Fear is a waste of imagination

Some of the biggest shifts we are seeing in the way our world operates is being enabled by interoperable systems. Ensuring that my data can work with your data, and that my systems can work with your systems.

This capability is creating fertile conditions for everything from mashups to radical innovation and insight. The “price” we pay for this is not putting fortresses around what we have created. It offers a mindset that recognises that the speed of change makes protection much less effective than collaboration.

Then we get to people, and we seem to slip back a century or so. Non disclosure agreements, non compete clauses, “gardening leave”. All designed to prevent what is known by one from fertilising an idea in another.

There will always of course be areas where this is necessary, but not many. We seem to take it as a default. However, if I “let you go” it means I no longer need or value your potential, so why would you stop me using what I know to work with another to create something new – other than fear?

Driven by fear of missing out, we actively prevent the creation of the new by constraining the people who may bring it about. If we believe the figures for employee disengagement, it seems clear that most businesses only use a fraction of their employees potential, but are driven to prevent anyone else using it for as long as they can.

There is of course a mirror side to this. Why, as employees would we put up with this – other than the fear that our unused potential will not be recognised by another?

The system will eventually sort this out, but in the meantime, at a time when we desperately need every ounce of available creativity to address the huge challenges we face, we are doing ourselves a huge disservice.

If you’re afraid of missing out on an opportunity you have not seen, compare that to the threat of the collapse of the systems we depend on to exist.

If you’re afraid of taking a step into the unknown and uncertain, consider how that will make you feel when you look back on it and recognise you could have.

Everything is connected to everything in one form or another. Increasing human, as well as systems interoperability seem like a good idea really.

Being afraid is a waste of imagination.

When Rules Fray

Organisations and markets crave stability. Stability enables them to pursue efficiency, and mine every last piece of value from a known situation. Stability allows for structures and rules to be created, and for those in power to sleep comfortably at night.

It’s a bit of a problem then when, like any system, things begin to fray at the edges. People start to think differently and act differently. Those who assume they have authority find they don’t. Inconvenient truths, such as a pandemic, disrupt a beautifully designed and documented supply chain.

We find ourselves in the age of the business artist. Creative, observant, challenging and with her own sense of values and priorities. Unencumbered by legacy infrastructure, and unimpressed by an outdated culture.

The system of course tries to bring them back into line. Whether or not no 10 tames Dominic Cummings, or whether Brussels tames Facebook, the genie is out of the bottle.

More than ever, our future will be shaped by the insurgents who are chipping away at a comfortable but alarmed industrial aristocracy.

For our own part, relying on an established organisations for our future is increasingly risky.

When old rules begin to fray, it makes sense to make sure we have our own. So we can use them to navigate the turbulence that is on its way.

Everyone wants to be a chef

One of our local schools is recruiting for a chef. The queue of applicants is out of the door.

Another school is recruiting for a deputy head. There is no queue.

Why is that?

Maybe it’s the narrative.

Teachers, and particularly head teachers have enormous workloads, are assessed continually, have restricted budgets and get caught in any crossfire between parents and authorities.

Chefs are cool. Every other tv show features a chef, or a gardener. They are glamorous, creating culinary and horticultural works of art that last a short while, and transitory pleasure in consumption.

Celebrity chefs get to make their living serving other celebrities.

Teachers grow people. The work they do lasts a lifetime, and their capacity to deliver positive change is huge. Their “added value” over a lifetime is incalculable. They make their living, for the most part, working for the benefit of people you will never hear of.

Yet, as a society, we lionise chefs.

Strange.