LOOK 

 “Don’t look at my finger. Look at the moon.”

(Derrick Jensen)

See the patterns

While some are still optimistically telling us to ‘‘carry on as normal’, ignoring the overwhelming evidence of impending social and environmental ‘tipping points’, most of us are wondering what kind of action makes sense as ice-shelves melt, forests burn and oceans warm.

But it doesn’t feel simple.

As our faith in institutions, governments and conventional ‘leadership’ falls away, where can we place our trust and what can we do?

I’m not sure that we can vote our way out of this.

So, rather than relying on large scale, ‘political’ responses, I’m looking at smaller, personal, more individual ways to promote change. In a world where we are not supposed to question such things, I’m learning how radical it can be to simply pay careful attention, to witness the way order and pattern influence our world, and to bring those observations to wide attention and scrutiny. Rather than waiting for our large-scale institutions finally to lumber into life, I’m looking at the structures within which our choices exist and how ‘activism’ might work. In essence, I’m trying to move my thinking and conversation ‘upstream’ to understand how we could see our world differently.

We’ve placed trust in ‘top down’ change long enough and the results we see no longer justify our faith. As our world becomes steadily hotter, our ecosystems more polluted, and our social structures more stressed, the imperative to look, and look again, is ever more urgent. As the focus on hubristic, narcissistic political gestures continually fails us, it’s time to consider more seriously how small scale actions can compound and interlink, how investment in community and connection can help bring new visions and voices to the world and how, together, we can put the power of a collective shift in priorities on our agenda.

Look inwards

We each make sense of our lives differently, treat information and data differently, we each see different ‘problems’ and act in diverse, often innovative ways to find solutions. Yet much of this ‘work’ happens just out of sight, remaining invisible to us as we habitually, routinely go about our ‘normal’ day-to-day lives. Inevitably, these invisible processes also lead us to collude through inaction; we play a part, however small, in contributing to the continuing conditions that cause difficulty in our lives.

For my part, I know that we need to reduce carbon emissions, but can’t yet seem to organise my life so that I don’t need a car. I (mostly) maintain a ‘plant-based’ diet but my inaction in the face of junk-food consumerism or abusive farming practices feels neglectful when we really need significant change. But as I try to shift my sense of what I should do and who I am in these decisive moments of choice, it can feel as though I am either staring into my own blind spots or continually seeing my own reflection. Either way, I struggle to see a viable, sensible way through the issues.

But it’s within our blind spots that the possibility of our transformation arises. The opacity we find as we attempt to bear witness to our own privilege, power, dependency and collusion is the stuff of lightbulb moments that can change who we are in the world. The key skill is one of ‘reflexivity’; developing an awareness of our assumptions and values as they actually appear in what we do rather than in our aspirations and plans for the future. (Hmmm… Despite my best intentions, I’m still driving my car. So, let me confront myself… Maybe I don’t care as much about climate as I say I do…?)

This kind of reflexive discipline is the work of a life time. How do I recognise my habits and ‘triggers’ as the pattern emerges and make a different choice in the moment rather than apologising to myself and others later. What is happening when I am mindlessly ‘one-clicking’ my way into consumerism? What payoff does that kind of immediate action offer me and how does it resolve my questions? Alternatively, how can I pause and genuinely listen in a conversation, rather than planning my own witty retort or drifting off into my own world. How am I paying attention to you, to friends and family, work colleagues or witnessing change in our environment? What stories do I tell myself about life and my own capacity to influence and promote change? What are the subconscious processes that limit me; that mean I mange to avoid my calling to make a difference?

Whether it is undertaken through meditation, journaling, drawing, photography, craft or artistic process, awareness or mindfulness techniques, this inward work is place for dedication and reflection. It takes time. And repetition. Our inner patterns only slowly reveal themselves. As I gaze into my own journals and photographs, I see how, over the years, my attitudes have shifted and the stories I tell about myself are no longer quite true. I can see my own inconsistencies and recognise the dissonances and dilemmas I experience. Developing a non-judgemental awareness of how I act in the world has raised questions and challenges for me. In some areas I continue to work with the questions and in others I have eventually come to feel more resolved and content. I’ve started to understand more of how I think, where my capacities lie and the consequences of seeing the world in my own particular, unique way.

As I set my personal development agenda, I’m asking myself questions about how I can step away from my constant tendency to rush to action, to do stuff. It feels as though there are other possibilities that I could explore. I can recognise my own assumptions of basic human goodness, so how might I, for example, gently encourage others to express their voices in the world in ways that are humane, generative and resilient? How might I help others to take confident steps into a new world?

Look towards each other

The temptation to rush into action, especially in such urgent times can so easily derail our efforts. It is easy for me to find some facts about climate change or economic injustice and use them as ammunition. But our efforts to ‘persuade’ can sound like ‘trolling’ unless we are able to develop constructive relationships where we are able to trust others others and not abuse them as the ‘target’ for our frustration. Perhaps even more important is that we can only be trusted if our ‘outer voice’ is congruent with our ‘inner voice’ and behaviour. As long as I still use my car, I’m unlikely to be taken especially seriously as a climate protestor (though I’m possibly more credible than the owners of the 1700 private jets used to fly into climate talks in Davos).

Conversations that change things are rare; most tend to replicate the same old routines and ways of talking to each other. But we often remember in detail a moment when someone ‘heard’ us, enabling in us a genuinely different sense-making and setting us on a different track. These are the moments when we feel a shift in our identity; the conversation isn’t necessarily about what we will do (though that might be the pretext), it’s about who we are, and often anchors us as we sway in moral or ethical dilemmas.

I remember a conversation with a work colleague about whether I should attend a particular meeting on a subject that felt important to me. His thoughtful response was brief: “You can pretend to care, but you can’t pretend to be there.” A little bemused, I attended the meeting and learned a lot about my sense of commitment and the value of being present for others, what it means to actually show up and exercise voice. His comment stays me.

It’s conventional to think that we should focus on the outcome of our conversations and meetings, but, as we come together, it’s usually far more helpful to consider who we should be in difficult or critical moments. I’ve learned to be suspicious of the ‘contracting’ rituals that many consultants undertake with groups; such ‘facilitation’ can often become subtly manipulative and controlling. Instead, I’ve become interested in how identity, control, voice and boundaries are ‘constructed’ as we speak - how ‘contracts’ are made and shift in the moment as we inquire into issues of mutual interest rather than what our facilitator deems to be important.

Perhaps it’s this idea of mutuality that is most tricky? Especially for those of us who are used to knowing or otherwise having control or influence. For any teacher, consultant, leader, manager or technical specialist, our ticket to the meeting is usually a consequence of what we know or the ‘tools’ we bring with us. We arrive in conversation to negotiate ideas and opinions, working from a position of knowledge rather than joining together to consider what we don’t know. Yet in our ever changing circumstances, previous expertise is a mask, a claim to status. If we are to genuinely meet each other, we need to be courageous and open in our efforts to support transformation in others.

Which is tricky.

Mutual transformation can only be exercised under conditions of mutual vulnerability.

Look outwards

In our organisational world, it can often feel that our change efforts are finished before they have started. Conditions change so quickly that our ‘project management methodologies don’t really stand a chance. While our framing of ‘productivity’ dictates against an ongoing, detailed inquiry into perpetual organisational or institutional change, working in the face of shifting requirements doesn’t mean we need to act randomly or without intention. The paradox is that closing down the conversation so that clarity or ‘deliverables’ can be more easily specified also shuts down the ongoing transformative potential of our work. As soon as we attempt to find clear focus, our ‘outcome’ slips into the shadows.

But, rather than working with detailed specifications, some of our most effective ways of sponsoring large-scale change rely on catalysing small conversations and linking them together, sparking numerous small fires and seeing which ones really catch light. Many of our ‘Organisational Development’ interventions work in this way; appreciatively and dialogically sponsoring new ideas or bringing submerged human values to the surface, then encouraging the shifts in power, resource and structure required to ensure that they can continue to thrive and grow.

In our digital age, ways of convening conversations and relationships are shifting. While the large ‘platforms’ relentlessly extract and exploit our data, and powerful interests can dominate the digital space, we can also use the technology to express our voices without the submitting to the control of publishers or paywalls. We have the power to rapidly share information, build connection and community, developing digital ecosystems of meaning that express our values and beliefs.

So, rather than depending on our old configurations of hierarchy and power, our intention should be to move upstream and find different principles for local organisation. He we can find the space to think differently about how we can frame our activism and what it might mean.

There are some big questions to address.

How can we offer ourselves as compassionate, thoughtful companions to friends and colleagues as we find our way together in an uncertain, anxious future?  What would it take to cultivate the conditions for trust in each other and the confidence to take all of our lived experience seriously? How might we find the resource to act in service of our world and all the creatures on our planet without resorting to the twin crutches of ambition or ego? The stakes are high and we can’t do what we’ve always done.

The risk in failure is that we will get what we’ve always got.

Finally: Look Again

My drafting and writing of this article was interrupted as a group of us convened a new conversation about our ability to transform large scale systems. In these moments, it can easily feel as though the easiest steps are in using our power and capability to shift something out there… an organisation, a system, a process. But when we work in that conventional way, we miss the grounding work of self transformation, of building relationships and working alongside friends and colleagues, not on them. As a consequence our attempts to shift structures and patterns slowly unravel on us. The small, repeating, recursive steps of local change; looking inwards, towards each other and then outwards, can bring transformational potential.

But the importance of the first step, that inwards look, is the one that is so easily disregarded. As we begin to bring unhelpful patterns to attention, the call to provide ‘deliverables’, to be seen as useful, helpful or agentic, detracts from our capacity to intimately support each other in the work, gently encouraging each of us to stand in our ground while finding confidence and dignity as interdependent, intentional, catalysts for change.

Notes:

Derrick Jensen’s work and writing has been a continual inspiration for me in my more radical activist thinking. He is deeply concerned with forms of domestic, corporate and ecological abuse and is typically seen as edgy and controversial. Have a look at A Language Older Than Words or his edited collection, How Shall I Live My Life?

For embryonic researchers, or those intrigued by the practice of Action Research, I can recommend the Handbook of Action Research (Concise Paperback Edition) edited by two of the exemplars in the field, Peter Reason and Hilary Bradbury.

Alternatively, Hilary Bradbury’s AR + website is a great resource.

If you haven’t read any of Susan Sontag’s work just start anywhere! I’m a fan since first reading ‘On Photography’ during my first degree. Which might give you a clue that it is a bit dated now, but still worth the investment!

This article is a first reflexive, ‘inward look’ as I start a research project at Hult Ashridge applying ‘action research’ to my work and practice in visual and artful methodologies. We know that artful interventions through visual interventions are often profound and deeply meaningful in a range of circumstances. My project aims to explore and theorise this kind of work.

The cycle of looking inwards, looking towards each other and looking outwards mirrors the processes of 1st Person, 2nd Person and 3rd Person Action Research. This is the approach to research that we adopt on the Executive Doctorate In Organisational Change at Ashridge. Gill Coleman, one of my colleagues there has written extensively on the democratic, emancipatory, collaborative aspects of Action Research. Check any of the links in her Ashridge bio or, alternatively, her chapter in ‘Methodologies for Practice Research’ (Costly, C. & Fulton, J.) might help.