Iām Luke Craven; this is another of my weekly explorations of how systems thinking and complexity can be used to drive real, transformative change in the public sector and beyond. TheĀ first issueĀ explains what the newsletter is about; you can see all the issuesĀ here.
So oft in theologic wars,
Ā Ā Ā Ā The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Ā Ā Ā Ā Of what each other mean,
And prate about an Elephant
Ā Ā Ā Ā Not one of them has seen!
Hello, dear reader,
Well, a lot has been happening this week! As some of you many have heard, after two years in ATO Design, I am moving to a new role leading the development of the Enterprise Performance and Improvement Centre (yes, thatās EPICā¦! š„³), a new branch which will support the ATO to take a holistic view of its operations and drive a culture of end-to-end improvement. In all the excitement, I missed my deadline for this weekās newsletterāit was bound to happen eventually! Mea culpa.
At some point, I will write an issue about what I learned during my time in ATO Design, including how it has shifted the way I think about the power and possibility of systems work in the public sector. ATO Design has a long history as a path-breaker in the application of design in government and the past two years have been no different.1 Iām exceptionally proud of the small part I have played as we have continued to break new ground in the development of a more systems-led and complexity-friendly approach to design practiceāwhat we have called āsystems-led designā. Iāve shared parts of that story with you before but, with time, there will be so much more to tell.
In the meantime, I have been reflecting on my new challenge. What does it mean for an organisation to take a holistic view of its operations? How can it understand those operations from different vantage points or perspectives? What kind of new possibilities does a more holistic view enable? In asking myself these questions, I reminded of one of my one of my favourite systems thinking clichĆ©s: the story of the blind men and the elephant. Some of you may have heard the story before, but for those of you that havenāt or that need a refresher, it broadly goes as follows:
A group of blind men heard that a strange animal, called an elephant, had been brought to the town, but none of them were aware of its shape and form. Out of curiosity, they said: "We must inspect and know it by touch, of which we are capable". So, they sought it out, and when they found it they groped about it. The first person, whose hand landed on the trunk, said, "This being is like a thick snake". For another one whose hand reached its ear, it seemed like a kind of fan. As for another person, whose hand was upon its leg, said, the elephant is a pillar like a tree-trunk. The blind man who placed his hand upon its side said the elephant, "is a wall". Another who felt its tail, described it as a rope. The last felt its tusk, stating the elephant is that which is hard, smooth and like a spear.
The story has multiple iterations and inflections. Some are true to the original intent, others are bastardisations used to peddle a particular messages. More and more, I see the story used as a way to suggest that together we have the capability to āsee the whole systemā or take more holistic view of a particular problem or context. There are parts of this parable I love, but this particular framing perpetuates a range of unhelpful messages about complexity:
It encourages the view that the elephant is a āthingā that can be objectively understood. Quite the opposite. There is no elephant andāeven if there wasāits parts are best understood not as a metaphor for the different parts of the system (āthe whole systemā), but for the different worlds we experience as we grapple with complexity and our attempts at making sense of them. We can appreciate and make use of those different perspectives even if they might not result in something we can all call an elephant.
It is used to justify the claim that a consensus view of a problem or context is possible if you get people to talk about their different perspectives. As I have written before, consensus is neither possible nor desirable in a complex environment. One of the basic principles of complexity is that different individualsĀ experience complex systems in different ways. Some of those differences are probably superficial, but there are others that will be material, incongruous and paradoxical. The common impulse is to iron over those differences (what Iāve seen called āanalysisā or āsynthesisā or ātriangulationā) in search of shared understanding, but we should not be afraid of difference and multiplicity in our work. Accommodating it does more justice to complexity than pretending it does not exist. It would do us well to reflect on what is lost when we prioritise superficial alignment over meaningful difference.
It underplays the conditions that lead to the silences and incompatibilities amongst a group of perspectives. If we acknowledge that attempts to understand complexity are always partial, then our task should be to understand the conditions that enable and constrain the emergence of different perspectives. Why do people only have access to certain sensemaking practices? Why do some have more voice than others? Why are some listened to more frequently? If we can embrace the idea of the elephant as a set of multiple (but partial) understandings, views of complexity that are both complementary and contradictory, thenāultimatelyāwe might be able to build an account of the world around us that weaves knowledge, context, and power together in a rich empirical setting.
The quicker we can agree that there is no elephant to be seen, the better. Over time, Iāve come to understand that the holistic, āwhole of systemā view that we so commonly claim to reach for is not about uncovering the elephant. Instead, it is about creating a space in which we can sit with multiple, potentially incompatible perspectives, make connections between them because of and despite their differences, and have conversations about what we can do with them that we might collectively value. Itās that kind of space that I hope EPIC will be.
A final wordā¦
Of course, my favourite part about the the irony of this story, and its centrality to arguments about systems thinking, is that it equally applies to conversations about what systems thinking is and what it is not. In one of the earliest versions of the parable, the elephant in question is the Buddhist concept of the dharmas. Perhaps then it unsurprising that in our own theologic wars, we prate on about systems thinking as if our particular interpretation is that same Elephant, despite it being something that not one of us has ever seen š
By the way:Ā This newsletter is hard to categorise and probably not for everyoneābut if you know unconventional thinkers who might enjoy it, please share it with them.
Find me elsewhere on the web atĀ www.lukecraven.com, on TwitterĀ @LukeCraven, on LinkedInĀ here, or by email at <luke.k.craven@gmail.com>.
Nina Terreyās telling of the story is the most comprehensive.
Interesting write up, and you're using the elephant story to demonstrate a point about complexity.
It would be good to remember that often the parable is used to help people who are on the first rungs of the ladder of moving away from pure reductionism, and the story can help to shift their paradigm.
Also, not all situations are completely complex, even in the public sector. Working in health and social care is perhaps one of the most complex, and there is still instances where complexity and linearity co-exist.
And the view of complexity in operations in health care is obvious; it is high. But standing back and looking at the whole picture, it is certainly possible and important to understand the patterns and trends behind the complexity. And in that situation, the elephant parable can still have an important place.
I suppose I am highlighting the fact that it might be a simplification to talk about complexity as an absolute, when in reality in organisations it is almost always a characteristic. And that characteristic is mixed in with others.
Having said all that, the elephant parable can be very helpful in certain situations, and unhelpful in others. And I presume you are simply highlighting that?
John
Readers of this great commentary may enjoy another socio-philosophical discussion of the fable, stimulated by Donald Michael's essay "Some observations regarding a missing elephant". https://www.co-intelligence.org/MissingElephantCommentary.html