Category: Focus

  • Rethinking Boundaries: Lessons from the Ashes 🏏

    Rethinking Boundaries: Lessons from the Ashes 🏏

    With the Ashes about to begin again, this time in Australia, I’ve found myself thinking about boundaries. Not just the rope around the edge of the cricket field, but the kind we’re encouraged to set in our personal and working lives.

    I loved the 2005 Ashes. I was utterly absorbed, listening to Test Match Special, watching as many deliveries as I could as England snatched that unforgettable victory from Australia. I remember one of my friends sharing his love for cricket by saying “It’s such an amazing game: you can play for five days and come out with a draw”.

    But as the Ashes has come around this time, the idea of boundaries has been playing on my mind in an unexpected way.

    Boundaries everywhere…except in cricket

    We’re encouraged, rightly, for the most part, to set clear personal boundaries which are healthy. Gen Z in particular is frequently praised for being better than previous generations at setting and holding them. When we understand what is acceptable to us and what is not, we create the conditions to flourish.

    Most sports reflect the same logic. Boundaries define the limits of play and help maintain control. Step outside the line in rugby, football, netball, basketball, or hockey, and play stops. The boundary represents the edge, or the point at which play halts and the boundary-crosser loses control.

    Cricket inverts this logic. 🏏

    In cricket, breaking the boundary is celebrated. If the ball reaches it along the ground, the batting side earns four runs; if it sails clean over, they earn six.

    The boundary isn’t a barrier…it’s a marker of success!

    Where most sports insist you stay within the lines to keep playing, cricket rewards you for going beyond them.

    A different kind of limit

    That swap feels worth exploring. It suggests that not all boundaries exist to constrain us. Some are meant to be crossed. Some show us what success looks like.

    Think of hierarchical boundaries, policy boundaries, cultural boundaries, or the quiet habitual boundaries we rarely question. Some are essential and protective. Others are flexible. Some are assumptions hiding as rules. And some, perhaps, sit far too close to us, defining a comfort zone we’ve mistaken for a limit.

    Cricket illustrates this beautifully. When a ball is clearly racing away towards the rope, commentators often say the fielders shouldn’t bother chasing. It’s gone too far. The runs are already earned. The boundary, in that moment, is not an obstacle but a signal of achievement.

    The long game

    I’m not advocating a Bazball approach to life – swinging wildly in every direction in the hope of racking up runs. Like Test cricket, life usually needs a blend of patience and ambition. Sometimes we play a defensive shot. Sometimes we take the single. And sometimes we take a lovely cover drive that carries us beyond the rope.

    In a Test match, the game unfolds over long periods of time, with momentum shifting subtly over hours or days. Success isn’t just about bold strikes, it’s about understanding the game’s rhythm.

    So perhaps the question isn’t: Should I have boundaries?

    But rather: What kind of boundary is this – and what is it for?

    Useful boundaries, debatable boundaries, and the ones worth playing with

    I know from experience that clear personal and professional boundaries support my wellbeing. They help me focus, recover, and make thoughtful choices.

    But it’s possibly true that some boundaries deserve scrutiny.

    Some are rigid and non-negotiable, some are assumptions we inherited, some mark the edges of our fears rather than our true limits.

    Some are there to protect us and some might just be pointing us towards what success could look like—if we dared to push further.

    A thought to take into the Series

    As we settle into another Ashes series of five days, five matches, and all the drama, there remains an intriguing paradox: Cricket is played within boundaries…yet it celebrates the moments when those boundaries are crossed.

    Perhaps the same is true in life? Not all lines are drawn to keep us in – sometimes they show us how far we can go.

    P.S. I’ve taken a different approach to writing this blog. I did lots of rambling into a voice note and refined it with an LLM. Then I’ve polished it and put my own ‘spin’ back on it. What do you think?

  • Cars Got a Production Line. Knowledge Work Needs Something Better

    Cars Got a Production Line. Knowledge Work Needs Something Better

    If I were to say to you, “You know what would be a great way to build a car? Put all the necessary parts in the middle of the factory floor, scattered around the chassis, then ask each person to grab their tools and come up and do their bit,” you’d think I was crazy.

    And yet, this is how most knowledge work projects seem to be organised.

    We plonk a project or a challenge in front of a group of people and say, “You’re a team now. Work as a team. But you’re autonomous and self-organised. Get the things you need, meet when you want, produce results.” And for some reason, we think that’s going to work well.

    I know knowledge work is producing something different to a car. It’s often based on transferring hard-won skills, knowledge, experience and understanding, through deep thought, analysis, categorisation, and problem solving, into something outcome-based.

    So why the parallel?

    Because the current way isn’t working.

    The breakthrough in the early twentieth century of the ‘Production Line’—where the team workers stayed still and pulled the car chassis to their station along a pre-determined production route when they had capacity—increased productivity many-fold. Scraping my memory banks, I think early cars used to take something like 12 hours to build in the ‘craft’ model (as I described in the opening). Come the Production Line, it was less than 1.5 hours.

    Knowledge work is still fumbling around in the 12-hour mark. There hasn’t been, in many industries, the significant leap in productivity. Research from Asana shows that knowledge workers spend around 60% of their time on ‘work about work’, not productive tasks. Surprised? Me neither.

    This is nothing to do with hybrid, remote or office working. This is nothing to do with four-day weeks. This is to do with clear outcomes, clear ways of working, and removal of distractions.

    What Happened to Autonomy?

    The term ‘knowledge work’ was first popularised by Peter Drucker in the 1950s and 60s. He later observed in the 1990s:

    “Knowledge workers must be autonomous. They must know more about their job than anyone else in the organisation. For this reason, they must be responsible for their productivity and quality of work.”
    Peter Drucker, Management Challenges for the 21st Century (1999)

    I propose a distinction between autonomous process and autonomous fulfilment—or, to put it another way, productivity and quality.

    Autonomous, self-emerging productivity processes, in the current climate, seem to lead to people fumbling around, sending lots of emails, messages, and meetings. It isn’t clear who’s doing what or why. See Cal Newport’s definition of the Hyperactive Hive Mind, where unscheduled communication via emails and instant messages dominates the workday, undermining focus and flow.
    Cal Newport, A World Without Email (2021)

    Process should be observed, crafted, and continuously improved. Like the Production Line.

    How we get things done is where autonomy should remain—to ensure quality. When the work is in my court, let me work out how to play it to achieve the outcome to a high standard, using my skill as a knowledge worker.

    A Lean-Inspired ‘Production Line’ for Knowledge Work

    A great knowledge work ‘Production Line’ equivalent will come from Lean thinking. This could include doing things like:

    1. Map the steps currently taken from trigger/request through to value fulfilment.
    2. Limit how much work can sit in any one part of the process—less is more.
    3. Set entry and exit criteria to ensure quality at each step.
    4. Pull work into your step only when you have capacity—never push.
    5. Observe delays or bottlenecks (often approvals or key-person dependencies)—can you redesign, eliminate, or scale them?
    6. Continuously improve the system based on what you observe.

    I’ve tried this many times over the years. I remember one Marketing team who did this and reduced the time it took to produce campaigns by about 20%, improved the quality, and were able to experiment more often to see what landed best with audiences.

    It works.


    So… How Is Your Organisation Running Knowledge Work Projects?

    Is everyone standing around the work in the middle, trying their best but delivering little?

    Or is your work flowing—clear, limited, and effective?


    References

    • Drucker, P. F. Management Challenges for the 21st Century (1999)
    • Newport, C. A World Without Email (2021)
    • Asana. Anatomy of Work Index (2022). https://asana.com/resources/anatomy-of-work
    • Womack, J. P., Jones, D. T., & Roos, D. The Machine That Changed the World (1990)
  • I had a dream… and now I have a published play!

    I had a dream… and now I have a published play!

    A couple of years ago, I was running my theatre company’s writing group and I had to come up with something for a workshop we were running that week. I had no idea what do write – until I had a strange dream one night about being chased through a hotel lobby by a couple of goons in suits. That’s it!, I thought! That’ll be the scene…but, I continued, I’ll also acknowledge that it’s a dream. The character can ‘wake up’ at the end and stumble into reality…or another dream.

    It was a fun device and worked well for the workshop. So well in fact that I thought I should do more with it. I scrawled down some ideas from dreams and started to plot out some characters. I knew I had a couple of long flights ahead of me so, in a partial, dream-like state, I pounded out several thousand words of a play. Some scenes were dreams, some were ‘real’, some were short, others long. I was relatively pleased with it, so I took it along to the writing group for some feedback.

    “It doesn’t have a plot.”

    Yes. About that. Well, that was one of the sharpest pieces of feedback. But they were right. It was a collection of scenes that didn’t really go anywhere. So I made some choices about the arc of the play and the characters, did some heavy editing, and ended up with Polly’s Gone: a surreal, one-act drama.

    We previewed it through a script-in-hand ‘rehearsed reading’ and workshopped some more ideas before finally producing it for the Bristol One-Act Festival in 2024. We won a couple of acting awards, which was great for the company. I loved working with the team to bring this play to life.

    The play sparked lots of discussion from the audience: what was real or imagined, how did it end, what would happen next? And for a time, I did debate writing a part two or the second half of the play. In the end, I decided to leave it as a one-act. There’s no more to be said in this story.

    One of the things I love most about theatre is it’s transient nature. It comes and it goes. Unlike any other artwork, there is no artefact beyond the memories of the actors and audience (photos notwithstanding). And maybe it is getting older or something, but I wanted to have an artefact for this play – some sort of legacy, physical, thing – to hold in my hands and say ‘I made this’.

    So I’ve published my play.

    It’s available now on Amazon right now! And I’m very excited to have a physical copy in my hands! Kindle version available too.

    If you want to know what the play is about, here’s the pitch:



    Many, many thanks to my good friends who got involved in producing this play and for coming to see it and support our work. It means a great deal to me.

    And now I can say I’m a published author. What fun!

  • Does your canopy of work make sense?

    Does your canopy of work make sense?

    Another trip to Westonbirt Arboretum, another incredibly valuable lesson in the development of the Outcomes Tree. I was so enthused, I took a picture. Check out this beautiful Acer tree:

    Look at the gorgeous canopy, the perfection of the Japanese Maple leaves – extraordinarily satisfying, yes? Such perfection in nature! Look down the branches – layers of growth and life. Then to the trunk…hang on…there’s two trunks! Two trees! Living in perfect harmony with each other. Check those leaves again – oh yes, the ones on the right are slightly more mature, a reddening in the pigment compared to the ones on the left. Two lives, combined as one.

    Multiple Trees at Work

    In a recent Outcomes Tree workshop, someone asked me how it works if there are multiple trees in an organisation. This picture is, I think, a healthy metaphor for answering that question.

    Very often in organisations, there’s a lot of land-grabbing, empire-building, whatever you want to call it – it’s the equivalent of fighting for the sun at the expense of everything else around. It’s a desperate and limiting pursuit of power at the expense of others. It actually reduces the overall impact of the organisation, demoralises some and promotes others. What the Acers teach us is that, when we are working together, there’s space for both of us. See how each tree makes space for the other; how they flourish in their respective space and limit their overlap; and ultimately, how they appear united as one single canopy.

    When using multiple Outcomes Trees in an organisation, we need to look to see if the overall canopy makes sense.

    Do some outcomes cede way for others so there’s an overall, natural coherence beyond the individual pursuit?

    Where there’s space for our specialism, can we thrive and grow? Where there’s overlap, can we combine or cede growth for the benefit of the overall?

    I understand ceding looks like giving up something or giving it away but, you can see here, it’s natural for the benefit of the overall. There is room for all of us. There is abundance if we embrace it. Internal politics and aggression will be to any organisations detriment, not growth, and land-grabbing doesn’t help. Coherent, generous growth with an abundance mindset will endure.

    Mature leaves=mature leaders

    And what about the more mature leaves? What can they teach us? I believe they show us that in a healthy organisation, there are some experiments more advanced in their learning than others, and we can follow their lead; I also believe it shows us that the more mature people are in an organisation, the more willing they are to ‘go first’ and forge a bold, new set of outcomes for the future. The reddened leaves are going first to provide their energy back to the tree – and our leaders can do the same for our organisations.

    Dare you cede something for the benefit of the canopy?

    The impression from the outside of any organisation should be one, coherent experience (or canopy), even if, internally, it means we cede growth to others for the overall benefit of the customer or user experience.

    Does your canopy of work make sense? Is there too much overlap? Can you cede control over some things to promote growth overall?

    Watch the FREE Green Shoots introduction to the Outcomes Tree to get started growing your own!

  • Was Marcus Aurelius an Agilist?

    Was Marcus Aurelius an Agilist?

    Lessons in Change from an Ancient Philosopher.

    In the run up to my 40th birthday, I thought I should read some classic philosophy. I’ve just finished reading Meditations, a collection of personal reflections by Roman Emperor Philosopher, Marcus Aurelius, written in the second century of the Common Era.

    I picked three such reflections (or ‘Chapters’ as they’re called) which I thought were humbling and important to bear in mind when thinking about the work we sometimes do as Agile Coaches and change agents.

    The numbers quoted below refer to the Book & Chapter.

    First, was a compelling reminder from 4.42:

    Change: nothing inherently bad in the process, nothing inherently good in the result.

    Here, Marcus Aurelius reminds us, even the evangelical change agents, that just because we say it’ll be better by doing things differently, it doesn’t necessarily make it so.

    We must always be careful to check ourselves against a deep-seated belief that changing things will improve them. There is, as Aurelius says, nothing inherently bad in the process of changing things and nothing inherently good in the result – we must work at both aspects.

    I’ve worked with people who assume that just because of a business model, framework, brand, etc. is what it is, that it’s inherently better at creating products and services that engage, inspire and wow customers than the competition. This is short-sighted thinking that risks hubris and complacency.

    We must work to understand the difficulties and challenges of change as we move through the process, which may be a good or bad process (however one might define ‘good’ or ‘bad’); a breeze or a quagmire. And we must not be precious about the result – it is wholly possible that change isn’t better – and in fact we need to shift direction and move elsewhere based on what we learn through the process.

    An important lesson for evangelists!

    Second, for those struggling with change, 7.18:

    Is someone afraid of change? Well, what can ever come to be without change? Or what is dearer or closer to the nature of the Whole than change? Can you yourself take your bath, unless the wood that heats it is not changed? Can you be fed, unless what you eat changes? Can any other of the benefits of life be achieved without change? Do you not see then that for you to be changed is equal, and equally necessary to the nature of the Whole?

    We often work with people who are afeared of change because of what it says about themselves, their roles, careers, industries; but this meditation gives us hope that everything changes – and that it is perfectly normal and natural. I work with people who don’t want to change, and I understand it: they’ve build successful, long careers doing things a certain way and change threatens it. In their hearts, they must truly understand that nothing remains still – through the career they have built, they will have changed – their practices, their skills, their identity, because we are human beings as part of nature – and change is natural.

    This Chapter gave me hope for those we partner with and walk alongside on the journey of change.

    And finally, 5.23:

    Keep in mind how fast things pass by and are gone—those that are now, and those to come. Existence flows past us like a river: the “what” is in constant flux, the “why” has a thousand variations. Nothing is stable, not even what’s right here. The infinity of past and future gapes before us—a chasm whose depths we cannot see. So it would take an idiot to feel self-importance or distress. Or any indignation, either. As if the things that irritate us lasted.

    This verse speaks to me on the nature of Agile product development. Things move fast and change happens every day (today we’re all excited about ChatGPT – whatever happened to Stable Diffusion? Has it come and gone already?) As is noted, the what and why have many variations; it’s only our hope that the ‘how’ (working with greater agility) is better (but that’s no guarantee from the first lesson). This meditation shows the folly of having long-term plans or being stressed at things slipping on a Gantt chart, for the future, as noted, gapes as a chasm before us and we cannot predict everything that will befall us in time.

    It’s also worth bearing in mind that if we Agilists ‘irritate’ others – that we probably won’t last either! A wise lesson in meeting people where they are.

    Some insightful lessons from 1850-year-old philosophy about navigating modern change.

    There were many other Chapters I’ve underlined for personal reflections on the themes of time, presence, death, the cyclical nature of things, nature itself, fate, and our place in the Whole. A most edifying read.

    Have you read Meditations? What stands out for you?

  • Why we must reclaim the human face of meetings

    Why we must reclaim the human face of meetings

    Do you know how big your ‘self-view’ video is on Zoom when someone else is sharing content? It’s pretty small, right? In fact, on my 27” monitor, when Zoom is fullscreen and someone is sharing content, every person’s video is about 1.5” x 1” (4cm x 2.5cm).

    Do you know how big the content is? On my monitor, it’s 16” x 10”. That means that you could fit about 100 people’s videos into the size of the content. Are we really saying that when someone is presenting, everyone else’s input is only worth about 1/100th of the value? No wonder people don’t bother contributing or turning their video on; the app is telling them they are not as valuable or worthy as whatever is being shared.

    This was thrown into sharp focus for me recently when I prepared for, and then delivered, an in-person workshop. The team and I spent lots of time crafting and refining slides in preparation for the event to drive the agenda and content. But when we started working together in person at the event, the slides faded into insignificance compared to the actual conversations that took place, and the space I was sharing with other human beings. Suddenly, the slide content was a mere backdrop, not a foreground, and the interactions and individuals took centre-stage. The engagement from participants was absolute, the interactions were insightful and fun, and the outcomes were undoubtedly better.

    When we are in person, the people are the most important thing.

    My personal and professional purpose is to liberate the greatness in others. I believe that humans are inherently brilliant, and if we can only find ways to help each other to switch off their censors and unleash their genius, we’ll all fly. And here was an event where, what I’d prepped, may have been in the way of liberating greatness. This event was a humbling reminder of what I instinctively knew anyway; that when we are in person, the people are the most important thing.

    There’s a building consensus that online, or e-learning, wasn’t successful for children during the pandemic. Whilst schools are all back in classrooms now, we haven’t yet applied some of this understanding to the corporate world. I’m certainly not advocating for getting everyone back into offices – in fact, I think most of the time, most of the work we do can be done from anywhere. When we are expecting to learn, collaborate, and workshop ideas through however, then prioritising the human attendees’ experience must be the best way.

    I make a distinction between just being ‘in-person’ and prioritising attendees, because I think we can do so much more through our current media of choice (Zoom or MS Teams or a.n.other) to recognise that we’re sharing the time and space together as ingenuous, brave, collaborative, thought-provoking human beings.

    I’ve been on two, online, two-day short courses recently. One course used only three slides, temporarily, over the entire duration of the course and it changed my life for the better. One had nearly 400 slides onscreen the whole time over two days and made me wish I’d made better life choices.

    I don’t believe this is all our fault. My hypothesis is that attendees on calls are acting in alignment with what the apps are telling them – that they not as valuable as the ‘content’ being shared. And, with this self-fulfilling prophecy, engagement declines, thinking stops, cameras go off, mics go on mute, and we’re reduced to a quiet box in the corner, overshadowed by what, visually, we’re being told is important – i.e., not us.

    We must reclaim the human face of meetingsespecially when we’re online. We must endeavour to think about the experiences of the attendees, show them their contribution matters, and value their input and creativity as human beings. I, for one, will hack-and-slash the number of slides I ever choose to use again on screen and stop sharing them as soon as I can, if it’s required at all. I encourage you to do the same. If we don’t, we risk losing the insights and inputs from the attendees that can sustain and save our organisations from irrelevance.

  • Is there a Place for Seasonality at Work?

    Is there a Place for Seasonality at Work?

    One of my favourite places to walk is Westonbirt Arboretum near our home. It’s a great way to get back to nature and clear my head whilst supporting conservation work. On my most recent visit, I was marvelling at the structures of the trees now that all the leaves have fallen. These marvellous, decades-old organisms are saving all their energy and growth for spring: fresh buds, flowers, leaves, fruit. And it got me wondering if nature can teach us something about this time of year away from the pressures of ‘new year’s resolutions’ and towards embracing seasonality in our working lives?

    From the first of January, the start of the new calendar year, we’re often encouraged to set new goals and resolutions, and yet it’s a very arbitrary date. If we look to the rest of the natural world, it’s not starting afresh – it is midwinter! Plants are saving energy for fresh buds; animals are hibernating and hunkering down to be ready for spring; and here we are ‘getting after it’, ‘living our best life’, making radical changes…then not sticking with it, getting ill, and burning out. It doesn’t make much sense, it doesn’t appear to be very sustainable, and yet LinkedIn is full of people ‘bringing it on’ and ‘owning 2023’.

    We are connected to nature too – being human beings.

    Yes, reflect on the lessons of the previous season, nourish yourself with wholesome food, more knowledge, and enjoy movement; clear out unnecessary clutter and excesses of the past, but also be gentle, warm, kind and compassionate to yourself too. And when the first buds of new ideas and new goals arise, they will do so with greater clarity and fresh energy too.

    This is an invitation to not feel as great a pressure to set all those big goals and get started on everything now. Listen to yourself and to the natural world and respond appropriately. Reflect on what’s worked, what hasn’t; think about what you want to try out; maybe even explore a couple of ideas and experiments but consider that there may be a genuinely more invigorating time for renewal later.

    I am not saying do not do anything now.

    I know that life continues, that business thrives, that organisations endure. I’m merely advocating for observing more seasonality in our work and life – to acknowledge that there is ebb and flow, rather than being constantly ‘on’. For when we are ‘on’ 24/7, we run down to nothing and have nothing wonderful left to give the world. And I know that each and every person does have something extraordinary to offer.

    Personally, I’ve set goals for the next quarter and have a vision for the longer-term, but I’m not worrying about new year’s resolutions.

    And when you are ready to make the connections between those big, far-away goals and the experimental actions you want to start with today, then check out my Outcomes Tree idea. It’s an agile, responsive, and natural way to live in alignment with your purpose, bring value to your work, and change outcomes for the better.

  • What No One Tells You About Guilt and Embarrassment

    What No One Tells You About Guilt and Embarrassment

    Hands up who has been ‘guilt-tripped’ into working late to finish a report or assignment. OK, hands down. Hands up anyone who has felt embarrassed by their dad’s dancing. Anyone? Yeah. Well, here’s the thing:

    Guilt and embarrassment are not a useful emotions.

    What do I mean, ‘useful’? I learned recently that there are, in essence, four emotions. And those four emotions are useful things. The four essential emotions are:

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  • Stop Pretending, and Start Innovating

    Stop Pretending, and Start Innovating

    I saw a really interesting position listed on the vacancies list called Head of Innovation the other day. I love the idea of innovation and I have sometimes been called ‘innovative’ and it got me thinking, if that were me, what would innovation need to thrive? Innovation doesn’t just happen, I don’t suppose. It needs certain parameters to happen. But what might those parameters be? Too restrictive and innovation is stifled. Too broad and nothing ever gets done. So what are the components of innovation? Well, here are my ideas:

     

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  • A Presentation Blast from the Past