Every now and then I write something that I know as the words drift down into my sentences will upset some readers and motivate a few to unsubscribe. Some of these miffed readers have been around for a while, so I must believe that they once thought my blog had value to them. But one transgression against some deep belief and they zap me out of their computer life.
And that’s OK. People are certainly entitled to express their differences with a writer by refusing to let him or her into their minds. But I wonder about the workings of those minds. Have my words come into their consciousness as an untenable threat? How much anger might I have aroused? Or contempt?
History is rich in examples of people of great learning who have refused to embrace an idea that contradicts beliefs already in place despite new evidence indicating their existing beliefs are invalid. The Church’s rejection of Galileo’s ideas about solar centricity is among the most famous.
More recently, scientists refused to believe Jane Goodall’s claims that chimpanzees made and used tools, even though she had documented the practice through photography. Geologists resisted the idea that earth had but one continent eons ago and many astrophysicists reflexively pooh-poohed black holes and the Big Bang.
Belief follows need. We all know people who believe something to be true that empirical research has shown otherwise.
Even that great man of E=MC2 fame rejected a fundamental premise of quantum mechanics – its probabilities structure of all matter and energy in contrast to Newton’s deterministic structure of the universe. Albert Einstein solemnly declared, “God doesn’t play dice with the universe.
Why do we cling to beliefs that empirical research has totally undermined?
My youngest daughter Stephanie sang a song to me yesterday that offers an answer in metaphor. The song is about an unraveling love affair in which the singer dolefully tells her errant lover. “If you want to destroy my sweater, hold this thread as I walk away.”
The Church bitterly rejected the Galilean idea that the sun owned the center of our slice of the universe. Church cognoscenti knew that idea undercut their teaching that man dwelled at the center of the Cosmos.
The Church’s hegemony over science unraveled like a sweater disappearing as a single strand is pulled away from its body. The Church’s claim to absolute power over the masses dissolved. The idea of absolute power in human affairs became an anathema. As the unraveling of papal authority continued, the erosion of autocratic authority continued into the secular realm. The doctrine of the divine right of kings evaporated, making possible the rise of modern democracy.
Those were times when almost everything people thought they knew was wrong. Right in their grandfather’s day, but wrong in their lifetimes.
We live in similar times today. As happen half a millennium ago, these times challenge us to submit almost every secular belief we have to reexamination to determine if they still hold.
Take my field, marketing. Many of the rules great marketing minds played by in the last century have become obsolete. For example, who would have imagined even a dozen years ago that consumers would displace advertising as the primary source of product information?
These are not times when we should reflexively reject ideas others present to us simply because they contradict what we already believe.
I suspect that the few readers who unsubscribed in the past 24 hours did so in response to my statement in reviewing The Starfish and the Spider, “While the book is anything but political, it contains a persuasive argument why the war on terrorism cannot be won through armed conflict, nor for that matter, the war in Iraq.”
The Starfish and the Spider discusses a new concept in organizational theory that we found was subscribed to in various measure by companies presented as exemplars of a new way to organize and operate business enterprises. Unfortunately, terrorist groups around the globe have discovered the awesome effectiveness of this new way – a way that does not depend on centralized leadership.
One of Whole Foods’ reasons for extraordinary success is the distribution of authority to an unprecedented degree in the grocery category. Each store is its own experiment, as one executive observed. Local managers are free to make many decisions they believe best for their locale.
New Jersey-based Commerce Bank operates in a similar fashion. One executive told me, “At Commerce, there’s a saying, ‘you ask for forgiveness not permission.’”
Hierarchical command-and-control management with layers of power holders is OUT. Flat, networked organizations with distributed power are IN.
But tell that to dozens of other CEOs around the country. Many can’t see their company’s operation in any other way than through the antiquated lens of hierarchically organized command-and-control management. For them, there is no other way. And by golly it’s still the right way.
Not.
It's not easy putting to new tests much of what you once held to be universal truth. But organizational survival will increasisngly depend on doing so.
In praising The Starfish and the Spider, Paul Saffo, Director of the Institute for the Future said, "The Starfish and the Spider lifts the lid on a massive revolution in the making, a revolution certain to reshape every organization on the planet from bridge clubs to global governments.
Talk about challenging long-standing beliefs, Saffo has done it in spades. Don't argue with his statement. Probe it for its possibile veracity. And if you then deem his statement true, then start reorgnaizing your life and your groups accordingly.