Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Painfully Obvious: Find Links

by Kent Aitken RSS / cpsrenewalFacebook / cpsrenewalLinkedIn / Kent Aitkentwitter / kentdaitkengovloop / KentAitken

At the outset of my public service career, I listened to a conference keynote entirely dedicated to networking. It was presented through the lens of career-building, and to me, sounded like sucking up and charlatanism. I switched off.

A few years later, I was at a table with a handful of municipal, provincial, and federal CIOs discussing how they handled their career evolution toward managing people with more, and more current, technical expertise. Here's the simple, but showstopping solution from one of them:
“I've spent the latter half of my career building business skills, but also building a network. I have twenty years worth of friends I can call any day to ask “Hey, can this consultant do a good job on X project?”
By that time, I understood the importance of networks (and it avoided the language of "networking" as an activity, which has negative connotations for me). So it stuck.

Yet, I've realized that the relationships we should invest in aren't always obvious. In July, a series of chance events landed me in the basement of a pub in Washington, DC. I ended up sitting next to a bright American public servant, and after talking for a few minutes we realized that we were working on exceptionally similar projects, facing many of the same challenges. So now, we're setting up videoconferences to compare notes. But, it struck me that I could have found that connection through three minutes of Googling, with plenty of context to reach out.

This is you in your career: a massive room, with a tiny flashlight.
You know there's a lot of good stuff to be found, but not what, and not where.

One of the authors of The Metropolitan Revolution, Jennifer Bradley, had this to say after interviewing a slew of city stakeholders:
"When we go around the country, whether it was all the mayors in the Denver Metropolitan Area, or the philanthropies in Northeast Ohio, they would say, "We never got together."...It’s the most simple thing, and you do feel like a dork the first few times you tell people "no really, just get everyone in a room," but over and over again we heard that that was a huge step. And I think it has to do with the fact that people are so busy doing what they think of as their day-to-day job, they forget to step back and look laterally and think about what somebody else might be doing."
That excerpt is from an article called A Lot of Civic Leaders Need to Listen to This Painfully Obvious Advice.

If you take the time to seek those who can shine light on things, suddenly it's all that much easier.

On the surface, yes, it's painfully obvious: talk to people who can help you do your job. But sometimes you won't know them yet - they'll be just outside your network. Just outside the part of the map you can see. It doesn't always seem easy to find and initiate contact with people you haven't met yet, particularly if they're experts in your field. Here's what I've been trying to remember:
  1. We have policy cover to use the internet for "participating in professional associations, knowledge sharing and career development." Which is pretty broad. ("I'm writing as a X enthusiast who happens to work for Y.")
  2. The world will almost certainly not end if you email a possible contact. In fact, the opportunity cost of not trying far outweighs the risk.
  3. If your job is important (and it is), dedication and diligence in establishing relationships with colleagues and counterparts isn't a career move. It's just your job.
So I pushed my mind through that lens, and I'm pulling my body after.


Friday, August 2, 2013

One man's trash is another man's treasure

by Nick Charney RSS / cpsrenewalFacebook / cpsrenewalLinkedIn / Nick Charneytwitter / nickcharneygovloop / nickcharneyGoogle+ / nickcharney

If we redefine waste as cognitive surplus then the question ceases to be how do we best eliminate waste and becomes how ought we best direct our cognitive surplus.*


*Epilogue
It pains me to even have to write this but I feel compelled to so because I don't want you to treat today's post as a throwaway; it is as profound as it is brief. It's neither a political nor a social commentary, but rather a door to the adjacent possible; and at the risk of being over-dramatic, it may be one of the most important things I have ever written.

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Where Good Ideas Go To Die

by Kent Aitken RSS / cpsrenewalFacebook / cpsrenewalLinkedIn / Kent Aitkentwitter / kentdaitkengovloop / KentAitken

A year ago, I wrote a post about how and why good ideas face resistance (see: Renewal and Resistance). Today we still can't swing a good idea without hitting a Clay Layer*, and I thought that it was about time to revisit it.

The Clay Layer is this amorphous, eternal layer in the middle of organizations "through which no light shall pass,” and to which no one admits being a part of. It is where communications and good ideas go to die. People send ideas on journeys down or up the chain, seemingly with all the supplies needed, but never hear word from the destination.

Here's how it works: The President of an organization has a Great Idea. They instruct their lieutenants, the VPs, to make it happen. The VPs turn to the directors, who tell the managers, who tell the supervisors, who implement it with their employees.

Except they don't.


This Machine

In some organizations the Clay Layer may actually be a management layer. In others, it could be people, policies, or processes. But my contention was that it is more so a mathematical inevitability.

Hierarchies and ideas just don't get along. If there is anything less than unconditional support for a given idea, every layer in an organization represents an opportunity for support to break down. Worse, the chance for resistance, or non-support, at each layer compounds, multiplied by each additional layer.

So, the chance of meaningful implementation of that President's Great Idea is equal to:


Where x is the chance of support and y is the number of nodes in a hierarchy. It's y-1 because presumably, the President has 100% support for the idea.

Expanding this example, with 6 nodes (a President as node 1 and an employee as node 6), and a 85% (dare I say high?) chance of support for an idea:

0.85*0.85*0.85*0.85*0.85* = .44


So, 85% of the people in this organization would individually, if they ever heard about it, support the President's idea. But when the machine manufacturing it is a hierarchy, it has less than a fifty-fifty shot at success.

Or:

The Solution

The Clay Layer isn't a management layer, it's a function of the organizational system. So if there is a shred of truth in this, the approach seems clear as we try to get Great Ideas' success rates as close as possible to 100%:
  • Minimize y: reduce the number of layers involved by flattening organizations
  • Maximize x: ensure high rates of support for ideas through compelling presentation, cultural norms, and sheer persistence and reinforcement of key ideas
But there's an unfortunate corollary to our equation. The President will systematically underestimate how much they need to reinforce ideas (maximize x), because progress reporting has the same flaw: any inaccuracies in reporting compound at each level of the hierarchy. And every node has an incentive to overstate their level of support, and the level of success.

So, one has to disrupt the features of hierarchies. If the President receives feedback from multiple levels, they can better understand the implementation of their ideas, and adjust their approach if needed. Likewise, if the President can directly engage multiple levels and empower them in the implementation, the assumptions on which this equation rest dissolve.



*Nick has written about the Clay Layer at least once before

Actually, for that matter he also wrote a post called Where Good Ideas Go To Live And/Or Die.