Showing posts with label public service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label public service. Show all posts

Wednesday, 30 November 2016

Public Service: The Long Game and the Dark Side


by Kent AitkenRSS / cpsrenewalFacebook / cpsrenewalLinkedIn / Kent Aitkentwitter / kentdaitkengovloop / KentAitken

I’m optimistic. About the public service, its mission and work, and my role in it.

Teresa Amabile analysed journal entries for months from 238 employees in 7 countries, and determined that the singular difference between a good day and a bad day for a professional is whether or not they made progress on meaningful work. That’s it. Just that they got to do their job, and they felt that it meant something.

We can zoom out and look at Corporate Executive Board’s research on employee engagement. They didn’t get into journal entries, but surveyed 11,000 employees around the world and came to a similar conclusion: the number one driver of employee engagement is the sense of connection between what you’re doing and the organization’s mission.

And if I wanted to really hammer the point home, Gallup did a meta-analysis - an analysis of other analyses - of 1,390,941 employees. Same thing. Connection to mission comes out as the number one driver.

This kind of engagement is emotional. It’s something you feel, day to day.

Which is sometimes hard to reconcile with a mission of long-term stewardship.

In the public service jobs are, by their nature, part of a long-term mission. Political parties come and go and we stick with the ship of state. In Canada our senior civil servants are modelled after “Permanent Secretaries” in the UK, charged with making sure that departments function smoothly through political changes. The values and ethics code includes Stewardship and Respect for Democracy as pillars.

Although you’d be more likely to hear those pillars interpreted in the news as “risk-averse” or “slow-moving.” Thick skins required.

For individual public servants, this grandiose role of stewardship gets broken down, then broken down more, into day-to-day tasks. Sometimes this is exciting and engaging, and sometimes it is decidedly not. But it’s all a part of something bigger. Public service is about the long game.

When I first started in the public service, I admittedly wasn’t incredibly excited about my job, for the most part. I sat in my cube wondering if I could do this for the rest of my life. Eventually, I decided I’d stop worrying about it, and did the most bureaucratic thing possible to do so: I set an appointment in Outlook to worry about it later, on my three-year anniversary of public service employment.

This was a mistake.

As it turns out, the three-year mark is when you’re statistically likely to hit rock bottom for engagement in your career. For your first three years you’re full of enthusiasm, ideas, and idealism. But then you start running into obstacles, limits, and the realization that as a public servant you don’t get to do everything you want, or even all the things you think are in the public interest.

And to be honest, I was wrong a lot. Many of those obstacles are purposeful and useful, and they are, if nothing else, democratically legitimate. But it doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt a little when you run into them.

This is the dark side. You can rationally appreciate the long-term calling, but you still want the emotional day-to-day engagement.

So what happens to your level of engagement as time stretches towards the end of your career?

You start getting more responsibility, more control over outcomes, and more involved in the bigger mission of the organization. In fact, executives (in general, not necessarily government) tend to be the most satisfied with their jobs. I’ll stress tend - I have immense concern and sympathy for the all-too-real and prevalent mental health challenges for many over-taxed executives. The satisfaction is not universal, and the distribution is more interesting than the average. 

But for young public servants, that’s ages away. It’s hard to think about where you’ll be, and if you’ll be happy, 20 years from now. I mean, you should be happy now. 35 years of service would put my retirement date at May 5, 2044.

2044.

That is hecking terrifying. That is a date that only ever crosses my consciousness in science fiction. Even Star Wars happened before then.


Of course, it all depends on how we look at it.

Here’s some homework. Take out a sheet of paper and write the date ten years ago. November 30, 2006. And start making a list of everything you know how to do now, everything you understand, everything you’re good at, that you weren’t, then. That you’ve learned in the last decade.

It’ll be a long list.

Think about all those things, then start imagining what’s possible in the next ten years. The next 20. The next 30. That’s your horizon. Don’t worry about specifics, now, just the overall potential.

I, for one, am very excited about what is possible over this long horizon. The kinds of projects I’ll be able to contribute to, and the kinds of meaningful progress we’ll be able to make, individually and more importantly, together. I can look at that 2044 date and think “I’m going to get to work on so much amazing stuff by then.”

Listen to this man:


Jen Palhka, founder of Code for America and former White House Deputy CTO, said that to work in government you need to hold two contradictory thoughts in your head at once. “You need to love government, yet want to change it.“

The problem with thinking about change in fiscal years, or even three-year stretches, is that nothing happens. Ever. It’s like the turtle that keeps on getting halfway to the finish line, but never quite reaches it.

Even three years is too short for massive changes unless something breaks. Public servants are here to be stewards, the steady hand on the wheel, but that means the job is to keep things from breaking, not wait for turmoil to ensue when it does.

But the crazy thing is that they actually do happen. New Public Management actually happened. That’s a massive change. And now, of course, we have to un-change it, and that’s a nightmare. But it happened. The public service is capable of significant course changes.

Public servants don't get to scream what they think. But they're close to the fulcrum of the levers of change. When the lever moves, it can have a lot of impact for a lot of people.

Interpret that as both reward and duty.

At many points you will be the ones with the hard decisions. It’ll be up to you to think about stewardship and respect for democracy and to not say no because it’s easier than saying yes.

If you forget how important your job is, it will immediately become unimportant.

If you forget how much is possible, many things immediately become impossible.

If you ever say “it can’t be done”, or “there's no appetite for that,” you'll be right, because you just made it that way.

It’s about the long haul, not the quick wins. That’s the mission to connect to. When you feel like you’re missing that piece on any one day, remember the long game.

Wednesday, 17 September 2014

Change and Inertia

by Kent AitkenRSS / cpsrenewalFacebook / cpsrenewalLinkedIn / Kent Aitkentwitter / kentdaitkengovloop / KentAitken


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.

Tuesday, 5 August 2014

Impossible Conversations - The Entrepreneurial State: Debunking Public vs. Private Sector Myths


Kent AitkenRSS / cpsrenewalFacebook / cpsrenewalLinkedIn / Kent Aitkentwitter / kentdaitkengovloop / KentAitken


Note: for this review/reflection, we're experimenting with formats, aiming for more of a dialog that better reflects the evening we spent talking about the book in person (and via Google Hangouts). The result for this one - in my view - is a longer, but deeper and more worthwhile exploration. Would welcome feedback.


We’ve probably all heard or read the viewpoint that the behemoth of government is anything but innovative - it's slow and bureaucratic, but if we cut the red tape, perhaps if we lower taxes, the canny private sector will do its work.

This month’s book was The Entrepreneurial State by economist Mariana Mazzucato, who attempts to shake the foundations of that viewpoint. Drawing from anecdotes and economic models, her take is instead that governments are very much so in the innovation game, laying the foundations for future private capital-driven products and services. In particular, government has a distinct role in driving early and/or basic research, when returns on investments are more uncertain or long-term.

Much of the book is dedicated to correcting the (perceived) skewed discourse about innovation, the public sector, and the role of the state in markets. Later in the book, Mazzucato also tackles a particular angle of publicly-funded research: the idea that the long-term uncertainty and risk is borne by the public writ large through taxes, whereas the bulk of the rewards are privatized into select hands. In her view, this asymmetry hurts countries’ capacity for future innovation and funding.

Our discussion focused on a few key themes:
  1. The strength of her arguments: how many counter-examples could we find, and is the model she proposed complete? What’s the counterfactual, or, what would happen in the absence of government in a market failure?
  2. How this logic maps to the Canadian context: are we better to piggyback on the US or others, and does our system lend to risky, long-term investments from the public sector?
  3. The nature of innovation: what is innovation, and what is the difference between social, policy, and technological innovation? Is innovation necessarily a good thing? Does innovation disproportionately reward a subset of citizens?
And of course - as always, it seems - we hit on questions about the nature of the social contract, and this time added ponderings about humanity’s role in the history of the universe.


Tariq PirachaRSS / cpsrenewalFacebook / cpsrenewaltwitter / tariqpiracha


I must confess that the idea of government as a catalyst and prime investor of science and innovation is new to me and I missed a good portion of the discussion on the book. That said, I am not without opinion. 

I’m a bit torn about how to handle the relationships and the notion of the free-rider who takes the government-supported science to reap the rewards. The question that I have, and that I’m not sure Mazzucato answered, is how to ensure that rewards are socialized. This would likely be most salient for those who are focusing more and more on on open government and open data.

In terms of how this maps to the Canadian context, Mazzucato mentions a meso perspective that could serve us well: "The perspective is neither macro nor micro, but more meso, where individual firms are seen as part of broader network of firms with whom they cooperate and compete.” It’s the network perspective, the matrix of relationships and organizations across a broad spectrum of stakeholders that becomes the focus of analysis. This again gets back to Kent's post on deep understanding, that requires us to dig a little deeper about what we’re trying to accomplish and how we ensure the benefits of innovation are public good outcomes, not only private. 

I think that Mazzucato does present a compelling case that there is enormous opportunity for government and private sector cooperation on science and innovation. However, I felt that there was a gap in that she didn’t touch on the history of science and policy in a government context. UNESCO, for example, has an interesting history of trying to find some kind of balance between state interest in directing science, and a separation between science policy and the people actually doing the science. (See Martha Finnemore’s International organizations as teachers of norms: the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cutural 

In a nutshell, if we are going to talk about government’s role in backing the science behind innovation, and the public good, there’s some serious thinking to do around the motivations behind that support. Particularly, I think it is naive to assume that we’re all on the same page about what constitutes the public good or what role the government ought to be playing in support of science and innovation, whether that means more involvement, less involvement, or something in between. 





I think that many of the hesitations Tariq expresses on the government’s role in backing the science behind innovation relate back to our conversation’s third key theme: is innovation necessarily a good thing? I’d like to get back to that idea a bit later, but allow me to start by making a few points on one the earlier theme of the book’s methodology, which Kent mentioned above.

I can’t help but seek to poke a few holes in the author’s approach here. Indeed, Ms. Mazzuccato is often too quick to attribute causality, and then to derive grandiose conclusions on the strength of those attributions. That’s a big no-no.  

A second issue is that the portrait she draws is far from comprehensive. Sure, the book provides many examples of transformative technologies and of entire industrial sectors which (seemingly) owe their existence to state support.  But what about all those technologies and all those sectors which have had a transformative impact, and which didn’t receive any support?  The closest the author comes to addressing this is on page 62, when she quotes another scholar who argues that “... large-scale and long-term government investment has been the engine behind almost every GPT in the last century” (GPTs, or general purpose technologies, are those which have an impact on a wide variety of sector sin the economy and lead to economy-wide growth, like electricity or computers). But wait a minute, how many GPTs are we talking about here? And what about those which were largely driven by the private sector alone? Similarly, Mazzucato dispenses with the issue of failed attempts at state interventionism like the Concorde experiment or the American Supersonic Transport project by arguing that “[the State] was trying to do something much more difficult than what many private businesses do” (p. 18). That’s possible, but it doesn’t make the argument that the State fails often at picking winners irrelevant. A comprehensive survey would discuss how often the State succeeds and compare it to how often it fails.  

More broadly, a scientific approach to this kind of inquiry would involve selecting case studies on some objective basis, and attempting to suss out when and why State intervention succeeded or failed in each case. Here, in her quest to change discourse, the author selects a relatively small amount of examples which support her central claim, and does not treat them thoroughly.  

Kind of sounds like I didn’t really like the book and that I am ready to dismiss its argument, doesn’t it? Well, not quite.  Despite its omissions and the many shortcuts some of its examples take, the book does succeed in debunking the myth that the State cannot be entrepreneurial, by providing some key examples which are truly compelling, and also in identifying some of the conditions for successful State-led industrial innovation. My criticism is that it doesn’t give you a proper idea of how often the State acts entrepreneurially, or of how likely it is to succeed when it tries to - so I would caution anyone against taking Ms. Mazzucato’s new discourse at face value.

But back to this idea of the innovation being a good thing. Let’s say we are in fact convinced that it is possible for the State to successfully spur the development of new and transformative technologies.  The question then becomes, is this even an appropriate role? Is it possible for innovation to have an adverse impact on a nation’s citizenry? Are there certain technologies which the government should avoid supporting, whether for moral or other reasons? During the conversation, someone (*cough* Nick *cough*) even asked what kind of philosophical position could justify such a role for the State.  

All thought-provoking questions. My short answer: it is an important role for the state, because transformative technologies lead to economy-wide growth, which, while imperfect, is our best proxy for increases in living standards. Beyond that, ‘the fear of the robot’ is rooted in a miscomprehension of how labour markets operate (we would really only ever be justified in burning down the factories of robots capable of producing other robots); and, philosophically speaking, utilitarianism may provide a worthy framework for justifying such a role for the State - the average level of utils in society would go down significantly if you took away people’s computers and electricity, you know.   

But what did others think of this part of our conversation on the “value” of innovation? And does anyone out there find my methodological complaints to be too nitpicky, or otherwise unjustified?


Nick CharneyRSS / cpsrenewalFacebook / cpsrenewalLinkedIn / Nick Charneytwitter / nickcharneygovloop / nickcharneyGoogle+ / nickcharney


Obviously innovation is valuable, no one is against innovation, at least not publicly. I would echo Francis’ point above about the book being debunking the myth that the state can’t be entrepreneurial. But then again, I never thought it couldn’t be, so perhaps the book overall suffers a bit from preaching to the choir. I didn’t take issue with the methodology – everyone who has ever written anything is guilty to some extent of cherry picking, providing insufficient counterfactuals, or casting correlation as causation – in so much as I was disappointed that it wasn’t written in a more popular style because at the book casts government as solution rather than problem; and a more popular approach would make that argument more accessible.

Yes, I am guilty of asking the underlying question of whether or not people in the room thought it was the role of the state to support innovation and what school of political philosophy that view was informed by. I wasn’t trying to bog down the conversation in so much as tease out people’s view of the role of government. I’m always interested in people’s worldviews because as Tariq points out above, it would be naive to think we have a shared understanding of the public interest. Furthermore, how we see the view of the state informs how we go about our work in its service. We may be non-partisan by profession but I doubt any of us are a-political by nature.




As far as myth-busting and demonstrating the State’s role in the innovation ‘ecosystem’, I agree with fellow book clubbers: mission accomplished, as far as I’m concerned. I don’t know who’s tuning in to the sermon besides the choir, but it’s an important message. So often, innovation is portrayed as being the purview of creative geniuses, venture capitalists, and the private sector, in general:
We are constantly told that the State should have a limited role in the economy due to its inability to ‘pick winners’, whether the winners are new technologies, economic sectors or specific firms. But what is ignored is that, in many cases the State ‘failed’, it was trying to do something much more difficult than what many private businesses do: either trying to extend the period of glory of a mature industry (the Concorde experiment or the American Supersonic Transport project), or actively trying to launch a new technology sector (the Internet, or the IT revolution).
Mazzucato provides ample evidence that one of the ways the State is entrepreneurial is in its capacity and willingness to play the unpredictable long-game. It can take (arguably) required risks to invest in projects for the public good when and where no other entity is willing or able. Mazzucato doesn’t argue that the State is or should be the only player that drives innovation, but demonstrates that it’s a critical player. The State’s role in innovation isn’t simply a matter of economic growth and living standards, it’s also a matter of national security particularly when you consider the scale, scope, and what’s at stake over time (e.g. beyond shorter term potential pay-offs).

Karl Polanyi’s The Great Transformation was written at a different time, but its legacy lives on in The Entrepreneurial State. As Joseph Stiglitz writes in the Forward of the 2001 edition:
…Polanyi exposes the myth of the free market: there never was a truly free, self-regulating market system. In their transformations, the governments of today’s industrialized countries took an active role, not only in protecting their industries through tariffs, but also in promoting new technologies. In the United States, the first telegraph line was financed by the federal government in 1842, and the burst of productivity in agriculture that provided the basis of industrialization rested on the government’s research, teaching and extension services.
A lot has changed since then, including accelerating technological change, increasing interconnectedness, and a proliferation of societal actors who have a stake in the innovation game and the capacity to mobilize resources. Has the fundamental role of the State in promoting innovation for the public good changed? It’s likely evolving, but Mazzacuto makes a compelling case that (a) it still has an important role and, as Tariq mentions above, (b) there’s a need for a more “symbiotic” relationships between the public and private sectors (as a opposed “parasitic” ones): “Innovation cannot be pushed without the efforts of many, and it cannot proceed without a long-term vision that sets the direction and clarifies objectives.”


Kent AitkenRSS / cpsrenewalFacebook / cpsrenewalLinkedIn / Kent Aitkentwitter / kentdaitkengovloop / KentAitken


Conclusion: two notes in closing.

First, not everyone that participates in book club also jumps into these reviews and reflections, or, sometimes people are busy. So one dissenting view from the in-person discussion should be mentioned, which was the idea that the entire book took a narrow, non-inclusive view of progress and innovation, and that this bias undermined many of the arguments. I shan't expand, only because I'd certainly mangle the argument.

Second, the common threads from the above (at the risk of speaking for my confederates). One seems to be that if innovation is the goal, the common perception of government as an innovation black hole is wrong. At the very least, the story is more nuanced than that. And likely a lot longer, given the sorts of innovation we're talking about here (early medical research, infrastructure, GPTs). The other seems to be that we take much for granted that merits closer examination. The ideology of innovation - and of the public sector writ large - is far from universal. So, even if everyone's answer to "whether innovation is the goal" is yes, a conversation about why would be useful and revealing.

Friday, 27 June 2014

The Public Service as Ideology

by Tariq PirachaRSS / cpsrenewalFacebook / cpsrenewaltwitter / tariqpiracha

Having conversations over the past couple of months with other public servants, it struck me that I don’t think that I’ve ever sat back and thought about the public service as an ideology. But the more conversations I have about Blueprint 2020 or any past public service renewal initiative, the more I’m starting to believe that this is the case.

We tend to think about ideology as large ideas like democracy, communism, socialism, capitalism, religion. Any ideology, whatever it is, guides any population that identifies with it on how to act and how to make decisions. In some cases it will be large and mostly academic like the ideologies listed above. In other cases, it may be much more personal or agenda-driven. Their scope may also be somewhere in between.

I’m seeing hints of ideology in the conversations around the public service, both academic and at the operational level: Who public servants ought to be; what public servants ought to be doing; the direction in which the public service should be going. The most recent and trending examples would be open government, open data and digital engagement — these are all marinating in a particular ideology that guides not only the direction that the public service ought to go, but also conditions the way in which we conduct our business.

I'm not attributing any positive or negative values to open government, or any ideology for that matter. My point is this: the public service has an ideology.

There’s a grey area that exists between the public service and government. The public service is tasked with preserving the public good, giving advice, implementing policy and serving Canadians. But the public service, despite its supposed impartiality, does not exist in a vacuum.

When the public service was created, it had a narrow purpose: support the mandate of the government. Public Works was one such department that was created in 1841 to build roads, bridges, canals. It provided infrastructure support in a country that in its infancy required significant support and momentum-building.

But the public service has grown way beyond those imaginings, or mandate around the time of Confederation. It has certainly grown beyond the imaginings of any one politician. Yes, government determines mandate, but there are pressures that exist in Canada that no one person (or politician) can manage on their own. (Even in Sir John A Macdonald's time, and despite his best efforts, he couldn't manage everything.) In that sense, the public service is not just responsive to government, it has become responsive to, or feels a responsibility toward the public good; to Canadians.

But if that’s the case, the values under which the public service operates are multi-faceted. Add in the organizational principles or trends that influence to the public service like groupthink, New Public Management, bureaucratic politics, and we’re now looking at a very complex public service that is trying to walk a tightrope of competing and sometimes confusing values.

One way in which Blueprint 2020 differs from previous renewal initiatives is that it asks about a vision for the public service in 2020. It is unfortunate that the conversations around Blueprint 2020 are often not about a vision for 2020. From what I have seen, the conversations are revolving around functionality, technology, effectiveness, efficiency.

Nick has already made the same kind of argument (see: The Question Blueprint 2020 Should Have Asked But Didn’t) that the conversations are less about a vision for 2020 and more reflective of a desire to catch up and keep up. I’ve seen few, if any, conversations about vision, values and ideology that the catching up and keeping up are couched in.

While I don’t think everyone should stop what they’re doing, book a boardroom and explore their feelings, I do believe a conversation about the nature and values of the public service is important. (See: Collaboration is about shared values.)

It’s the proverbial cart before the horse—talking about what to change before talking about the values and vision that could or should guide those decisions. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that public service ideology is an elephant in the room—I don’t think people are avoiding it. I think most simply haven't thought about it.

And we may not all be on the same page.

Wednesday, 2 April 2014

Impatience is a Virtue

by Kent AitkenRSS / cpsrenewalFacebook / cpsrenewalLinkedIn / Kent Aitkentwitter / kentdaitkengovloop / KentAitken


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.”


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:


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.”