Innovation Compression

A tiny little robot busies himself. Seemingly alone on a planet he collects rubbish and scrap and compacts it. Neatly stacking thousands of these efficient little cubes in an effort to clean up. Efficiency is the order of the day and all the mess is taking up too much space. Collect, compact, stack. Repeat.

You may remember the scenes from Wall-E, as he goes about his business on an error strewn planet left behind. When it comes to rubbish, compacting is good, we don’t want the discarded to take up space we could use for other things. When it comes to great ideas and innovations the opposite might be true. We need to expand and spread ideas, we want innovations to impact far and wide. We want them to be known, understood and in the open.

And yet all too often they get compacted.

How much is on your plate right now? Are those who bought the crockery removing stuff as well as piling things on?

Innovation compression might be when good ideas or innovative programmes are introduced [forced] into a space still occupied by previous innovations.

Programmes get compacted as nothing is removed, nothing is freed up.

When little Wall-E compacts and compresses, the items he collects have to change and bend to fit the new shape. When our ideas get compressed they also may suffer from such a change. They may have to, in order to actually exist in that crowded space. We keep them alive on a resource diet, we lament the time we wish we had to devote to them.

This is about new and old(er) innovations attempting to co-exist and it typically leads to a reduction in efficacy of the newer innovation. I suppose the incumbent might hold existing ground and resources. In many ways this concept is most applicable to overlapping programmes. Let’s imagine an example.

In a school you might have a range of literacy support programmes that are both general offerings as well as interventions that support the individual needs of different children. Literacy improvement is the category, and yet the writing, reading, speech and language programmes all overlap to some degree. As time passes a number of reading support programmes begin to overlap very closely, they have the same intended outcomes but the “innovation” might be different: using technology, home-school partnership, one to one support, phonic development etc. The school might be loathe to abandon or hospice the innovation due to sustained financial and emotional (human) investment. And yet new literacy improvement ideas emerge from research or professional development courses, even marketed products. When new programmes are introduced, that draw down on the finite energy and effort from those involved without stopping other parallel ideas and releasing resource reserves, we get innovation compression, and a potential weakening of the original ideas.

Of course we are not looking for a single idea to solve them all. Far from some Tolkeinesque improvement strategy, we need to understand how we avoid unnecessary compression of programmes and how to prune those innovations in schools or across your organisation that can (should) be succeeded by alternatives.

Run through some of these questions to discuss with your teams as new ideas and improvements are developed and as you review developments.

Status quo

How do we measure the impact of our current programmes? What impact have they had over the longer term? What gaps are there? How much investment have we made so far in these existing ideas?

New ideas

How are we identifying new innovations or programme ideas? What overlaps do they have with existing working ideas? What gaps do they address? Will they require “as much”, “more” or “less” resourcing to implement?

Clearing the way

How might we fully appreciate the resources needed to introduce these new ideas and what they overlap with? How can we create space for people to make the most of this idea and for it to have the impact we want? Which programmes or existing innovations might be discarded to release energy and resources?

As with most complex organisations like schools, efficiency cannot be the only value you abide by. When improving such organisations we need to strike a balance between Wall-E type efficiency and implementing unique hard-to-scale ideas as well.

Importantly though we need to lead with a deep appreciation for what is on people’s plates. We need to avoid innovation compression by clearing the way, closing existing programmes and providing people the resources they need to make things work.

The winds of change are blowing wild and free

The word has finally been made public that I am leaving my job at the end of June.

After five years working as a consultant I have decided to start my own business here in Australia. I want to build on the work and ideas I have been developing over the last ten years or so. I am both excited and anxious, but mainly I feel calm, ready and determined.

I am sure that my writing will shift to charting that journey, as I start up and as Dialogic Learning takes some strides into the world.

Dialogic is a way to describe some of my best work. Developing capacity in others and leading organisational change requires dialogue, it requires strong, trusting relationships. I know I can form these quickly and that this establishes a great platform to do creative, challenging work. My new business will focus on that.

My understanding and expertise with the creative process has grown and I still believe that teaching, and learning design, requires our deepest creative skills. Dialogic Learning will focus on helping people improve their creative process.

There is still a lot more to develop, share and write about as I build things up over the next three months or so (and also look back on the last few years). I have created a little holding page for now, just to countdown until go time and where you can sign up for updates and get in touch.

I have had some great support from all sorts of different people as word has spread. My online networks have played an integral role in my thinking and development over the years and I want to keep it that way.

Thankyou, more soon.

Tired times are good for my brain

Half asleep and still travelling. That usually describes me at the end of a day with a leadership team or a client group. And it is in those moments when I know I should force myself to think harder about some creative challenges or development I am doing. It is often when my brain is tired that it begins to make interesting and unexpected connections.

This is something I know about myself and I consciously choose to think harder and act during those tired times. They are typically moments we feel an aversion to more work. For me, it tends to suit developmental work or creating stuff. As a result, when I decide to pick up my notebook and scan through some half sketched ideas, a rough workshop flow or explore the way a new resource is looking, something typically falls into a different place.

Work when your brain is tired and see what new connections you might make.

The Trouble With Passion Based Learning

It would seem that the concept of passion based learning (the other type of PBL) has found a place amongst the burgeoning lexicon we use to describe what happens in school these days. The emergence of the phrase has always left me feeling a little uncomfortable.

I get that we should be passionate as teachers. But basing our learning on the presence or pursuit of passion, feels somewhat vexing.

This post from Ainissa Ramirez is filled with provocations and worth a wander through to get some cogs whirring. But you might soon strike trouble, as I have done with what is shared

There are two ways to get a child passionate about something:

1) Find out what each child is innately passionate about.
2) Be an instructor that exudes passion for the topic, and infect your students with that excitement.

Only a few of us have benefited from the first option, but all of us can benefit from the second one. That is the power of passion.

Like I said, I also believe that exuding passion for learning as a teacher sets you apart. It is the difference between those who are just there, and those who are memorable. I am passionate about stories, I hope my students remember the tales we explored and those we crafted together. I am passionate about how technology can immerse us in new worlds, I hope my students remember those places we visited and those we built.

Can you remember those memorable teachers? We saw in them their spark, a glow that we bathed in and gravitated towards. A light that seemed to offer a surefooted certainty and steadfast platform for us to build on. Their unswerving passion draped over every word and action.

This is from an article I wrote about the purpose of education:

To work in education it helps to be passionate. I want my son to see the drive and determination in another person at some point in the next few years. I want him to feel that human to human inspiration that is so powerful. Education should be about giving young people inspiration and belief — these can come from the environment that surrounds them. But it will probably resonate more strongly from one passionate person.

But I didn’t become passionate just because someone else was, it wasn’t that easy. And that is my first concern with the beguiling two step process shared by Ramirez. Excitement is one thing, passion is quite different. Like the difference between empathy and engagement. The other issue is that we can simply find out what students are passionate about, like it is that simple. I think the opposite is true.

When we ask primary age students what they are passionate about, we are not asking something appropriate to their age.

Passion is not something you follow. It’s something that will follow you as you put in the hard work to become valuable to the world.

Cal Newport wrote this back in 2012 in a piece about changing our view on the career advice of “follow your passion.” Assuming that every child will have something innately representative of a passion is a bit of a stretch. Especially when they are 8.

I am grateful to Kate Montgomery for sharing some of her own thinking on this and helping me discover the Cal Newport article. Kate explains her own point of view:

And what if you don’t know what your passion is? The idea that you should pursue your passions like you just know what they are is also not quite right, to me. I’ve never known what my passions were, in a professional or even personal sense, because I was regarding passion as synonymous with ease and lack-of-fear.

The emphasis and pressure to “have a passion” for kids is counter intuitive. Every child needs the space and time to discover who they are. If we are genuine then this timeline might not fit neatly into the planning cycle for a school term. In fact it is just as likely to reach further into their lives, far beyond the bells of school.

We should take the pressure off kids and offer them a breadth of experiences whilst they are with us in school. Seek out new ideas and perspectives to share with them. Encourage and support their interests. Surround children with passionate people, so they can bathe in those lights and they can be inspired by others. Perhaps then, they will have the best possible conditions to maybe figure it out for themselves.

Second hand courage is still courage

Have you ever felt like you might not be able to face it? Sometimes you just don’t have all the energy that you need to get through. It is OK not to have all the answers. There are times when we fall short of the line or just lack that spark we need. That’s OK. It was during 2010 and early 2011 that I realised I was suffering just such a deficit.

My career seemed to be happening to me and I felt helpless to some of the issues I was facing. I tumbled from one urgent/important item to another. I was out of balance. During my time in schools I had never had to deal with compromise. And here it was. With such an energy deficit I had to ration where I put my efforts. I wanted to be the best classroom teacher I could be and at the same time develop as a school leader. But compromise stretched its tendrils around both endeavours. This toxic time eroded my mental health and I suffered.

There were days when I had to stop the car on the way to work and take a few deep breaths.

It wasn’t my own courage that pushed me on. It was the second hand courage of people close to me. Their unwavering support helped steady my nerves, their energy topped me up. Also through some teary discussions I managed to get some distance and realised that it wasn’t me. It was OK. The situation I was in could change and I could change it.

If you are in that struggle consider these things I learned. Surround yourself with people who can share their energy and courage with you — their courage is still something that can carry you. Find perspective by discussing things with someone who will understand your experience. Plot your way out, find a course that puts you back making decisions about what is next.