Tuesday, July 06, 2004

Timing

Over loads of projects I've been involved in there is a subtle undercurrent to do with timing. It's true that the deadline for a project can be set firmly on sound assumptions. But then, as you get into that early period when all (if you're lucky) the hidden surprises appear, that deadline can seem pretty rediculous. So what's going on? Is it that what we thought were sound assumptions were based on illusion? Wishful thinking? Possibly. There's a good case for checking and checking again all those assumptions.

BUT!

That's not what I mean in my garden timing analogy. In a garden, although you can choose or modify elements such as form, soil, plants, composition and so on as it develops, there is always something underlying the timing of the garden's growth. It's less tangible than the elements themselves, and it's more than the sum of their interactions. To me it's the life of the garden. I think we can understand projects in a similar way.

How can this be useful? I believe that maybe alongside the rational checking and risk-evaluation of all those assumptions, we could usefully spend some time appreciating the less tangible life of the project. Call it immersion, incubation, meditation or what you will, I believe it adds a holistic dimension to the process that can open up awareness to what the project will be like when it starts to live. At this point, I am happier about allowing intuition to modify the expected timing of the project.

I suppose you could also argue that this kind of approach could work for existing projects, teams or organisations. The resulting action would not be a modification of the timing, but another understanding of the possible tensions and process/form problems that might be at work.

The underlying philosophy is one that considers a mechanistic approach has limited value in working with living systems, whether they be gardens or groups of people.


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Creativity Planning

It's been strange looking at creativity through so many different perspectives. The latest thing to strike me has been the desire to manage it. It seems to me that there's a distinction between managing conditions for creativity and managing creativity itself. I've been cast back to the analogy of gardens in trying to understand this distinction. I have a way to go, but so far, the concepts that feel they might be useful are: organic, timing, structure and style. I'll pick these out one at a time and see what comes of them.