Alongside the other 40,000 people spending time in the Christmas markets in Cologne, I was on the hunt for Christmas tree baubles. Looking at the pretty wooden painted figures, it struck me that we return, time and time again to a Christmas which isn't now. Victorian, the fifties, Edwardian, - anything in fact, which isn't now. Even those who couldn't have been around in the fifties are yearning towards a dream of Christmas which might never have existed anyway.
We base our dreams on Hollywood, Bing and White Christmas, impossibly glamorous women in gowns, elegant men in tuxedos and wonder why we always feel slightly cheated when the reality arrives. We seek the tinsel and glitter or the rich red and dull gold of the baubles which adorn the tree, hoping they will weave some sort of magic around our deeply domestic lives. This magic might include making tetchy six year olds and ancient relatives disappear, being slender enough not to care about overeating or snoring after lunch, and having partners who look like Bryan Ferry or Lauren Bacall.
It may also mean having enough rooms for quiet and peaceful reading, enough talent for songs and music and a grand piano, bright sunshine and clean snow for exercise and fun.
Instead, we are crammed together at the table, sitting two deep in front of the tv with the central heating too high, making everyone fractious and irritable. The kids forget their manners, parents and in-laws bicker over ownership of the kitchen, and the Big Day descends into a marathon of bitten lips and iron politeness. We're so enamoured of a celluloid version of Christmas that the reality of miserable, ill-considered presents, screaming, over-tired children and over-rich cooking is simply unpalatable.
We've been brainwashed by Nigela, Delia, and Heston that it's possible to look glorious, have the perfect table decorations, cook like an angel and talk sensibly to visitors at the same time without breaking sweat. Most of the time we fail miserably and then never fail to compare our best imagined selves with the people we'd like to be, like those people in the films.
All of which leaves us perfectly miserable.
This is not the way it should be. Forget Grace Kelly and Danny Kaye, even Harry and Sally. Embrace Aunty Elsie, cousin Michael and the in laws and love that they are deeply, irrevocably uncool. Forgive them unaired clothes, bad aftershave, or lily of the valley perfume from 1972. Bypass dreadful haircuts, unsuitable clothing, indecent necklines and plain bad taste.
Bear in mind this is just one day. One day in 365 others. People will not turn into pillars of salt if the roast potatoes are burnt, the stuffing soggy or the trifle sloppy. They won't be talking for months if the tree isn't just so, the crackers filled with knick-nacks from Liberty, or if the festive garland is rather drunkenly uneven. They won't be mentally scarred if they've read the book you bought them already, or downloaded months ago the album you queued in the rain for. Or if the colour of the sweater isn't right.
If we were a bit more relaxed around Christmas, then we might be a bit kinder to others. Which might mean a bit more of the magic we had been looking for in the baubles. But for real.
Wishing you a stress-free Christmas and a gentle New Year.
Monday 20 December 2010
Sunday 5 September 2010
a prize runner bean
During one golden autumn afternoon, I went to a friend's allotment to see her and give some support to the allotment association's open day. At this small, local event, there were prizes for (amongst other marvels) the longest bean, biggest marrow, best dahlia, not to mention a raft of awards for scones, jam, chutney and Victoria sponge cake.
My friend managed two second prizes, one for her scones and one for jam and was thrilled. Her prize - two pieces of card with "Second" on them, and the life changing sum of 76 pence in prize money.
It struck me that although the monetary prize wouldn't pay for a ride on a London bus, the amount of effort put in to competing had been significant - my friend had baked twenty scones before selecting five of the best to put into the competition. And her delight at coming second was palpable - together with a will to enter next year and to up her baking and jam making game.
And as I chomped my way through the equally delicious but unchosen scones, clotted cream and home made jam, I thought how wonderful if such effort could be put into the workplace by employees.
Not that employees' prizes should be this size, you understand; high falutin' management consultants might have you believe that employees will work for very little for the right encouragement. The (cynical) view of engagement is about getting employees to do more, for less, a form of managerial power which doesn't actually need the manager present. For me, however, without fair pay, you don't have a start point.
So what DOES motivate individuals to do so much for so little? To spend hours baking, months growing, years cultivating?
I believe the keys are to do with making your own decisions about how you achieve something, having a clear idea of what success looks like (a perfect scone with a first prize label?) and being able to see how what you do, links to the final outcome.
None of this is new, of course. Hackman and Oldham's Job Characteristics Model developed in the late 1970s indicates that job satisfaction comes from precisely these elements. So why in work do we constantly forget it?
In the workplace, we divorce people from the final outcomes of their jobs, box them into processes so they only see a part of the whole, we tell them how to do things and put silos into organisations so that people fight for their little piece of "job land" rather than working together.
On the allotment, there were tales of produce shared, advice given and taken, seeds and plants donated. The common goal of growing fruit, vegetables and flowers seemed to encourage sharing so that people could all experience success. Not everyone chose to enter into the prize giving and were simply happy to contribute to others' triumph.
I recognise that the workplace is a far cry from a North London allotment. But growing that kind of commitment, that sort of knowledge sharing, cultivating that strain of passion - now that would be worth a prize.
My friend managed two second prizes, one for her scones and one for jam and was thrilled. Her prize - two pieces of card with "Second" on them, and the life changing sum of 76 pence in prize money.
It struck me that although the monetary prize wouldn't pay for a ride on a London bus, the amount of effort put in to competing had been significant - my friend had baked twenty scones before selecting five of the best to put into the competition. And her delight at coming second was palpable - together with a will to enter next year and to up her baking and jam making game.
And as I chomped my way through the equally delicious but unchosen scones, clotted cream and home made jam, I thought how wonderful if such effort could be put into the workplace by employees.
Not that employees' prizes should be this size, you understand; high falutin' management consultants might have you believe that employees will work for very little for the right encouragement. The (cynical) view of engagement is about getting employees to do more, for less, a form of managerial power which doesn't actually need the manager present. For me, however, without fair pay, you don't have a start point.
So what DOES motivate individuals to do so much for so little? To spend hours baking, months growing, years cultivating?
I believe the keys are to do with making your own decisions about how you achieve something, having a clear idea of what success looks like (a perfect scone with a first prize label?) and being able to see how what you do, links to the final outcome.
None of this is new, of course. Hackman and Oldham's Job Characteristics Model developed in the late 1970s indicates that job satisfaction comes from precisely these elements. So why in work do we constantly forget it?
In the workplace, we divorce people from the final outcomes of their jobs, box them into processes so they only see a part of the whole, we tell them how to do things and put silos into organisations so that people fight for their little piece of "job land" rather than working together.
On the allotment, there were tales of produce shared, advice given and taken, seeds and plants donated. The common goal of growing fruit, vegetables and flowers seemed to encourage sharing so that people could all experience success. Not everyone chose to enter into the prize giving and were simply happy to contribute to others' triumph.
I recognise that the workplace is a far cry from a North London allotment. But growing that kind of commitment, that sort of knowledge sharing, cultivating that strain of passion - now that would be worth a prize.
Thursday 12 August 2010
oh, get a sense of humour...
"I could be in touch with my 'gay' side. I mean, I don't, and never have, owned a leather cap, but I did once have a moustache (and the fact that I can claim I only grew it for a bet, doesn't exactly help)."
This was a post from a friend of mine on Facebook, who thought he might be "going gay" because he had Dancing Queen by Abba in his head. In the ensuing posts, I asked if we could be a bit less stereotypical and was told by another Facebook post to "take a joke... its thursday...".
Now, I've never been particularly politically correct, but being told to amend my perfectly good sense of humour by someone who's clearly in the majority (white, heterosexual and middle class) irked me somewhat.
It's all too easy to explain away racist, homophobic and sexist views as attempts at humour; this makes anyone who objects into a "poor sport" or someone who can't have a laugh. Instead of being someone who may have a legitimate gripe with certain views or how they're expressed, people are categorised suddenly into prudes, swots or the type of individuals who hang round the beer at parties and wear crimpelene.
In this instance, being accused of suffering from a sense of humour failure actually MADE me have one. I wonder how many other people believe that it's everyone else that fails to see the funny side when it's their own prejudices which should be the butt of the joke?
This was a post from a friend of mine on Facebook, who thought he might be "going gay" because he had Dancing Queen by Abba in his head. In the ensuing posts, I asked if we could be a bit less stereotypical and was told by another Facebook post to "take a joke... its thursday...".
Now, I've never been particularly politically correct, but being told to amend my perfectly good sense of humour by someone who's clearly in the majority (white, heterosexual and middle class) irked me somewhat.
It's all too easy to explain away racist, homophobic and sexist views as attempts at humour; this makes anyone who objects into a "poor sport" or someone who can't have a laugh. Instead of being someone who may have a legitimate gripe with certain views or how they're expressed, people are categorised suddenly into prudes, swots or the type of individuals who hang round the beer at parties and wear crimpelene.
In this instance, being accused of suffering from a sense of humour failure actually MADE me have one. I wonder how many other people believe that it's everyone else that fails to see the funny side when it's their own prejudices which should be the butt of the joke?
Wednesday 21 July 2010
London Standard with double standards
"Money pours into our £1m fund". So shouts the headline on the London Evening Standard, with a photo of a cleaner at the Treasury who works 40 hours a week and gets up at 4am to live off lentil soup with her three children.
There's no doubt there is criminal unfairness in London - where the rich spend thousands on champagne at parties and the poor serve them but can't even keep their tips as their employer "counts" them towards the minimum wage they are legally entitled to.
Even the Mayor is weighing in, commenting that he's really grateful to the Evening Standard for "again highlighting the poverty and deprivation that shame this city".
The Standard doesn't stop however, at highlighting that people earn peanuts and live in overcrowded and dismal accommodation, struggle to afford the basics and can do little to pull themselves out of the poverty trap. The Standard also helpfully points out the gap between rich and poor by covering, in a fabulous pull-out supplement, convenient second homes for Londoners - or at least those rich enough to afford them. The newspaper gleefully points out how "The priority for a growing band of busy Londoners searching for a second home is to stay within two hours of the city."
How nice to see that the Treasury cleaner, whose journey according to London Transport, will take less that half of that - 49 minutes from Houndslow Bus Station to Westminster, leaving at 4.04am.
While I believe that people should be free to spend their money as they choose, the ability to earn that money is far from universal. Education, language skills and nationality all play a part. It is laudable and cheering that so many ordinary people (as well as the celebs) - interviewed by the Standard - think it's a great idea and want to help, even though many of them are probably not exactly swimming in riches themselves.
But I wonder.....Is it an ironic comment that the Standard should contrast the lifestyle of those who work at the underbelly of society, cleaning its toilets, serving its food and wine, sweeping its streets with those who don't just have, but have a lot?
Or is it simply a bandwagon? After all, we’re between Comic Relief and the BBC’s Children in Need and with all the cuts, the Government could do with the Evening Standard’s support in making everyone feel as though they’re doing something to offset the cuts in spending. A million pounds to match the paper’s fundraising sounds very nice, but is a far, far cry from the £13bn that comes to charities from state sources nationally.
So while any help is laudable, it could look – and indeed, it does to me – that this is adding insult to injury not only to the charities closing down in their dozens, but also to the people that this “Dispossessed” fund is supposed to help. Or are they dispossessed of their right to dignity too?
There's no doubt there is criminal unfairness in London - where the rich spend thousands on champagne at parties and the poor serve them but can't even keep their tips as their employer "counts" them towards the minimum wage they are legally entitled to.
Even the Mayor is weighing in, commenting that he's really grateful to the Evening Standard for "again highlighting the poverty and deprivation that shame this city".
The Standard doesn't stop however, at highlighting that people earn peanuts and live in overcrowded and dismal accommodation, struggle to afford the basics and can do little to pull themselves out of the poverty trap. The Standard also helpfully points out the gap between rich and poor by covering, in a fabulous pull-out supplement, convenient second homes for Londoners - or at least those rich enough to afford them. The newspaper gleefully points out how "The priority for a growing band of busy Londoners searching for a second home is to stay within two hours of the city."
How nice to see that the Treasury cleaner, whose journey according to London Transport, will take less that half of that - 49 minutes from Houndslow Bus Station to Westminster, leaving at 4.04am.
While I believe that people should be free to spend their money as they choose, the ability to earn that money is far from universal. Education, language skills and nationality all play a part. It is laudable and cheering that so many ordinary people (as well as the celebs) - interviewed by the Standard - think it's a great idea and want to help, even though many of them are probably not exactly swimming in riches themselves.
But I wonder.....Is it an ironic comment that the Standard should contrast the lifestyle of those who work at the underbelly of society, cleaning its toilets, serving its food and wine, sweeping its streets with those who don't just have, but have a lot?
Or is it simply a bandwagon? After all, we’re between Comic Relief and the BBC’s Children in Need and with all the cuts, the Government could do with the Evening Standard’s support in making everyone feel as though they’re doing something to offset the cuts in spending. A million pounds to match the paper’s fundraising sounds very nice, but is a far, far cry from the £13bn that comes to charities from state sources nationally.
So while any help is laudable, it could look – and indeed, it does to me – that this is adding insult to injury not only to the charities closing down in their dozens, but also to the people that this “Dispossessed” fund is supposed to help. Or are they dispossessed of their right to dignity too?
Tuesday 6 July 2010
Testing positive? Thoughts about positive psychology
I recently saw magician Derren Brown on TV talking about mediums. In the light of what – at best – could be called circumstantial evidence that mediums did indeed talk to the dead, he mused that perhaps scientific proof was less important to the bereaved than the comfort which they took from the idea that their loved ones were in contact.
He made the point that people who consult a medium are looking to believe and will search for information which supports their need.
This reminded me of a mindstretch® I’d delivered on positive psychology. I thought I’d made a fairly convincing case that there was considerable doubt – and certainly not enough replicable research results – that positive psychology would deliver on its promises.
In the session, I noted the key criticisms that research in positive psychology was often based on cross sectional questionnaires and not longitudinal, and therefore it is impossible to claim any cause and effect.
Samples in positive psychology research (along with psychology research as a whole) are often small, increasing the statistical effect size of any findings. This encourages claims that sound more impressive than they really are. Audiences for these questionnaires are often white, middle class and college educated, which throws doubts on how far the findings can be generalised across audiences.
Emotions in positive psychology research are seen as either black (bad) or white (good) with no view that, for example, anger may be destructive but can create feelings of power and energy, even release. Alongside this simplistic view of emotion are simplistic measurements – and if emotion is measured poorly, say critics, we are left with little real understanding of emotions and aggregated results which have little meaning.
Other critics feel that the whole thrust of positive psychology movement is unabashedly American, and has a very Western concept of “self”. This is not consistent with a movement which claims it is global – the concept of self differs considerably in Eastern and Asian cultures.
I outlined the lack of reflection and self-critique of the movement which has resolutely resisted the calls of other academics to acknowledge these criticisms or even to defend its position. Finally, I spoke of the disturbing sale of positive psychology courses to cancer sufferers as a method of self-cure. This last has no empirical evidence base to support it at all and claims that it does have outraged physicians and oncologists.
All in all, I thought, a good list of reasons to view the claims of the movement with caution.
However, a little like those who sought messages from their deceased loved ones, my audience was still intrigued by positive psychology, even while they acknowledged the weight of the evidence.
To the extent that should a consultant come knocking, they would still buy? I asked. There were nods around the table from the same heads which had been shaken at poor research methodology and inadequate sample sizes.
Which got me thinking – are some ideas so intuitively appealing that regardless of the efficacy, we would buy them?
concentrate on the strengths of human beings, rather than their weaknesses? To bury the stick, and not even need so many carrots?
And I found myself remembering that the purchase of any type of consultancy or the advocacy of an idea doesn’t take place in a vacuum; it says something about a leader, about a leadership team, about an individual.
I’ve always known this, of course. In a small consultancy you never forget the mantra of “no-one ever got fired for hiring IBM”. But somehow, as I research more and more into “new” ideas which look more and more like some pretty old ones, I think I was of the view that the rational arguments (does it work? Where’s the proof?) still hold some sway.
But the message of positive psychology is so optimistic, so human, so humane that it seems to bypass the normal rational processes that we imagine drive managerial decision making.
Or it may serve as an illustration that managerial decision making is like all decision making – not rational or calculated and based on careful consideration of the evidence, but influenced by emotion, prejudices, personal history and an awareness of self image. It is the idea, not proof or evidence, which ultimately encourages management to buy.
One final – and more positive - thought might be that it’s heartening to recognise that managers can still hope that there is an alternative management style which embraces rather than confronts the workforce – and that they’re willing to cross their fingers and jump to reach it.
He made the point that people who consult a medium are looking to believe and will search for information which supports their need.
This reminded me of a mindstretch® I’d delivered on positive psychology. I thought I’d made a fairly convincing case that there was considerable doubt – and certainly not enough replicable research results – that positive psychology would deliver on its promises.
In the session, I noted the key criticisms that research in positive psychology was often based on cross sectional questionnaires and not longitudinal, and therefore it is impossible to claim any cause and effect.
Samples in positive psychology research (along with psychology research as a whole) are often small, increasing the statistical effect size of any findings. This encourages claims that sound more impressive than they really are. Audiences for these questionnaires are often white, middle class and college educated, which throws doubts on how far the findings can be generalised across audiences.
Emotions in positive psychology research are seen as either black (bad) or white (good) with no view that, for example, anger may be destructive but can create feelings of power and energy, even release. Alongside this simplistic view of emotion are simplistic measurements – and if emotion is measured poorly, say critics, we are left with little real understanding of emotions and aggregated results which have little meaning.
Other critics feel that the whole thrust of positive psychology movement is unabashedly American, and has a very Western concept of “self”. This is not consistent with a movement which claims it is global – the concept of self differs considerably in Eastern and Asian cultures.
I outlined the lack of reflection and self-critique of the movement which has resolutely resisted the calls of other academics to acknowledge these criticisms or even to defend its position. Finally, I spoke of the disturbing sale of positive psychology courses to cancer sufferers as a method of self-cure. This last has no empirical evidence base to support it at all and claims that it does have outraged physicians and oncologists.
All in all, I thought, a good list of reasons to view the claims of the movement with caution.
However, a little like those who sought messages from their deceased loved ones, my audience was still intrigued by positive psychology, even while they acknowledged the weight of the evidence.
To the extent that should a consultant come knocking, they would still buy? I asked. There were nods around the table from the same heads which had been shaken at poor research methodology and inadequate sample sizes.
Which got me thinking – are some ideas so intuitively appealing that regardless of the efficacy, we would buy them?
concentrate on the strengths of human beings, rather than their weaknesses? To bury the stick, and not even need so many carrots?
And I found myself remembering that the purchase of any type of consultancy or the advocacy of an idea doesn’t take place in a vacuum; it says something about a leader, about a leadership team, about an individual.
I’ve always known this, of course. In a small consultancy you never forget the mantra of “no-one ever got fired for hiring IBM”. But somehow, as I research more and more into “new” ideas which look more and more like some pretty old ones, I think I was of the view that the rational arguments (does it work? Where’s the proof?) still hold some sway.
But the message of positive psychology is so optimistic, so human, so humane that it seems to bypass the normal rational processes that we imagine drive managerial decision making.
Or it may serve as an illustration that managerial decision making is like all decision making – not rational or calculated and based on careful consideration of the evidence, but influenced by emotion, prejudices, personal history and an awareness of self image. It is the idea, not proof or evidence, which ultimately encourages management to buy.
One final – and more positive - thought might be that it’s heartening to recognise that managers can still hope that there is an alternative management style which embraces rather than confronts the workforce – and that they’re willing to cross their fingers and jump to reach it.
Friday 25 June 2010
something thought provoking for all "difficult" people
"I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." — Marilyn Monroe
newbie
Not being the greatest technician in the world and being - frankly - a bit slow on a computer, it's taken me nearly an hour to try and remove a photo from my new blog. In the end I lost patience with my denseness and also the late hour and simply deleted the blog.
I was going to look at others' blogs, to see style, design, content - but then I thought - how hard can it be? And an hour and a half later, here I am, bleary-eyed and wondering how I'm going to work in the morning.
So if you're reading this, look - in the next few months - for some thoughts on things dear to my heart. Management of people, consultants and their promises and a rather more critical approach.
As I'm a consultant, who I am to call the pot black? Fair comment, but then again, this has never stopped me pointing at the emperor's new clothes and sniggering.
I was going to look at others' blogs, to see style, design, content - but then I thought - how hard can it be? And an hour and a half later, here I am, bleary-eyed and wondering how I'm going to work in the morning.
So if you're reading this, look - in the next few months - for some thoughts on things dear to my heart. Management of people, consultants and their promises and a rather more critical approach.
As I'm a consultant, who I am to call the pot black? Fair comment, but then again, this has never stopped me pointing at the emperor's new clothes and sniggering.
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