Uniqueness

Whether mankind is really that different from other creatures on the planet is a debate as common as a late night conversation.  Apparently the DNA of humans and dung beetles are 90% similar.  There seem to be ways for apes, whales, and Golden Retrievers to communicate.  And with the benefit of retrospect, one can trace a family tree from the earliest hominids to modern man on a poster in a sixth grade science fair.

But the common arguments focus on our construction, bill of materials, and certain skills... the hardware, if you can bear the metaphor.  But the software -- essentially what happens on that hardware -- seems to have some unique characteristics in humans.  Specifically, it appears that to be human means you are creative, and you make promises.  And as I hope to explain below, if only humans can make promises, only humans can make commitments to the actions required to secure the well-being of another... in more common terms, only human beings can love.  And finally, if humans are uniquely creative, then only humans can discern a sense of purpose.  It is this combination of creativity, promise, love, and purpose that then are the fuel for our sense of what ought to be.  I believe it is why one ponders can reasonably ponder whether humans are the only truly moral creatures.

I must say that I'm not the first to have thought these things.  Apparently Frederich Nietzsche, in his work on the Genealogy of Morals, stumbled into the same question of making promises.  He argued that to survive, humans need to be able to forget, but that unlike cattle, they do remember and make commitments.  I liked the way Sunny Auyang's explained this in her book, Mind in Everyday Life and Cognitive Science:  

Nietzsche (1874) observed that it is possible to live and live happily without memory, like grazing cattle blissfully oblivious of the past or future, but to live without forgetfulness is as impossible as to live without sleep.  The strength of forgetfulness makes more remarkable the genealogy of morals, which culminates in the autonomous and responsible individual with the right to make promises.  Only animals with logos can promise.  A promise is a choice made in the present.  It implies not merely the the passive inability to forget an utterance, but the active memory that must hold through all the vicissitudes between the initial "I will" and its final discharge   Our full-blown mental capacity manifests itself in the will to remember, the confidence to promise, and the assurance to foresee one's own ability to stick to his freely given words.  As Nietzsche (1887:II.1) wrote: "To breed an animal with the right to make promise -- is not this the paradoxical task that nature has set itself in the case of man?  Is it not the real problem regarding man?"

To paraphrase Timothy Keller, in his book,  The Meaning of Marriage, consider this:  To stand at the altar and make the wedding vows is not simply to say, "I love you today and I'm willing to say that in front of my mother-in-law and a few hundred others."  Rather it is to intentionally promise to love regardless of circumstances.  It is something I will do in the future.  It is a promise that includes the calculus of intent (I will) and capability (I can) and desire (I want to).  But interestingly, at least in traditional marriage, I will and I can have a future tense orientation, and I want to is in a present tense.  It is to say, I want to now, and I will in the future regardless of whether I want to then.  That is the nature of a promise and it appears that only humans can do this.

Stuart Briscoe, has often repeated this definition of love.  "To love is to be preoccupied with the well-being of another regardless of their position or response."  This definition eliminates a sentimental love that is blind to reality because it is aware of the other's position and response.  Though it is not in the definition itself, the implication is that we make promises, perhaps implicitly, to act in a way that benefits another.  Note that it is not reciprocal... I will regardless of whether you.  What makes it compelling is its unconditional nature and how starkly it stands in contrast with a simple conditioned response that will behave lovingly when it is suitable.  Love intends.  Furthermore, it intends to be durable.

From the concept of promise, let's move to creativity:

Andy Crouch's book, Culture Making: Recovering our Creative Calling, makes roughly this argument:  If you look at the apes, they've been eating bananas for millenia in the same way:  peel of the skin, swallow the insides.  But mankind has developed thousands of alternative banana-eating approaches from Bananas Foster to peanut butter and banana sandwiches.  (My analogy, not Crouch's.) Crouch suggests this, if in the beginning God created, and if God created mankind in his own image (Gen 1:26), then mankind was created to be creative.  (By the way, this is not the main point of Crouch's book.  His main point is really that we can have either a posture of creativity in a way that is consistent with our creation, or we can have a posture of critique in a way that is consistent with our cultures, and he urges us to the former.)

Leslie Newbigin, former Bishop of the Church of South India (and contemporary of CS Lewis) in his book, Foolishness to the Greeks: Gospel and Western Culture, argues that modern constructions of how things work miss the point of why they work.  He uses the analogy of a speaker at a podium.  With all of the mechanics and software of modern technology, one could build a machine that could reproduce the motions of the tongue, lips, lungs and vocal chords and nearly reproduce the actions of the speaker.  But the purpose of the speech would still be a mystery.  To understand the actions of mankind requires that one understand his purposes.  Viktor Frankl, in his writing, Man's Search for Meaning, recounts his time caring for others as a Nazi prisoner. He observed that man can endure hardships of every kind -- deprivation of food, sleep, rest, relationship -- but once a person loses purpose or hope, they will die within 48 hours.  The awareness of purpose, and its cousin hope is an essential element of what it means to be human.

Of course, for Christians, of which I am one, the catalog of the last half dozen paragraphs, resonates like a kind of modern echo of the texts of the Old and New Testaments.  God is portrayed as a covenant maker (promise), creator (creativity), agape-er (love), and the ultimate source of purpose.  It is not my intent to write an argument for the veracity of the scriptures; others have done a more complete job here than I will. Rather, I argue that these scriptural descriptions of God -- promise, other-focused love, creativity, and purpose -- are the building blocks of the uniqueness of humankind.  One can observe them objectively, describe them metaphorically, experience them personally, and connect them historically and theologically.  But it is impossible to reproduce them outside of mankind.

In fact, the argument that mankind is more than just an incremental evolutionary step away from other creatures may be the best we can do when our tools are those of a biologist.  But the demonstrated nature of humans is dramatically distinct in its foundation.  To explore the distinction can be an adventure.  To ignore it is willful deception.

Leadership Lessons from the Laboratory of Life

Recent months have put me in some of the most difficult and most rewarding leadership laboratories.  Here are some of the lessons I'm learning:

You cannot reason a person out of a decision they did not reason themselves into
I already knew that in the absence of full information, people will fill the gap with the worst possible scenario. What I have been surprised to learn is that even with all available the facts, some people will have their own narrative about motivation or causality or conspiracy.  Re-presenting the facts doesn't seem to help these folks to share my point of view.  I have to learn to get to the source of their narrative whether or not it aligns with facts on the ground.  Logic will not replace anger, injury, or shame, even when they may not be sensible. Anger requires reconciliation; injury requires pardon, shame requires release.  None require another litany of the truth until the mind and heart are tuned to the ideas more than the injury.

Leaders of integrity have to watch their reflexes
I work hard to be a man of integrity.  Really hard.  So when my integrity is called into question, I will defend it.  Generally, my reflex is to disclose what I know in order that others will see how reasonable I have been and how careful and transparent I am willing to be.  But in one moment recently, I came to see how my transparency could unnecessarily destroy another (Rom 14, would be a good scriptural touchstone here.)  I realized that some observers equate integrity with transparency.  I had to learn that I do not worship at the altar of my integrity.  I am careful to nurture integrity, but it is secondary to other things.  So I chose at times to be silent, when speaking would reveal my logic, skill, and transparency.  It cost me the respect of some who I want to respect me.  But that silence protected people and institutions I care about.

Necessary pain, unnecessary pain, and wasted pain
My colleagues and I have spoken a lot about the necessary pain that comes with change and transition.  We have talked about the times when the approach to change caused pain that was not necessary, and for that we need to find a place to repent and improve our skill.  But I was struck by the words of a colleague who encouraged us not to waste any pain.  The concept of wasted pain... that which teaches us nothing except for the intensity of injury... strikes me as one of the most important.  I want to learn as I lead and I will use that pain to improve.

Lead when you're tired
There are times when leadership just has to happen.  At times it's not when it's convenient.  So sometimes one has to lead in the midst of exhaustion, or inconvenience.  But we should never seek to lead out of exhaustion, and we should seek reasonable alternatives to delay or re-balance.  My urgency to find clarity or reconciliation or a solution sometimes led me to act faster than I needed to.  I could have waited until I was more clear-headed.

Leadership is a technical skill
If someone fixes your computer network issue, you're grateful.  If they properly adjust the sound system so that you can hear the speaker well, we commend the sound tech.  If the brochure is engaging and beautiful, we recommend the graphic designer.  But outside of big corporations, if the leader brings his expertise, many suspect manipulation or complain about becoming overly corporate or over managed.  Why is it that we presume good intent for the pianist, the podiatrist, party planner, and photographer, but we proceed with caution when we meet a skilled executive leader practicing her craft?

You are not your title
People may be mad at me for what I do.  That is different from being mad at me for who I am.  I have learned the difference.  Those who are mad may not see the difference.  It does not always matter that they do.

Organizations take on the personalities of their leaders.
Enough said.   We must manage our tone if we want to manage our teams.

About every 5 years, I realize I'm an idiot.
Someone shared with me the idea that About every five years I realize that 5 years ago I was an idiot.  There are so many things I might have done differently in the last 3 years.  Given the skill I had and the information I had I did the best I had.  I now have new skill and new information and I can do better.  Rather than mourning my idiocy, I learn to celebrate my maturing.  I still have to go back and apologize, of course. But at least I can apologize out of an informed mind and a wiser heart.

Sometimes apology isn't enough.
Yeah, sometimes saying "I'm sorry" is not enough for the injured.  But for some, repentance is not enough either...  Reciprocal injury is what they want.  That may be just, but it is not right.

Don't let the rice burn while your recording your thoughts.  
There's nothing to be learned from burning the rice.

Open Leadership

My tweet this afternoon was this:

If you practice an open #leadership style, eventually you will have a severe case of advice fatigue.  Keep listening.  Advice is not a threat.

Leadership is a throw away word, I suppose. Some leaders are commanding, others collaborating; some are facilitators, others are directors.  None are neutral.  Even an inert leader sets a tone that permeates.  So choose, I say, what kind of leader you will be in each of the settings in which you lead.

My default style is openly direct.  Listen, decide, communicate, and remain open to hear more.  It is neither paralyzed by endless debate, nor so bluntly confident that it is not open to critique.  But the listening is exhausting.  I think that those who practice this form of leadership will eventually collapse of advice exhaustion.  

This happened to me this weekend.  I was surrounded by great people who were fully competent and deeply well-meaning.  Listening to each of their perspectives was profitable.  But by the end of the weekend I craved the freedom to have my own opinion and choose my own course.

To be honest, listening well can be exhausting.  But I need to be careful to avoid the instinct that contrary advice is threatening or poorly motivated.  On the occasion when I sense that a line of questioning or advice has unwelcome intent, I have to revert to my knowledge of the person sharing. These are good people who want us to be correct and have a sense that we may have missed something important.  I remember a couple that I used to know who were bickering all the time and constantly correcting each other.  At one point I realized that Lana didn’t want to prove that Bob was wrong, she wanted Bob to be right!  It is with that spirit that I think we need to be listening well.

To take this concept of open leadership a step forward, I really need to distinguish between openness and full disclosure of everything I'm thinking and considering.  Some suggest complete openness about all things because the integrity is at stake.   But this assumes that information equals understanding.  If you need to be instructed about the danger in that statement, you haven’t been on the planet long enough.  ;-)

The risk of dismissing contrarians: When faced with contrary advisers, it is easy to dismiss them because we can find fault with their argument, or because we’re just too plain tired to process the information… again.  But I have found that there is value in continuing to listen.  It would be easier to continue down the course we have charted without bringing up the debate for consideration again.  We can be tempted to reason that the alternate perspective has been considered and we are just burning neurons to continue to rehash it. But that is a temptation I think we should resist.  By allowing our own counsel to be pressure tested that we can grow in confidence that our course is properly set, and be open to redirection if we have it wrongly set.  The pressure of alternate views will strengthen our confidence, knowing that we have been tested.

The risk of staying open too long.  There is some risk that remaining open to this pressure will erode our confidence.  If we become men and women whose conclusions are subject to the emotional pressure of the last person we talked to, we build our house on the sand.  (You can complete the analogy for yourself.)  But this weakened state of reasoning only comes when we perceive the critique of our conclusions as a threat.  Leaders are chosen in part for wisdom. Wisdom implies “God Sense” (to paraphrase Jill Briscoe).  Aristotle put it this way:  Wisdom is the combination of moral will with moral skill.  Jesus said, “wisdom is proved right by [wisdom’s] children.”  Wisdom is judged by its results.  As you ponder these things for yourself, I encourage you to have that combination:  God-centering, moral will, moral skill, focus on acting rightly.  This can be the energy that refocuses us when we slip into the question of our own confidence.

Proverbs 15 puts all of this much more succinctly,  “Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed.”  I suppose you could just read Proverbs, and save yourselves a lot of time!

The Empty Satisfaction of an Answer

An answer is seductive.  When we're faced with a problem an answer is less painful than the problem, so we think.  But I've been struck by the curiosity anemia that substitutes the first answer for a better answer.  I think we get seduced by the comfort of the false security we feel when at least there is an explanation.

Consider this:

• When the question is political, our reflex is to align with our political party. I'm a fiscal conservative... but should I be a debt hawk because most republicans are?

• In the absence of full information, I fill the gap with the worst possible scenario... whether I'm worried about a child who is late to come home, or a co-worker who got promoted ahead of me.

I have remembered many times the disappointment I had when I learned to multiply fractions.  My world model was that multiplication always led to a bigger number.  Then someone taught me to multiply fractions and my incomplete view of multiplication was shredded.  My initial truths were helpful, but limited.

We laugh, but we often live with our initial truths for decades.  Many of my fellow evangelicals often live the truths taught to them shortly after their conversion.  That information was very helpful for sorting out major life questions in the beginning.  But 20 years later, the depth of their insight is often no greater than on day 2 of their Christian walk.  Is there no room for growing maturity and the subtlety of insight that comes with living a few years and studying the scriptures?  By analogy, if we were still walking as we did as toddlers, we could not dance.  Why are we still intellectually or spiritually toddlers instead of dancers?  I think it is because we too quickly become satisfied with our first understanding.

I have a friend who says, "Of course my opinion is right. If it were wrong, I would change it." But how would he know?

For years, I have been with students who just want the answer; forgetting the principles to be taught by the homework itself.  I have been with bosses who just want to know the results, even if the measurement system is uncertain.  I have been with grieving friends who want simple answers, and pretend to be satisfied with platitudes. I read emails from high school friends who still see beer in a basement as the highest form of fun... and that was our estimate in 1979 too.

We demand an answer from politicians, employers, spouses, and school administrators.  How often have I personally quoted a source I can't remember from a context that was irrelevant to an audience who just wanted someone to agree? We place higher value on a fast plausible answer than on an effective mature response.  We have lost the curiosity that would truly satisfy.  We've accepted Band Aid answers that cover up cancer problems.

Of course, we cannot be analysts for every decision.  Sometimes we just choose and move on.  But that is usually for things of little consequence.  My complaint is when we just choose and move on for the big stuff.

Here is the cure, I think:

• Cultivate curiosity.  We need to be people who want to know more fully. We need to encourage those who are willing to ask for the reasons behind the simple answers.  When people have explored the alternatives and returned unsatisfied with other options; when they know why the answer is correct, then the solution is gold plated.
• Cultivate wisdom. Some things have to be decided quickly -- We don't want our metaphorical Emergency Room docs to ponder the nature of blood before sewing a stitch.  But we need to be prepared for better than Band Aid answers by discovery and experience before the high stakes stuff stares us in the face.  We need to hang out with wise people, and build wide networks that will teach us more than we know.
• Cultivate courage.  I don't mean bravado; I mean the humility to test our convictions. I met a young man recently who was convinced that he should become a pastor.  I asked him if he was convinced enough that he would be willing to explore other options.  The inference was that if he should  be a pastor, then there was no risk to exploring other options to confirm his call.  He was less than enthusiastic.  But wouldn't his conviction be stronger if he had explored the possibility that he was initially wrong and then convinced himself that he was in fact right?  Courage in this sense is the cousin of humility, openness, and teach-ability.  It takes courage to consider that there may be a better answer than the one we have committed ourselves to follow.

I am convinced that curiosity, wisdom, and courage are the new currency of affluence.  I suppose that you could consider this a kind of three part posture. The consequence of living in a way that practices curiosity, builds wisdom, and lives with humble courage is that empty satisfaction of the first answers will eventually be replaced by fuller and more complete understanding.

As parents, as leaders, as influencers, we can set the tone and the pace that encourages these traits. Perhaps we need to be more thoughtful about the experiences and training and protection we offer your children and our protégés.  Are we cultivating a hunger that is not satisfied by the fast food of the first answer?  Or are we sending our kids after the french fries of simple and incomplete conclusions?