Slack

by Kent Aitken

---

This isn't a thorough exploration of slack's role in organizations, just a few things that were on my mind recently. Would love to hear your thoughts.

But first, an aside

I've been living in Ottawa for seven years, while most of my family lives on the east coast. My mom's side of my family usually has a mid-summer and a Christmas get-together each year, and I haven't made it back east for either in years. It eats at me. It'd be worth my while, but every year I run quickly into the limits of my vacation days and travel budget, especially when it's a given that I'll be going back to PEI to visit my dad, and Newfoundland to visit my farthest-flung brother.

This has been a powerful dynamic in my life for the last half-decade. Every time I book a trip I'm both excited and conflicted, aware that I'm making tradeoffs, aware that some people - that I think very highly of - will go unvisited in a given year.

Collaboration and relationship-building (or, policy and communications, and never the twain shall meet)

To segue somewhat: last week a speaker was asking where the communications people were at a public administration conference. Some people pointed to general tension or misunderstanding between the two worlds, and I threw in a more functional reason, analogous to the above story. We are, as they say, in "an era of fiscal restraint," with tight scrutiny on travel, conference, and training budgets. We all understand that the lines between fields such as policy and communications are blurring, that there are inter-dependencies, and that collaboration is incredibly important. But for an given practitioner, staying informed about their field is still the primary concern, and they're naturally going to maintain relationships with their core community first.

Economically, it's like an artificial cultural ceiling on the supply and demand of public servant relationship-building and collaboration. The question is whether that ceiling is appropriately set in pursuit of broader system goals.

It has become en vogue to ask about communities and conferences, "Who else needs to be here? Who else should we be talking to?" Which is a good question, but if you can't get to their communities, and your community is a few bullets down the priority list for them, it's impractical to expect anyone to bridge that gap.

Creating slack, in this case, would be treating relationship-building with core communities as a given - creating room on the margins to better understand the peripheral players that influence our portfolios.

Innovation

Google's 20% innovation time doesn't work for everyone. We were all excited about it five years ago, but if it doesn't square with culture, if innovation isn't actually a core goal (which is often appropriate), or if your work doesn't progress through that style of idea generation, it's a silver bullet with no gun and no werewolves.

Since, we've matured in our debate about free time and innovation. Is it slack in the system that generates innovation? Or pressure? It's hard to say, and the only true answer is probably "it depends". However, a recent research paper adds an interesting thesis to the debate (h/t). The short version of the paper: school breaks lead to a sharp increase in Kickstarter ideas being launched and funded because it creates time for mundane tasks.

Their conclusion is that slack time does indeed lead to innovation, but not for the reasons we thought. Instead of allowing creativity and the generation of ideas, slack time allows people the time to execute and move their ideas forward.

However, many public administrators opt for the pressure approach, or are limited to it as an option. In an age of "do better with less", I've seen a worrying trend of people being forced to rush the "better." These are ideas that might work, given the time to do it right. But when people are asked to Innovate right now!, pressure gets the better of rigour.

Slack

Slack, as it's traditionally regarded, is expensive. However, it seems probable that it's often worth it, albeit in hard-to-measure ways. If that's true, we have two options: create slack, or re-define activities like relationship-building, idea-sharing, focus-grouping, assumption-testing, and the like — those intangibles often first in line for the chopping block — as part of the job description, as part of the ongoing pressure. 

Fighting Mental Health Dragons

by Kent Aitken

---

The Clerk of the Privy Council recently released the 22nd Annual Report to the Prime Minister on the Public Service of Canada. Which, as everyone else has noted, we should all read.

One of the three priorities for the coming year is mental health: "building a healthy, respectful and supportive work environment." I'm glad that it's being flagged as a public-service wide issue. The statistics and figures are jarring. But the change will come at the person-to-person level, through empathy with what individuals experience — or at least, understanding that what others experience will not, cannot, and should not match what you experience.

Reasonable orders

In the movie How to Train Your Dragon, there’s a scene where Gobber (a big, burly viking) tells the protagonist, Hiccup (the only non-big, non-burly viking), “If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all... this.”

“But you just pointed to all of me.”

He can't follow that advice, and it's crazy to ask him to.

People see the world in different ways. People experience the events and environment of the workplace in different ways. Susan Cain’s book Quiet argues that modern Western culture — including our workplaces — is built around an ideal of extroverted people. Demographic divides have long played a role in success, and people tend to hire people that look and think like them. Mental health is definitely not yet fully understood or appreciated in the workplace.

In How to Train Your Dragon, the status ladder was created by big, burly vikings for big, burly vikings. Likewise, certain types of people have built our institutions in their image.

In the workplace, we run programs, develop internal policies, restructure organizations, navigate relationships, manage employees, and provide feedback and advice. There are times when we do these things fairly and constructively. And then there are other times, when our demands sound to the recipients like “Y’know, it’d be great if you were a different person altogether.”

Telling someone with interpersonal anxiety to speak up more in meetings. Suggesting that women adopt male stereotypes to get ahead in their career (hat tip to Suzanne Huggins for a great post). Telling someone with ADHD to focus. (And it doesn't even need to be telling. Norms and culture do the job.)

"Stop all... this."

Over the last few years I've had more and more conversations with people that are on the short end of a workplace built for the average, not the distribution, of people and personalities. It does not surprise me that mental health is the problem it is today, and it will require a massive leap forward on all of our parts to improve. And we need to do it.

Imagine someone telling you that to be a public servant, to respond to that calling, “You need to stop all… this,” and pointing to your whole life.

On Prescriptions for the Public Service

by Kent Aitken

---

I'd like to propose a new litmus test for how we consider changes. I hinted at it last week (see: Influence, Organizations, and Team Players), when I said that there could be a divide between the advice I'd give the public service writ large and the advice I'd give an individual that I care about.

But that divide has been on my mind for a while, in the context of this blog as well as the general advice public servants have been getting from many sources:

• public sector leaders
• the Destination 2020 report on the future of the Canadian Public Service
• the Flat, Flexible, and Forward-Thinking report from Public Policy Forum on the leadership skills needed today
• the Public Service of Canada's Key Leadership Competencies (currently under revision, and it seems as though they'll largely align to Destination 2020)

Consider, for example, this graphic from Destination 2020:

Source

Which lays out the "work from anywhere at anytime" and "more flexible" public service envisioned for 2020.

From the external Public Policy Forum (albeit with much input from public servants), we hear that public service leaders must be persuasive entrepreneurs:

"...leaders need to be able to break down complex ideas and convince others of the best course of action, especially when unpopular policies are being proposed."

Shrewd diplomats:

"...leaders need to work with elected officials and their own teams to ensure that accountability measures do not undermine innovation, productivity, or talent management. They must respect the pressures facing government, but also focus on building a high-performing public service."

And fearless advisors:

"[Leaders need to do] the right thing, regardless of the consequences..."

And generally speaking, I'd agree with all of this advice. But I have to admit that the rubric changes when I shift from thinking the public service should do X, Y, and Z to imagining giving advice to a close friend, a sibling, or a child who has just joined the public service.

Would I tell them to push for flexible work arrangements or leeway to collaborate with stakeholders and colleagues? To push back on senior leaders, whether political or public servant, to do the right thing? Or, to be a team player, to bide their time, to not rock the boat?

I suspect we'd all find instances of advice that we'd offer to crowds, but not to close relations. Which is not to say that we're hypocrites or liars. Rather, that culture is a lumbering beast to turn; and that we're not done yet.

Quick Notes from the GTEC Conference

by Kent Aitken

---

Monday's notes

I've been attending GTEC - the Government Technology Exhibition and Conference - for four or five years now. My first public service job was (a non-IT job) in an IT branch, and I wanted to dig in. I went once, and it stuck.

The underlying, unofficial theme since I've been going is that technology leaders have to be business leaders, capable of managing people and portfolios, acting as strategic partners to CEOs. This is what I've found most interesting: how do subject matter experts become managers and leaders? How does one develop a sense of strategy?

It's these broad, business-meets-IT questions that I'm drawn to, and they form the basis of my shortlist of interesting snippets from last week at GTEC.

• We can think of leadership in multiple ways: business leadership, thought leadership, and change leadership. The point made here was that as interesting and appealing as thought leadership is, and as necessary as change leadership is in turbulent times, 85% of what keeps organizations humming is "good, old fashioned business leadership". That which is unexciting, normalized, day-to-day, and hopefully effective.

• Engaging all employees is not as simple as communicating to all employees, and often the best way to figure out what people want is not necessarily to ask them what they want. The quote here was to work with "the right people, in the right way" - which sounds simple but is often overlooked. If I may editorialize, there are very few skills we learn for which the intuitive approach is the most effective. Think golf swings, card games, cooking - anything. There's always some level of sophistication we eventually reach, or can be taught. The term beginner's mistake is common for a reason, yet we often apply intuitive (and wrong) approaches to management, leadership, and in this case, employee engagement.

• Security and privacy are, and will be, the foundation of every government decision on information technology. You could tell because every other sentence was about security and privacy. Don't get me wrong: this is actually the level of importance that should be assigned, and it provides the reassurance that security and privacy sit duly highly in government's decision-making framework. But the fact that governments are taking it seriously needs to become a boring base assumption, so that government IM/IT leaders can actually talk about information and strategy instead.

That's the shortlist, but there was much more. And there are two other talks with a shared theme that I'd like to highlight, but I'll do that in a standalone post later.

Three thoughts on leaders and leadership

by Nick Charney

---

As you likely know I joined the Institute on Governance (IOG) via an interchange in January of this year.

I've since taken on additional responsibilities, a new title and started the IOG's Executive Leadership Program. In fact, the program kicked off this week with a two day executive retreat.

It was an incredibly rich two days but rather than sing the program's praises, I wanted to quickly share three of my early takeaways from the program (which I scribbled down in my learning journal):

1. Leadership is a process of influence that happens in a group to achieve a result. 
2. It is about resilience, both personal and institutional, good leaders are able to turn the former into the latter. 
3. We often rely on our own strengths and talents, good leaders play to the strengths and talents of others.

Cheers (and happy Halloween!)

Change and Inertia

by Kent Aitken

---

One quick note: last night was the final event of Richard Pietro's Open Government Tour. Richard is a citizen who has been riding his motorcycle across Canada since July 2, speaking about Open Government, purely because he believes in it.

The motorcycle does indeed have "Open Data" and "Open Gov" decals. Richard was holding the camera for this one.

I just want to say congratulations to Richard and encourage you to check out that link - it's an inspiring display of creativity, drive (to the point of virtuous audacity), and civic engagement.


"Change is the new normal," I heard recently. True. But it's also the old normal. It's just what happens.

At this point in the post you can choose your own adventure: enjoy six minutes with Toronto CIO Rob Meikle on change and our attitudes towards it, or skip to the next paragraph.

The fascinating flipside to constant change is when we want to change, or when we're told to change, or when we're informed of change and... nothing really happens.

This could be personal habits, organizational pivots, or attempts to influence a community. It comes with some form of the message "This is what's going to happen, and this is what is needed from you."

But we get that message dozens of times a day. And without reinforcement, it sounds like noise. What's missing is the sustained commitment, the signalling that sets apart this particular change, and our day-to-day experience feeling different after that decision point. 

The world around us is changing, one shock after another. New technologies, new demands from citizens, new crises in governance, or in that which is governed. New demands on ourselves to constantly learn and adapt. Yet, in many ways things stay rock steady. The conversations have changed staggeringly in the last half decade, but the day-to-day experience is sometimes exactly the same.

We have to recognize that organizations and people have tremendous inertia, which is a reasonable approach to staying sane and filtering false signals about change. But when we really need to change, we need to stop approaching it like this:

A sudden effort, at one moment in time. No one can feel it.

Impatience is a Virtue

by Kent Aitken

---

Last July Nick and I spoke at Next Gen Gov about storytelling for professional impact. One of the examples we pointed to was Jon Stegnar’s glove shrine, as told in Chip and Dan Heath’s book Switch.

Here’s the long story short: Stegnar worked for a large manufacturer, and noticed an opportunity for huge savings by overhauling their purchasing process. To convince his executives of the need, Stegnar sought out a tangible example, emblematic of the wider process, in how they bought gloves for workers. Different factories were paying different prices for the same thing, in one case buying $5 gloves for $17. So he piled all of the 424 different pairs of gloves the manufacturer was buying on a boardroom table, price tags attached, and invited his executives to visit. Eyes opened, and he was given a mandate for change.

We told the story as an example of the importance of storytelling: knowing your audience and what matters to them, and provoking a memorable reaction - we contrasted the approach to our standard fare of spreadsheets and briefing notes. But I always felt that Stegnar’s glove shrine story was bigger than a lesson in persuasion.

The Bigger Picture

To me, it’s a story about caring deeply about results, and being willing to stick your neck out to see things done right. Stegnar could have written a briefing note, attached a spreadsheet, and sent it on its way. Dusted off his hands and thought, “I did my job.” He didn’t.

Some open data advocates, supported by Code for America, collaborated on a book called Beyond Transparency (Hard copy, or free (and editable) Github version). It’s a collection of reflections, case studies, and future directions for open data and civic innovation. But reading the case studies, the common thread has been that the people driving open data projects were very, very serious about achieving meaningful results in an area new to many people, and they were willing to break parameters to do it (see: When Parameters are the Problem).

One of the contributors, Mark Headd, wrote a blog post about his time as Philadelphia's Chief Data Officer, in hopes that his lessons learned would be “of value to anyone interested in starting an open data program.”

Don’t Hang Any Pictures

You should read it. In my view, it’s actually a blog post about public service and dedication to results.

The Public Service Paradox

I use my favourites in Twitter as a temporary bookmark system, to shunt links to my evenings to read. But there are a scant handful that I refuse to get rid of:

When advocating for change within large organizations, impatience is a virtue. #opendata
— Mark Headd (@mheadd) December 21, 2013

Ottawa is a highly courage-efficient town. You don't need much of the stuff at all to be worshipped like the monolith in Kubrick's 2001.
— Paul Wells (@InklessPW) May 20, 2013

This is our paradox as public servants: we have to be, simultaneously, incredibly impatient and patient about making progress. And at the same time, we have to look at the many, many people working towards making Canada a better country - trusting colleagues, stakeholders, and citizens to succeed - and still think, “This place needs me to go big.”