There have been some excellent articles in the Guardian Weekly recently about the Arab uprisings, many of them drawn from the Observer.
A couple of articles have discussed what it takes for an uprising to build enough momentum to become unstoppable. This is a very topical point, as the current action in Libya carries so much risk.
An uprising often starts with a single incident. The man who set fire to himself in the Tunis market is a classic example. That incident becomes a topic of conversation across the country, with sympathies often starting at a very micro level and then building into more widespread discontent with the ruling group, especially if they mishandle the incident.
Then you get some youth, some students, some active political people and some general troublemakers starting a series of demonstrations. That in itself is easily quelled. The problems for rulers start when the scale of these protests ratchets up to include the middle class.
When does that happen? Well for a start, the middle class have to have some latent discontent, deeper than the normal moaning we all have about any government. If all we can complain about are some thuggish tactics and rulers lining their pockets, the middle class won’t join in. If the thuggish tactics are so widespread that middle class people know victims personally that is more serious. And if middle class people see economic suffering of their own kind – maybe their children or less well off relatives – then they may act. In the current Arab cases, the role of steeply rising food prices should not be underestimated.
Then, there is the role of police, army and secret police. Once they cut the rug from under the regime, the game is up. Facebook and the like have had an impact as a catalyst – it has become easier to communicate informally, widely and safely.
If the latent discontent is there, the response of the state to the early protests becomes crucial, and it is a hard balance to strike. Bribes might work, but only if the latent discontent is mild enough. Brutality might work too, if it is focused enough. But too passive a response takes away the risk of joining in, while unfocused brutality may simply create a rage which brings people out in solidarity despite the risk.
In Libya we now reach an extra stage. The middle class, at least in Tripoli, has yet to declare rebellion, and the army and secret police are largely intact too. And Gaddafi has been handed a joker, in the form of foreign interference. The middle class can be relied upon to be patriotic, and foreign airplanes are generally an affront to patriotism. Many things amazed me during the time of the Iraq invasion, but the thing that astounded me most was the belief among the US troops that they would be welcomed in the streets.
So, Libya is now very delicate indeed. Gaddafi will be irrational but ruthless cunning. The international forces will be cautious and limited by fickle public support. This could get nasty.
It is tempting to think of people under repressive regimes as being rather cowardly. Perhaps we think we would take action ourselves, joining the rebellions at an early stage?
I think this misunderstands the way our minds work. Most of the time, we are driven more by avoiding disaster rather than seeking tough potential opportunities. In many situations, we weigh the risk of action more heavily than the possible benefit. I think if we look hard and honestly we can find examples from our own past. Perhaps a neighbourhood gang was acting anti-socially or with racism, and we chose to ignore rather than intervene? Perhaps people at our work were breaking laws or treating fellow employees badly?
In these situations, acting also tends to become harder rather than easier over time. We scoff at the Germans for embracing Hitler but I’m not sure other so-called educated nations would not have done the same.
Even if someone joining a rebellion doesn’t fall prey to the secret police, it is far from obvious that life after Gaddafi will be a major improvement on life now. I saw this myself in the early 1990’s in Eastern Europe. True, the people had some freedom, and indeed the long-term result of the revolutions has been of net benefit, at least to younger generations. But freedom doesn’t count for much when the electricity only works for two hours per day and basic healthcare is suddenly unaffordable. Which is better, a shop with only five items but all affordable, or one with a hundred, all out of reach? These were the initial outcomes in Eastern Europe.
At least we are mature enough not to fall for the patriotism card. Or are we? I’m convinced that the fuss in the UK about prisoners having the vote is entirely because the directive came from a foreign body. More trivially, think back to England losing out on the 2018 World Cup – even seasoned commentators left their brains somewhere then.
And, despite Facebook, we can still be manipulated by our establishments. The craven coverage of the Libya operation on British television rings like propaganda to me, with MOD statements accepted without challenge, and the prescribed language (allies, coalition, international community) used all the time. Why has no commentator asked a military expert whether Libya could strike us, or at least Sicily? My suspicion is because the question is uncomfortable and the establishment has decreed it off limits. And of course media manipulation in Libya will be many times more pervasive and long-lasting than what we see here.
So, tipping points come a little easier nowadays, but are still hard to reach. And, putting myself in the shoes of a middle class worker in Tripoli, listening in fear to foreign airplanes over the head of my kids each night, I think I can see why.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Simpler Living
Post separation and then post retirement, one of the things I promised myself was to live more simply. That is a statement easy to make but hard to explain. This morning I was asked what I actually meant. So I spent some time thinking about it.
The context was having just returned from a fabulous two week holiday in Mexico, partly spent at a singing workshop. Is that very simple? Then I thought about having affairs in multiple countries, with all the tax and other ramifications. Simple?
Some parts of life are simpler than others. Yet my life does feel simpler overall, and not just because I no longer spend half my waking week in an office. Why is this? What are essential components of a simpler life? Here are some ideas.
Consciously partaking of the free or easy things on offer and really savouring them is a big part of it. Birdsong, spring flowers, seasons, sunshine, seaside. Sleeping, bathing. The smiles, looks, sentiments of people, sharing a joke or a compliment. Reading, writing, listening to words or music, singing. Tasting the first food of the day. Deep companionship of loved ones. Seeking company of older and younger people. Reflection. None of these things cost very much and many are readily available to most of us. Yet we sometimes take them all for granted, and in the end they become so much background music, unless we consciously stop that from happening. Rediscovery of those simple pleasures is an important component of finding a simple life.
Then there is what is excluded from a simple life. Losing sight of contentment in a rush of ambition. Coveting what we miss rather than appreciating what we have. Joining a competition or a queue or a perceived game of status just because it is there and others choose to play. Taking on so many things than none of them ever has any quality or pleasure. Spending so much effort on planning that little is left for actually doing or enjoying. Judging others and complaining rather than accepting with tolerance. Rushing to fill every moment, rather than being flexible and open to spontaneous adventures.
Mostly simpler life as I see it is an attitude. Taking life as it comes, living for the here and now, being aware of our human and other natural surroundings, respectful of them and feeling blessed from them.
I looked up others’ ideas on the web. While there are many good ideas residing under the umbrella of a simple life, many of these are not part of my idea of simplicity.
Simplicity does not have to be puritan or laced with self denial. Nor does it have to be saintly, still less chaste. Yes, monks live simple lives. But simple lives do not have to be like those of monks.
Simple also does not have to mean sedentary or dull. We can be active and simple. Just not so active that we lose all perspective. Running is great. Compulsive running is fine too if it gives pleasure and helps reflection. But a painful pursuit of ever more fitness? I am not so sure.
Simple can also mean fewer possessions, but I am not sure if that is essential. Renting rather than buying in pursuit of simplicity can make sense. Doing without modern technology feels more like self denial to me, and I don’t really see the point. Hoarding items rather than buying something relatively cheap when it is needed even seems contrary to simple principles, as the items need to be stored and indexed. A healthy and practical view on chucking things out feels simpler to me, even if that entails some waste and might not always help the planet as much.
Some seem to equate simplicity with self sufficiency, like Tom and Barbara in The Good Life all those years ago. Even though that was fiction, I fear that the complexity of the lives they ended up with might indeed be where this quest would often end. By all means take on an allotment, but self sufficiency? In today’s developed world, that hardly feels like a recipe for simplicity.
Simple doesn’t mean frugal or poor either, though it is hard to reconcile simplicity with taking on lots of debt, or virulent acquisition of money or assets for its own sake.
What about service? Should a simple life always include giving? Giving is good, and service is fulfilling for its own sake, so many simpler lives will entail an element of service, though I don’t see it as essential.
So I think I’ll keep my own notion of simplicity limited to the few concepts I listed above. I have to be careful that simplicity does not come to mean much the same as privilege, a result of relative wealth in money and time. It will be much harder to pursue simplicity in Libya, or North-East Japan or even in Liverpool. It will also be tricky for new parents or people setting out on careers. How we define and act out simplicity will differ through our life phases, yet I believe most of us have the opportunity to make our lives simpler than they are today. By doing so we will get more out of our lives as a result, and I don’t think we would do any harm to GDP or competitiveness either, since our productivity would rise.
How does my current life measure up? Rather well I think. A holiday in Mexico with some singing included is a pleasure, and not contrary to simple principles if not repeated too often. As for the three tax jurisdictions, that is not so ideal, so there is something I need to work on.
So, thanks for the question, and the chance to think about this. I wonder how my feelings about this will change over time. I recommend everyone to define a simple life for themselves, and to audit it against reality. If there is a gap – and for most of us there is likely to be a big gap – then take some decisive action to redress the balance.
The context was having just returned from a fabulous two week holiday in Mexico, partly spent at a singing workshop. Is that very simple? Then I thought about having affairs in multiple countries, with all the tax and other ramifications. Simple?
Some parts of life are simpler than others. Yet my life does feel simpler overall, and not just because I no longer spend half my waking week in an office. Why is this? What are essential components of a simpler life? Here are some ideas.
Consciously partaking of the free or easy things on offer and really savouring them is a big part of it. Birdsong, spring flowers, seasons, sunshine, seaside. Sleeping, bathing. The smiles, looks, sentiments of people, sharing a joke or a compliment. Reading, writing, listening to words or music, singing. Tasting the first food of the day. Deep companionship of loved ones. Seeking company of older and younger people. Reflection. None of these things cost very much and many are readily available to most of us. Yet we sometimes take them all for granted, and in the end they become so much background music, unless we consciously stop that from happening. Rediscovery of those simple pleasures is an important component of finding a simple life.
Then there is what is excluded from a simple life. Losing sight of contentment in a rush of ambition. Coveting what we miss rather than appreciating what we have. Joining a competition or a queue or a perceived game of status just because it is there and others choose to play. Taking on so many things than none of them ever has any quality or pleasure. Spending so much effort on planning that little is left for actually doing or enjoying. Judging others and complaining rather than accepting with tolerance. Rushing to fill every moment, rather than being flexible and open to spontaneous adventures.
Mostly simpler life as I see it is an attitude. Taking life as it comes, living for the here and now, being aware of our human and other natural surroundings, respectful of them and feeling blessed from them.
I looked up others’ ideas on the web. While there are many good ideas residing under the umbrella of a simple life, many of these are not part of my idea of simplicity.
Simplicity does not have to be puritan or laced with self denial. Nor does it have to be saintly, still less chaste. Yes, monks live simple lives. But simple lives do not have to be like those of monks.
Simple also does not have to mean sedentary or dull. We can be active and simple. Just not so active that we lose all perspective. Running is great. Compulsive running is fine too if it gives pleasure and helps reflection. But a painful pursuit of ever more fitness? I am not so sure.
Simple can also mean fewer possessions, but I am not sure if that is essential. Renting rather than buying in pursuit of simplicity can make sense. Doing without modern technology feels more like self denial to me, and I don’t really see the point. Hoarding items rather than buying something relatively cheap when it is needed even seems contrary to simple principles, as the items need to be stored and indexed. A healthy and practical view on chucking things out feels simpler to me, even if that entails some waste and might not always help the planet as much.
Some seem to equate simplicity with self sufficiency, like Tom and Barbara in The Good Life all those years ago. Even though that was fiction, I fear that the complexity of the lives they ended up with might indeed be where this quest would often end. By all means take on an allotment, but self sufficiency? In today’s developed world, that hardly feels like a recipe for simplicity.
Simple doesn’t mean frugal or poor either, though it is hard to reconcile simplicity with taking on lots of debt, or virulent acquisition of money or assets for its own sake.
What about service? Should a simple life always include giving? Giving is good, and service is fulfilling for its own sake, so many simpler lives will entail an element of service, though I don’t see it as essential.
So I think I’ll keep my own notion of simplicity limited to the few concepts I listed above. I have to be careful that simplicity does not come to mean much the same as privilege, a result of relative wealth in money and time. It will be much harder to pursue simplicity in Libya, or North-East Japan or even in Liverpool. It will also be tricky for new parents or people setting out on careers. How we define and act out simplicity will differ through our life phases, yet I believe most of us have the opportunity to make our lives simpler than they are today. By doing so we will get more out of our lives as a result, and I don’t think we would do any harm to GDP or competitiveness either, since our productivity would rise.
How does my current life measure up? Rather well I think. A holiday in Mexico with some singing included is a pleasure, and not contrary to simple principles if not repeated too often. As for the three tax jurisdictions, that is not so ideal, so there is something I need to work on.
So, thanks for the question, and the chance to think about this. I wonder how my feelings about this will change over time. I recommend everyone to define a simple life for themselves, and to audit it against reality. If there is a gap – and for most of us there is likely to be a big gap – then take some decisive action to redress the balance.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Receiving Feedback
We have to improve to grow. We all have great scope to improve. Receiving, interpreting and acting on feedback is one of the most effective ways to improve. Yet, sadly, most of us are not very good at it.
Firstly, we tend to associate feedback with verbal or written comments of others, often through an appraisal type situation. That is an important and very structured way to receive feedback, but not the only one. Far more common and accessible is feedback from our own senses. Keeping those senses open is the first key to success.
My favourite example of this is leading a musical rehearsal or performance, something I am trying to develop (from a very low base). I have never been on a faster learning curve in my life, which is one reason I derive so much pleasure from the activity. Leading a rehearsal involves so many overlapping skills, and the feedback available is plentiful and instant, in the form of the sound produced and the faces producing it. There is also ample scope to experiment.
When conducting, I am amazed how tiny changes can lead to massive differences in result. As a small example, holding your hands a little lower tends to lead to a choir singing with more support from their body (but, unfortunately, also to complaints from the accompanist that they can’t see the beat). As a beginner, it is truly daunting to see how many dimensions are in play and how far there is to travel on the improvement journey.
Conducting and singing help me to use my senses better in other fields (once again, from a very low base). We receive feedback from almost everything we say or do, if only we are looking out for it. You don’t have to be a politician or business person to be able to benefit from smarter presentation of your ideas. At school we learn to write, but less to speak well, yet the latter has far more impact on our effectiveness through life. Becoming aware of the impact of what we are saying, and in experimenting with subtle differences, is a massive learning opportunity for all of us. As I have been told countless times, your body language while listening matters too.
Nowadays, we can use technology to obtain more feedback. If we are singers, we can record ourselves, no matter how painful the experience. If premier league footballers, we can find out an amazing variety of things, including our pass accuracy, our footprint through a game and how far we’ve run. While on football, did you notice that Jose Mourinho has passed nine seasons without losing a single home league game? To put this milestone in context, consider that in the last nine completed seasons, Manchester United lost 18 home league games.
So there is plenty of feedback out there without having to ask. But we can usually do better in how and when we ask as well, and also how we learn from formal appraisals.
Just as it is good advice to offer feedback in the moment, so it is a good idea to request feedback often and quickly. You don’t have to ask the boss, you can ask any witness. Indeed a neutral observer may have had a chance to notice more, especially if you pre-warned them. It is a great idea to buddy up with a colleague in your work team, and to make a habit of offering each other feedback whenever possible. I’m amazed how rarely this happens, for it is a winning strategy for all sides and so easy to do. I think one reason is the old hierarchical notion that only the boss (or customer) can give feedback.
The most common problem with feedback is its lack of candid detail. A first response to a request is usually very basic, something like “very good”. We tend to open with this because we are not sure the other party really wants the full truth, and is rather merely seeking reassurance. So make plain you want more. Ask detailed questions not just for an overall summary. Remember also to explore your strengths as well as your improvement opportunities. Maximising strengths gives better payback than working on faults, and is much more fun as well.
Most important is the technique of multiple probing. The initial feedback will almost always just be reassurance. The first probe may well be the same. The second one starts to allow the other party to conclude that you really want candour, but will still be superficial. Only by the fourth or fifth probe does the useful stuff start to emerge. Go to this level, time after time. The effort will repay itself.
A final tip is to stop the excuses. Starting as children, we develop the habit of making excuses. During an appraisal, it is common for someone to spend far more effort trying to rationalise why they said or did something than they do absorbing the lessons. We all do it, as an inbuilt defence mechanism. Especially when we have a tough relationship with the boss, we look for mitigation, for context, and even for reasons to disregard the feedback, for example that they don’t like or understand us. Tough relationships offer the most opportunities to learn, if we remain open.
To stop the excuses, just force yourself to shut up for thirty seconds, except for probes or requests for details or ideas to correct. Never say but. Always say thank you. Then reflect, learn, and probe further. Rebuttal or explanation can come later.
I’ll finish with conductors. Just because there is so much feedback available without asking doesn’t make it wrong to ask. I’ve had the chance to interview many conductors over the last year. My favourite question was to ask how they continued to improve, since it showed how few took the trouble. They gave answers about trying different repertoire or going on workshops, but few ever took the trouble to buddy up with a peer, leave alone to ask their choir. Professional snobbery at work here I fear, and the same will apply to most professions.
Firstly, we tend to associate feedback with verbal or written comments of others, often through an appraisal type situation. That is an important and very structured way to receive feedback, but not the only one. Far more common and accessible is feedback from our own senses. Keeping those senses open is the first key to success.
My favourite example of this is leading a musical rehearsal or performance, something I am trying to develop (from a very low base). I have never been on a faster learning curve in my life, which is one reason I derive so much pleasure from the activity. Leading a rehearsal involves so many overlapping skills, and the feedback available is plentiful and instant, in the form of the sound produced and the faces producing it. There is also ample scope to experiment.
When conducting, I am amazed how tiny changes can lead to massive differences in result. As a small example, holding your hands a little lower tends to lead to a choir singing with more support from their body (but, unfortunately, also to complaints from the accompanist that they can’t see the beat). As a beginner, it is truly daunting to see how many dimensions are in play and how far there is to travel on the improvement journey.
Conducting and singing help me to use my senses better in other fields (once again, from a very low base). We receive feedback from almost everything we say or do, if only we are looking out for it. You don’t have to be a politician or business person to be able to benefit from smarter presentation of your ideas. At school we learn to write, but less to speak well, yet the latter has far more impact on our effectiveness through life. Becoming aware of the impact of what we are saying, and in experimenting with subtle differences, is a massive learning opportunity for all of us. As I have been told countless times, your body language while listening matters too.
Nowadays, we can use technology to obtain more feedback. If we are singers, we can record ourselves, no matter how painful the experience. If premier league footballers, we can find out an amazing variety of things, including our pass accuracy, our footprint through a game and how far we’ve run. While on football, did you notice that Jose Mourinho has passed nine seasons without losing a single home league game? To put this milestone in context, consider that in the last nine completed seasons, Manchester United lost 18 home league games.
So there is plenty of feedback out there without having to ask. But we can usually do better in how and when we ask as well, and also how we learn from formal appraisals.
Just as it is good advice to offer feedback in the moment, so it is a good idea to request feedback often and quickly. You don’t have to ask the boss, you can ask any witness. Indeed a neutral observer may have had a chance to notice more, especially if you pre-warned them. It is a great idea to buddy up with a colleague in your work team, and to make a habit of offering each other feedback whenever possible. I’m amazed how rarely this happens, for it is a winning strategy for all sides and so easy to do. I think one reason is the old hierarchical notion that only the boss (or customer) can give feedback.
The most common problem with feedback is its lack of candid detail. A first response to a request is usually very basic, something like “very good”. We tend to open with this because we are not sure the other party really wants the full truth, and is rather merely seeking reassurance. So make plain you want more. Ask detailed questions not just for an overall summary. Remember also to explore your strengths as well as your improvement opportunities. Maximising strengths gives better payback than working on faults, and is much more fun as well.
Most important is the technique of multiple probing. The initial feedback will almost always just be reassurance. The first probe may well be the same. The second one starts to allow the other party to conclude that you really want candour, but will still be superficial. Only by the fourth or fifth probe does the useful stuff start to emerge. Go to this level, time after time. The effort will repay itself.
A final tip is to stop the excuses. Starting as children, we develop the habit of making excuses. During an appraisal, it is common for someone to spend far more effort trying to rationalise why they said or did something than they do absorbing the lessons. We all do it, as an inbuilt defence mechanism. Especially when we have a tough relationship with the boss, we look for mitigation, for context, and even for reasons to disregard the feedback, for example that they don’t like or understand us. Tough relationships offer the most opportunities to learn, if we remain open.
To stop the excuses, just force yourself to shut up for thirty seconds, except for probes or requests for details or ideas to correct. Never say but. Always say thank you. Then reflect, learn, and probe further. Rebuttal or explanation can come later.
I’ll finish with conductors. Just because there is so much feedback available without asking doesn’t make it wrong to ask. I’ve had the chance to interview many conductors over the last year. My favourite question was to ask how they continued to improve, since it showed how few took the trouble. They gave answers about trying different repertoire or going on workshops, but few ever took the trouble to buddy up with a peer, leave alone to ask their choir. Professional snobbery at work here I fear, and the same will apply to most professions.
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