Change paradox: Difference between revisions

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{{a|devil|}}If we take it that, like any other intellectual proposition, a management initiative must be driven by some ''theory'' or other — that is, it is designed to prove out a proposition that already exists in the mind of an executive — and the sorts of executives who get to test existing propositions in their own minds are ones to be found at or near the summit of the organisation —we quickly start to see the paradoxical nature of “change from the top”.
{{a|devil|}}If we take it that, like any other intellectual proposition,<ref>I speak of none other than the [[Duhem-Quine thesis]], that it is impossible to test a scientific hypothesis in isolation, because any test presupposes one or more background assumptions and auxiliary hypotheses.</ref> a management initiative must be driven by some ''theory'' or other — that is, it is designed to prove out a hypothesis that ''already exists in the mind of an executive'' — and the sorts of executives who get to test the hypotheses that live in their minds tend to be found at or near the summit of their organisations —we quickly start to see the [[paradox]]ical nature of ''mandated organisational change'': the mandate must come from those who have lived their best lives within the status quo, and who have most to lose from any change.


It is this: the will to organisational ''change'' in a firm proceeds from the conviction that its current structure is, somehow, ''wrong'' sub-optimal, dysfunctional, broken or just out of step with the times. That conviction, as we note, must live in the mind of someone near enough to the top of the organisation to command it to investigate.
The argument runs like this: the will to organisational ''change'' derives from the conviction that one’s current configuration is, somehow, ''wrong'': for its notional set of goals, sub-optimal, dysfunctional, elliptical or just ''broken'': out of step with the times.  


Now an organisation’s formal structure is a system: an intricate network of stocks, flows and feedback loops. It consumes resources, generates artefacts and over time produces widgets, products, outputs — and ''people''. In an odd way the organisation ''makes'' its own personnel: it selects them, moulds them, weeds out those not well-enough aligned with its values, nurtures those most suitable. The most successful of these — the most paradigmatically ''of'' the organisation; the most perfectly resemblent of its essence — they make it to top of the greasy pole: the executive suite.  
For change to come, such a conviction must live in the mind of a person with the wherewithal to ''bring'' the change.
 
However much they might present to the outside world as embodiments of the free market, within their walls most commercial organisations are dictatorships.<ref>The analogy is eerily precise. There is a tight command-and-control structure, centralised dissemination and revision of information, and all is ably supported by a [[human resources|clandestine internal agency]] whose job is to keep the rank and file in a state of fear, and stamp out those malcontents who don’t get the message. </ref>
 
Thus only those at the top of the organisation have that wherewithal.
 
Now an organisation’s formal structure is a system: a Byzantine pulmonary system of stocks, flows and feedback loops that send information, consume resources, generate artefacts and, over time make things — not just widgets for sale, but whole new systems and subsystems of the organism itself. By its reflexive operation, the firm ''self-generates''.
 
One of the things it self generates is its ''leaders''. In an odd way the organisation ''makes'' its own personnel: it selects them, moulds them, weeds out those not well-enough aligned with its values, nurtures those most suitable, and where none are suitable, it buys in ones who are. The most successful of these — the most paradigmatically ''of'' the organisation; the most perfectly resemblent of its essence — they make it to top of the greasy pole: the executive suite.
 
You will already notice ''another'' [[paradox]] here: however singly directed from on high it seems, the very illusion of command-and-control ''[[emergence|emerges]] from the subconscious machinations of the beast''.


These men and women owe their very position to their utter synchronicity with how the firm is now. All its imperfections, cock-eyed, peg-legged, pie-bald, skewiff glory.
These men and women owe their very position to their utter synchronicity with how the firm is now. All its imperfections, cock-eyed, peg-legged, pie-bald, skewiff glory.
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{{C|paradox}}
{{C|paradox}}
{{Ref}}

Revision as of 08:21, 23 October 2021


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If we take it that, like any other intellectual proposition,[1] a management initiative must be driven by some theory or other — that is, it is designed to prove out a hypothesis that already exists in the mind of an executive — and the sorts of executives who get to test the hypotheses that live in their minds tend to be found at or near the summit of their organisations —we quickly start to see the paradoxical nature of mandated organisational change: the mandate must come from those who have lived their best lives within the status quo, and who have most to lose from any change.

The argument runs like this: the will to organisational change derives from the conviction that one’s current configuration is, somehow, wrong: for its notional set of goals, sub-optimal, dysfunctional, elliptical or just broken: out of step with the times.

For change to come, such a conviction must live in the mind of a person with the wherewithal to bring the change.

However much they might present to the outside world as embodiments of the free market, within their walls most commercial organisations are dictatorships.[2]

Thus only those at the top of the organisation have that wherewithal.

Now an organisation’s formal structure is a system: a Byzantine pulmonary system of stocks, flows and feedback loops that send information, consume resources, generate artefacts and, over time make things — not just widgets for sale, but whole new systems and subsystems of the organism itself. By its reflexive operation, the firm self-generates.

One of the things it self generates is its leaders. In an odd way the organisation makes its own personnel: it selects them, moulds them, weeds out those not well-enough aligned with its values, nurtures those most suitable, and where none are suitable, it buys in ones who are. The most successful of these — the most paradigmatically of the organisation; the most perfectly resemblent of its essence — they make it to top of the greasy pole: the executive suite.

You will already notice another paradox here: however singly directed from on high it seems, the very illusion of command-and-control emerges from the subconscious machinations of the beast.

These men and women owe their very position to their utter synchronicity with how the firm is now. All its imperfections, cock-eyed, peg-legged, pie-bald, skewiff glory.

No employee survey, no well-being outreach, no human resources questionnaire in history has been designed to prove out the point that the executive suite is populated by a bunch of glad-handing dilettantes, that the upper layers of senior mmanagementadd no value and stunt the organisation’s forward progress, much less that human resources is in itself a pernicious waste of space. I dare say it would be rather fun if someone were to try.

But this is the thing: change comes from fracture, disruption and when shafts of light are thrown unexpectedly by unintentionally broken windows to iilluminate old problems or new opportunities in wholly unexpected ways.

If you are a leader in your organisation, your thought leadership — to the extent it is directed toward organizational change, is bunk.

References

  1. I speak of none other than the Duhem-Quine thesis, that it is impossible to test a scientific hypothesis in isolation, because any test presupposes one or more background assumptions and auxiliary hypotheses.
  2. The analogy is eerily precise. There is a tight command-and-control structure, centralised dissemination and revision of information, and all is ably supported by a clandestine internal agency whose job is to keep the rank and file in a state of fear, and stamp out those malcontents who don’t get the message.