Frans Johansson (2004, p. 59) offers a similar approach in suggesting ways to bring about the Medici Effect:
“Apply the idea to someone or something else: Imagine that you are designing a beach house. What would it look like? Now assume that you are designing that house for Pablo Picasso how would that change the design? Forget that you have no idea of what he actually wanted, but work from your perception of who Picasso was as a person. Then suppose you were designing the house for opera singer Luciano Pavarotti. What would happen to the size of the rooms, the curvature of the valves? The ideas you would get from these types of explorations could evolve into something interesting and unique when combined with your standard way of thinking about such a project.
Create constraints: When a yoga teacher broke her arm, she was not sure if she could continue teaching while it healed. She soon found, though, that without the use of her arm, she naturally resorted to new and inventive methods for both understanding her own body and teaching yoga. By creating constraints, by accident or on purpose, we may be pushed to explore alternative ways to solve a given problem. Say that you are trying to innovate your in-store customer service operation. What happens if you assume that the customer service personnel can’t speak? Or can’t use their hands? By creating constraints, you may break down the barriers and think of ideas that would never have occurred to you otherwise.”
For both the architect and yoga teacher, the set has been broken without either of them abandoning their core focus and mission. They have broken barriers while not forgetting what is at the heart of their work. The center holds while diversity of ideas abounds.
The Balancing Act
We witness this balancing act between diversity and an enduring center in the way Abraham Lincoln managed his presidency. He remained open to new ideas and a variety of opinions offered by members of his cabinet (and many other people) while holding true to his fundamental values and commitment to preserving the union of his country. This balancing act was not always appreciated by those with whom we worked. As Kearns Goodwin (2005, p. 675) notes:
“. . . by the end of his tenure as Attorney General, Bates had formed a more spacious understanding of the president’s unique leadership style. . . . ‘Mr. Lincoln,’ Bates told Francis Carpenter, ‘comes very near being a perfect man, according to my ideal of manhood. He lacks but one thing … the element of will. I have sometimes told him, for instance, that he was unfit to be intrusted with the pardoning power. Why, if a man comes to him with a touching story, his judgment is almost certain to be affected by it. Should the applicant be a woman, a wife, a mother, or a sister, in nine cases out of ten, her tears, if nothing else, are sure to prevail.'”
Bates could appreciate Lincoln’s generosity and caring attitude but felt that it got in the way of his president’s ability to make hard decisions. What Bates failed to see was the application of Lincoln’s willingness to hear all sides before making a decision based on his core values. There was also a failure on Bates’ part to appreciate the value of engaging both thoughts and feelings when making decisions in a complex setting. Tears are just as important as cogent reasoning—especially when they reveal diverse perspectives on a specific issue and are evident in people (women) who are often marginalized.
Hierarchy and Flocking
Those who study complex systems have offered a startling observation: the more complex a condition being faced by any organization, community or nation, the less appropriate it is for this system to operate in a hierarchical manner. While this observation was made quite a few years ago (Waldrop, 1992) it has held true in most instances—especially regarding complex, adaptive systems (Miller and Page, 2007). There are few other propositions that are as radical regarding the successful operations of a system then this one.
