Category: Daily

The pleasure of being wrong

One of the ways I define a conversation I want to be in is that there’s a possibility I will discover I am wrong about something.

For me, there’s often a rush of excitement when I think “oh, my mind is changing about this!” And “oh wow, I had such a superficial understanding of this!” Sometimes it happens just from reading or listening to an audiobook, but conversations are where discoveries feel the most thrilling.

Allowing for this possibility is not a feature of many social platforms, in my experience.

There are two reasons that stand out : one, that most things tend to stick around, so there is a social cost to saying something and then discovering you’re wrong, to the degree that I see many people entrenched in a position that doesn’t make sense, or being afraid to say anything that isn’t benign or, maybe even more often, a sort-of self-congratulatory bid for attention.

Second, nearly all social technology is either broadcast-oriented, meaning everything you say is on some kind of stage, even in a small Slack or Discord. Or it’s very private, in ‘messaging’ that is at least intended not to be shared even though someone is storing it on a server somewhere indefinitely.

In person, conversations can happen more freely- like where you’re talking to someone or a few people and there might be people who can hear but aren’t participating, or people who might come over to the conversation, hear a part of it, and decide to join in. There aren’t invisible people listening, but the conversations aren’t exactly private either.

You can have conversations on Zoom, but it’s pretty hard to do without a fair amount of management and mediation. VR-ish spacial chat apps try to mimic some of these ‘stumbling in’ aspects of physical space. So far, my experience is that they require a lot of fiddly stuff tying you to a larger screen, but I’m sure they will improve.

At any rate, I’m curious how to design systems that support a discovery process, not just of entering into conversations but also in allowing the possibility of a hypothesis or assumption being questioned. I’m thinking about what might lead to more curiosity and willingness to experiment. To encourage the kind of joy that comes from a mutual exchange of perspectives, where everyone has progressed with their thinking in the end, even if no one agrees fully. This is essentially what creative collaboration is, right?

Even better if there’s a way to act on the progress, if there’s a collective process. I’m not an idealist. Instead, when we look at amazing eras of progress, there are a lot of people exchanging ideas from different perspectives and seeing different angles or nuances that they missed on their own.

To address the problems we want to tackle (or at least, some of them), we need the space and grace to be wrong.

The relationship work ethic

Social media has negative effects on our well-being for a reason we don’t talk about enough. It’s created a fallacy that relationships, finding friends or partners, finding collaborators, developing community should be easy. When it’s not, people come up with ideas to use technology to make it easier: I know! AI that will tell you your friends are nearby, or that you have the same musical tastes as someone, or you can ‘join a community’ that puts you in a space where you can look at people’s self-promotion and job postings at the same time as other people. (Yes, I get animated about the community platforms, obviously).

But really, there isn’t a way to completely circumvent the process of getting to know other people, figuring out ways that you can be with each other and ways that don’t work, of negotiating all the ancillary aspects of a relationship like your proximity, whether you get along with their existing circles, whether you share enough of a common goal to accomplish something, who is going to do the work of initiating contact or planning things to do, I mean the list goes on and on.

There are interesting ways to facilitate or open the door to the process of forming relationships. Some of the needs we have now are side effects of other technology we have developed over time, and we could look at how to tweak or rethink the ways we’re together as mediated by technology. But making it ‘easier’ or especially ‘faster’ feels a little like abandoning the very needs at the core of relationships, which is belonging, mattering, loving, being loved, none of which make any sense to make “frictionless.”

I have wished before for the kind of learning depicted in The Matrix, where I could just plug something into my head and suddenly play piano or tennis or be a wicked martial artist. How cool would that be? Except that why are skills valuable in the first place? I suppose if I could play tennis well I’d enjoy playing tennis more, but on the other hand, if I enjoyed tennis enough as a beginner, why not stick with it and get the joy of improving? I mean, if I was great at tennis I would need technology to also expand time so that there’d be hours free to go to a tennis court, not to mention some kind of point to playing tennis in the first place, if everyone can just get out-of-the-box proficiency. Would I “win” tennis matches by virtue of anything I was doing or just have a more impressive tennis game upload?

A digression, but isn’t the same thing true about friends or collaborators? What makes us long for connection has to do at least in part with wanting to be known and seen as individual, unique, and special to someone. Or in a group, to be a trusted part of the interpersonal dynamic, and to feel like our presence and our perspective are valued. Even more importantly, we know and value our friends and collaborators. If we didn’t, then why would it matter if they care about us?

There are people working on AI that is supposed to emulate this but it misses something obvious. Probably most people have had the experience of being in a one-sided relationship. Sure, there’s ego validation at some level, but doesn’t it actually feel bad to be the person who is less invested? My experience is that I’ve felt like a bit of a jerk for not caring enough, resentful because I didn’t invite the level of connection that it seems like I was asked to reciprocate, and even a little bit lonely since it’s a situation that puts lack of connection front and centre.

We can create spaces that reduce the sense of interpersonal obligation to the degree that we can feel a generalized sense of connection, and many of those spaces open the doors for people to be vulnerable and feel a sense of belonging, but when the rubber meets the road, we really want someone who will know what we’re going through, who we’ve negotiated challenges with so we know they are in it with us in a serious way.

I have to question myself here, because I do think there’s something powerful about finding people who share passions, values, a mission, or a desire to change and grow. But finding is really such a small part of the work to be done to have connection and meaning. And so the key is starting small, with one or two people, building and understanding the speed of trust within your relationship.

It’s not even the perfect people we need, it’s the people who are willing and open to showing up for one other. But in a world where you can sift though thousands of profiles, of the ads we create of ourselves, it’s easy to think that our job is to pick the right product, rather than to experience the discomfort of early and emerging relationships.

Because it is uncomfortable to not know whether someone likes you, is reliable, will call you back. To not be sure what their reaction will be to your flaws, or just to things about each of us that might not be appreciated by everyone. To reveal things that you’re not sure about yourself, to love people when they don’t always receive it. To know if they’re just busy or have passed on getting closer. So many things are hard.

And getting through the discomfort is what actually lets us know we care and are cared for.

This isn’t very revelatory, but it’s still interesting to me. The last few years have opened so many spaces to me and I’ve met a lot of amazing people. I hope some of them will become friends and collaborators! And it’s also helped me see how, no matter how much time I’m ‘with’ people, if I don’t put work into my deeper relationships, I will still feel alone.

Belonging, my longing

A grey day. The sun rose and I got to walk through the colours that rose out of violet into magenta and dissolved into peach and yellow by the time I reached the vet with Kohaku, who was going into surgery to remove a tooth (again). Leaving him there, the sun rose into a cold haze and eventually the rain came. And now, so soon, the sky is darkening and pink at the edges.

Some days are just lonely, no matter how many people there are to love. And sometimes I feel like I am wandering around looking for my tribe: builders who are questioning the systems of building, outsiders who want to call ourselves in, people with a sense of humor, a love of collaboration, deep compassion, willingness to take risks, who are oriented towards connection, and have the resilience to keep experimenting until we can find something that works. Who in other ways are different than me, with different lives experiences, skill sets, and perspectives.

The making of a place, a space of belonging – that’s my calling as well as my longing. It’s amazing because it’s taken me into so many amazing groups and communities. It’s taken me into myself, to discover I belong there, here, in my own breath.

I’m anticipating a time when I’ll be serving people more directly, as a steward, a service provider, a designer, a path-clearer, an ambassador, a negotiator, or any of the other roles a founder might fill. That is very exciting. But I won’t do it alone, even if I have thankfully found peace being by myself.

Parenting Unpaternally

As a parent, albeit a “step” one, I have had the incredible opportunity to see my programming reflected back to me on a regular basis, and nothing stands out as much as the ways dominance can creep into the way I behave, even though I have a strong feeling that dominance is at the root of most problems or aspects of the world and society that trouble me.

The thing is, dominance works.

As I grew up, I was surrounded by friends and immediate family who were what was called then “on the left” and as much as I preferred to be around them compared to the Polo-wearing, bible-quoting right-wing folks I knew, I also thought, ‘boy, are these people naive’. How can we really have a world without war, where people cooperate? I saw that nonviolent direct action could have impact, but in the end, guns and threats of nuclear annihilation seemed to have no real answer.

I was raised in a weird paradox around power: Quaker, peace-espousing parents, one of whom used fear and dominance liberally to foster obedience. I knew that no matter how much people at Sunday meeting might tell you that all people are equal, when it came to whether I would do what I was told, god’s eyes were averted.

Though it seems sort of archaic to me now, back in the days when my parents were raised, family relationships were largely hidden and trauma and and dysfunction were kept behind closed doors. This parent was raised in fear. And these kind of endless cycles went on without much question, at least for many Canadian and American families.

“Good parenting” has had its theorists for some time, and scientists have been specifically investigating how our experience of childhood shapes us for decades. In the last half-century, this evidence began to inform the way people thought about parenting and the idea of corporal punishment started to lose favour, while more caring, empathy, and openness grew more prevalent.

What is amazing about this shift is that it implies that though it might seem ‘naive’ on its surface, when you look at the evidence, it’s pretty clear humans benefit from feeling loved, encouraged, and respected, even as children. But as a parent, it’s often challenging to give up the dream of a kid who does what they’re told, ‘behaves’ well, and listens to what you tell them.

Again, dominance works. When we threaten to take away games, phones, or social events, we get the behaviour we want more quickly. When we invoke fear or anger, kids do what we say, when we are bigger than them.

But of course, this comes at a cost. We’re not connected with our kids in those moments. We’re creating opportunities for resentment. We’re not giving kids the chance to fail and learn, or to take responsibility.

After I discovered hand-in-hand parenting and How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk, I saw that it was possible to create and maintain healthy boundaries that don’t rely on punishment and reward. And what is so exciting about this for me is what it implies about societal dominance.

Our culture, economy, and government fundamentally rest on a scaffolding of dominance and violence. And it works. Threats for challenging the system are ever-present. You can risk violence or imprisonment by speaking out in the wrong place, by not paying taxes or bills, or simply by being different. And a lot of people think even considering different options for maintaining ‘order’ are naive.

But new ways of parenting show that people, even kids and teenagers, are able to understand and work within healthy boundaries when those boundaries are not simply imposed without input or listening. When we might be operating from having more experience and information (and in the case of kids, brain development) but being open to the idea that we might still not be “right,” especially in determining what is good for other people. And there’s no real reason why we couldn’t construct organizations that would function with respect, compassion, and self-responsibility.

Except that it is harder.

And when it comes to those who have power, ease is seductive and understanding can be slower, more complex, and has no guarantee of a preferred outcome.

We’ve given so much of our power to undemocratic rule by corporations that it’s possible challenging the bounds of dominance might not actually something we can collectively decide to do. But I don’t know- if we all actually learned how to parent differently, maybe the rest of it comes naturally?

I’m of the mind that systems around me do change for the better when I change. At least the family systems do. I hope to see and participate in more experiments in developing systems among people with a non-domination orientation. What will happen? I’m just so curious.

Structure Lessness

This morning I had a few thoughts related to creating containers, which is how I think of an approach to designing technology to support transformation:

Freedom among people requires structure. As much of that structure that can be emergent as possible rather than dictated leads to self-responsible interaction,. For that to happen successfully, the container must be created with some constraints and intentions. The space must be named as a place for being self-responsible. Those who create the space do not control it.

Spaces are structures.

Spaces shape structure.

Maybe it sounds like a strange thing to build a business around, but I think this way of thinking about things creates a ton of value for any group that wants to make change, at least change that has an element of personal and collective transformation.

Jo Freeman’s essay The Tyranny of Structurelessness helps to frame the direction of transformational space design. We need the small, intimate, conversational experience to help us learn how to be together and to feel a sense of meaning and mattering. And we do need structures that support interdependent action. Neither is optional if we want to develop spaces where we’re not practicing dominance over our friends and allies.

To quote liberally from the essay, these are the specific practices that our spaces (in this case, digital spaces) should support and even encourage:

1) Delegation of specific authority to specific individuals for specific tasks by democratic procedures. Letting people assume jobs or tasks only by default means they are not dependably done. If people are selected to do a task, preferably after expressing an interest or willingness to do it, they have made a commitment which cannot so easily be ignored.
2) Requiring all those to whom authority has been delegated to be responsible to those who selected them. This is how the group has control over people in positions of authority. Individuals may exercise power, but it is the group that has ultimate say over how the power is exercised.
3) Distribution of authority among as many people as is reasonably possible. This prevents monopoly of power and requires those in positions of authority to consult with many others in the process of exercising it. It also gives many people the opportunity to have responsibility for specific tasks and thereby to learn different skills.
4) Rotation of tasks among individuals. Responsibilities which are held too long by one person, formally or informally, come to be seen as that person’s “property” and are not easily relinquished or controlled by the group. Conversely, if tasks are rotated too frequently the individual does not have time to learn her job well and acquire the sense of satisfaction of doing a good job.
5) Allocation of tasks along rational criteria. Selecting someone for a position because they are liked by the group or giving them hard work because they are disliked serves neither the group nor the person in the long run. Ability, interest, and responsibility have got to be the major concerns in such selection. People should be given an opportunity to learn skills they do not have, but this is best done through some sort of “apprenticeship” program rather than the “sink or swim” method. Having a responsibility one can’t handle well is demoralizing. Conversely, being blacklisted from doing what one can do well does not encourage one to develop one’s skills. Women have been punished for being competent throughout most of human history; the movement does not need to repeat this process.
6) Diffusion of information to everyone as frequently as possible. Information is power. Access to information enhances one’s power. When an informal network spreads new ideas and information among themselves outside the group, they are already engaged in the process of forming an opinion — without the group participating. The more one knows about how things work and what is happening, the more politically effective one can be.
7) Equal access to resources needed by the group. This is not always perfectly possible, but should be striven for. A member who maintains a monopoly over a needed resource (like a printing press owned by a husband, or a darkroom) can unduly influence the use of that resource. Skills and information are also resources. Members’ skills can be equitably available only when members are willing to teach what they know to others.

(Underlines in original, bolding my own emphasis)

When we create spaces that allow people to matter, we don’t erase all of the ways that systemic power, culture, and lived experience shape us. Reverend angel Kyodo williams said this morning that we have to be intentional about shifting the loci of power so that these factors don’t reinforce status relationships that come from systemic inequities.

When we’re working in the context of transformation, we can be aware that growing up with certain advantages based on race, gender, or other statuses may mean some people may have certain skills or more money due to their opportunity to access. The group can choose to welcome these skills or resources without making them what confers power or governance within the group. You don’t need to be disappeared or feel pressured not to contribute because you’ve been seen more readily in school, work, (or even on social media) before you joined the group.

In Al-Anon, which has welcomed millions of people from very different backgrounds into decentralized groups with rotating and distributed governance, members are encouraged within meetings to “avoid outside issues” which can be things like profession, religion, or whether they are also members of other 12-Step fellowships.

We can go further by inviting ourselves to consider how our own way of supporting inequity might play into a space, even when that support comes in the form of believing limiting or negative things about ourselves. If our space leads us to feel like we should hide aspects of ourselves, we probably are perpetuating unbelonging in our collective.

We can also notice when we might be able to step back, know we are not ‘the only one who can..’, and hold space for those whose voices may not be as forthcoming. I’ve noticed that for me, I often feel reluctant to be vulnerable at first, but once I feel more comfortable, I need to pay attention to my pause and hold space for other people. I’ve also experienced people with more power pushing me to stay quiet, saying ‘you don’t know how much influence you have.’ In all of these situations, the solution is a mixture of self-awareness and structure, when there are roles and rotation of responsibilities.

In making technology that can support structures like this, which apply to most communities of practice, support, and changemaking, we can inform the options of a space (which technology always constrains and mediates) to support both intimate and trust-building communication and processes that allow for more inclusive, distributed, effective means of non-domination-oriented leadership and action.

What does this look like in actual design? Working on it! Of course I would love your thoughts or feedback.

Experiment

What if I wrote every day in 2023? There’s only one way to find out.

To expectation-set (for you? for me?) I’m not trying to make this the best writing I have ever done, or to make some grand unifying or even coherent collection of concepts and ideas.

Enough disclaimers!

Today is January 1, 2023 and it does not have the patina of a holiday, except insofar as it is a relatively normal day after a few weeks of family and travel, and there are hints of sun after a rather soggy December. No champagne was opened here. Which is not to say I don’t feel celebratory, exactly. I am grateful for the way the last year has unfolded despite it being rather amorphous. My stepson said he thinks something really terrible will happen in 2023, and you know, he is certainly rational in that pronouncement, the only question is how close the terror will be.

I had no idea I’d go in this direction. What I want to tell you is that I (for whatever reason) feel like optimism of some kinds is also rational, and possibly even necessary. Where this comes from is love, the spaces that are held, that I co-hold, the spaces that do not proscribe any particular kind of excellence or achievement, but celebrate the momentousness of shifts in thinking, in behaviour, in each person’s individual framing of their own experience. Seriously, these places are amazing.

Reading today: The Utopia of Rules by David Graeber. The essay on science fiction and games in particular, which are good companions to the rollicking conversation Graeber had with Peter Thiel. I’m so late to this party but there are still plenty of people dancing. The layers of the system, the bureaucracy backed by violence, the indoctrination into the belief in the need for such bureaucracies, the fashioning of a financial system that requires the enforcement of these beliefs and behaviours, and all of it something to wake up and believe in again every day. I’m way too vague in this description but how can I sum it up succinctly?

This year my intention is to collaborate to build technology that has enough openness to allow for spaces to emerge that don’t require violence to manage as well as enough structure and design to encourage practices of coming together that foster belonging, mattering, and choice. Saying this, I guess I’m making this a special day, even if setting that intention really isn’t any different from any of the days of last year. Saying things out loud. Let me pour it into the hole I’ve built for it to hold up everything else, as concrete as it can be, and hey, here we go, twentytwentythree.