This essay is part of a Circles in Time series called ‘Seeing Ourselves as Systems’. Sign up here to get access to future posts.
Change is an inherent part of what I am.
In some sense I am nothing but change. From the mitosing cells in my hair follicles to the plastic neural clusters that shape my sense of self.
I am a colony of constant change.
If I step back and take a systems perspective, what I am is this ceaseless flow of energy moving through a bounded network of biochemical processes, which allow for regeneration and perpetuation within an autopoietic pattern.
And of course, this bounded network of flowing energy doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It is an open system, interacting and interdepending on a continuously changing environment.
That’s me. Perpetual movement. Ceaseless change. An emergent, adaptive and self-sustaining ripple amidst an ocean of complexity.
Yet, so often I deceived myself into believing I am simpler than this…
That change is simpler than this.
As a result, I mistakenly chase static images manufactured by my conceptual mind, and follow prescriptive guides with predefined paths to attain such images.
The delusion is a harmful one, yet oh so alluring and easy to fall into.
My sense is that at the root of the delusion is a deep misunderstanding about the nature of change. Especially change within the context of personal development and self-improvement.
To make sense of the misunderstanding, it is useful to distinguish three kinds of change, and how they differ from one another.
The three kinds of change include:
Static Change
Dynamic Change
Complex Change.
STATIC CHANGE
The easiest form of change to understand is static change.
I have a pot plant that is sitting on a table in the corner of my lounge. As a result of not getting much light, it isn’t looking too healthy. So I decide to move it to another corner of the room where the sunlight shines throughout the day. I check on it the next day, and I can see subtle signs in its leaves that the plant is looking healthier.
We could believe that the the plant has changed from one state to another because of an external intervention—namely moving it to get slightly more sunlight exposure.
Static change is inherently comparative. We look at the state of system before a particular intervention and then again after the intervention, and compare the two states. Voilà! Change.
From this perspective, change is a one-dimensional shift. The state of the system could be described in one way, and now it is different because some external force has acted on it to make it change.
Thinking about change as a transition from one state to another is useful in determining whether an intervention has an impact on a situation or a system state, but it can’t provide us with much more than that.
DYNAMIC CHANGE
We can also explore change as a movement along a predictable, measurable arc from one point to another.
I have vegetables that I want to grow in a small, closed-off greenhouse. My goal is to grow the vegetables to the point that they can be harvested and turned into a delicious meal for me and some friends.
I know the variables that are important (nutrient-rich soil, compost, sunlight, water, etc.). I have a timeline, milestones and a specific checklist of daily tasks that need to be completed at specific intervals. There may be slight adjustments along the way, but I know that if I follow my protocol, I will hit my milestones and achieve my goal within a set time period.
This movement, along a planned path, can be understood as dynamic change. The belief is that we can map out a series of actions that will move us towards a set target.
Strategic planning, accountability structures, project management that depends on specific processes, milestones and expectations are examples of a belief in dynamic change. Goals are measurable, specific and clearly defined. Success or failure is obvious.
This approach to change works if we can understand, predict and control all the variables along the path from our starting point to the pre-determined endpoint.
Of course, being able to understand, predict and control all the variables across a time period is a very mechanistic approach to change and can’t easily be applied to open, complex living systems such as human beings.
COMPLEX CHANGE
Instead of planting my vegetables in the small, closed-off greenhouse, I decide to head to a nearby indigenous forest to plant my vegetables. I place the vegetables in little groups sporadically throughout the forest. Some vegetables are planted under the shadowy canopy of large, old trees, and others amongst shrubbery with much more exposure to the elements.
In this case, I do not understand all the variables, let alone the variable’s effects on the state of the vegetables over time. As a result, I cannot predict what will happen, and so any attempt to lay out a pre-determined plan towards a set goal in a given time period is likely to be inaccurate and ineffective.
All I can do is simply observe. Patiently, curiously and attentively.
Wholehearted observation.
With time patterns begin to emerge.
Some vegetables may die very quickly in one place yet thrive in another. Certain combinations of vegetables and other living systems within the forest may produce surprising results, only to be wiped out by less frequent cyclical events. Some vegetables may attract certain animals changing the entire web of interacting systems within that particular area of the forest. Who knows!
This continual, unpredictable, uncontrollable interdependence can be understood as complex change. It is the ongoing process of self-organisation and emergence that characterises the core nature of complex adaptive systems.
Success here is not measured by impact (static change) or a movement along a predetermined path to a particular endpoint (dynamic change). Rather, success is measured by the degree to which the system has the capacity to adapt and respond in sustainable and resilient ways.
Viewing change through a complexity lens allows us to consider and work with our systems in a much more realistic manner. It allows us to embrace and hold the inherent complexity of change, rather than sweeping the messiness under the rug, so that we fit change into a simpler, more reductionist view of the system that is seemingly more predictable and easier to control,
When we embrace complex change, we realise that the only way to proceed is by careful observation and understanding of the patterns that emerge at any given point and take informed action to respond accordingly, knowing fully well that any attempt to predict the consequences of our actions is inherently limited.
A TERRIBLE MISUNDERSTANDING
Each view of change has its place. The problem is that we tend to apply static or dynamic lenses when the nature of the change is inherently complex.
One obvious and important example of this mistake occurs in the ways we think about changing ourselves and others.
Take a moment to reflect on the ways we are taught or conditioned to change ourselves. Typically such approaches are either static or dynamic—
‘All you need to do is read this book! Eat this meal! Perform this exercise!’
This is static change.
I see myself in a particular way, and if I perform a certain task, I will be transformed into a better version of myself. Self-improvement 101, right?
There are also more sophisticated recipes.
‘If you want be like him or her, what you need to do is follow this 10 step plan! Done? Now follow this process. It will prepare you for embarking on this journey! You’re back already? Good! Now breathe five times, clap twice and do a handstand while touching your nose with your tongue! Nice! You’re almost there!”
The promise is always that you will reach some idealised state if you follow some set plan. An image in your mind. A goal you aspire to. All you need to do is ‘this’.
THE PLAN UNDERESTIMATES THE SYSTEM
What these approaches do is vastly underestimate the complexity of the system they are dealing with.
You are not a simple, mechanical process, where all the variables are known, predictable and controllable.
YOU CONTAIN MULTITUDES! As Walt Whitman famously said. You really do.
You are quite literally one of the most complex systems in the known universe.
Of course a five-step plan isn’t going to work. Of course you can’t turn yourself into a project and manage yourself with KPI’s, predictable milestones and imagined targets.
I mean you can try to squeeze yourself into boxes, models, plans and frameworks for a while, but inevitably the structure will break apart from the sheer force of the complexity it is trying to hold. And when that happens, we call it failure…
God, it seems so obviously wrong. Yet, like everyone, I persist with this insanity.
THE ROOTS OF OUR CONFUSION
Why do we treat ourselves as complicated, when it is so evident we are complex?
Where did this appetite for prescriptive protocols and five-step plans come from?
I’m not sure, but it seems like part of the misunderstanding has arisen from idealisation and an appetite for emulation.
We see someone perform some incredible feat. A masterclass performance. A moment of inspirational leadership. Or they build a billion-dollar business. Paint a beautiful piece of art. Produce a stunning piece of music.
We see this, and we want to know. We need to know… HOW!?
How did they do it? How did they get there? How did they create that?
So we ask them…
And they feel compelled to answer.
Here is the problem though. They DO NOT KNOW how they became what they are. They do not know how they created what they did. How they performed the way they did.
They might think they do, but this is just a backwards-looking story that their conceptual mind has constructed in line with how they currently see themselves.
The conceptual mind is INHERENTLY INCAPABLE of describing complex change. It deals in narratives, linearities, plots and sequel steps.
That’s the first mistake.
The second mistake is on us.
Our conceptual minds then go “OH, that makes sense, I can do that!” And the moment we do that, we are lost…
Once you see this, you will see how desperately confused the world is.
We live and breathe stories, not reality.
It also makes history a little more complex than what we have been led to believe—that’s a whole Pandoras Box in itself though.
The best we can do is embrace our complexity, observe carefully, accept uncertainty and learn to dance playfully.
Take care,
David