“Do nothing that is not play.”

— Marshall Rosenberg

Defining Our Terms

The tension in this post emerges from the precise meanings of dilettantism and play, and how they intersect in the realm of management. Modern usage of dilettante has sharpened the original meaning into something more pointed: “a person having a superficial interest in an art or branch of knowledge.” The dilettante becomes the eternal dabbler, perpetually skimming surfaces, accumulating breadth at the expense of depth.

Play proves more complex to define, existing in multiple forms. At its most basic, play represents voluntary activity pursued for its own sake. Yet this simplicity masks profound variations. There’s the free play of children, unbounded by rules or purpose. There’s game play, structured by rules yet infinitely variable within them. There’s what Michael Schrage terms “serious play”—the rigorous, iterative experimentation that drives innovation. And there’s playfulness itself: an attitude or stance toward activity that transforms work into joyful exploration.

The Heart of the Matter

The paradox emerges in the space between Rosenberg’s liberating insistance on play and Schrage’s insistence – described in his book “Serious Play” – on a focus on purpose. Here lies a tension that every organisation must navigate: true play, the kind that generates innovation and insight, demands both freedom and focus, both lightness and depth.

The Dilettante’s Fatal Attraction

The dilettante, that pretentious dabbler in superficialities, finds themselves drawn to Rosenberg’s philosophy like a moth to a flame. They hear in it permission to remain forever an amateur, skimming across domains, tasting but never digesting, starting but never mastering. Their interpretation of play becomes a justification for perpetual fucking around.

The Nature of Serious Play

Yet Schrage reveals a deeper truth about play—one that the dilettante consistently misses. Serious play, the kind that drives innovation and creates value, emerges from commitment rather than casual posturing. It manifests in the child who spends hours perfecting a tower of blocks, the musician who practices scales with joyful dedication, the scientist who delights in methodical experimentation, and the manager who knuckles down and truly gets to grip with the fundamentals of his trade. Aside: In all my 50 year career to date I have NEVER come across anyone in a management role who was other than a dilettante of the first order.

The Paradox Revealed

Here then is our paradox: the most productive form of play requires a seriousness, a focus on purpose, that seems, at first glance, to contradict the very nature of play itself. The innovation that emerges from genuine play demands a depth of engagement that the dilettante, by definition, cannot muster. Yet this “serious” play – which I prefer to label “purpose-driven play” – retains all the joy, curiosity, and freedom that makes play so powerful in the first place.

Management’s Peculiar Position

Modern management finds itself caught in this paradox. The role demands breadth, requiring managers to engage with multiple domains and disciplines. Yet management culture and the management mythos naturally encourages, and often rewards, dilettantism. Effective management requires the capacity for serious play—the ability to engage deeply and systematically with problems and possibilities. Which is perhaps why we so rarely see any kind of effective management.

Threading the Needle

The resolution, perhaps, lies in understanding that productive play is a bedfellow of expertise and competence, not dilettantism. It combines playful openness and curiosity with the expert’s depth and application. This is the space where innovation flourishes, where creativity meets capability, where freedom serves function.

Conclusion

In the end, Rosenberg and Schrage both illuminate essential truths. Yes, we can choose to do nothing that is not play—and we can choose to understand play in its fullest, most liberating sense. The dilettante’s superficial approach fails not because it embraces play, but because it misunderstands play’s true nature. (Not that dillettantes seek justification for their feckless and shallow posturing. Such intent would run contrary to their very amateurism.  And most of them remain entirely unaware of their very dilettantesque nature.)  Real play – the kind that brings joy, learning and insight, transforms organisations, and creates value – demands both a lightness of spirit, and a depth of engagement which the dilettante, finding it onerous, shirks.

Perhaps the ultimate challenge for managers is to cultivate this deeper form of play—one that maintains joy while pursuing mastery, that preserves curiosity while building autonomy, and encourages bold experimentation whilst guided by a shared purpose. In this light, the dilettante serves as both a warning and a cautionary tale: a reminder of play’s appeal and the perils of its insufficient expression in casual engagement.