Uh… probably that ‘The Plan’ is that there isn’t one? In fact that’s the whole point?

(Or, if you simply must have a plan, I could paraphrase a former colleague and say that the plan is to not have a specific plan.)

Why? Simple reason, really: the purpose of a plan is to control something. And since ‘control’ is itself little more than a rather forlorn myth – especially in this kind of context – then it really doesn’t make sense to have a plan, because ‘control’ doesn’t make sense either.

I do have a sense of the direction I’m headed, though. Call that ‘a plan’, if you like. Sort-of.

It’s still enterprise-architecture. But a much bigger view of enterprise-architecture than you’d normally see associated with that term.

[As an aside, one of the joys of this shift is that I won't have to waste any more time arguing with the IT-obsessed and, now, the business-obsessed, about their misuse of the term 'enterprise-architecture'. I know it's wrong, they know it's wrong, everyone knows it's wrong, and just about everyone knows the damage that that term-hijack is causing, too. But hey, if they really need to keep on 'pissin' in the pool', best to just leave 'em to it, I guess. At least when you come here, you do know that when I talk about 'enterprise architecture', I do mean 'enterprise', and 'architecture', and the way they fit together - and not some piddling point about how two IT-boxes talk to each other. Unless we do need to talk about that. Which we do sometimes, of course. ]

What I’m really aiming at is the architecture of the biggest enterprise we have: the human enterprise. All of it. Which takes place within a broader ecosystem, usually referred to as ‘this planet’ or suchlike. Which is, yes, kinda big…

[In Twitter and elsewhere I'll use the hashtag #rbpea to indicate this type of 'Really-Big-Picture Enterprise-Architecture'.]

Why? It’s because I can see there are some big, big, BIG architecture-type questions that just about no-one else seems to have addressed so far, if at all. Or even noticed, in most cases. Kind of ‘oops…’, if you like. A very big ‘oops…’.

Which means that someone needs to be doing something about that ‘very big oops…’. And I look around, and I can’t see anyone else doing it, or putting their hand up to do it. Which, uh, kinda suggests that it’s my turn to do something about it. Yikes… Yeah, kinda challenging, coming face to face with that…

It doesn’t mean I’ll necessarily be much good at it: others would probably be a lot better for this than I am, no doubt about that. But it’s clear that someone needs to hold the fort for now: and right now that ‘someone’ seems to be me. Oh well…

I certainly don’t claim to have ‘the Answers’; at the moment I’d barely claim to have more than a few good questions. But at least it’s something. And I do have some relevant skills and experience, so in that sense I do have some ’response-ability’ here. Hence, in that sense, my responsibility.

So that’s the ‘plan’, really: be responsible. See what I see, hear what I hear, feel what I feel, and then literally ‘be response-able’ about that. Be like Wangari Maathai’s hummingbird – or perhaps, in my case, more like a weary, wary old toad – just doing the best I can.

Not a big plan. Not a complicated plan, with a nice big complicated roadmap from ‘as-is’ to ‘to-be’ and crop-circles an’ all that, like what all those real, proper certififificateded enterprise-architects do.

But a plan. Sort-of.

Hmm…

There’s one part of this plan, though, that a fair few people may not like – and I perhaps ought to apologise for that in advance. (Though might be better to just stop apologising for everything anyway?) It’s just that being responsible also means being honest: and being honest about what I see is going to annoy a few folks – because to be blunt there are a heck of a lot of ideas and actions out there that are just plain dumb. Stupid: the definitely-not-a-good-idea kind of stupid. Often the darn-lucky-if-we-survive-this-one kind of really stupid, too. Sorry, but it’s true.

One example of that kind of ‘really-stupid’ is the notion of ‘rights‘, which just does not and cannot work, no matter how much people try to kludge to make it it look as if it does. It’s bullshit: it’s a ‘kiddies-anarchy’ view of the world, built around evasion of any notion of responsibility. And we need to stop pretending that it’s anything more than that – so that we then do have a chance to rebuild something that actually can and does work.

Ditto the entirety of what’s laughably called ‘economics‘. Ditto the whole notion of ‘intellectual property’ – or most any current form of so-called ‘property’, for that matter. Ditto, behind it, the entire concept of ‘possession‘. All of us know it’s all bullshit, a made-up fantasy to prop up the pretences of people whose idea of ‘making a living’ consists almost entirely of untrammelled theft – an ‘economy’ based on theft-without-end. Gosh: that’s an ‘economy’??? – doesn’t look like one to me… not in any sane sense of ‘economy’ that I’ve ever heard of, anyway… So why not say so? – before we really do all end up in drowning in this bullshit?

Sigh.

In that old fable of ‘the Emperor has no clothes’, it’s a naive kid that unknowingly calls everyone’s bluff, by saying the truth about what he see. But I’ve come to realise that in reality it isn’t some innocent kid: it’s a grumpy old toad like me. Which means that sometimes – often, perhaps – some people ain’t gonna like what I say about what I see. Too bad. Sorry, ’bout that, but there ’tis: there are only two choices here – it’s either be honest, or don’t bother, and from now on I’m a lot clearer about which one of those two I need to pick.

One thing I won’t do is put anyone else down. I’ll challenge the bullshit whenever I see it, and challenge hard about it at times (and expect others to challenge me about that, too): but it’ll always be about the ideas, the thinking, the action – not the person. I promise you that. So if you find yourself ‘taking it personally’ about something I’ve said, please look closely at yourself first, and before you come out all-guns-blazing at me – because it’s in that ‘taking it personal’ that you’re most likely to learn the most, and most likely to find out who you truly are.

Anyway, down to it. That’s the plan, sort-of. And yes, there’s a lot to do – and a lot to talk about with you, too, if you wish?

Am I giving up? No, not at all.

Am I actually leaving the entire enterprise-architecture domain? Nope. (Sorry to disappoint a few folks there, but you’ll just have to put up with that. )

So what exactly am I doing, then?

All I’m doing here, metaphorically speaking, is that I’m moving along the road a bit: a few metaphoric houses up the road, if you like. Similar sort of work to what I’ve always done, in many ways, but a much bigger picture this time. A much bigger picture. I’m not going to be looking (much) at the ‘enterprise’-architecture of some small bits of detail-level IT any more: I’ll be looking at the ‘enterprise-architecture’ of the whole darn planet…

Arrogant sucker, ain’t I?

In a way, yeah, of course it is, to say something like that. But if you look around on this blog and elsewhere, in effect that’s what I’ve already been doing, for years. All that’s really different now is that I’m making it a bit more explicit.

And to be blunt, looking around a bit, it really does feel as if I’m one of the few people anywhere who has a freakin’ clue about what’s really going on out there (answer: an MQ-9 mythquake [kind of like a worldwide Richter-9 earthquake, only worse]), what chance we have to stop it (answer: none at all), what won’t work (answer: just about everything we might think of as ‘normal’ or ‘business-as-usual’), and what might work (very-tentative-suggested-answer: something on the lines of a responsibility-based service-oriented enterprise model for a global economics, with systematic eradication of any concept of possession – including all concept of ‘rights’ – and total restructure of every possible aspect of politics at every level. In other words, just a few minor changes here and there… ). Seems like there might be a real need, then, for someone with my kind of background in futures, social-dynamics, skills-development, creativity, complexity, innovation, sensemaking and strategy, across a whole swathe of different companies, climates, cultures and continents. Oh, and there’s also enterprise-architectures, of course: reckon that might possibly be useful, too.

Yes: a real big need for that.

Kind of a big anti-want for it, though.

A very big anti-want.

Oh well.

But no problem, really. Do I think I can make a living out of it? Nope, of course not: I’m not that crazy. But I’m not making any kind of viable living out of enterprise-architecture, either, so what’s the difference? As long as I can pay my way somehow in this increasingly-insane ‘economic system’, that’s all I’ll need. And given that I’ve survived somehow for all these years, without ever having suffered the indignity of being a so-called ‘permanent’ employee, I reckon I’ll manage to keep going for a while yet. Somehow. Doesn’t really matter that I don’t know how: the way things are going, pretty soon no concept of a ‘plan’ is going to make sense any more, so perhaps I’m just getting in early to beat the rush?

Yeah, sure it’s lonely at times: I don’t have any real support at all, no family, no partner since literally decades ago, and at my age pretty unlikely ever again. Good: it means that there’s no-one else to get hurt on my behalf if I screw things up.

Sure it’s scary, desperately insecure: I don’t even have a home of my own any more. Good: nothing particularly to lose, then; nothing of that kind that can be used as leverage against me. And I can just up-sticks and go anywhere that I’m needed. Easy. (In principle, anyway… )

I’m useless at organising anything, events, stuff like that. Good: instead of desperately pretending that I can do everything myself, let other people do that stuff instead – they’re much better at it than I’ve ever been or ever will be. Just do my part of the work, and let others get on with theirs. Simple. (Interesting challenges on trust, of course… )

Turn every obstacle into an opportunity. Live this stuff that I’ve been talking about: rather than ‘making a living’, much better to go for ‘making a life’.

Crazy? Sure. Of course it is: never said it wasn’t. But then I come out of a family-background with a long anarchist-style tradition (of the more constructive if occasionally-quixotic Quaker variety, rather than the brainless bomb-throwing kind), and it’s about time I put those principles into real-world practice. Time to give something back – especially as, at age 60, I probably don’t have that many years left in which to do so. That fact matters, a lot. It also brings its own rather interesting sense of urgency…

So what does all this mean, in plain, ordinary, everyday terms?

Various things I won’t be doing:

1. I won’t do any more work here on detail-layer analysis of IT-oriented ‘enterprise’-architecture such as TOGAF or Archimate (unless anyone specifically asks me for an opinion or whatever).
2. I won’t be presenting myself for any more contract-work as an ‘enterprise-architect’. (I’ll still be available to do spot-work commercial consultancy or training for most types of EA, in just about any industry that isn’t finance, banking or insurance – but I will expect to get paid for that, every time.)
3. I won’t offer any more ‘free’ advice on enterprise-architecture or whatever to people who can darn well afford to pay for it. (I’ll still be more than happy to help anyone in any other way – especially any of the upcoming ‘new generation’ of enterprise-architects.)
4. I probably won’t be going to any more ‘enterprise’-architecture conferences, not least because I won’t be able to afford it (unless someone pays at least my expenses, of course).
5. I won’t pander any more to people who to me seem arrogant, bullying, unwilling to think, and otherwise acting in an asinine or irresponsible manner (and yes, there’s been a lot of them I’ve put up with way too often over the past few years…)

Various things I will be doing:

1. I will be doing a lot more research and exploration on ‘big-picture’ themes, developing new types of tools and techniques to tackle those issues in a much more constructive way than as at present; and working with others to develop new toolsets and training-materials for these needs. (It’d be nice if someone else paid for some of that work, but being realistic I wouldn’t expect it, unless anyone else that I’m working with is getting paid for it too.)
2. I will be doing various types of consultancy-work with non-profits, citizen-groups and other organisations that are reaching towards a more constructive world. (Again, it’d be nice if I got paid to do some of that, but I’d only expect it from commercial organisations or government bodies, who should be able to afford to subsidise some of that other work at least.)
3. I will show the EA community and others how to apply those ideas, tools and techniques, within the conventional business context, such as with Enterprise Canvas and the like. (It would likewise be nice if sometimes people would at least offer to pay some of my expenses for doing this, but I do acknowledge that there are too many of us already in this same boat that I am with regard to ‘real-EA’.)
4. I probably will be going to a wide variety of conferences and other gatherings on broader-scope societal-change topics. (As ever, the real limit here will be my probable near-nonexistent income: so if you really want me at your gathering, please do find some way to subsidise my travel-expenses at least.)
5. Much of my work and writing will be a lot more ‘political’ and challenging for a lot more folks: in which case, sorry, but that’s just too bad, because none of us can afford to tolerate outright irresponsibility and abuse any more. (I am very clear about what is and is not abuse in the social context, by the way: see the ‘manifesto‘ on that, from my book Power and Response-ability.)

So that’s it: getting down to work in a different garden – a garden that’s a rather better fit, than that of current mainstream ‘enterprise’-architecture, for this admittedly somewhat-strange kind of toad.

Comments / suggestions / requests, anyone?

My mother tells the story of the first house she and my father lived in, some small place way up in the north of England somewhere, back when my elder brother was still a babe-in-arms. The garden they’d inherited there was an overgrown tangle, and they didn’t have much of a clue about gardening, but it seemed a friendly sort of place. It even had its own toad, hiding in the humid dankness underneath a sprawl of strawberry-creepers that had crept in from under the fence from next-door.

It didn’t take long to see why the toad was there. Next-door’s garden was regimented, ordered, everything under control, just so. And all a bit sad, because nothing was thriving there. Beneath all that would-be perfection, the strawberry-patch was a mess of slugs and snails, stunting all the growth; what few fruit were left were all tiny. Yet over on my parents’ side of the fence, those same plants were producing a lush spread of abundant greenery, enough strawberries to keep a grocery going all on its own – and one very happy toad, who’d made very sure that there was not a single slug to be seen.

My mother realised what was happening in the next-door garden, and even offered to send ‘their’ toad over there. But the neighbour was adamant that she wasn’t having “that disgusting creature” in her perfect space: no way! And continued to fret over the fact that her once-imagined idyll was indeed dying…

Hence interesting that I’ve been writing about ‘the toad in the road‘, because I guess that’s what I am myself right now, in this garden we call ‘enterprise architecture’. A toad in the road: right idea, wrong place. Right idea for somewhere, I’d hope. But wrong place for here-and-now. Oh well.

Yeah, enterprise-architecture. You know, this could be a really nice garden? Especially if you got rid of most of this mess of concrete, and let those tired plants in their cracked concrete tubs get their roots down into the dirt at last. Plenty of potential and all that: to get the water flowing again, you might have to take a stick of dynamite to that ugly-looking paddling-pool that the last lot of kids built for themselves, over in the corner called ‘IT-centrism‘, but hey, it’s all here. Why not do it?

You’d wondered where all the wildlife went, but can’t you see there’s not much that can thrive in this kind of desert? A few bugs and wood-lice and a lizard or two, perhaps, but that’s about it. If you want it to work, perhaps plant a few things that can actually grow here: get a bit of shade going an’ all that. There’s a few plants of my own that might grow well here too, if given a halfway-decent chance: the Enterprise Canvas, perhaps, or that notation-agnostic metamodel; or maybe even a bunch of ideas about value-trees, about the service-oriented enterprise and the structure of management – kinda strange-looking at first, I know, but they really do work in this kind of climate. Only a suggestion, of course: it’s your garden, after all.

I’ll have to admit, though, that this isn’t really my kind of place that you’ve got here. Partly my fault, perhaps: I do know I’m kind of an Outsider – always have been, I guess – though I really have tried, I promise you. It’s just I really can’t cope with all the broken-down bits of machinery parked all over the place, and the possessiveness that still pervades everything: they do kinda get in the way all the time. And a bit too grey, too cold, too lifeless: too corporate, I suppose you could say? I’m gettin’ old, I s’pose: I need somewhere that’s a bit more comfortable with having real people around the place, a bit more aware of the anarchic nature of, well, nature itself? I guess I could do with a bit more of the bigger picture, too: and I don’t mind all those mythquakes that we can see coming down the road a ways, though I know they do worry some other folks a lot.

I’ll still be around, of course: if you need me, you know where to find me. And I’m always happy to drop by in your garden – especially if you find a way to bring it more back to life again.

But yeah, I gotta face the facts: this kind of ‘enterprise’-architecture garden ain’t no place for the likes o’ me – and out here at present I’m just another toad in the road.

So it’s “goodbye and thanks for all the slugs”, I guess? – because it seems like it’s time for this old toad to be a-movin’ on.

So: here’s the background.

No-one would doubt that, globally speaking, we all have a few problems at present. Global financial crash, some serious environmental overshoots, an evident reshuffle going on in the global power-positioning between various nation-states, and increasing social unrest even (or perhaps especially) in so-called ‘developed’ countries.

Yet those are almost trivial compared to what any competent futurist could see coming up on the horizon. Seriously.

So much of “Seriously.”, in fact, that there’s no possible way that we’d still be able to survive long-term – or even medium-term – with what we currently think of as ‘business-as-usual’. And I don’t just mean business-survival or suchlike – I mean survival. Period.

Hence we’re talking about an urgent need here for some truly fundamental changes. Not just minor tweaks of the deckchairs on the Titanic.

We still see lots of attempts at such ‘tweaking’, of course. The most popular seems to be about trying to tweak individual parts of the existing money-system – which by now everyone knows isn’t going to work. Perhaps the next most popular type of tweak is the search for ‘alternative currencies‘. Yet all of those ideas fail at the first hurdle, because the real source of the problem goes much deeper than that. Trying to build yet another structure on top of something that already doesn’t work is kinda futile, really…

The real problem is about possession. But it isn’t about who has the money, or who possesses the property: those kinds of problems are ‘fixable’ by ordinary political means. No: the real problem is the entire concept of possession itself. And that’s a lot deeper than just politics: that one really is fundamental.

And the problem is that possession doesn’t work. It never has. That’s the whole point. The notion that “possession makes the world go round” is a total delusion: most times, possession is what makes it go stop. Which, ultimately, is why it guarantees a world that doesn’t work. (Like now. Only worse.)

‘Possession’ is a screaming toddler’s refusal to share – a refusal to accept that the complexities and responsibilities that make a social world viable are always mutual, and must necessarily apply to everyone.

To be blunt, the myth of ‘possession’ arose when some foolish parent failed to pacify and placate a selfish, self-centred, screaming child. Kind of embarrassing to realise that so much of our vaunted ‘world-economy’ has its roots in the nursery, in the possessive temper-tantrum of a child lost in the ‘terrible twos’. Most children do grow out of it, eventually; but some don’t grow out of it at all – and that’s where the problems start…

Unfortunately, too many two-year-olds learnt that screaming and stealing and hitting people and holding onto things that they don’t need will seem to give them ‘control’ over others. The screamers do indeed ‘get results’, for themselves, for a while – but only by making it harder and harder for everyone else to sort out the resultant mess.

More unfortunately, it’s very addictive: it gives apparently-good results in the short-term, but at the cost of screwing things up in the longer-term.

Even more unfortunately, it’s also very infective: when stealing ‘wins’, who wants to be the ‘loser’? Which is why, some 5000 years or so after this mistake first became established - apparently starting within a small sub-clan somewhere in what later became called Mesopotamia – we now have an entire global structure that actively rewards even the most obsessive self-centredness, and actively punishes almost any form of responsibility. Which is why we now have a global economy and a global environment right on the brink of total collapse. Oops…

So, what do we about it?

Let’s start right from the beginning:

The core foundation of all economics and social structures is a ‘value-network’ of interlocking mutual responsibilities.

That part of ‘the economy’ does still work. And we know it works, because we can see it do so in many different contexts and at many different scales, from high-functioning households to the internals of high-functioning businesses, and in most of the now-few ‘traditional’ societies that have so far managed to withstand the ravages of ‘development’.

A possession-based economy is, in effect, a dysfunctional overlay on top of a responsibility-based economy. To be blunt, a selfish-child’s version of an economy, in which everything is deemed to be centred solely around themselves. (Technically, it’s a ‘subject-based’ model: all others are deemed to be subjects of self.)

The fundamental basis of a possession-economy is that it ignores or rejects outright many of the mutual-responsibilities that make an economy viable and sustainable over the longer-term. In effect, it ‘sweeps the mess under the carpet’, and attempts to conceal the mess via a myth of ‘infinite growth’. Yet those responsibilities don’t simply disappear because we ignore them: they’re still there, still gathering metaphoric interest (to use the monetary term). So when the myth of ‘infinite growth’ hits up against the real-world’s finite limits – which is what’s happening now – the whole thing is going to come apart at the seams. At that point, the only viable option is to reinstate what does actually work: a responsibility-based economics.

Which means that we’ll have to dismantle the entire superstructure of possession, and everything built on top of that as well; and then rebuild a new set of structures pretty much from scratch, starting from right down at the root-level, and then building upward again from there. Which is definitely a non-trivial challenge: but we really do not have any choice about that. (If we want to survive, that is…)

The catch is that the change-over has to be total: no exceptions at all. Possession is highly-addictive, and fatally-infective: if we allow any of it to remain, it will destroy the economy all over again – and we won’t be able to survive another mess like this one. There’s no getting round that fact: it really is all, or nothing. Literally.

Which where it gets kinda scary…

Possession has to go. Perhaps doesn’t sound so bad at first, because it might seem too abstract to matter. But we mean that this applies to all notions of possession, in every one of its real-world forms. No exceptions. No exceptions.

Which means barter has to go too, because barter assumes that we must already possess something, in an exclusive sense, in order to be able to exchange it for something else.

Which means that money, or currency in any form, also has to go, because in effect that’s just an overlay on top of barter.

Which means, among other things, that the entire monetary-system has to go; the entire banking-system and finance-system has to go; the entirety of microeconomics, the entire system of pricing and valuation, yes, that all has to go too. And the entire tax-system has to be re-thought from scratch, along with the entire social-benefits system, the fundamentals of the insurance-system, the fundamentals of most medical-care systems, the fundamentals of most forms of trade, and much, much, much more.

The entirety of the property-system needs to be restructured from scratch, refocussed around responsibilities: in a responsibility-based economy, we own something not because we claim to ‘possess’ it, but because we declare and demonstrate responsibility for it.

Yep: this isn’t something that we can fix up with a few minor tweaks here and there – which is all that most people seem to be aiming for at present. It’s big. Really big. Huge. And yet it’s probably the only chance that we have to get out of this mess.

And just to make it even more fun, we also have to remove all forms of possession in the social sphere. Of which the most important, most pervasive, and most pernicious, is the concept of ‘rights’. (Ouch… not going to be popular for saying that, am I? )

Yet the blunt fact is that ‘rights’ aren’t real: they only exist because of the mutual responsibilities that create the conditions that we want when we talk of ‘rights’. And the other blunt fact is that most so-called ‘rights’ are actually little more than a sneaky method to evade key aspects of the mutuality of those responsibilities, and attempt to offload the responsibilities onto everyone else. Which is, technically, a form of abuse – and hence, in many cases, a fully state-sponsored form of structural abuse against those who are deemed not to have the respective ‘rights’. Which is why things often don’t work very well – especially whenever someone insists on bringing their purported ‘rights’ into the picture… Most so-called ‘human rights’ exist solely to compensate for someone else’s so-called ‘rights’: and the only viable way to sort out the resultant shambles is to get rid of the whole mess of ‘rights’, and focus on the responsibilities instead.

In short, the entire notion of ‘rights’ is a form of possession – or more often the ‘anti-possession’ of a claimed absence of responsibility. Which is why ‘rights’ have to go, too.

Yes, I’m serious: no rights. For anyone. Anywhere. Ever. Instead, we have to replace every single purported ‘right’ with social-structures that are based on the actual underlying mutual-responsibilities, to deliver the same overall results, and more. (That’s not hard to do, by the way: most businesses do it internally all of the time, in one way or another. Yet for many people, though, the ending of the delusion of ‘rights’ is definitely going to be the hardest part of this to face…)

So: no possession, no barter, no money, and no rights. Think that might mean a few changes to most our existing institutions, then…?

Which, in turn, is why most of those institutions aren’t likely to be much help here either:

• Would you trust a banker to supervise the end of the entire banking-system?
• Would you trust a lawyer to supervise the end of most current law?
• Would you trust an economist to rethink the entire economy?
• Would you trust a government to rethink the entire nature of government?

Hmm… probably not?

So who could do this work that so obviously and urgently needs to be done?

It’s going to need someone with a solid background in futures. Most futurists, though would, only deal with the abstract, the future – they don’t deal much with the nitty-gritty of ‘the now’.

It’s going to need someone with some solid experience in negotiation, in governance, and design for governance. A lot of people in the social-work space could do that – but they usually don’t have much experience of futures, or of dealing with anything that isn’t primarily about people.

It’s going to need to need a total re-think of business-processes, business-models and business in general, in just about every possible field of work. Most business analysts could do that, if it was all about money – which it isn’t. Which kind of rules them out for this work as well.

It’s going to need to cross an enormous scope – in a way, it’d be literally everything. Not a good role for single-domain specialists, then.

Which kinda bring us back to the skillsets of the enterprise-architect: futures-oriented, but practical; people-oriented, but with a solid grasp of the technical too; a lot of experience with re-thinking every aspect of business, outside of a purely money-oriented scope; and above all, consummate generalists.

So yeah, does kinda look like the ball’s in our court, doesn’t it?

Hmm…

Comments, anyone?

Step 1: The aim of the ‘thought-experiment’ is to devise a form of governance for a responsibility-based economics for an enterprise of any scale. What we’ll be working on during this thought-experiment is identifying the core constraints for a ‘to-be’ architecture for that requirement.

(Ultimately, we’d need to be talking about governance for economics at a global scale, but it might be best to start with something a bit smaller: your own organisation, for example, in relation to its industry and business-context.)

Step 2: For the purposes of the thought-experiment, take it as a given that any claim of ‘possession’, in any form whatsoever, will cause failure of the respective economic system in the medium- to longer-term. We must therefore class all forms and variants of possession as ‘disallowed’ from the to-be architecture.

(See the previous posts for the background to this assertion. It does happen to be true, but for now let’s bypass any argument by saying that we’re just using it as a nominally-arbitrary assumption for a thought-experiment.)

Step 3: For the purpose here, take it also as a given that possession, and hence all of its overlays, is itself an overlay on top of a responsibility-based economy – a structure of interlocking mutual responsibilities. Because of this, everything that would perhaps more usually be described in terms of possession or its derivatives – the ‘disallowed’ items from the previous step – may instead be described in terms of mutual responsibilities.

(Again, see the previous posts for the detail on that, but for now just take it as an assumption “solely for the purposes of the thought-experiment” etc.)

Step 4: Outline a ‘to-be’ architecture whose core content consists of the responsibility-based replacements for all ‘disallowed’ items. No exceptions can be permitted, because any instance of a possession-based model will inevitably ‘infect’ and eventually destroy the sustainability of the responsibility-based model.

– Step 4a: All concepts of exclusive-possession are ‘disallowed’; societal management of those resources must be described in terms of personal responsibilities for and to those resources, and interlocks between mutual responsibilities for the use (‘exploitation’) of those resources, including all responsibilities to others either elsewhere or elsewhen.

– Step 4b: All concepts of ‘anti-possession’ – a purported ‘right’ to not be responsible for some aspect of a managed resource – are also ‘disallowed’; governance-mechanisms should be defined so as to ensure that the respective personal and/or mutual responsibilities are not evaded.

– Step 4c: All concepts of possession of inherent priority, privilege or ‘entitlement’ are ‘disallowed’. (Note that this means that, by definition, all concepts of supposed ‘rights’ must be ‘disallowed’ – including all purported property rights, right to free speech, right to silence, women’s rights, etc. Which, yes, is going to be seriously challenging for a lot of folks… but for now, play safe, and keep reminding people that this is ‘only a thought-experiment’.) Instead, identify the mutual responsibilities that underpin and/or are evaded in order to create the context for each purported ‘right’ at present, and – as for ‘anti-possession’ – devise governance that would resolve and prevent evasion of mutual-responsibilities in that context.

– Step 4d: From 4a and 4c, all concepts of exclusive ‘property rights’ are ‘disallowed’: this includes physical-property, real-estate, land-title, so-called ‘intellectual property’, brands, cultural-stories and the like. Note that in effect this also includes beliefs about ‘possession of the truth’, such as are common in many forms of law, and in scientism and in similar models of religious or quasi-religious belief. Identify the mutual-responsibilities and evasions of responsibilities that underpin all of these ‘possessions’, and sketch out forms of governance that do also acknowledge and respect people’s emotional and spiritual attachment to things, to places and to ideas.

– Step 4e: All concepts of ‘possession’ of others are ‘disallowed’. Note that such concepts are commonly either explicit or implied in many social relationships, such as employment-contracts, marriage, notions of ‘custody’ of children, etc. As above, identify the actual responsibilities that would be required in each case – taking into account the fundamental differences that would apply in a non-possession-based economic and societal model – and sketch out governance that would support those responsibilities and their mutualities.

– Step 4f: Scan language in use within the context, for possessives such as ‘my’ , ‘your’, ‘his’, ‘hers’, ‘their’, ‘its’, ‘the company’s’ etc, to identify any implied forms or assertions of ‘possession’. All such forms would be classed as ‘disallowed’, as above; identify, document and model the underlying mutual-responsibilities, also as above.

– Step 4g: All concepts of barter presume the existence of a possession-based model of ‘right to exchange’, and hence are automatically ‘disallowed’. Identify the mutual responsibilities implied by any barter-exchange, and devise alternative mechanisms – and governance for those mechanisms – that are based on the actual underlying responsibilities.

– Step 4h: All concepts of ‘currency’ (including money, tokens, time-based currencies, money-based taxes or fines etc) represent purported possession-based ‘rights to resources’, and hence are automatically ‘disallowed’. As for barter above, identify the mutual-responsibilities – and, often, evasions of responsibilities – that underly such concepts, and devise alternative exchange-mechanisms and governance that are based on the actual underlying responsibilities.

(Note that all of the above is the minimum that would need to be in place in order to create and maintain a viable and sustainable economy. A lot of this might no doubt seem seem seriously scary, but it’s essential to realise that there can be no exceptions here. We can’t cling on to some favoured part of the possession-economy, because any remnant part of the existing possession-based structures will inevitably destroy everything – there is no way round that bald fact. Hence the work here.

Don’t forget that, by definition, every form of ‘possession’ and every so-called ‘right’ is actually based on mutual-responsibilities: the responsibilities themselves are rarely acknowledged, and the mutualities of those responsibilities even less so, yet without them, the ‘right’ or whatever would not and could not exist. To illustrate this, try a very simple exercise: take that classic US description of ‘the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness’, and identify the responsibilities that underpin each of those ‘rights’. In reality, every ‘right’ is an arbitrary fiction; but the responsibilities that underly them are real. Hence why we really are best off by discarding the entire concept of ‘rights’, and keep a firm focus on the real responsibilities instead.)

Step 5: Sketch out mechanisms of exchange, and forms of governance for such exchange and relationship, that fully enact and support all of the mutual-responsibilities identify within all the work of the previous step. Document and model all of this as a ‘to-be’ enterprise-architecture for the respective scope.

(Most of this is a straightforward ‘to-be’ architecture-modelling exercise: it’s focussed on governance rather than, say, IT-applications or physical infrastructure, but the principles and process are exactly the same as usual.)

Step 6 (optional):  Map out an ‘as-is’ architecture for the same scope, based on the various current possession-based structures.

(This again should be straightforward: in essence, it’s just describing what we already know and, uh, love…)

Step 7 (optional – requires Step 6): Develop a gap-analysis between ‘to-be’ and ‘as-is’, to identify requirements for change from the present context to a viable and sustainable responsibility-based socioeconomic model.

(This is the part that gets seriously scary for a lot of people… Notice how many existing institutions simply don’t exist any more in the ‘to-be’ model: banks, insurances, pensions, monetary taxes, most concepts of ‘valuation’, the entire money-system, large chunks of the legal system, large chunks of current education, religion, science, and much else besides. What’s interesting is what doesn’t change: for example, most market transactions still have to happen somehow, but via a responsibility-based model rather than via ‘rights of exclusion’.)

Once all of this is done, documented, discussed with stakeholders and the rest… – only then can we sensibly start talking about possible ‘solutions’, ‘roadmaps for change’, and the like.

(Again, this is standard architecture-practice: other than for Agile-style exploratory experiments, we don’t talk about ‘solutions’ until the requirements are properly understood. There are way too many people wanting to rush off into some form or other of instant-’solution’ – particularly around would ‘alternative-currencies’ and the like – but it’s a complete waste of time and effort unless and until this work is done…)

Oh, and in case you wondered whether any of this is feasible? – if so, perhaps take a look at some the various state-wide or nation-wide emergency-management legislation scattered around the globe…? In Australia, for example, the person in charge of a declared emergency already has the legal right to take possession of anything at all “as he sees fit”, offering only “such compensation as he sees fit”: and there’s nothing whatsoever to stop a government declaring a national-scale emergency and literally taking possession of the whole country – with no payment required at all. The same will almost certainly also be true for your own country… interesting, huh?

Anyway, try this out for yourself, if you would? – and let me know what insights arise for you in doing so, perhaps?

(Don’t panic: this is only about getting started in doing so – not the whole thing! But collectively, as enterprise-architects, we do need to get started on this, as a matter of real urgency, because the longer we all leave it, the faster we run out of options when the crunch really does come – and all the indications are that that’s not far ahead at all. (Remember that I’ve worked as a professional futurist? From what I see right now, I’d say that we do have perhaps ten years from now to get everything set up, though no more than fifty years beyond that to get the entire world economy changed over to a sustainable model. If we don’t get properly started within the current decade, I’d estimate that we’d have perhaps at most ten more years beyond that of ‘business as usual’ before the whole thing collapses worldwide in an all-too-literally bloody mess. Look at any of the planetary-scale indicators right now: you’ll see that no, I’m not being alarmist at all, and yes, it really is that serious…)

And no doubt you might ask “Shouldn’t it be the lawyers who do should do this – not us?” If so, all I can say is “listen to what you’ve just said…” – because right now, to be blunt, would you trust any lawyer, or certainly any group of lawyers, to lead any kind of constructive change, especially at this kind of scale? I wouldn’t: with very few exceptions, they’re way too embedded in the current models, in every possible way – which makes them almost the least appropriate group to guide a fundamental rethink of governance and the law. By contrast, whole-enterprise architects have a lot of practice at linking things across a very broad scope, at every layer from very abstract to very concrete; and most will have had a lot of experience at all manner of governance-issues of every category, from rules to algorithms to guidelines to principles, dealing with and negotiating on a vast array of interpersonal issues and wicked-problems between just about every feasible group of stakeholders – all of which makes EAs one of the few groups of people who do have the background and experience for this task. Hence this post.)

To make sense of what follows, you’ll probably need to have read at least the following posts:

• (on the Sidewise blog) ‘The future of money is that it has no future‘
• ‘The architecture of a no-money economy‘
• ‘An economics challenge for enterprise-architects‘
• ‘Responses to ‘EA economics challenge’‘

All of those posts explored one specific aspect of what’s needed for a viable societal model, namely the architecture of its economics. What I want to do here is start going one step deeper, exploring the core architectural-principles for a system of law and governance that would underpin that economics.

(What should be clear to everyone by now is that the current system of economics, and the system of property-law that underpins it, is not sustainable. Or, to put it the other way round, a sustainable economy depends on a system of sustainable law – which doesn’t exist at present. The best that current economic-law can achieve is what I’ve described as ‘That Worst Possible System‘, where resources will inevitably end up where they’re least needed. The worst it can achieve is, well, a lot worse… and from a futurist perspective, it’s patently obvious that that’s where we’re headed right now.

Which, to put it mildly, means that we’re all in trouble. Deep trouble.

The catch, of course, is that most people won’t believe that fact. Or won’t want to believe it, more to the point. Which in itself is a problem – especially for anyone who happens to find themselves in the unhappy role of ‘the messenger’ in the age-old game of “the best way to respond to bad news is to shoot the messenger”…

Hence, for public-consumption, probably best to describe all of what follows as ‘merely a thought-experiment’. Except that it isn’t. At all.

Anyway… to continue…)

I perhaps need to make it clear that I won’t be presenting or promoting anything here that purports to be ‘The Answer’. Any competent enterprise-architect should recognise that we’re nowhere near that stage as yet: we’ve barely even started on ‘The Question’…

We do have a fairly good idea of ‘The Vision’, though – namely something like ‘a world that works in a sustainable way, with an economics that works in a sustainable way’. (I don’t think anyone would disagree with that? – or anyone vaguely-sane, anyway?) So that’ll do as a starting-point: we can leave detailed discussion of values and the like until somewhat later.

Given that starting-point, the next thing we need to establish are the fundamental constraints that any would-be ‘solution’ must address. And it’s those constraints that are the main focus for this first-stage thought-experiment here.

What came up from the research behind the previous posts was as follows:

– The money-system has now become almost completely detached from any concrete reality or from any feasible form of control: so we now have a potentially-infinite system that has no inherent constraints or controls, but that somehow supposedly obtains ‘rights’ to an inherently-constrained pool of concrete resources. That’s a very serious problem in itself: yet money in itself is not the core source of the problems we face.

– The primary purpose of all money-type mechanisms is to resolve a structural problem with barter: barter-exchanges can only take place on a point-to-point basis at or close to real-time, so a ‘currency’ of some kind provides a token of mutual trust that supports multi-way indirect non-real-time exchanges across the agreed jurisdiction of that currency. This in turn depends on a mechanism of ‘valuation’, which in essence is now all but completely broken: yet valuation in itself is not the core source of the problems.

– The same problems apply to all forms of ‘currency’: hence the currency-type is not the core source of the problems. (Hence there is no point is wasting time or effort on any form of ‘alternative-currency’, because by definition no type of ‘currency’ can resolve the real underlying economic problems.)

– Barter assumes some form of exchange of services or resources; in turn, a barter-based economy assumes that everyone has access to ‘exchangeable resources’, or ‘tradable services’ – which is simply not the case at all. Small children, the ill, the elderly, and anyone undertaking care-work or the like for such people, will either have nothing to exchange, or no time to engage in so-called ‘economic activity’. The fact that a barter-based economy – and hence any money-based economy – will therefore be unable to cover the economic relationships of more than perhaps half the people of the world, is in itself a serious problem: yet barter in itself is not the core source of the problems.

– Barter-exchanges assume that each participant has the ‘right’ to exchange the resource or service – which in turn assumes the ‘right’ to withhold that resource or service, otherwise there would be no need for the type of ‘quid pro quo’ exchanges managed through barter and the like. Such purported ‘rights’ of exclusion are typically termed ‘property-rights’, and ultimately almost all trails of provenance for purported ‘property-rights’ end up in some arbitrary act of expropriation – or, bluntly, theft – which is in itself a serious problem: yet ‘property-rights’ in themselves are not the core source of the problem.

– Right at the root – underpinning all of the above – is a concept of possession. It is, in essence, the two-year-old’s view of the world: “Mine!” It arises from an inability to perceive that the economic world depends on complex interlocking of mutual responsibilities, and hence an inability to trust that resources and services will be there as needed. It can also be seen as ‘possession’ of a purported right to not be responsible to others for some aspect of a resource or service – a peculiar form of possession that we might describe as ‘anti-possession’. The result is that all attempts at possession or any of its variants will cause resources and services to not be available where, when and to whom they are needed – and hence possession itself becomes its own dysfunctional self-confirming prophecy.

There’s a lot more detail that could be gone into here, but in essence it all comes down to this: the core problem that underpins all economic dysfunctionality is a concept of possession.

To put it at its bluntest and simplest: no system of sustainable law can incorporate any concept of possession, in any form whatsoever, applying to any type of resource or service. That includes physical-property, intellectual-property, relationships, ideas, theories, beliefs, religion, anything: none of them can be ‘possessed’ in any way.

(Interestingly, any attempts at ‘possession’ usually result in the respective person being ‘possessed’ by that which is considered to be possessed: a point which is expressed well in the Buddhist concept of ‘attachment’. Yet there’s a further twist, in that an attempt at rejection of possession is itself a form of possession, the possession of the absence of something. In a more complete Buddhist view, ‘non-attachment’ – ahimsa - is a synonym not of ‘detachment’, but of non-detachment.)

What does work is mutual responsibility: a model of ownership based on responsibility or stewardship. We ‘own’ something because we accept responsibility for that ‘something’ – and for no other reason. We do not have a ‘right’ to withhold it from anyone, other than as an expression of that personal responsibility.

All economic systems are ultimately based on interlocking mutual responsibilities: ’possession’ is merely a dysfunctional and literally ‘self-ish’ overlay on top of a responsibility-based economic model.

Most ‘traditional’ economies are responsibility-based. The internal operation of most households – the literal meaning of ‘economics’ – is responsibility-based. Most aspects of the internal operations of most organisations are responsibility-based. All possession-based, barter-based, currency-based or money-based economic-models are aberrations that are inherently guaranteed to cause economic failure. This is, of course, almost the exact opposite of what we’re usually taught about economics…

It is true that a possession-based model will seem to deliver better economic results in the short-term: yet it does so solely by offloading some form of economic-responsibility to elsewhere and/or elsewhen. To be blunt, it ‘succeeds’ solely via stealing either from others in the present, the future or, in some specific examples, the past. Its primary method for concealing the theft is via a concept of ‘growth’: once such ‘growth’ ceases – as it always must in any closed system – its only remaining option is to cannibalise itself into oblivion. There is no possible way to make a possession-based economy sustainable.

So, that’s the context of this architectural ‘thought-experiment’:

– The vision is a sustainable world.

– The constraints are that since all forms of possession lead to economic relationships that are inherently unsustainable, that world cannot include any form of possession, and hence also cannot include any form of possession-based ‘property’, any withholding-based exchange, barter, currency, money, or finance.

– Corollaries from those constraints include an assertion that any form of ‘growth’-based economics is likely to be delusory; likewise that any concept of ‘control’ is likely to be delusory.

– By definition, possession-based societal-control mechanisms cannot be used for societal control in this model: this includes fines, confiscation of property, and many other types of inclusion or exclusion. Likewise monetary taxes, pensions, benefits and similar mechanisms for ‘wealth-distribution’ and suchlike will not be available. (It’s quite a long list of other things that would vanish, too: banks, insurances, mortgages, loans, credit-cards, wages, salaries, ‘gifts’, bribes and much, much more. Interesting, yes? )

As enterprise-architects we do know how to do governance for this kind of world: it’s exactly what we deal with when we talk about a ‘project owner’ or ‘process owner’ or ‘business-rule owner’. It’s also the type of context that we deal with when getting different stakeholders and project-groups together to resolve architectural conflicts. And we also know how to do roadmaps for change, and how to deal with some of those really difficult change-adoption issues. In that sense, the only real difficulty for this ‘thought-experiment’ should be in scaling all of that experience up to a much broader scope – and again, we know how to handle scaling-issues of this type.

So there’s the governance-challenge:

• How do we make this work?
• What governance do we need?
• In what ways does the governance change in different contexts – simple rule-based ‘law’, legal-algorithm, pattern-based guidelines, or overarching principles?
• What checks and balances are needed for each form of governance?
• Who are the stakeholders in each case?
• What are the responsibilities for each stakeholder?
• How do we identify and monitor the mutualities and interlocks between those responsibilities?
• Within the governance-mechanisms, how do we balance all the conflicting needs?
• How do we support viable, sustainable forms of conflict-resolution that do not simply collapse into ‘wicked-problems’ time and time again?

That’s it. It’s huge, sure; yet it’s also urgent…

So: over to you: any comments? Any questions? Or any answers, perhaps?

(This is probably another politically-risky post for me to play with, but never mind… )

In recent weeks I’ve repeatedly come across four seemingly-distinct themes:

• deeper exploration of the architectural idea that everything in the enterprise is or represents a service
• watching architecture colleagues in several different organisations struggle yet again with inane demands from management-hierarchies that simply don’t work
• deeper exploration of conceptual flaws in current economics, particularly around the concept of possession and ‘rights of possession’
• watching yet deeper cracks appear in the current worldwide economic system

For me there’s been a kind of nagging suspicion that there might be some strong interrelationships across all of that conceptual space. Which in turn leads me to several deeply-worrying questions – from an architectural perspective, if nothing else:

• If everything is a service, what services – if any – does management actually deliver to the enterprise?
• If everything is a service, why should management be assigned any priority over anything else?
• Why are management-services and management overall so consistently and notoriously inefficient and ineffective?
• What part does organisational-structure play in rendering management-services so seemingly-ineffective in practice?
• Why is it assumed that ‘promoting’ someone into management will necessarily improve overall service-delivery?
• Why is it so often assumed that the most effective way of organising management-services is a top-down hierarchy of supposed ‘control’ of all other services?
• Following the trails of prioritised service-relationships, why are financial-shareholders so often assigned priority over every service, when in many cases the only ‘service’ they offer seems, in essence, little different from a ‘protection-racket’ – enforced compliance to demands under threat of removal of ‘protection’?
• In the current socio-political context, what – if anything – can we do architecturally to make any of this work any better?

For that matter, what can we do to make it safe even to ask such questions…?

Hmm…

(Warning: this will no doubt be another long post…)

Let’s explore a bit more about each of those questions above.

If everything is a service, what services does management nominally deliver to the enterprise?

In Enterprise Canvas, the services typically delivered by ‘the management’ are described as ‘direction services’, with three distinct components:

• ‘develop the business’ – identify organisational and enterprise vision, and keep the organisation on-track to vision (VSM: ‘system-5′, “decisions to maintain identity”)
• ‘change the business’ – explore external (and internal?) context, to identify required strategic change (VSM: ‘system-4′, “development, research and marketing”)
• ‘run the business’ – use tactical and operational information to assess activity, allocate resources and guide decision-making (VSM: ‘system-3′, “operations planning and control”)

In essence, in classic Taylorism, anything that is not specifically about production or service-delivery (VSM: ‘system-1′), and could be construed as in some way related to ‘control’ of others, is placed under the exclusive purview and privilege of ‘management’. Taylorism places a strict boundary – some would say a social class-boundary – between ‘management’ and ‘workers’. Yet from a service-architecture perspective, management itself is another form of service-delivery, namely the delivery of ‘management-services’ – it is not and cannot be viewed as structurally different from anything else.

If everything is a service, why should management be assigned any priority over anything else?

Short answer: no valid reason at all – from a services-perspective, anyway. It’s just another service, or set of services.

The only feasible reason why management might be assigned arbitrary priority over other services is from left-over delusions about ‘rights of control’. For the most part, these delusions arise from an unfortunate coincidence of functions within the ‘management-services’:

• services for strategic-assessment – potentially giving the delusion that ‘knowing more about big-picture’ inherently means ‘responsibility to tell others what to do’
• services for coordination of resource-allocation – potentially giving the delusion of authority over others via ‘right to withhold’, in turn arising from delusions about the (dys)functional role of purported ‘rights of possession’ within the broader society, and hence within an organisation’s economic model.

In short, architecturally speaking, this is not a defensible reason for priority. Every service is ‘just another service’ that is required for enterprise viability: hence no service can be said to have inherent priority over any other.

Why are management-services and management overall so inefficient and ineffective?

The main reason is failure to understand that management-services are ‘just another service’, without any inherent priority over any other.

Mistaken concepts of inherent-priority and inherent authority ‘over’ others underpin and maintain a broad suite of highly-addictive power-problems and power-delusions – see the ‘Manifesto‘ from my book ‘Power and Response-ability: the human side of systems, and the SEMPER framework documented in SEMPER & SCORE.

In essence, the assumption of inherent-priority feeds a possessionist delusion of ‘right’ to regard and treat others as either ‘object’ or ‘subject’ of self. For obvious reasons, this rarely works well in a social context…

What part does organisational-structure play in rendering management-services ineffective in practice?

The short answer is probably a lot – though it’s often far from obvious as to exactly how and why this should be so.

Two themes do come to mind. One is that the Taylorist split between ‘management’ and ‘workers’ means that anything ‘not-work’ is pushed into the ‘management’ space. (This is another variant of the same driver that creates IT-centrism or business-centrism, but kind of in reverse – more “I am not-that” than “I am that”.) A key side-effect of this is that the non-run-time coordination-services and virtually all of the validation-services are subsumed under the ‘management’ banner – where they most definitely do not belong. As the Viable System Model makes clear, these categories of services are necessarily somewhat orthogonal to the direction-services (‘management’); if they are in effect subsumed into ‘management’, the automatic result – as evidenced in every ‘control’-oriented organisation – will be the creation of somewhat-covert ‘shadow-networks’ in order to get the respective work done. This inevitably creatives inefficiencies, misalignment, miscommunication, and many, many conflicts with ‘the management’ – as can be seen in almost any Dilbert cartoon…

The other theme arises from the Victorian (and hence Taylorist) passion for hierarchies of ‘control’. A tree-structure works well as a means to aggregate information and develop abstractions and overviews, and also as a means to distribute guidance-information (and resources in general) from a central point. However, a tree-structure is not good for coordinating end-to-end business-processes, because it forces all cross-silo coordination up towards the ‘top’ of the tree, creating serious bottlenecks for flows. And as Deming showed, it’s also often a very poor structure for decision-making and control, because of the ‘Taylorist trap’: the skillsets and abilities needed to solve concrete front-line problems become less and less available the further ‘upward’ – more-abstract – that we move in the hierarchy-tree.

There are probably many other examples of how management-structures impact effectiveness: there’s a lot more exploration needed here. These two themes are destructive enough already, though…

Why is it assumed that ‘promoting’ someone into management will improve overall service-delivery?

In a technical sense, we could suggest that it’s an odd historical artefact of three related yet distinct strands: possession-based economics, capitalism, and the last vestiges of feudalism. Possession-based economics provides the notion of personal ‘rights’ to collective resources; capitalism provides the concept that ‘the owners’ have exclusive ‘rights’ to organisational resources, and hence have exclusive say in how those resources are distributed and used; whilst feudalism provides the notion of ‘superiority’ and ‘inferiority’, and the purported ‘right’ of ‘superiors’ to determine and demand the actions of their ‘inferiors’. The result is a peculiar tree-type structure that can work well for specific functions in certain specific contexts: the Roman army is perhaps the classic example. In all too many cases, though, it tends to collapse into a dysfunctional mess where position with the tree-of-control denotes ‘authority without responsibility’ – riddled with all too many illustrations of what goes wrong when ‘power’ is defined as ‘the ability to avoid work’…

In possessionist capitalism, ‘rights’ to organisational resources are directly related to ‘position’ on the tree-of-control; ‘promotion’ (and its counterpart ‘demotion’) is a re-positioning on that tree, and hence an amendment of ‘rights to resources’ – both organisational resources and, via ‘remuneration’ and the like, to societal resources. To put it in a less technical way, ‘promotion’ is the main mechanism within the current employment-based model via which competent people get more recognition and more ‘stuff’. Because the tree-of-control is associated almost exclusively with the management-services, this often means that the only available means of enhanced recognition and remuneration is via ‘promotion’ into the management-structure.

In principle, a management role implies increased responsibility to guide others: in a service-oriented enterprise, that’s the real purpose for the management-services – and when that is the purpose for a ‘promotion’ into management, it does work well. The problem is that the ‘management=promotion’ assumes both that the person both wants to do that type of work with that increased responsibility for others, and is competent to do it anyway – and in many cases the answer is ‘No’. Yet if the only means of increased recognition or resources is ‘promotion’ into management, then that’s what they’ll do – and sometimes they have no choice about it anyway.

The result is often serious damage to organisational effectiveness. The competence-problem is well documented in the Peter Principle, that “in a hierarchy every employee tends to rise to their level of incompetence”. The other side of the ‘promotion’ is that someone who is usually very skilled at some other type of service-delivery is no longer available to do that work any more. To make it worse, becoming out of touch with front-line service-delivery may result in a steady erosion of their original competence – yet they may still believe that they know as much, if not more, than those who are currently doing front-line delivery. Courtesy of Taylorist theories about the nature of organisations, they may even believe that they automatically know more than others because they have been ‘promoted’ to a management role. The consequences can be very messy indeed…

A first-hand example, from a place where I once worked as a contract web-developer. (I’ve tweaked some of the details here to protect my colleagues, but otherwise this is essentially a factual description.) A very experienced engineer, who’d been very effective as a cross-discipline trouble-shooter for many years, was finally forced to take ‘promotion’ into managing the overall section. He was not a good administrator – but unfortunately believed that he was, and quickly learnt to blame everyone else rather than take responsibility for his own mistakes. Worse, he decided that, as manager, he now had the ‘right’ to review and amend anyone else’s work, often without bothering to tell them. The climax came when he changed a core part of our application late one evening, bypassing the code-management system to do so, and causing the application to break the following morning, right in the middle of a demonstration to key stakeholders. After that, everyone learned to block him out from anything that they were working on. So the only effective result of the ‘promotion’ was that we lost a very good troubleshooter, and gained a barely-competent manager and a frankly dangerous meddler – all in the same person.

Why is it assumed that the most effective way of organising management-services is a top-down hierarchy of ‘control’?

Most of this comes from Taylorist and pre-Taylorist belief-systems, as summarised above.

The problem is two-fold. One part is that a tree-structure is a good way to aggregate and abstract from performance-information, and to distribute directions within any context where centralised decision-making makes sense. There’s therefore a tendency to assume that it will therefore work well in all contexts – which is not the case. In essence, if the work is essentially robotic, can be defined by simple rules, and aggregation of control- and performance-information can be handled by a simple tree-structure without ‘top-of-tree’ inter-silo bottlenecks, and the context itself is not undergoing rapid change, then a top-down hierarchy will usually work well. If the work is knowledge-based and/or relationship-based, requires any form of localised decision-making, or any form of ‘any to any’ communication, or the context itself is changing – all of which frequently apply in present business-contexts – then a top-down control-hierarchy will not work well, and an alternative structure for management-services within that context must be used.

The other part of this is a hang-over from feudal times, where authority, responsibilities and ‘rights’ were defined in terms of strict rules within their own networks of fealty-oaths. A duke had the responsibility to lead an army, but was also responsible to raise the funds and everything else that the army would need; a count was responsible for taxation within a region, which often entailed the need for a small army to enforce that taxation; and so on. A feudal model defines that all people ‘below’ in the tree-of-control are subjects – literally, subject to the will of the ‘superior’, or acting as extensions of the ‘superior’s will.

(Psychologically speaking, it’a a very interesting ‘racket’, because it enables all parties to claim the ‘rights’ to any rewards but also the ‘right’ to avoid responsibility for the consequences. The ‘superior’ orders the action, but can avoid responsibility only the ‘inferiors’ actually did the action; the ‘inferiors’ did the action, but can claim that they weren’t responsible because they were ‘only following orders’ from the ‘superior’. The Nuremberg Principles are now used to overrule this ‘game’ in terms of war-crimes, though not yet applied to business-crimes: it will be interesting to see what happens when they are…)

In short, it’s just an arbitrary assumption: nothing more than that. It’s the result of a classic logic-error, assuming that because something did work in one context, it must therefore continue to do so in that context and all other contexts. Architecturally speaking, we need to challenge this assumption in every case, because the consequences to the organisation’s effectiveness are not good.

Why are financial-shareholders so often assigned priority over every service?

Short answer: no defensible reason. In practice, it arises from interestingly-selective myopia, from the usual dysfunctionalities of the possession-economy, and from a failure to grasp that the fundamentals of capitalism have actually changed somewhat during the past few hundred years…

The myopia is that financial shareholders are merely one category of investors in the organisation and enterprise: in almost all organisations and enterprises, there are many other types of investment than money, and many other categories of investor. Financial-shareholders are also often some of the least-responsible investors, given that the shareholding may now last mere milliseconds in some cases, and that shareholding in limited-liability companies involves quite considerable ‘rights’ with almost zero responsibilities other than risk of loss of financial investment. Structurally, this represents a very high risk to the enterprise.

The arbitrary privileging of financial-investment, and purported ‘rights of possession’ solely on the basis of financial investment, are rooted in an early-18th-century model of capitalism that is ludicrously out-of-date relative to the present-day business-context. For example, given that the core capital of many current organisations resides primarily in the minds and relationships of individual employees, the shareholder-model is often tantamount to a declaration of ‘right of possession’ of those individuals themselves – a claim which, as Charles Handy and other business-writers have pointed out, is utterly indefensible in law, because it’s tantamount to slavery. Again, huge structural problems here, for business-architecture especially – with a real risk that some of these structural flaws are already moving towards a point of catastrophic-failure.

What can we do architecturally to make any of this work any better?

All of these are architectural problems, all with very severe consequences, and hence definitely of serious concern in all aspects of enterprise-architecture and its various domain-architectures.

However, in most cases they arise from very deep political roots – which are not fun to deal with as an enterprise-architect…

The key here is to remember that, especially at this level, the architect’s role is primarily one of decision-support – not decision-making. In most of these cases, the decisions belong to senior executives, boards and, further out, regulators and politicians and the like. We should not attempt to usurp any of those decisions!

What we can do, and should do (in my opinion, anyway!), is to gather the evidence that others will need in order to make those decisions. In many cases we also could or should develop and document preliminary options – including documenting the implications and social and other costs and consequences – so that, again, those others can make informed decisions (or at least, more informed decisions than they seem to do at present…). That’s our task here: attempting to do anything more than that will probably help no-one – and may cause a lot more harm than good, especially to us.

Probably the simplest way to deal with this, in an architectural sense, is to class all of the problems described above as ‘dispensations’, breaches of valid architectural principles that have been allowed to go ahead anyway because of some overriding reason. In most cases, we can document the reason for the dispensation as a ‘political’ or ‘gold-plated requirement’ (to use the respective term from the Volere requirements-framework) – in other words, an arbitrary choice that has no real reason other than that someone said “because I said so”. Because all unresolved architectural-dispensations should be subject to regular review, eventually someone will have the courage to tackle these problems – and we can then at last take action to resolve them. But until that happy day, we can at least ensure that they don’t shoved into the dreaded ‘too-hard basket’, where far too many important problems languish indefinitely without attention until they’ve already gone past the point of no-return.

Yes, it’s frustrating – very frustrating. Especially for those of us – such as most architects, perhaps, by now? – who can see where this mess is heading at present. Yet as architects, that’s probably the best we can do for now: so let’s at least do that, I would hope?

Over to you, anyway.

That’s perhaps the shortest summary to a request by Anthony Draffin, in a comment to my previous post ‘Not quite bus-pass day‘:

On a selfish note… It’s apparent that the common thread to dowsing, printing and enterprise architecture is your ability to look at a field holistically and apply logical thought to extract inconsistencies and errors, as well as looking at new ways of doing something more efficiently to meet the original aims. That’s a rare skill. Have you given thought to documenting how you go about doing this? While I imagine it’s the application of a number of taught skills, the way you put these together must be far from ubiquitous. Have you considered teaching this? Personally, as a 27 year old, I want to soak up as much of your approach and thought process as you’re willing to offer.

(Warning, this is going to be another (very) long one, mainly because there’ll be several case-studies.)

Amused that Anthony says he’s 27, because that’s about the age that I really got going on this. (A little earlier, actually: the first dowsing book came out when I was still 24. I used to have to apologise for not being the age people expected me to be, namely at least 75! )

I wouldn’t say that any of what I do is a ‘rare skill’, although it’s true that it’s not often acknowledged or respected – perhaps because, by its nature, it necessarily tends to be disruptive to any comfortable status-quo. I’ve been doing it since a very early age – for as long as I can remember, anyway, certainly way back in primary school – but it’s actually the standard approach used in most forms of design-thinking and the like, as taught in art-college or architecture-school or good engineering courses or even in the US military. It’s also what really happens in scientific research – see, for example, WIB Beveridge’s classic The Art of Scientific Investigation.

My own particular twist on it arose because I’m not much good at doing things, or making things (I tend to describe myself as ‘ambi-sinistral’ – the opposite of ‘ambidextrous’… ). Hence I tend to focus instead on the thinking behind the doing or making or whatever, always searching for the simplest way to do things, the most effective way, and so on. Kind of recursive, if you like, but it works well. Except for that little problem that it tends to be so darn disruptive…

Methods, mechanics, approaches

One place to start would be around skill itself, and the key themes of my Masters thesis, way back in 1976. Back there, I described a skill – any skill – as being made up of three components:

• the methods used in the skill
• the mechanics and other real-world constraints of the ‘objective’ context of the skill – that which is common to everyone
• the approaches, assumptions, mindset, paradigms, physical dexterity and other ‘subjective’ context for the individual (the ‘operator’) – that which is specific to the individual

What I found, very quickly, was that most people seem to focus on the methods used in any skill. But that actually misses the point: the methods used by any skilled operator arise from their own personal resolution of the mechanics and the approaches – the ‘objective’ and ‘subjective’ components of the skill. This is why using someone else’s methods doesn’t always work, and why ‘best practice’ can be dangerously misleading: the mechanics of the issue remain the same, by definition, but the context is different, and hence may well need different methods.

Focussing on method also makes it much more difficult to tease apart the separate threads of mechanics and approaches. It should be obvious that blurring the objective and the subjective is not likely to be a good idea, and yet that’s exactly what happens whenever we focus only on method.

In all skills-work – in fact in just about every human context – we also come face to face with Gooch‘s Paradox: “things have not only to be seen to be believed, but also have to be believed to be seen”. In an all too literal sense, in skills-work, reality is what we say it is: we actually create it, from nothing, or rather from a combination of imagination and hard work. (In this kind of context, it doesn’t really make sense to ask the question “Is it real or imaginary?”, because the only possible answer is ‘Yes’ – both, therefore neither.) To resolve Gooch’s Paradox, we treat the approaches – our assumptions and beliefs – as if they are part of the mechanics of the context. The danger is that we may forget that point about ‘as if’, and – if we think about those assumptions at all – think that they are part of the fundamental mechanics of the context, rather than an arbitrary choice to achieve some particular purpose.

Once assumptions creep in – in other words, whenever the subjective is blurred into the objective without conscious intent to do so – what we have is a context to which arbitrary constraints have been applied. Which places arbitrary limits on possibility. Which is kinda pointless, really. But the only way that we’ll be able to see that the constraints are arbitrary is to step back a bit, and re-separate the subjective from the objective. Hence a kind of recursive methods-to-look-at-methods, analysis-to-unpack-analysis, and so on. Which is what I do.

As I mentioned in my reply-comment, much of the ‘how I do what I do’ is already documented in various ways throughout the books, such as in Everyday Enterprise Architecture (which focusses on method in a business context) and The Disciplines of Dowsing (which looks more at ‘thinking about thinking’). The core of the latter book is the ‘four disciplines’ section (see the summary on the separate two-page reference-sheet) and the ‘seven sins of dubious discipline’ (currently listed only in the book): it wouldn’t take much work to translate those into almost any other context.

What I’ll use here is the Five Element / effectiveness framework that I use in a lot of my client-work these days (though often in somewhat covert form). It’s nothing special, in fact it’s little more than a recursive use of a pair of matched checklists. The first of these, as summarised in the ‘Five Elements’ chapter in SEMPER & SCORE, is a set of perspectives on the overall context:

• Purpose – what are we aiming to do here? and why? (see also the slidedeck ‘Vision, Role, Mission, Goal‘)
• People – who would be needed for this purpose? what skills and relations do they need? what are their mutual responsibilities?
• Preparation – what planning and logistics would be needed for this purpose? what assumptions and mindsets apply here? what are the key events that trigger action?
• Process – what needs to be done to achieve the purpose? when, how and with what would this be done? when is each process complete?
• Performance – what constitutes ‘success’, and for whom? what information and metrics are needed to keep everything on track? what would be needed to support continuous improvement?

The other checklist is a set of keywords on effectiveness, which are sort-of orthogonal yet also sort-of linked to the Five Element set. Listing these in the same order as above:

• Appropriate – is this on track towards the purpose?
• Elegant – does this support the human-factors in the context? (e.g. simplicity, ergonomics etc)
• Efficient – does this make the best (e.g. least-wasteful) use of the available resources?
• Reliable – can this be relied upon to deliver the required results?
• Integrated – does this help to link everything to everything else in a consistent way?

To assess a context, we can start from anywhere at all. The point is that we use these checklists not as linear lists, but as a reminder to keep looking round, bouncing back and forth between each of the interconnected themes in the two lists, looking at the context from every possible angle, and at every level from really-big-picture to finest-detail, building up a kind of hologram of the overall context, using one form of sensemaking to bounce off others, and so on. The book Real Enterprise Architecture provides a complete worked-example of this kind of recursive process as applied to whole-enterprise architectures.

Questioning everything

Looking back at the various areas I’ve worked in or with, there’s a fairly consistent pattern about what I’ve done and the sequence in which I’ve done it.

The first stage is just getting involved at all: taking the ideas and practices at face-value, and putting them into practice as if they are entirely ‘true’. That usually works for a while (not least because that’s what everyone else is doing).

I then allow myself to start to notice the niggles, the things that don’t quite seem to work, where ‘what it says on the tin’ doesn’t actually deliver what it says on the tin. The problem, of course, is that we can’t assess the validity of a logic from within the logic itself. Yet we also can’t actually work on the context without being inside the logic (or some form of the logic). This is where we hit Gooch’s Paradox head-on: we have to see it to believe it, yet also have to believe it to see it. The only way out of that dilemma is to start to use beliefs as tools – which can be kinda challenging…

In my experience, there are two parts to this:

• identify the big-picture theme for the overall context (the ‘vision’ or, as architects would put it, the unifying ‘parti‘)
• apply design-thinking tactics to question everything, switching beliefs in order to experience the context in different ways, and test the apparent results

The tactics to identify the key-theme(s) are usually straightforward. A classic example is the ‘Five Whys’: just keep asking “why?” until eventually we hit a ‘Because.’ – or rather, a real ‘Because.’ that makes some degree of sense, rather than one that’s just used to get people to stop asking awkward questions! These days I tend to look for a brief overview-statement – usually only about three to five words – that has a distinct three-part structure: it identifies the ‘things’ or concerns that matter to everyone in the context, what’s being done with or to those items, and why it’s deemed to be important. This gives us a stable anchor to which we know we can return, and against which we can test anything in the context.

Then, following standard ‘design-thinking’ tactics, we use a suite of ‘disruptive’ questions about the context – for example:

• what’s another version of this?
• what does this look like at a smaller scale, or a larger scale?
• what happens if we substitute something else for this?
• what happens if we invert some or all of the rules?
• is there a ‘term-hijack’ here? – does a small subset purport to be the whole, blocking the view to any other aspect of the context?

This is where things often get to be, uh, fun… – because it’s very common to find aspects of the context that a) don’t and can’t make any sense, b) clearly don’t work ‘as advertised’, in fact usually work against the nominal aims of the overall enterprise, yet c) there are key players with a lot of vested interest in ensuring that the status quo remains unquestioned and unchallenged. Don’t be surprised at this: it happens every time.

This is where a certain amount of dogged determination becomes essential… Also essential is a very clear, insistent emphasis on the big-picture, on holding to the overall vision for the shared-enterprise, because that’s often the only thing that will persuade people that there’s no ‘personal attack’ here, that instead the only purpose of the challenge and the enquiry is to make things work better, for everyone. (We have to be real about that, too: we need belief in ourselves in order to keep going, it’s true, but we need to keep questioning ourselves as well. It’s one reason why serious self-doubt is a chronic yet necessary occupational-hazard here.)

We need to keep hammering at this until we do start to get a clear separation between the mechanics of the context – which usually turn out to be surprisingly simple – and the approaches to the context – which are, by definition, individual and subjective. Then we can start to work towards new methods that work with the context under the current conditions.

The same seems to apply to just about any type of context: an individual’s personal challenges in developing their own skill, a business, a social context, a single conceptual tool, or an entire discipline.

Scattered throughout this weblog and the sister-weblog Sidewise, you’ll find examples of those techniques in use. Sometimes it’s reasonably straightforward, sometimes rather more controversial, but you’ll see in each case that’s it’s essentially the same principles, the same tactics.

I’ll also summarise here those same techniques in use in four different large-scale domains that I’ve been involved with over the decades: dowsing, desktop-publishing, domestic-violence resolution, and enterprise-architecture.

Example: Dowsing (1970s)

Big-picture theme: finding things, particularly where conventional (mechanical/physical) techniques either won’t work or are unavailable.

History: as a discipline, has been around ‘forever’, and often highly controversial – first from priests who regarded it as ‘the work of the devil’ etc, then later from would-be scientists who wanted to ‘explain’ it and couldn’t. When I first got involved, in the late 1960s, the field was pretty much moribund, with a random mixture of wild claims, erratic discipline, no formal methodology or theory-base as such, a long history of inconclusive scientific experiments, and the first flush of hype-laden New Age ‘thinking’ (if that’s the right term…). Most of the people involved were well into their sixties, seventies or more (which I, uh, wasn’t…). The key players consisted of a kind of closed ‘military club’ (water-finding being very important to an army on the move), a few variously-erratic practitioners (often with wild-eyed ideas about health and the like), a swathe of armchair-theorist camp-followers who talked a lot but did nothing, and a few people who really did know what they were doing and wisely kept themselves well away from the mess.

Conceptual mismatch: The most common assertion was that it was a special ‘innate’ skill that only certain ‘special people’ could do. Methods that often clashed or even flatly contradicted each other could lead to the same result; the same method used by different people would lead to wildly different results. Most of the theory in use – such as notions of ‘waves’ or vibrations’ or ‘radiations’ – was either meaningless or just plain wrong in terms of conventional physics. (Much of it did sort-of make sense as metaphor, but there seemed to be little understanding of the difference between active-metaphor and concrete fact.) Muddle-headed ‘New Age’ ideas merely added to the overall mess.

Vested interests: On the one side was the moribund ‘military club’, who liked the idea of being ‘special and different’, and/or the ‘right’ to tell the ‘lower ranks’ what to do, whether it made any sense or not. On the other side were the upcoming ‘New-Agers’, who were not going to let anything block their path to potential fame and fortune. (I’m being cynical, I know, but that’s exactly what happened.)

Assessment and action: Assess the purported theory, and scrap most of it: it’s meaningless. The only parts of the theory that do make sense and do have solid experimental backing revolve around perceptual psychology and physiology – particularly around weighted-sum merging of multiple channels (which is why there’s no single ‘the method’) and around edge-triggered reflex-response (which is why some experienced water-finders can’t find static water even when they’re standing on top of it). If some kind of tool is used, almost all of the tools act as some form of mechanical amplifier – if I move my hand a little, the tool moves a lot. (I’ve only ever found one case where that principle didn’t apply at all.) Materials, structures, theories and so on seemed to matter only because people believed that they did: in most cases, a simpler alternative would work just as well, if not better. Keep stripping it back to the bare essentials.

It is a true skill – but it’s not one that’s restricted to only ‘special people’. Instead, it’s a learnable skill: anyone can do it – though whether they may or will do so are entirely separate questions! (There was quite a lot of pushback from the ‘military club’ against the idea that ‘anyone can dowse’.) It’s also a skill that requires a lot of practice and a lot of discipline to get right. (Unsurprisingly, there was a lot of pushback from the ‘New-Agers’ on that point, and there still is – see the book Disciplines of Dowsing.) It’s also a skill which often requires a wide range of psychological ‘tricks’ to help people slide past Batcheldor’s ‘witness-inhibition’ and ‘ownership-resistance’ – in other words, “this isn’t happening, and if it is, it isn’t me”.

End-result: After a few months’ experimentation and subsequent practice over several years with a wide range of students, I’d stripped it down to the point where I could get most people started on the basics within less than two minutes, using two bits of fencing-wire from the garden as simple instruments. The notion that ‘anyone can dowse’ is now firmly established in the canon, and the teaching-methods that I developed (based on, self-responsibility, self-critique and continual-improvement) are still some of the most common currently in use.

Example: Desktop-publishing (1970s-80s)

Big-picture theme: getting ideas and information out into the public space.

History: I trained as a graphic-designer/typographer, and became professionally involved in typesetting in the late 1970s, with the early developments in smaller phototypesetting machines. (‘Smaller’ being a relative term here: the first system we bought required a room of its own and a separate darkroom, and cost more than my house.) The big bottleneck was keyboard input: the typesetting unit was capable of running much faster than a single operator. Although the internal technology was extremely complex, the input was not: some machines still relied on a very simple 6- or 7-channel punch-tape reader, using control-codes to extend the effective size of the character-set.

At the same time, simple but usable microcomputers were just starting to come onto the market. (My first microcomputer had only an 8-character LED display, hexadecimal keypad and 256 bytes of memory; the more usable Ohio Scientific systems that we first used for real had a proper keyboard but still only 8kbytes of memory, and the only storage was on audio-cassettes.) Almost all of these machines used a 7- or 8-channel character-set (ASCII or extended-ASCII); most also provided some form of direct data input/output for interfacing to other systems.

It seemed to me that there should at least be some way to use a basic micro as a much cheaper input-terminal, using simple code-translation and a standard hardware-interface. It also seemed probable that other people would want to do the same – taking control of their own publishing, driving a typesetter direct, or both. In the longer term, that could well be quite a large market.

Conceptual mismatch: This is best summarised by the phrase (exact quote, in fact) that “there is no interest in typesetting from microcomputers, and there never will be”. There were all manner of arbitrary demarcation-lines across the whole context, both on the pre-press side – such as between authors, publishers, unions and printers – and on the technical side – particularly between typesetter-manufacturers, computer-manufacturers and various hobbyists and hackers – most of which arose more from historical ‘turf-wars’, ‘positioning’, and mutual misunderstanding than from any concrete distinctions. On the union side especially, there were many arbitrary assumptions, based on the belief that technology could not and would not change, or if it did, it could not and would not be allowed to make any difference to existing processes or roles.

Vested interests: The entire context was riddled with vested interests, almost all of which were in conflict. A stream of intermediaries – agent, publisher, pre-press, press, retail – stood between author and audience. Typesetting-systems were expensive pieces of equipment, yet with not all that much to justify their cost: there was lot of money to made there, both from machinery-sales and from fonts and other consumables, and hence a lot of ‘need’ to protect those sources of income. Until IBM eventually stepped in, most of the microcomputer manufacturers were trying to establish themselves as ‘the manufacturer’, resulting in a plethora of mostly-proprietary, mostly-incompatible hardware and software non-’standards’ – at one point we had to buy two machines whose sole function was to read the two hundred or more different disk-formats used on the four distinct disk form-factors then in common use: 8″, 5.25″, 3.5″ and 3″. Weaving a path between all the different vested-interests and proprietary structures was, frankly, a time-wasting nightmare.

Assessment and action: On our first machine, we’d been told emphatically that it was physically impossible to connect a microcomputer; a weekend spent poring over technical specs and waving a soldering-iron around a bit on a prototype-board soon proved that ‘fact’ wrong, whilst the only software we needed at first was a straightforward lookup-table to translate between character-sets. It really was that simple. (We avoided warranty risks by using opto-isolators, so there was no electrical connection between the two machines.) For our later, larger systems – which were capable of typesetting a reasonable-sized book in less than an hour – the hardware-interfaces were already built in. This gave us ‘direct typesetting’ capability, but it still required operators to know – and use – the distinct formatting-codes for each type of machine.

The next step was to hide the complexity, using the format-code in common word-processors such as WordStar to trigger font-changes and the like. (I believe we were the first people to use style-codes, such that a single hideable code – *F1, for example – would change the entire style, including paragraphs, indents, font-family and so on.) At that point, people could use ordinary word-processors to typeset text: the first true precursor to desktop-publishing.

It worked, but there were still limitations. (Our main competitor, meanwhile, was using a mangled form of SGML which still required people to embed hard-codes in the text; in our system, all of the formatting could be invisible.) The main problem was that people couldn’t see beforehand exactly how much space any text would take up – a very important concern to two of our customers, who were producing page-spread books and partworks, Dorling-Kindersley style. Hence some serious code-hacking (all assembly-language, with multiple overlays to squeeze into no more than 40kb of memory) to create a post-processor that would copyfit line-by-line for the correct fonts and sizes, and output a symbolic result to a dot-matrix printer. This was probably the first viable attempt at a true desktop-publishing system – several years before Macintosh and, later, PageMaker.

End-result: I’m good at creating ideas and markets, and all the preliminary work that gets things going, but I’m not good at running businesses – that’s a different mindset entirely. Eventually we sold out to another pre-press company and (in an all too literal sense) I ran away, first to the US, and then onward to Australia. I believe it’s still running, and certainly made millions for the new owners. (I didn’t, of course.)

Example: Domestic-violence resolution (1980s-90s)

Big-picture theme: reducing and repairing the damage from social harm, particularly between individuals.

History: Fights and power-games between individuals in a domestic context have been part of the human story since forever, but had usually been largely covert and ignored as ‘a private matter’ for most of that time. It was brought into public notice in 1970s by women’s activists, most notably Erin Pizzey, founder of Chiswick Women’s Aid. Unlike Pizzey herself (who has always insisted that domestic-violence (DV) is a human problem, not a gendered one), most activists purport that DV is something that happens almost exclusively to women, and caused almost exclusively by men – so much so that some have called for the term ‘domestic-violence’ to be replaced always by the term ‘violence against women’. Most current law (e.g. US ‘Violence Against Women Act’), support-structures (domestic-violence help-lines) and formal theory (e.g. Duluth) reflect this assertion. I became involved in the field during the 1980s as a member of a pro-feminist men’s group who were taking up the feminist challenge that all violence was caused by men alone, and therefore men’s responsibility alone to resolve the (purportedly) ever-rising tide of men’s violence against women. The issues became more personal later when two of my lesbian friends asked me for advice after they had ended their relationship with a knife fight (without injuring each other, fortunately) but had been explicitly shut out from any help because no man could be blamed for the violence.

Conceptual mismatch: The theory was straightforward: men are the problem, women are the solution, and the only useful thing that men can do is blame themselves for everything that goes wrong in the world. Everything in my background supported that assertion, hence it seemed to make sense: self-blame had been a very deeply ingrained habit for me, going right back to earliest childhood. Yet the whole field seemed riddled with gendered special-cases: behaviours that were definitely violence if done by a man were, if done by a woman, either deemed ‘not violence’ or ‘indirectly caused by men, therefore men’s fault’. In the Duluth model, blame itself was classed as a form of violence only if done by a man, and only if the person being blamed was an adult woman: blaming of men (or in essence almost any other form of abuse of men), was explicitly not classed as violence. And the real catch was that, in terms of outcomes, it clearly wasn’t working: no matter how much we blamed ourselves, and blamed other men, the overall level of violence in the culture around us still seemed to continue to rise.

Vested interests: Looking around, it was very clear that there were a large number of players – mostly but not all women – whose identity and self-worth depended on putting men down, regardless of whether or not this actually helped women in general, or anyone in general. There were also very large sums of money, and large numbers of jobs, that depended on maintaining the assertions around women’s purported exclusive victimhood in this context.

Assessment and action: The first warning-signs appeared in one of our standard text-books, Paul Kivel’s Men’s Work: How To Stop The Violence That Tears Our Lives Apart, which is designed around a series of workshops for senior-school students. The book includes many oddly-unrealistic role-play scenarios in which an adolescent boy or young man is suddenly violent or abusive to a woman; yet the only real example of violence described in the whole book is an actual incident in which two girls had a full claws-out fight when one insulted the other in the classroom – and in which no boys were involved at all, other than to separate the warring parties.

After my lesbian friends had their knife-fight, we discovered that no violence-resolution material was available that acknowledged even the possibility that a woman could be a perpetrator of violence. The standard Duluth model defines violence as inherently ‘male’; on the Duluth Wheel, female pronouns are used exclusively throughout to indicate victim, and male pronouns exclusively for perpetrator, and mutuality (where both parties are both ‘perpetrator’ and ‘victim’ of each other and of themselves) – which clearly applied in my friends’ case – is explicitly denied. I decided to try a very simple thought-experiment: swap the gender-pronouns throughout, and see if it still makes sense in terms of real-world evidence and experience. It did: in fact for most of the Duluth categories of abuse it made more sense than the ‘official’ way round. Also – importantly – two key categories of abuse were absent from the original model: sexual abuse, and third-party-abuse. It became immediately clear that the Duluth model itself was structured as third-party abuse, primarily leveraged through other-blame – in other words, far from reducing violence and abuse, it was actually designed to increase it. (Whether that mis-design was intentional, or merely arose from incompetence and excess zeal, is a separate issue that I will not discuss here… – but the fact of its unfitness for purpose cannot be in any doubt.) A simple ‘de-gendered’ redesign resolved almost all of the structural problems, sufficient at least to satisfy my friends’ immediate needs.

That exposure of the extreme inadequacies of the original Duluth model forced our group to reassess all of our previous assumptions about gender and violence, and thence to look again at the research on whose purported facts we’d based those beliefs. I did two analyses of a much-published study on which Australian public policy was based – the first analysis on the public version of the paper and political assertions from it, and the second analysis on the original academic study, which took quite a bit of work to obtain, since it was not publicly available. Another colleague, as his MA thesis, undertook a meta-analysis of domestic-violence studies in Australia. The results were shocking. None of the original studies were based on defensible methodologies – in fact many were so riddled with basic methodological errors such as circular-reasoning that they were essentially meaningless. And in all cases, all of the methodological errors either inflated the female injury-rate or risk, diminished or denied the male injury-rate or risk, or both: there were no exceptions. In short, almost none of what we’d previously taken as ‘fact’ was fact at all. The only genuine facts we could establish was that domestic-violence was a systemic issue with some gendered overtones, and that although it that affected both sexes in different ways, overall it seemed to do so almost equally – though there were strong indications from hospital data and the like that the majority of victims were male, not female.

We then looked at public policy, and the provision of domestic-violence support-services. These too were based on the same fundamentally-flawed assumptions and the same unquestioned circular reasoning: women are the only victims, hence support-services are only available to women; and since only women use these services, this proves that women are the only victims. In some of our interviews we discovered that men who’d been abused – knifed, in one case – were referred to police for charges, simply because the models in use automatically deemed men to be the sole perpetrators, regardless of the actual context or evidence. In short, the entire domestic-violence resolution ‘industry’ it was, and still is, an unworkable and fundamentally dysfunctional mess whose structures and methods are all but guaranteed to cause far more harm than good: an archetypal example of the Shirky Principle that any institution will attempt to preserve the problem to which it purports to be the ‘solution’.

End-result: The domestic-violence ‘industry’ is the outcome of a classic example of a ‘term-hijack‘, in which a small subset of systemic issue is misframed as the whole, and strenuous efforts are made to deny or conceal any other aspect of that issue. In effect, the term-hijack converts a resolvable systemic context into a non-resolvable ‘wicked-problem‘, in which every attempt to resolve a problem is constrained by the structural myopia, inevitably making things worse with each iteration. Unfortunately, there are huge vested-interests in maintaining the term-hijack. Anyone who challenges it – as I and many others have learnt to our cost – is likely to come face to face with extreme violence from women who somehow purport that no woman is ever violent. It seems clear that resolving these structural problems would require a high level of honesty and humility from those players – an honesty that in most cases at present seems conspicuous only by its absence…

Some of the material I wrote is out there and in daily front-line use by others – with real success, according to the occasional emails I still receive on the subject. But to be blunt, after a decade of relentless ongoing abuse from almost all sides, I just gave up and literally threw away most of the work that I’d done… the structural dishonesties in this mess are so entrenched and so ‘political’ that I found it just too painful to be involved at all, and it still seems that resolving the mess would require fundamental shifts in societal attitudes and beliefs that would be unlikely to occur within my own lifetime. Oh well.

The issues are generic, though, and can be resolved at a more generic level. You’ll see how some of these exact same issues are addressed in the business-context in my book Power and Response-ability: the human side of systems and its accompanying ‘manifesto‘.

Example: Enterprise-architecture (2000s-to-present)

Big-picture theme: helping organisations and overall shared-enterprises become more efficient and effective (‘doing the right things right, on purpose’).

History: The main focus of enterprise-architecture is around the relationships between structure, purpose and business-execution.As a discipline, it’s been around for at least a century in various forms, such as Taylorism (‘scientific management’), operations-research and organisational cybernetics. I often describe it as based on a single, very simple idea: that things work better when they work together. Although my work often touched on it over the decades, I first became actively involved perhaps fifteen years ago, when trying to tackle issues around long-term knowledge-management in aircraft research. Over the past decade, most of my work has revolved around various aspects of enterprise-architectures.

Conceptual mismatch: The term ‘enterprise-architecture’ implies a very broad whole-enterprise scope. In recent decades, though, the term ‘enterprise-architecture’ has often been (mis)used to denote a very small subset of the real scope, relating to IT-infrastructure or IT-systems in general. This (mis)usage probably arose from a simple conflation of the term ‘enterprise- or organisation-wide IT-architecture’. The result, however, is a very serious term-hijack: the tiny subset of the overall enterprise represented by IT purports to be the whole, with all other aspects of the enterprise – including people, purpose, physical facilities and non-IT machines of any kind – either concealed or denied. In effect, it becomes all but impossible to discuss any aspect of enterprise-architecture without being forced to describe everything in terms of IT – even in contexts where IT-systems are either not relevant or not available.

Vested interests: There are huge vested interests in maintaining the story that ‘enterprise-architecture’ relates only to IT. Many, many billions of dollars are invested each year on IT-systems that purport to resolve inherently-complex enterprise-scale concerns such as customer-relationships, market-relationships, regulatory-compliance and the like. However, by definition, many if not most of these systems are incapable of resolving all aspects of the respective concerns, in effect converting them into non-resolvable wicked-problems; maintaining the ‘enterprise-architecture’ term-hijack makes it possible to conceal or deny the inherent dysfunctionality of the systems, instead maintaining the faith or fiction that the problems created can only be solved by yet another IT-centric system at yet further cost. There are also large vested-interests in training, certification and the like for IT-centric ‘enterprise’-architectures.

Assessment and action: The starting-point for assessment was a simple review of the term itself, deriving the natural-meaning via term-inversion. The ‘natural-meaning’ of a term is the meaning implied by the individual words of the term. The term-inversion here is ‘the architecture of the enterprise’: hence the natural-meaning is ‘anything to do with the structure and purpose [architecture] that underpin the emotional drivers and actions (the animal spirits of the entrepreneur”) in the shared context [enterprise]‘. The purported exclusive-association of enterprise-architecture with IT does not occur in the natural-meaning: in fact the role of IT in the enterprise-architecture is implied only peripherally, as a minor aspect of support for ‘the animal spirits of the entrepreneur’. In other words, what we’re dealing with here is definitely a term-hijack – and an extremely unhelpful one at that, because the constraint on the scope (i.e. ‘enterprise’-architecture constrained solely to IT aspects of the enterprise) has such a limited connection with the actual scope (which would naturally focus more around people than machines).

Most of my work in the past decade, and particularly the past five years, has been focussed on finding ways to highlight the term-hijack, to resolve the resultant problems and dysfunctionalities, and to create models, methods and frameworks to guide a true enterprise-scope architecture, in some cases all the way out to a global scale. The public outcomes of this work so far include several books, a couple of dozen conference-presentations and other slidedecks, and many, many weblog posts.

End-result: We are getting somewhere with this one. Most ‘enterprise’-architecture conferences these days do explicitly include some discussion of the enterprise-scope beyond IT, usually under a banner of ‘business-architecture’, and there’s much stronger linkage to true business-architecture models and techniques such as Business Model Canvas. The real danger now is there’s a tendency towards ‘business-centrism’ rather than ‘IT-centrism’ – in other words, where the architecture sub-domain of ‘the business of the business’ rather than the sub-domain of ‘the IT-systems’ becomes used as the base for yet another term-hijack. The crucial understanding that we’re still somewhat struggling to get across to most of the players in the field is that in a true enterprise-architecture, everywhere and nowhere is ‘the centre’.

But yes, we are getting somewhere with this one. Slowly…

Summary

So that’s what I do, and how I do it:

• explore a context that is of interest to me
• identify the conceptual mismatches that occur within that context, and that make it difficult to achieve effective results within that context
• identify the vested-interests that drive and maintain the current dysfunctionalities in the context, and, where possible, devise strategies and tactics to disarm and disengage those vested-interests
• assess the details of the dysfunctionalities in the context, and identify or design workarounds for those problems, and methods to work on the context when the dysfunctionalities are disengaged
• document the end-results in various forms, as appropriate

It’s a lot of work, and sometimes very painful work, but someone has do it?

A gentle warning on occupational-hazards

To anyone who might want to do this kind of work, I really ought to add some important caveats.

The work itself is actually not that hard. All it requires is a willingness to let go of assumptions, and tackle each of the issues with a rigorous attention to discipline, following the ever-changing rules of the different disciplines that apply at each moment whilst working in that context. Using beliefs as tools can be kind of challenging at times, but again it’s just another skill, and one that’s not that hard to build up over time.

It’s the social aspects of the work that are hard: sometimes very hard…

For starters, it’s often lonely. Very lonely. Part of that is because there aren’t many people who do this kind of work: at a guess, from what I’ve seen around the net and elsewhere, there may be as few as five or ten thousand people in the entire world who work in this space. Social-media does help to ease the loneliness a bit – the people I work most closely with are scattered literally across the entire globe – but it’s not the same as working in close proximity with close colleagues every working day.

Another part of the loneliness is that the feeling of loneliness – and likewise insistent sense of self-doubt – is actually inherent in the work. It’s almost an indicator of success: as Whitney Johnson put it in her HBR article ‘Disrupt Yourself‘, “If it feels scary and lonely, you’re probably on the right track”. To put it the other way round, the times when we feel most certain are probably the times when we’ve most likely missed the point. It’s hard, and it usually hurts, every single day: so if you can’t cope with a relentless, all-pervading feeling of failure, and yet somehow still create the required results, you really shouldn’t to do this work. There are plenty of other much easier ways to make a living, after all. (This isn’t a macho thing, “I’m tough” and that kind of garbage: in my own case, to be honest, I’m probably not suited to do most other kinds of work anyway. For me, though, there’s a real sense of ‘a calling’, an inner drive to do this work, whether I want to or not: and often that’s the only thing that keeps me going… )

Another crucial point is that whilst there’s a great need for this kind of work, there’s also a huge ‘anti-want’ for it. Every aspect of this work implies some kind of mythquake; and anyone who has a vested interest in the status-quo – which in effect that includes most of our would-be employers, amongst many, many others – will not want that mythquake to occur. It’s disruptive: it is, in a very literal sense, often anarchic. So for much if not most of the time, we’ll need to do the work ‘by stealth’, embedding it in other more conventional analysis-work or the like. Doing it ‘by stealth’ is often the only option if you’re an employee, and even then it can be risky: as one of my ProFuturist colleagues put it, “if you’re employed as a professional futurist, and you’re not being fired at least once every year or so, you’re probably not doing your job properly!”

In my own case, I’ve never been an employee: only ever a self-employed contractor, an independent consultant or running my own business. I’ve survived somehow, though often I don’t know quite know how – it’s certainly not an easy way to run one’s professional-life. But I’m well aware that’s not a viable option for many people, especially those with young families. If you are an employee, and you want or need to do this kind of work, you definitely need a Plan B – and work hard on building and maintaining your professional reputation, such that you can recover from being fired after that ‘one disruption too many’.

Another subtle problem that affects many of us arises from the fact that this work requires us to be very good generalists. The good part of being a generalist is that we’re able to learn fast and be interested in anything, at any level of the enterprise. The disadvantage is that, when people compare us to specialists, we almost always come off second-best – and the fact that we specialise in being generalists doesn’t seem to count, especially where the over-simplistic assessments of recruiters and the like so often come into play. In almost all of my contract- or consultancy-work in the past couple of decades, I’ve ended up doing a different (and much broader-scope) role than the one I was nominally employed for: the problem was that I somehow needed to employed for something in the first place, and that can be a real hurdle. So the catch for us is that we need to be at least as skilled as the typical specialist, whilst also being very skilled as a generalist. It’s not easy, and is one reason why the really good enterprise-architects tend to be older, often into their fifties or more – simply because it takes that long to build up the generalist portfolio and experience whilst embedded in what is (to be honest) often a complete waste of time and effort in a ‘required’ but irrelevant specialist role.

Overall, though, it’s probably the loneliness that hurts the most. But if you can cope with that, and with all of the other challenges of ‘the trade’, then yes, we definitely need you… come and join the club, perhaps?

Yet in reality there are many different threads of meaning in every narrative, and sometimes it’s the subtler threads – the ‘stories without words’ – that carry the most meaning. There’s an especially poignant example of this quoted by Disqus member ‘DDNAU‘ on one of Al Jazeera’s weblogs on the Libya crisis, in the immediate aftermath of the Tripoli uprising on 21 August:

A few hours ago, a news reporter said the TV station had an eyewitness to interview and said he understood the man wanted to remain anonymous. The man then spoke, saying he would give his name because he was no longer afraid. And he began spelling out his name, enunciating each letter deliberately. The news man became a bit impatient and cut him off before he finished, asking him what he was seeing at the moment. The man then told what was going on in his vicinity. The news man, intent on the action in the streets, seemed to miss the most important detail:  A Libyan man spoke his name freely in public, to the world, before describing the reality in front of him. That, to me, was as important a moment as all the others on this great day. That the Libyan people are now free to identify themselves and speak their views without fear for themselves or their loved ones.

Whenever we work with narrative, we need to remember to watch the context, listen for the deeper narrative – especially when a major mythquake is in progress. The story isn’t always in the words alone.

First, though, an essential read to set the scene: Don Tapscott’s article “The World’s Unemployed Youth: Revolution In The Air?” (Note that that article was posted on the Huffington site on 4 June 2011 – more than two months before the riots began.)

An anti-client is someone who in some ways shares the same extended-enterprise as the organisation in scope for an enterprise-architecture – the same space as any of the organisation’s clients. But unlike a non-client, who is in the same conceptual ‘enterprise space’ as the organisation’s clients but has no interaction with the organisation, an anti-client will actively oppose, reject or object to the organisation’s presence in that extended-enterprise. Many businesses will have ‘inherent’ anti-clients: environmentalists in relation to oil-companies or miners, for example. And far too many organisations create their own anti-clients, converting previous good clients into active ‘enemies’ – anti-clients – through poor service, misleading contracts and all manner of other minor dishonesties and ‘game-plays’ that are all too common in the business context and elsewhere.

A key point here is that in ‘the good old days’ of broadcast one-to-many media, when companies all but controlled all access to the airwaves or the press, an organisation’s anti-clients had so little leverage that the organisations could usually afford to ignore them. Some careful PR would keep everything ‘on message’ without too much effort, or cost. But when the internet, SMS and other media allow many-to-many communication, or even many-to-one, organisations find themselves in a radically different game, where there’s no possibility of ‘controlling the message’ – and where even a single aggrieved anti-client can cause huge reputational and other damage with one well-placed viral video. Suddenly, an organisation’s anti-clients can have more power than the organisation itself – a very significant point…

A kurtosis-risk is a risk in which the losses that eventuate from the realisation of the risk exceed the total apparent gains made by ignoring the risk. (It’s sometimes called ‘long-tail risk’ because it’s a risk analogue of ‘long-tail‘ opportunities.) The important point about kurtosis is that it is usually a knowable or identifiable risk: it’s not an ‘unpredictable’, but one whose risk-pattern can be identified within the drivers for the statistical distribution of risk.

The risks from poor customer-service represent an all too common example of a kurtosis-risk: there’s no way to predict which incident will cause a massive blow-up, but we can predict that poor-quality customer-service will lead to a blow-up at some point. And we can also predict the statistical distribution of the scale of the risk in much the same way. And for organisations, one of the key drivers for the scale of risk – in other words, the positioning of the risk on the long-tail, and also the likely loss when the risk eventuates – is the separation between and effective power (or lack of it) of the agents of risk, such as disgruntled (ex)-customers. Separation between agents of risk is a risk-divisor: when separation is high, the effective risk is reduced, or pushed further down the long-tail (but never actually disappears). Separation is at its greatest – and hence risk is at its lowest – when the organisation controls one-to-many broadcast; or, to put it the other way round, the risk-multiplier increases, and the risk moves ‘up’ the long-tail, with increasing availability of many-to-many communication.

So, if we put the two together, anything that risks creating anti-clients, in a context where the media balance shifts from one-to-many (broadcast) to many-to-many (peer-to-peer), represents a context in which the risks are increasingly likely to be unacceptably high. They can no longer be ignored: they must be mitigated. And the only way in which the risk can mitigated is to seek out and pre-empt or resolve any context in which anti-clients could be created.

We can now apply this an enterprise at a very large scale: an entire socioeconomic system.

First, what are the anti-client risks? It doesn’t take much effort to identify that the socioeconomic model in place in Britain creates huge alienation, particularly amongst young males. Real youth unemployment is up above 50% in many inner-urban areas; those young men have have literally nothing to do, no apparent place in the society, no apparent means to gain social-status or even the resources that they need to live, and no apparent prospects or hope for change. It’s the same drivers that lead to the so-called ‘Arab Spring’ – in other words, that lead directly to active revolt against the state. Some people have expressed ‘amazement’ that the youth are ‘destroying their own community’ – but the key point here is that, to the youth themselves, they don’t feel that they belong in that community. It isn’t ‘their’ community: they feel rejected by it – and hence go off to create their own sub-community, in rejection of the ‘host’-community, and, in an all too literal sense, parasitic upon it.  (The crucial point to understand here is that they don’t feel that they have any other choice.) In effect, they have become anti-clients to the entire society in which – in theory only – they supposedly live.

In short, a perfcect recipe for a social explosion.

We then add in two other factors. One is the kurtosis-risk: the fragility of the economic system means that quite small acts of rebellion create disproportionately-large disruption. This is the basis of all asymmetric-warfare – including terrorism. The other factor is the availability of peer-to-peer communication, which enhances both the effective kurtosis-risk and the the cohesiveness of the ‘aliented’ group as a group.

Now add in yet another factor, namely rapidly increasing prices for essentials (the initial trigger for the Arab Spring).

And add in yet another factor, namely a government hell-bent on ‘cutting costs’ by shutting down any ‘unnecessary’ social programmes, especially in socially-stressed areas – at the same time as apparently providing massive subsidies to those already perceived as over-paid and undercontributing. (It doesn’t matter whether this is ‘true’ or not: the crucial factor is whether it is perceived as ‘true’.)

What we end up with is ‘an accident waiting to happen’: a context in which the ‘unexpected’ risks – already dangerously high – were being exacerbated in almost every possible way. And the actions that were known to be needed to reduce the risk were not carried out, on the grounds that they would ‘cost too much’. As Don Tapscott’s article makes all too clear, it may be a shock when it happens, but it should not have been a surprise. As Camila Batmaghelidjh put it in a much-praised opinion-piece in the London newspaper The Independent:

It costs money to care. But it also costs money to clear up riots, savagery and anti-social behaviour. I leave it to you to do the financial and moral sums.

The riots are a classic example of a kurtosis-risk: the cost-savings from cancelling those social-programmes were perhaps a few tens of millions at most, whereas the insurance-costs alone are already running into the billions. Ouch…

That’s what happens at a societal scale. Now bring it down a bit, to the scale of your own organisation. Look at the context architecturally, in much the same way as above: what do you have in the current architecture that risks creating anti-clients? What are the kurtosis-risks for your organisation, particularly around anti-client relationships. It can be an interestingly scary analysis… but one that’s well worth doing. Preferably right now, before the risks for your organisation get any greater?