Some things are easy to see as a spectrum.
Colour is an example. It is clear to all of us that there are an infinity of grey
shades between black and white, or of green between yellow and blue. Light is
another area where we can all see gradation. Rory McIlroy won the PGA
championship last night in something you could not really call light, but you
could not quite call dark either.
In our human urge to simplify, unless we
see something clearly as continuous, we model or assume it as discrete. Take
sound. Loudness and softness is clearly a spectrum, but what about musical
pitch? The piano has a series of discrete notes. But are there notes in between
these notes?
Actually, there are, it is another
spectrum. Sometimes, in choirs, directors ask us to try a difficult exercise.
We all start on one note (difficult enough for some choirs…). Then we have to
move up to the next piano note in sixteen pulses, gradually. So we are being
asked to sing sixteen notes, all different, all between two notes on a piano.
It is a tough test. I can sometimes do it if I concentrate very hard and if I
have good singers around me. The first steps are tiny, then after six or eight
steps we land somewhere half way, then keep moving on up. The exercise is fun,
and revealing.
Actually, the piano only offers an
approximation for perfect chords. The inventors chose sensible note increments
to produce something playable at almost melodic. But every time the piano plays
a major triad (do, mi and so), the so note is a little bit flat and mi a little
bit sharp. As singers we are supposed to be aware of this when singing
accompanied, and adjust our pitch accordingly. Adding in the tendencies of
various vowels to sound flatter or sharper than others, it is no wonder that
chamber singing is an art that people can improve upon for a whole lifetime.
That is for me a telling example. In order
to simplify, we often see spectra as lines of discrete points or even binary
choices. We also see circles or spheres as lines or planes – think of Gallileo.
It is just as well that we do, for otherwise everything would be so complicated
that we would be mentally paralysed. But we would do well to remember that
reality is usually the more complex option.
One
of the most dangerous examples is of how we think of each other. “Does he or
she really like me?” has been pondered by all of us at some stage in our lives.
The presumption is that our acquaintances fall neatly into two boxes, those we
like and those we do not. The reality is anything but – we like some things
about most people and dislike others. The overall score is usually somewhere in
the middle.
It would help us in our search for friends
or lovers to remember this. Rather than jump to a binary conclusion, too often
a negative one, we could accept a more nuanced picture. Then we could
acknowledge the areas of compatibility and work on the areas of potential
tension. We could maintain a good self esteem as well as avoiding any
arrogance. Our lives would generally be less fraught. Remember this also next
time you are tempted to conclude that your boss hates you.
Like many things, our trouble may have
started with religion. Though, in blaming religion, I should point out that
religion itself is a classic example of something with good and bad points
rather than all good or all bad. Many religious teachings are of simple models.
We are good or evil. We sin, and can be saved or damned. The world is a battle
between good and evil. Taking it a bit further, priests, especially infallible
popes, are perfect role models. Our religion is right, so all the others are
wrong.
Well, we only have to think a bit to know
better, even if we are religious believers. Such simplicity creates destructive
relationships, causes wars, and inhibits learning. It also clouds our view of
historical figures. Some presidents or kings were good, others bad, we learn.
The truth is most had their good and bad points and just did their best in the
circumstances they inherited.
We take this over-simplification into our
politics. We have allies and enemies, partners or competitors. This applies
between countries, companies or between departments or individuals in
companies. It is simple. But it does not often work.
The most obvious current example covers the
tensions in the Middle East. I have many American commentators supporting
Israel in whatever they may choose to do. This is justified by something binary
– either religious destiny, or historical retribution, or a separation of the
sides into right and wrong, or something so simple as supporting ones allies.
Well, I support Israel too. And I support the Palestinians. And I recognize
that fair grievances exist on all sides and that mistakes are sometimes made,
mistakes which ought to be condemned. Absolute support does not intelligent
politics or productive discourse make.
The same false separation into goodies and
baddies has harmed our approach to other conflicts. Iraq, Egypt, Libya and
Syria have not been success stories for this approach. In these cases, let us
also pay some credit to those leaders, like Obama, who acknowledge some of the
complexities. Even in Ukraine, there are complexities that partially justify
the Russian position, though a lot of it clearly requires condemnation.
My favourite example in corporate life came
in the arena of partnerships or alliances between companies. In my experience,
these often had massive potential, but usually failed. I often wondered why,
and now I think it is because most of us could not get our heads around the
nuanced relationship with the other side. We needed to cooperate and share, but
within a fixed framework. Both parties had their own goals, and there were also
shared goals. There was also the possibility of eventual divorce. For many of
us, this complexity was too much, and we retreated to binary positions, usually
to the detriment of the cooperation necessary to create value from the
partnership.
A different example concerns trade offs,
whether in business or our personal lives. We can usually see such choices as a
spectrum, with pros and cons. But in practice there can be more than two
variables in play. A choice may only hold good while other factors remain
unchanged, or we may need to make complex choices between three or more
variables. The more the variables, the more messy is the optimization.
In the Guardian weekly, Oliver Burkeman
calls these trilemmas. A good example is a project where we have to manage
quality, time and cost. Surely, something has to suffer. With their abundant
KPI’s, many modern managers struggle to even accept the need for such
trade-offs, and put their staff in situations where there is no win.
By the way, this is only one of many
wonderful ways of understanding life offered by Oliver Burkeman. I recommend
him completely, and intend soon to buy one of his books so I can enjoy him even
more. This week he raised the challenge of precrastination, that is wasting
time on trivial matters to “clear the decks” before embarking on the important.
Don’t most of us do exactly that? I certainly do.
Finally, back to politics, this time party
politics. In most democratic systems, we need parties, otherwise there can be
no practical order. But a good system encourages new parties to emerge every so
often, and somehow creates somewhere between three and six credible parties at
any one time. That way we can acknowledge that no party is ever likely to
reflect all of our views, and we can look for the one with the highest weighted
average, understanding that this is likely to change every few years.
Sadly, many democracies tend to end up with
bipolar systems, with only two strong parties, who then corral all the talent
and the funds to sustain their duopolies. The result is entrenched and failed thinking
and tribal politics, made worse where there is gerrymandering or advantages for
incumbents. It would improve US politics at a stroke if a third or fourth force
could appear. I am looking forward to the general election in the UK next year,
where we can hope for four credible options for the first time. Germany has
five, and is the richer for it. I dare to hope that technology and stronger education
will improve matters over time – though I confess I see few signs of it so far.
So let us all embrace grey, though maybe
not Christian Grey, a unipolar character if ever there was one. We know that
sometimes we need black and white to help us create order and make decisions.
That is good. But as often as possible, let us acknowledge the many shades of
grey, and let them into our thinking. It could help us in so many ways.
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