About the Book
- from the Inner Cover...
Our most common way of solving problems�at home, at work, in our communities,
in national and international affairs�is to use our expertise and authority to
apply piece-by-piece, tried-and-true "best practices." This works for simple,
familiar, uncontentious problems. But it doesn't work for the complex,
unfamiliar, conflictual problems that we all increasingly face. When we try to
solve these complex problems using our common way, the problems end up either
getting stuck or getting unstuck only by force. We all need to learn another,
uncommon way.
Adam Kahane has worked on some of the toughest problems in the world. He
started out as an expert analyst and adviser to corporations and governments,
convinced of the need to calculate "the one right answer."
Then, through an unexpected experience in South Africa during the
transition away from apartheid, he got involved in facilitating a series of
extraordinary, high-conflict, high-stakes problem solving efforts: in Colombia
during the civil war, in Argentina during the collapse, in Guatemala after the
genocide, in Israel-Palestine, Northern Ireland, Cyprus, and the Basque Country.
Through these experiences, he has learned how to create environments that
enable creative new ideas and solutions to emerge even in the most stuck and
challenging contexts. Here Kahane tells his stories and distills from them a
"simple but not easy" approach all of us can use to solve our own toughest
problems.
Using examples from families, corporations, governments, and nonprofits,
Kahane explores the connection between individual and systemic transformation,
and shows how to move beyond politeness and formal statements, beyond routine
debate and defensiveness, towards deeper and more productive dialogue and
action. Engaging and inspiring, personal and practical, this book offers us a
down-to-earth and hopeful way forward: a way of "open-minded, open-hearted,
open-willed talking and listening" vital for creating profound and lasting
change.
From the Preface by
Peter Senge (author of the Fifth Discipline), Cambridge, Massachusetts April
2004
Increasingly we face issues for which hierarchical authority is inadequate.
No CEO can transform a company's ability to innovate, or single-handedly create
a values-based culture. No country president can resolve intractable political
stalemates that stand in the way of national development. It is painfully
apparent that even the most powerful political leaders and global institutions
are powerless in the face of issues like climate change or the growing gap
between rich and poor that, if left unaddressed, will undermine the future we
leave our children and grandchildren.
Faced with this reality, we see everywhere a growing sense of powerlessness
and an increasing reliance on force. The former reflects awareness that the big
issues are generally getting worse, not better; the latter, a desperate response
to this awareness. Few of us do not shudder at the prospect of a continuation of
today's escalating reliance on force.
Adam Kahane's book poses a third option: a transformation in our ability to
talk, think, and act together. I am convinced this is the only reliable path
forward, not only for hierarchical leaders but for all of us�as parents,
citizens, and people at all levels in organizations�seeking to contribute to
meaningful change.
While this third option is commonly dismissed as idealistic and unrealistic,
Adam's belief in this possibility has been forged in the fire of some of the
world's most complex and conflicted situations. As a young scenario planner from
Shell, he found himself in 1991 helping formerly outlawed black political party
leaders in South Africa develop strategies to guide their divided country. The
problem was that they saw the world differently from one another and very
differently from the white minority with whom they had to work.
Remarkably, in little more than a year, this Mont Fleur scenario process
resulted in a meaningful consensus on many of the country's core challenges and
a way of talking and working together that united a broad cross section of the
country. South Africa still faces immense challenges, but it is hard to imagine
the country's transition to stable multiracial democracy without this process
and others like it.
Since then, many similar experiences�some successful and some not�have
illuminated a few simple principles around which Adam's story unfolds.
We are unable to talk productively about complex issues because we are unable
to listen. Politics and politicians today epitomize virtually the opposite of
the symbol from which their calling emerged�the Greek polis�where citizens came
to talk together about the issues of their day. Things are little better in most
corporate boardrooms, where the most difficult and politically threatening
issues often never see the light of day. Indeed, we now have a new hero of
corporate governance: the "whistle-blower" who risks it all to say what no one
wants to hear.
Listening requires opening ourselves. Our typical patterns of listening in
difficult situations are tactical, not relational. We listen for what we expect
to hear. We sift through others' views for what we can use to make our own
points. We measure success by how effective we have been in gaining advantage
for our favored positions. Even when these motives are covered by a shield of
politeness, it is rare for people with something at stake truly to open their
minds to discover the limitations in their own ways of seeing and acting.
Opening our minds ultimately means opening our hearts. The heart has come to
be associated with muddled thinking and personal weakness, hardly the attributes
of effective decision makers.
But this was not always so. "Let us bring our hearts and minds together for
the good of the whole" has been a common entreaty of wise leaders for millennia.
Indigenous peoples around the world commence important dialogues with prayers
for guidance, in order that they might suspend their prejudices and fears and
act wisely in the service of their communities. The oldest Chinese symbol for
"mind" is a picture of the heart.
When a true opening of the heart develops collectively, miracles are
possible. This is perhaps the most difficult point of all to accept in today's
cynical world, and I will not try to argue abstractly for what Adam illustrates
so poignantly. By miracles I do not mean that somehow everything turns out for
the best with no effort or uncertainty. Hardly. If anything, the effort required
greatly exceeds what is typical, and people learn to embrace a level of
uncertainty from which most of us normally retreat. But this embrace arises from
a collective strength that we have all but ceased to imagine, let alone develop:
the strength of a creative human community grounded in a genuine sense of
connectedness and possibility, rather than one based on fear and dogma.
It has been my privilege to work with Adam for the past decade, as part of a
growing community of intrepid explorers around the world looking for alternative
paths to catalyze and sustain profound, systemic change. This work is being done
in corporate, governmental, and nongovernmental organizations, and in settings
that involve all three sectors. It is a joy to see some of the initial
articulations of its foundations now reaching publication.
Through this time I have come to appreciate Adam as a consummate craftsman, a
deeply pragmatic person not given easily to hyperbole or naive expectations.
This book captures his spirit as well as his knowledge. The theory and method
gradually emerging from this collective work sit quietly in the background of
his story of challenges, accomplishments, failures, and discoveries.
Although what Adam and others of us are learning is undoubtedly no more than
first steps, I believe the direction is becoming clear. The path forward is
about becoming more human, not just more clever. It is about transcending our
fears of vulnerability, not finding new ways of protecting ourselves. It is
about discovering how to act in service of the whole, not just in service of our
own interests. It is about rediscovering our courage�literally, cuer age, the
rending of the heart�to pursue what Adam calls "an open way," because the only
progress possible regarding the deep problems we face will come from opening our
minds, hearts, and wills.
From the Introduction: The
Problem with Tough Problems
Tough problems usually don't get solved peacefully. They either don't get
solved at all�they get stuck�or they get solved by force. These frustrating and
frightening outcomes occur all the time. Families replay the same argument over
and over, or a parent lays down the law. Organizations keep returning to a
familiar crisis, or a boss decrees a new strategy. Communities split over a
controversial issue, or a politician dictates the answer. Countries negotiate to
a stalemate, or they go to war. Either the people involved in a problem can't
agree on what the solution is, or the people with power�authority, money,
guns�impose their solution on everyone else.
There is another way to solve tough problems. The people involved can talk
and listen to each other and thereby work through a solution peacefully. But
this way is often too difficult and too slow to produce results, and force
therefore becomes the easier, default option. I have written this book to help
those of us who are trying to solve tough problems get better at talking and
listening�so that we can do so more successfully, and choose the peaceful way
more often. I want talking and listening to become a reliable default option.
Problems are tough because they are complex in three ways. They are
dynamically complex, which means that cause and effect are far apart in space
and time, and so are hard to grasp from firsthand experience. They are
generatively complex, which means that they are unfolding in unfamiliar and
unpredictable ways. And they are socially complex, which means that the people
involved see things very differently, and so the problems become polarized and
stuck.
Our talking and listening often fails to solve complex problems because of
the way that most of us talk and listen most of the time. Our most common way of
talking is telling: asserting the truth about the way things are and must be,
not allowing that there might be other truths and possibilities. And our most
common way of listening is not listening: listening only to our own talking, not
to others. This way of talking and listening works fine for solving simple
problems, where an authority or expert can work through the problem piece by
piece, applying solutions that have worked in the past. But a complex problem
can only be solved peacefully if the people who are part of the problem work
together creatively to understand their situation and to improve it.
Our common way of talking and listening therefore guarantees that our complex
problems will either remain stuck or will get unstuck only by force. (There is
no problem so complex that it does not have a simple solution . . . that is
wrong.) We need to learn another, less common, more open way.
I have reached these conclusions after twenty-five years of working
professionally on tough problems. I started off my career as someone who came up
with solutions. First I was a university researcher in physics and economics,
and then an expert analyst of government policy and corporate strategy.
Then in 1991, inspired by an unexpected and extraordinary experience in South
Africa, I began working as a neutral facilitator of problem-solving processes,
helping other people come up with their own solutions. I have facilitated
leadership teams of companies, governments, and civil society organizations in
fifty countries, on every continent�from Royal Dutch/Shell, Intel,
PricewaterhouseCoopers, and Federal Express, to the Government of Canada and the
European Commission, to the Congress of South African Trade Unions and the
Anglican Synod of Bishops�helping them address their organizations' most
difficult challenges.
And I have also facilitated cross-organizational leadership teams�composed of
businesspeople and politicians, generals and guerrillas, civil servants and
trade unionists, community activists and United Nations officials, journalists
and clergy, academics and artists�helping them address some of the most
difficult challenges in the world: in South Africa during the struggle to
replace apartheid; in Colombia in the midst of the civil war; in Guatemala in
the aftermath of the genocide; in Argentina when the society collapsed; and in
deeply divided Israel-Palestine, Cyprus, Paraguay, Canada-Quebec, Northern
Ireland, and the Basque Country.
Commuting back and forth between these different worlds has allowed me to see
how tough problems can and cannot be solved. I have been privileged to work with
many extraordinary people in many extraordinary processes. From these
experiences I have drawn conclusions that apply not only in extraordinary but
also in ordinary settings. In the harsh light of life-and-death conflicts, the
dynamics of how people create new realities are painted in bright colors. Having
seen the dynamics there, I can now recognize them in circumstances where they
are painted in muted colors. I have learned what kinds of talking and listening
condemn us to stuckness and force, and what kinds enable us to solve peacefully
even our most difficult problems.
My favorite movie about getting unstuck is the comedy Groundhog Day. Bill
Murray plays Phil Connors, a cynical, self-centered television journalist who is
filming a story about Groundhog Day, February 2, in the small town of
Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. He despises the assignment and the town. The next
morning, he wakes up to discover, with horror, that it is still February 2, and
that he has to live through these events again. This happens every morning: he
is stuck in reliving the same day over and over. He explains this to his
producer Rita, but she laughs it off. He tries everything he can in order to
break this pattern�getting angry, being nice, killing himself�but nothing works.
Eventually he relaxes into appreciating the present, and opens himself up to the
town and to Rita. Only then does he wake up to a new day and a better future.
Many of us are like Phil Connors. We get stuck by holding on tightly to our
opinions and plans and identities and truths. But when we relax and are present
and open up our minds and hearts and wills, we get unstuck and we unstick the
world around us. I have learned that the more open I am�the more attentive I am
to the way things are and could be, around me and inside me; the less attached I
am to the way things ought to be�the more effective I am in helping to bring
forth new realities. And the more I work in this way, the more present and alive
I feel. As I have learned to lower my defenses and open myself up, I have become
increasingly able to help better futures be born.
The way we talk and listen expresses our relationship with the world. When we
fall into the trap of telling and of not listening, we close ourselves off from
being changed by the world and we limit ourselves to being able to change the
world only by force. But when we talk and listen with an open mind and an open
heart and an open spirit, we bring forth our better selves and a better world.