Chat with Larry & Brenda
Click on the RED highlighted entry and join the online discussion with us and others
by adding your 2-cents, great ideas, and professional insight to the hot topic at hand
Chat with Larry & Brenda
Click on the RED highlighted entry and join the online discussion with us and others
by adding your 2-cents, great ideas, and professional insight to the hot topic at hand
Did you ever feel really good about an accomplishment – say, a great
game of golf or bowling – only to not be able to repeat it?
I
will never forget my 12 year old birthday bowling party. My average
score at the time was about 140 (out of 300 for those of you who are not
bowlers). We bowled two games at the party. My first score was 135 –
about what you would expect. My second game – my second game – was a
212! The best score I ever had by 40 pins!
As you might imagine, I
wanted to bowl a third game and since it was my birthday party, we did.
Any guesses about the score? 138. Much as I was hoping for divine
intervention and the magic answer to bowling, my approach, swing, and
release had not fundamentally changed. The pattern hadn't changed during
my big game. I had just been lucky.
Sound familiar?
Are you a lemming? Would you obediently follow the rest of your
colleagues over the cliff to your demise? Of course not. Except ...
Somehow
in our workplaces we fall prey to a form of hero worship – the big
successful corporation. With vastly different resources, infrastructure
and culture, these front-running organizations are able to invest in new
ideas to an extent that "mere mortal" companies cannot. Folk wisdom
states that General Electric spent $1 billion dollars in its initial
rollout of Six Sigma.
My company – heck my state – doesn't have
$1 billion to invest in process improvement (or anything else, for that
matter). What on the planet makes us think that we can adopt what these
organizations do, exactly the way they do it, and expect the results
that their well-oiled PR machines tout in the popular and business
press? Certainly there are underlying principles we should adapt;
customize to our own individual circumstances – and that is the
difference that makes a difference.
Have you ever been told something like, "I don't much care what you
think. Shut up and do it this way. I know this will work."?
After
I get over being extremely pissed off, I try to go to my "zen,"
centered place where I understand that the person who uttered those
irritating words is operating from a story they hold that makes sense to
them. Convinced they are right, their ability to be open; to listen; to
adapt ceases to exist. After all, more conversation isn't needed –
let's just get on with it.
I also tell myself that they are most
likely operating from a linear, cause-and-effect paradigm. It worked for
me in the past – therefore it will work in the future for you. What's
the problem? Well there is a problem. The world doesn't always work that
way! Different conditions require different approaches; require new
ways of thinking; invite new options and choices.
Listen to
yourself for a week. How often do you suffer from what Joel Barker,
futurist and author, calls the "terminal disease of certainty?"
It seems that we humans are hard-wired to judge. Think about how
pervasive our language is regarding "winners and losers," the "haves and
have-nots," "right or wrong."
Another way of framing these
distinctions is "same as me (or us)" and "different than me (or us)." In
a blinding flash of the obvious, the "winners," "haves," and "right"
people are those that see the world the same we way do.
The
question for the day is, "What does that judging do for us?" How does it
serve us?" Those pronouncements clearly have value – why else would we
do them so often? One could argue that they help with a Darwinian
"survival of the fittest" – may the best ideas win. Another perspective
is that they help form communities – people who are like us are easier
to talk and relate to. A third benefit is that it justifies
(rationalizes?) the reasons we do not choose to associate with someone
else. It's much easier to claim it is about them than about us.
There
are some downsides to judging. We lose out on the ability to learn from
others different than ourselves. We lose the quality of thinking and
discerning that comes from rationale, deep conversations that cause us
to question our own beliefs, values, and assumptions. We lose out on
"the other half" of the world out there.
So the next time you
find yourself uttering a holier-than-thou pronouncement of right and
wrong; of "naughty or nice" – pause for a minute. What have you gained?
What have you lost?
Did you ever notice how many good ideas are never successfully implemented? I find it incredibly aggravating when that happens, and for a number of reasons:
While there are certainly many reasons for this, one contributing factor seems to be assuming that an improvement will somehow magically implement itself. It's like buying a top of the line hammer at a hardware store and somehow believing it will magically do a better job of driving nails. Without good eye-hand coordination, it simply doesn't matter how good the hammer is!
This thought process holds true whether it be for an individual tool, a drawer of tools, or an entire toolbox. Well intentioned people believe that if they identify better individual tools – "Look at this new version of a histogram," new classes of tools – "Theory of constraints can solve all of our problems," or new toolboxes – "All we need is team-based culture" – that the rest will take care of itself.
Duh.
