Is “The Right Thing To Do?” the right thing to do?

Last December we embarked on this blog with little idea where the journey would take us. We just felt that a lot of people of good will were out there with good ideas about how to make our world better. All we had to do was find them. Or, better yet, for them to find us.

And, through a mix of word of mouth and downright cajoling, they delivered their thoughts, based on their life experiences, for us to share with a wider audience. And, for that, we are truly grateful to every one of them. Here they are:

David Tebbutt Felix Dennis Ray Maguire Ben Goldsmith Clive Longbottom
Euan Semple Mark Chillingworth Martin Banks Hussein Dickie Tracey Poulton
Rob Wirszycz Anne Marie McEwan Tarquin Henderson Dr Bill Nichols Andy Redfern
Tari Lang Jason J Drew Ibukun Adebayo Neil Crofts Drew Buddie

As you probably know, this site is non-commercial. Everything is voluntary and the most anyone gets is the opportunity to see their words published and to give themselves a slight exposure to a wider audience. Some benefit from this more than others. No names, no pack drill.

I’d just like to say “Thank you” to every contributor and reader and wish you all seasonal greetings and a happy new year. We’re going to take a bit of a break now. I’ll leave you with a list of the contributions and perhaps you’ll enjoy reading some of those you missed.

Why things will get better - from a Matt Ridley TED talk
Entrepreneur Extraordinaire, Felix Dennis, on Good Fortune
Never mind GDP, what about Gross National Happiness? - from a Chip Conley TED talk
Reconnecting kids with the school curriculum - Ray Maguire
Has the Khan Academy found the right way to educate? - from a Salman Khan TED talk
Why green makes business sense - Ben Goldsmith
Is sustainable growth a myth? - Clive Longbottom
Rag and bone men of the information world - Euan Semple
The power of community Mark Chillingworth
Where’s the ‘social’ in ‘accountancy’? - Martin Banks
Mind the gap - Hussein Dickie
Inhumane HR behaviour - Tracey Poulton
Listen! (To the right people) - David Tebbutt on Cognitive Edge work
Get on the trust trajectory - Rob Wirszycz
Baby, bathwater, beware … - Anne Marie McEwan
Is green the new gold? - Tarquin Henderson
Hunters got us into this mess – will farmers get us out? - Dr. Bill Nichols
Fairtrade, Organic or Me-Me? - Andy Redfern
How sticky are your labels? - David Tebbutt
Reputation is deeds, not words - Tari Lang
Passion + talent = magic - From Sir Ken Robinson’s work
Authenticity vs perception - Dr. Bill Nichols
Could the fly save humanity? - Jason J. Drew
Ignorance and prejudice - Ibukun Adebayo
Superstorm Sandy: what would you have done? - David Tebbutt
Doing the right thing – even when no one is watching - Neil Crofts
Stubbornness – The Nailhouse Principle - Drew Buddie

So, what do you reckon? Is “The Right Thing To Do?” the right thing to do? Do you know anyone who would like to share their learnings from real life for the greater good?

Please point them at me trttd@tebbo.com. Thank you. (PS It could be you too!)

Stubbornness – The Nailhouse Principle

When Messrs Suggs, McPherson and co. sang Our House, in the Middle of our Street as a generalised description of a stereotypical street in any British town, little could they have realised that those words could have so aptly described the house owned by Luo Baogen and his family in Wenling, China, where quite literally, their house really is in the middle of their street… well, ‘motorway’ to be precise.

Their story, which hit the headlines recently thanks to some incredible photographs, is the latest in a long line of tales of modern derring-do, worthy of the best feats of Robin Hood and which have come to be known as dingzihù, or Nailhouses. (Like stubborn nails that stick out of pieces of wood and can’t be banged in.)

Nailhouse

Image by triplefivedrew in Flickr

Nailhouses have grown very famous in recent years because they stand as a visual metaphor for an unwillingness of the ‘little person’ to be browbeaten by those with more power. The most well-known of all of these is generally held to be the former home of Wu Ping in Chonqing.

Wu Ping owned a home that was slap bang in the middle of what was going to become a modern development. However, dissatisfied with what the family saw as a derisory offer for their property, they refused to move out. This resulted in the remarkable image of a single building, bereft of amenities like power and electricity, standing atop a 10m high mound of earth, like some ancient castle. In order to ascend to his property, the owner, a martial arts expert, had to create a makeshift ladder of nunchakus in order to ascend to his home. Yes, really!

So notorious was this particular case that it spawned one of the most successful computer games in China called The Big Battle: Nail House Versus Demolition Team. But as a stark reminder to real life, the odds were stacked against players. As one player said: “I have already got 70,000 [points] in the game but my house was still demolished. It tells us that the demolition team is not defeatable … The only thing we can do is to wait and die.”

In China this sort of action is possible because ‘the legal private property of citizens cannot be violated’ and there are now many cases that have been documented: one home owner even fashioned a makeshift cannon in order to defend his home from property developers. This behavior is not only confined to China, as seven Japanese farmers who were unwilling to sell their land for what they considered to be a pittance, forced the construction of a runway at Narita airport to deviate around their land in a quite dramatic fashion.

If you are a film lover it is possible that you should be grateful to the “Nailhouse Principle” for the way it has been frequently used as a plot mechanic. “Five ordinary people needed a miracle. Then one night, Faye Riley left the window open,” presaged the drama of the impoverished tenants in Batteries not Included who used extra-terrestrial help to fight unscrupulous property developers. Who can forget the most titanic battle between good and evil ever committed to celluloid: where Miss Steinmetz battles to save her property from the evil Mr Judson with only half a ton of metal to help her in Herbie Rides Again? And last but not least, we are thankful to the glorious tale of Edith Macefield who, unwilling to accept $1 million for her 108 year old farmhouse, held firm as modern offices were built around her. Her story gave rise to one of the most beautiful animated films ever made: Up. As lovely postscript to Edith’s story, she struck up such a rapport with the new building’s construction superintendent that she left her home to him in her will.

So being stubborn can be good. It can bring rewards. It can be the right thing to do. What have you done today that has made you a Nailhouser?

Ignorance and prejudice

I’ve never been one to cry foul when someone calls me a “‘black’ whatever”; I’m usually more concerned about the ‘whatever’ bit than the fact they’ve confirmed what I’ve known since birth, i.e. that I’m ‘black’.

I once started a job in IT whereby I met with so much resistance in my early days there that I felt like taking up kick-boxing to relieve the stress. I was turned down for kick-boxing lessons because, apparently, my massive feet could have knocked an opponent into a coma.

Eventually, the manager who had led the unwelcoming pack told me one day, “You know you’re the best leader I’ve ever worked with and the only problem I had with you at the beginning is you’re black and you’re a woman, and I’ve never worked for either before”.

Okay, so how did this two-pronged ‘revelation’ affect me, and did it influence my views on the IT industry? It didn’t really. Many people have prejudices and biases, yet very few are as honest as this manager was with his straightforward admission that he was prejudiced against women in IT and that his ignorance about reporting to a black woman was affecting his professional relationship with me.

Things got better after this; and after he’d realised my massive ideas matched my foot size (ten, if you’re interested). While on the subject of my feet, I also take strides of purpose while carrying my team members along with me. Moving to the other end of my body, my unusually large nose means I sniff about and probe and ask my managers the right questions, expecting them to provide answers as I steer my department towards our agreed vision.

In the CIO (Chief Information Officer) community, things do need to be spiced up a bit. Attending CIO conferences (we met at one – ed.) is still a pretty testing experience for me as, despite being born in Balham, I’ve always enjoyed rice – preferably extra-large plates with curry, beef and goat meat – with some nice chilli hot pepper, whereas conference delegates tend to be presented with bland tasting rice, sometimes err… dripping with water, and a few tiny bits of lamb, while, of course the ‘polite’ thing to do is to take about two tablespoons of rice and move on to an equally bland tasting sauce. But, more importantly, you don’t see many female CIOs at these events because there are so few women in ‘C’ positions in IT in the UK. And you see even fewer women there from ethnic minorities.

I don’t believe in quotas, rather in appointing the right person to each role whatever their colour, gender or religious orientation. Sexual orientation shouldn’t even come into the recruitment equation, after-all nobody should care who you get into bed with, as long as you’re personally not being asked to get into bed with anyone other than the love of your personal life.

Managerial life really isn’t that stressful and, because of my baptism of fire into a role where I received affirmation of my race and gender plus of my credentials as a good leader, I’ve learned that leadership means being able to differentiate between prejudice and ignorance. It means being able to deal with any conflict that arises from prejudicial behaviour, and being able to identify development needs where ignorance is the issue. It means ensuring that the ignorant are developed until their ignorance turns into awareness, and always remembering that not all ignorant people are prejudiced, yet all prejudiced people are ignorant.

Passion + talent = magic

If you are already familiar with Sir Ken Robinson‘s work, stop reading now. You will already know how much sense he speaks, interspersed with jokes and asides. You’d never know from listening to him that he was born in Liverpool, to a large working-class family. He speaks beautifully and intelligently about the human condition and what we can do to make our lives better.

He rails at how so many of us fail to achieve our potential, largely because of the way we are taught and conditioned. His 2006 TED video on children and creativity is a classic (it has been viewed almost twelve million times). Here’s a quote, “My contention is, all kids have tremendous talents. And we squander them, pretty ruthlessly.”

He views traditional education as an industrial-style narrowing exercise which squeezes out creativity (my paraphrase, not his, by the way). He says, “Our education system has mined our minds in the way that we strip-mine the earth: for a particular commodity. And for the future, it won’t serve us. We have to rethink the fundamental principles on which we’re educating our children.”

The RSA was inspired to get his talk Changing Education Paradigms animated by Andrew Park’s Cognitive Media. That’s been viewed over eight and a half million times. Talk about viral …

And there’s more, much more, on Sir Ken’s website. His most recent work has been around the subject of aligning your passions and your abilities. He contrasts the lives of many who eke out their working lives in anticipation of the weekends and those who are fulfilled in everything they do. Opposite ends of a spectrum of experience, but it’s easy enough to plot where anyone sits on this continuum. His assertion is that we can move. And, indeed, we should move.

In a recent presentation on Passion for the School of Life, he told the story of a book editor who absolutely loved her work yet prior to this she’d been a concert pianist. Her whole life, her education – right up to her PhD – had been centred around music. Yet, she was far more passionate about books than piano recitals. One day, after another successful concert, the conductor suggested that she hadn’t enjoyed it. It was a pivotal moment. She admitted he was right. Soon after, she became a book editor and closed her piano lid for good.

He suggests that if you are doing something you’re good at and that you love, an hour seems like five minutes. To pinch the title of his recent book, written with Lou Aronica, people like this are in their Element.

If you or your colleagues are finding that time drags, then surely that’s a clear signal that you should plan for change. And, if you need inspiration, Sir Ken Robinson can provide it in spades. Providing you’re partial to his jokes.

 

Listen! (To the right people)

Social media has amplified the power of (Bernard Levin’s) single issue fanatics. They are able to quickly galvanise an army to lobby on any topic. Some are entirely worthy but many are questionable. These forces are then directed at governments, bankers, business leaders – whoever they choose to get in their sights.

The sheer volume of signatories or, in extremis, activists suggests that they are representative of ‘the public’ at large. They aim to sway the press, the public as well as their primary targets. The truth is that the quieter voices in social media, as in society as a whole, quite often have the most meaningful things to say.

Other sources of ‘grass roots’ input are statistics and surveys. The first has shortcomings – lead time and interpretation skill being two. The second requires an intelligent set of questions and response options. The way these are phrased almost inevitably funnels the respondents’ answers.

Decision makers have to choose what to do at any time based on their best understanding of the information (or misinformation) available to that point. Whichever way they jump, they’re going to upset someone. But their job is to arrive at some sort of conviction then act on it in time for their actions to have a meaningful effect.

Ideally, their actions should address the real needs of those affected by them. But how often do you see decisions made which are total nonsense because they’re based on abstract principles rather than local context?

At a very mundane level, our local council decided to create a Jubilee Garden – benches, paths, an obelisk, trees and bushes. Had they asked the local park users – dog walkers and the like – they’d have learnt that the garden would end up as a magnet for graffiti, vandalism and litter. The thing’s not even finished yet and the local hooligans have already bent the steel security fences out of shape and scored the new benches.

Of course, this is trivial by comparison with tackling violence in an unstable country or providing the right support to the right people in an area hit by disease or social disorder. Decisions made at the centre may make sense to aid organisations or governments but, to the people on the ground, they may just miss the mark completely. Wasted money, wasted effort and increased disaffection. Not quite the desired result.

This blog is not in the business of promoting products or services but one in particular does point to a possible way forward. SenseMaker is a suite of software tools that helps extract meaning from large collections of personal experiences contributed by members of a community. These stories are triggered by a simple but carefully phrased open question. The teller of the story is then asked to add meaning, or metadata, in various simple ways – plotting their perspective between three variables, using sliders or clicking check boxes in a questionnaire. Without plunging into too much detail, a collection of this metadata is used to generates plots where the clusters reveal widely held feelings about particular issues.

Miniature version of a triad

 

 

A triad plot showing response clusters. Each individual dot leads to a story, enabling the researcher to drill deeper.

 

 

The process is reasonably speedy and the results are not only statistically valid, they are rich in context too. Rather than so-called experts analysing the stories and determining their significance, the respondents themselves do it. This is a profound change from traditional methods. And nothing is lost; the decision makers can drill down to the original stories and really gain an insight to how these previously powerless people experience the world.

Such insights, in the right hands, can lead to the right actions.

My thanks to Irene Guijt, Tony Quinlan and Dave Snowden for much of the intelligent content of this post.