I was in a call with a colleague yesterday and we were discussing Founder’s Syndrome. Over the years, it’s one of the more persistent patterns I have seen in non-profits and social enterprises. There are a lot of similar aspects to this pattern, and it generally unfolds like this:
A person or small group of people start something. Usually, they come from the front line and have experience working directly with people, delivering services, restoring landscapes, organizing campaigns, etc. With a little bit of success, these folks start thinking about growing their operations and stabilizing them over time. This means bringing in staff, board members, and funders who believe in them and want to support the vision. Some staff may be the same kind of front-line folks that the founder was. Still, many will be experts in another aspect of growing and operating an organization: managers, board members, marketers, finance people and so on. While these folks are all crucial to running an organization well, they don’t always share the founder’s experience with grassroots or front-line work.
Often, as the organization grows, the founder realizes that their role can no longer be directly involved in the front-line operations of the organization. They retreat to a more visionary role, and, as the holder of the core story and vision of the organization, they become an ambassador for the work, obtaining funding and support and good board members who can oversee the organization. This sounds good, but it can often generate many issues, especially as the founder begins to sense the end of their involvement with their organization.
At this stage a number of inevitable patterns begin to emerge. They don’t always work like this, but these are common enough that I see them over and over in organizations that have been around for a couple of decades, sometimes less.
The founder begins to feel irrelevant and starts getting nosy. If your whole life has been spent creating programs for vulnerable youth, you might not find yourself relishing leading an organization set up to do this. Founders often have a hard time removing themselves from the day-to-day operations because their heart lies with the activism and the work of change-making, not organizational sustaining. Sometimes founders will involve themselves too much in the front-line work, micro-managing and being unaware of their power and influence. This can lead to trust issues, where newer hires don’t feel like they can learn and grow in their jobs. The antidote to this is to establish good governance structures and good roles and for the founder to transition into a new role through learning and cultivating leadership.
Hardly anyone thinks of succession until it’s too late. This controlling dynamic affects the ability of a founder to plan well for succession. Very few founders give much thought to their own disappearance from their life’s work, especially when building and growing an organization which relies so heavily on them. If an organization successfully survives over the long term, there will always come a time when the founder will step back. I have talked with founders who occupy all points of the spectrum that range from “I can’t leave because the organization will collapse without me” to “if the organization dies when I’m gone, I’m okay with that.” Once you’ve created a structure and moved into a leadership role, it is time to think ahead about how you will get out of it. Even if that is 20 years ahead, it shapes your approach to mentorship and shared leadership. Building shared leadership early will help folks move into roles and create mutual support relationships that allow people in the organization to grow into these roles, increasing organizational resiliency over time.
Resisting change. Organizations that grow their stability also become less able to change. Board members appointed to support the founder’s vision often govern to a rigid version of what that looks like, and Boards like this are always more risk-averse than a swashbuckling social entrepreneur. Funders can enforce a kind of rigidity of approach too as funding grants can bend an organization’s operations to the funder’s theory of change rather than create the ongoing ability of social enterprises to grow and adapt. Stability is a polarity, and from the beginning, organizations need to develop resiliency rather than robustness. They must survive by being changed rather than stand as a bulwark against change. This is hard when you deliver services because clients require a continuity of care, and there are no easy answers to these questions. Managing this polarity is crucial for overcoming a founder’s syndrome, where the governance and funding are tied to an original vision and are not allowed to grow beyond the founder.
Splits between board and staff. In the early days of an organization, everyone is moving in the same direction, doing the same things and pitching in wherever they need to. However, as organizations become larger and more stable, roles become highly differentiated. Board members are often chosen more because of their connections to funding and power than to the front-line work. Staff are learning and adapting at the coal face of the work. The two groups often develop a distance between them, making it hard for them to be mutually supportive. When organizations ask me to help them with strategic planning, I always ask them to do it jointly with the board and staff and even clients and other stakeholders. Organizations that set their mandates and future plans through closed board sessions tend to suffer from a deep lack of situational awareness about the organization’s context. This can exacerbate founder’s syndrome even after the founder has left, as they will often invoke the founder’s intentions in their role as stewards and guardians of that vision. Ignoring the needs, concerns, creativity and awareness of staff and partners is a good way to dig a hole of irrelevancy for an organization.
This is just a bit of the ground I covered with my colleague yesterday. What patterns and responses do you notice?
Part 1: Introduction to the model
Part 2: A deeper dive into the model
The two loops model emerged from many years of conversations amongst people working in the Berkana Exchange and their friends and mates in the late 1990s and early 2000s. As my friend Tim Merry pointed out on a comment at LinkedIn, the model itself was an emergent framework of how organizing happens on what we called back then “trans local” communities of practice. The Berkana Exchange was made up of many learning hubs around the world in places like Zimbabwe, South Africa, Senegal, India, Brazil, Mexico and Canada. These learning centres supported all kinds of experiments in living and the Art of Hosting took root and was co-created and developed in many of these places too, notably at Kufunda Village in Zimbabwe and The Shire in Nova Scotia, Canada.
Part of the origin of the two loops model was from the network making sense of itself and trying to understand what was required to create and sustain these kinds of experiments in an increasingly connected way. In the early 2000s there was so much talk about the way in which networks enabled by the open web were bringing people together and making interesting new forms of activism and organizing possible. Berkana was at the forefront of this lived inquiry and at some point prior to 2010, Deborah Frieze and Meg Wheatley published a pamphlet called Using Emergence to Take Social Innovation to Scale, summarizing the Berkana approach to developing leadership in communities, which sought to build on the promise of networks by discussing the role of emergence and how to support communities of practice so that they can grow into systems of influence. Although this diagram above is not in the published document, the “Name-Connect-Nourish-Illuminate” pathway was named.
My earliest photo of a skecth of the model in my handwriting from 2009
I’m trying to remember when I first encountered this model. This is probably the earliest version of it I have in my photos, dated March 9, 2009. At that time, I was working a lot with Tenneson Woolf, Teresa Posakony, Tim Merry, Tuesday Rivera (Ryan-Hart) (who now offer an online course on their version of the model) and Phil Cass, all of whom were deeply involved with the Berkana Institute and the Exchange. So this was in our conversations then. We started sharing the model in Art of Hosting workshops and in some client work. I think the first time I was involved in teaching it “on the floor” was at an Art of Hosting in Springfield, Illinois, in March 2009.
That particular way of working with the two loops has become my preferred way of teaching when we are in person. In 2009, Teresa, Tenneson and I were in a convent in Springfield when we had the idea of making a map on the floor and asking people to position themselves on it according to where they were in the systems in which they were working (which in this case was the Illinois education system). We asked people to quietly walk around the map until they “felt” the right place to be. Once there, we asked them to talk about what it was like in that spot with others and then offer insights to the whole. I remember the poignant moment a teacher who stood on the legacy side of Transition broke down into tears, saying that she could see the education system dying around her, and all she was trying to do was throw children across the gap and into the new system. She had no idea if anyone was there to catch them. And in that moment, a tall man who worked for a Foundation pointed to a woman who was on the other end of the Transition bridge and said, “We’ve got you. We fund those programs. Keep throwing those children our way.” It was a powerful lesson about what happens when folks can see others in the wider world to whom they are connected.
Around that time, work carried me into a few other places where this model just made sense. Tenneson and I started working with Canadian Labour unions back then, especially the Canadian Union of Public Employees and in October 2010, we used this model on the floor of the Canadian Labour Congress Training Centre in Port Elgin, Ontario, to talk about how the labour movement was changing. That was the first time I saw people position themselves entirely outside the map. In this case, the two that stood outside were Executives of the CLC, both vice presidents of their provincial labour federations. They both agreed that their job was to care for the whole system, see everybody in it, and try to meet everybody’s needs.
Perhaps the most influential moment in my own development of the model came when I was working with churches in 2012. I had been working with the United Church of Canada at that time working with congregations and presbyteries to look at the changes that were accelerating across the church at that time. As a mainline Protestant denomination, the United Church, like all the others, is going through a massive generational shift in the structure and future of the denomination. After its founding in 1925, the Church grew rapidly and became an influential progressive social and spiritual force in Canada. Membership in the church peaked in the 1960s and since then has been declining. In the last 15 years, many congregations have closed their doors, and very few churches are growing or evolving within the denomination anymore. The two loops model captured this moment incredibly well and asks the question of what is already amongst us that gives us a clue about how progressive Christianity will take form in its next iteration.
Using this framework and infusing it with the theology of progressive Christianity made for a deeply meaningful experience in the dozens of congregations I worked with during those years. It gave everyone a place in the system and opened up conversations about tradition, innovation, and what is required for the church to change. Some churches were just not up to the task, falling to strong traditional voices that squashed the new sprouts of innovation because they couldn’t reconcile them with the church they knew and loved. And I’ve seen some congregations embrace the emerging alongside the traditional and do well meeting the spiritual needs of their congregation members.
One lovely story I remember from this time that I want to record here happened when my friend Tom Brackett – at the time a bishop in the Episcopal Church in the USA – invited me to create a retreat with him for folks we loving referred to as “heretics” within the Church. The retreat was called “Can these bones live?” and the organizing scripture was Ezekial 37:1-14, the vision known as The Valley of Dry Bones. In this vision, Ezekial is taken to a box canyon that is full of the skeletons of slain soldiers, and God asks him, “Mortal, can these bones live?” Ezekial sensibly replies “Oh God, you know.” And from that moment of paying attention to spirit and letting go of certainty, Ezekial and God wake up the bones and send the people home.
My notes from the day. I love the quote i jotted down that someone must have said “Heck: where the bad kids go.”
As we dove into this story and the framework, I invited people to walk contemplatively on the map and explore the Valley of Bones. It was indeed a deepening experience, and the rest of the retreat was full of stories, hopes, and real reckoning with what needs to die if the Episcopal Church is to live. Or even whether the Episcopal Church needed to die for progressive Christianity to live. Heretics indeed.
This particular gathering led to further engagements in the Episcopal Church in the USA and with ecumenical organizations like the Foundation for Theological Education (now known as the Foundation for Theological Exploration). That group sent a number of participants to a workshop that we did in Salt Lake City called “The Art of Convening in Faith-Based Communities,” and I worked closely with the FTE participants to think through this framework and its relationship to issues of justice, marginalization and equity. That single conversation would lead to many years long relationship and a pivotal event in the life of the two loops model in the United Church of Canada.
In 2013, as a part of a massive Comprehensive Review process, the United Church hosted a conversation about the future of theological education in Canada, with everything from academic seminaries to workshops on the spirituality of maple syrup on the table. I was invited to join a team hosting a huge gathering in Toronto to bring the whole system into the room for that conversation. To my delight, four of my friends from FTE were invited to attend as witnesses. The first two days were really hard, and there was a lot of conflict and rancour in the room. We had several conversations which served to surface the tensions and the conflicts. On the second evening, my friends from FTE took me aside and said that the group needed to take the gathering in a whole different direction. The host team from the General Council office didn’t know what else we should do, but my FTE friends and I sat in a hotel suite, watched by others and started to sketch out a plan to take the group through the two loops.
This would require changing the meeting room to accommodate a movement-based workshop for 175 people, so once we had settled on the design, we asked the hotel if they would change the room for the morning. They refused and wouldn’t let us change the room set up ourselves.
And so, at 11:00 at night, we snuck down to the conference room and persuaded a security guard to unlock the doors for us, saying we had a little prep to do for the morning. We locked ourselves in and took about an hour and a half to reset the room ourselves, taping a HUGE version of this model on one half of the floor and rearranging the tables and chairs to set up a World Cafe space.
We started the next day in a circle around the map, and I taught the model. Next, we had everyone place themselves on the map and go through the exercises of talking about what it was like where they were in the system. We followed that with a conversation about what gifts are offered from each place in the system, and the rest of the day was spent hearing about and discussing those together. It was a healthy, powerful conversation, and the moderator, Gary Paterson, absolutely fell in love with the model. Over the next two years, as he led the conversation on the Church’s future, he ran over 50 workshops using the model to talk to people across the country about the future of their Church. Here I am in 2014, teaching the model to the United Chruch’s EDGE Network as a part of the leadership development work at that time.
Of all the frameworks I have worked with over the years, this one has been as important as Cynefin. Both help us understand complexity, make sense of current conditions and both help people find affordances to action. I am immensely grateful for everyone I have ever worked with on this model, from my friends in Berkana to the Art of Hosting community to folks in the churches, transition movements, education systems, and elsewhere.
Part 1 is an introduction to this model.
In the first post on this model, I introduced the basic model. In this one, I want to explain the way I think about the lines and the spaces between them
The big moves
The “two loops” referred to in the model’s name refer to these two arcs that essentially represent the rise and fall of influence over time. In the original, as I encountered it, only the bottom arc had labels for four big movements of an emerging system. They were the original Name, Connect, Nourish and Illuminate, based on the movements named by Deborah Frieze and Meg Wheatley in a pamphlet called Using Emergence to Take Social Innovation to Scale, which described the Berkana Institute’s approach to social change. The system took on a different form in each of these locations on the map. Naming was what “pioneers” (later changed to “innovators”) did. Innovators are in the wild, tinkering with new forms of being and not necessarily doing it with others. Once they create a shared identity – a name, like “Regenerative Economics” or “New Heretics” or “Decolonizers” – it is easier to find each other, and they can begin to connect. Connecting happens in Networks, where individuals connect and share information, usually pursuing their own ends. But when folks find each other and decide to team up, what can begin to emerge is a shared purpose and Nourishing that centre that, in addition to doing individual work, creates a Community of Practice. Get some big wins, and it might be possible that your community of practice evolves into a System of Influence which can Illuminate possibilities and hold the power and resources to help people transition from the old to the new.
It is always tempting to stigmatize the legacy system as run by a bunch of stuck-in-the-mud-old-timers who resist change. But truthfully, those who manage and lead the legacy system can often feel the same about the self-styled social innovators who want to “tear down everything around them” but haven’t yet understood what they are doing or what it takes to maintain something and even institutionalize it. So much intergenerational rancour comes from this dynamic. Naming the phases of the legacy system was an attempt to give it some recognition and respect. After all, the emerging system, if all goes well, will turn into exactly this kind of system, and in due course, will be replaced again. So it’s useful to know what it takes to keep a system in place to provide stability over time.
As systems begin to thrive and become predominant systems of influence, they attract leaders whose job is to steward and protect these systems and ensure continuity and stability. Banking systems, energy systems, and social systems that require a continuity of care of people all need good stewards who actually do their job by resisting massive changes. But there comes a time when all systems have outlived their usefulness and will begin to crumble. In this time, there is a decision point when it becomes clear that death is inevitable, and in that time, the best thing to do is welcome death by hospicing the system and helping it to die well. That means ensuring that folks can easily transition to the new system and that things that won’t make it over the bridge can compost well and be used as nutrients for the parts of the new system that require resources to get established.
Globally, we are in such a time right now with energy systems and economic systems too. There are also changes to democracy that are happening as authoritarianism and populism begin to erode democratic institutions and former democracies start to collapse into oligarchies, warmongering pariah states, and populist regimes incapable of robust governance.
The small moves
The two loops are constantly interacting on different scales and in different ways. The lines matter on this map, and so do the spaces. This is less a linear description of what happens next and more a map that can describe and illuminate what is needed at different times. So as we look at the small moves on the map, think about them and where the other loop is. Realize that the “higher” a loop gets, the more it tends to ignore the positions below it, whether those are inevitable parts of its future or the moves of the other system. Influence gives you privilege. The legacy system is rarely aware of how it came to power, what it took to grow, and indeed at what cost. Likewise, the emerging loop seems always to be aware of what the legacy loop is up to, but rarely has the full picture, and very often, people in the Name and Connect spaces often actively try to dissociate themselves from the legacy system, even as they continue to depend on it for their food, money, energy, services and institutional power. The whole
And so a healthy system has folks in all these places all existing simultaneously and actively engaging with other parts of the system. When I have people map themselves onto this diagram, I often see situations where it’s all just innovators or stewards. This represents a risk to efforts because it means that the cluster of people I am working with are not in a relationship with the world around them. They are likely to experience some catastrophic failure because they just can’t see what else is happening.
At any rate, we started naming different points on the map over many years of teaching and working with this model. These points represent leadership moves that are often required in this moment. Here’s a brief description of each, starting on the legacy system. Think of these labels as places where you are more likely to have conversations and where certain skill sets will be really welcome.
The Legacy system
The Stewarding phase of the legacy system is where leaders have conversations and undertake actions aimed at structuring, stablizing and resourcing operations. This is where institutionalization occurs, systems, policies and processes get formalized, and scaling is locked in. Innovation can continue to happen, but organizations here are generally invested in fail-safe planning rather than safe-to-fail planning. Risk is managed. These activities require good traditional managers, and a lot of the work here is done by people who traditionally fall into the “expert” class in the complicated domain of Cynefin.
Once the legacy system hits a peak, uncertainty begins to accelerate. This is a sensitive time in the legacy system because the rise of experts can often cause leaders to believe that we are immune from the changes that more volatile organizations suffer from. There is a desire to believe that everything we have done in the past will continue to work. At this point, you will feel the current stirring below you as the emerging loop takes shape. If you are engaged in good strategic scanning, you will have the situational awareness to know that the context is changing so being able to plan and work in multiple futures is very useful here. If you are a fossil fuel company, by the 1990s, if you hadn’t begun the transition to becoming “an energy company,” you were probably placing yourself at a massive disadvantage. Unsurprisingly, scenario planning was developed in industries like oil or the military, where operational uncertainty was causing established ways of doing things – along with massive amounts of wealth and lives – to be put at risk.
As the legacy system’s influence begins to fade, a period of struggle begins. Realists can see the writing on the wall. Denialists refuse to accept the evidence. Power complicates the conversations. If those who control resources refuse to accept the changes occurring, the system will be starved of what it needs just as it collapses. Collapse of the old in service of the new is inevitable. We see this with churches over the past 1900 years of Christianity. Forms of the church have come and gone over centuries while the religion has endured. Christians still gather around roughly the same stories and philosophies, but the form is very different. I have seen churches close and squander their legacy because those controlling the resources refused to accept this change. Promising that anything can be made great again is a form of denialism. If what you are really stewarding is life, purpose, the provision of energy, governance or services, then you can still do this in different forms in ways that help the transition from one for to the new. Still, only those who hold power and resources can see the writing on the wall. Hosting shadow and fear, working with emotionally charged conflicts and exercising a graceful use of power are all key leadership moves in this stage. Without this, a legacy system will experience a painful death at best, or cause a civil war at worst.
When the inevitable is largely accepted, hospicing, harvesting and honouring the system’s death is a kind thing to do. It allows those served by the system to move as easily as possible into the new emerging system. The Hospice and Transition phases go hand in hand, as anyone who has witnessed a good death will know. In the energy world, Just Transition is all about this. It is about letting go of the old ways we have powered the planet and ensuring everyone can cross over into the new ways. The kinds of backlashes we see to alternatives to fossil fuels are a good indicator that we are not yet in a health transition zone. Politicians and large financial interests will continue to hold on to their beliefs even at the cost of the planet’s health or the prosperity of their citizens. Watching the premier of Alberta rail against electrification is a betrayal of her responsibility to use her province’s creative and financial resources to continue providing energy and jobs to the world. Lines like “heat pumps don’t work in an Alberta winter and EVs are useless rural vehicles” are not rationales for abandoning electrification. Instead, they represent a failure of imagination that serves only to protect fossil fuel capital interests. The Alberta workforce, trained as it is in the infrastructure of oil and gas, is well placed to transition to industrial-scale electricty production in the province. Refusing to seek opportunities because you disagree with the premise is a great way to get left behind.
A seamless transition from one system to another requires a tone of stuff to go right. At the simple level it looks like the transition those of us in our 50s and older made from typewriters to personal computers. As long as computers ran on punch cards or other interfaces, they would not be widely used by the public. Creating a user interface that looked like the one on my typewriter meant that the transition from typing to word processing was pretty seamless. I love that my keyboard still has a “return” key. I doubt many folks in their 20s know why it is called that!
Transition in social systems like health and education and child welfare is really tricky, because you need to provide a continuity of care from one form to another. In Canada, the rise of public health care would have been a massive transition and doctors, hospitals, government bodies, and all the institutional support in place in the 1960s would have been needed to support the continued quality of care for patients even as the funding and governance models in the system were being transitioned from private to public. I’ve seen how tricky this is in providing Indigenous education, health, and child and family services. The necessity for a change to decolonize these fields is always urgent, but the pace needs to move at the speed of the clients.
When a legacy system really does die, the best thing that can happen is for the resources of that system to be repurposed and reused by the emerging system. Watching the rail system in North America be ripped up after trucks and highways became the primary ways of moving cargo across the land was heartbreaking. We are now in desperate need of rail corridors both within cities and between them and that means a massive reinvestment in re-creating infrastructure that we already had. Grieving what is gone and creating choices for what comes next is a beautiful way to support transition. In my work with large Foundations, I can see this happening. Money made in previous generations is held in trust for what comes next. If governments refuse to provide the support for innovation and development, foundations may be able to.
The Emerging system
While the legacy system is the dominant way of doing things there is always innovation happening in its midst. Folks must steward the legacy system aware of where the seeds of change are happening around them. Developing sophisticated sensing practices and being in active connection with folks who are not a part of the legacy system helps to ride the journey of living and dying well. The Naming phase oif the new happens when those labouring away outside of the mainstream find each other. These are often folks who have left the legacy system “walked out” or people who have been “left out” because they were never included in the first place. Those folks are always hard at work developing energy solutions, health care, new forms of food production or cultural revitalization. It is a lonely place until you find others to work with. THis is the world of safe-to-fail work and building prototypes of the new system. The trajectory of this curve is down to begin with because there is far more failure and frustration involved in large-scale innovation than when the legacy system is investing in incremental improvements. There are very few resources available; beyond that, the legacy system will often try to crush you. You might even find the heads of fossil fuel companies leading global conversations on climate change. While such power does need to be a part of the solution, everyone knows that the way to suppress a coup is to seize control over the process.
Naming alone doesn’t generate the ideas that are needed. Good relational work helps to keep people together during the struggle. Building trust and tolerating difference with grace is really important here. Any of us involved in social movements will know what lateral violence comes from the narcissism of small differences as social movements splinter and split like a Monty Python skit.
As innovators find each other and loose connections are woven together, networks start to form. Networks are powerful ways for individuals to support their purposes. Held well, a network enables the sharing of information and ideas, but it doesn’t sustain a level of stability without a central purpose. So when networks are created and supported to create new systems, keeping it together is an important move. That involves finding ways to repurpose resources from the legacy system that are finding their way into innovation, and it also means supporting people who have experienced many failed efforts at change.
When networks mature, and a shared purpose appears, Communities of Practice are the first inklings of new stability as an emerging system coalesces into a System of Influence. Communities of practice require participation and management, meaning that nascent structures that sustain the energizing purpose at the centre of the work start to appear. As Mary Parker Follett wrote 100 years ago, “common purpose is the invisible leader,” and indeed, it is that that requires continual Nourishment.
Increasing structure and stability creates more influence for new ideas invites others, and attracts the investment needed to make the new stable enough to be a destination for the Transition. So as these structures begin to appear, trustworthiness, experience, and security help a system to become the System of Influence that Illuminates possibilities and the opath forward. By now, choices have collapsed. Once a new energy source has been determined, others will likely fall away. Electric vehicles for example, are not new at all. Still, the internal combustion engine dominated the car market in the early 20th century by the way systems of power and resourcing became stabilized creating the economy of scale needed for these machines to become the default engines of our time.
Once the transition happens, the new system stabilizes and becomes the legacy system for the next cycle and on it goes.
Next, I’ll chart a bit of the model’s provenance and how I came to it. Like most of the tools and maps I work with, these are co-created by communities of folks making sense of their work in the world.
A systems change initiative I witnessed on the weekend.
I think my nomination for LinkedIn post of the year goes to Cameron Tokinwise for this one:
Good reminder for those extolling Systems Thinking from Pelle Ehn at the beginning of his still remarkable 1988 book, _Work-Oriented Design of Computer Artifacts_ – that systems are only ever ensembles considered as systems. Systems are not things in the world, but ways of understanding how things in the world relate to each other. Systems Thinking is a choice to interpret the world as sets of systems.
Cameron Tokinwise on LinkedIn, October 2023
To be concerned about trying to effect system change does not mean that there are systems out there needing to be changed, but that one way to explain why change might be proving difficult is to observe aspects of the status quo as systemically interrelated, and so to try to make (design) a new system, that is, new ways in which those things interrelate.
This is important because systems risk being reified into big, solid things that seem to be unchangeable if you think of systems as really existing out there in the world. The classic example is that Babadook we consider to be Capitalism (as opposed to a variety of social relations – and not all social relations [see https://lnkd.in/gPJ8bdnQ] – we perpetuate).
(And yes, things are bit more complicated when observations of systems are considered to be themselves operations of other systems (the ones doing the observing), making such observations performative, constituting the reality of what is observed, at least in the world of/as experienced by the observer and those other systems with whom/which that observer is in an interdependent (or structurally coupled) relation: von Foerester > Maturana > Luhmann > Wolfe.)
I have just today had occasion to bring that up again, talking with a friend about systems change. Like, what is the system? Who says? What are the parts of it we say are the system and why are some things not considered part of the system? And what are we really seeking to change? And what does change even look like?
I continue to mull over this quote and its implications because so much work in the field I am involved in is about “systems change” or “systems transformation” and as long as I have been doing this work, I can see that saying I’m involved in systems change hasn’t really made anything more clear to me. I reject “root causes” of complex problems because, well, complexity tells us that causality is non-linear and effects are emergent so simply addressing “root causes” doesn’t get a predictable change. The root cause of poverty is simply another problem to address, the root of which is something else. The complex world is made of interrelated and interconnected things that aren’t ranked in a discernable hierarchy and that interact constantly in unpredictable ways.
And yet.
We know that there are stable patterns of behaviour that we can look at and call “unjust” and we know there are stable patterns of behaviour that we can look at and call “more just” (one feature of complexity work is that you can never know if you made the best move, but you can usually know that you’ve made a wrong move).
And so, in a conversation with a friend today, I suggested that instead of saying, “We aim to change systems,” why don’t we just say, “We think a just world looks like THIS, and so this is what we will do more of.” You can’t solve all the problems, even if there was a magical root cause that, if we just zapped it with enough transformation, would result in a just world. All that would happen is that competing forces would arrange themselves around other attractors, and new stable patterns would emerge. It might be that, in the battle between individual greed and social compassion for example we get a period of stability for social compassion for a time until individual greed figures out how to tilt the game in its favour again.
In my personal life, I think the world I want to live in has things like organizations and projects done by teams full of people who love and trust one another and that we make things together that people are generally happy with and that we are participating more in the community by singing together, sharing resources and supporting each other. I don’t have a root cause analysis for how I live my life. I don’t sing in choirs because a root cause of alienation and social anxiety is the collapse of co-creative community institutions, and the more spaces for community co-creation that exist, the more felt sense of belonging happens in the world. No. I sing because I love to sing, even when it’s hard and we make mistakes and dry up in performance and slam our foreheads in frustration because it’s hard to sing a minor seventh interval by ear, and I missed my cue again.
The need for theories of change has always struck me as an unnecessary step to making change. There is no perfect theory of change. I’m fond of quoting Micheal Quinn Patton, who said one day, to my delight, “Complexity IS a theory of change!” Good enough. Now get after it, and if things you do create what you think is a more just and caring world, find ways to sustain those things. And if they don’t, stop doing those things immediately. And you can’t do it all, so pick the things you want to do, that are maybe yours to do uniquely, perhaps informed by what others have said are good things to do and do them. Keep an eye on what happens, but trust that your work will travel well in the world. Once it’s out there, you cannot get it back.
A box of donuts that Joanna Vervoza-Dolezal, the starting centre back for TSS Rovers, brought for the Swanguardians on the last game of the season. Reciprocity in support.
Yesterday I had an informal call with a person who is leading up customer relationships for a large local company. The company is both a profit-making venture but also is a community institution and has a profile and responsibility beyond just the bottom line. We were talking about how the organization was stuck and the different approaches that the organization was taking towards customer relations when we stumbled onto an untapped area that may help to get the organization unstuck.
For organizations with double or triple bottom lines, the moment your focus moves beyond a financial return on investment, your customers and clients stop becoming ATMs and start becoming friends. Yes. Friends. The lines between your organizational life and the community become blurred. Social license becomes a reality, and that means that customers suddenly make decisions out of love and loyalty to the bigger vision which they can help co-create. They become non-material investors and shareholders in what you are doing. Your sustainability does not solely rely on making a profit. It relies on how those people that buy your services AND how they help shape and co-create your mission.
Where we got to in this conversation was that the organization needed to find ways to allow customers and clients to offer something back. Rather than going out and catering to their needs constantly and trying traditional marketing methods of giving the illusion of being a part of something, customers and clients of the organization need to have a chance to be meaningfully involved. In fact there are probably at present lots of people who are trying to give back and be involved but haven’t been seen because the organization has no way to receive their gifts. This is a real shift for how this organization has grown to see its customers. As the connection to social license fades away, customers increasingly get seen as people to be catered to, responded to and served. On the surface that seems a noble customer relations strategy, but when challenges are met, there are very few people with a meaningful investment in the organization to help repair it and set it back on track. Customers can just walk away at any time. And if you have customers who have bought into the social bottom line but you are only chasing the dollar, those ones will feel the lack of reciprocity first. When they leave its hard to get them back.
Why? Because people want to give. They want to be a part of something. They want to do something meaningful with their lives, their time and their money. We love a good product, but we also crave being a part of making it. Witness the way Apple for example has created a Distinguished Educator network. This is a way that educators in schools who love Apple products can help create new applications for these products in their schools. These folks are often cutting edge front-line teachers who are exploring pedagogy and using technology in a way that supports good learning theory. They are no longer customers. They are helping the company grow its brand, for sure, by working with schools but they also helping Apple find new ways to use their technology in service of education and learning.
As the Chair of the Board of Rivendell, a non-profit spiritual retreat centre, we’ve been exploring this angle through fundraising. We are an organization that has been generously supported by a Foundation throughout our whole existence and we have decided that we want to start doing fundraising not because we need financial resources, but because we want to create a different relationship with the community of people who love and support us and for whom our organization has made a deep impact in their lives. None of us on the Board are skilled at fundraising, and for all of us the prospect of doing it is terrifying. So we decided to learn together. We worked with a friend of mine who specializes in fundraising in these kinds of situations and he said his job is not parting people from their money but rather “helping people with money them heal by giving them a way to make meaning.”
Heal from what? Partly from a world that has completely commodified us either as a customer or as a unit of productivity. I think humans have a deep need to give and to be a part of something, but those of us who live in capitalist market-based societies are primarily valued as transactions. Everything we do is tracked for the benefit of dominating our attention and ultimately our wallets. But when I am offered an opportunity to provide a gift of time or money because it enters me into reciprocity and relationship, suddenly my life has the meaning I have been seeking. It is truly healing to give a gift and have that gift received.
To refuse an authentic gift is dehumanizing to both the giver and the receiver. Over time, losing the opportunities to provide gifts causes us to lose touch with what fundamentally makes community.
You cannot build communities around transactions. If your organization has a social bottom line at all and your entire customer relations strategy is transactional, I reckon you will always fail on this score. I think many companies who start out with a social bottom line leave it behind if they can’t figure out how to do it and revert to the single financial bottom line. That is enabled with customer management systems and managers who are trained in this type of work. Through our Art of Participatory Leadership training, we seek to teach leadership practices that enable social sustainability through enabling contribution. I’d love to know if folks are seeing this meaningfully taught in MBA programs or inside other institutional management and business programs.
The sustainability of an enterprise with an implicit or explicit community mandate rests in the ability of the enterprise to create spaces for people to give and co-create. That leads to co-ownership which can be material – like with our TSS Rovers FC community-ownership model – or more intangible, like the feeling of connection people have to helping create a space for spiritual renewal at our Rivendell retreat centre. Our sustainability depends on financial security and community. TSS Rovers FC needs to make a profit to survive, but we cannot do that without a community of people investing their time and talent over the long term to create an organization that is about developing humans, whether on or off the pitch. We encourage folks to offer what they can to the enterprise with two principles:
- Assume your talents are needed and;
- Proceed until apprehended.
The result at Rovers is that we have a happy patchwork of folks who offer expertise, enthusiasm, money and sometimes just an extra body to move things around. We even have a tradition of our players helping to set up the stadium and prepare the supporters section before they begin their warm up routines. We try to provide opportunities for everyone to experience gifting, because that is fundamental to the game of football anyway. Giving, receiving, offering space and time, and enabling your team mates to succeed is what secure victory on a football pitch and so we try to bring that ethos into our lives off the field too. That is how we go from being a successful football club to being a place that makes better humans and builds community whether you come to a match, in cleats, boots, shoes, sandals or bare feet.
Think about that. In the place where you are involved as a formal or informal leader, how are you enabling people to give? How are you receiving and holding the gifts and intentions of those in your orbit who are already giving to you? How are you enabling reciprocity to build community and sustainability?