In the 1990s, a newly minted professor at Harvard Business School named Clayton Christensen began studying why good companies fail. What he found was surprising. They weren’t failing because they lost their way, but rather because they were following time-honored principles, such as listening to their customers, investing in R&D and improving their products.
As he researched further he realized that, under certain circumstances, a market becomes over-served, the basis of competition changes and firms become vulnerable to a new type of competitor. In his 1997 book, The Innovator’s Dilemma, he coined the term disruptive technology.
It was an idea whose time had come. The book became a major bestseller and Christensen the world’s top business guru. Yet many began to see disruption as more than a special case, but a mantra; an end in itself rather than a means to an end. Today, we’ve disrupted ourselves into oblivion and we desperately need to make a shift. It’s time to move toward resilience.
At the beginning of this year, I wrote that the theme for 2022 would be Surviving Change and I think that’s been borne out. We’ve had so many shocks to the system that all of the happy talk about disruption has become not only juvenile and naive, but downright irresponsible. If anything, we’ve learned how hard change really is.
Still, it’s undeniable that big changes are underway. Certainly, we’re in the midst of a major generational shift as the Millennials begin to take over, with the Zoomers coming up right behind them. Also the CHIPS Act and other legislation passed represent the biggest investments in our future that we’ve made for generations.
When I look back at my most popular posts over the last year, two themes begin to shine through. First, that change is hard and we need to be much more methodical in how we pursue it. Second, that we have an incredible capacity to fool ourselves that we need to be vigilant about. Take a look through for yourself and let me know what you see emerge.
“Don’t believe everything you think” has become something of a mantra of mine. It’s a simple idea, but desperately hard to accomplish. Once we get an idea in our heads, confirmation bias kicks in and we go looking for evidence that supports it while ignoring facts which would point us in another direction.
What makes the problem even more pervasive is that we tend to get our ideas from people around us who are exposed to the same information sources we are. So our social networks reinforce our biases and increase our level of certainty. That’s how we end up going in very wrong directions and making big mistakes.
One way out of the trap is to read widely. Looking through the books I’ve read over the past year I’m struck by the contrasting points of view and how different they are from past lists. Every year is an opportunity to learn more and see farther, which is what Borges probably meant when he said, “I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.”
For decades, economists have been obsessed with the idea of “enlightened self-interest,” building elaborate models based on the assumption that people make rational choices. Business and political leaders have used these models to shape competitive strategies, compensation, tax policies and social services among other things.
It’s clear that the real world is far more complex than that. Consider the prisoner’s dilemma, a famous thought experiment in which individuals acting in their self-interest make everyone worse off. In a wide array of real world and experimental contexts, people will cooperate for the greater good rather than pursue pure self-interest.
We are wired to cooperate as well as to compete. Identity and dignity will guide our actions even more than the prospect for loss or gain. While business schools have trained generations of managers to assume that they can optimize results by designing incentives, the truth is that leaders that can forge a sense of shared identity and purpose have the advantage.
Franz Kafka was especially skeptical about parables. “Many complain that the words of the wise are always merely parables and of no use in daily life,” he wrote. “When the sage says: ‘Go over,’ he does not mean that we should cross to some actual place… he means some fabulous yonder…that he cannot designate more precisely, and therefore cannot help us here in the very least.
Business pundits, on the other hand, tend to favor parables, probably because telling simple stories allows for the opportunity to seem both folksy and wise at the same time. When Warren Buffet says “Only when the tide goes out do you discover who’s been swimming naked,” it doesn’t sound so much like an admonishment.
Over the years I’ve noticed that some of the best business parables involve monkeys. I’m not sure why that is, but I think it has something to do with taking intelligence out of the equation. We’re often prone to imagining ourselves as the clever hero of our own story and we neglect simple truths. That may be why monkey parables have so much to teach us.
In an age of disruption, the only viable strategy is to adapt. Today, we are undergoing major shifts in technology, resources, migration and demography that will demand that we make changes in how we think and what we do. The last time we saw this much change afoot was during the 1920s and that didn’t end well. The stakes are high.
In a recent speech, the EU’s High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy Josep Borrell highlighted the need for Europe to change and adapt to shifts in the geopolitical climate. He also pointed out that change involves far more than interests and incentives, carrots and sticks, but even more importantly, identity.
“Remember this sentence,” he said. “’It is the identity, stupid.’ It is no longer the economy, it is the identity.” What he meant was that human beings build attachments to things they identify with and, when those are threatened, they are apt to behave in a visceral, reactive and violent way. That’s why change and identity are always inextricably intertwined.
“Practical men, who believe themselves to be quite exempt from any intellectual influences, are usually slaves of some defunct economist,” John Maynard Keynes, himself a long dead economist, once wrote. We are, much more than we’d like to admit, creatures of our own age, taking our cues from our environment.
That’s why we need to be on the lookout for our own biases. The truth, as we see it, is often more of a personalized manifestation of the zeitgeist than it is the product of any real insight or reflection. As Richard Feynman put it, “The first principle is that you must not fool yourself—and you are the easiest person to fool. So you have to be very careful about that.”
I still vividly remember a whiskey drinking session I had with a good friend in my flat in Kyiv in early 2005, shortly after the Orange Revolution had concluded. We were discussing what would come after and, knowing that I had lived in Poland during years of reform, he was interested in my opinion about the future. I told him NATO and EU ascension was the way to go.
My friend, a prominent journalist, disagreed. He thought that Ukraine should pursue a “Finnish model,” in which it would pursue good relations with both Russia and the west, favoring neither. As he saw it, the Ukrainian people, who had just been through months of political turmoil, should pursue a “third way” and leave the drama behind.
As it turned out, we were both wrong. The promise of change would soon turn to nightmare, ending with an evil, brutal regime and a second Ukrainian revolution a decade later. I would later find that this pattern is so common that there is even a name for it: the failure to survive victory. To break the cycle you first need to learn to anticipate it and then to prepare for it.
I recently visited Panama and learned the incredible story of how the indigenous Emberá people there helped to teach jungle survival skills to Apollo mission astronauts. It is a fascinating combining and contrast of ancient wisdom and modern technology, equipping the first men to go to the moon with insights from both realms.
Humans tend to have a natural reverence for old wisdom that is probably woven into our DNA. It stands to reason that people more willing to stick with the tried and true might have a survival advantage over those who were more reckless. Ideas that stand the test of time are, by definition, the ones that worked well enough to be passed on.
Paradoxically, to move forward we need to abandon old ideas. It was only by discarding ancient wisdoms that we were able to create the modern world. In much the same way, to move forward now we’ll need to debunk ideas that qualify as expertise today. As in most things, our past can help serve as a guide. Here are three old ideas we managed to transcend.
In 1989, just before the fall of the Berlin Wall, Francis Fukuyama published an essay in the journal The National Interest titled The End of History, which led to a bestselling book. Many took his argument to mean that, with the defeat of communism, US-style liberal democracy had emerged as the only viable way of organizing a society.
He was misunderstood. His actual argument was far more nuanced and insightful. After explaining the arguments of philosophers like Hegel and Kojeve, Fukuyama pointed out that even if we had reached an endpoint in the debate about ideologies, there would still be conflict because of people’s need to express their identity.
We usually think of strategy as a rational, analytic activity, with teams of MBA’s poring over spreadsheets or generals standing before maps. Yet if we fail to take into account human agency and dignity, we’re missing the boat. Strategy without purpose is doomed to fail, however clever the calculations. Leaders need to take note of that basic reality.
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