(PAEI) Incompatibilities
(P) and (A) incompatibility
Any combination of the four roles is incompatible, not just (P) and (E). Let’s look at another combination: (P) and (A).
When you play doubles in tennis, and a ball is coming at high speed directly to the center of the court, do you wait until you’re sure where it’s going to land before deciding who is responsible for hitting it back? Obviously not. Do you make a line in the middle with some whitewash so you and your partner know exactly who is responsible for what area? I don’t think so. You divide the court among yourselves, more or less. And when the ball hits the middle of the court, in the “gray area” of responsibility, then you both move for the ball. That is effective, because one of you will hit the ball, but it is not very efficient.
In the efficient scenario, no one moves until the ball has landed – although by that time it’s too late for anyone to return it. That, of course, is ineffective.
Effectiveness (P) and efficiency (A) are incompatible goals.
When you want to be very effective, you have difficulty being efficient. That’s why start-up companies, which are constantly putting out fires and dealing with unanticipated problems, are disorganized and inefficient. They accept the fact that organization and order – (A) – will have to wait.
The opposite is also true: If you are very efficient, you end up less effective. In other words, when you have too much (A), you end up with reduced (P). That is the case with bureaucracies, in which every detail is planned and no variable is left uncontrolled.
Ironically, the more control you have, the less control you feel you have – because the more control you have, the more granularity you have and the more deviations you can identify that need to be controlled. So what happens? As the granularity of control increases, the system becomes increasingly inflexible – thus non-responsive to the changing needs of its clients.
To use another tennis analogy: It is as if a player stands in one place, practicing and practicing until his hand and body movements are perfect, and then tells his opponent, “Send the ball here” – to the spot he practiced in, where he can be the most efficient. In reality, he can only hit the balls that come directly to his racquet. He is just going through the motions, hoping that when he swings, the ball will be there to be returned.
That is what I call being precisely wrong rather than being approximately right. And that is how bureaucracies work. Everything is planned and controlled to the minutest detail. No variable is left unattended. The fact that the ball – the client’s changing needs – is over there now instead of over here does not preoccupy anyone. They just go through the motions as planned for maximum efficiency and control. They are efficient to the extreme, making them inflexible and thus, eventually, extremely ineffective.
To be approximately right, to be effective, you must go to where the ball is, even if it means your body is not moving most efficiently. This dichotomy of form vs. function, effectiveness vs. efficiency, could be observed as the Berlin Wall came down and the Communist system started to thaw. That system experienced tremendous difficult in its transition to a market economy, because in order to be more market-driven and -oriented – in other words more effective – they had to learn to be less efficient, with less regulation, less government planning and supervision. But when I lectured at the Academy of Science in Russia and tried to explain this concept, it was like selling pork to Hassidic Jews. The whole Communist system was based on (A); switching to a (P) orientation needed more than learning new principles of accounting; it needed a huge cultural change.
This (P)/(A) incompatibility is in essence a struggle between form and function, and there are plenty of examples of that in life. For example, I used to wonder why women buy so many shoes. My wife explained it to me. She said a woman wants a sexy shoe. So she buys shoes that look good, but then they are not very comfortable; who would feel comfortable walking in high heels? So the next time, she buys comfortable shoes, but guess what? They don’t look sexy. Thus, those rooms full of shoes are the result of an endless and useless search for the perfect shoe in which form and function are in perfect balance, the impossible-to-find shoe that is both sexy and comfortable.
You may have noticed the same problem with teapots: The shape is very attractive, but the tea spills all over the table. In that case, form got a higher priority than function.
When something is created in which from and function, effectiveness and efficiency are in perfect balance, that creation is put in a museum; it is that rare.
(A)dministration vs. (I)ntegration incompatibility
Like (A), (I) is concerned with form. Each is concerned with an accepted set of rules that drive and set boundaries on behavior.
(I) represents organic form, whereas (A) represents mechanistic form. By mechanistic, I mean that (A) is externally driven: (A) establishes parameters, and you must accept these parameters as they are given to you, whether you agree with them or not. If you break the rules, or deviate from them, you understand that there will be a penalty.
(I) also sets parameters, but (I)’s parameters are internally driven. Thus, an (I) can be even more constraining than an (A). Why? Because when you are both rule-maker and rule enforcer, cheating is impossible. You cannot deviate, even in the darkness where no one can see you – because you are watching you. And you cannot escape from yourself.
Here is an example: A man says to a married woman, “Why don’t we make love?”
She says, “No, I cannot.”
He says, “Why not? Your husband will never know.”
She says, “Yes, but I will know.” That’s (I).
“Why not?” Because “I will know. Nobody else has to know. I will know that I did something I shouldn’t have done.” It’s internal, in contrast to (A), which is external: “If I break these rules, I may be caught and punished; they will stone me to death or send me to Siberia.”
If you accept a code of external rules and make it your own – in other words, if you internalize it – that is (AI). If you are a dedicated Communist – you believe in Communism and are willing to die for it – then you have internalized the external rules of Communism. That can be an overpowering combination that makes you extremely inflexible. It is not strange at all, then, that many Russians committed suicide when Stalin was denounced and exposed as a criminal. It destroyed many people’s internal belief system.
Does this similarity of function mean that (A) and (I) are actually compatible?
Not at all.
(A) undermines (I) because the organization will rely on external, legalistic mechanistic rules to control interdependencies and relationships, and thus rely less on internal and cultural values. Why does (A) replace (I) so easily? Because it is easier to legislate a rule than to develop a value. To make a new law might take a few months. To develop a new code of ethics might take a lifetime. Furthermore, some (A) rules might be in conflict with some (I) values. Thus, (A) will always tend to increase as a regulatory mechanism – which in turn will make (I) less necessary and poorly reinforced. The more (A) you have, the less (I) you will have. All those (A) mechanistic rules and policies devour any effort to remain organically interdependent.
In the beginning years of a new religion, for example, the founding group of believers don’t have a lot of (A). What they have is a commitment to God and a shared value system, which enables them to decide among themselves about what is the right thing to do. They have lots of (I).
Later on, as the religion becomes successful and expands, the group loses its tight (I)ntegration and by necessity becomes more and more rule-driven. Eventually, the tail begins to wag the dog: The (A) rules start to dominate. Instead of (I)ntegration serving as the “glue” that unites the community through consistency of beliefs, the organization emphasizes rituals and rules, (A), and the religion becomes more and more rigid. It becomes an organized religion, and its believers conform to the rules of conduct rather than the spirit of the content. (A) destroys (I).
Here is another example of (A) undermining (I): Which country has the most lawyers per capita? The United States. (A) is very high and growing; our court system is overloaded. We are constantly seeking external-to-ourselves interventions to solve our interdependency problems. (A) is penetrating deeper and deeper into our social fabric – dictating how we should raise our children, how to address our spouses, where and how we can and cannot smoke, eat, talk...
At your local bookstore, the largest and fastest-growing section is very likely the “self-help” aisle, where you can find “rules” for doing everything from finding a life partner, to planning a party, to resolving an argument or making friends. It is lots of rules for everything. (A) galore. How about (I)? It is flourishing too. Endless courses on intimacy, love, relationships, communication, self growth, self actualization. Look at many bumper stickers on American cars. “LOVE” is probably the most repeated word: “I love New York.” “ I love my dog.” “Jesus loves you” etc. Why this preoccupation with love? Because love is the ultimate integration and it is in high demand because it is threatened by change. The more change the more alienation which seems the overwhelming result of modern life. Furthermore, the bigger the city, the more lonely people feel, because the less (I) there is.
So both the need for (A) and (I) are growing because of change. But the more you rely on (A) rules to solve whatever interrelationship you have the less you will rely on your internal guide, your internal voice. (A) is easier to follow. It is mechanical. (I) is more difficult and it is natural that when confronted with choice, easy or difficult, the easy approach wins.
Now let’s look at the reverse: How does (I) undermine (A)? Actually, the word “undermine” is inaccurate in this context; rather, (I) retards the development of (A), because the more (I) you have, the less (A) you need. In a tribal community, the tribe relies on its internally developed values to make decisions and resolve conflicts. They do not need external intervention, like police or the courts, to solve problems. They have a very strong value system that tells them what’s right and what’s wrong; thus, they don’t need anybody else to tell them what to do. So the more (I) there is, the less need for (A).
I want to point out that this (I)/(A) incompatibility is unlike any of the other combinations of roles. Incompatibility can be positive or negative. When (A) pushes (I) out, the two roles are being incompatible in a destructive way. But when (I) retards the growth of (A), they are being incompatible in a positive way.
This is in opposition to all of the other pairings. As we have seen, when (E) undermines (P) or (P) undermines (E), it’s undesirable. When (P) undermines (A) or (A) undermines (P), it’s undesirable. We shall also see that when (I) undermines (P) or (P) undermines (I), it’s undesirable. And so on. But when (I) undermines (A), it’s desirable. Why that is true, I don’t know.
Now, I have found in my work that when my theories come together correctly, there is a balance to them, an elegance, as in mathematics. Any time something is off balance in my work, I know there is a fallacy in the argument. Sometimes it takes me years to find what the fallacy is and how to correct it. The above is one of them.
This (I)/(A) anomaly demonstrates a lack of elegance, which means to me that there is something missing, something not quite accurate about my theory. But it is a problem for which I do not have a solution. This is the best I can do today. I prefer to point it out to my readers rather than ignore it or gloss over it. Perhaps one of the readers will be able to help solve it. What I do know already is that for (I) a threshold of (A) is necessary of (I) can not grow. But for (A) there is no threshold of (I) necessary.
What is going on and why? Go figure it out, I do not know.
(P) Threatens (I); (I) Endangers (P)
Have you ever attended a course or workshop where you were taught how to be a better (I)ntegrator: How to relate better to people and be a good communicator and a sensitive human being? Then you returned to work, and soon there was a crisis, and time pressure, and you had to have a meeting in which you had to (P), then and there. There was no time to convince, explain, or motivate. What happened to your team orientation and ability to listen patiently?
When there is time pressure to (P)roduce results, it is normal to become rather dictatorial and assign a lower priority to (I)ntegration and the needs of some stakeholders. The (P) squeezes the (I) out.
No matter how many times you may have gone to a meeting promising yourself that this time you’ll be patient and understanding, and people-oriented, situations inevitably arise in which decisions have to be made now! And what are you thinking, as you sit fidgeting in a meeting and checking your watch for the fifteenth time? “The hell with people’s expectations to be heard fully! We have a railroad to run here!” Right?
By the same token, (I) undermines (P) by applying parameters, very much the way that (A) does.
How does applying (I) parameters undermine (P)? I’ll give you an example, again from religion: If the very religious Jews, dressed in black, don’t have much to eat and there is no work and no food, and you ask them, “What are you going to do?” What do they say? “God will help.” “God will provide.” Period. They have total confidence. This is true of very religious Muslims and Christians too.
Now, if you are not religious, you will not sit around waiting for God to provide, are you? You’re going to go and find work or food or both. You’re going to (P).
So people with a large amount of faith, or (I), will stay within the parameters of their value system, which interferes with their ability to (P). Even if it is a matter of life and death, they will not violate any rules. What if the exigencies of a situation require them to break a rule? Still, they will not do it. Why? Because it violates their internalized rules.
The Struggle Between (E) and (I)
Why are (E) and (I) in conflict? Because (E) wants to change, to create, to make a difference; whereas (I) wants harmony, agreement, (I)ntegration. What (I) tries to put together or keep together, (E) wants to take apart.
When Martin Luther tried to reform the Catholic church in the 16th century, the church reacted by undermining him at every step. The church hierarchy saw Luther’s innovations as a threat to Catholicism.
Here’s another, rather complicated example of how (I) undermines (E): Which country once had the fewest lawyers per capita? Japan. In Japan, until just a few years ago, there was a great deal of loyalty and interdependence in business because their (I) was high. Corporations offered lifetime employment and a family environment. They took care of each other; they were guided more by their culture than by their legal institutions. Their need for (A) – strict rules and policies – was low.
However, in recent years Japan has changed: Its (A) has grown and its (I) has declined.
Why has this happened? Because the four roles were never in balance in Japan, and that created an unstable situation.
The Japanese have not, historically, been individualistic innovators. The Japanese education system has always been weak in (E). They teach to know and to remember not to disagree and stand out as an individual. Their (E)ntrepreneuring stems from group interactions – essentially getting to (E) through (I).
Why is their (E) low? Because their (I) is so enormous, and (I) threatens (E). When I work in any other country in the world, when the group agrees on a subject, we clap our hands and shout, “Yes!” When I work in Japan, I reverse my rules: When somebody in the room says, “I have a different opinion,” that’s when we clap hands and shout, “Yes!” Why? Because the Japanese rarely disagree with each other. They are always watching to see where the consensus is, and that’s where they want to go.
Remember my analogy in the preface, of the four roles as vitamins? In order to get benefit from taking lots of vitamin (A), you also have to take lots of vitamin (E). If there is no more (E), the benefit stops. A shortage of one will limit the effectiveness of the others even if the others are in excess. And that is because roles like vitamins are interdependent. If one component is missing from your diet, the other components can not make you healthier unless you get more of the missing component.
When did Japan lose its competitive advantage? When the rate of change, worldwide, began to accelerate, and decision-making needed to be faster. With too much (I) and too little (E), Japan could not adapt and speed up. At the same time as interdependencies increased (governments with corporations; banks with governments, etc.), their (A) increased. In Japan, because (I) is high, (E) is low and (A) increased, (P) eventually had to decline.
When Japan hit the skids, what did they do? In order to increase (P)roduction, the Japanese had to sacrifice a lot of their (I) and replace it with more (A). Why? When (P)roduction declines, or the economy is in trouble, management often chooses to reduce (I)ntegration methods of managing interdependencies in favor of more systematization, or (A). The manifestation of that is that Japanese businesses no longer make a lifetime commitment to people; the family atmosphere is gone; people can actually be fired. What is left is an enormous (A) bureaucracy that is further eroding Japanese (P) and (I) and will not allow (E) to grow.
As a result, Japan is in a very difficult decline, for which there is no short-term solution. Without any homegrown (E), they are being forced to bring in corporate officers from abroad in order to grow. (For example, the head of Nissan is from Brazil, and he is hailed as a hero. The Japanese auto industry sees this experiment as a model to follow.)
What does Japan need? It needs to change its educational system in order to support and increase its (E); in other words, it should start teaching people how to learn rather than how to know. It must begin to prize deviant thinking, out-of-the-box thinking, and reward individualism instead of rewarding (A). And the country must learn to do this without losing its own cultural competitive advantage – (I).
If that is impossible, then the Japanese need to open their gates and stimulate immigration by other nationalities with a lot of (E) – the Greeks, the Jews, or the Indians – which Japan, a particularly closed society, finds undesirable.
The Conflict Between (E) and (A)
Finally, how are (E)ntrepreneurship and (A)dministration incompatible? This one is easy to see. (E)s are radical, whereas (A)s are conservative. (A)s want control in order to maximize efficiency, and they try to get it by minimizing deviations, whereas (E)s live to create deviations – by introducing change, which is in fact necessary for long-term effectiveness. Thus, (E) threatens (A) because too much change hinders systematization, routine, and order.
And of course the opposite is also true: (A) endangers (E). As you freeze new ideas for the sake of efficiency, your ability to be proactive and effective in the long run will become limited. Policies, rules, and institutionalized behavior inhibit change.
Let’s take the example of Communist Russia. (A) was so dominant that anybody who was an (E)ntrepreneur was called a spekulant, or speculator, which definitely had a negative connotation: It meant somebody who would undermine the centrally planned economy of Russia. Hardly anybody dared to be an (E)ntrepreneur in Communist Russia, which carried the danger of being sent to prison. My own father, who owned a mom-and-pop store, was thrown in jail in Yugoslavia for not following the Communist ideology of public ownership of property. By trying to innovate outside of the rules, he became an “enemy of the people.”
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