It’s a grey muggy day here on the south coast of BC, and the photo above is from this morning’s ferry ride into Vancouver to begin a trip to Haida Gwaii this week.
Chris Mowles has a good post on the politics of uncertainty and writes about how that is unfolding in health care systems he is working with. I resonate with these words:
My colleagues’ dilemmas also made me think about the anxiety associated with uncertainty and how it is unevenly distributed. In times of crisis and hardship there is often a myth that ‘we are all in this together’, whereas in reality some are more in it than others. In his book The Politics of Uncertainty Peter Marris (1996) explains how group life, particularly in highly individualised and competitive societies, also comprises competition over who gets to sit with the most uncertainty. Your position in the hierarchy will determine how much you can pass on uncertainty to others. And Marris argues that the most marginalised are likely to bear the brunt.
This isn’t just true of inter organizational politics but of social politics as well. If you want to assert power, offload as much uncertainty as possible(and it’s accompanying anxiety) to others. That way you live with at least an illusion of comfort, shielded from the mental health challenges of being on constant stand-by for crisis or emergence.
It’s one of the reasons why I think it’s important to build capacity for working with complexity throughout organizations and societies, and especially deep in the lower middle management parts of these societies, where anxiety and uncertainty (and accountability) has been shifted. Of course, senior executives and government ministers have massive uncertainty to deal with, but typically they are resourced well to do it. Making complexity tools available to everyone helps everyone, becasue everyone is needed to deal with complexity.
If you want to to talk more about this and how we can provide accessible, lower cost training and capacity building to these levels of organizations and community, let me know. I’m constantly developing my practices and tools for doing this. We are doing this through story work and Participatory Narrative Inquiry, through sharing frameworks like Cynefin and the Two Loops, through our own bundle of complexity tools for facilitation and process design, and through facilitation and leadership practices that increase the relationships and participation that is needed to share the burden of living with uncertainty wherever you are at.
The rain and fog has rolled into Howe Sound. Autumn on Bowen Island is really divided into two halves. The first begins August 1 when the harvest gets going, the crickets start chirping and the slightest chill comes into the air. The days begin to grow shorter, but there is still lots of warm heart and summer calm. The second half begins around the end of September, when the rains arrive and the southeasterly flows of the low pressure systems in the Pacific bring cloud and rain and powerful fall storms. This weekend the rain has started in earnest, and I awoke to a grey and foggy morning, which set a perfect mood for a few hours of watching sport.
I do love watching rugby. I don’t follow it closely, but I’ll usually make time in the winter to watch the men’s Six Nations matches. The women’s World Cup concluded today with a dominating England performance over Canada, a 33-13 result in front of more than 81,000 at Twickenham. Until this morning, I didn’t watch the tournament at all, to my slight regret; one can’t follow every sport, and I was away a lot this month. Canada is a top international team despite a patchy infrastructure for the game, and the final clearly wasn’t representative of Canada’s play through the tournament. National pride aside, rugby is the only sport that can regularly get me out of my seat as a neutral. There is nothing more tense that a persistent drive towards the try line with a team going through phase after phase of play, with a rhythmic cadence of relentless attack and a defence putting everything into stopping them. It’s thrilling stuff.
Closer to home, AFC Toronto has won the inaugural Northern Super League title. Calgary beat Montreal 0-2 in a bit of a shocker in Laval, and that win secured the title for Toronto. Coming into today, the final playoff spot was still up for grabs, with Vancouver needing only a draw to secure it after Calgary won. They got it with a Holly Ward equalizer 78 minutes into the match against Halifax. Toronto. has run away with the league title on the strength of several players who were developed in British Columbia by the Whitecaps academy programs, including three players who played with our TSS Rovers inaugural women’s team in 2018: Emma Regan, Ashley Cathro and Kaelen Hansen. It is an ongoing puzzle as to why the Vancouver Rise weren’t willing or able to lock up those players.
Meanwhile in North London I set my eyes on the Tottenham match with some dread. Wolves have been terrible, but had a decent cup result against Leeds this week. That team has always done well at Tottenham, and I recall a game in 2012 which I attended with my dad, in which Luka Modric saved a point with a beautiful goal from outside the box. I think that one dismantled our chances for the title and we weren’t the same despite being top at Christmas. Wolves’ shirts are the colour of banana skins. Today was typical in the pattern. Spurs dominated the chances in the first half but scoring nothing from it, and Sam Johnston in goal can take a bunch of credit for that. A ragged Wolves goal at 54′ led to substitutions of Bentancur and Spence for Johnson and Porro a few minutes later. Paling, who has had a terrific week, left it to nearly the last kick of the game to score a beautifully sculpted equalizer to salvage a point from the match. 1-1 draw.
A smoky morning here as we have smoke from the huge Bear Gulch fire in Washington swirling around the Salish Sea on a southeasterly flow. Skies are clear above the smoke but this morning’s sun was a marischino cherry rising over the mountains.
My friend Kari Boyle is a lawyer and mediator and posts at SLaw, the Canadian Online Law Magazine. This week she has a post on AI and conflict management riffing a bit on a post I shared last month.
It is inconceivable to me at this point that life wasn’t present on Mars at some point. It just feels like everything we are learning about that planet points towards that conclusion. It feels inevitable. Last week some exciting news was published in Nature and then explained by people like David Grinspoon and Neil Tyson DeGrasse. The questions they dive into later in the interview are stunning in their implications. (Bonus points for his whiteboard editorializing).
Two delightful articles about philosophy. Peter Levine on the politics (and philosophy) of nostalgia. And Doug Muir at Crooked Timber has a lovely reflection on ethics.
A decent (but not ultimate) guide to opening activities for group work.
I found myself in Snug Cove today, the village centre of our island, and it was like night and day from this past weekend. As everyone who lives in a place that is overrun by visitors knows, the day after Labour Day is like the dawn of a new era. I knew almost everyone in the Village Square, and had enough time to have actual conversations with friends. I saw people I haven’t seen since the wet months, who finally ventured into the Cove for supplies. It has been a busy summer with people visiting the Island from near and far. Lots of folks coming from Vancouver and environs and even further afield in Canada, because people are avoiding travel to the USA these days.
Bowen Island is not an easy place to learn how to get around. We have an arcane ferry marshalling system that runs on a secret code of etiquette that not even islanders agree upon. Many maps and navigations apps don’t work on Bowen, and many people don’t know how to read paper maps, so it’s common to find folks far from where they want to go. E-biking is all the rage but we don’t have great bike infrastructure, and so the roads can get clogged. Restaurants are good, but they are slower than what you expect on the mainland, and folks that are already frustrated with their inability to have Bowen makes sense to them sometimes take it out on our servers and shop keepers. There is an energy of confusion, self-interest (“Influencers.” Please.) and speed in the summer that causes many of us to stay away from the village unless absolutely necessary.
But then Labour Day passes. Suddenly school has started, people have returned home, the only visitors are seniors who are slow enough to begin with that they have no trouble fitting into the island’s pace. And it feels like ours again.
On Sunday I led an impromptu group of Islanders in an annual ritual to sing off our visitors for another year. It was offered in good fun and received that way I think.
Today was a sweet relief.
My friend Amy Mervak, a great facilitator in Kalamazoo, Michigan, shares a bit about using Critical Uncertainties, a Liberating Structures method, that helps a group quickly design and discuss future scenarios.
Chris Mowles takes aim at the ratings culture that is creating yet one more way for folks to experience precarity in the world. 5/5 for the post!
I’ve just unsubscribed from a blog – well, a substack – which had some promise but let me down in two ways. It had promise becasue it was devoted to facilitation. Where it let me down is that I suspect the posts were mostly ChatGPT generated. The posts were shallow, used emojis liberally, and, the kicker, only allowed paid members to comment. Sorry, but no. The last post I read there, from today was entitled “When Your Virtual Co-Host Gets Smarter Than You” and I suspect that the AI wrote it unironically. I wouldn’t normally make a big deal about unsubscribing from a blog, but when you prompt a comment with “What helps you stay human, while tech manages the rest?” on an AI-generated post and then only allow paid subscribers to discuss, then you’re not really “facilitating” are you? We need to do better.
Today I learned about “kelping.” That’s when orcas or humpbacks tangle themselves up in kelp beds because it feels nice.
Orcas are more than just a charismatic mega fauna on our coast line. They are a population, and for First Nations, they are kin. For the people that live close to them, including researchers, the whales are chosen family. This week, I76 died. Here is the account of his death from OrcaLab. It contains these beautiful words:
At this moment the day shifted. Jared Towers had come out specifically in response to the previous day’s concerns about I76, the oldest son of I4. He was extremely thin and having difficulties. Jared found him on the Vancouver Island side of the Strait opposite to the entrance to Blackney Pass. The rest of his small family were further away. The day was grey, the ocean only slightly agitated. As several dolphins surrounded and overwhelmed I76, his mother came flying across to him. Jared said he had never seen a Northern Resident move so fast and that she was clearly upset. From that time on his family remained close to his side with the dolphins surrounding the entire family who were more or less stationary. This continued until just before 3pm when I76 took his last breath and sank out of sight into the depths. His family lingered near his last position, then began to call..
Ernest Alfred happened to be here and he and a few of us went out into Johnstone Strait. There next to the mountains of Vancouver Island, near to a few dolphins who still seemingly hovered over where I76’s had his last moments and not far from his family now slowly weaving their way east, Ernest sang in Kwakwala reminding us to shed our tears before nightfall, morning would bring another ceremony fitting with the time of day and a chance to say good-bye.
Read the subsequent posts to see how the humans and whales who knew I76 mourned his passing.