One of the reasons for this wide-spread institutional failure is that the knowledge-creating system, the method by which human beings collectively learn and by which society’s institutions improve and revitalize themselves, is deeply fragmented. This fragmentation has developed so gradually that few of us have noticed it; we take the disconnections between the branches of knowledge and between knowledge and practice as a given

A Knowledge-Creating System

Before we can address the issue of fragmentation, we need to establish what has been fragmented. In other words, what do we mean by a knowledge-creating system, and what does it mean to say it is fragmented?

THE CYCLE OF KNOWLEDGE-CREATION

Like theories, the tree’s roots are invisible, and yet the health of the root system determines the health of the tree. The branches are the methods and tools, which enable translation of theories into new capabilities and practical results. The fruit is that practical knowledge. The tree as a whole is a system.

We believe that human communities have always attempted to organize themselves to maximize the production, transmittal, and application of knowledge. In these activities, different individuals fulfill different roles, with varying degrees of success. For example, in indigenous cultures, elders articulate timeless principles grounded in their experience to guide their tribes’ future actions. “Doers, “whether warriors, growers, hunters, or nannies, try to learn how to do things better than before and continually improve their craft. And coaches and teachers help people develop their capacities to both perform their roles and grow as human beings. These three activities-which we can term theory-building, practice, and capacity-building-are intertwined and woven into the fabric of the community in a seamless process that restores and advances the knowledge of the tribe. One could argue that this interdependent knowledge-creating system is the only way that human beings collectively learn, generate new knowledge, and change their world.

We can view this system for producing knowledge as a cycle. People apply available knowledge to accomplish their goals. This practical application in turn provides experiential data from which new theories can be formulated to guide future action. New theories and principles then lead to new methods and tools that translate theory into practical know-how, the pursuit of new goals, and new experience-and the cycle continues.

Imagine that this cycle of knowledge-creation is a tree (see “The Cycle of Knowledge-Creation” on p.1). The tree’s roots are the theories. Like theories, the roots are invisible to most of the world, and yet the health of the root system to a large extent determines the health of the tree. The branches are the methods and tools, which enable translation of theories into new capabilities and practical results. The fruit is that practical knowledge. In a way, the whole system seems designed to produce the fruit. But, if you harvest and eat all the fruit from the tree, eventually there will be no more trees. So, some of the fruit must be used to provide the seeds for more trees. The tree as a whole is a system.

The tree is a wonderful metaphor, because it functions through a profound, amazing transformational process called photosynthesis. The roots absorb nutrients from the soil. Eventually, the nutrients flow through the trunk and into the branches and leaves. In the leaves, the nutrients interact with sunlight to create complex carbohydrates, which serve as the basis for development of the fruit.

So, what are the metaphorical equivalents that allow us to create fruits of practical knowledge in our organizations? We can view research activities as expanding the root system to build better and richer theories. Capacity-building activities extend the branches by translating the theories into usable methods and tools. The use of these methods and tools enhances people’s capabilities. The art of practice in a particular line of work transforms the theories, methods, and tools into usable knowledge as people apply their capabilities to practical tasks, much as the process of photosynthesis converts the nutrients into leaves, flowers, and fruit. In our society,

• Research represents any disciplined approach to discovery and understanding with a commitment to share what’s being learned. We’re not referring to white-coated scientists performing laboratory experiments; we mean research in the same way that a child asks, “What’s going on here?” By pursuing such questions, research-whether performed by academics or thoughtful managers or consultants reflecting on their experiences-continually generates new theories about how our world works.
• Practice is anything that a group of people does to produce a result. It’s the application of energy, tools, and effort to achieve something practical. An example is a product development team that wants to build a better product more quickly at a lower cost. By directly applying the available theory, tools, and methods in our work, we generate practical knowledge
• Capacity-building links research and practice. It is equally committed to discovery and understanding and to practical know-how and results. Every learning community includes coaches, mentors, and teachers – people who help others build skills and capabilities through developing new methods and tools that help make theories practical.

“The Stocks and Flows of Knowledge-Creation” shows how the various elements are linked together in a knowledge-creating system.

THE STOCKS AND FLOWS OF KNOWLEDGE-CREATION

Research activities build better and richer theories. Capacity-building functions translate the theories into usable methods and tools. The use of these methods and tools enhances people’s capabilities. The art of practice transforms the theories, methods, and tools into practical knowledge, as people apply their capabilities to practical tasks.

Institutionalized Fragmentation

If knowledge is best created by this type of integrated system, how did our current systems and institutions become so fragmented? To answer that question, we need to look at how research, practice, and capacity-building are institutionalized in our culture (see “The Fragmentation of Institutions”).

For example, what institution do we most associate with research Universities? What does the world of practice encompass? Corporations, schools, hospitals, and nonprofits. And what institution do we most associate with capacity-building-people helping people in the practical world? Consulting, or the HR function within an organization. Each of these institutions has made that particular activity its defining core. And, because research, practice, and capacity-building each operate within the walls of separate institutions, it is easy for the people within these institutions to feel cut off from each other, leading to suspicion, stereo typing, and an “us” versus “them” mindset.

This isolation leads to severe communication breakdown. For example, many people have argued that the academic community has evolved into a private club. Nobody understands what’s going on but the club members. They talk in ways that only members can understand. And the members only let in others like themselves.

Consulting institutions have also undermined the knowledge-creating process, by making knowledge proprietary, and by not sharing what they’ve learned. Many senior consultants have an incredible amount of knowledge about organizational change, yet they have almost no incentive to share it, except at market prices.

Finally, corporations have contributed to the fragmentation by their bottom-line orientation, which places the greatest value on those things that produce immediate, practical results. They have little patience for investing in research that may have payoffs over the long term or where payoffs cannot be specifically quantified.

Technical Rationality: One Root of Fragmentation

How did we reach this state of fragmentation? Over hundreds of years, we have developed a notion that knowledge is the province of the expert, the researcher, the academic. Often, the very term science is used to connote this kind of knowledge, as if the words that come out of the mouths of scientists are somehow inherently more truthful than everyone else’s words.

Donald Schon has called this concept of knowledge “technical rationality.” First you develop the theory, then you apply it. Or, first the experts come in and figure out what’s wrong, and then you use their advice to fix the problem. Of course, although the advice may be brilliant, sometimes we just can’t figure out how to implement it.

But maybe the problem isn’t in the advice. Maybe it’s in the basic assumption that this method is how learning or knowledge-creation actually works. Maybe the problem is really in this very way of thinking: that first you must get “the answer,” then you must apply it.

THE FRAGMENTATION OF INSTITUTIONS

Because research, practice, and capacity-building each operate within the walls of separate institutions, the people within these institutions feel cut off from each other, leading to suspicion, stereotyping, and an “us” versus “them” mindset.

The implicit notion of technical rationality often leads to conflict between executives and the front-line people in organizations. Executives often operate by the notion of technical rationality: In Western culture, being a boss means having all the answers. However, front-line people know much more than they can ever say about their jobs and about the organization. They actually have the capability to do something, not just talk about something. Technical rationality is great if all you ever have to do is talk.

Organizing for Learning

If we let go of this notion of technical rationality, we can then start asking more valuable questions, such as:

• How does real learning occur?
• How do new capabilities develop?
• How do learning communities that interconnect theory and practice, concept and capability come into being?
• How do they sustain themselves and grow?
• What forces can destroy them, undermine them, or cause them to wither?

Clearly, we need a theory, method, and set of tools for organizing the learning efforts of groups of people.

Real learning is often far more complex and more interesting than the theory of technical rationality suggests. We often develop significant new capabilities with only an incomplete idea of how we do what we do. As in skiing or learning to ride a bicycle, we “do it” before we really understand the actual concept. Similarly, practical know how often precedes new principles and general methods in organizational learning. Yet, this pattern of learning can also be problematic.

For example, teams within a large institution can produce significant innovations, but this new knowledge often fails to spread. Modest improvements may spread quickly, but real breakthroughs are difficult to diffuse. Brilliant innovations won’t spread if there is no way for them to spread; in other words, if there is no way for an organization to extract the general lessons from such innovations and develop new methods and tools for sharing those lessons. The problem is that wide diffusion of learning requires the same commitment to research and capacity-building as it does to practical results. Yet few businesses foster such commitment. Put differently, organizational learning requires a community that enhances research, capacity-building, and practice (see “Society for Organizational Learning” on p. 4)

Learning Communities

We believe that the absence of effective learning communities limits our ability to learn from each other, from what goes on within the organization, and from our most clearly demonstrated breakthroughs. Imagine a learning community as a group of people that bridges the worlds of research, practice, and capacity-building to produce the kind of knowledge that has the power to transform the way we operate, not merely make incremental improvements. If we are interested in innovation and in the vitality of large institutions, then we are interested in creating learning communities that integrate knowledge instead of fragment it.

In a learning community, people view each of the three functions-research, capacity-building, practice-as vital to the whole (see “A Learning Community”). Practice is crucial because it produces tangible results that show that the community has learned something. Capacity-building is important because it makes improvement possible. Research is also key because it provides a way to share learning with people in other parts of the organization and with future generations within the organization. In a learning community, people assume responsibility for the knowledge creating process.

Learning Communities in Action

To commit to this knowledge-creating process, we must first understand what a learning community looks like in action in our organizations. Imagine a typical change initiative in an organization; for example, a product development team trying a new approach to the way they handle engineering changes. Traditionally, such a team would be primarily interested in improving the results on their own projects. Team members probably wouldn’t pay as much attention to deepening their understanding of why a new approach works better, or to creating new methods and tools for others to use. Nor would they necessarily attempt to share their learnings as widely as possible – they might well see disseminating the information as someone else’s responsibility.

In a learning community, however, from the outset, the team conceives of the initiative as a way to maximize learning for itself as well as for other teams in the organization. Those involved in the research process are integral members of the team, not outsiders who poke at the system from a disconnected and fragmented perspective. The knowledge creating process functions in real time within the organization, in a seamless cycle of practice, research, and capacity-building.

Imagine if this were the way in which we approached learning and change in all of our major institutions. What impact might this approach have on the health of any of our institutions, and on society as a whole? Given the problems we face within our organizations and within the larger culture, do we have any choice but to seek new ways to work together to face the challenges of the future? We believe the time has come or us to begin the journey back from fragmentation to wholeness and integration. The time has come for true learning communities to emerge.

Peter M. Senge, best-selling author of The Fifth Discipline: The Art and Practice of the Learning Organization, is an international leader in the area of creating learning organizations. He is a senior lecturer in the Organizational Learning and Change Group at MIT. Peter has lectured throughout the world and written extensively on systems thinking, institutional learning, and leadership.

Daniel H. Kim is a co-founder of Pegasus Communications, Inc., and publisher of The Systems Thinker. He is a prolific author as well as an international public speaker, facilitator, and teacher of systems thinking and organizational learning

Editorial support for this article was provided by Janice Molloy and Lauren Johnson

A LEARNING COMMUNITY

In a learning community, people view each of the three functions—research, capacity-building,practice—as vital to the whole

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THE URGE FOR EFFICACY

This diagram describes two sets of actions we might take to satisfy our desire for efficacy. Loop B1 represents the mechanistic or “impactful” fix to a problem, in which we push through a solution that involves a radical action. Loop R2 depicts the unintended consequences of this approach, fragmentation, which further exacerbates the original problem, or even leads to new ones. Loop B3 shows how taking actions that are intended to join people together, allowing their ideas and talents to emerge, can help to develop the interconnections necessary for organizational success.

How often, though, have we found ourselves in situations where our best efforts have fallen short of producing the benefits we intended and so deeply desired? Perhaps we have experienced success once, but for some unexplained reason we have been unable to reproduce or sustain the results. More confounding still are those times when, rather than improving performance, creating new knowledge, or adding value, we have found that our actions have had an opposite effect. In these cases, the harder we have tried to push ahead, the more resistance we have encountered.

Why do negative consequences often occur when we attempt to have an impact? For one thing, when we successfully execute actions that are specifically designed to radically alter current work processes and outputs, we generally break apart existing structures (see “The Urge for Efficacy”). Sometimes doing so is necessary, as breaking up and clearing away the old is truly the most effective way to create space for the new. But other times, the result can be fragmentation of a sort that isn’t immediately apparent. The sudden shift to a new “order” can shatter many things people previously counted on to be solid, including relationships, the value systems upon which decisions are based, and the motivations of others. Trust, quite literally, is shaken. People retreat into themselves or in small, tightly knit groups to try to sort out what has just happened and to reestablish their own center. This process can lead to a compartmentalization of ideas and energy within the system, often at a time when the health of the system is most dependent on maintaining and growing its interconnections.

In this article, we will explore the nature of these unexpected consequences and how they might occur, despite our good intentions. We will examine how the work cultures we have created, and even the language we use to describe the act of making a difference, may be partly responsible for unhappy or unsustainable results. We will explore a model that suggests different language choices, as well as a less mechanistic and more organic approach to satisfying our urge for efficacy in our organizations, our communities, and the world. And, we will examine a recent case study in which many of the ideas presented here continue to be tested.

Clues in the Language

“Language exerts hidden power, like a moon on the tides.”

—Rita Mae Brown, Starting From Scratch, 1988

Over the years, I have been fortunate to work with leaders and teams in extraordinary organizations. My own passion for issues related to health, education, and overall quality of life has meant that most of my colleagues and clients have been affiliated with hospitals, educational institutions, the public sector, or government service. As I often find myself working as a strategic learning partner and coach with organizations that are experiencing significant change, the initial conversations quickly and urgently turn to the subject of “what are we going to do?” I have noticed similarities in the language people in organizations use to describe their concerns, questions, and quest to “do something.” Here are some examples of commonly used expressions:

“We’re going to have to wrestle that one to the ground.”

“They’d better be prepared to go to the mat.”

“We can’t afford another idea that bombs.”

“This should break down the barriers to our success.”

“We’ll just keep grinding away at it.”

“Our approach must hit the target.”

“Whatever we do, it’s got to have an impact.”

These phrases all have one thing in common: They employ physical or mechanical metaphors that involve something hitting against or breaking up something else.

My growing curiosity has caused me to listen more closely to the nature of the language people use in organizations to describe their problems and challenges. As I have grown more aware, I have noticed that some individuals and teams, particularly those who strive to carefully consider the nature of any crisis prior to reacting, tend to use a different type of metaphor. Here are some examples of these phrases:

“How can we nurture an environment that supports excellence?”

“Is it possible to go with the flow without being swept away?” “What pathways will take us there?” “Is this part of a larger cycle?” “What can we do to grow these ideas?” “Can we take actions that will create a ripple effect?” “Are we really understanding the nature of the system that created this dilemma?” “What are the healthiest and most sustainable solutions?”

Does the language we use to describe our activity say something about the culture of our workplaces and the methodologies we employ to make meaning?

There are two interesting characteristics of these expressions. First, they are all in the form of questions. Second, they all use natural or ecological images to describe an action or state of being. As I have continued to listen for these language differences, however, I have noticed that the more organic, questioning metaphors are not the norm.

I began to seriously wonder: Does the language we use to describe our activity say something about the culture of our workplaces and the methodologies we employ to make meaning? And, as I heard story after story about change initiatives and performance improvement programs failing, I further wondered if a mechanistic mindset, and, subsequently, approaches to our work, might somehow be connected to producing results that are either unsatisfying or unsustainable (see “Mechanistic vs. Organic Fixes”).

Take the word “impact,” for example. Whether used traditionally as a noun (, “We need to make an impact on our customers”) or perhaps more questionably as a verb (, “How will this impact our bottom line?”), this word describes something hitting against something else. Some of the synonyms for “impact,” found in the Synonym Finder (J. I. Rodale, 1978), include “collision,” “crash,” “clash,” “striking,” “bump,” “slam,” “bang,” “knock,” “thump,” “whack,” “thwack,” “punch,” “smack,” and “smash.”

It then occurred to me that an interesting exercise would be to substitute some of these synonyms for the word “impact” in the common and popular phrases I have heard in organizations. Here are some of the more darkly humorous results:

“We need a growth plan that will slam our customer base.”

“This new policy will surely whack the morale of our employees.”

“Our new process improvement program is designed specifically to smash against the quality of our services.”

“Whatever we decide must collide with our community.”

Interestingly, this is also the language that is often used to describe military or war efforts. One example is an article titled “From the Front,” featured in the Albuquerque Journal on March 9, 2003. Writing from a military camp in Kuwait, journalist Miguel Navrot describes the attributes of the redesigned Patriot missile:

“This time, the Patriot is intended to slam directly into targets, destroying it in the supersonic collision.”

While most people do not consciously think about their well-intended solutions as actions that are either based on a military model or designed to smash, crash, and dash something to pieces, one must wonder if there are unintended consequences to this way of talking and thinking about problems and opportunities. Is there not, for example, a natural fragmentation that occurs when we implement actions that constantly hit against ideas, values, work processes, and people? And does this fragmentation support our efforts in the long run, when it causes people to feel disconnected, relationships to shatter, and innovation to become compartmentalized or even disintegrate?

Undeniably there are times when the most effective and necessary actions are those that do, indeed, break something apart, but have we overused these tactics in our quest for efficacy? And, if so, what might constitute the characteristics of a balanced approach?

Looking for an Oasis

Because metaphors paint a verbal picture of ideas, I wondered what would happen if people were asked to draw pictures to symbolize characteristics of different kinds of organizations. Would mechanistic or organic themes appear in their images? To begin exploring this question, I took advantage of three opportunities. The first was an invitation I had received to deliver the closing keynote address to the Public Service Commission of Canada’s annual Emerging Issues Forum for Leaders. The second was the chance to work with members of the Research Association of Medical and Biological Organizations (RAMBO), a diverse group of scientists in New Mexico that gathers regularly to explore scientific questions of mutual interest. The third was an invitation to speak at the 2001 Gossamer Ridge Institute, a think tank of teachers and administrators, mostly from public schools.

At the Canadian conference, I distributed drawing paper, along with markers and crayons in many colors, to all of the participants. I then asked them to create two images: one symbolic of the characteristics and attributes of a typical organization, and the second of the traits of an ideal organization. With the RAMBO group, I asked them to draw a traditional organization of which they had once been a part, and then to draw the RAMBO organization. I asked the educators to draw representations of the typical school and the ideal school.

With each of the three groups, the results were astoundingly similar. Drawings of the “typical” organizations included boxes, squares, and lots of right angles, mostly in black and white or monotone colors. Many drawings depicted rows of people who all looked the same, often captured in contained and compartmentalized cubes. Several incorporated mazes. In almost all cases, the blocky, unifying principles of these pictures were immediately apparent. When asked to describe the meaning of their drawings, people used words such as “constrained,” “programmed,” “stifling,” “demanding,” “demoralizing,” and “dead.”

Drawings of the “ideal” organization showed equally amazing similarities. Brightly colored images of overlapping circles, spirals, prisms, and other free-form designs emerged, with the unifying forces more felt than immediately seen. Depictions of natural landscapes were by far the most common themes: Trees, complete with root systems, were laden with fruit hanging on their branches and birds roosting in their nests. Creatures that looked like amoebas floated in a bright blue sea. Flowers bloomed in the midst of a desert oasis. Purple mountains soared above lush, green valleys and flowing rivers. When asked to describe the symbolism of these drawings, the creators used words such as “flowing,” “creative,” “diverse,” “renewing,” “energizing,” and “alive.” The visual metaphors of the desired organizations, along with the verbal interpretations, indicated a desire for a more organic model than currently existed.

A “Live” Issue

As I mentioned earlier, there are some individuals, teams, and organizations that have consciously chosen to slow down and attempt to understand the nature of the problems or opportunities they are facing, rather than charging full ahead with solutions. The language they tend to articulate reflects a way of thinking that is based on an organic model or world view, rather than a mechanistic one. The use of words such as “nurture,” “create,” and “grow” suggests that the problems and issues are alive and must be treated as such. In fact, this language suggests that the very solutions we employ must themselves be alive. Furthermore, we must understand that the processes we use to choose and implement solutions will ultimately influence the results.

If we choose to think of our opportunities and problems as being alive, how might we change the ways in which we go about planning and taking action? I recently took the opportunity to explore this and other questions about the “urge for efficacy” with Tres Schnell, who serves as the chief of the Injury Prevention and Emergency Medical Services Bureau for the New Mexico Department of Health.

In the aftermath of 9-11 and in defense against possible bioterrorism threats, state health departments throughout the U. S. have been charged with creating and implementing a plan to vaccinate physicians and others who would potentially serve as first responders against smallpox. Over the past few months, New Mexico Public Health Division personnel have devoted much time to developing a thoughtful plan to comply with this request. Based on the principle of “first, do no harm,” the division created a phased approach that would begin with identifying healthcare workers who would likely be the first ones to deal with a patient with smallpox, and then carefully screening to identify and remove from the vaccination pool anyone with risk factors that could lead to adverse effects. The inoculation program would then move forward with its first phase of vaccinating a small group of these primary responders, all of whom understood the potential risks and had volunteered for the program. Over time, the approach would be to carefully and methodically extend the vaccination initiative to other first responders in communities throughout the state, with constant monitoring of any adverse effects or signs that adjustments to the strategy should be made. The plan was implemented during the first week of March, with a handful of key personnel receiving the vaccine.

However, as fears of pending war with Iraq began to escalate, the call came to step up the program and to take actions that would have greater “impact” on the goal of vaccinating more people in a shorter period of time. The Department of Health was suddenly faced with a new sense of urgency to get the job done. I asked Tres about her views on the request to move faster, the possible unintended consequences of doing so, and an approach that could serve to mitigate or avoid those consequences.

When people feel that they are not being heard, they tend to compartmentalize themselves according to their alliances. Blaming often occurs, and then conscientious objection becomes passive, and then active, resistance.

Tres began by relaying the story of the planning process. “As we planned our approach in New Mexico, we did so knowing that opinions about the whole process were diverse,” she explained. “There are many health professionals in this country who do not feel that vaccinating people against smallpox is the right thing to do, given the potential risks of the vaccine itself, and the fact that doing so will divert resources away from other critical public health initiatives. Knowing this, we listened to all views, carefully weighed the risks, and developed a plan that held sacred the charge to ‘first, do no harm.’We were well on our way, through building a strong public health infrastructure and trust in a thoughtful process, to implementing a smallpox vaccination strategy in New Mexico. What we must do now is to respond to this new sense of urgency without creating a situation that divides us internally and diminishes the organic approach we believe is critical to the safety and effectiveness of this initiative.”

Throughout it all, Tres said, “We have the goal of remaining whole, because it is through wholeness that we can be most effective. The danger is that when people feel that they are not being heard, they tend to compartmentalize themselves according to their alliances. Blaming often occurs, and then conscientious objection becomes passive, and then active, resistance. We begin to rationalize that the people who don’t think like we do must be ‘bad.’ So, we cannot allow ourselves to be seduced into a defensive posture that builds those barriers to open, honest information sharing and dialogue. We cannot afford to fragment our relationships as we address the smallpox issue.”

In her role as leader of Emergency Medical Services, Tres insists that decisions on how to proceed cannot be made until the health professionals and their concerns have been heard, no matter how diverse or controversial the ideas. “Our diversity is our true strength,” she says. “This will help people to remain united, not harming each other in ways that will hurt our ability to be effective in the long run. Maintaining and nurturing relationships with one another is more critical now than ever.”

Asked about the messages she is sending to her colleagues, Tres responded, “We need to consciously choose our language — our mantras, if you will — selecting those that maintain and communicate our core principles and values. We must prioritize around our commonalities, not our differences. The threat we are currently facing is the added sense of urgency. If we can respond well to this one, we will learn and respond even better the next time.”

The messages are clear: that the language used and the methods employed must serve to join ideas, perspectives, and people if this very serious issue is to have a positive outcome. In the case of smallpox vaccination plans in New Mexico, the health professionals are finding strength and connectivity in their shared passion for protecting the public’s health. It is a critical time for leaders to model the willingness to listen deeply to differing viewpoints and honor one another’s professionalism. This willingness, coupled with strong relationships that have grown from working together in the past to address public health issues, is enabling the team to move forward more quickly with the plan while at the same time continually monitoring concerns and issues as they arise.

Improving Our Awareness

“If language is not correct, then what is said is not what is meant; if what is said is not what is meant, then what must be done remains undone; if this remains undone, morals and art will deteriorate; if justice goes astray, the people will stand about in helpless confusion. Hence there must be no arbitrariness in what is said. This matters above everything.”

—Confucius

Do we consciously choose our metaphors and our methodologies for taking action, or have our responses and approaches somehow become automatic? And if the latter is true, how can we make a conscious attempt to become more aware of our own language and the influence that our words may have on the nature of the actions that we and those around us take?

The “Language/Action Assessment” on p. 5 is intended to help us to explore our own favored metaphors and the kinds of actions they describe. Take a moment to consider the questions it includes. As you think about your responses, reflect on how experimenting with other language choices might possibly lead to solutions and actions that are more organic and alive than other possibilities. Engaging in this exercise can also be helpful when done as a team activity, especially as part of a strategic or operational planning process.

In answering these questions, we become more aware of our past tendencies. As we more clearly understand our past, we are better able to make thoughtful choices about our future language usage and subsequent actions. In this way, the exercise can help us to achieve true, lasting efficacy.

Choosing the Words We Live By

Whether we are addressing global issues such as the threat of bioterrorism or concerns more specific to our organizations and local communities, thoughtfully and consciously choosing our words and deeds is surely the wisest course of action. The desire to make a difference may well be our birthright. But how we go about attempting to make that difference can affect the quality and sustainability of the outcomes and of our lives. The words of an anonymous philosopher serve to remind us of how what we think can shape who we are:

Watch your thoughts, they become your words.

Watch your words, they become your actions.

Watch your actions, they become your habits.

Watch your habits, they become your character.

Watch your character, it becomes your destiny.

Being human means that we are endowed with the wondrous capacity to consciously choose our words and actions. May we increasingly exercise our ability to do so with clarity, compassion, and an understanding that what we say and do will create our future.

Carolyn J. C. Thompson has devoted more than 20 years to helping organizations create vision driven and values-centered workplaces that are able to ask and address hard questions through engaging the power of the human spirit. She teaches, writes, and consults both in the U. S. and abroad on applying systems thinking and complexity principles to organizational issues. Carolyn resides in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

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