William Bergquist and Gary Quehl
Before moving on to Generativity Three, we want to review ways in which a transition from Generativity Two to Gemerativity Three and Four occurs. As in the case of Generativity One, the second generativity role may be with us throughout our adult lives. It might not always be operating in the spotlight, but it can play a secondary role to Generativity Three and Generativity Four. Somewhere between the spotlight and this supporting role is our role as grandparent in the organization with which we are affiliated and as guardian of traditions in our community. As professional coaches, we can play an important role in assisting our clients with this important transition to expanded generativity.
An Expanded Generativity: Time
We begin with the grand parenting role and the way in which we are honored (or not) in that role. We then turn to a strong, underlying transition that occurs in the lives most of us lead as mid-centurions (men and women between 50 and 70 years of age). We start listening to voices from various rooms in our psyche that have remained mute for many years. These voices often lead us to Generativity Three and Four. The voices can also be denied or ignored for many years, and this often leads us to stagnation. So, we need to pay attention. We identify mid-centurions as the “men and women of Autumn” who are generative rather than being stagnate (Yong, Warrier and Bergquist, 2021). Like the glorious foliage of the Fall season, these Autumnal women and men are more than living out the middle and late stages of life. They are bursting with colorful and generative perspectives and deeply caring actions.
Grand Parenting Organizations
During our late midlife years, we often serve in a quasi-parental role as mentors, motivators, mediators, monitors and motivators to other members of our organization. And we also sometimes act as grandparents to these members and to our entire department, program, or organization. This is especially the case if we are about to retire or have already retired. In many instances, we no longer are a “spark plug” or source of new ideas and innovations—even if we have worked in an organization or community for many years.
Role of Remnant: We may still have many innovative ideas, but the organization or community tends to look to younger and more energetic members to introduce or implement new programs. Some members of the organization, at times, might even consider their older colleagues as barriers to change. Older employees are part of the organizational “remnant,” representing the old values and ways of doing things. They are now the ones who tell stories about the “good old days” and serve the role of historian and archivist (as you will see, a role that is closely associated with Generativity Three). These men and women are now figurehead potentates rather than functional CEOs or prime ministers. They can be easily ignored and forgotten—as a coach we can help them remain visible and vital.
In our role as coach, we can remind our mid-centurion clients that their role as remnants is critical to the core values and continuity of their organizations, communities and culture. This role, however, may not be fully appreciated in contemporary Western societies by younger colleagues. By contrast, as we noted in a previous essay, there is an honored role in many traditional Asian cultures (e.g., Chinese, Indonesians, and Japanese) for the wise organizational grandfather and grandmother. This man or woman often serves as chair of the board or as chief advisor to the head of an organization with which he or she has worked for many years.
As senior members of society and teachers, they have experienced the joy and honor of being educational “grandparents” through teaching their younger colleagues. And they traditionally receive enormous respect from younger contemporaries: They are listened to, and they thoughtfully question and challenge analyses and recommendations about their organization without being competitive or defensive. In a way, they tend to be terrific clients for an organizational consultant.
As we observe practices in Western societies, however, we must conclude that white hair doesn’t necessarily translate to being honored and respected by younger members of an organization or community. In short, Western countries no longer support the role of honored grandparent. Senior men and women are typically “put out to pasture” or given a titular role that may be more of an embarrassment than an honor. Organizations and communities simply fail to avail themselves of these “grandparents” or engage their perspectives about enduring or disappearing values and traditions. A colleague recently observed:
I can take quiet pleasure in knowing that I made a difference, and my ideas did finally take root. I may be hurt to hear a young hot shot articulate the “brand new idea” that I suggested to him four months ago. It is frustrating to witness the celebration of a very successful project that I championed five years ago. And I wasn’t even invited to this celebration until the last minute! Was I that insensitive to my elders when I was their age?
Despite the insensitivity, we can emulate our colleague and “take quiet pleasure” during our Autumnal years in being grandparents to new ideas and programs. But it is not an easy transition for many men and women. In some instances, as coaches, we may need to encourage and support these Generativity leaders as they confront shifts in their organizational role. At the very least, we might support their emerging interests in reflective matters. In our study of senior Sage leaders in California, for example, we found there is a significant role to be played by community “grandparents.” (Quehl and Bergquist, 2012) These men and women of Autumn benefit the communities in which they live—and they often benefit themselves as quiet leaders who are appreciated and valued for their current contributions, rather than just being honored for past contributions and achievements.
Being Honored: Sometimes, the mid-centurion isn’t ignored. Instead, they are formally acknowledged and honored—though might soon after be put on “the back burner.”. We are given credit for being the founder of an organization, and we serve in the “George Washington” role or are identified as the new “Margaret Sanger.” At other times, we are honored for bringing the organization through a critical period by playing the role of “Abraham Lincoln” or “Martin Luther King” or “Rosa Parks.”
Alternatively, we might be honored for leading the organization to its current level of functioning—as when we honor our recent presidents. In each case, we are honored more for our past work than for what we are now doing or potentially could do in the future. If we are accustomed as men and women of action to being praised for what we just did, or can do in the near future, we may find it difficult or even embarrassing to witness and accept the acknowledgment and gratitude of others for what we have accomplished in the past. We may even interpret these ceremonies as condescending efforts to get us out of the way, or as public statements that we are “over the hill.” In our role as coaches to these honored mid-centurions, we can help them take a deep breath and savor the moment of being honored. This means setting aside suspicions and embarrassment or that this moment of “bliss” can be fully enjoyed (often with members of our family being proud witnesses).
This is a timely role for a coach to play as sources of support and guidance. Our clients are best served by setting aside their fears and negative assumptions and accepting the accolades as genuine and well deserved. We are there as their coach to help set aside the psychic debris. Often, we are providing important insights as a coach regarding the ultimate purpose of the honoring. Ceremonies to honor us are meant to move us along to another role. We would be wise to acknowledge this motive in our co-workers as we become grandparents and leave the role of organizational parents. The result is that we are likely to have less direct impact on the organization and more indirect influence—an insightful coach will note when working with their mid-centurion client.
It is time for us to reflect on the lingering impact of past decisions that we made and actions we took in our organization or community. This is appropriate. We are now free to write our memoirs, or at least share our stories with grandchildren and move on in our life. It is now time to shift into new generativity roles. We can now honor other men and women and the heritage of our community (Generativity Three). We can begin serving a broader set of interests and needs by becoming engaged in civic life (Generativity Four). As a thoughtful coach will note, many options and opportunities are available. Our life is only half over, and there are other acts to play on our life stage. Most importantly, there are messages being sent to us from other rooms in our own psyche. Often as interpreted by a professional coach, these messages can help guide us to new forms of generativity.
Voices from Other Rooms
Generativity comes from within us, and it is deep caring that motives us to reach out to others. Sometimes it is an event beyond our control that triggers a new generativity in us. Ultimately, however, the outside event is aligned with something that exists within us, and the new incentives for generativity do not come from very far away. In fact, there are familiar motives with which we are already well acquainted from earlier in our life. A metaphor comes to mind (borrowing from a phrase used by Truman Capote (1994). There are voices to be heard from other rooms.
Voices to Be Heard: In our young adulthood, we made choices about what was important to us, about what was practical, and about what was suitable for a woman or man to do in life. In making these choices, we set aside certain prized activities and dreams. In our exploration of these choices, we turn once again to the insights we have gained over many years from our coaching and consulting clients. One of us recently served as a coach to Samuel. He knew as a young man that it would never be practical for him to continue playing drums in a rock and roll band. Samuel decided, instead, to become an accountant.
Another example: A woman with whom we have worked is a prominent physician. Dr. Jane, as her devoted patients now call her, loved to play basketball as a kid, but gave it up during medical school. A third coaching client, Ricardo, is now in his late Sixties. As a single man, Ricardo loved shopping each Saturday morning at the open market. He looked forward to cooking a feast for his friends on Saturday night. Then Ricardo got married and learned in the mid-1960s that cooking was what women were supposed to do. When Ricardo was a young husband, men were not supposed to like domestic chores, especially in the Hispanic culture from which he came.
Such activities and dreams as these never go away as we lived through our 30’s and 40’s. Instead, we stuck them in a back room, and they were only faintly heard. We filled the main psychic rooms in which we lived with many people, including our spouse, children, colleagues, friends, and business associates. Our living room, in particular, was rather noisy. We had very little time to hear, let alone listen to, these faint voices emanating from other rooms. If we heard them at all, the voices often appeared to be “young and foolish.” They seemed to come from another time and place in our life.
These voices, however, never went away; now in late midlife our living room is not as crowded or as noisy. We have more time to hear these voices from other rooms and are less often distracted than we were during our 20’s, 30’s, and 40’s. We can listen to our coach. Furthermore, many events are now occurring in our lives that repeatedly remind us of these faint voices from our past. Strange and unpredictable events seem to resonate with these past activities and dreams, and they often lead us to the third and fourth role of generativity: the preservation of heritage and civic engagement.
Precipitating Events and Strange Attractors: One of Samuel’s accounting clients hosted a 60s rock, roll and remembrance party several years ago. This is a lovely example of Generativity Three (Preservation of Heritage). His client had asked him if he ever played in a rock and roll band, and especially as a drummer. Dr. Jane’s practice as a physician is successful, but her own family doctor has forcefully told her to get more exercise. Jane just moved to a community with an active adult recreation program that features an “old boys” and an “old girls” basketball league. In joining and playing on one of the new “old girl” teams, Jane is suddenly involved with Generativity Four (Civic Engagement).
The wife of Ricardo, our would-be shopper and chef, just received a promotion and will have to travel in her new job. Now in her mid-Sixties, she got started late in her career and has no intention of retiring any time soon. She wants to make up for “lost time” and hesitantly asks Ricardo, who is now retired, if he wouldn’t mind doing more of the cooking for himself and each other during weekends. She makes her request only two months after a new gourmet supermarket opened at the local mall, and it features a Saturday morning farmer’s market. Ricardo now has an opportunity for making-up for his own “lost time” with Generativity One caring (through cooking) for his own family. Ricardo wants to take it further. He has met with the manager of the supermarket and hopes to provide cooking classes for men in his local community—moving him from Generativity One to Generativity Four.
It may seem that these examples are but a remarkable coincidence. However, there is a term that was fashionable several years ago that is appropriate in describing this type of coincidence. This word is Synergy. Scientists also have a name and explanation for this phenomenon: Strange Attractor. Those doing research on chaotic systems note that there are many events in nature that seem to pull in energy from outside and establish very powerful, compelling, and repetitive patterns. These chaos theorists suggest that most events occur in a random manner. One particular event, however, happens to have a slightly greater impact at a particular place and time than do other random events. As a result of this one slightly more impactful event, the other random events tend to orient around this “strange attractor” event. They become aligned with the orienting event, and a system is established.
One place in a roadway, for instance, might be slightly more indented than any other spot. Water and gravel tend to collect in this spot. The water and gravel, in turn, dig into the spot, propelled by passing cars. The spot becomes a small hole. This hole grows larger, attracting more water and gravel. Soon there is a pothole. The pothole gets filled in, but the newly applied asphalt differs in composition or weight from the old asphalt. Furthermore, there is a tiny crack between the old and new asphalt. These conditions lead to the creation of a new spot and the reemergence of the pothole–now “bigger and better” than before and more resistant to any corrective action.
This same process occurs in our own lives. Seemingly random events occur that hold no pattern. Then one event somehow touches upon old, faint voices in our back rooms that are now slightly louder or less often drowned-out by noise. As a result, we pay a little more attention to this event than we did in the past. Samuel, the “rock and roll” accountant, often had offers in the past to perform at parties and many of these offers were no doubt connected to something in which he was interested. Yet, somehow, this latest offer is particularly poignant since it triggers Samuel’s memories and his rediscovered interest in rock and roll.
Dr. Jane, the basketball playing physician, has always lived near a recreation center that sponsored basketball leagues for older adults. And she has always known, as a physician, that she should periodically leave her office to seek more exercise and recreation. Yet somehow the time is now ripe for Jane to take action. The wife of Ricardo, our would-be shopper and chef, has undoubtedly asked him to help in many other ways in the past, when her own work began to shift. Yet, this offer, somehow, to do more shopping and cooking connected with Ricardo’s recent retirement and his dormant love of shopping and cooking. It also aroused Ricardo’s vague recollection of one particular advertisement and article about a nearby Saturday market, and that motivated him to contract the manager about hosting a cooking class for men.
All of this can occur in our life without any outside guidance or support. Strange attractors simply emerge without any outside help—they are self-initiated (autotelic) and self-organizing. However, an experienced and insightful coach can often point out the emerging pattern before their client gets a clear sense of what is taking place. The voice from another room might be easier for the coach to hear because they don’t have the barriers that were constructed many years ago by their client. As in a theatrical production, the words may strike home first when spoken by an outside source (an actor) than when spoken by oneself to ones own psyche.
Crossroads: Choosing Once Again Between Generativity and Stagnation
Random events become strange attractors. They call to us and require our attention. They form an alliance with our inner voices. Suddenly other events begin to organize around this attractor and form a constellation or psychic “pothole” of activities, interests and dreams. Samuel, the accountant, plays at the Rock, Roll and Remembrance party and has a great time. He talks with the four other “aging rockers” in this make-shift group. They decide to play together every Wednesday night “just for fun” and in a manner that honors the long history of rock-and-roll (Generativity Three).
Dr. Jane joins the “old girls” basketball league, enjoys herself, and soon finds that she also enjoys playing “old girls” soccer; this motivates her to organize a new soccer league (Generativity Four). She begins to teach her granddaughter how to play soccer (Generativity One) and becomes a coach for her granddaughter’s soccer team (Generativity Two). Chef Ricardo begins cooking more often, loves it, and becomes a voracious reader of cookbooks. He hosts a cooking class, and then volunteers to teach a special class for old guys who want to help their wives (Generativity Two and Four). All three of these mid-centurions feel alive and vital. Erik Erikson would suggest that they have become “generative” and have forged new identities in their lives. They have become the women and men of Autumn.
Alternatively, these three folks and other mature men and women could have chosen to ignore or discount these voices from other rooms. Samuel, the accountant, could have politely turned down the offer to play at the Rock and Roll party. He could even have neglected to tell his colleague that he played drums as a teenager. Jane could continue to work hard as a medical professional and ignored the need to find time for exercise or her granddaughter’s soccer team. The would-be chef, Ricardo, could curse the bad fortune that pushed him into the role of homemaker for his excessively ambitious wife. He could have been envious of his wife and might have decided to get even by cooking a horrible meal or inadvertently forgetting to pick-up food at the local supermarket. In short, each of these mid-centurions could have chosen a life of stagnation rather than generativity. This is the choice that all men and women must make during the potentially Autumnal decades of life.
If mature women and men chose stagnation by not attending to these voices, the voices can become quite destructive—even demonic. These voices are part of us. We know from many years of psychological investigation that when little or no attention is given to specific aspects of our psyche, these aspects of self tend to express themselves indirectly. They make themselves known through physical and mental illness, profound depression, or self-destructive activities (such as substance abuse, self-defeating behavior, or even suicide).
Psychologists use the term “denial” in describing the defensive process of inattention. The extensive use of this primitive defense leads directly to many of the psychological maladies of our time, particularly among mature men and women. The denied voices will eventually gain our attention or be heard by the world around us. We must determine if these voices will be addressed in a constructive and generative manner or in a destructive way later in life. It is in choosing deep care rather than self-centered concern that we find sound physical and mental health. It is through the engagement of all four roles of generativity that we find our sense of purpose and reason to live a long and prosperous life as Autumnal men and women. It is through the engagement of a professional coach that we are increasingly inclined toward generativity rather than stagnation.
Being In-Sync or Out-of-Sync with Society
This choice between generativity and stagnation is not as easy as it may appear on the surface. That is why the assistance of a coach can be of value. We often chose stagnation and risk the wrath of an unacknowledged voice. If we take actions based on the voices from other rooms, then we may be likely to be condemned by our family and friends—and even condemned by our own psyche. An insightful developmental psychologist, Bernice Neugarten (1996), suggests that we often experience a developmental crisis in life when the actions we take and the decisions we make are bold and generative. These actions and decisions are often out of sync with expectations of the society in which we live because crises in development occur when we do something at a time in our life that does not square with societal rules.
Gerald is an Autumnal man whom one of us coaches. He co-owns and has served as president for nine years of an educational institution that primarily serves mature men and women preparing for a second career. Gerald’s timing was off in acquiring this institution for a half million dollars. He wasn’t really at an appropriate age for taking on this high-risk, entrepreneurial venture. He would have been better suited for this risky venture when he was 35 or 40. Gerald was 48 years old when he and his wife bought the school and assumed a major five-year debt. His wife was also in her late 40’s. A younger couple should have bought this educational enterprise. A younger man or women would be expected by society to be sufficiently energetic and visionary to make a venture like this succeed. A husband and wife who are about to enter their mid-centurion years are much too old for such a venture.
Gerald often confronted himself with many disturbing questions and statements during our coaching sessions:
“What in the world was I was doing taking on the task of leading an educational institution? My work at the institute is always exciting but also terrifying. Is something wrong with me? Was I foolish in taking this on? Was I too old? Was I kidding myself regarding my interest in and ability to take on this venture?”
The mature men and women that Gerald serves in his educational institution have no doubt often asked themselves the same kind of questions. Like the president of their training institute, these middle-aged men and women are inevitably in crisis because they have chosen to return for a degree at a much later point in life than is usually the case. They are not your typical young men and women, fresh out of high school or college. They are experienced persons who want to enrich and renew their understanding of the world, while also getting an advanced academic degree. This interest is understandable and commendable. Yet their families, friends and colleagues often do not understand why they went for further training and education: “Hasn’t he already had enough education?” “Why doesn’t she just settle down and take things a bit easier? What is she doing starting a second career this late in life?”
Moratorium vs. Foreclosure: There are certain times in our lives that society deems it appropriate for us to explore alternative careers and personal identities. Erik Erikson describes these periods as Psycho-social Moratoria. Most of us are given a moratorium during our late teens and early twenties. Young men, in particular, are given the opportunity to explore new realities through the military. Among young women, only those from the middle and upper classes have been granted a moratorium. They become college students. Women from less secure financial backgrounds have typically never experienced a moratorium. Traditionally, they usually move directly from their family of origin to marriage. These young working-class women immediately establish their own families and assume major homemaking responsibilities, as well as often working at least part time to help with the family’s precarious finances. Their exploration of alternative identities is Foreclosed.
Many other people in our society are also denied a moratorium because they may have been assigned their identity early in life. Perhaps their father and grandfather were doctors, so this young man or woman will also be a doctor. Alternatively, the young person may have spent their entire life fighting for survival as the child of an unemployed or homeless parent. This person will never experience a moratorium but, instead, probably will spend most of his life as an unemployed adult living in one of America’s slums. The exploration of alternative identities has been foreclosed for both the predestined physician and the child of poverty.
There is often a dramatic intrusion of alternative identities later in life among middle class and upper middle-class mid-centurions whose identity was foreclosed early in life and among those who never experienced a moratorium during their adolescent years. These men and women often rebel as mature adults. Their inner voices assert themselves in strong and compelling ways. We see this played out in Jack Nicholson’s film portrayal of an identity-foreclosed man in Five Easy Pieces.
Take this Life and Shove It!: Nicholson’s character rebels, having grown up in a musical family, without viable career options. He marries a woman without “culture” and takes a temporary job on an oil rig. Nicholson plays a man who faces a midlife crisis because he knows of no identity other than that of classical musician. His only option is to assume what Erikson calls the Negative Identity. The Nicholson character will randomly assume any identity as long as it is unrelated to serious music. He can be a day laborer, a logger, or even a piano player in a local dive. It only matters that he reacts against the identity assigned to him by his family and society.
In less dramatic form, we hear many stories of physicians or ministers who grew-up with a father or mother who was also a doctor or minister. During his mid-centurion years, the foreclosed physician or minister takes up a hobby or avocation that speaks to a suppressed identity. She joins a physician’s bridge club or spends every free moment sailing a boat. Like Jane, the foreclosed professional might participate in a sport, or like Samuel, join a rock-and-roll band. By contrast, a man or woman who has grown up in poverty will rebel by leaving his job (if he has one).
“Take this job and shove it” has been a recurring anthem for several decades among the foreclosed mid-centurion from the lower middle class. Or the beleaguered male at mid-life will leave his family, drink heavily and take up with a younger woman. If nothing else, he will allow himself to go a little mad as a sports fan and live vicariously off the alternative identities and successes of athletes on his favorite teams. And what about the beleaguered female? What is her option: stay with the family, raise the kids herself, and live a life of quiet despair?
Alternatively, does the mid-centurion who is faced with socio-economic challenges somehow find a way to succeed and become generative? We have yet to mention that both Ricardo and his wife came from a family background of poverty and ethnic discrimination yet have been able to work hard and establish a comfortable life for themselves. Their remarkable success has led to the decision of Ricardo’s wife to work beyond the usual retirement age. The move out of poverty has also enabled Ricardo to discover expanding roles of generativity through his renewed interest in cooking, collecting old cookbooks (Generativity Three), and hosting cooking classes (Generativity Two and Four).
The Transitional Phase: A Second Moratorium
The issue doesn’t stop here. And professional coaches should be aware of this additional point. Most mature adults find themselves in mid-life standing between two worlds: the world of active, income-earning work and the world of retirement and avocations. In some respects, our society has given us a second moratorium—a second adolescence during which we can explore alternative identities. As mid-centurions living in the United States or most other prosperous Western countries, we are allowed to explore alternative identities at the point we retire, provided we are not living in poverty or are not in ill health.
Traditionally, women living in Western civilizations did not have it so good. They were expected to remain occupied as homemakers even after their husbands retire. Their work might even increase, given that they must now “look after” their husband who is suddenly “underfoot.” Their retired husband was often quite fortunate if he came from the middle or upper-middle class. He could move in many new directions: take up hobbies, spend time at home reading or playing games, or engaging in recreational activities such as golf, tennis, or bowling.
Complicated Retirement: The world of retirement has grown a bit more complicated in recent years, and the transition between work and retirement has become more confusing for many men and women; there are several reasons. First, mid-centurions do not necessarily retire at 65. In a previous essay in this series, we identify multiple options to retirement (Quehl and Bergquist, 2023) Second, some mid-centurions want to make the transition in life and career earlier than age 65. In either case, the question is: what we do about the second moratorium and how does this potential identity exploration relate to the engagement of Generativity Three and Four roles?
Assume for a moment that we want to make a change prior to age 65 or 70. We are not ready for formal retirement, yet we want to make a change. At the other end of the decision-making spectrum, we find men and women who don’t want to or can’t retire by age 70. Even though our inner voices suggest that we shift our priorities and attend to other matters, we still have to work, perhaps even into our late Seventies. If we are in our 50’s or early 60’s, our society expects us to continue being active “breadwinners.” If we are in our late 60’s or early 70’s, we don’t have enough money saved for retirement. In either case, we face quite a dilemma. Do we have time for generative activities during our 50s, 60s or 70s? Or do we still have to be “working stiffs” who have no time for deep caring outside our immediate family?
As we noted in our previous essay (Quehl and Bergquist, 2023), we have multiple options, whether we are in our 50s and early 60s or our late 60s and early 70s. Some of us choose the most obvious of these options. We retire after planning carefully for what we will do when we are no longer working for pay. As part of the planning, we will often consider volunteer work that satisfies Generativity Three or Generativity Four motives. There is a second option. We negotiate a compromise by giving some voices our immediate attention; other voices are deferred until some point later in our life, when society says it is appropriate for us to try something new.
A third option is also available to those who have been financially successful in life or are particularly courageous. These fortunate or brave men and women alter their lifestyle so that they are doing what they really want to do. The traditional distinction drawn between work and retirement begins to break down for the men and women who choose the third option. Their work often becomes their avocation, and their hobby becomes that for which they are paid. At a conference on work and play that the two of us hosted many years ago, we invented the word “plork” to describe the full integration of work and play. Several of the men and women we coach have taken this path. They have left behind their administrative duties and settled into a life of “plork.” They begin the transition to Generativity Three and Four.
Unfortunately, for some who have chosen this third option while still in their 50’s and 60’s, there are societal pressures to move back to a “real job.” Bernice Neugarten’s observations once again come into play. We are “out-of-sync.” Many of our younger “third-option” colleagues indicate during coaching sessions that they feel guilty about not going to work each day while moving toward Generativity Three or Four projects. They provide volunteer services in their community that isn’t “really work.” One of our coaching clients, Brad, spends much of his time serving as a docent and board member at a local museum. He has been wrestling with several fundamental doubts during our coaching sessions. He recently commented:
“I always seem to be the only man at the museum who is still able to work. All the other docents and board members are much older than I am, and most are women. Why am I hanging around the museum instead of being a responsible breadwinner? I know that this is irrational. I still work very hard, but it is now about things that I care about at the museum. And I really enjoy my work for the first time in many years. I have more control over my time. I can work at home, doing museum-related research on my computer. I may become involved in a wide variety of other interesting civic projects. However, something is wrong. I seem to be out of sync with the people around me. It’s the wrong time or the wrong place.”
Brad’s life decisions don’t match societal expectations, and this is very disconcerting for him. So, what should we as potential men and women of Autumn do about these voices? Which option should the man or women in their 50’s or 60’s chose? If they respond right away, then these mid-centurions must confront a mismatch with societal expectations. If they defer their response until the appropriate age to retire (65 or 70), then these voices might become impatient. It is appropriate at this point to invite in a professional coach. They can not only “hold one’s hand” while making a difficult (and courageous) decision—they can also provide knowledgeable assurance that this “out-of-sync” option is perfectly OK and offers a pathway to sustained generativity.
Similarly, the men and women who are already 65 or 70 years old and wish to keep working find a mismatch. These challenged mid-centurions might end-up being destructive to themselves and the people they love without the assistance of a coach. If they compromise and respond to only some of their voices, they may pick the wrong ones and incur the disapproval of society and the vengeance of other unacknowledged voices. What should these men and women do? It is no wonder that we often hope these silly or threatening voices will go away—unless we have a coach to assure us that our voices provide wisdom and that an important pathway to generativity might be opening up.
Filled with Denial: We have a fourth option as mid-centurion men and women. We can fill our living rooms with activity again and hope that this activity will drown-out the voices. As men and women in our 50’s and early 60’s we can go back to work, get a “real job” once again, and forget about our mid-life “identity crisis.” As mid-centurions in our late 60’s and early 70’s, we can “act our age” and settle into traditional retirement. Sadly, the activities in which we engage at either juncture in our life never seem to be very gratifying. Going back to a “real job” leaves us feeling compromised and trapped. Going on to retirement, when we really want to keep working, leaves us feeling worthless and bored. The result is that societal expectations lead us down a path of stagnation.
Many of us choose this fourth option, at least on a temporary basis. We opt for denial. We discount the meaning inherent in the seemingly random events that arouse the voices from other rooms. It would be a bit odd to say that the offer Samuel received to play in a rock and roll band, or Jane’s opportunity to play in a basketball league, comes from some source of inner guidance. The request by Ricardo’s wife that he do more cooking wasn’t somehow “meant to be.” It sounds a bit spooky for most of us who are not true believers. To suggest that an event has inherent meaning and is somehow intended as a message to tell us something or guide us back to our earlier interests and dreams seems to be too much like the mumbo-jumbo of “new age” spirituality.
That is why we are drawn to strange attractors which are to be found everywhere. There is good reason to believe that this attraction process operates in the lives of mid-centurion men and women who are on the edge of Generativity Three and Four. Events have meaning in their life not so much because of some greater power in life, though this could be the case. Rather, events have meaning and power because certain small events tend at a particular place and time to link with and trigger other events. They trigger memories, interests, dreams and eventually actions.
These strange attractor events form a pattern that is compelling and can serve as a guide for our continuing generativity and the re-invention of our life. A rabbi we know talks about the “assemblage” of small, meaningful events and decisions in our lives. Taken together these events and decisions comprise a person’s “spiritual life” (Bergquist, 2023e) He suggests that spirituality is not some big, powerful, isolated event. Rather it is constituted from a whole cluster of small events. What happens when we ignore these strange attractors? What happens when we choose massive denial and make the wrong decision? We face stagnation—a loss of spirit and an absence of soul. We withdraw and become “mean spirited,” turning our spirit into a negative force.
Becoming Stagnant: The stagnant mid-centurion resents others of his or her age when they remain engaged in the world. The mid-centurion resorts to sarcasm and resistance, having abandoned hope and ambition. He or she often resents the young men and women who are newly engaged in the world. Like Scrooge, the stagnant person focuses on one thing at the expense of all other aspects of life. For Scrooge that one thing was money. The stagnant obsession for Scrooge-like mid-centurions in real life may concern power, position, traditional family values, or an old political cause. They strive toward goals such as the acquisition of wealth or power that no longer really have meaning for them.
How do we know that we have chosen or fallen into stagnation? When we are stagnant, we act out of habit. We reach a point in our life when activities take on their own meaning and impetus that were previously means to other ends (such as the approval of our father, the attraction of women or men, the achievement of security). The original purpose is lost, and we invest no new purpose in the activity. Psychologists describe this condition as “secondary autonomy.” (Hartman, 1958) It is also the foundation for psychic stagnation. We chose or fall into stagnation when we desperately try to blunt our pain. We act out of an obsessive need to somehow heal the wound and eliminate the anxiety associated with midlife depression. We live in a society that no longer can find any meaning in the experience of pain. This is largely because there is now the possibility of avoiding or eliminating pain through medical advancement and, in particular, “pain-killers”. Alternatively, we discover and embrace our own pain-killing cocktail—be it alcohol, dope, or high-risk sports.
We try to escape from that which is painful rather than finding meaning in this pain. We race away from our inner voices from other rooms and from the generative voices because we hope to avoid pain. Unfortunately, we live in a society that not only approves of this avoidance, but also offers many antidotes to pain, both legal and illegal. We live in a society that is filled with middle-aged men and women who would rather escape pain than find any meaning or purpose in the pain or, for that matter, find meaning in any other aspects of life. Just as pain and generativity are companions, so too are stagnation and the avoidance of pain.
Discerning the True Voices
There is a fifth option that might be discovered with the assistance of a professional coach. We can attend to our voices from other rooms and seek out new forms of generativity. But this requires discipline—and a bit of help from a coach. In attending to these voices, we have to make important decisions about what we do with the messages that we receive. In attending to these voices, we do not necessarily have to do what the voices suggest. We have to listen, but don’t have to take the advice.
Discernment: During the Middle Ages, mystics attended carefully to the voices they received through contemplation and various mystical experiences. However, they realized that some of these messages might come from somewhere other than a divine source. The voices may come from their own personal ego, from other people, or even from the devil. As a result, these mystics devised methods for contemplation, transcendent experience, and determining which messages come from God and which come from elsewhere. They called this process “discernment.”
As mid-centurions, we have to discern the good from the bad voices. We must sort out the truth about our psyche from all of the false claims that swirl around us. This where a professional coach can be most helpful. We can always choose instead to ignore the voices. This is our first choice, which we described in some detail in the previous section of this essay. Our second choice is to listen to the wrong voices. We are lured away by power, money, security, prestige, status, pride—all of the temptations with which we are all acquainted.
Our third choice is to listen to the right voices. To be successful in making this third choice, we have to determine which of the voices seem to be responsive to our changing needs, values and life purposes. We must determine which voices seem to keep us stagnant and stuck where we are right now, which distract us from new-found pathways, and which turn us toward pathways that are destructive to ourselves and the people we love. A coach can ask important questions regarding the ultimate intent and direction offered by each voice. The coach can link voices to existing interests and purposes in their client’s life.
Coaching Questions: The distinctions are not easily drawn. This is why a coach can be of great value at this point. As mid-centurions, we usually know very little about the process of discernment. We are accustomed to living in the external world, making decisions based on data that exist out there in reality: “How much money do we need to pay our bills this month?” “Which of these technical training programs is likely to prepare our daughter best for her future life?” “Where do we want to plant that new tree?” The process of discernment requires that we attend to internal data and make decisions based not on rational argument and analysis but on deep searching for inner truths related to our hopes and fears. Perhaps we should start using the term Discernment Coach when considering those who work with the voices of mid-centurions.
The Discernment Coach must ask difficult questions about their client’s inner life and about possible roles of generativity:
- Which emotions are elicited when you think about enacting this long-deferred dream?
- Of what are you most afraid when considering a positive response to this invitation from inner voices?
- What is old, safe and stagnant in your current life?
- What is new, risky and generative in your emerging life?”
With the assistance of a coach, every man and woman must find their own way to discern what is right and wrong for them. The first and most important step is to listen to the voices.
Without this first step, there is no need to discern anything, for we have chosen to remain deaf and blind to our inner world. We have chosen stagnation over generativity. We have lost the extraordinary opportunity for Generativity Three and Four—the roles to which we turn in the next essays in this series. It is in these essays that we listen to the words of Sage leaders who offered their own insights. We also learn from the life narratives of our four Featured Players as they engage the challenging process of discernment and moving to the new roles of Generativity Three and Four.
The Heritage Drive: Preserving Societal Values
Generativity is about caring for that which should be cared for, and this includes the ongoing presence of critical societal values. It is about caring not just for a specific person, organization, or community. It is about caring for an idea, for the history of action and achievement, for a particular artifact (e.g., painting, building) that represents a lingering value or exemplifies an ideal of beauty. In Generativity Three we are guardians of something that already exists – or existed in the past. McAdams (McAdams, Hart, and Maruna, 1998, p. 15) hints at this third generativity role when identifying the way in which cultural demands serve as an external motivating source of generativity.
Specifically, like us, McAdams and his colleagues suggest that the extension of time places an important role in generativity: “In its linking of generations, generativity links past and future time.” Like Kotre (1984), McAdams believes that generativity is about our desire to outlive our self. It is about stretching time beyond the boundaries of our own lives. We specifically suggest that this extension of time often takes place by honoring our heritage and preserving that which we most value and about which we most care.
Guardianship: We guard that which is still valuable. We care for that which may no longer exist but should be renewed, re-appreciated, and re-engaged. Generativity Three is about visiting the graves and placing flowers near the headstones of our great grandparents. It is about scrapbooks, telling tales around a campfire, and Veterans’ Day parades. It is about the birthdays of Martin Luther King, Abraham Lincoln, and George Washington. It is about Jackie Robinson, and why many of us still root for his baseball team, the Dodgers.
One source of inspiration for us came from a version of Generativity Three that was proposed by George Vaillant (2012) in his important book about the unprecedented longitudinal study begun in 1938 of 200 Harvard graduates: the Grant Study of Adult Development. As with Erikson, Vaillant sets aside our first role of generativity (parenting and conducting projects):
“Generativity, of course, may . . . include community building (our fourth role) and other forms of leadership, but not, in my mind, such pursuits as raising children, painting pictures, and growing crops.” [Vaillant, 2012, p. 164]
Vaillant also associates himself with most of what Erikson has to say about our second role of generativity:
“Generative people care for others in a direct, forward-oriented relationship—mentor to mentee, teacher to student. They are caregivers.” [Vaillant, 2012, p. 165]
However, Vaillant (2012 p. 165) is critical of Erikson’s Generativity Two because he believes his analysis is too restrictive in setting the stage for Generativity Three: “Erikson sometimes fails to distinguish between the care that characterizes Generativity and the wisdom that characterizes Guardianship and which he ascribed, I believe incorrectly, to Integrity (one of Erikson’s other stages of life.)”
The Grant Study: It is here where Vaillant offers significant insights into the stage of generativity and contributes to how we define our third role of generativity. Building on results from the Grant Study, George Vaillant, (2012, p. 165) writes about the Harvard men he was studying during the latter third of their lives who became generative and provided deep care by serving as Guardians of traditions, heritage and culture: “Guardians are caretakers. They take responsibility for the cultural values and riches from which we all benefit, offering their concern beyond specific individuals to their culture as a whole; they engage a social radius that extends beyond their immediate personal surround.”
Much as Generativity Two is an expansion of care beyond our immediate family and our special projects, Generativity Three moves us past deep care about specific people to deep care about an entire set of values and an abiding and important history. In the case of Generativity Three, the expansion has to do with broadening concerns for a much larger group of people (an entire society or culture) and also going backward in time to honor the past. (We will see yet another shift as we move to Generativity Four, an expansion in space – a direct and tangible expansion of care with regard to an entire community.)
In the case of both Generativity Three and Generativity Four it is a matter, as Vaillant indicates, of both care and wisdom:
“Generativity has to do with the people one chooses to take care of: Guardianship entails a dispassionate and less personal world view. It is possible to imagine care without wisdom, but not wisdom without care—and indeed, in adult development, the capacity to care does precede wisdom. Wisdom requires not only concern, but also the appreciation of irony and ambiguity, and enough perspective and dispassion not to take side.” [Vaillant, 2012, p. 165]
We will have more to say about the interplay between wisdom and care as we turn to insights offered by our own mid and late-centurion men and women of the Nevada County, CA, Sage Leadership Project as they reflect on their third and fourth role of generativity. At this point, we merely want to express our view that wisdom is to be found in early adult years as we learn how to become caring parents to our children and to our special projects. A considerable amount of wisdom is also needed to be an effective Generativity Two mentor, motivator, mobilizer, monitor, and mediator. We wish to honor George Vaillant’s work and build on it by moving forward with our own exploration of the third role of generativity. In short, we wish to emulate the very notion of Generativity Three as a bridge between that which has already existed and that which moves forward into the future.
Extending Generative Legacy in Time
As we shift from a focus on Generativity Two (which is about leaving a tangible legacy within an organizational setting) to Generativity Three (which is about ensuring that legacy is sustained in heritage), we are moving from extending space to extending time. As professional coaches, we can assist our client with this extension by offering probing questions regarding our client’s shifting prospectives and expanding values. We can encourage our client to trace out the implications of these shifts and expansions—rather than being overwhelmed by these implications. We can reassure our client that this shift and expansion is appropriate as a common feature of ongoing adult development. A pathway to continuing generativity has appeared—a pathway that leads beyond Generativity Two to Generativity Three
Given this important role to be played by a professional coach when their client considers this new pathway, we focus in this essay on the nature and range of Generativity Three. We consider the motivations that drive the push toward guardianship. While we will identify many different motivating drives in exploring the varieties of Generativity Three engagements, we focus on five that are central and reoccuring: (1) nobles oblige, (2) living in a tangible culture, (3 safeguarding specific traditional values, (4) “paying it forward” and (5) outliving ourselves. A professional coach who is working with mid-centurions should be conversant with these five drives.
Nobles Oblige: In many traditional societies—especially those with a strong and sustained class structure—the primary obligation of those at the top of the societal hierarchy is to preserve existing values, aspirations, and assumptions within society. This is the noble obligation (nobles oblige). One of our Emerging Sage leaders addresses this obligation directly:
“It’s an old-fashioned notion, but I have a healthy dose of noblesse oblige. It was made abundantly clear to me from the beginning that I was very lucky, and with that came some burdens. My family, schools, and community reinforced that I have been blessed and need to pass those gifts on. When I was a little girl, every year at Christmas my school would adopt a family. We would raise money, pick out presents, and give them a Christmas they would not have been able to afford. Another source of motivation and inspiration is my religion. Social justice is a basic tenant of Unitarian Universalism. There’s a hymn that we sing, ‘We’ll build a world…’ It’s about making a difference, about making this world we live in the best that it can be.”
In traditional societies this function is often served by religious institutions, although preservation and reinforcement also may be in the hands of those who enforce the law (including the judicial system), by those who defend the society from external intrusion (the military), and even by outside influencers (those who monitor the media in highly repressive societies). In each of these societal roles we find Generativity Three, the preservation of that which currently exists.
The Tangible Culture: both of us have been involved for many years as leaders, consultants, and coaches to various for-profit, not-for-profit, and government organizations. In each we have discovered various subculture that often operate in opposition to one another (Bergquist, 1993, Bergquist, Guest and Rooney, 2002; Bergquist and Brock, 2008: Bergquist and Pawlak, 2008). In many instances, an old subculture has re-arisen or been resurrected in response to the emergence of a powerful new subculture. The past twenty years have repeatedly demonstrated the introduction of subcultures associated with new digital communication devices, the globalization of the world’s economy, and the many ways in which ancient religious and political ideologies have been challenged.
These new subcultures threaten existing norms, values and ways of operating in contemporary societies. And, they have led to the emergence of powerful counter cultures that often emphasize not just traditions but also tangibility. Just as the digital era has inaugurated a virtual subculture that has made the world flat, so a powerful reaction against this virtual subculture has led to the emergence of a tangible subculture that emphasizes place, history, tradition, and fundamental values.
The noted sociologist and social theorist, Talcott Parsons (1970), emphasized the importance of this subculture many years ago when he used a complex term, latent pattern maintenance, to describe the critical task to be performed in any viable social system that maintains often unacknowledged but highly influential patterns. These latent patterns are maintained through ceremony, preservation, honoring, and other Generativity Three acts that we describe later in this essay.
We conclude that this critical societal function serves as a strong motivator for many Generativity Three actors. Much as the patterns that Generativity Three is seeking to maintain, the motivations behind these acts are often unknown to the generative actor and to the people with whom this actor engages. Somehow it just seems to be the “right thing to do” and is rarely guided by a reading of Parson’s dense and highly theoretical description of latent pattern maintenance. As the songwriter Irving Berlin would say, “It just comes naturally.” The natural birth of generativity three, of course, can be aided by the midwifery offered by a professional coach.
Safeguarding a Tradition: Safeguarding a tradition seems to be at the heart of what George Vaillant means when writing about “guardianship,” although we suspect that he did not intend to limit himself to this often-reactionary motivation. While the safeguarding function can be nothing more than hesitancy to accept change and a reaction against anything new, it also can be founded in a strong commitment to keeping what is good in a society. This motive is prevalent in one of eight forms of contemporary Generativity Three (preservation of values) that we will describe later in this essay.
In essence, a tradition is safeguarded in one of five ways. First, it can be preserved by ensuring that nothing changes in the system; we set up a fortress, buttress it, and make certain nothing will “pollute” or “water-down” the tradition; we see this form of safeguarding in the policies of many countries that place severe restrictions on immigration. We also find in the constant monitoring of theological and ideological conformity by some religious sects and political groups.
Strict enforcement often leads to the splintering of these groups over minor differences of opinion. Unfortunately, this form of preservation often results in not just splintering, but ultimately the death of the system itself. Theorists tell us that systems which are closed and have very heavy boundaries cannot survive; there must be openness and permeable boundaries if a system is to remain viable. Diverse input (ideas, products, sources of energy) must be available to the system, especially if it is to remain creatively adaptive (Stacey, 1996; Page, 2011)
A second strategy for safeguarding a tradition is found in the process of discernment: which elements of the tradition should be preserved? Which should be discarded? This process is quite challenging. As behavioral economists (Kahneman, 2011; Ariely, 2008) have repeated shown, we tend to hold on to what we already have. The joy we anticipate from successfully doing something new is much less motivating than the sorrow we anticipate from losing something we already possess. Even more painful is the regret we anticipate after having given away or lost something that once was of great value to us.
When describing the processes involved in personal life transitions, Bill Bridges (1980,2001) suggests that we move through a deep, troubling “neutral zone.” He describes a state of being that closely resembles being in limbo, an intermediate zone between life and death. This is the zone of judgement and spiritual challenge that can be found in many religions. We often need abundant support and some Generativity Two mentoring and motivating to engage in sorting-out that which is to be saved and that which is to be discarded.
There is a third strategy, one that enables us to have our cake, and eat it too, with regard to Generative Safeguarding. We can celebrate a tradition, but not embrace it too tightly. The Mardi Gras festivals that are held throughout the world represent old and revered traditions that are not engaged during most of the year—and are often not taken too seriously even when enacted. There are many such festivals, fairs and carnivals that come to town once a year. Matthew Miles (1964) has written about temporary systems that allow us to engage elements of ourselves that are not usually part of our daily routine and persona. We honor the tradition without getting too “uptight” in terms of engaging it every day of our life.
A fourth strategy stands in stark contrast to the third. We take some traditions quite seriously and wrap them around our daily living, even though we live in a modern and nontraditional society. Observant Orthodox Jewish and Muslim colleagues find ways to engage their elaborate traditions while also living and working in a contemporary, secular society. The challenge for these remarkable men and women is great, especially in a world that is becoming increasingly suspicious of those who dress differently, practice restricted diets, and choose to allocate time each day to religious devotions.
In somewhat less dramatic fashion, we find similar reliance on specific patterns and mini-rituals in our daily lives—even though we are not dedicated to a specific religious tradition. It might be pausing at the end of the day to step out on our deck to witness (and celebrate) the sunset—or engage in a similar observance when the sun is rising in the early morning. We might, instead, gather our family together every Sunday evening for dinner and sharing happenings from the previous week: “what is the best thing and most surprising thing that happened during the week?” Rather than taking these mini-rituals for granted, we can reflect (with the assistance of our professional coach) on the meaning for us of these repetitive acts. What values are being conveyed and preserved? Has this ritual changes at all over the years—and what do these changes suggest about our perspectives and life values?
The fifth and probably most impactful strategy for many people is to set aside space where the tradition can be fully honored. For example, certain islands in Hawaii are reserved for safeguarding traditional Hawaiian culture. National parks, land trusts and game preserves have boundaries and are protected. Also, theme parks are established to emulate and look after old traditions. All these safeguards can be identified by a single word, which is itself wrapped in tradition: Sanctuary. We need sanctuaries in our lives, both because they can be re-creating and because they are often sources of new learning or the remembrance and enforcement of old learning that has been forgotten or ignored. We see the role of sanctuary being played out in many of the Generativity Three acts that we will identify in this essay. Sanctuaries are temporary systems. They are about the sacred and about that which we wish most to safeguard. Sanctuary is a place of deep caring.
Paying It Forward: The fourth motive is one that will be emphasized throughout this essay and that a professional coach might emphasize with their client. It is a motive that bridges the past and future. We preserve in order to pass forward a heritage, a story or a plot of land. The phrase “paying it forward” is now in vogue, in part because of the movie with the same title. It is a phrase that is directly aligned with this motive. For many years (since 1964), one of the best-known examples of paying it forward is SCORE, the service organization that provides free mentorship, consultation, workshops, and publications to small business entrepreneurs.
As a resource partner with the United States Small Business Administration, SCORE tends to attract volunteers with extensive experience in running or consulting with businesses. Retired SCORE mentors have served more than 8.5 million clients. What has motivated more than 11,000 volunteers to assist SCORE clients? There is considerable evidence from SCORE volunteers that paying forward can play a central role as a principal motivation. SCORE volunteers have often been successful in their own career and have frequently been guided, inspired, and assisted by other people along the way; they now want to show their gratitude in a tangible manner by providing the same kind of support to others who are just starting their own career or business.
We find a similar incentive operating among people we interviewed for the Sage Leadership Project (Quehl and Bergquist, 2012). Sages often note that they are serving others and wish to preserve their heritage, community, or environment—in large part because of the generative work done by those who came before them and “paved the way” (via Generativity Two), or by simply demonstrating what it means to be a guardian of heritage, community, or environment. Gratitude, in other words, is expressed by many of our Sage leaders not with a “thank you letter” but with action that exemplifies and builds on work done earlier. We not only want to “outlive ourselves” through Generativity Three; we also wish to help a previous generation outlive themselves by sustaining their actions, outcomes, and legacy.
There is a second way in which we pay it forward. It is through a “regression” in the nature of work we do. Many of our Sage leaders have been in executive positions in corporations or government agencies. They are grateful for the status, influence and economic security afforded by their former position. In gratitude, they now wish to do something of a humbler nature. Emulating Greenleaf’s notion of “servant leader,” (Greenleaf, 1970) they want to adopt rescue dogs rather than rescue a failing division of their corporation.
They would rather clean-up the banks of a river than try to pass legislation that prevents the building of a dam on the river. They want to act in a small but tangible manner, accessing one of the other motives we have identified. As Pete Seeger noted in his work in preserving the Hudson River, it is often smart to “think globally, but act locally.” We pay back by paying forward in an immediate and specific manner. We care deeply by caring intensively and in a sustained manner for something that stands next to us. To borrow from a phrase used by ego psychologists, we “regress in the service of a specific cause.”
Outliving Ourselves: Obviously, the primarily way many of us “outlive” ourselves is by having children; they carry our genes and hopefully our values and aspirations. At the heart of Generativity One is a belief that our children (or projects) will outlive us and will enable us to envision a world that endures after our own death or retirement from a project. One of the reasons the death of a child is so profound is that it shatters our belief that our self will be sustained though our children. “We bury our spouses in the ground, but bury our children in our heart,” noted a Korean parent who had lost his child and was interviewed by one of our doctoral students many years ago. It is in our heart that the belief in some form of immortality, or life of self beyond death, resides.
There are other ways we can outlive ourselves. We leave a legacy through the work we have done in an organization or in our community; these are examples of Generativity Two and Four. We can also outlive ourselves by having a building named after us or doing such important work in our community that a plaque is erected in our honor. Most of us have neither the money to donate a building nor sufficient visibility to earn a plaque in the park. But we do have the capacity to work toward the preservation of a tradition or event of which we have been a part. We may be a veteran of the Korean War and participate in each year’s Memorial Day parade, wearing a cap that brightly displays the insignia of our unit. We may attend our college alumni reunion and find it is a wonderful place to celebrate our accomplishments as young men and women. As a coach might suggest: we honor ourselves as participants in these generative events.
Guardianship and Generativity: What if none of these five motivators is present in our life? We propose that guardianship without generativity will often lead to obstruction and even to violence. It certainly will lead to a stifling stagnation. We are either stuck in the past or have dismissed the past altogether. When we are stuck in the past, anything or anyone who is new seems to be threatening. As a professional coach, we need to be particularly attuned to potentially destructive perspectives and practices among our clients if they become stuck and stagnant.
For those who get stuck, the new must be discarded, discredited, or destroyed. If we dismiss the past, then we are no longer caring for that which came before us. The past is of no value. It is “irrelevant” – that which “time has passed by.” For those who are stuck, personal history, past contributions and legacy are blocked off or discounted. Alternatively, stagnation sets in with a leaning into the future being replaced by a stifling nostalgic regarding our past life. The patterns of life are stuck. Nothing is done beyond the past. If we or our client is stagnant then heritage is not honored. The contributions of people who have impacted our lives are not acknowledged.
In this state, we live in our own personal silo and either stay in place or move forward without bringing the past with us. As a professional coach, we can be of great value to our client in helping them move out of this silo by engaging in an appreciative reflection on their heritage, on those who have assisted them, and on the way their past can help inform (but not determine or block) their future. As a coach we can also help our siloed client identify the rich display of alternative pathways to Generativity Three. We identify some of these generativity pathways n the next section of this essay.
Diverse Generativity Three Pathways
There are many Generativity Three pathways. This section of the Generativity Three essay is a bit lengthy precisely because own coaching and consulting experiences revealed s diverse set of generativity three initiatives. Furthermore, we have found through our coaching and consulting that acts of Generativity Three are least likely to be identified, classified, or fully appreciated by our clients—especially if they are leaning toward a state of stagnation. We therefore find it important to identify and briefly describe some of these acts. As a professional coach, you might want to take note.
We identify eight modes of Generativity Three, but expect there are many more:
(1) Offering ceremony (celebrations, parades and other ritual enactments).
(2) Preserving (keeping something in its original state).
(3) Displaying (allowing people to observe the preserved object).
(4) Honoring (setting aside a specific day or product in recognition of the contribution made by a specific person, group or event).
(5) Consecrating (setting aside a specific place where an important event occurred or setting aside a specific place that is related tangibly to a specific person or group).
(6) Gathering (bringing together people on regular basis who have shared a profound experience).
(7) Preserving values (providing clarity, representation, demonstration, monitoring or reinforcement of specific, cherished values).
(8) Storytelling (sharing the history of specific people, events, traditions).
In what follows we explore each of these acts of Generativity Three, deploying our Four Featured Players and the interviews we conducted with our Sage leaders. We also look at other examples of the eight forms of guardianship we have witnessed in our own lives, among our friends, and in various written accounts. We begin with ceremony as a Generativity Three act.
Ceremony
Many years ago, a social analyst, Johan Huizinga (1968), propose that a unique feature of human beings is their ability to play and make believe. He used the term, homo ludens, to identify this special capacity. While many other animals spend considerable time in playful activities, human beings play in a particularly “big way” through the invention of elaborate ceremonies, parades, and other rituals. We know how to put on a good show and have invented many devices (e.g., movies, television, sporting events) to make them even bigger and more accessible to an expanding public.
Obviously, many of the big shows are intended for nothing more than entertainment. However, at other times these shows are meant to honor a person, event, community, or entire nation. We pass on a tradition through use of ritual. We initiate a young person through a rite of passage and ceremony. In many instances, initiation processes are coupled with Generativity Two mentoring. But there is something more than just mentoring that is involved in these initiation processes; the ceremonies are tangible manifestations of the tradition into which the young person is being initiated.
Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts have abundant ceremony, honoring the young person’s achievement of specific competencies (merit badges and ranks). A variant on the scouting initiation process is also found in the YMCA and YWCA. These organizations honor young men and women at the start of their journey. Called the “Ragger” ceremony, the young man or woman receives a “rag” (kerchief) that is bestowed as a challenge for the initiate to meet an ambitious goal they have set for themselves. The kerchief is only a “rag” until the goal has been achieved. The young person then sets another goal and receives a different color kerchief that represents an even more ambitious personal aim. The Ragger ceremony, like the scouting ceremonies, uses the traditions and value system of YMCA/YWCA to encourage further development of the young person with the assistance of a Generativity Two mentor.
At a personal level both of us participated in scouting. One of us also was initiated as a young man into the Order of the Arrow (an initiation process engaged by the Boy Scouts now known as Arrow of Light), and one of us was raised by a father who proudly noted that he was “the first Eagle Scout in North Dakota” (a picture of grandpa in his 1920 scouting outfit is treasured). We were both initiated into fraternal organizations while college students. As we reflect on our personal experiences, there is clear evidence that each of us absorbed the values and priorities of these organization. We still remember the pledges, chats, and songs from these earlier life experiences. While some of these values and priorities are no longer aligned with our mature values and priorities, they do provide a foundation for our personal sense of history and continuity. These experiences motivate both of us to “pay it forward” in our Generativity Three activities.
Obviously, Homo ludens is not exclusively a phenomenon of youth initiation, nor is it exclusively an American experience. We find similar ceremonial processes in various fraternal organizations that exist outside the collegiate setting. Two of the most notable are the Masonic Order and the Knights of Columbus. Deeply emotional and richly historical ceremonies reside at the heart of these fraternal orders, with secrecy further enhancing their appeal (and perceived threat). Even more commonly, we see homo ludens displayed in the many parades that are staged throughout the world in any given year. In the United States we can watch or participate in the Rose Parade that is held and broadcast on New Year’s Day. For many years, families of the founders of Los Angeles rode horses in the parade with great equestrian splendor. At another time of year, Americans honor those who have defended our country with Veterans’ Day parades; flags are in abundance, as are marching bands, corps of Veteran associations, and specific veterans being honored (often as “marshals” of the parade).
As Americans, we are sometimes envious of rich homo ludens saturated societies and try to emulate their traditions. In many instances, this attempt to resurrect and re-enact lost traditions is done on behalf of those who come from the culture that once offered this ceremony. One of us, for instance, chaired a dissertation committee with a doctoral student who focused on the ceremony-based mentoring of young African American women in their own African tradition. A similar program has been established throughout the United States for African American males, who often don’t have a strong male parenting figure in their life. One of our Sage leaders describes his work with the local Maidu tribe in California. He assists them with their “calling back the salmon” ceremony. Sadly, it is often someone from outside a “dying” culture (an anthropologist or folklorist) who is teaching the lost ceremony to the indigenous people—the irony of “postmodern life” (Anderson, 1995)
In these examples of mature fraternal life and the abundance of ritual and ceremony in societies throughout the world, we find that Generativity Three thrives and is often coupled with one or more of the other generativity roles.
Preserving
This second kind of Generativity Three enactment is about keeping something in its original state. In many instances, the act is based on a sense of home and the wish to “stay at the same home where I grew up.” As one of our Sage leaders noted: “I grew-up here and have roots and family history here. I have a lot of passion about the future of this community.” The generative motivation for these preservationist men and women is obvious and understandable. They don’t want anything to change. Such a motive certainly can lead us to generativity. It can also lead to stagnation, with a sense that all change is bad and that one’s purpose in life is to resist all attempts to alter what now exists. The challenge for the preservationist with strong roots is to preserve the past while also preparing for the future. The Sage leader we just quoted indicated that he is just as passionate about the future of his community as he is about preserving his roots.
There are several ways this generative bridging between the past and future can occur. We see it taking place when the Generative members of a community seek first to identify the values and practices of the community that are worth fighting for and preserving, and then replace other values and practices that are outmoded. It is the process of discernment that we identified in a previous essay in this series. We needn’t keep something because it has been around for a long time; conversely, we shouldn’t discard something without identifying the alternative to replace it that is better and is fully aligned with the values and practices we want to preserve.
In recent years, we have found both types of failure in governments throughout the world. Societies hold on to the old simply because “it has always been the way we do things” or is prescribed in sacred texts. Alternatively, societies overthrow a long-standing government without any idea what to replace it with. Fidel Castro candidly noted many years ago, after defeating the Batista government in Cuba and walking into the presidential palace, that he had been concentrating on the defeat of Batista and didn’t really have any idea about what should replace that repressive regime (Sarason, 1972).
A second way in which the preservationist bridge can be built between the past and future has to do with what we have identified as the establishment of sanctuaries—areas with boundaries in which the old is preserved while the new can flourish all around it. We are not referring to the faux-sanctuaries of yesterday-ville in places like Disneyland, Disneyworld, and Knotts Berry Farm. Rather, we are pointing to places like the French Quarter in New Orleans or the inner city of Tallinn, Estonia (one of the original Hanseatic League cities in Europe). These are preserved sectors within cities that are otherwise modern. Sustained through the use of strictly enforced building codes and often highly priced real estate within the preserved sectors, these sanctuaries attract tourists and enable fortunate inhabitants to have a life that is embedded in both the old and new—what is now often called a “postmodern” way of living.
A third bridge for preservationists is built around one of the other seven enactments of Generativity Three. The preservation of an old tradition can take place through engagement of a regularly occurring ceremony that preserves long-standing traditions, such as the Friday night Jewish Shabbat. It can also be engaged through the designation of sacred places where specific rituals are preserved and enacted—such as the high mass in Catholic cathedrals. In the Islam religion, a series of daily prayers are enacted. Traditions are preserved either in a majestic Mosque or on a simple prayer rug located in the observant’s home or office. Such forms of preservation align directly with the power of the tangible culture motivation that we identified in a previous essay in this series. Specific physical and verbal actions, often occurring in specified sacred locations, enhance the sense of preservation and do honor to the nature of the traditions that lie behind them.
We have reviewed but a few of the ways in which preservation of the old and revered take place in societies throughout the world. Now we move on to a second kind of preservation: the preservation of land in its natural state. There is an abundance of land preservation initiatives in the United States, beginning with the National Parks. As noted in the informative documentary produced by Ken Burns, the United States was at the forefront in declaring that beautiful, natural settings should be preserved and made available to all citizens (unlike conditions that existed at the time in Europe where places of beauty were often owned by the wealthy aristocracy who blocked all public access). National political leaders like Teddy Roosevelt, advocate naturalists like John Muir, and wealthy business leaders like John D. Rockefeller joined together to provide the generative power and resources needed to enable much of the most beautiful land in the United States to be set aside and preserved as national parks and monuments.
Many other areas in the United States have been set aside for natural preservation. One of our favorites is Baxter State Park in Maine. The park was established by 28 donations of land, in trust, from former governor Percival Baxter between the years of 1931 and 1962 (eventually creating a park of over 200,000 acres). As governor, Baxter unsuccessfully campaigned for the direct purchase of this land by the state government. After leaving office, he bought the land himself for public use but outside formal government control. As a result, Baxter Park is not part of the Maine State Park system. Rather it is governed by the Baxter State Park Authority, consisting of the Maine Attorney General, the Maine Commissioner of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife, and Director of the Maine Forest Service.
There are now even greater initiatives occurring throughout the world to preserve land. One of the most ambitious and well-documented is the purchase and preservation of substantial land (equal in size to Yellowstone National Park) in a region of the West coast of South America known as Patagonia. A husband-and-wife team (Kristine and Douglas Tompkins), who had been very successful entrepreneurs in the United States, began purchasing this beautiful but vulnerable land before it could be altered with dams, tourism, and urban sprawl. Established as Conservacion Patagonica, this largescale preservation initiative has attracted donors and environmental activists from across the world. The sportswear that many of us wear (“Patagonia”) was the original funding source for Conservacion Patagonica. We find an extraordinarily ambitious realization of the Generativity Three spirit in the work of the Tomkins and their preservation-oriented colleagues.
We can also turn to much more focused efforts at preservation of a natural state. Many of the zoos around the world are now in the business of preserving specific species from extinction. The Atlanta Zoo, like many others, goes even further by asking the general public to assist with the preservation. For instance, a visitor to this zoo can insert a credit card in a display adjacent to the gorilla exhibit that transfers money to an organization in Africa that is fighting to preserve the existing wild habitats of the gorilla. At an even more dramatic and potentially human-preservation level is the Svalbard project in Norway, where seeds from throughout the world are being stored and preserved in sub-freezing temperatures to ensure that humankind will always have access to the plants needed for our survival.
Among our Sage leaders we find several striking examples of dedicated women and men who seek to preserve the natural beauty and heritage of the resplendent environment in which Nevada County California is located (called “the gold country” and situated in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains). One of our Emerging Sage leaders grew up in Nevada County and returned to it twenty years later to become Executive Director of the South Yuba River Citizen’s League (SYRCL). He had previously worked for a conservation corps in the San Francisco Bay Area, but found the prospect of leading a major project back home to be more enticing. In his role as Executive Director, he focused on building a coalition rather than going it alone in preserving the Yuba River region: “[I am particularly proud of] our partnership with the largest aggregate company in the United States, which is located on the river. What’s been so rewarding is the unorthodox partnerships that we have created for the common community good.”
The Executive Director is pleased with the work his organization has done and acknowledges the successful role played by another organization:
“There are at least three dozen places in the Sierras that will remain as they are today in perpetuity, because either South Yuba River Citizen’s League or the Sierra Fund made this happen. I very much enjoy knowing that my kids are going to be able to go to Purden Crossing, or Spencerville Wildlife Preserve, or Donner Pass, or Bald Mountain, or the Truckee River, or any of these other projects for which I provided leadership. This makes me very happy.”
While we can marvel at the ambition and sometimes success of the aforementioned preservation projects, we are also able to appreciate the smaller and more immediate acts of preservation. As a professional coach, we can encourage our clients to identify moments of preservation in their own life. Examples include rescuing abused dogs or “rescuing” old furniture from an antique shop and restoring it to its former beauty. We even find ambitious men and women who rescue and restore homes. While some of these acts of restoration and preservation are motivated primary by potential financial rewards (“flipping homes”), a great deal of pleasure can be derived from taking pride in the restored object. At a more modest level we find the pull toward preservation in our repainting our bedroom or paying for the restoration of a cherished dining room table where our family has convened for several generations. We live on through our preservation. We “preserve” ourselves, while preserving object. This is a theme that a professional coach might reiterate in their Generativity Three work with a client.
Displaying
A third form of Generativity Three involves not just preserving something; it is about also allowing other people to see the preserved object. The observation might be visual in nature, such as appreciating a work of art or beautiful photography. It might also be an aural form of observation. Music is usually about something that has already been created. Generativity Three is particularly in operation when the music being played comes from the distant past. Classical music comes immediately to mind, but we can also turn to popular music of the early and mid-20th Century.
One of us lives in the State of Maine, which has the oldest average population in the United States. Many of its residents “remember the good old days” when popular music was steeped in such pre-rock-and-roll genres as swing music, sweet music, and bebop. Broadway musicals were also flourishing during the 1930s, 40s and 50s, producing standards written by Irving Berlin, Cole Porter and music teams like Kern and Hammerstein, Rogers and Hart, Rogers and Hammerstein, and Lerner and Lowe.
In Maine, recordings of this kind of music are begin cared for and displayed (broadcast) by two independent FM radio stations that offer no commercials. One of these stations has been privately owned by Bob Ventner, who plays music of the 1940s through the 1960s. He has asked for donations once a year to cover the costs of operating the station but takes no salary himself (exemplifying the enactment of Generativity Three). Bob recently passed away. His family and friends are keeping the station open to honor his memory. Over the years, Ventner expanded to several other AM and FM radio stations in Maine and Massachusetts. A second station (WYAR) is a nonprofit that is run by volunteers and plays music from the first half of the Twentieth Century, the 1920’s through the 1950’s. As the announcers indicate: it is the only station to play music by Tex Beneke, Harry Belafonte, Bix Beiderbecke, Helen Morgan, Ethel Waters, and Fanny Brice.
Visual displays are particularly important for those of us who appreciate art and historical artifacts. The most obvious examples are the many museums that populate communities throughout the world. One of us recently visited an extraordinary collection of artifacts from the history of slavery in the United States. Located in New Orleans, this museum displays the slave-market manifests and shipping records for the African men, women and children who were dispatched to New Orleans from ports on the Atlantic seaboard.
The generativity of museums comes in two forms. First, there are those men and women who donated their paintings, recordings, and artifacts. While some museums are filled with objects that were confiscated rather than donated (notably the great Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg), generosity and generativity are abundantly evident in most of these guardian institutions. The Isabel Stuart Gardner Museum in Boston exemplifies this spirit of display. Gardner and her husband spent considerable time in Europe and purchased many works of art. Gardner built a museum to display and preserve this art. She also exhibited a bit of stagnation (or at least stubbornness) to compliment her spirit of display by insisting that there be no changes in the museum and its collection after her death.
One of us recently visited a museum in Dallas, Texas, that featured Spanish paintings. The donor had visited Spain in conjunction with his own prosperous business and fell in love with under-appreciated artwork of Spanish artists. He wanted these paintings to become better known, so he purchased and donated them to the art museum located at Southern Methodist University. What is the nature of his Generativity Three enactments? Like Isabel Gardner, he cared deeply about these works of art and wanted to preserve and display them so others could appreciate the innovative spirit and craftsmanship of these objects. It is when such objects are purchased for public display and preservation that Generativity Three clearly is enacted.
The second form of display-oriented generativity is to be found among those who serve as volunteer docents, museum administrators, and financial sponsors to keep these institutions in business. Some generative volunteers and often low-paid administrators decide to donate their time because they have neither the capital to make a major financial contribution nor the valuable objects to offer the museum. There is also the motivation of social networking found in the desire of generative people to gather together for a reunion or celebration; when working with a museum, they have the opportunity to affiliate with other men and women who have the same interests, passions, and dedications.
There is a third motivator for displaying that we have not previously acknowledged; it is secondary to generativity but might be of great importance in drawing people to both preservation and display. The motive is the sheer joy of being around objects of beauty or historical significance. This might, for example, be a motivator for people who seek to preserve a wilderness area because they can savor time in these majestic settings. We know that the basis for some of the criticism made about those who advocate for natural preservation is that they are primarily interested in setting aside these areas for their own enjoyment; other people don’t have the money or time to engage in a trek through the Patagonian paradise or journey into an African jungle to observe guerillas in their natural habitat. While such criticism might be justified, we believe that pure Generativity Three is at play in efforts to preserve and display.
We are reminded of an initiative in Denver, Colorado, during the 1980s when museums, the symphony orchestra, and educational institutions focused for an extended period of time on displaying the artwork, performing the music, and offering public lectures about the history and cultural context of a single societal moment. This blending of various media is typically initiated when a city or nation is celebrating its centennial or bi-centennial year. These collaborative ventures often involve not only multiple media, but also the interweaving of several different generativity three acts (parades, consecrations, gatherings of people, an abundance of storytelling). At these moments in time, one might even conceive of an entire community being caught up in acts of Generativity Three. This is clearly something more than self-indulgence.
We conclude this reflection on display by turning to the smaller, but often just as important, acts that occurs in our homes. This is one of the most accessible acts that can be identified and explored during a coaching session. Specifically, we establish home “alters” where those things we most value are displayed. Many years ago, Ruesch and Keyes (1969) wrote about such alters and noted that they are typically vertical in design with multiple shelves and display such things as pictures, favorite books, art objects, and memorability from trips taken many years ago. In this way, we see the clear connection between display-based generativity three and the values-oriented generativity three to which we turn shortly. As we can point out during a coaching session, that about which we care deeply is often that which we want other people to witness and admire. This is a form of generativity that is oriented to openness and sharing.
By contrast, we see the non-generative actions taken by some wealthy people who purchase a major work of art and then refuse to exhibit it in public; the painting or sculpture might be preserved, but it remains of “lesser value” because it can never be fully appreciated by the community. Preservation without display is a form of stagnation. We can return to our example of the Gardner Museum in Boston. A famous art theft occurred several decades ago when more than a dozen major works of art were stolen from the museum. None of these art treasurers have ever been recovered. They are probably all now being held and viewed in secret by wealthy, private collectors—exemplifying stagnation as well as criminality. A related question can be asked of a client by their coach: “what is it of value that you DON’T show other people? Why don’t you show it?” These provocative questions can yield important insights regarding what we do and do not share with other people. These insights are of particular value if framed in the interpersonal relations model called The Johari Window—which one of us has recently updated (Bergquist, 2023a).
Honoring
We are guardians in yet another way. We guard the memory of a specific person, group of people, or event by setting aside a day or product in recognition of the contribution that has been made. We have the Fourth of July, Memorial Day, Thanksgiving, and the birthdays of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. Other countries similarly honor their fallen warriors or leaders with holidays, often associated with the engagement of other acts of Generativity Three that we have identified (ceremonies, consecrations, gatherings, and storytelling). Thanks to greeting card companies, we are also frequently in the business of honoring people we love—most notably our mothers and fathers.
At a more personal level, we honor people in our lives when we celebrate their birthday, the day of their naming, their lifetime achievements, or their retirement. This a form of generativity that can valuable insights about personal values and interpersonal relations if explored with a professional coach. One of our four Featured Players, Dan, provided an award each year to a professor who had been particularly successful in working with students: “An example of Guardianship was the Professor of the Year Award that I annually presented when I was president of a large university. This annual award was presented to university professor who most exemplified the legacy and values of teaching excellence.” As Dan notes, this award is intended to honor an individual faculty member and to reinforce a legacy and set of values about teaching excellence. As in the case of all forms of Generativity Three, the ultimate goal is to preserve and guard that about which we truly care.
It is not just great teaching that is being honored by generative educational leaders like Dan. Other members of higher educational institutions often honor colleagues by preparing something called a Festschrift—a book that gives tribute to a respected person is presented during his or her lifetime. Typically, scholars or researchers who were mentored by the respected colleague collaborate on writing essays that are in some way aligned with the ideas and work of their respected colleague. There is hardly any other honor bestowed on an intellectual leader that is treasured as much as a festschrift.
We find an even grander honoring ceremony operating in Major League Baseball. One game each year is set aside to honor Jackie Robinson, the first African American to participate in major league baseball and often acknowledged as a brave door-opener for integration in many other sectors of American life. All major baseball players on this day wear Jackie Robinson’s number (42). Speeches are often delivered before or during the game, reminding us what Jackie Robinson meant for American society (blending the Generativity Three roles of honoring and storytelling).
Moments of honoring that are unexpected may have an even greater impact than those anticipated. We are reminded of This is Your Life, a radio (and later TV) program during which the host (Ralph Edwards) surprised a specific person with an entire program devoted to their life history and accomplishments; important people in their life came on stage to share stories about the honored person’s life. Queen for a Day was another surprise honoring program from the earlier days of radio and television. These were often very emotional and inspiring programs. They taught us about not just this individual’s life, but also how one might live an honorable and generative life.
Through these unanticipated events, we bestow honor upon someone we greatly admire and respect, often expecting nothing in return. A lovely example is to be found in Jerry Herman’s hit Broadway play Hello Dolly (an adaptation of Thornton Wilder’s Matchmaker). The often-conniving heroine, Dolly Levy, is treated to a grand honor celebration when appearing at a restaurant where she had formerly been a frequent patron with her now dead husband. It is understandable why Herman and Wilder have been honored for their contributions to Broadway, since both successfully produced wonderful plays and musicals that poignantly illuminate the American character. But why the exuberant honoring of Dolly Levi? Was she a really big tipper or did she flirt with all of the waiters? Was this just a publicity stunt to draw other people to the restaurant (“my goodness, if Dolly Levi gets all of this attention, then maybe I should come here more often. She is certainly getting great service with singing and dancing added at no cost!!!”).
The key to honoring Dolly Levi, and the key to most honoring and perhaps most Generativity Three acts, is the great joy that comes from doing the honoring. As a professional coach, we can encourage our client to do some honoring precisely because of this benefit that accrues to themselves. It is not just Dolly Levi who benefits from the generative actions. The wait staff and chefs at her favorite restaurant also take great joy in leaping around and singing on her behalf. When we honor other people, we are also at least indirectly honoring ourselves. We are showing the honored person and often many other people that we are deeply caring people. We have baked a birthday cake that is greeted with great enthusiasm by everyone at the party. We write a poem or compose a song that praises our friend or colleague. It feels good to be creative or silly on behalf of someone else. We are offering something that is tangible and appreciated.
As we noted previously, Generativity Three is often about “paying it forward.” Now is a good time to say more about this motivator. “Paying it forward” exemplifies what behavioral economists call a social exchange (Ariely, 2008; Kahneman, 2011). While a market exchange involves some form of financial transaction or bartering of service, a social exchange involves the anticipation of reciprocity. This distinction between market and social exchange is very important for a professional coach to convey when their client is exploring the generative act of honoring as well as the more general nature of interpersonal relationships in their life.
What then is the difference between social and market exchange in our daily life? The classic example takes place during a special occasion. We are invited to our sister’s home for our brother-in-law’s birthday. An elaborate dinner will be prepared by our sister, and we can anticipate a special evening filled with sincere words and funny stories. We bring a small (“hostess”) gift and a couple of bottles of wine to the party. These offerings are expected. They are based on deeply embedded social norms. This is social exchange in action.
We could instead bring nothing, since there is no formal contract indicating what we should bring and how much our offerings should cost. Unfortunately, if we brought nothing, our sister and brother-in-law would be offended. They might not say anything, but we should expect a frosty reception at the next family gathering. Or we could be practical and give our sister cash that is equivalent to the cost of a hostess gift and some wine. That would make our participation in this honorific event a market exchange rather than a social exchange.
This act would probably be even more offensive than if we brought nothing. We have violated the social exchange norm. Our sister would probably wonder what she has done wrong to deserve such an inappropriate and “ugly” offer of cash. “Does my brother think we are broke and need a hand-out?” “Can’t he even spend the time to find one lousy gift and a good bottle of wine to go with the meal? After all, I spent all this time cooking the meal that he and his wife are about to eat!”
The critical element of “paying forward” is when we offer Generativity Three by honoring another person in order to establish or preserve a social bond. We expect in the future to be similarly honored. At the very least, we feel good about doing what is appropriate about a social exchange. Generativity of all kinds is founded in social exchange.
We pay babysitters and day care centers to take care of our children; this is market exchange. We ask grandparents to take care of our children while we are going out for the evening; they receive no money, just a hug, kiss, and word of gratitude. This is Generativity One social exchange. As a professional coach, we should note that virtually all forms of Generativity One, Two and Three are founded on social rather than market exchange. And some of these generative acts are also founded on a spiritual foundation. We turn now to one of these spiritual acts: consecration.
Consecrating
We borrow the term consecration from the memorable speech delivered by Abraham Lincoln at the Gettysburg battlefield near the end of the American Civil War. Consecration involves setting aside a specific place where an important event occurred, or a place that is related tangibly to an honored person or group.
The first type of consecrated settings that comes to mind are cemeteries and battlefields. In the United States, the National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia is perhaps most noteworthy. Located across the Potomac River from Washington D.C., this cemetery provides a sacred home to men and women who have died defending the United States in both domestic and foreign wars. Arlington was the first cemetery to be established after the Civil War (1868). Those who operate Arlington often describe their job as “keepers of the history.” Over 400,000 men and women are buried at Arlington, and this consecrating act of generativity is complimented each year by a generative ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
We find in some cases a quite challenging attempt to consecrate. The site of buried seamen at Pearl Harbor, who remained entombed forever in their sunken ships, has been consecrated for many years. There was an ongoing effort to find the wreckage of a B-24 airplane lost in the Pacific during World War II. Dedicated men and women came back every year to look for the wreckage. Scuba divers have recently found the men who died in this crash as well as the wreckage of their plane.
In most instances consecration is about the designation of special places that are considered sacred. There is another form of consecration, however, that does not take place in a special place or even at a special time. This is the consecration of the mundane, the everyday. We live in a “sacred world” and have the generative opportunity to celebrate the values and blessings inherent in being alive for another day. In one of his illustrations of Generativity Three (The Matchmaker/Hello Dolly being the other), Thornton Wilder writes about this need to consecrate each day of our life in his play, Our Town. It is often only after death, Wilder suggests, that we truly appreciate the value of being alive and living with the everyday rituals of life.
Some of us set up regular, everyday rituals to reflect on this blessing. We sit out on our deck at sunset to celebrate the day that is passing. We join together at dinner time and share a quiet moment of prayer and thanksgiving for what our nurturing God has provided us. We “count our blessings” before going to bed or float off to sleep recounting the special moments of the day we have just lived. Each of these acts speaks to the spiritual nature of life for many of us. One of us has recently published a series of essays about the value of taking a spiritual orientation into our coaching work (Bergquist, 2023b; Bergquist, 2023c; Bergquist, 2023d).
Even if one’s client is not “religious” or even inclined toward a spiritual perspective, the expansion of professional coaching into the domain of spirituality (as well as personal values and aspirations) can be quite beneficial (Bergquist, 2023e). We can turn, from a more secular perspective, to the work of Martin Seligman and other psychologists who focus on the positive aspects of human life (Seligman, 1991; Seligman and Csikszentmihalyi, 2000). They believe that appreciate acts at the end of the day actually help to improve our physical and mental health. Perhaps Generativity Three (and maybe all forms of generativity) has a positive impact. In our generosity, we might be self-serving! Professional coaches should once again take note.
Gathering
Generativity Three can be expressed in yet another manner. We bring people together on a regular basis who have shared an important experience in their life. The most obvious and frequently occurring form is the family reunion and high school and college alumni reunions. We gather with our families once or several times a year to celebrate birthdays. These reunions often involve abundant food, storytelling, photo-sharing, and even honoring those who have passed away.
Similarly, alumni reunions involve a substantial amount of storytelling on such topics as past life, life histories since graduating and parting company. Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of reunion events is the motivations of the women and men who are responsible for organizing them. In the case of alumni reunions, there are often paid staff members to handle the logistics. Yet even these events require extensive volunteer efforts. Of course, family reunions are rarely handled by a paid staff. Reunions, like honoring and other form of Generativity Three, are based on social exchange, not market exchange.
Why do people put in the effort to make these gatherings take place? This an important question for a coach to possess when working with a client who is organizing (or just planning to attend) an important gathering. Is it their own need for companionship? Are these folks still living in the past and have never “grown up” or “left college”? In some instances, these are probably valid assumptions about why some people volunteer for this work. Yet, there seems to be more to it than being frozen in time, which is a kind of stagnation.
Reunions are first and foremost about tangibility. We don’t just “phone in” our reunion. We show up and participate. We meet other people in person. We share a meal. We gather to listen to speeches, stories, or music. We might even join in singing old fight songs or the favorite family tune. These are immediate, tangible engagements that often seem to be missing in our contemporary, digital world. We might also be motivated by the desire to safeguard an old tradition. Family values are reinforced through the retelling of an old family story, such as the migration of our great grandparents from some foreign land. Alumni reunions often enable and encourage us to remember the values we embraced as young men and women. We are not just graduates of a specific college or university, nor are we just members of a specific family. We are guardians of the values associated with this educational institution and family.
In many of the old European communities, each family had its own shield which displayed symbols or words declaring its values and aspirations. The shields were often hung in the church that families attended every Sunday. Family members would sit in a pew that was located near the shield. Thus, the Sunday service wasn’t just about the values being preached from the pulpit. It was also a reassertion of the unique values associated with the family’s history and heritage. Family reunions of the 21st Century may serve a similar function. What is the equivalent of a shield for contemporary families? Or could members of a 21st Century family actually draw their own family shield. This an exercise that we have facilitated as consultants and coaches to families and family businesses.
There are other kinds of gatherings that need little explanation or justification. They involve the reunion of soldiers and other guardians of the country’s security during periods of great stress and challenge. One of our colleagues, Art Sandstrom, lived for many years in northern Alaska, where it is totally dark or totally light many months of the year. Members of his particular community served in the United States armed forces and were in charge of the Arctic line of defense and communication during the 1950s-1960s. The veterans of this challenging assignment (men called WAMCATS) still get together each year to share stories and reaffirm their values. The WAMCATS are bringing their children and grandchildren to keep the tradition going. The meetings are even more important now because some members of WAMCATS are dying each year.
Like the survivors of Pearl Harbor, there is remembrance of difficult times—though the WAMCATS were not victims of actions taken by other people but were instead the initiators, the problem-solvers, the winners. Typically, men like Art Sandstrom who organize the WAMCATS each year are not brash or in need of massive ego-stroking. Rather, they are often quiet, dedicated, and thoughtful about the values and history that emerged from the frozen communication centers in Alaska. They don’t want these values or this history to be lost or discounted. They are generative in their actions.
There are other men and women who shared experiences that might not be as traumatic or as important historically as the defense of their country, but these Generativity Three guardians reaffirm their history and values through annual gatherings. We find this spirit of generative gathering beautifully illustrated in the novel, play and movie, Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood. Life commitments and aspirations are renewed in this story of deep female companionship.
One of us has participated in a “repotting” group that is composed of men who were going through their own life transitions several decades ago. Now in their late 70s and early 80s, members of this group still gathers together about twice a year for updates and the sheer joy of re-acquaintance. One of our friends, Lee Johnson, exemplifies this spirit in his own life as the co-founder of a fraternity during his college years. Lee and his co-founders still get together every year (35-40 years later) to honor their legacy and the values embedded in their original decision as college students to create their own unique community of aspirations and moral code. As is the case with many other Generativity Three gatherings, there is a whole lot of storytelling and values-affirmation. It is to these final two types of Generativity Three acts that we now turn.
Valuing
Generativity Three can be enacted in a seventh way by providing clarity, representation, demonstration, monitoring or reinforcement of cherished values. Frequently, values are not preserved because they are unknown or misunderstood, and as a result are not carefully monitored or reinforced. One of us worked many years ago as a consultant and coach with the Bank of America. At the time, B of A was initiating an organization-wide values clarification process. The history of Bank of America is filled with memorable events that represented a strong commitment to community service.
The story begins with Giannini’s establishing the bank (then called The Bank of Italy) on two barrels and a board at the end of Market Street in San Francisco following the 1906 Earthquake. Existing banks were not lending money to Italian American small businesses, so Giannini decided to help these business owners himself. Similar representations of community service values—though on a much larger scale— were seen in the bank’s commitments to finance farming in the Central Valley of California after World War II.
The Bank of America seemed to have lost its way during the second half of the 20th Century. Leaders of the bank wanted to return to the earlier values and felt it was important to repeat this history through storytelling (the eighth act of Generativity) and clarifying and reinforcing the values embedded in this history. We see in this one example the way in which Generativity Three can be engaged by an entire organization, even if the generative motive was interwoven with less generous motives about reforming bank internal business practices.
The Bank of America was responding at that time in large part to the threat of East Coast banks moving into the California market. This values-oriented project never seemed to get much traction in the Bank of America, though the outcomes of this values-based project were helpful in our one-on-one coaching engagments – as executives in B of A explored their own reasons for working in this organization. This project illustrates the way in which Generativity Three can be engaged through the use of consulting and coaching processes that lead to the clarification of values inherent in personal, and organizational histories.
One of our four Featured Players, Dale, describes a similar act of Generativity Three when faced with the challenge of preserving organizational values. He offers a much more successful example than the Bank of America:
“I am struck by one thing that happened to me late in my work career that made a significant difference for my company. I was asked to head an office of business conduct and ethics by the president and chairman of the company. That came about because some senior employees did some bad stuff, and the company was really in trouble in an area that was significant. This prompted the chairman to create the office, and he asked me to head it. I had no idea how to proceed. I looked across the country to determine whether there were any models and found a few that were just starting. This was in 1990-91. I had conversations with some company executives to find out how to get started.”
Dale speaks about moving beyond concern for value-misalignment to concrete generative actions:
“I then met with a law professor. We struck up a friendship, and out of that I created a management program and system for my company on how to conduct ethics training. We put about 800 executives through a four-day experiential workshop. I also created a safety net for myself and whistleblowers that resulted from some work that I did with professors at Harvard and Bentley College. Whistle blowers usually got fired, so the eight of us created national standards to protect them.
I considered the ethics office as my “last best job,” because what if I found that the chairman was cooking the books? Enron would later be a good example of that. The safety net I created said that I would be responsible for reporting the corporation’s state of ethics to the Audit Committee of the Board of Directors without the presence of the chairman. This became part of the responsibilities of the job, and the chairman endorsed the idea. I was responsible for giving a written and oral report to the Audit Committee. Then, the report was given to the full board and the chairman and president. As it relates to honoring and sustaining traditions, this example is something that I initiated. I believe the processes and standards lasted well after my retirement from the company.”
In Dale’s narrative, we see not the historical orientation of the Bank of America initiative nor the intentional introduction of a values proposition but, rather, the confrontation of ongoing ethics violations that seemed to bring the fundamental values of Dale’s organization in clear relief. His generative actions and those of his colleagues apparently led to some sustained changes that brought his organization more in alignment with its best traditions. It is this type of immediate response to a critical moment in the life of an organization or community that might best illustrate the power of effective Generativity Three leadership.
There is yet another way in which Generativity Three is enacted through the preservation of values. We see it in the commitment of individuals and organizations to ensure the quality of work being done in specific occupations and professions. In some instances, the preservation takes place through the coaching and mentoring of people entering a given field. In other instances, it is a matter of montoring. Men and women in a specific trade or profession devote considerable time and energy to serving on licensing boards and helping to prepare tests, review applications, or interview prospective members of the guild or profession.
In other instances, we witness the stewardship of a specific discipline or field among those people who help to establish or maintain a specific guild or professional association. Both of us were involved many years ago in helping to establish a new field in American higher education called “faculty development.” We were involved in successfully preparing grant proposals to fund early pilot projects in this field, as well as helping to establish a professional association and journal that focused on faculty development.
While both of us were young professionals at the time, and thus were focusing primarily on Generativity One motivations (raising a family and finding gratification in successfully starting new projects), there was already in the back of the stage this enactment of Generativity Three. Our actions were directed in particular toward the preservation of values associated with the nascent field of faculty development. As the two of us enter the later years of our lives, Generativity Three and Generativity Four are much more likely to be enacted center stage.
Finally, we find that values preservation often takes place through the setting of informal and formal boundaries. Space and time are set aside for the gathering of people who share common values. Robert Bellah and his colleagues wrote about American culture and identified life-style enclaves as a distinctive and prominent feature of the societal landscape during the late 20th Century (Bellah, and others, 1985). Bellah observed that many specialized communities were being formed in the United States based on shared values and interests. These enclaves might involve geographic isolation, such as the creation of retirement communities and urban centers for the 20-something cohort. They might also involve the temporary creation of settings, what we described above as the enactment of Generativity Three gatherings. A life-style enclave is formed temporarily.
A group of people come together every weekend to convoy their Corvettes or to compare their collection of Star Wars memorabilia. Devotees expend considerable time and money to meet with fellow “fanatics/fans” at horse shows or the local baseball stadium. Members of these life-style enclaves are preserving a particular set of values by associating with others who share the same values, by recruiting others to their enclave, and by extolling the virtues of life in their enclave when meeting with “outsiders.” While these enclaves can be sources of exclusion and polarization, they can also be homes of critical preservation about important traditions. They seek to preserve hard-earned virtues in a society that often seems to have lost its roots and its way in a complex, turbulent, and unpredictable world.
Storytelling
Ultimately, all of Generativity Three may have something to do with sharing a narrative. This can be done with words, with ceremony, or with acts of gratitude. There are many ways that this eighth act of generativity can be engaged. Certainly, the verbal act of storytelling is one of the oldest and most widely engaged forms of Generativity Three. Through storytelling we share the history of specific people and events. Through the telling of stories, we justify traditions and reinforce values. We inspire, build relationships, and set the stage for other forms of generativity through the stories we tell. In a coaching session, we tell stories that reveal something about not only what is valuable in our life and work, but also what is feared in our present life and work and what is envisioned in the future.
We even seem to build our sense of self through our stories—and this likely to take place in particular, when we are working with an appreciative coach. While our body is continually changing and our life events are often in flux, the stories we tell about ourselves provide continuity-the ongoing sense of self. To paraphrase the words of Gary Lopez (1990): the stories that people tell other people (and themselves) have a way of taking care of them. At an even broader level, one might conclude that the stories we tell in our organizations, communities, and societies provide the fabric of continuity. It seems that organizations, at a fundamental level, are nothing more or less than a series of stories (Bergquist, 1993).
We would like to illustrate this important component of Generativity Three by sharing a couple of our own consultative stories. First, one of us was involved in a verbal history project in the State of Montana. This project concerned the history of homesteading in Montana and other prairie states. Pioneering men and women were provided by the American and Canadian governments with a plot of land in an undeveloped and often inhospitable region of Western Northern America. The land was given to them at no change, but they had to live on it and derive a livelihood or at least sustainable nutrition from the land for a specific period of time. Most of the homesteaders were now growing old or had died, without the stories of their remarkable courage and ingenuity being shared and recorded.
The project team went to retirement communities to talk with the homesteaders. As a way of encouraging the recall process and reassuring the storytellers that their life histories were of value, we presented them with a heart-felt and poignant film about homesteading, called Heartland. After showing the movie, we sat with these elderly homesteaders to listen to and record their stories of growing up on the prairie. Their stories revealed much about the ways in which pioneers coped with harsh conditions of the prairie and how they found creative solutions to such problems as insect infestation, droughts, fires and tornados, and a profound sense of isolation. Core values were revealed in these stories, and the pioneering folk felt honored to be asked about their lives. Those of us who witnessed these stories felt equally honored.
Another Generativity Three story involved one of us being indirectly involved in a Chicago-based project. This project focused on once vibrant, but now threatened, ethnic communities. As in the case of the Montana homesteading project, the elderly residents of these communities shared their life stories with members of the project team. In addition to their oral histories, the team collected pictures, 8 mm home movies, posters, newspaper articles and other documents representing the history, values, and aspirations of these communities.
A multi-media display was prepared for each ethnic community, including the voice recordings of the storytellers. The displays were presented in many venues, including storefronts, banks, and other commercial establishments located in the ethnically based Chicago communities. Men, women, stories, visual images, and other documents were thus shared in a very generative manner with those who still lived in these communities. Residents were able to recognize and celebrate their unique heritage and reaffirm their own community values, despite the disruptive social-economic challenges being faced in their community.
The displays were also brought together at the Field Museum in Chicago. The designers of museum displays constructed an accompanying visual commentary about the decay and fragmentation of the ethnic communities. Arching over the top of the displays were large cardboard photos of the freeways that ran through the heart of these communities. The freeway structures served as bridges above and across the communities for commuters wishing to return to their suburban homes with minimal distractions and as quickly as possible.
Sadly, these freeways were of little benefit to the people still living in homes located below the freeways. Furthermore, the freeways often disrupted the flow of people and commerce in the ethnic communities, accelerating their social and economic decline. We see in this Chicago project a commentary on societal values, as well as a blending of storytelling, preservation, and display. As was the case with the Montana project, participants in all of the various roles in the Chicago project experienced the spirit of generativity, be they story-tellers, document providers, listeners, or document collectors.
One of our four Featured Players, Lisa, sums-up the essential role played by storytelling during her Sage project interview. She comments on her own interest in becoming a storyteller, particularly in organizations of which she is a member:
“When asked what my purpose is in wanting to become a skilled storyteller, I say that I have seen Out of Africa, and that I can get Robert Redford! I really want to be a good storyteller; it is simply fascinating and listening to good stories just warms the heart. I want to bring this skill to my work with the nonprofits here in our community in order to help them tell their stories well. It’s about engagement, in telling their story so well that the storyteller gets a strong reaction and connection between people and their organization. When this happens, they really “get it” and want to learn more about the organization and become part of it.”
We observe that storytelling might be particularly challenging for men and women who do not come from or live in a verbally oriented society. So many contemporary societies are print oriented. We spend little time sitting around a campfire or fireplace recalling our family or organization’s stories. At best, we save the stories for reunions, birthdays, or special holidays. Unfortunately, we often need one of the other Generativity Three acts to find a reason and proper venue for the storytelling—unless we are engaged in a professional coaching process that promotes story-telling and the exploration of personal narratives (Drake, 2008).
The Prospects of Generativity Three Stagnation
We conclude this essay about Generativity Three by turning, briefly, to the opposite end of the generativity Three spectrum. We focus once again on the absence of generativity and the resulting condition of personal stagnation. Stagnation as a reaction against Generativity Three is about a narrowness of space and time. We can’t look beyond where we are right now. This means we either disregard the old or ignore the new. In disregarding the old, a person who is stagnant no longer cares about that which came before. The stagnant person considers the old to be “irrelevant,” that which “time has passed by.” This often includes personal history, their contributions in the past, their own legacy. We may be nostalgic about our past life, but we do nothing about it. We don’t honor our own heritage. We don’t honor the contributions of people who have impacted our lives. We move forward without bringing the past with us, which means that we probably don’t really move forward at all. Rather, we spin around and around without a compass or road map. We keep making the same mistakes, learning little from the past.
Discounting the Old
One of the most insightful and expansive thinkers of the 20th Century, Gregory Bateson (1979) wrote about the un-use in biological systems. Bateson uses an example of the femur on a whale (the fin that extends from the top of the whale’s back). This anatomical unit of the whale’s body no longer is of much use; however, it was once very important as a stabilizer for the whale when the ocean currents were much stronger than they are today. Nature decided via evolution to reduce the size of the femur, but not to eliminate it since the ocean might once again become more turbulent. Why reinvent the femur when it can be saved for another time in the future?
Similarly, we see that the “old-timers” in an organization or “outdated” political perspectives may no longer seem relevant to the challenges now being faced in our society. Yet, at another time in the future these perspectives and the underlying wisdom might once again be of great value. We can identify these un-used and now devalued entities as Remnant: components that have been part of a system for many generations and seem now to be irrelevant or out of date. We need to honor the remnants because it is much harder to reinvent than to restore. We are stagnant and lack Generativity Three insight when we ignore Bateson’s insight and the wisdom of the remnant.
One of us saw the dynamic of the remnant play out during a plane flight to North Carolina. We were traveling to a graduation ceremony being held at a conservative college during the early 1980s. The one-time Democratic candidate for the US presidency, George McGovern, was sitting next to us on this small plane. He was invited to the same graduation ceremony as the featured speaker and recipient of an honorary doctoral degree. McGovern was understandably puzzled about this college’s invitation, given its conservative stance.
Serving on the board of trustees at this college, we knew about the rationale behind this decision. Ronald Reagan had recently been elected President, and the United States was leaning toward the conservative end of the political spectrum. McGovern’s liberal perspectives were now “out of date.” In their remarkable wisdom and generative spirit, the college board members (who were universally committed to conservatism) declared that it is important for each of us to listen to all perspectives—especially those that are temporarily out of favor.
This was at the heart of the college’s educational philosophy. Board members wanted George McGovern to speak at graduation precisely because they thought it important for the graduating students to hear a voice that differed from the one to which they were accustom. It was important for the college to honor all traditions and perspectives. This board of trustees was to be commended for its generative act. George McGovern delivered a remarkable graduation speech that was politically balanced and filled with generative appreciation for the invitation he received, and the honorary doctorate bestowed on him.
Ignoring the Young
Stagnation can also show up as a lack of respect for the young. It is ironic that when we ignore the past, we are also blocking the future. The past was owned by us when we were younger. We were filled with optimism, a belief that the world could be improved. This was a certain kind of naive wisdom. Now, when we are stagnant, there is a failure to appreciate (let alone savor) our younger selves. Yes, we were “young and foolish.” But we were also full of energy and commitment. Can we recognize that this same passion exists among the young men and women in our society today? Can we allow the young to participate in the critical decisions to be made in our organizations and communities? Or do we isolate and ignore what they have to say?
One of our younger Sage leaders commented on this generative challenge for one organization in which he participates (Rotary). He framed this challenge as the opportunity for mutual respect across the ages:
“Rotary is typically an organization for older people, and I have gotten comments about being young and having energy. I like to bring youthfulness to what we do and show older people that there are young people who respect them and learn from what they have to say because we feel they are a wealth of knowledge.”
We see in this brief but wise observation that generative appreciation goes in both directions. We honor those who are older than we are (availing ourselves of Generative Two guidance) and those traditions and values that predate us (availing ourselves of Generative Three continuity). In return, we are respected and listened to by those we have appreciated and honored.
Conclusions
While we are ending this essay on a negative note, the warnings we have offered are presented in large part to remind us of the powerful motives that underlie our generative acts and the great benefit that Generativity Three brings to our personal and collective lives, especially if this form of generativity is being explored in a professional coaching session. It is in Generativity Three that we broaden our temporal horizon—especially when we are working with a professional coach. We go back in time, explore current values, and envision the future. We honor both the past and the future. Reciprocity of past and future is a good thing. It enables a dynamic interplay across generations in a community or nation. The enabling of this interplay becomes the focus point of our next essay. We turn to Generativity Four and the challenges of civic engagement.
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