Yesterday I came across a paper that was published in a well-respected journal discussing how a group of computer scientists had discovered that participatory methods are much better way of organizing a conference that traditional methods of presentations, panels, and concurrent sessions (which are often just smaller presentations). They took the time to document their work and share it with their community of scientists, which is excellent. The conference itself seems to have included a great deal of dialogue and conversation around topics that were chose in advance by the participants and scheduled by the organizers. But, I won’t share the paper because it has significant issues with the name it uses for the method involved.
The paper refers to “World Cafe” and then proceeds to describe a process where over the course of the conference, two 45 minute sessions were held during which participants talked about topics that had been submitted weeks in advance and selected by organizers who then also appointed people to lead these discussions There were also panel discussions and social events.
On its own this is a fine conference design. Not especially ground breaking in the world of conferences, but novel to the organizers, and the feedback was positive from the participants which is what really matters. The issue I have is what appears to be the misattribution of the term “World Cafe” to the dialogue method that the organizers used. In defining the term, the paper references a website (now a dead link, but archived here) which does indeed provide a reference to the World Cafe method, but I don’t think they used the method per se in the conference itself.
Here’s why this matters.
I do believe that methods like World Cafe and Open Space Technology are powerful and extremely useful ways of organizing and working wth large groups of people in dialogue. It is the core of my work – convening large groups for strategic learning and engagement. There are many ways of working with large groups, but these methods are well established and they share a common feature: leadership or facilitation of these methods is a very particular act, one that has a very different relationship to control and power than working with small groups. Being able to “hold space” in these processes involves using enabling constraints to create the conditions for emergence. Technically speaking: enabling constraints are boundaries that contain an activity such that certain kinds of things can happen within the dialogic container. That is, in the context of a World Cafe for example, organizers and process hosts make decisions about what the conversation is to be about and design questions that enable every person in the process to participate. We also provide the conditions so that conversations can be self-hosted by small groups by making it as easy as possible for people to engage. What happens in these contexts is therefore emergent.
Sometimes I use a metaphor like this: classical facilitation is like sailing a boat – you respond to the wind and the waves to help guide the vessel on its journey towards its destination. Large group facilitation is more like pushing a boat out onto a lake in such a way that it also ends up travelling towards its destination. Once you’ve pushed the boat out, you have no more contact with it, practically speaking. Whatever will happen will happen (or as Harrison Owen wrote, “Whatever happens is the only thing that could have.”) Therefore, the art of facilitating large group methods is very much in how the container and the participants are prepared, how the first few moments of hosting are framed, how the room and space is set up to enable the work, and then it is very much about NOT doing anything after you have let people get down to it. This is extremely difficult, but the results can be extraordinary in terms of ideas, engagement, and the overall revelation of capacity of the group itself. This is the heart of participatory work. The Art of Hosting, if you will.
The methods that have arisen around this common garden of practice and experience are well documented. When a person uses a term like “World Cafe” or “Open Space Technology” I would expect them to reference the primary material that exists in published form and use that method with some fidelity. I don’t mind if people change or create new methods from the world that has gone before, and in fact, as long as one has a good understanding of the basic principles and practice of participatory work, this kind of thing is to be encouraged, so that the needs of the group can be best met. But I have significant issues with what happens when this is done poorly.
Many people over the years have asked me to run an Open Space meeting and what they then describe is something that is far from Open Space. Commonly they describe a process whereby some or all of these kinds of features are present: people submit topics in advance, or organizers choose from a list of topics, or there is some voting on which topics will be discussed on the day, or perhaps organizers look at the agenda and then cluster conversations. All of these “modified Open Space events” are not just modified Open Space events. They actually are different kinds of events. They reveal an unstated limiting belief held by the organizers. They take the form of Open Space and introduce some level of facilitator control that is deliberately NOT a part of Open Space Technology facilitation. Why this happens, I think, largely depends on organizers’ feeling that they cannot fulfill Harrison Owen’s oft stated but rarely recorded admonition to “trust the people, not the process.” Open Space Technology in particular is a method that enables facilitators and leaders to fully trust the participants. Ironically, if you follow the method very closely (trusting the process), it initiates radical trust in the people. If you find yourself afraid of some outcome or another happening that you won’t have control over, then you are more likely to take Harrison’s original method and introduce a point of control there. That MIGHT be fine, but I always coach people to do this very mindfully and consciously and not to call what they have done “Open Space”
In its worst case, I have seen so much of the unexamined limiting belief creep into a process that the process is no longer “Open Space” or “World Cafe” but something else entirely. And once again, that is fine, but if you insist on still using the term “Open Space” or “World Cafe” to describe what you are doing (or even using the world “modified” before those terms) then you are doing the field a great disservice, and you are risking having knowledgeable participants view your motives with suspicion. These methods are not new, even though most people in the world don’t know the jargon or technical language associated with our field (and they don’t need to at all to be able to participate.) But if someone thinks they are coming to an Open Space Technology gathering and they are then met with a process whereby they have to pitch their idea to a large group of people who may vote to reject it from the agenda, they are going to be confused at best, and probably angry at worst.
So I want to leave this with a couple of encouraging ideas. First, use the methods. They are amazing. They have been honed in grounded practice, they are grounded in good theory and they work. They are widely and freely shared by the founders or designers and they are useful because they don’t need any modification beyond choosing the theme or questions for your own context. When you use them with fidelity to the original work, let people know that is what you are doing and share your sources.
Second, make up new methods. Go for it! There is nothing to stop you from really thinking through what a groups needs and creating a new method that will help people meet the urgent necessity of the moment. Use a good design tool like the chaordic stepping stones to help you think through your design. If you alight on something really good that no one else has ever done, make it replicable and share it in the myriad of communities of practice, like the Art of Hosting community, that are interested in such things.
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PS. If you are going to publish a paper on your work and your findings, using participatory methods for large scale self-organized dialogue, here is a good example, with proper references and a discussion of the methods and how the final design relates to those methods. Please do publish! I have contacted the lead author of the paper I referenced at the beginning of this post to help make peer-reviewed changes to the paper to have it better reflect the knowledge in the field of participatory dialogue methods, so that it can be more widely shared without skewing academic references to World Cafe. If we get to make those changes, I’ll happily share their work.
Don’t build beautiful things that need to capture life before they are functional. Start with life.
Here are four key insights from a conversation on designing good invitations for Open Space meetings. This is the real work of hosting self-organization. It’s not JUST about facilitation.
I parked my car this morning in the village and walked down to my favourite coffee place for an espresso. Every one of the three conversations I overheard was about people discussing the pros and cons of ChatGPT. Pros seem to be that “it helped me to know what to ask for when I talked to my car insurance company” and cons are mostly “how do we know that any of this is real?” More seriously I’m sitting near folks who work in the arts and the looks on their faces are of the deepest concern. They use it. For ideas, for a writing prompt, but the times they have used it to write dialogue, they can spot how crappy it is. At the moment.
My earliest post about was Google was from 2002 when it was an insanely useful tool for searching the web. “Google cooking” was a simple game where one entered in a list of ingredients and it returned a list recipes. It was novel at the time. Great for weeknight dinners. Another game was called “Googlewhack” whereby one would try to construct a two word search term that resulted in only one result. You can’t play that one anymore.
The complete enshittification of search engines, combined with web content that has been generated by robots in order to sell stuff is increasing turning web-search an absolutely useless activity. I just use my search engine (DuckDuckGo) as a collection of bookmarks now. It is hard to do any meaningful research anymore, and so we turn to ChatGPT for answers. And ChatGPT is out there learning the questions we ask. Something sits weird with me when I think about how while Google learned the answers we like, and AI is learning the questions we ask.
The questions are important, as is the way we ask them and to whom we ask them. Sonja today writes about the questions that help us discern a direction, which is different from finding a way. Sometimes we don’t even know what the direction is although we can discern that wherever we are right now, somewhere else is better. Thinking about that and talking about it together is an essential human capacity and it’s a pretty fundamental part of how we work with teams facing complexity. There is an art to asking to right kinds of questions and thinking about them together that reveals a deeper level at which affordances and opportunities might exist. Sometimes getting unstuck means drilling down and not reaching out.
Collaborative outcomes are emergent properties of discrete human systems of encounter and meaning-making – “dialogic containers” I call them. If you are a leader seeking a course of action, you might get some good ideas by submitting notes and documents and harvests into a large language model to suggest possibilities. In fact, you could even have your team members do that on their own and bring the output to a meeting to talk about what they have found. My hypothesis is if you continue to do that without involving humans you will end up with an endless set of ideas and possibilities, but you will miss the co-creationi and co-ownership that makes sustained effort possible in a particular direction. I can’t yet see how large language models can surface a consensus that will inspire collaborative action. Deep meaning and commitment to one another is produced by the people within the container who discover something between them that is worth trying, worth pursuing together. Calls to action are far less sustainable than co-creation of a direction. Even if, and perhaps especially if, such a direction is deeply flawed to begin with. There is nothing better than failing together and then finding a way forward to build cohesion.
I might be wrong in the future but in this moment, systems-complexity and anthro-complexity are different and humans experience emergence differently from mechanical systems, even those that are capable of learning. Dialogue practitioners base their practice on this idea; that no matter how great the ideas are, nothing gets sustained in human systems without the intangibles of co-ownership, meaningful engagement, and dare I say, at some level, love.
Detail from a quilt designed and made by the St. Andrews Anglican Church Women Quilter’s Guild. The quilt was made in 1967 in honour of Canada’s centennial year. Keen eyed observers will notice patterns in here that relate to that celebration. The quilt was on display at the Bowen Island Public Library earlier this year, on loan from Joyce Ganong whose mother, Isabel Faulks, was one of the quilters.
Another reflection from the Complexity Inside and Out course we taught yesterday…
Caitlin led us in a check in process that was about slowing down out seeing. Here’s a variation. Try it!
- Pick a view where there is some distance – looking out a window is best. If this is a familiar view, all the better.
- Notice the scene out there. Notice the colours, the landscape, the patterns. Notice movement and stillness. If the scene is familiar, look at what you know.
- You can close your eyes and remember what you see. How does that scene conjure itself up in your mind’s eye?
- Now open your eyes and look again at the scene. Try to notice something you’ve never noticed before or something that you’ve forgotten, or a change to the scene that you hadn’t noticed until now.
- Describe the scene now. Write down obersvations about what you see. What is the overall colour palette? What are the lines you see, of trees or buildings, horizon and sky. If you saw this scene in a flash, how would you recognize it?
You can add different variations to this exercise, but the point is to notice how we see things as patterns. Our mind conjures up a scene of large blocks in it and details aren’t always apparent. Sometimes we have to see things with new eyes, or a naive perspective.
I reflected yesterday that I was once walking through the forest here on my home island, following a path to the village with my brother who was visiting from Toronto. Bowen Island is very different from Toronto. He stopped us next to a very large Douglas-fir tree and said “Look at that! It’s huge!”
All the trees around here are huge, especially if you aren’t familiar with the forest. But I looked again at this tree – one I passed hundreds of times to and from the village – and noticed that it was actually an old growth tree. How could I tell? The pattern of bark is different, the branches are thicker and more gnarly and look like the trunks of younger trees. My brother’s eyes found anomalies in the pattern I had formed of my home forest, and I used my own pattern recognition skills to identify why the tree he spotted was an anomaly.
This, it turns out is an excellent thing to do when you are looking for other patterns in familiar contexts, like your business market or your team culture or the school system you work in or the services you offer to community. Be careful not to assume that the patterns you can see is the sum total of the reality available to you.
This isn’t new. But you can never over-practice awareness.
There is a neat game called Geoguesser that is based on the Google Street View database. You download the app and get started and it throws up an image from somewhere in the world and you have two minutes to guess where it is. The closer you get to the actual spot, the more points you get.
You’re not supposed to cheat by using Google maps to look up land marks. It entirely depends on the pattern recognition that you bring to the game. What language is that on the side of a truck? What does that street sign say? What kind of palm trees are these? Is that dirt road red or dark brown? Is that a white ring around the power pole?
Really good players of this game have thousands of details stored meaning that they can discern the location using macro clues first, and then narrow things down with decision trees, like how the shadows are cast, entire websites have sprung up devoted to these pattern markers that help people quickly identify the location. There are competitions culminating in the GeoGuesser World Championship. You can watch these competitions live. They are amazing.
And the kind if undisputed champion of this game is rainbolt, a man full of so many patterns, that his guesses are almost always pinpoint accurate.
Watch him host five great players finding obscure locations. They are engaged in constant pattern finding. It’s kind of amazing and it’s very cool to have them articulate the way they are seeing these landscapes. Specific knowledge helps them make generalizations and they connect what they know and use abductive reasoning to guess the location.
Back when I first experienced Open Space Technology, at a conference in 1995, the thing that immediately caught my attention about the process was how it was a perfect, simple set of constraints to enable self-organization. It sent me down a rabbit hole of learning about self-organization and complexity and I became captivated with the patterns I saw around me, and specifically with dissipative structures.
Ilya Prigogine coined the term dissipative structure. In layperson’s terms it refers to a structure that persists in time despite its components constantly changing. The classic example is a whirlpool. When you pull the plug on a bathtub full of water, the water forms a whirlpool as it head down the drain. The whirlpool is an emergent structure and a pattern that persists over time, held in place by constraints such as gravity, the size of the drain hole, and way bigger forces like air pressure and where you are on the planet.
If you just look at molecules of water, you would have no idea that they could form a whirlpool. The water molecules that drain out of your bathtub all participate temporarily in forming the whirlpool but none of them initiate it. When they leave, they have no memory that they were in it. You cannot take a random water molecule and discover whether it has ever gone down a drain. And yet, the pattern persists and is real. What gets dissipated is the energy and matter that travels through the structure.
In human systems, we see related kinds of structures everywhere too. Learning about these kinds of patterns, which I did initially through Fritjof Capra’s book The Web of Life, made me seek out analogues around me. The pattern of “dissipating structure” was interesting, and because I had focussed extensively on culture in my undergraduate studies, I finally had a useful way of looking at cultures and how they seemed to exhibit both stability and constant change. People, energy and material flow through the culture but they are entrained to behave in a larger scale structure that has some persistence, but which is also sensitive to changing. This was how I ended up coming to complexity theory, through my exploration of these ideas.
Cultures are not dissipative structures in the technical sense that Prigogine describes, and there seems to have been quite a bit of controversy over the years about whether social structures qualify as thermodynamic structures. Because I’m not a physicist I will say they are not, but this idea makes a good metaphor and helps me to explain how we work with emergent structures and persistent patterns in organizational and community life.
Seeing this pattern led me into the margins of participatory leadership work, facilitation, and ultimately dialogical organizational development. These ways of working were all concerned with creating the kinds of containers that enable emergent meaning. Sometimes these containers are temporary, like meetings, and sometimes they are persistent, like organizations, teams and communities. If you’ve ever tried to change an organizations culture you’ll recognize that it is very much like sticking your hand in a whirlpool. You’ll get some temporary disruption, but unless you change the enabling constraints, the whirlpool will reestablish itself the moment you stop interfering.