startups – Faster Than 20

The Secret to High-Performance Collaboration: Slowing Down

At my previous consultancy, we used to spend a considerable amount of time debriefing every engagement, big or small. We were meticulous in our analysis, nitpicking every detail.

Over time, I started noticing a few patterns. First, I realized that our debriefs were largely ineffective, because we weren’t taking the time to integrate what we learned. We needed to be reviewing past debriefs before new engagements in order to remind ourselves of what we had learned and in order to hold ourselves accountable to improvement. Without that additional space, our debriefs were essentially exercises in self-criticism and generating lists, two skills we didn’t need to be practicing.

Second, a few things began to jump out at me as I reviewed our long list of things we could have done better. Almost without fail, when we had “bad” engagements, someone had slept poorly the night before. Or someone had been working while sick. Or someone had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning. (Forgetting to eat was my personal bane.)

We had spent hours and hours and hours debriefing, and this is what we learned:

When we didn’t take care of ourselves, our performance suffered.
When we didn’t take time to remind ourselves of past lessons, we repeated the same mistakes.

One of my mentors, Gail Taylor, is always encouraging me to seek the simplicity embedded in complexity. What I’ve realized over the years is that, when I find it, I often dismiss it. It seems too obvious. There has to be something else.

Slowly, but surely, I’m breaking this habit, and I’m starting to see more clearly as a result. Which brings me to my biggest insight over the past several months.

The best thing we can do to improve collaborative effectiveness is to slow down.

This has been coming up for me over and over again with all of my recent projects and experiments.

I’m currently doing an experiment with the Code for America incubator in trying to help new companies establish good collaborative habits right from the start. PostCode (the company with which I’m working) is working at a startup pace, and they’ve had inevitable challenges as they move through their storming phase.

Fortunately, when problems crop up, they deal with them quickly. In those situations, they’ve often reached out to me about possible toolkits to help them navigate their challenges. My answer has been consistent: Slow down. They haven’t found the time (beyond the work we’ve done with them, which has been too constrained) for critical conversations about organizational strategy, culture, and group dynamics. It’s understandable. They’re under a tremendous amount of pressure, and in those situations, conversations about strategy and group dynamics can feel like a nice-to-have, not a need-to-have.

Last week, I facilitated a practitioners workshop for the Garfield Foundation on collaborative networks. For one of the Open Space sessions, I led a group through the power workout I developed for Changemaker Bootcamp. We had a wonderful, nuanced conversation about power dynamics, and several people asked, “How do we make sure we have more of these conversations with our constituencies?” My response: “The first step is making the time.”

Telling others (or even yourself) to slow down is easy. Actually doing it is hard. We move fast because of external pressures, mindsets, habits, cultural norms, and so forth. We have little control over most of these things, and what little we can control is incredibly hard to change. But there are tricks that I’ve found helpful over the years.

Experiments. Changing habits is hard, and you will likely fail many times. Approaching the challenge of slowing down as a series of experiments helps. As I wrote previously, one of the keys to a successful experiment is to hold yourself accountable to the results. Failure is okay as long as you’re committed to the intention and are actively incorporating what you learn into new experiments.

If you are truly committed to slowing down, write it down. Write, “Slow down,” on a piece of paper, and put it up where you will see it. Actively devise and track experiments that will help you do this, so that you can monitor your progress and see what’s working and what’s not.

For important conversations — whether it be organizational strategy or a project debrief — schedule those in advance as part of your project plan, and track whether or not they actually happen. If they don’t happen, take the time to examine why, and devise another experiment. The beauty of applying an experimental framework is that simply the process of devising and tracking an experiment is an act of slowing down.

Checkins. My former business partner, Kristin Cobble, recently wrote a wonderful piece on the power of checkins. She describes them mostly in the context of meetings as a way to invite participation and to garner a sense of the collective whole. What I’ve learned over the past several months is that they also serve a much simpler, deeper function. They force you to slow down and reflect — even if just for a moment.

Starting last year, I embarked on a simple experiment with my friend, Seb Paquet, who’s based in Montreal and who, like me, works for himself. We decided to check in with each other once a week for an hour over Skype. We didn’t have any agenda. We would simply use that time to have an extended checkin.

We ended up doing two phases, and it served to be tremendously valuable. Not only did it deepen our relationship, it served several practical purposes. We both had an opportunity to give each other feedback on our respective projects. We supported each other when we faced challenges and cheered each other when we succeeded. The most interesting thing to happen was that, even when things got tremendously busy for both of us, we both stayed very committed to these checkins. They were not just nice-to-have; they were helping us work more effectively.

Inspired by these results, I invited my colleagues Pete Forsyth, Rebecca Petzel, Odin Zackman, and Amy Wu — who all work independently — to participate in a similar experiment earlier this year. We wanted to experiment with ways that we — as an informal network — could achieve the same (or better) benefits that people get from working in great organizations. In particular, we wanted to be more intentional about learning from each other. We called our experiment, Colearning 2.0, a play on the coworking movement.

We explored several things that we could do together, but we settled on doing weekly pair checkins, as Seb and I had done beforehand. There was some reluctance at first. One thing we all had in common was a frequent feeling of overwhelm, and taking an hour out of our week to “just talk” seemed burdensome. Not only did everyone end up finding the experience valuable, there’s a desire to continue the practice and take it to the next level.

I recently spoke with Joe Hsueh about his recent trip to Istanbul. One of the things that struck him the most about his trip was the adhan — the Islamic call to prayer. Imagine being in a bustling city of 14 million people where every day, at prescribed times, a horn sounds and the entire city goes silent. Imagine what it feels like to have that regular moment of collective, silent reflection.

I believe that checkins could be a powerful keystone habit that helps us slow down overall, which ultimately helps us collaborate more effectively. This is a hypothesis I continue to explore.

What helps you to slow down? What’s been the impact of doing so?

The Key to Effective Learning? Soap Bubbles!

Part three of a three-part essay on facilitating group learning. See parts one, “Getting real about experiments and learning,” and two, “Documenting is not learning.”

Two months ago, I blogged about my experiment with Dharmishta Rood and the Code for America Incubator, which wraps up in another few months. The goal is to help startups — in this case, a company called PostCode — develop great collaborative habits in its formative stage. The theory is that it’s more effective to build good habits from the start than it is to try to change bad habits later.

About a third of the way into our experiment, Dharmishta and I started discussing whether or not we thought it was working. We thought that it was, but we weren’t sure whether or not the folks at PostCode would agree. “We’re missing soap bubbles,” Dharmishta asserted.

“Huh?!” I responded.

Soap, Dharmishta explained, does not naturally produce bubbles. Manufacturers add chemicals to make soap lather, even though the resulting bubbles have no impact on cleanliness. In fact, some chemicals have adverse effects, such as drying out skin.

Why do they do this? Because people associate bubbles with cleanliness. If we don’t see the bubbles, we assume it’s not working, regardless of whether or not that’s the case.

When assessing progress, how you feel matters.

If you’re learning, and you feel like you’re learning, then all is good.
If you’re learning, but you’re not feeling like you’re learning, then you have a problem. You may stop doing things that are working, because you don’t realize that they’re actually effective. This is where adding soap bubbles can be useful.
If you’re not learning, but you feel like you’re learning, then you also have a problem. There is where adding soap bubbles can be harmful.

Given this, how do you design soap bubbles into your learning processes that help, rather than harm you?

It starts by being real about what you can and can’t measure, and it quickly shifts to remembering what you’re trying to achieve in the first place. There is always an intention underlying our instinct to measure, but sometimes, the complexity around measurement causes us to forget that intention.

I’m generally trying to help groups learn how to collaborate more effectively. I want feedback mechanisms that reinforce good habits and discourage bad ones. In PostCode’s case, Dharmishta and I wanted to make sure that the team was communicating and making decisions effectively. We thought that we were seeing progress, but we weren’t sure that the team was seeing the same things we were. We were (and still are) worried that the team would discard the practices before they became habit.

We designed a monthly “assessment” to help PostCode track its progress, and when we started exploring ways to measure effectiveness around communication and decision-making, we decided to take a different approach. Rather than attempting to quantify those things (as we were doing with the other dimensions we were tracking), we decided to ask qualitative questions:

Please share up to three examples of great, effective communication over the past month.
Please share up to three examples where communication could have been better over the past month.

(We asked the same questions about decision-making.) These questions will not provide some “objective” measure of how well the company is communicating as a whole or whether or not it is improving over time. However, they will:

Encourage everybody to regularly pause and reflect
Surface people’s different perceptions of what is good and what is not
Identify problems that need fixing while they’re still fresh
Remind people to celebrate what’s going well

Most importantly, these questions will remind everybody that communication matters, and that they should be practicing consciously and with an eye to improve. The very act of pausing to answer these questions on a monthly basis means that they are. These questions act as soap bubbles, but they also help clean!

Measurement is important, but feedback is even moreso. Figuring out the right things to measure is hard, but creating feedback mechanisms is not. Soap bubbles may not give you objective indicators for tracking progress, but they will — at minimum — remind people of what they’re trying to accomplish and to be conscious of when it’s happening.

Photo by Umberto Salvagnin. CC BY 2.0.

Organizational Development as Product Design

I got my start in the tech industry. Even though that was a lifetime ago, I’ve carried over many lessons from that experience, and I like to keep one foot in that door. One lens I still carry with me is that of product design.

I’m currently embarking on an experiment with Dharmishta Rood, who runs the incubator at Code for America. The gist of the experiment is this: Changing organizational habits is hard. Starting new habits is easy. If you want to build a high-performance, collaborative organization, the best thing you can do is instill good habits right from the start. Incubators are in a great position to do just that.

Code for America is trying to help local government truly live up to its promise of for the people, by the people. Its central activity is a fellowship program that connects designers and developers with local governments for a year. Think Teach for America for geeks. On the surface, these fellows design innovative applications for local government. On a deeper level, these fellows help change the culture of local government. It’s an amazing organization, and I’ve been a proud supporter for many years now.

Sometimes, fellows want to continue working on their apps beyond the fellowship. Last year, Code for America started an incubator program to help their fellows do just that. One of the many things that Dharmishta does is find mentors and trainings to improve her startups’ chances at success. One of the services she wanted to provide for her current class — a great new startup called PostCode — was help with getting better at collaboration.

I’m looking for ways to scale collaborative literacy. Helping an incubator instill great collaborative habits with civic startups seemed like a wonderful opportunity to do exactly that. The twist was that I didn’t want to do the work. I know how to do that already, and I know that I’m not scalable. Instead, I wanted to see if I could create a toolkit that Dharmishta could implement on her own with some behind-the-scenes coaching on my part. Dharmishta and PostCode both graciously agreed to try this experiment with me.

This is essentially a product design challenge, and it’s been incredibly humbling. We whipped together a prototype in just a few weeks, but I based it on years of experience, and I thought it would be great. It’s been solid so far, but not great. Watching Dharmishta and PostCode work through the toolkit behind-the-scenes has been an exercise in frustration — not with them, but with my own work. It’s uncovered all sorts of flaws and faulty assumptions, and because I’m not the one implementing it, I can’t make adjustments on the fly, which I do regularly in my own practice. It’s providing value, but it’s not living up to my expectations.

Which is exactly the point. Unless you’re incredibly lucky, you’re not going to get it right on the first try. Good product design is about getting your best first guess out there as quickly as possible and learning as quickly as possible based on real world usage. You take your lumps early so that you have a better chance of getting to the right answer quickly (and cheaply).

I wrote in an earlier post:

In order to design an effective tool, [product designers] use powerful methods for understanding how their customers think and feel and for measuring the impact of their interventions. Most process designers would do well to learn the tools of product design.

Most process designers I know have a very limited toolkit. They are typically over-dependent on meetings to accomplish their goals. (The exception to this are folks I know in tech startups, who tend to have more of a — you guessed it — product mindset when developing their own organizations.)

The bigger problem is that most process designers do not spend enough time up-front thinking about how to measure success. This ends up being fine, because most don’t bother to assess their work afterward anyway, outside of a casual, gut-feel conversation with a very narrow set of people.

I can say all of these things without judgement, because I have been guilty of all of these things. Doing these things well requires a tremendous amount of discipline, practice, and boldness. Frankly, I don’t know many product designers who do all these things well either. But on average, I find that product designers have a very different mindset than process designers.

What exactly is this mindset? That you don’t know all the answers. That underneath your considerable experience lies a foundation of faulty assumptions. That the way to learn is to move forward constantly, but thoughtfully, to iterate rapidly, to assess obsessively, and to assume that you will fail many times before you succeed.

This is the approach that I’ve been taking with the “product” that Code for America and PostCode has been using. They are both tremendously busy, but they have been great about playing with the toolkit. PostCode is a company full of product designers, and that mindset is strongly engrained in Code for America’s culture as well. (Code for America is an ardent evangelist and practitioner of the Lean approach, whose chief evangelist, Eric Ries, serves on its board.) They understand the spirit of what I’m trying to do, which has helped me a lot in doing this experiment.

This shared understanding has also helped me explain some principles of organizational development with them. PostCode is grappling with the typical startup challenges — lots of opportunities, but also lots of uncertainty, the need to focus in light of this uncertainty, and the challenges of norming as a team in the midst of the thousands of other things they need to be doing. They need to go fast, but they also recognize the importance of slowing down.

We were discussing the challenges of deciding on decision-making processes, and I latched onto something very wise that one of them said: Sometimes, things will actually work themselves out if you just let them play out. You want to be thoughtful and reflective, but you can’t let that paralyze you. The value of actually trying something, then stopping to reflect, is that now you’re basing your decisions on real data rather than on a bunch of competing, subjective, abstract notions. That’s a product designer’s mindset, and organizational development practitioners would do well to adopt it.

The trick is finding the balance between doing the work and taking a step back, doing the work and taking a step back. That’s what I’m trying to help them do. It’s an incredibly hard balance to learn how to strike. Clients have been hiring me to help them with this for years, yet I found it extremely difficult to do myself when starting up my own company a few years ago. I continue to improve, but I’m still in that cycle of trying and learning.