How do you navigate when visibility is reduced? Does your concentration increase? Do you slow down? Do you seek outside assistance? Do you stop and recalibrate?
If we desire a generative conversation, obscure some of the generally available details and commence.
How do you react when you get into your vehicle and the check engine light is illuminated? What if the scenario changes to a rental car? What if the warning flashes on randomly but then ceases?
One critical attribute many enterprises seek is individuals skilled at decision-making. Without more information, none of those incidents mentioned earlier have a proper solution. However, how we seek more context and react may reflect our decision-making ability.
How might we not always recruit the most credentialed individuals for our cause but consider their ability to help our enterprise navigate demanding decisions?
Many a child has heard or seen the tale of The Grinch. The Grinch’s appearance during the holiday season is almost guaranteed in certain countries.
What if our childhood pre-dates the 1957 creation of the Grinch? Or what if we had a different version narrated in our culture? What might have preceded this green icon of emotional transformation? Other stories of gratitude and reclamation of one’s soul were ubiquitous. From biblical to fables, the parable of witnessing humankind in a new light is constant.
How might we avoid being resolved to one version of a narrative? How might we be open to other interpretations? How might portrayals from others add value to our journey instead of challenging our core beliefs?
Why do bicycles, automobiles, blenders, and wind turbines have gears? Why not maintain the same mechanical ratio and remove numerous redundant parts?
A partial answer is that gears allow control over power and movement.
When we are working on a project and an individual requests that we shift gears, it implies that our efforts need to be recalibrated to another ratio. Perhaps we need to add more creativity, speed up, wrap up, abandon, try another way, seek help, change leadership…
Gears are magical when we use them to our advantage. When riding a bike in the French Alps, we might use the entire capacity of the rear cassette. Cruising across town on a greenbelt with a negative one-degree slope and a fixed-gear commuting bike is sufficient. Shifting gears is highly beneficial in mixed terrain and likely fine-tuning in static conditions.
How might we shift gears when it benefits our work but not allow the machine to control the operator?
The ability to make choices is one of the most significant currencies offered to humankind. Not everyone is afforded a similar range of options; some individuals can only choose between undesirable outcomes. Others have seemingly limitless options at any moment.
If we want to assess the culture of our community, family, and workplace, a metric is to examine how we are treated after we make a mistake. Are we provided the space to recover? Do others show up and support us when we trip into a void? Are we permitted to repair the damage and/or share what we have learned with others? Is our identity forever tied to the depths of our narrative, or can we reclaim our story?
Rue Goldberg machines blend engineering, creativity, and autonomy. Designing and building a contraption is an art form. It requires the ability to trial scenarios and use objects in innovative ways. Watching the finished product in action can feel anticlimactic since we anticipate all the obstacles have been removed.
It occurs to me that some groups committed to strategic planning view their process as assembling a Rue Goldberg. They intend to design an elaborate apparatus, commit to a period of trial and error, and then reach a state of predictability where initiating a single event at the start will reach a desired ending. While relying on ingenuity and being flexible in deploying everyday initiatives are consistent with many planning efforts, the controlled environment is unrealistic. Obstacles are what divide planning and acting. We can always reach for tomorrow but only have today to shape the behaviors and processes that will impact our trajectory.
How might we remain flexible as we activate our plan on a daily basis? How might we recognize our plan is at best an outline, if not just some scribbled notes in the margin? How might we embrace the unanticipated instead of building elaborate set pieces to avoid disruption?
Researchers asked people to draw different corporate logos from memory. The results are fascinating and provide insight into what we recollect. What if you were asked to draw your organization’s logo? How about writing down the mission statement? Can you list the three biggest expenses and revenue categories? What is the name of the summer intern at the nonprofit you engage with the most? What was the name of the last author you saw speak in person?
Like the image posted above, we all have some degree of memory and can respond to the prompts. Our fidelity to the actual answers might be marginal. As an interesting corollary, ask respondents for the three most important things about your enterprise. Is there a contrast between the basic components and their responses? It might be illuminating.
Have you spent time searching for a misplaced key, phone, clothing, or personal item only to discover that the mislaid item is already in your possession: keys in a pocket, phone in hand, clothing on your person? Sometimes, that which is closest to us is easiest to overlook. We glance over the super fans who show up to each of our events, unintentionally ignore the text of encouragement from the best friend, and create a blind spot for the donor who contributes without prompting. However, when the pattern is broken, we notice. We go searching for the critical components that had filled crucial roles. We see the negative space where once it was occupied.
How might we account for the foundation of our work without always gazing skyward to estimate how many more floors we can amass? How might we pause to thank those that are fundamental to our success? How might we inventory the area around us before racing out to secure a new version of what we already possess?
When we cannot glimpse the landscape ahead from a superior vantage point, it creates feelings of uncertainty. The recent US Presidential election, which initiated a leadership change, means many social sector organizations will face an altered landscape to fulfill their mission. A complete rewrite of a strategic plan is perhaps too much work or inappropriate at this juncture. Perhaps a scenario panning session might offer a productive output. Several enterprises used scenario planning during the pandemic when the rules were unclear, and long-term viability remained obscure. One of my favorite models is the Six Thinking Hats from Edward de Bono. I appreciate that only some ‘hats’ (mindset) will resonate with our key attributes, but completing the process delivers a holistic experience. Generative conversations can replace fear and unknowing with alignment and increased clarity.
A year-in-review process is similar to examining scorecards from the previous 12 months of golf. There was an optimal route and score to achieve (par) versus the reality of the rounds played. Rarely did the round run as scripted. The year ahead is analogous to assessing blank scorecards of the rounds we intend to play. There is a plan and the vision of completing the track as outlined and achieving the best possible score.
How much room are we leaving in these plans for the unanticipated? How calibrated is our script to our abilities? How much will our resources and equipment add or detract from the journey?
Golf (and planning for the future) would be boring if they always followed the same articulated plan. Our best stories often prosper from encountering the unknown. Serendipity thrives!
What-if-concepts 