The division of our culture is making us more obtuse than we need be: we can repair communications to some extent: but . . . .we are not going to turn out men and women who understand as much of their world as Piero della Francesca did of his, or Pascal, or Goethe. With good fortune, however, we can educate a large proportion of our better minds so that they are not ignorant of the imaginative experience, both in the arts and in science, nor ignorant either of the endowments of applied science, of the remediable suffering of most of their fellow humans, and of the responsibilities which, once seen, cannot be denied.
C.P. Snow. The Two Cultures
Apparently, our society lives in two different worlds – or at least our world of perspective and practice—and even more fundamentally our notion of what constitutes knowledge and ultimately some sense of what constitutes reality—and what constitutes valid expert advice. These two different worlds have been with us for many years (even centuries); however, it was C. P. Snow’s (2012) notion of “two cultures” that he delivered in the 1958 Rede lecture that brought the disturbing notion of two world to prominence. Snow stirred things up and began a debate among not just educators, scholars and academicians, but also those who write and speak about the condition of contemporary society.
Fundamentally, what Snow has to say is directly related to the way in which reality is being seen and assessed. From one of the two cultural perspectives—the scientific—reality is best understood through the use of quantitative measurement. Numbers reign supreme. The second culture—humanities—considers reality to be much more elusive. Numbers are not enough. Other modes of assessment are valid—including narrative (story telling) and various artistic representations. For those in the humanities, the human enterprise is particularly elusive. Measurement is inadequate when seeking to represent the human experience. History is constituted of something more than number and the future is best predicted through something more than mathematically based trend analyses. It seems that human beings are fickle entities and are inclined as Taleb (2010) indicates to produce unanticipated “black swans.”
The challenge for experts who come from one of the two cultures (which most do) is particularly vexing, for a perspective and set of practices can always be produced in the other culture that calls into question the limitations and biases of this expert’s view and recommended actions. Black swans flutter all around experts in contemporary life. It is even more likely that experts must live with black swans when they seek to somehow blend perspectives and practices from Snow’s two cultures. As I have noted frequently in this series of essays regarding the crisis of expertise in the midst of Intersects, the challenges as well as the opportunities are prominent in a world where two or more sets of perspectives and practices intersect with one another. Ultimately, I would suggest, we are encountering many Intersections when seeking to incorporate both the culture of science and the culture of the humanities in our work as experts (or as coaches to those leaders who look to experts for guidance). I would even go so far as to suggest that an interplay between different cultural perspectives and practices from the two cultures are at times “revolutionary” – resulting in what Thomas Kuhn (1962) identified as a shift in paradigms.
I wish in this essay to explore the interplay between the two cultures further—beginning with our apparent contemporary embrace of the scientific culture (and numbers) and then moving to suggestions about the underlying need for a broader catchment field (regarding information) and about ways to broaden this catchment area (especially when gathering information about human-based processes and events). I suggest, as I have done in the other essays in this series) that expertise which resides in the middle of an intersection can be of greatest value in our mid-21st Century world. I wish to identify these intersect-residing experts as Cosmopolitan in their perspectives and practices.
Enamored with Numbers
The challenge of expertise as we find experts dwelling in one of the two cultures begins with the love affair many people in the mid-21st Century are having with numbers and, more generally, the culture of science. One of the recent observers of this love affairs is Deborah Stone (2021) who writes about numbers and how we use them, often indiscriminately to portray reality and to make decisions based on this reality. She offers the following summary statement early in her book (Stone, 2021, p. 30):
This book explores how counting works in the social world and why numbers can’t do everything we wish they could. Numbers have come to serve as reality tests (“If you can’t measure it, it doesn’t exit”) and truth detectors (“Show me the numbers”). · Too often people rely on numbers to make and justify their decisions, instead of doing the hard work of thinking, questioning, and discussing. If I devote more space to unpacking the limits of numbers than to praising their virtues, that’s because I hope to make them serve us better.
In my review of the important observations made by Stone, I wish to frame the arguments within the broader tradition provided initially by Berger and Luckmann (1967) when they introduced the concept of reality being a “social construction.” They challenge the widely accepted assumption that reality can be objectively viewed, given sufficiently accurate tools of measurement. This assumption is directly aligned with the culture of science. For Berger and Luckmann, there is no clearly specifiable and fully verifiable reality; rather, there are constructions of reality that reside within a special social context (completes with the biases, agendas, rewards, politics, etc.) associated with this society. Aligning with a more humanities-oriented culture, these two social “scientists” would applaud the analyses offered by Stone. She begins her analysis with references to Snow’s two cultures and often refers to the often arbitrary and constructive nature of numbers (referring to them as “metaphors”).
Numbers as Social Constructions
While there are many ways that numbers (quantitative/scientific) differ from narratives (qualitative measures/humanities) they are fully aligned with narratives as a fundamental level. Like narratives, the numbers we use are social constructions. They are not some distant, nonhuman-based enterprise that offer “objective” perspectives on reality but are just as vulnerable to failed human perceptions and judgements as are the so-called “subjective” (humanistic) perspectives on reality.
The social construction of numbers begins with the basic learning that occurs when children are taught how to count. Stone (2021, p. 4) observes that counting: “entails two mental moves: first classifying, then tallying. In the first phase, counting is a way of making metaphors, because we start by finding similarities among things that are different.” We count “two” chairs, even though these chairs might not look much like one another and are of different colors. This gathering together of diverse entities is a social constructive act: we are told, as children, that there is something called a “chair” that takes on different forms.
It is even slipperier when we are seeking to measure ongoing events rather than inert entities such as chairs. How do we determine the number of times someone has told the truth or told a lie? How much time does it take to complete a task? I was even asked recently to indicate how many hours or days (or years) it takes from someone to become a leader. In order to measure these elusive phenomena or outcomes, we must not only provide a definition of what it means to provide “truth”, to “finish” a task, or “be” a leader, we must also provide punctuation that indicates when something has started and when it has finished. When does the presentation of truth or lies begin and end; when does the task begin and end; and when does the challenge of becoming a leader begin and end? As far back as the 1960s, Paul Watzlawick and his colleagues (1967) indicates that punctuation might reside at the hear of all communication (and miscommunication).
Measurement is challenging and not easily learned (as a child) or engaged in the real world (as an adult). As Stone (2021, p. 4) goes on to note:
Numbers—those things people revere because they’re so precise and objective? We construct them by making our own decisions [guided by social conventions] about how to separate things into groups. In the split second before we decide, the thing could to either way; it could be a this or it could be a that. Numbers are a magic wand that resolves ambiguity into one-ness.
I would add to what Stone has observed by noting that our rapid decision is aided by the realities (categories) that are assigned by the society (and culture) in which we live. The “magic wand” is based in social conventions.
Put simply (and dramatically) by Stone (2021, p. 12):
Categorizing cooks the numbers –not to the sense of deliberate fudging, though there’s plenty of fudge to go around, but in the sense that someone has to make judgments and interpretations before counting can begin. Numbers are product of our imagination, fictions really, no more true than poems or paintings. In this sense of fiction, all statistics are lies.
Snow’s two cultures suddenly collapse, for there is no more ultimately “objectivity” in numbers and science then there is in narratives and the humanities. Under conditions of despair and disillusionment, we can conclude (as Stone suggest) that all numbers and measurements as “fictions.” I would suggest that this declaration is only warranted if we stick with a strict, objectivist definition of science and are thus surprised to learn that this strict definition is not warranted. There are important (even critical) ways in which to judge the veracity of a specific measurement tool and the resulting numbers obtained. We just need to remember that this is only one version of reality.
The social construction of numbers doesn’t stop here. I would suggest that even Stone’s second mental move (counting) can be somewhat arbitrary, especially if the number of entities to be counted are quite large. We often are required to “sample” the population to be measured, since there is not enough time or resources to count all entities. We speak of statistical probabilities, rather than statistical certainties. We estimate the extent to which we are likely to be correct in our portrayal of the entire population—often accepting 95% probability as acceptable. Why not 90% or 99%. It is arbitrary and a social convention (reinforced by norms, textbooks references and publication requirements). In the world described by Thomas Kuhn (1962), there are existing paradigmatic communities that determine what an adequate sample is and how this sample should be conducted.
Deborah Stone (2021, p. 50) put it this way:
The more you go along with the crowd, the more influence you have on the final score. It’s a paradoxical power, though, for if you think the same way as the crowd, the crowd probably has had more influence on you than you will have on its conclusions. Because scientists define reliability as counting the same way other trained scientists count, conformity becomes the standard of correctness. To invoke one of my mother’s mantras, “Just because everybody does it, doesn’t make it right.” The method produces a kind of groupthink, albeit with experts instead of average Joes.
Paradigmatic conformity and going along with the crowd (paradigmatic community) is fully in place among members of the scientific community (and culture) (and among those operating in the humanities—though Kuhn would suggest that these communities are not organized enough (and are not conforming enough) to be called “paradigmatic.” He calls them “pre-paradigmatic.”
Finally, I would point to yet another way in which numbers and measurements are social constructions that often appear to be arbitrary. This final condition relates to something called “primacy” by those psychologists (and behavioral economists) who study judgements and decision-making processes. It seems that the first numbers being presented, and the first conclusions reported on the basis of these numbers, tends to hold “primacy.” They are much more influential than number presented at a later time or than a correction in the initial report of the numbers. This is a point, once again, when the distinctions drawn between Snow’s two cultures breaks down. The first presentation (and description) of the principal character in a novel or movie will define the nature and motives of this person throughout the narrative.
Stone (2021, pp. 20-21) mentions Goffman’s (1959) The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life as a way to describe the motivates we have for reporting on our pain (or answering questionnaires). The reports of pain are best conveyed by means of words rather than numbers (though pain scales are usually numerical). Questionnaire results must always be tempered by recognition that respondents usually want to appear in their responses to be rational, caring, observant, consistent, etc. I would suggest, even more broadly, that we are deeply concerned at all times in our life with the initial impression that other people have of us and that any attempt to convey something about how we feel, think and behave are based at least in part on these initial conditions. We are always in the business of socially constructing our own presentation of self. It all eventually comes down to narrative—and social behavior must ultimately look to the humanities for wisdom (with some humble assistance from the behavioral sciences).
The Power of Numbers
Deborah Stone captures some of the magic and ultimate power that we afford numbers and science. She (Stone, 2021, pp. 100=101) draws an insightful equation between the power that was assigned the Gods of Olympus in an early era and the power we now assign to number:
What is it about numbers that makes us put so much faith in them and trust them as oracles of truth? After all, when numbers speak, they summarize judgments that humans have already made about “what counts.” Numbers acquire their power the same way the gods acquire theirs—humans invest them with virtues they want their rulers to have. Call it fairness, call it lack of favoritism, call it meritocracy, call it equal treatment. Call it wisdom. Or, as many people do now, call it objectivity. Our numbers, like our gods, promise to govern us well.
Where is the power bestowed by us on the Gods of number? It is bestowed in many sectors. Stone writes of the critical role played by numbers in such areas as the measurement of academic achievement used to determine acceptance into college (e.g. the SAT scores (Stone, p. 189-191), the assessment of human populations in the United States (the Census Bureau (Stone, pp. 1166-168) and perhaps most importantly (and most perniciously) the measurement of public attitude (e.g. the Gallop Polls) (Stone, pp. 145-152). These so-called “objective” measures contain many untested (and self-fulfilling) assumptions about the nature of intelligence and academic aptitude, the best ways in which to characterize and categorize race, ethnicity and even gender, and the best way in which to define political and social class realities.
Stone dwells on yet another way in which numbers hold great power. This concerns how employment and unemployment statistics are compiled and reported by the Bureau of Labor Statistics in the United States. She notes that the unemployment number is fictious in two ways (2021, p.28):
To begin with, its authors have selected only a few kinds of-unemployment to include in their count. Counting unemployment is just a more complex version of how we teach children to count cookies: look for one or two features they all share and ignore the differences.
As she concludes throughout the book the two cultures are intertwined for the unemployment number (like many other numbers) “is a giant metaphor”.
Stone (2021, p. 28) goes on to further make the case for numbers (like narratives) being essentially nothing more (or less) than stories:
The unemployment number is fiction in another sense, too. It doesn’t measure what people actually do. It measures what people say they do when they answer survey questions. Some people are ashamed they don’t have a job and won’t admit it to an interviewer. Some people work off the books and won’t admit that either. The unemployment number captures people’s stories, not their actions. Even worse for accuracy, people don’t get to tell their stories in their own words.
There is one other, overarching way in which numbers are given God-like (and therefore unquestioned) status. This is in the ongoing assessment of prosperity in the United States – and many other countries. Citizens of the United States can celebrate when the Gross National Product is strong and can express concern (and even change their voting decisions) if the GNP is not strong. This measurement of prosperity is, in tun, based exclusively on economic conditions, with no thought being given to noneconomic measures (that are usually not readily assigned a number). This same bias operates at smaller levels—ranging from the similar assessment of prosperity at the state and local governmental level to the assessment of success at the level of individual organizational level (especially corporations) –that are governed by “bottom line” (economic) judgments.
Stone is somewhat optimistic about the possiblity of noneconomic measures beginning to eneter into the measurement of prosperity. She identifies the Social Progress Index as a measurement that is “laden with interesting ideas about quality of life as well as thoughtproivoking measurement problems. “ (Stone, 2021, p. 90) In one of my own recent books, Rosalind Sun and I joined with Deborah Stone in offering a somewhat optimistic view about broader (and often nonnumerical) ways of judging prosperity (Sun and Bergquist, 2021, Word for World, p. 310):
The broader assignment of investments, costs and benefits might inform a revised measure of societal prosperity—as we find in the new economistics of Kate Raworth. Many of the traditional assumptions about this assignment are now being questioned inside government offices. Additional institutions are involved in the advocation of these revisions. Institutes and agencies (such as DEAL) work with or offer thoughtful critiques of governments as well as help guide new initiatives being engaged by communities such as Amsterdam. While Gross National Product (GNP), as a strickly financial formula, is currently being used exclusively to measure prosperity in most communities, alternatives to GNP are now being widely advocated and given serious consideration by people in power—especially those who are listending to Kate Raworth and other progressive 21st Century economists.
We go on to note (Sun and Bergquist, 2021, p. 310):
At the present time, when new legislation is introduced in a legislative body in the USA (and many other countires) it is “scored” for financial impact: what will happen in terms of revenues and expenses if this legislation is implemented? Shouldn’t potential legislation also be “scored” for its impact on social welfare and equity? Several institutes in the United States are now advocating this expanded scoring process. We might ask an even more pointed question as we consider the life of the women we have been studying: shouldn’t the prosperity of a society (or at least a specific community) be measured at least in part by the quality of life being led among its working citizens? How might proposed legislation be scored for its impact on this segment of our society (ciitizens who often live below the Line)? We can expand the scope of our concern about impact: shouldn’t societal prosperity be measured in part by the care this society is taking in protecting the environment in which residents of this society live.
When considering the ways in which many people (especially women) have been placed in a status of “slave wages”, Rosalind Sun and I proposed (Sun and Bergquist, 2021) that accountability must be broadened. The numberical Gods must be confronted if we are to achieve a highly level of equity in the workplace (and in the lives of many people around the world). Hopefully, a “bottom line” mentality will not always remain the coin of the realm among those who are governing public institutions and those who are leading contemporary organizations.
The Challenges to Numbers: Gorillas and Trolleys
The power that Stone suggests we assign to numbers comes, in part, like all very powerful assumptions held by human societies, from the “invisibility” of the numbers. They profoundly influence how we view the world, yet we are often unaware of this influence. At one level, numbers help to determine what we attend to and what we ignore. On the one hand, as Stone notes, “if we don’t’ see it, we won’t count it.”. Stone (2021, pp. 34-35 recounts the now famous study of the gorilla who appears in a video but is not seen because the subject of this experiment are attending to another matter. Given that we value numbers, the unseen also become unvalued. A tight reciprocity is engaged. I believe that this reciprocity also works in the opposite direction: what we can’t count, we don’t see (or at least ignore). This second form of reciprocity might be even less often acknowledged – hence being that much more powerful. Both forms would seem to be toxic to credible and useful expertise in our contemporary world.
There is a second source of influence to which Stone devotes an entire chapter. We are inclined to use numbers when making important ethical judgments yet are typically not aware that we are relying on often inappropriate numerical criteria when making difficult decisions. Stone (2021, pp.292-203 turns to yet another noted study when making her case. We are the conductor of a trolley car (or the switchman beside the track) that is out of control and must make a quick decision whether to stay on the current track where there are five people tied to the track or divert to a sidetrack where there is one person tied to the track. The answer seems simple: move to the sidetrack. However, this means sacrificing the life of an innocent person who has been tied to the track for some unknown reason in order to save five other people.
As Stone notes, we are often caught in this moral dilemma when deciding between the welfare of one person and the welfare of the many. Do we allow the religious beliefs of one person impact the health of many other people? Do we allow one legislator to block the passage of a bill approved by a majority of other legislators in order to preserve the rights of this one, dissenting member of the governing body? Stone would suggest that these moral dilemmas are rarely best solved by counting heads. We sometimes choose to retain our current course of action (stay on the main track) for a good reason and support the religious freedom or rights of the dissenter. Number counting is not a substitute for moral reasoning. Expertise often is to be found among philosophers (humanities culture) rather than statisticians (science culture).
Given these challenges to the sacred throne in which numbers and science now sit in most 21st Century societies, Deborah Stone (2021, pp. 217-218) offers the following wise advice regarding those who are enamored by and become experts in the use of numbers:
Stay humble. Numbers are the products of our poor power to make sense of our lives. They aren’t truth meters. We shouldn’t use them as arbiters of political conflicts or as answer to ethical quandaries. . . Numbers contain the stories people tell each other and themselves. Hold your ear to a number as to a seashell and listen to its whispers.
With this cautionary note and request for numbers-folks to embrace a humble attitude, I turn to the challenges faced by the narratives-folks. I am applying the equal time policy in exploring the best ways in which to become a Cosmopolitan expert who can move between Snow’s two cultures.
Enamored with Words
Lest we conclude that only the culture of science and numbers is guilty of arrogance and ignorance – and that it is only the experts residing in this culture who are in trouble, it is important to note that the world of words and narratives – the culture of the humanities—is itself often unaware of or refusing to acknowledge the deeply embedded assumption with which it operates. The experts of narration are often themselves challenged by a rightful critique of their siloed view of the world. The architects of social constructivism are themselves often unaware of their own arbitrary constructions. Their fictions are just as glaring as those identified by Deborah Stone.
To gain some sense of what is occurring in the social constructive act of those in the humanism culture, I turn first to linguistics (one of the building blocks of the humanities) and specifically to the distinction drawn between semantics and syntax. Put all too simply, semantics concerns the content being conveyed through use of language, whereas syntax refers to the structure of the language being used. I propose that the basis (in part) of social construction in the humanities (and in the world of experts operating from this culture) resides in both domains of language.
Semantics
Benjamin Whorf (2012) and his more widely accepted predecessor, Edward Sapir, were among the most controversial (and at times influential) proponents of a constructivist perspective regarding the role played by the content of language—a perspective often broadly identified as symbolic interactionism. The so-called Whorfian Hypothesis concerns the influence of words on our thoughts and subsequently our decisions and actions. On the one hand, there is a version of this hypothesis that is often called the Weak Whorfian Hypothesis. This version is based on the strong correlation found between words and priorities: we finely articulate that about which we care.
There are many semantically defined distinctions to be made in domains where we have much invested—while there are few distinctions drawn in areas of less social value. The classic example offered by Whorf is the many different words used among the Inuit (Eskimo) when identifying and describing what most of us would call “snow.” In recent years, we can point similarly to the many words used by ski and snowboard enthusiasts for the “snow” in which they operate. Those of us with minimal interest in “snow” use just the one word, while the Inuit, skiers and snow boarders use many different words, because they are living and navigating (at least part of their life) in this “snowy” world.
I would offer the example of differentiations made by the Ancient Greeks in the domain of what we in contemporary life would call “love.” Most of us use the single word, “love,” whereas the Greeks identified four different kinds of committed engagements: eros, philia, storge and agape. The Whorfians would suggest that Ancient Greeks might have placed greater value on the domain of “love” than is the case with those of us who place greater value on and attend much more diligently to other matters. A similar case could be made for the Inuit, skiers and snowboarders. The critical point to be made here is that this version of the Whorfian hypothesis is called “weak” because correlations do not imply causation – only mutual alignment.
Some Whorfians and renegade linguistics and psychologists move beyond this weak approach to understanding the interplay between words and thought. The Strong Whorf Hypothesis is based on the assertion that our language (and specifically our words) strongly influences and even determines our perceptions of and actions in the world. The strong question becomes: do the Inuit and skiers see something different and take different actions as a result of their more detailed distinctions regarding “snow”? Did the Greeks see something different in their loving relationships with one another? Were there differing perceptions that led to differing decisions and actions as a result of the words being used?
Clearly, this pull between a weak and strong Whorfian perspective is important when we turn to the use of words to understand all modes of realty Semantics play a critical role in the assignment of labels to particular phenomena==particular in the domain of human behavior. For example, we seek to find remedies for the emotional and mental problems afflicting those who are classified as “psychopathological.” Is our concern about and “valuing” of specific domains of psychopathology (such as anxiety and substance abuse) reflected in finer semantic differentiations of these domains? In the culture of science, we are included to measure that which we value, and in the culture of the humanities we tend provide fine differentiations of words to realms that we deem most important (such as human behavior). There are gorillas in both cultures that we often ignore through the way we use (and don’t use) both words and numbers.
Syntax
It is not just the words being used that seem to form social constructions in the world of narration and the culture of the humanities. It is also the way in which these words are arrayed. Some languages, for instance, are “right-branching” whereas others are “left-branching” These two terms refer to the way in which a sentence is structured. The language in which this essay is written (English) can be identified as “right branching”—for the modifiers are placed after the subject. For instance, as the author of this essay (and as a psychologist), I can write that “psychopathology is a domain in which there is considerable confusion and in which a great deal of money is at play.” The emphasis in this statement is upon the word “psychopathology” – while the modifiers are what I have to say about psychopathy. You, as the reader, are directed to attend first to the main topic: psychopathology. I then take you in one or more directions from this main subject.
A left-branching structure is less commonly used in English—though it is quite common in certain other language groups. When an English sentence is structured with left branching, then the subject comes after the modifiers. Our sentence would now read: “A great deal of money and considerable confusion is at play when we consider the domain of psychopathology.” As the reader, you must wait for the “punch line.” What is the writer leading us to with this concern about money and clarification? There is drama in the use of left-branching structures (this sentence itself is left-branching). However, the left-branching structure can also produce quite a bit of misunderstanding (this is a right-branching sentence).
Many readers (residing in the humanities culture) will recognize that the distinctive between right and left branching is perhaps nothing more than the distinctive made between active voice (right branching) and passive voice (left branching). It is more complicated than this; however, in the present analysis we will consider the terms active and right (and passive and left) to be essentially equivalent. The term “right branching” usually refers to the preponderance of (and preference for) active voice in a particular language group, with “left branching” similarly referring to the preponderance of (and preference for) passive voice.
With this clarification in place, I suggest that there is much more at play when we consider the syntactic structure of a sentence and the predominance of right or left branching communication. We are ‘in control” with right branching communication: we set up the subject for our reader and then go to work on it. Conversely, the left-branching statement is much less clearly in our control, for our reader is likely to set up their own assumptions about what we are about to say or write. While the left-branch can be dramatic and sometimes compelling (with the recipient waiting for clarity), it can also be a source of not only misunderstanding but also distraction and loss of focus.
What then, does this have to say about social construction—and the humanities and narrative-oriented expert? I propose that there is at least a Soft Branching Hypothesis: the way in which we structure our expert communication is aligned with the sense we have about our own personal control over the content of the statement(s) being offered. When we are “out of control” we are likely to be left branching. There might be an even more forceful (and controversial) hypothesis. The Strong Branching Hypothesis would suggest that the nature of branching has a direct impact on the way in which we construct our reality – especially the way in which we identify and act upon our assumptions about what is called “locus of control.”
When assuming we have control over a specific domain of expertise, then we are likely to be assertive and direct—we are likely to make extensive use of right-branching structures. Writing like Ernest Hemingway, we are likely to express ourselves in simple, declarative statements. We “know” what is true and what is false. We live in the same objectivist universe as the numbers-based “scientists”. There is no constructivist hesitation. We are clear and in charge of our faculties and the facts. As experts, we live in an assumptive world of internalized control.
By contrast, what if we are living with a prevalent assumption of living in a world where we have very little control over (or certainty as experts about) the facts or actions to be taken based on the information we have acquired (whatever its source). This assumption leads us to and is reinforced by left-branching statements. We are hesitant about what is true and what is false. We qualify everything and “back into” our recommendations, rather than offering them “up front.” Our writing is speculative. As humanistic experts we are less in the Hemingway camp, and more in the camp of those postmodern authors who can’t write an intelligible sentence! We are “out of control” and are without clear bearings or direction. The world of volatile and vulnerable constructivism is alive and well (or not so well).
I propose that there is a profound, implication regarding expertise associated with this syntactic analysis. Left and right branching tends to shift the way in which we view causality. Causal analysis is a critical issue in the domain of human behavior. The direction of causality is clear when the subject comes prior to the modifiers. We can say: “the boy hits the ball” or we can say: “the boy hits the ball out of the park”. In either case, it is the boy who is the primary cause. Nothing changes with the addition of more modifiers. When the subject follows the modifiers then causality can be confusing. We say: “The ball was hit by the boy”. This is the same thing as “the boy hit the ball.” However, we are a bit more in doubt, for the ball seems to be particularly important. In some way, did the ball choose the boy who is to do the hitting? Of course not.
If we replay “boy” with “this population” and replace “ball” with “violence”, then the issue becomes a bit more in doubt. “People in this population are likely to exhibit violent” is not quite the same thing as “violence is likely to be exhibited by people in this population”. This second statement doesn’t differ much from “people in this population are likely to exhibit violent”; however, the left branching statements seem to place some causality in the state of violence: Are people in this population becoming ‘unstable’ because of the violence or do they model their behavior after the violence that is occurring all around them (or is the violence a symptom of the culture that pervades this population)?
On the surface, these variations in the presentation of a description seem trivial; however, I would suggest that they are not and that any thoughtful review of contemporary theories about and strategies for dealing with violence must address the often-subtle issue of implicit (as well as explicit) causality. A sequencing of causality is critical in seeking to understand and address specific human behavioral issues. While semantics plays an important role in the labeling of human behavior, syntax (or at least the fundamental ordering of causality) plays a role in the formulation of assumptions about the etiology and ultimately attempts to address human dysfunction. Experts in the humanities must be just as humble as those in the sciences when presenting themselves as experts regarding the human condition.
Going Beyond the Numbers and Narratives: Diversity of Perspectives
How do we bring both numbers and words to bear upon our own work as Cosmopolitan experts? How do we come to value and use the expertise of other people, as experts, when they offer diverse and often complex perspectives and interpretations? How as coaches, to we assist our clients in identifying and making effective use of Cosmopolitan experts? As a first step toward answers these important questions, I turn to the work of Frans Johansson (2004, 2006) who writes about the dynamic opportunities and challenges of differing perspective and Intersections as they relate to the fostering of creativity within social systems. Johansson focuses on what he calls the Medici Effect and the “Intersections” between different disciplines and cultures—what Thomas Kuhn (1962) might consider the Intersections between differing paradigms.
This represents the positive and generative side of Irony and contradiction (Rorty, 1989): diverse ideas and perspectives create new ideas and perspectives—even new paradigms. Harkening back to the “explosion of remarkable ideas” during the reign of the Medici family in Florence during the Italian Renaissance, Johansson suggests that “if we can just reach an intersection of disciplines or cultures, we will have a greater change of innovating, simply because there are so many unusual ideas to go around.” (Johansson, 2004, p. 20)
Like Florence of the 14th and 15th Centuries, our contemporary world is filled with Intersections that create opportunities for the generation of new ideas. In short, we are living in a Cosmopolitan world. It is a world that offers amply opportunities for creativity and invention. Johansson’s hopes regarding an intersection might even lead to the building of a bridge between Snow’s two cultures. Clearly at the very least, our Cosmopolitan world is saturated with options and choices. Richard Rorty (1989) would suggest that it is a world in which we must live with (and learn from) contingencies. It is also a world that offers potential diffusion of power and control. In a book of the past decade, Moisés Naim (2013) writes about the impact of diversity and complexity on the allocation and application of power. We find that the traditional, centralized sources of power—the government, churches, large corporations—are no longer able to command full authority. In large part this is because there are now many sources and kinds of power. We are living in a Cosmopolitan world that is diverse regarding disciplines (and as Snow suggests competing cultures). It is also diverse regarding power, leading to what Naim calls the “end of power.”
More Intersections
Frans Johansson writes extensively about how to forge Intersections in ourselves and in our organizations. He offers many suggestions in his original book, The Medici Effect (2004), and his more recent books (Johansson, 2006, 2012). I will identify only a few of the strategies offered by Johansson in his first book and suggest that the reader turn to his abundant toolkits for more ideas. Johansson first suggests that we expose ourselves to a range of cultures. This is certainly possible in our Cosmopolitan world and with a coach’s encouragement this can also be part of the agenda for a client when considering ways to expand the number and diversity of Intersections in their life: travel, reading, or lingering around the less-often visited neighborhoods in our “flat”, interlocking world (Freidman, 2006).
Second, Johansson suggests that we learn to learn differently. While he doesn’t mention the work of David Kolb (1984), I imagine that Johansson would be in full support of Kolb’s description of differing learning strategies and Kolb’s recommendation that we learn how to learn using each of these strategies: (1) concrete experience (learning by going out into the world and experiencing it directly), (2) reflective observation (learning by watching how other people engage their world and reflecting on one’s own experience of the world), (3) abstract conceptualization (building a conceptual model of the world into which to place, categorize, and interrelate various experiences) and (4) active experimentation (directly engaging the world through specific actions that yield feedback for use in further modification of the action). Intersections are likely to be more often encountered with the use of this diverse set of learning strategies. A coach or consultant can not only encourage this diversity—she can also emulate this diversity through the different ways in which she engages with her client in his own work as a coaching client.
The third Intersection strategy suggested by Johansson is the reversal of assumptions—which seems to be akin to Rorty’s contingency. A coach can be particularly helpful in facilitating this reversal. As Argyris and Schön (1974) and their very successful protégé, Peter Senge (1990) have noted, we move through the world with many untested assumptions (what they identify as the “left column”) which profoundly influence the way in which we interact with other people (and Johansson would add, the way in which we interact with ideas).
With my colleague, Agnes Mura, I have written about the use of coaching techniques that surface and test these assumptions. (Bergquist and Mura, 2011) Our description of “decisional-coaching” is particularly appropriate, though Johansson moves further than we do in encouraging not only surfacing and testing the accuracy of assumptions, but also reversing these assumptions. Mura and I identified a similar strategy (the “absurd suggestion”) in describing the Argyris and Schön-derived coaching strategy called “advocacy-inviting-inquiry”. (Bergquist and Mura, 2011, p. 283)
Fourth, Johansson invites us to try on different perspectives. This means viewing a specific issue from several different angles. This seems to be even more closely aligned with Rorty’s contingency. Many years ago, I worked with a woman who taught drawing at a Chicago-area university. She would invite her students to sit in a circle, surrounding a still-life (fruit, several goblets and a ceramic bowl). She would have them draw what they saw and once they had done so, would have them compare their own drawing with those drawn by the other students. Not only would differing drawing styles (and skills) be on display, but also different perspectives on the still life.
I invited my colleague to try out this same studio technique in non-art-related settings. What would it look like to view a philosophical issue from multiple perspectives—or a novel? She thrived in this work, creating studios in many different settings, working with faculty members from diverse academic disciplines in her own university. As coaches and consultants, how do we emulate this art teacher, encouraging our client to study their coaching issues from diverse perspectives? How do we create a coaching or consulting studio for our client?
As Johansson notes, Intersections increase with a greater diversity in perspective. When wandering through our mid-21st Century world, we can’t help but notice the rich interplay of sights and sounds. This diversity encourages us (even forces us) to view the world from multiple points of view. We are not just viewing a still-life from different parts of the room—the still life is itself constantly changing! As a professional coach, how do we create this Cosmopolitan State of Mind in our client? Can we help them build their own personal bridge between Snow’s two cultures of calculation and narrative? Can we help them identify and make effective use of an expert who resides inside one or more intersections and, as a result, holds a Cosmopolitan perspective and engages in (or supports) Cosmopolitan practices?
Soulful and Spirit-ful Intersections
While all four of Johansson’s strategies (and many more) help us increase the number and diversity of Intersections in our life, I would suggest that there is a second dimension to explore when considering ways in which to create and use Intersections. I specifically propose that there are two different types of Intersection and both types are abundant in our contemporary world. There are first the Spirit-ful Intersections. These are Intersections that elicit optimistic, big picture ideas. They encourage us to move upward.
Sharon Stone (2021, p. 71) writes about a study in which people were asked: “How much money do you think people need in order not to be poor?’ The answers to this question typically went beyond numbers. Many years ago, I was teaching an M.A. course and asked my students to conduct a simple interview with their acquaintances by introducing a similar question. I invited my students to ask the following question: “how much is enough money.” This is a very spirt-ful question. A rich diversity of answers was provided that encouraged those being interviewed to look upward—toward their own personal aspirations. It was interesting to note the intersections that were contained in the responses to this basic question. As in the case of the study that Stone cited, they typically were not just about money and numbers (“I want to make xxxx dollars per year”); they included reflections on work/life balance, the role to be played by spouses and family in defining financial goals, concerns about quality of life after retirement—and the nature of personal happiness.
There are also Soul-ful Intersections. These are the Intersections that elicit reflection and often painful recognition or remembrance. One of the respondents to my student’s interview about having “enough money” offered the following poignant and soul-ful response: “It is always one more dollar than I now have.” We soulfully grieve the absence of the Twin Towers at the World Trade Center in New York City and the aspirations these buildings (and those working in these buildings) brought to the world of international commerce. The 9/11 memorial site, with the water dropping off as a four-sided waterfall into the deep recesses of the earth inspires us in a quite different manner than the high-rise buildings. The cathedrals, synagogues and mosques similarly pull us deeper and into a state of solemnity and prayer. These are the intersections that Deborah Stone suggests we bring into the realm of morality and ethical decision-making.
Even if we are not oriented toward a religious life, we find sanctuaries to be sources of soul-ful Intersection. An effective coach will provide sanctuary and encourage both the spirit-ful movement upward and outward with their client, and the soul-ful movement downward and inward. These two types of Intersection also set the stage for a fuller representation of the Cosmopolitan State of Mind—or any state of mind for that matter. When describing a state of mind, I am exploring the internal context of my client—which is usually the primary focus of my coaching sessions. As professional coaches we are looking for diversity not only in the environment in which our clients dwell, but also in the mind and heart that dictate how our clients process and act upon this world.
As my colleague, Sandra Hill notes, we must pay attention to not only the external context in which leaders operate, but also to their own internal context. Coaching clients have both character and culture. Character is all about the internal context and culture is about the external context. With the help of a coach or consultant, clients can create and learn to live constructively and creatively. They can begin to truly appreciate their own rich and distinctive internal context and character. A Cosmopolitan perspective held by the expert, the coach and the client will incorporate both the internal and external context.
The Intersection between Sources of Information
I would suggest that dwelling in the intersection is not just a dance of soul and spirit and an interplay between internal and external realities. It is also a disciplined interplay among disciplines and an openness to diverse perspectives and practices that arise from multi-tasking with diverse sources of information. It is a Cosmopolitan dance between and among numbers and words. Ultimately, it is entrance into both of Snow’s cultures—especially if the study is being done with human-based process and events, for human behavior is particularly elusive and in need of multiple perspectives. I believe I can make this point briefly and in a persuasive manner by pointing to a newly emerging interdisciplinary field called behavioral economics that focuses on the human enterprise. The work being done in this field suggests that critical multi-tasking occurs when the discipline of economics interplays with the discipline of psychology and when rational decision-making (particularly with regards to money) meets at an intersection with powerful human emotions.
In many ways, this new interdisciplinary field was inaugurated when Ben Bernanke, Chairman of the Board of Governors of the US Federal Reserve Bank, noted in a 2010 graduation speech that “we are social creatures. . . . [E]conomic policymakers should pay attention to family and community cohesion. All else being equal, good economic policies should encourage and support stable families and promote civic engagement.” (Weitz, 2012) Bruno Frey anticipated this merger in 2008 when he noted that “economics is undergoing a remarkable new development, which may even be called revolutionary.” He is speaking about the impact so-called “positive psychology” (the study of happiness, courage and other positive human conditions) might have on the formulation on economic policy. (Weitz, 2012)
Several other books have also been precursors to the Bernacke speech—including Daniel Gilbert’s Stumbling on Happiness (2006), Dan Ariely’s (2008) Predictably Irrational (2008), and Jonah Lehrer’s How We Decide (2009). In each of these books, decision making processes are described as a mixture of cognitive (primarily frontal lobe) considerations and emotional (primarily limbic system) considerations. Ariely and, more recently, the Nobel Prize winning Daniel Kahneman (2013) and Richard Thaler (12015) have focused often on decision-making processes that effect financial matters. They are describing the multi-tasking processes involved in effective policy-formulation, monitoring of economic outcomes, and (more basically) the nature and meaning of economic “success.”
Robert Kegan (1994, p. 50) offers a similarly challenging perspective—or at least hope—regarding multiple sources of information. He presents this perspective through use of a lovely metaphor regarding sources of light:
If five lamps are lit in a large living room, how many sources of light are there? We might say that there are five sources of light. Perhaps the maker of each lamp, genuinely committed to bringing us into the light, will be partial to his own and bid us to come to that source. Or at best, some generous spirit of eclectic relativism may obtain, and the lap-makers may concede that there is a benefit to our being exposed to each of the lamps, each separate source having little to do with the other except that, like the food groups of a well-balanced diet, each has a partial contribution to make to a well-rounded, beneficial whole.
Kegan (1994, p. 50) challenges us at this point. He suggests that the nature of illumination (and sources of information) is not quite that simple:
. . . quite a different answer to the question of how many sources of light there are in the room is possible—namely, that there is only one source. All five lamps work because they are plugged into sockets drawing power from the home’s electrical system. In this view, each lamp is neither a contender for the best source of light nor a mere part of a whole. And if the lamp-maker’s mission is not first of all to bring us to the light of his particular lamp but to bring us to the light of this single source, then he can delight equally in the way his particular lamp makes use of this source and in the way other lamps he would never think to create do also. His relationship to the other lamp-makers is neither rivalrous nor laissez-faire, but co-conspiratorial: the lamp-makers breathe together.
Frans Johansson (2004) is another, somewhat more contemporary, advocate of multiplicity’s benefits. As I have already noted, Johansson derived his analysis from the cultural history of Florence Italy during the Renaissance (the Medici Effect). Johansson offers many examples of how diverse perspectives and disciplines can productively intersect and converge to create highly innovative and valuable ideas and products. I conveyed some of Johansson’ strategies earlier in this book. Having offered these persuasive examples, Johansson (2004, pp. 97-98) goes on to present a couple of reasons for the power of the Intersection of perspectives and ideas (the Medici Effect):
Why is the intersection of disciplines or cultures such a vibrant place for creativity? . . . It increases the chances that an idea will be good because it brings together very different concepts from very different fields. . . [T]here is another, stronger, reason for its power. When you connect two separate fields, you also set off an exponential increase of unique concept combinations, a veritable explosion of ideas. Or, to put it succinctly, if being productive is the best strategy to innovate, then the Intersection is the best place to innovate.
As coaches, are we in the business of helping our clients find these points of Intersection? Do we help our clients identify underlying unification in the expert perspectives and advice they are receiving? Is our job in part to help our clients find some underlying theme, pattern or personal identity while living with the crisis of expertise? Are we trying to help our clients realize the Medici Effect – and turn their 21st Century World into the Renaissance of 16th and 17th Century Florence? Are we encouraging our coaching clients to embrace a more Cosmopolitan perspective and then accepting a more Cosmopolitan perspective on the part of the experts to whom they turn?
It is appropriate and timely to point out the many pitfalls and potholes associated with any evidence- based initiatives. The backlash against both evidence-based medicine and evidence-based psychotherapy is something more than just knee-jerk responses of reactionaries and recalcitrants who oppose any intrusion into their professional autonomy or any challenge to their deeply entrenched practices. The backlash also uncovers some very important cautionary notes regarding the collection of data about complex human service practices. In this essay I will identify some of these cautionary notes and suggest ways in which the pitfalls and potholes associated with this type of information gathering can best be addressed.
The Challenge—Gathering Information Regarding a Nested Problem
I begin by exploring the general challenge: human behavior typically operates in complex systems that are highly dynamic and not easy to assess or analyze (particularly regarding causal relationships). I propose that the assessment of a specific human-based process or event is what I describe as a nested problem. A problem is an issue that does not have a simple or single answer (as is the case with a puzzle). It is multi-disciplinary in nature: many different perspectives can be taken in viewing and seeking to analyze a problem. Furthermore, there are often competing (and even contradictory) goals associated with a problem. Polarities are prevalent and paradox is found in abundance when seeking to understand and successfully address a problem.
Nested problems are even more challenging, for there are typically several problems embedded in a nested problem that contribute to the “bigger problem.” For instance, in the field of medicine, there are economic issues (problems) regarding the tradeoff (polarity) of costs and quality of care that are nested in the broader issue (problem) of formulating an equitable and sustainable public policy regarding the provision of health care. There are additional issues (problems) nested inside the public policy problem that concern the acceptance of risk regarding new medical procedures: a polarity existing between the value of being sure a new medical procedure is safe and the value of accelerating approval of new procedures so that afflicted patients can receive the most advanced medical care.
Gathering Information in a “Messy” and Rugged Environment
The world in which most experts (and many professional coaches) work is quite “messy.” Another term that is sometimes used to describe this world is “wicked.” This world doesn’t become less “messy” or less “wicked” just because the expert remains in only one of C. P. Snow’s two cultures. There is great confusion within the 21st Century world of science—and within the 21st Century world of the humanities. It might actually be a bit less messy and wicked if folks from one culture listened to those from the other culture. Bridges can be of value and professional coaches can help to build these bridges.
What specifically does it mean for an environment to be messy or wicked? It means that this world is filled with the nested problems I identified earlier in this essay. It also means that everything in this world is interconnected with everything else in this world. John Miller and Scott Page (2007) describe this world as a complex system—and they contrast it with a complicated system. A complicated system is one which has many parts—but the parts all work in isolation from one another. A complex system is one in which all or most of the parts are interrelated and inter-dependent. Scott Page (2011) also uses the metaphor of landscape when describing complex system. He would suggest that complex systems closely resemble rugged landscapes (such as those found in the Appalachian Mountains) where there are many peaks and valleys.
Experts in both the sciences and humanities work in a rugged landscape: it is not clear when one is at the highest peak or whether one is moving in the correct direction toward some goal (given the many hills and valleys that must be traversed). In this type of environment, there are no simple solutions, and it is not even clear when one has been successful, given that there are multiple goals (peaks) and many ways to get from the current position to one of the desired goals (peaks). Those who work in messy and wicked world suggest that it is very hard to assess progress in such a world. I think Scott Page would agree.
Not only are the people with whom an expert is working likely to be operating in this type of messy, wicked and rugged environment, they are likely during their coaching sessions to ask their coaches to focus in particular on the challenges of complexity inherent in this type of environment. Coaches aren’t brought in to help a client solve simple puzzles that have clear goals achieved through the application of existing skills (though both the client and coach might hope this is the case). Rather experts are often brought in to help recipients of their expertise prioritize multiple (and often conflicting) goals, navigate through rugged terrains and acquire new skills needed to meet the often-shifting challenges (Page refers to landscapes that are not only rugged but also dancing!).
Given the prevalence of these messy environments, how does one assess the extent to which a specific expert has offered credible perspectives or advice? If everything is linked with everything else in a complex environment, how does one determine whether or not action taken on specific expert advice has made a difference? Many other factors may have contributed to the success (or failure) either independently or (more often) in connection with the expert-based intervention. What constitutes “evidence” in a messy environment? How does one sort through relevant data from the “noise” of a rugged and dancing landscape? In this essay I will address the issue of nested problems and messy environments by asking: (1) who is sitting at the table, (2) what is the nature and size of the sample being studied, and (3) what is the nature of the information gathering methodologies being used. These fundamental issues must be addressed prior to any considerations regarding use of the evidence—for the evidence will only be influential if it is credible and the resulting expertise is likely to be either questioned or accepted in a naïve and potentially damaging manner.
Who is Sitting at the Table?
There is a revolution (or at least a readjustment) going on in the field of applied economics, especially as it begins to interact with the fields of cognitive psychology and neurobiology. This revolution often goes by the name, “behavioral economics,” and it is based in part on recognition that traditional economic theory, with an emphasis on rational decision-making and self- correcting economic dynamics, is to be challenged. (Ariely, 2008; Kahneman, 2011) One of the key points made by the behavioral scientists is that the criteria for assessing outcomes may be more important than the actual assessment that is being done.
They write about the processes being engaged to determine the criteria (often focusing on seemingly irrational process such as the use of irrelevant “anchor points” to determine judgmental criteria). The behavioral economics scientists also note at an even more basic level, that it is important to identify the participants in any decision-making group that is formed to determine the criteria. For instance, who determines criteria for identifying the economic health of a country or the level of social equity or prosperity in the country (leading some behavioral economists to challenge the use of GNP as a primary criterion)? Who is left out of the discussion and decision-making process, and, in turn, what values and perspectives are ignored during this process?
We can probe even deeper: what is the rationale for the decisions that are made and what biases operate in establishing this rationale? What are the vested interests that operate among those establishing the criteria? Doesn’t the rationale that is being used have a major influence on the criteria being established and determination of a program’s success based on these criteria? Do not the vested interests, values and perspectives of those at the table have a major impact on the assessment of outcomes? Is evidence ever gathered and interpreted in a neutral manner?
Though she is focusing on numbers, a recommendation made by Deborah Stone (2021, p. 45) is equally valid when applied to words and narratives:
The best way I know to find out whether a measure is valid is to travel back to the moment of creation and nose around. Who was in the room where it happened? Who was asking the questions and what did they think to ask about? Who got to say what “counts as” the thing being counted?
As the chaos theorist had previously noted, the initial conditions surrounding any process or event plays a long-term determinative role. Those of us operating in the world of psychology have also suggested that early life experiences tend to hang around throughout one’ life as ghosts and goblins that are only partially exorcised by psychotherapy, reality (ego functions) or societal norms and regulations (super-ego functions).
Where is the Expert Sitting?
What about the challenges faced by those gathering information and serving as experts? Are not some people and perspectives absent from the table? If return-on-investment is identified as a key criterion for determining the success of coaching programs, then how is “investment” defined and what does “return” mean? Are both terms defined primarily in financial terms? If this is the case, then are some outcomes being devalued or even ignored? Are there important investments other than money that must be taken into account? It is not just a matter of expanding “investment” to include time spent and facilities engaged, it is also the investment of hope and the price paid by loss or regret. How do we take these into account?
If we reframe the criteria and speak of “return-on-expectations” we may be bringing more people to the table, but at the same time we may be making assessment even more difficult and increasing the intrusion of biases and preconceptions. The world gets messier or at least the mess that is already there becomes more apparent. What are we going to do about this challenge and what would a process of determining criteria for establishing evidence look like when many people are invited to the table—bringing with them diverse perspectives and values? Many behavioral economists propose that this diversity brings more creativity to the table (Page, 2011; Johansson, 2004; Kahneman, 2011). The key question is: do we need creativity when we are trying to build the foundation for evidence-based coaching? Are clarity and consensus more important?
Wither Comes the Information?
If there is clarity regarding the criteria to be used in the gathering of information, then the next central question concerns the people from whom the information is collected. This question, in turn, breaks down into two parts. First, how many people will be studied? Second, who specifically will participate in this study?
The issue of quantity is very important, for someone gathering information and someone serving as an expert can’t have it both ways. If the study is to be quantitative in nature, then the sample size must be large; if the study is to be qualitative in nature, then the sample size can be much smaller, but the information gathering itself must be intensive and in- depth regarding each person being studied. All too often, the sample size is small even though quantitative measures are being used. We see many coaching studies that yield conclusions based on much too small a sample size (under 50), even though the measures being taken are quantitative, superficial and often one-dimensional (for example, based only on self- ratings of satisfaction with the coaching process or supervisor’s ratings of the coaching client’s improvement in performance).
Later in this essay I will identify multiple methods of data collection and propose that three or more different methods should be used in any broad-based study of coaching practices. At the very least, larger sample sizes should be required – pointing to the value of collaborative information gathering strategies involving multiple coaches, coaching firms and organizations that use coaching services (I will have more to say about this in my Issue Three essay).
The small-scale quantitative information gathering project will rarely yield credible data. Without major funding, isolated projects are usually a waste of time. On the other hand, the small and highly focused qualitative study is feasible—even without major financial support. The project, often framed as a case study, can be quite valuable, though it is important (and should be obvious) that definitive conclusions regarding evidence of coaching effectiveness can’t be generated from these studies. The focus of qualitative studies should be placed on trying to understand the nature of specific coaching practices, rather than on trying to demonstrate that specific coaching practices are effective.
Both information gathering goals are very important. It is not enough to know that coaching does work. It is also important to understand why certain kinds of coaching work when addressing specific kinds of coaching issues. No one qualitative study will successfully address the second of these two questions, but each study helps—particularly if framed by a shared coaching taxonomy (or at least shared language regarding coaching strategies and practices).
The other big challenge is to identify participants in the information gathering project. Do we study both the coaches and the clients—as well as others impacted by the coaching process? Many years ago, the famous psychotherapy, Irvin Yalom, conducted a study in which both he, as psychotherapist, and his patient wrote in their journal after each session regarding their shared psychotherapy experiences. Yalom (1991) discovered that the accounts written down by himself, as therapist, and his client were quite different. I suspect that the same holds true for the coach and client. They are likely to identify quite different points in a human-based process or event as being important and may even convey quite different stories about what happened at a specific moment. Perhaps most importantly, they are likely to use quite different criteria in determining the level of success and the outcomes of any one step in the process or any one component of the event.
If one is at all interested in a broader assessment of the impact which a specific process or event has had, then the data sources must be expanded to include those who indirectly benefit from this process or event. I return to the concept of the complex environment in which most human based processes and events takes place. The environment is complex (and not just complicated) because everything is connected to everything else. Thus, information gathering must eventually address these broader, systemic issues. Evidence of impact must extend beyond the boundaries of the immediate process of event being studied. The behavioral economists push even deeper into the issue of information sources (e.g. Kahneman, 2011). They suggest that we often change the question we are posing when we either don’t like the answer to our original question or can’t find an adequate answer. We narrow our assessment because we don’t want to know about what is really happening—especially when what is really happening is outside of our control.
Gathering the Information: Numbers and Words
What measurement tools do we use? Can we also listen to what people say, observe what people do, read what people have written, and review other human accomplishments and artifacts? Must source of information come only from the realm of science? Must they be based in research-based measurement and calculations? Might they also come from the humanities with narratives, history and scholarship being engaged? This search for diversity of information sources is the next major challenge which we face in assessing a process or event—especially one that is human-based.
Admittedly, the tools are often predetermined. The information gathering question is often framed or reframed in a manner that presupposes the use of specific tools. We may even change the information gathering question on occasion to conform to the restraints of a specific measurement tool. At other times, a specific tool is quickly selected, setting aside the question of which tools might be most appropriate and even more importantly what occurs when a single tool is employed. I am not alone in suggesting that effective information gathering dealing with a complex phenomenon such as professional coaching should deploy more than one measurement tool—preferably at least three tools. This three-fold approach—often called triangulation—is a classic in the annuals of information gathering methodology. (e.g. Merriam, 2009) In fact, this three-fold approach is often identified not just with the use of three or more measurement tools, but also with the use of three or more sources of information.
This multi-source/multi-method approach is clearly quite demanding regarding both resource requirements (time, money, etc.) and the need for careful planning. This demanding approach, however, is worth the effort given the valuable outcomes that can be obtained. When only one measurement tool is used, the method of information collection itself can influence the system being studied. If two sources are used, those gathering the information risks obtaining contradictory information based in part on differing methodological biases. There is no clear-cut way to resolve these differences. Three or more sources of information allow for constructive resolution of these discrepancies. Typically, at least two of the three (or more) sources will yield similar information, or, at least, common themes. If all three information sources yield discrepant data, it is evident that the system being studied is complex, contradictory and in need of broader investigation.
Specifically, if we don’t use a multi-source/multi-method approach then we don’t know if we are generating unbiased information from our single source (coach, client or supervisor) and we don’t know if we are obtaining information about the impact of our single measurement tool on the people we are studying or are obtaining information about the people themselves and the coaching process. For instances, if we only conduct interviews then we might be discovering something about the fear factor: how much do the subjects of our study want to reveal about what is really happening in the process being studied? A study about organizational fear is important, but it doesn’t tell us much about what is really happening in the coaching sessions. Similarly, a questionnaire when used exclusively, may tell us quite a bit about the way that respondents assess the process when given a chance to rate the process using categories and criteria formulated by someone else, but these results tell us very little about how the engagement is actually being perceived. A so-called “phenomenological” perspective cannot be gained from the use of questionnaires, just as generalized conclusions can rarely be generated from the exclusive use of interviews.
While a multi-method study can be logistically challenging, numerous methods are available to those gathering information. I propose that at least ten different methods for are widely available: (1) interviews, (2) observation, (3) participant- observation, (4) archival (document) review, (5) unobtrusive measurement, (6) obtrusive measurement (participant-observation of reactivity), (7) performance reviews, (8) questionnaires, (9) critical incident checklists and (10) general information about comparable problems and programs. Those gathering information are limited only by time and creativity in their use of these information collection tools.
Interviews
Interviewing is one of most widely used and generally appropriate methods of information collection. Interviews can be conducted individually or in small groups. Sometimes they are open ended: the interviewees’ responses to initial questions (which usually are determined ahead of time) dictate the nature and scope of later questions. At other times, the questions all might be specified prior to the interview. Interviews can be conducted in person, by telephone, by email or even via social media. A random sampling of attitudes and perceptions about coaching can also be conducted with limited time and personnel using polling techniques.
Observation
An effective information gathering initiative will often make extensive use of observation when the opportunity is available. Though observations are time consuming and often bump up against the issue of confidentiality, they provide rich insights into the real workings of the process or event being studied. If nothing else, one might observe continuing projects or events that reflect on the milieu of the setting in which the process or event is taking place (for example, spontaneous activities, award celebrations or special events).
Participant-Observation
In some instances, someone gathering information might deem it useful to assume a participant-observer role by becoming actively involved in some event related to the process of event being studied. The participant-observer records not only what she has observed but also her personal reactions to participation in the event.
Archival (Document) Review
Someone gathering information in a systematic and comprehensive manner usually can request copies of pertinent documents regarding the process or event being studies. Some documents should be read carefully, especially those concerning goals, policies and outcomes related to the problem or need that precipitated the initiation of the process or event. Additional documents can be reviewed quickly for broad themes and particularly unique or contradictory perceptions or recommendations.
Unobtrusive Measures
Other types of information found in activity records (for example, schedule of appointments, budgets, evaluation forms and related archival sources) are of value, even if they do not have to do directly with the convening problem—for archival sources of information tend to be nonreactive or unobtrusive. The collection of this information will not disrupt or influence the continuing process or event. Contracts, minutes from important planning meetings, and even the informal stories (and jokes) about the process or event are of comparable value. These unobtrusive measures tend to be descriptively rich and persuasive. They reveal something about the “real life” of the process or event being studied
Obtrusive Measures
The reactions to certain data collection procedures are also of some benefit, for these reactions tell much about not only the process or event, but also broader environmental dynamics (the nature of the rugged or dancing landscape in which the process or event is taking place). For instance, the way in which an information gatherer is introduced and provided with an orientation and appropriate support services may be indicative of the level of support for a specific process or event in the organization. Similarly, to the extent that collection of information disrupts the flow of work when observing it, one can infer (with confirming evidence from other sources) that there is no precedent for peer observation and probably strong attitudes supporting autonomy. Such information has value when interpreting the apparent success or failure of a program to influence behavior. The response of people to the current initiative or to previous information gathering initiatives is indicative of attitudes, goals and receptivity to change. The obtrusive event serves as litmus paper. It helps in preparing a map of the landscape.
Performance Reviews
Various psychometric devices should also be available to someone studying specific processes or events. Performance reviews by supervisors, peers or others in the organization (often in the form of 360-degree feedback processes) can be used to determine relative levels of achievement in a specific area. Similarly, the performance of those engaging a process or conducting an event can be rated by the users of the process or those attending the event as well as other key stakeholders. It is often particularly valuable for this rating to be done by accessing multiple sources: the clients, the coaches and the stakeholders.
Questionnaires
A second psychometric device, the questionnaire, is used almost as frequently as interviews. Sometimes those gathering information will design and distribute a questionnaire that specifically focuses on the process or event being used in a specific setting. At other times, a standard questionnaire is used to cut down on design time or to compare one institution or program with others. A questionnaire can take many different forms: multiple choice, checklist, true-false, matching, scalar, short answer, or open ended.
In recent years, situational-descriptive questionnaires have become more popular. The respondent is presented with a specific description of a situation and asked to indicate which of several responses is most (and least) likely. For example, a study regarding specific strategies can make use of a questionnaire that identifies a specific coaching issue (such as responding to a difficult subordinate) and then lists several different ways this issue can be addressed. The questionnaire respondents rank order and/or rate each of the alternative responses as to their frequency of use (or desirability) as a coaching strategy. Rich insights can be gained if all those involved complete the questionnaire. Respondents also can be asked to predict how they think other people will respond (coaches, clients, supervisors, organizational leaders, etc.). Used in this way, the questionnaire reveals the respondent’s expectations regarding the coaching process. The respondent is not being asked to evaluate probable responses, but only to predict what they will be.
Critical Incident Checklist
A third psychometric device is closely related to the situational-descriptive questionnaire. Through use of critical incident checklists, a respondent is asked to indicate how frequently a specific activity is generally found to be critical to a specific outcome or more broadly the success or failure of a client or organization in addressing a specific type of (messy) problem. An indication of its relative frequency of occurrence can be of considerable value in coming to a fuller understanding regarding the dynamic interplay between a specific strategy and the needs of a client or organization.
General Information
The tenth source of information resides in the memory of the information gatherer as well as in the memory of others participating in this initiative. This is the general knowledge one has acquired about the process or event being studied (and about the dynamics of systems in general). One need not direct this knowledge only to the specific process or event being studied.
This is also a source of information that might require the engagement of scholarship along with the other nine research-based sources. Information about nationwide or regional trends, new funding priorities, different models, and related perspectives and practices can be thrown into the hopper along with information about the system in which the study is taking place. The general knowledge can be used as a signal. When information-gathering methods generate data that are discrepant not only with information from other sources in the life of the individual client or organization, but also with general trends regarding this type of client or organization, they should be viewed skeptically, though not necessarily dismissed.
Conclusions
The analysis of these preliminary nested problems and messy environments can point the way to effective information-gathering strategies and provide us with an opportunity to be optimistic about the potential for evidence-based expertise. I hope that you exit this essay with a clearer sense of the challenges inherent in this multi-tasking information gathering process and with some ideas about how nested problems can be effectively addressed and messy environments can be navigated on behalf of valid and useful expertise.
In this essay I have explored the interplay between two cultures—beginning with our apparent contemporary embrace of the scientific culture (and numbers). I have then moved to a similar exploration of the second (humanities) culture, with a focus on the semantic and syntactic use of words. I have suggested ways in which these two cultures can be brought together in a cosmopolitan perspective on the world in which we live and in which members of our society serve as experts. I have written about the underlying need for a broader catchment field (regarding information) and about ways to broaden this catchment area (especially when gathering information about human-based processes and events). I reiterate what I suggested at the start of this essay: Cosmopolitan expertise residing at the middle of an intersection can be of great value in our mid-21st Century world.
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