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I Hate People

The Misanthropic Therapist

There’s something liberating about admitting I don’t particularly like people. Not any specific person—that would be personal animosity, which requires emotional investment. Rather, it’s a general distaste for the species, a weary recognition of humanity’s fundamental patterns that extends to our collective behaviour as well.

Misanthropy, at its core, is a dislike or distrust of humankind—a philosophical stance of genuine indifference to human worth or value. My misanthropy isn’t about viewing humans as disappointing, complex, or contradictory—those would still be evaluative positions. Rather, it’s complete neutrality about whether humans are good, bad, functional, or dysfunctional. Rather, it’s genuine indifference to all evaluative categories whatsoever. I’m not saying humans are good or bad—that would still be an evaluation. I’m saying I choose to have no opinion about their worth, functionality, or potential. And as an Organisatioal Therapist, ditto for organisations. They simply exist, and I observe that existence without preference. Whilst some might view this harsh language as creating separation rather than connection, I’ve found that brutal honesty about my authentic starting point is more compassionate than pretending to feel warmth I don’t possess.

Here’s the counterintuitive truth I’ve discovered: disliking individuals has made me better at working with organisations. It’s often dismissed as mere cynicism or bitterness, but I’ve found it to be quite the opposite: it’s made me exceptionally good at understanding organisational dynamics.

The Paradox of My Productive Misanthropy

Here’s the counterintuitive truth I’ve discovered: disliking individuals has made me better at working with organisations. As I don’t expect people to be particularly rational, consistent, or even competent, I’m rarely surprised by organisational dysfunction. Instead of feeling frustrated or betrayed when systems fail or people behave predictably, I can remain compassionate with the empathy of a therapist.

I think of it this way: an entomologist doesn’t get angry at ants for following their biological programming. They study the colony, observe the patterns, and work within the system’s natural tendencies. I apply the same principle to human organisations, except the stakes are higher.

Emotional Neutrality as My Analytical Advantage

Since I don’t expect individuals to be particularly rational or consistent, I’m rarely disappointed by organisational dysfunction. Instead, I can observe it dispassionately, like studying the behaviour of ant colonies or market forces or armies. This lack of emotional investment provides me with several advantages:

Pattern Recognition: When I’m not invested in believing that people should act rationally, I become much better at seeing the actual patterns of how they do behave. I notice the unspoken hierarchies, the real decision-making processes, and the gap between stated policies and lived reality. Chris Argyris would call this the difference between Espoused Theory (what organisations claim to follow) and Theory-in-Use (what actually governs their behaviour). This clarity helps me form helpful questions using the Socratic approach. When I can see the contradictions and unstated assumptions clearly, I can ask the kinds of questions that help reveal the actual dynamics at play.

Systems Thinking: Individual incompetence becomes less relevant when we see it as a predictable variable in a larger system. Poor communication isn’t a personal failing—it’s an emergent property of how this particular organisational system has evolved. Like all organisational patterns, it arose organically from the interaction of personalities, structures, and circumstances over time. My role is to help the organisation’s collective psyche recognise its own patterns, not to evaluate them.

Strategic Clarity: Without the emotional noise of expecting better from people, I can focus on understanding what actually functions. I help organisations recognise when they’re working with human nature rather than against it. When people consistently take shortcuts, misunderstand instructions, or act in their own self-interest, these aren’t failures to correct—they’re patterns the organisation might choose to understand and work with rather than fight.

My View of the Collective Problem

My misanthropy extends beyond individuals to humanity as a collective. We’re a species that created nuclear weapons and climate change, after all.

We consistently prioritise short-term gains over long-term survival, tribal loyalty over rational discourse, and comfortable lies over inconvenient truths. This collective dysfunction is perhaps even more frustrating than individual incompetence because it represents the compounding of all our most destuctive tendencies.

But again, I’ve found this recognition becomes operationally useful. Organisations are microcosms of broader human behaviour. The same cognitive biases, tribal dynamics, and short-term thinking that plague our species also manifest in every company, nonprofit, and government agency. Familiarity with these patterns at a macro level helps me navigate them at the organisational level.

The Misanthrope’s Unconditional Positive Regard

Here’s perhaps the most counterintuitive insight I’ve discovered: my misanthropy might actually achieve what Carl Rogers called ‘unconditional positive regard’ more effectively than his own idealism ever could.

Rogers taught that therapists can choose to accept clients completely, without agenda or expectation. But in practice, therapists who ‘believe in’ their clients carry hidden expectations. They’re disappointed when clients don’t progress, frustrated when clients make self-defeating choices, or subtly invested in clients discovering their ‘true potential’. This isn’t truly unconditional regard—it’s positive regard with strings attached.

R.D. Laing understood this paradox well. He spent his career challenging psychiatric orthodoxy and questioning who gets to define ‘normal’ or ‘healthy’. Laing might have recognised that my misanthropic stance represents a form of therapeutic sanity in what he would consider an insane therapeutic establishment—one that claims to accept clients whilst secretly trying to fix them according to social norms.

My misanthropic approach sidesteps these traps. I don’t believe humans are particularly wonderful, so I’m never disappointed when they’re messy, contradictory, or self-sabotaging. I don’t have faith in their potential, so organisational systems never feel the burden of living up to my beliefs about human nature. I don’t expect growth or insight or positive change, so there’s no hidden pressure for organisations to validate my therapeutic worldview.

This creates space for something remarkable: genuine acceptance without agenda. When I sit with an organisation, I’m not secretly hoping they’ll become more functional, more enlightened, or more successful. I’m simply witnessing what is, without needing it to be anything else. Most therapists, even those trying to be non-judgmental, still operate within categories of ‘healthy vs. unhealthy’, ‘functional vs. dysfunctional’, ‘growth vs. stagnation’. My genuine indifference sidesteps all of that. I’m not invested in those categories at all. Organisations just… are what they are.

This creates an extraordinarily clean therapeutic space with no hidden agenda for organisational systems to become ‘better’ or even to stay the same. There’s no subtle pressure to prove they’re worth caring about, and crucially, no satisfaction when they confirm pessimism—because I have no pessimism. It’s pure witnessing without any evaluative overlay, presence without preference. This might be the purest form of unconditional positive regard possible—regard that is genuinely unconditional because it contains no hidden hope that clients will justify the therapist’s belief in them. Most therapeutic relationships, however well-intentioned, still carry the subtle expectation that clients will validate the therapist’s worldview. Pure indifference eliminates even this.

Ironically, this complete absence of expectation often creates better conditions for authentic change than optimistic hope ever could. When organisational systems feel truly witnessed as they are—contradictions, patterns, and all—without any pressure to be different, they’re free to explore what they might become. Unlike individual therapy, I’m working with the collective psyche, the shared mental models and unconscious assumptions that drive group behaviour. Rather than missing opportunities for deeper connection, removing my emotional investment actually creates space for more authentic connection with the organisational system. When an organisation doesn’t feel obligated to validate my positive regard or live up to my hopes, it’s freer to express the authentic patterns of its organisational psyche.

This approach doesn’t deny that transcendent moments happen—it simply doesn’t expect or depend on them. When genuine nobility or meaning-making does emerge, it might actually be more powerful because it’s unexpected. My authentic surprise and witnessing of unforced transcendence could be more impactful than anticipated admiration. There’s something profound about recognising beauty you weren’t looking for.

The Organisational Psychotherapist’s Advantage

My role as an organisational psychotherapist is to help client organisations surface and reflect on their hidden assumptions and beliefs. My focus is on the collective psyche, not individuals’. This is where my misanthropy becomes a professional superpower. When I don’t share the emotional investment that insiders have in their organisational mythology, I can see the unconscious beliefs that drive behaviour—the unstated rules about power, the unexamined assumptions about success, the collective blind spots that everyone has agreed to not notice.

Organisations, like individuals, often resist examining their deepest beliefs because those beliefs serve psychological functions beyond their stated purposes. My misanthropic perspective allows me to remain curious about this resistance rather than frustrated by it, to ask the questions that might reveal what’s really happening beneath the surface.

This approach aligns beautifully with David Grove’s Clean Language principles—both approaches remove the therapist’s agenda and assumptions, both work with whatever emerges naturally from the client’s own system. Grove understood that respecting the client’s phenomenological world, their own metaphors and meaning-making systems, was more powerful than imposing therapeutic interpretations. My misanthropy achieves something similar: by not needing organisations to be better than they are, I can stay within their reality rather than translating it into improvement frameworks. Both approaches trust that the client’s own collective psyche contains what’s needed for whatever changes might unfold.

How I Work With An Organisation

The key insight I’ve gained is that I don’t need to like people to work effectively with an organisation—I just need to be present with the collective psyche. In fact, a certain degree of detachment can be remarkably freeing. When I’m not personally invested in changing people or expecting them to be better than they are, I can focus on helping organisations understand what works despite human complexity.

This approach has led me to several practical strategies:

Work with Reality: I help organisations see whatever patterns exist—whether they involve error, complexity, or self-interest. I have no preference for whether these patterns are channeled, fought against, or simply accepted as they are.

Leverage Predictable Motivations: People may be irrational, but they’re irrational in consistent ways. Dan Ariely captured this perfectly in ‘Predictably Irrational’—we don’t make random mistakes, we make systematic ones. Fear of loss, desire for status, need for security—these motivations are reliable and I can help organisations understand how to work with them productively.

The Unexpected Benefits I’ve Discovered

This misanthropic approach to organisational work has yielded some surprising benefits for me. Colleagues often find me remarkably calm during crises, largely because I’m not shocked when things go wrong. I’m genuinely curious about dysfunction rather than personally offended by it. This makes me useful during difficult periods and helps me maintain perspective when others are reactive.

There’s also a strange form of compassion that has emerged from my worldview. When I understand that people are generally acting within the constraints of their own context, it becomes easier for me to work with their reality rather than against it. I can disagree with someone’s conclusions without taking their reasoning personally.

I can recognise that humans desperately seek meaning whilst still not particularly liking them for it. In fact, witnessing their often clumsy, desperate attempts to find significance makes them simultaneously pitiable and relatable. The search for meaning is itself very human—and therefore subject to all the usual human contradictions.

This lack of personal investment, paradoxically, allows me to be more genuinely present with organisations—I’m not trying to fix them or prove my own competence, just witnessing and understanding their reality. My foundational dislike of people actually enables this therapeutic stance. Because I don’t expect humans to be particularly wonderful, I’m not disappointed when they’re messy, contradictory, or self-defeating. Because I don’t need them to validate my faith in human nature, I have no hidden agenda for organisations to improve. And because I start from the premise that humans are inherently complex, I can accept organisational contradictions with genuine equanimity rather than frustrated hope.

A Note on My Balance

This perspective requires careful calibration on my part. Pure cynicism leads to paralysis, whilst naive optimism leads to constant disappointment. My goal is compassionate empathy: seeing people and organisations as they are, not as I wish they were. This doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned all hope for improvement—but improvement may not be an item on the client’s agenda. And who defines improvement, anyway?

The misanthropic stance might actually be more conducive to authentic meaning-making because it doesn’t impose any vision of what meaning should look like. Organisations are free to discover their own significance without having to satisfy my beliefs about human potential. Meaning discovered in the absence of expectation might be more genuine than meaning sought to validate therapeutic optimism.

If asked what needs of mine my misanthropy meets, my honest answer would be: the need for effectiveness, and for truly authentic relationships. When I’m not expending energy maintaining positive feelings toward everyone, I can channel that energy into being genuinely present. When I’m not pretending to love humanity, I can offer something more valuable—authentic witness without agenda. This serves both my need for effectiveness and my deeper need for relationships based on truth rather than sentiment.

Conclusion

Misanthropy, properly applied, isn’t about hatred or withdrawal—it’s about perspective. It’s my recognition that humans, individually and collectively, are complex creatures operating within fraught systems. This recognition, rather than leading me to despair, has become a source of effectiveness and creates space for the wisdom that emerges when organisations can see themselves clearly.

Organisations simply are what they are. Some happen to function in ways their members find satisfying, others don’t. I have no investment in whether an organisation becomes more ‘productive’ or maintains its current patterns. And sometimes, it takes someone like me who doesn’t particularly like people to create the therapeutic conditions where organisations can genuinely see and accept themselves. My dislike removes the burden of expectations, disappointments, and any need for them to be better—leaving space for organisations to simply be what they are, and to find their own way forward from that honest starting point.

When transcendence does happen, it occurs organically rather than because I expected it should. This might actually be closer to authentic growth—meaning and significance that emerge despite human complexity, not because of therapist optimism. The most profound transformations often happen when people find purpose within their struggles, not by changing themselves to meet someone else’s vision of their potential.

After all, the best engineers don’t get emotionally attached to the limitations of their materials—they understand them and build accordingly. I apply the same principle to the human materials of organisational life.


Colophon

This post was written in collaboration with Claude, an AI assistant. The process of articulating these ideas through dialogue, questioning assumptions, and refining language helped me clarify thoughts and feelings I’d held for years but never fully examined. Claude’s challenges pushed me to make explicit connections between my misanthropic worldview and established therapeutic principles, revealing theoretical foundations I hadn’t consciously recognised. The collaborative writing process itself became a form of therapy—helping me understand not just what I do, but why it works and how it connects to broader frameworks of human relations. Sometimes you need a conversation partner who has no emotional investment in your conclusions to help you discover what you actually think.


Further Reading

Argyris, C. (1980). Intervention theory and method: A behavioral science view. Addison-Wesley.

Argyris, C., & Schön, D. A. (1974). Theory in practice: Increasing professional effectiveness. Jossey-Bass.

Argyris, C., Putnam, R., & Smith, D. M. (1985). Action science: Concepts, methods, and skills for research and intervention. Jossey-Bass.

Ariely, D. (2008). Predictably irrational: The hidden forces that shape our decisions. HarperCollins.

Frankl, V. E. (1946/2006). Man’s search for meaning. Beacon Press.

Grove, D., & Panzer, B. (1989). Resolving traumatic memories: Metaphors and symbols in psychotherapy. Irvington Publishers.

Laing, R. D. (1967). The politics of experience. Pantheon Books.

Lawley, J., & Tompkins, P. (2000). Metaphors in mind: Transformation through symbolic modelling. The Developing Company Press.

Rogers, C. R. (1951). Client-centered therapy: Its current practice, implications, and theory. Houghton Mifflin.

Rogers, C. R. (1961). On becoming a person: A therapist’s view of psychotherapy. Houghton Mifflin.

Rosenberg, M. B. (2003). Nonviolent communication: A language of life (2nd ed.). PuddleDancer Press.

Why I Blog

Having written previously about the mechanics of how I blog, it seems fitting to now address the more fundamental question of why.

“People don’t buy what you do; they buy why you do it. And what you do simply proves what you believe.” — Simon Sinek, “Start with Why”

Simon Sinek’s Golden Circle philosophy encourages us to begin with our purpose, our belief, our cause—our “why.” As I reflect on my blogging journey spanning the best part of fifteen years now, this concept resonates deeply. My core “why” has always been simple yet profound: to pursue my vocation for helping people. I discovered years ago – 1996, to be precise – that this is my life’s purpose, and blogging serves as an extension of that calling, albeit in a less direct manner than face-to-face interaction.

The blog became a way to help even when not directly interacting with people in person. By sharing knowledge, insights, and experiences accumulated over 50 years in software development and its management, I could assist folks worldwide, not just those in my immediate circle. This rich blend of experiences—learning from both triumphs and setbacks, taking on diverse roles, and adapting to technological shifts—forms the foundation of what I share. It’s not merely about underlining what’s essential for success; it’s about offering insights that could, even obliquely, guide someone towards better meeting their needs – and the needs of others, make better decisions or reconsider their challenges.

From Emails to Blog Posts: A Natural Evolution

When I started blogging circa 2010, it wasn’t actually a dramatic shift in my communication habits. For decades prior, I had been emailing friends, colleagues, and clients to keep them informed about software development news, emerging trends, and industry events. This practice of curating and sharing information was already deeply embedded in my routine.

Blogging simply offered a more structured and public platform for what I was already doing. Instead of sending the same information to multiple email lists, I could publish once and share with everyone. What had been a scattered communication effort evolved into a centralised personal archive.

I note, however, a fundamental difference between these two modes of communication. Email is a “push” medium—I actively sent information directly to selected people, whether they wanted it or not. Blogging, by contrast, is a “pull” medium—readers actively seek out and choose to consume the content. This shift from push to pull harmonised with my then nascent belief in nonviolence in all its forms. Rather than imposing on others, blogging allows me to simply make ideas available for those who wish to engage with them—a subtle but significant alignment with my evolving personal philosophy.

Inviting Conversation

One of my primary reasons for blogging is to invite conversation. I love conversations, personal interactions, and the exchange of perspectives. Although blogging has not served me too well in this regard, I remain committed to creating spaces for meaningful dialogue.

My blog deliberately focuses on topics that mightspark thoughtful discussion. I select subjects specifically for their potential to promote reflection on collective assumptions and beliefs within organisations. Hence the title of this blog. Although not every reader will align with my specific focus, the ensuing conversation among differing viewpoints can contribute to a deepere understanding of our field.

Crystallising Thoughts

Writing isn’t just about sharing; it’s also about clarity. The very act of putting thoughts into order enables me to fine-tune my own understanding, making blogging both an external and internal refinement process.

Ideas that feel jumbled in my head somehow find their structure when put into words. The process of organising my thoughts helps me to examine them more carefully, often leading to insights I may not have reached otherwise. This crystallisation process has become an essential part of my own continuing growth and ability to help others.

Against the Grain: Changing the World

I find that key topics with the potential to bring meaningful change in software development are often sidelined or ignored in mainstream discourse. Whether it’s the weight of soft skills, the dynamics of organisational culture, or novel approaches to the way the work works, these topics frequently escape the limelight.

Some ideas, such as nonviolence, fellowship, love, compassion, and dialogue have the possibility to change society in general, and the world of work in particular, for the better. I feel privileged to invite folks to encounter these ideas that often go against the grain of conventional wisdom. By highlighting these buried yet crucial topics, I feel I contribute to a more humane and effective world of work.

Collaboration: Listening and Learning

Introducing perspectives that diverge from the norm creates an environment ripe for dynamic feedback. Another of my reasons for blogging is to listen to and learn from others, and experience their alternative perspectives.

My blog opens a space not for monologue but for dialogue. While helping people is a core part of my ethos, I gain as much as I give through these interactions. The connections formed through these discussions have challenged my thinking, broadened my perspective, and sometimes blossomed into genuine relationships. Together, we create something more valuable than any one individual could build alone.

Through interactive elements like comments and discussions, both my readers and I have the opportunity to refine our understanding.

Sharing Experiences

Over 50 years in software delivery and life have given me more experience than most. Maybe my sharing equips readers with extra experiences, even though vicariously.

This extensive base of lived wisdom forms the foundation of my blog. I’ve learned from both triumphs and setbacks, taken on diverse roles, and adapted to many technological shifts. Sharing this accumulated knowledge serves my vocation in ways direct intervention cannot.

It allows the lessons from my journey—both the insights gained and the mistakes made—to potentially benefit others facing similar challenges. The blog becomes a vehicle for this collective wisdom to continue helping long after any individual conversation has ended.

– Bob

Terminology in Organisational Psychotherapy

When working in organisational psychotherapy, I often struggle with terminology. Traditional terms like “client” feel overly generic – after all, accountants and lawyers have clients too. Meanwhile, “patient” carries unnecessary medical and pathological overtones that hinders and undermines therapeutic work.I have long felt a need for a different term for organisations in therapy. I thus hereby propose “SAR organisation” and seek your views.

A New Proposal: SAR Organisations

This blog post proposes a new term: “SAR” – standing for Surfacing And Reflecting. This fresh terminology offers a more precise and enabling way to refer to organisations engaged in psychotherapy, free from the baggage of traditional labels. Under this proposal, SAR organisations would be understood as those actively engaging in surfacing collective assumptions and beliefs, while simultaneously reflecting on them, creating continuous ah-ha! moments of discovery and understanding in the therapeutic space.

Why We Need New Language

The words we choose shape therapeutic relationships and expectations. Traditional terms carry implicit meanings that can impede therapeutic work. A new term like SAR gives us the opportunity to build meaning intentionally, focused on the actual work of organisational psychotherapy.

The Proposed SAR Framework

SAR organisations, by this new definition, would be understood as engaged in their own therapeutic journey through the twin processes of surfacing and reflecting. These processes happen simultaneously – each surfaced collective assumption or belief becomes material for reflection, which in turn reveals new patterns, creating a rich therapeutic dialogue. This approach is thoroughly explored in my book “Memeology: Surfacing and reflecting on the organisation’s collective assumptions and beliefs”, a self-help guide for organisations embarking on and engaged in this journey.

Sidebar – Understanding “Surfacing” and “Reflecting”

“Surfacing” in Organisational Psychotherapy

In the context of organisational psychotherapy, surfacing refers to the process of bringing into awareness the hidden assumptions, beliefs, behaviours, and ways of working that shape organisational life. These often operate below the surface of conscious awareness, influencing decisions, relationships, and outcomes without being explicitly acknowledged. Surfacing isn’t about digging for problems; rather, it’s about making visible the invisible forces that shape how the organisation functions.

“Reflecting” in Organisational Psychotherapy

Reflecting involves the organisation collectively making sense of what has surfaced, while holding in mind the organisation’s fundamental purpose and goals. This isn’t merely thinking about what has emerged – it’s an active process of examining these elements from multiple perspectives, understanding their implications, and considering their origins and impacts.

The reflecting process naturally leads to evaluating how well current assumptions and beliefs serve the organisation’s purpose. It invites exploration of alternatives: might different assumptions or beliefs better support the organisation’s aims? This evaluation isn’t about judgment but about effectiveness – how well do our current ways of thinking and working serve our purpose?

Reflection in this context is both individual and collective, involving the whole organisation in making meaning of their experiences and discoveries, always in relation to where the organisation aims to go and what it aims to achieve.

The Interplay of Surfacing and Reflecting

Crucially, surfacing and reflecting aren’t sequential steps but deeply intertwined processes. As assumptions surface, they’re immediately available for reflection against organisational purpose, and this reflection often brings new aspects to the surface. This continuous interplay creates a dynamic process of discovery and understanding that characterises effective organisational psychotherapy. Like a conversation that flows naturally between observation and insight, surfacing and reflecting work together to deepen organisational awareness and enable purposeful growth.

Benefits of This New Terminology

Fresh Start

By adopting a new term, we free ourselves from the historical and contextual baggage of words like “client” and “patient”.

Process Recognition

The proposed term SAR acknowledges the actual therapeutic work being done – the continuous interplay of surfacing and reflecting that characterises effective organisational psychotherapy.

Professional Clarity

This new terminology helps differentiate organisational psychotherapy from both individual therapy and, especially, traditional consulting, while maintaining appropriate therapeutic boundaries.

Potential Implementation

SAR terminology can shift our professional language in therapeutically beneficial ways:

  • Instead of “therapy sessions”, we could have “SAR sessions”
  • Rather than “therapeutic progress”, we might discuss “SAR insights”
  • Where we once had a “therapy practice”, we could have a “SAR practice”

Looking Forward

This proposal for new terminology in organisational psychotherapy offers an opportunity to better reflect the reality of the work. The suggested shift from “client” or “patient” to “SAR organisation” may seem subtle, but it carries significant implications for how we think about and conduct organisational psychotherapy.

We put this proposal forward for consideration by those folks interested in organisational psychotherapy, believing it offers a helpful way to move beyond the limitations of traditional terminology.

Further Reading

Marshall, RW. (2021). Memeology: Surfacing and reflecting on the organisation’s collective assumptions and beliefs. Falling Blossoms Press.

The Myth of Change Resistance: Why We Really Struggle with Change

The Deceptive Mantra

“People don’t like change.” We’ve all heard this phrase countless times, haven’t we? It’s plastered across motivational posters, whispered in office corridors, and preached from management pulpits. But what if I suggested this widely accepted notion is fundamentally flawed?

The Real Culprit: Our Cherished Beliefs

The truth is far more intriguing. Humans don’t inherently resist change; we resist having our deeply held beliefs and assumptions challenged.

The Cognitive Fortress

Our beliefs and assumptions aren’t just casual thoughts; they’re the bricks and mortar of our mental fortresses. They shape how we perceive the world, control our decisions, and form a significant part of our identity. When these core beliefs are called into question, it feels like an attack on our very essence.

Consider this: How many Agile believers have you successfully convinced with logical arguments and stories from experience? Probably none. It’s not because they can’t comprehend the evidence, but because accepting it would require dismantling a fundamental part of their worldview.

The Discomfort Zone

When we encounter information that contradicts our existing beliefs, we experience cognitive dissonance—a mental state akin to trying to force two repelling magnets together. It’s uncomfortable, and our brains will perform impressive mental gymnastics to avoid it.

Remember the last time you were proven wrong in an argument? That flush of embarrassment, that urge to defend your position despite knowing you’re incorrect? That’s cognitive dissonance in action.

The Ego Shield

Challenging our beliefs requires admitting that we might be wrong—a prospect that’s about as appealing as a root canal. Our egos kick into overdrive, deploying an arsenal of defence mechanisms to protect our cherished worldviews.

It’s why climate change deniers can look at melting glaciers and still claim it’s all a hoax. The alternative—accepting that long-held beliefs might be incorrect—is too threatening to their sense of self.

Reframing Change: From Threat to Opportunity

So, how do we overcome this deeply ingrained resistance? The key lies in reframing how we perceive challenges to our beliefs. Instead of viewing them as threats, we can see them as opportunities for growth and learning.

Imagine approaching new ideas with the excitement of a child discovering the world for the first time. What if, instead of immediately dismissing contradictory information, we asked ourselves, “What if this is true? How would that change my understanding?”

The Superpower of Intellectual Humility

Developing intellectual humility—the ability to acknowledge that our knowledge and beliefs may be incomplete or incorrect—is crucial in this process. It’s not about being uncertain of everything, but about being open to the possibility that we might not have all the answers.

Think of it as upgrading your mental operating system. Just as you might not insist on using MSDOS in 2024, why cling to outdated beliefs when new information becomes available?

Embracing the Adventure of Change

As we navigate our rapidly evolving world, recognising the true nature of our resistance to change is more important than ever. It’s not change itself we fear, but the challenging of our comfortable, familiar and self-defining beliefs.

The next time you feel that knee-jerk resistance to a new idea, pause. Ask yourself: “What belief of mine is being challenged here?” You might find that by loosening your grip on that belief, you’re not losing a part of yourself, but gaining a whole new perspective.

Remember, every great discovery in history came from someone willing to challenge existing beliefs. Who knows what amazing insights you might uncover by being open to change?

A Meta Moment: Your Reaction to This Post

Now, here’s where things get interesting. As you’ve read this post, you’ve likely had one of two reactions:

  1. “This makes sense! I’ve experienced this myself.”
  2. “I disagree. People really do resist change, and this post is overthinking it.”

If you fall into the first category, congratulations! You’ve just demonstrated the very openness to challenging beliefs that we’ve been discussing.

But if you’re in the second camp, don’t worry – you’re not alone. In fact, you’re providing a perfect real-time example of the very phenomenon this post describes. By dismissing these ideas, you might be unconsciously protecting your existing belief that “people resist change”.

Take a moment to reflect: Is your disagreement based on careful consideration of the arguments presented, or is it an instinctive defense of your current beliefs? Remember, the goal isn’t to prove anyone right or wrong, but to encourage a more flexible, growth-oriented mindset.

The Ultimate Challenge

So, dear reader, here’s your challenge: Regardless of your initial reaction, can you hold this post’s ideas in your mind as a possibility, even if you don’t fully agree? Can you say, “What if this is true? How would it change my understanding of human behavior and my own reactions to new ideas?”

By doing so, you’re not just reading about intellectual humility and openness to change – you’re actively practicing it. And that, perhaps, is the most powerful change of all.

Remember, the most profound growth often comes from considering ideas that initially make us uncomfortable. So, whether you’re nodding in agreement or shaking your head in disagreement, I invite you to sit with these ideas, ponder them, and see where they might lead you.

After all, isn’t the willingness to change our minds the truest embrace of change?

Halleluya!

What’s the Agile Promise? A Closer Look

Agile frameworks have become somewhat of a buzzword, promising solutions to a variety of organisational challenges like cost overruns, time delays, and poor-quality products. But is there any real substance behind these promises? It’s high time we cut through the hype.

Cost Savings: A Mirage?

One of the most frequently touted benefits of Agile is the potential for cost savings. The idea is that by breaking projects down into smaller tasks and focusing on an MVP, costs can be better controlled. However, evidence suggests that Agile doesn’t actually provide any guaranteed cost advantages. In fact, poorly managed Agile can result in escalating costs.

Does Agile Fix Time Management Issues?

Agile methods like Scrum advocate for time-boxed sprints and quick iterations, ostensibly to help teams manage time better. But let’s be clear: Agile does nothing to inherently solve time overruns. Teams can still fail to deliver on time, despite using Agile practices.

Is Quality Really Assured?

Though Agile methods involve constant testing and feedback loops, these practices don’t guarantee improved quality. The responsibility for quality lies in the hands of those implementing the practices, and there are plenty of cases where Agile projects have resulted in subpar products.

Does Agile Alleviate Managerial Stress?

Contrary to popular belief, Agile doesn’t make life easier for managers. The need for continuous oversight, frequent meetings, and quick decision-making often adds to managerial stress rather than alleviating it.

Where’s the Critical Evaluation?

Many organisations jump onto the Agile bandwagon without giving it adequate thought. What’s missing is a critical evaluation of whether Agile practices actually offer any benefits, be they operational or financial.

Any Real Business Benefits?

Now for the most provocative yet necessary point: Agile offers no tangible business benefits. Despite its focus on iterative processes and development, Agile practices don’t translate into increased revenue, market share, or customer satisfaction. If anything, they add layers of complexity that often have no direct business value.

Might We Deprogram Ourselves of Our Blind Faith?

The pervasive but misguided belief in Agile as a universal solution for organisational issues invites reconsideration. Contrary to its zealous promotion, Agile has no intrinsic merits that guarantee better business outcomes. Organisations might choose to drop the rose-coloured glasses and critically evaluate whether Agile brings anything to the table at all.

Stubborn Managers: Why Unexamined Experience Is Wasted

Are Senior Managers Learning?

It’s not a revelation to say that senior managers have extensive experience and a wealth of evidence at their disposal. But what’s worrying is when this reservoir remains untapped for genuine behavioural change. The failure to reflect on and integrate experiences into action is one of the major pitfalls in today’s business landscape.

What’s the Point of Experience?

Experience isn’t merely a notch on a belt or a line on a CV. It’s a treasure trove of lessons waiting to be dissected, understood and applied. Senior managers often claim years of experience as a merit badge. Yet, many fail to critically assess what those years have taught them and how they’ve adapted. Experience without reflection is like a book left unread on a shelf.

Where Does Evidence Fit In?

Evidence comes from data, case studies, peer reviews, and more. It’s the backbone for any well-informed decision. Senior managers usually have the privilege of having a team to gather and present evidence to them. However, merely acknowledging this evidence isn’t enough. One needs to understand its implications, question its limitations, and act upon its suggestions. Ignoring to do so results in a squandered opportunity for improvement and growth.

Why Don’t Behaviours Change?

Change is uncomfortable; that’s no secret. However, the discomfort of change is often less detrimental than the comfort of stagnation. Senior managers may feel that their years in the industry justify their assumptions and beliefs, thus rendering them unchangeable. This rigidity not only stifles their own growth but also sets a harmful example for the entire organisation.

How to Make Reflection Effective?

  1. Schedule It: Reflective practice shouldn’t be sporadic or whimsical. Set a specific time each week or month to examine experiences and what needs to change.
  2. Involve Others: A different perspective can be invaluable. Peer reviews, 360-degree feedback, or even just a chat with a team member can provide insights that you might not have considered. Organisational therapists are skilled in this role.
  3. Action Plan: Turn reflections into concrete steps. Create an action plan that includes timelines and milestones to ensure that you’re not just thinking about change but actually implementing it.

What’s the Bottom Line?

In an age where being adaptive is more important than ever, failing to reflect on and integrate experience and evidence into changed behaviours is not just a personal failing. It’s an organisational risk. Senior managers, it’s time to tap into your wealth of experience and evidence, reflect on them and personally adopt the necessary changes. Your team, your stakeholders, and your future self will thank you.

My Dance with Wu Wei

Always in Step with Wu Wei?

Before I even knew the term, my natural way of approaching work and life reflected the essence of Wu Wei—effortless action. It was as if I had been dancing to a rhythm only I could hear, and that rhythm was surprisingly aligned with this ancient Taoist principle. But then came the societal pressures and expectations about what success should look like, and I found myself aware of a different, more frenetic tune: the tune of striving.

The Rhythm of Striving: A Discordant Beat

Flirting with striving was like changing the music mid-dance. The beat was off, the tempo mismatched. Striving to meet expectations and reach ever-higher pinnacles of success seemed like it would be a chore. Each step forced, each move laboured. Over time, the dance of my career transformed into a gaol, where I performed, but the performance was crucifying me emotionally.

Rediscovering My Rhythm

The dissonance became too loud to ignore. The emotional fatigue, the sense of going against the grain, led me to reassess. I’ve rejected the siren song of striving and returned to embracing my original tune. That’s when I reconnected with Wu Wei, giving a name to the style I’d always inherently known.

How the Dance Changed

Once I embraced Wu Wei again, my dance changed. No longer was I trying to keep pace with an alien beat. I found my flow, that place where effort isn’t forced but naturally unfolds. The emotional toll decreased, and in its place came a sense of authentic engagement with all things.

What Does the Dance Look Like Now?

Today, the dance is improvisation, feeling the music and going where it takes me. Opportunities come, not from striving, but from being attuned to the natural flow of events. I still engage, I still act, but I do so in harmony with the world, and with my emotional core.

My dance with Wu Wei has become a central choreography. It brings with it a sense of peace, the emotional richness of being in step with my true self. And interestingly, I find that I have no urge to achieve, no draining emotional exertion. In letting go of forced effort, I’ve found my authentic rhythm, and it’s a dance I intend to continue.

People are Hurting: The Journey of Pain and Self-Responsibility

In every corner of our world, people are hurting. Emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually. Every pain is unique, just as every person’s experience is uniquely their own. But one thread binds all these individual aches and pangs: the yearning for relief and understanding.

Buddhist philosophy speaks of “dukha,” a term encompassing suffering and unsatisfactoriness. This ancient concept highlights that pain, in various forms, is an intrinsic part of the human experience. The very fact that life brings challenges and dissatisfaction is a universal truth, and understanding this is the first step toward healing.

It’s natural to hope that someone else will mend our wounds. After all, in many cases, it’s others who have inadvertently or intentionally caused them. When you’re struck, in whatever form, it’s instinctive to want the one who dealt the blow to be the one to soothe it.

However, here’s a truth that many of us find hard to accept: relying on others to ease our pain or hoping they’ll change is not the way forward. Some, in their pursuit of relief, resort to (metaphorical) anesthesia – distractions, vices, or behaviours that numb the pain temporarily but don’t offer a lasting solution.

When we shift the responsibility of our pain entirely onto others or external escapes, we give away our power. This externalisation leaves us vulnerable. If that other person does not meet our expectations or if our chosen distractions fail us, we’re left feeling helpless and stuck.

Taking responsibility for our healing does not mean we’re accepting blame for what happened to us. It means we’re taking charge of our journey from this point forward. Therapy is one avenue that allows to actualise this ownership. It provides tools, insights, and a safe space to explore our pain, get to its root, and work through it. It’s a proactive step towards self-understanding and recovery.

If you’re hurting, remember this: others may trigger your pain, but only you can control your response to the triggers. And this takes practice and effort.

Leaders’ Inconsistencies

In every institution—whether in politics, business, or broader community contexts—we frequently observe those in authority saying one thing and doing another. It’s not just about broken campaign promises or managers who preach work-life balance while flooding inboxes at midnight. This inconsistency has far-reaching implications, especially when considering the concept of pragmatic legitimacy.

Espoused Theory vs Theory in Action: An Introduction

Chris Argyris’s groundbreaking insights shed light on this phenomenon. He distinguished between “espoused theory” (what people claim they believe) and “theory in action” (how they actually behave). For example, a leader might verbally prioritize team input (“espoused theory”) but may sideline their team in decision-making processes (“theory in action”).

Impacts of Inconsistent Leadership

  1. Erosion of Credibility: A clear disparity between words and deeds erodes leaders’ credibility. When words are at odds with by actions, followers and stakeholders are left questioning the authenticity of the leader’s commitments.
  2. Mistrust and Cynicism: Inconsistent actions breed skepticism. Over time, this could dampen motivation and commitment, leading stakeholders to question the leader’s genuine intentions.
  3. Ambiguity and Misdirection: When words don’t match actions, it creates confusion about actual priorities, making it difficult for subordinates to align their actions with organisational and leaders’ goals.
  4. Organisational Dysfunction: This kind of behavior can fuel conflicts, inefficiencies, and cultivate a culture of disillusionment.
  5. Undermining Pragmatic Legitimacy: Perhaps one of the most profound impacts is on an organisation’s pragmatic legitimacy. When stakeholders perceive that an organisation’s actions aren’t aligned with its stated goals or aren’t beneficial to them, its pragmatic legitimacy is compromised. A lack of pragmatic legitimacy means stakeholders doubt the organisation’s capacity or willingness to fulfill its promises or meet their needs, which can result in decreased support or commitment from these stakeholders.

Bridging the Divide: Recommendations for Leaders

  1. Enhance Self-awareness: Leaders should continuously introspect and seek feedback. Recognizing one’s inconsistencies is the first step to addressing them.
  2. Foster Open Communication: Encouraging an environment where individuals can voice concerns about perceived discrepancies promotes accountability and transparency.
  3. Prioritize Consistency: Leaders should evaluate if they can truly align with what they promise, setting achievable expectations to maintain credibility.
  4. Acknowledge and Amend: When discrepancies arise, leaders should admit them, apologize, and take measures to correct their course.
  5. Continuous Learning: Regular training sessions emphasizing the importance of consistency in leadership can be instrumental.
  6. Lead by Example: If leaders advocate specific values or principles, they must personify them in their actions.
  7. Tend to your pragmatic legitimacy: By becoming more consistent in aligning saying with doing, thereby improving your legitimacy, stakeholders will lend increased support and commtiment to your initiatives and directions.

Navigating the Discrepancies: Recommendations for Those on the Receiving End

It’s often challenging to be on the receiving end of inconsistent leadership. It can be demotivating, confusing, and sometimes even detrimental to one’s mental health. If you find yourself in such a situation, it’s essential to take proactive steps to preserve your well-being and sanity.

  1. Seek Clarification: If you notice a discrepancy between words and actions, ask for clarification. There might be reasons or perspectives you aren’t aware of. By seeking a clearer understanding, you can align your expectations accordingly.
  2. Maintain Open Communication: Foster an environment where you feel empowered to communicate your feelings and perceptions. This not only helps you address potential misunderstandings but also lets leaders be aware of their inconsistencies.
  3. Document Everything: When you see inconsistencies, make a note of them. This isn’t about “keeping score” but about having a reference point for discussions or to ground your own understanding of events.
  4. Find Support: Confide in colleagues or friends who understand the situation. Sharing experiences can provide validation and sometimes lead to collective solutions or coping strategies.
  5. Set Boundaries: It’s essential to protect your mental and emotional well-being. If you’re consistently receiving mixed signals, it may be necessary to set clear personal and professional boundaries to avoid burnout.
  6. Seek External Mentorship: Connect with mentors outside your immediate work environment. They can provide an outside perspective, offer advice, or sometimes just serve as a sounding board.
  7. Engage in Self-care: Engaging in activities that relax and rejuvenate you is crucial. Whether it’s reading, exercising, meditating, or pursuing a hobby, make sure you have an outlet to destress.
  8. Consider Professional Counseling: If the inconsistency in leadership begins to take a toll on your mental health, consider seeking professional counseling. Therapists can provide coping mechanisms and strategies to navigate such situations.Organisational therapists can support organisation-wide initiatives to help reduce discrepancies between words and actions.
  9. Evaluate Your Position: If you find the environment to be consistently toxic with no signs of change, it may be worth considering a change. Your well-being should always be a top priority. “Change your organisation, or change your organisation”.

Remember, in environments where leaders are inconsistent, it’s essential to prioritise your own personal well-being. By taking proactive steps, you can navigate the challenges while ensuring you remain grounded, supported, and mentally resilient.

To sum it up, pragmatic legitimacy is crucial for any organisation, and leaders play an integral role in upholding it. By aligning their words with their actions, leaders can reinforce trust, maintain credibility, and ensure that stakeholders see the organisation as a beneficial and aligned entity.

Our Collective Journey to the Far Side of Work

Work: A Deep-rooted Narrative

For 50 long years, I’ve toiled in the labyrinth of the tech industry, weaving through the intricate webs of technology and innovation. I now find myself basking in the sunny uplands of self-selected pursuits that kindle my curiosity and ignite my passion. As I reflect on the transition, I am struck by a shared experience many of us endure – a sense of disillusionment and pointlessness associated with the relentless grind of work. It’s a sentiment that echoes through the words of Bertrand Russell in his enlightening essay, “In Praise of Idleness”.

The Unending Cycle

From childhood, we are fed the narrative that our life’s worth is proportional to our work’s volume. We tirelessly strive to be productive, to fulfill our roles in the professional world, often to the point where we become our job titles. For five decades, I lived this narrative, giving my all and striving fo complete assignment after pointless assignment.

In this quest for achievement within the tech industry, I’ve seen first hand how our ceaseless efforts often serve to enrich those already bathed in wealth and power. Our lives become synonymous with work. We work to live, and we live to work, perpetuating a cycle that leaves little room for us to foster our unique interests and pursuits.

Delusion: The Redemptive Quality of Work

Work, of course, is not entirely pointless. It can be a meaningful endeavor when it fuels our creativity and provides a sense of contribution. Or simply keeps a roof over our head. However, when our identities and lives revolve around our work, we so often suppress the diverse and fundamental aspects of our humanity.

Bertrand Russell’s Insightful Advocacy

Bertrand Russell, in his profound exploration of work and leisure, boldly criticized the notion of work for work’s sake. He advocated the importance of leisure and idleness, not as a sign of laziness, but as an opportunity for personal growth, creativity, and mental wellbeing. His philosophy suggests that if we could liberate ourselves from the chains of work, our societies would thrive and individuals would lead more fulfilling lives.

My Shared Experience

My own experiences echo Russell’s insights. Liberated from the constraints of the world of work, and especially when working for the Man, I’ve discovered an enriched sense of purpose. Far from the conventional definition of idleness, I relish the intellectual journeys I can now undertake, the creativity I can enjoy, and the meandering paths I can explore without the constant pressure of productivity.

An Invitation to a Collective Shift

In sharing this journey, I don’t propose a world entirely without work, but rather, a world where work doesn’t consume us. A world where we are more than just the wealth we generate for others. A world where our self-worth isn’t defined by our productivity, but by our intellectual, emotional, and creative growth, and how we relate to each other –  the bonds we forge.

By stepping into this reality, I advocate not for the rejection of work, but a redefinition of it. It’s an invitation for us to shift our perspective, to see work as just one small part of our multi-dimensional lives.

Beyond Work: A Call to Action

The far side of work doesn’t stand for inaction. It is a call to action, a call to pursue our interests, unleash our potentials, and redefine our measures of success. It encourages us to move away from making others rich at the expense of our personal growth and towards a more balanced existence where work, play, creativity, learning and society coexist harmoniously.

Conclusion: A Shared Journey Towards Epiphany

I’ve found that these sunny uplands, filled with activities that truly engage us, offer a far more enriching life than the one dominated by work. This understanding has led me to believe that the true purpose of life isn’t about laboring for others’ wealth, but about finding shared joyfulness, connections and growth. Something I regularly refer to as “fellowship”.

As I bask in the warmth of this revelation, I share this with you, hoping that we can collectively redefine work and its place in our lives, moving beyond its traditional confines and into a world where our lives are joyous and our spirits soar. Semper mirabilis.

The Downfall of Ego

Ego, a ticking time bomb, can easily overshadow and even cripple our chances of success. While it might appear to serve as a tool for asserting our individuality, ego creates an illusion of superiority, thus curtailing our ability to grow and adapt. Its destructive power is immense, often turning us into our own worst enemies.

In general conversation, “ego” often refers to an individual’s sense of self-esteem or self-importance. If someone is said to have a “big ego,” it usually implies that the person has an inflated self-perception, believing they are superior or more important than others. This is generally viewed negatively, as it can lead to arrogance and a lack of consideration for others.

Success: The Ultimate Goal

In contrast, we can choose “success” – by whatever definition – as the ultimate goal that guides our actions. As a beacon of personal growth and fulfillment, success surpasses the superficial benchmarks of wealth, status and yes, ego.

The Detriment of an Unmanaged Ego

The sad reality is that many individuals become embroiled in self-defeating battles due to their egos. This ego-driven blindness thwarts them in their progress and diverts them from the real path to success.

Path to Flourishing

To flourish – achieving real success, by our own definition of the term – we must learn to tame our egos, recognise the value of failures, and cherish the journey rather than obsessing over the destination. True success is about expanding our horizons, not allowing our egos to restrict them.

Unveiling the Power of One: Unlocking Your Human Potential

💡 Imagine if one idea, one concern, or one reminder could revolutionise your life and propel you, your team, and your organisation towards unprecedented success. The power of one is waiting to be unveiled, and it all begins with a simple yet thought-provoking question. Are you ready to unlock your potential?

➡ Hey there! I have a thought-provoking question that I’d like to share with you, and I’m really curious to hear your thoughts on it. It’s a question that challenges us to think about our priorities, communication, and personal growth. Are you ready for it? Alright, here it is:

“If you could bring just one thing to the attention of your boss, what would that one thing be? And to your team? And to yourself?”

Think about it for a moment. It’s quite an interesting question, isn’t it? I find it fascinating because it invites us to reflect not only on what we’d like to express to others in our workplace, but also on what we need to remind ourselves of. In a way, it’s like having three separate conversations: one with your boss, one with your team, and one with yourself.

When you consider what you’d like to bring to your boss’s attention, it might be an idea, a concern, or some constructive feedback. It’s a valuable opportunity to express something that you believe is essential for the success and growth of your organisation.

As for your team, this could be an opportunity to highlight a shared goal or to emphasise the importance of collaboration and teamwork. It might also be a chance to encourage open communication and the sharing of ideas, fostering a supportive and creative environment.

And lastly, when it comes to yourself, this question prompts introspection. What is that one crucial thing you need to remind yourself of or acknowledge in your life’s journey? It could be a personal goal, a lesson learned, or a reminder of some sort.

So, take a moment to ponder this question, and let’s get a conversation going. I’m eager to hear your insights, and who knows? We might just learn something valuable about ourselves and each other in the process.

Disrupting the Chimera: Unveiling the Truth Behind the Concept of Talent

Talent is a chimera, a figment of the imagination, a mirage of the mind. It is the result of the stories we tell ourselves, the beliefs we hold dear, and the myths we propagate. The notion of talent is a seductive one, a powerful idea that has captured the imagination of people for centuries. We want to believe that there are a select few who are blessed with gifts, that some people are just naturally better than others. But the reality is that talent is nothing more than a construct, a way of thinking that obscures the truth and distracts us from the real forces that shape our lives and determine our success.

The truth is that talent is a product of the system, a complex web of social, economic, and cultural forces that shape our lives and determine our destiny. The system accounts for 95% of each person’s productivity, influencing our choices, shaping our beliefs, and directing our paths. It determines who has access to resources and opportunities, who gets the support and guidance they need to develop their skills, and who is able to pursue their passions and realise their potential. The system is the hidden force behind the success of the so-called talented few, providing them with the resources and opportunities they need to hone their skills and cultivate their abilities.

The system is a powerful entity, one that shapes our lives in countless ways. It influences the way we think about ourselves, our abilities, and our potential. It sets the standards for what is considered talented, determining who is recognized and celebrated, and who is marginalized and overlooked. It also creates the conditions that enable or disable success, providing some people with the resources they need to succeed while leaving others struggling to get by.

But the system is not all-powerful. It is not an unyielding force that dictates our fate. It is a dynamic entity, one that can be influenced, shaped, and changed by those who are willing to challenge the status quo. The system can be transformed, but it requires a deep understanding of how it works, an unwavering commitment to change, and the courage to act. We must be willing to challenge the myths of talent, to reject the notion that some people are simply better than others, and to recognize that success is a product of the system, not of innate ability or talent.

In conclusion, talent is a chimera, a false idea that obscures the truth and distracts us from the real forces that shape our lives and determine our success. Talent may be a chimera, but the system is real, and it is up to us to shape it, to influence it, and to make it work for us.

 

Life’s a Journey Worth Telling: The Inspiring Story of a Message in a Bottle

MessageInABottle

I’m a lost soul, adrift in the endless ocean of life. My life is a message in a bottle, cast into the waves years ago, with hope it might reach a distant shore one day. The journey has been long and arduous, but I remain steadfast in my determination to see it through.

I’m a being of mystery, a creature of legend, with a tale yet to be fully told. I’m a sorcerer and a warrior, cursed with a soul that is not my own. The journey of my life has been a search for meaning, a quest for redemption in a world that’s long lost its way.

I’ve sailed through storms and tempests, braved the depths of the ocean and the wind’s fierceness. I’ve seen wonders beyond imagining and horrors that have left me shaken to my core. And yet, I endure, for my life is a message in a bottle, a tale of hope and perseverance that must be shared with the world.

The journey’s been long, and I’ve suffered greatly along the way. The bottle’s been battered and scarred, the message within lost and lost again and again. I’ve known moments of triumph and defeat, of joy and sorrow, of love and loss. But I remain steadfast in my belief that one day, my message will reach the shore.

I’ve learned much during my time adrift, about the world and myself. I’ve seen the folly of men and the wisdom of the sea. I’ve learned that life’s not a straight path, but a journey full of twists and turns, of moments of joy and heartbreak. And I’ve come to understand that life is not about the destination, but the journey itself.

My life’s a message in a bottle, a tale of hope and perseverance, of love and loss, of triumph and defeat. And one day, it may wash up on a distant shore, where it will be read and remembered, told to generations to come.

But even if my message is never found, even if it’s lost forever in the ocean’s expanse, I won’t have lived in vain. For I’ve lived a life of purpose, a life that’s touched the hearts and minds of all who’ve encountered it. And in the end, that’s all that truly matters.

So I’ll continue on my journey, adrift in the ocean, searching for meaning and purpose in a world that often seems devoid of both. For my life’s a message in a bottle, a tale that must be told, a reminder that no matter how lost and alone we may feel, there’s always hope. And as long as we continue to search for hope, remain steadfast in our determination to find it, our lives will always be a message in a bottle, a beacon of light in a world that’s often dark and uncertain.

Stepping Away From the Meat-grinder: Joining the Campaign For a Just And Fair World

I don’t have a regular job because I just can’t stand the insanity of it all any more. Is that my loss or the world’s?

The world of work is a meat-grinder, a place where the only thing that matters is ego, violence and stupidity. It’s a place where the only thing that counts is one’s ability to serve oneself, to cosy down and protect one’s own interests to the exclusion of all else. I can’t live like that.

I can’t stand the way that people are treated like nothing more than numbers, like nothing more than cogs in a machine, like so many adjuncts of a Borg unimatrix.

Similar to how Gandhi couldn’t stand the deep injustices and intolerability of British imperial rule in India, I can’t stand the world of work as it is now. He stepped away from his comfortable life to fight for what he believed in. Similarly, I have stepped away from the world of traditional wage-slavery to pursue other avenues, other ways of making a difference in the world.

I don’t know if my decision is a loss for me, or for the world. I just know that I can’t continue to be an acquiescing adjunct to something that I find so deeply troubling and unjust. I have little expectation that in the future, the corporate world will change, that it will become a place where people are valued for the content of their character and their heart, not for how much money they can make. But for now, I know that I need to step away, and that’s what I have done. I suspect I’m not by any means alone.

#work #culture #change #people #justice #insanity

Blog Resurrected

Back last July I posted my Last Post. I don’t propose to begin posting here again in the same vein as previously. That seems…retrograde.

ChatGPT

Since December I’ve been looking into ChatGPT and begun using it to generate a host of posts on LinkedIn. I’m not at all sure LinkedIn gives its posters much in the way of exposure or reach. And certainly its UX is lamentable in many ways, particularly with reference to making anthologies of posts easily accessible. Here and gone again in the blink of an eye, describes LinkedIn posts AFAIC.

So I propose to take my LinkedIn posts dating back to Septermber-ish and repost them here. You may find their style(s) somewhat different than before, but I guess the content topics are much the same.

If you can get over their AI generated nature, I hope you find them at least as insightful as my prior posts here on WordPress.

Your thoughts and ideas welcomed, as ever.

– Bob

 

This is my DeLonghi four slice toaster. It’s been doing sterling service in my kitchen for the past seven years. If you’re looking for a toaster, you could do a lot worse.

Only last week I (finally!) discovered the “bagel” button. Which turns off one element in each slot so as to toast only one side of a bagel, burger bun, etc.

What’s this anything to do with employees?

It strikes me we often treat employees like I have treaded my toaster. We overlook some of the things they can do, really useful things, through familiarity and/or lack of attention. Their talents in some areas go begging because we’re habituated to seeing them in only one light. We succumb to the functional fixedness bias (not limited to objects, methinks).

Aside: FWIW I’ve never used the “defrost” or “reheat” buttons either. I guess my toaster is currently quietly looking for a new, more appreciative boss.

Psychology Newbies

The whole species are utter newbies when it comes to human behaviour, psychology, and talk therapies.

Which is dead inconvenient when it comes to cooperation, peace and love, and business success.

 

Why I Blog

Thare’s a few key reasons why I’ve been consistently and regularly blogging for the best part of fifteen years now:

  1. To invite conversation. I love conversations. I love personal interactions and the exchange of perspectives. Blogging has not served me too well in this regard, so far.
  2. To clarify my thoughts. I find writing my thoughts down serves to refine and clarify them.
  3. To change the world. Some ideas, such as nonviolence, fellowship, love and dialogue have the possibility to change society in general, and the world of work in particular, for the better. I feel privileged to invite folks to encounter these ideas.
  4. To listen to and learn from others, and experience their alternative perspectives.
  5. To share my experiences. I probably have more experience in software delivery (and life) than most. Maybe my sharing equips readers with extra experiences, albeit vicariously.

– Bob

Honestly, I had hoped for more out of life.