Hanging Around CSG/PCT

I've just caught up on all the CSG Digests since the Boston bash. I
thought I'd offer up a few comments from the perspective of one of those
who kind of hangs around CSG and PCT... No particular rhyme or reason to
them; just reactions to what I've read...

I don't place much stock in theories. They are explanation and
justification (both of which can be handy at times) and I suppose (not
being a scientist) that they also point out direction and serve other
useful purposes, too. I'm more interested in reliable applications. But,
unlike Rick Marken's view, I don't hew to any particular explanation of
what works so I don't much care if there's a competing or conflicting theory.

So, suppose I have a really good application (e.g., a well-defined approach
to negotiating performance objectives) that consistently, reliably yields
higher levels of performance across the members of a work group than
anything else around. Suppose, further, that one explanation of the
success of this "application" is loosely rooted in PCT and tied to the
notion that you can't really control other people so, instead of dictating
performance objectives and using coercive measures to attain them, you're
better off negotiating objectives (and the consequences that adhere to
them). Suppose, even further, that a competing (although not necessarily
conflicting) explanation is that this is "just good management
practice." In my world, someone is likely to say, "Who gives a ----!" The
question is, Does it work? (And that implies consistently, reliably, across
situations, etc, etc.)

I suspect that one reason lots of managers and execs wouldn't care much for
PCT is that it tells them they can't control other people. From long years
of experience, they know better. What's at the center of this is the
meaning of "control." As an exec, can I muster the energies and talents of
people and then channel them along certain predetermined lines? You
betcha! Can I do that in a fail safe, 100% guaranteed way? Nope. But
then that's not the claim being made for "control" in this situation. As I
sit here at my PC, sipping coffee, noting with some amusement the kind of
PCT-based control mechanisms that are involved in grasping and lifting the
cup to my lips and taking a sip of coffee, then setting the cup back down,
I think I can see a connection (dim though it might be) between PCT and
some as yet undefined principles for instructional design related to
physical skills (e.g., typing, equipment operators, etc.). The connections
between PCT and more cerebral occupations like a brand manager or a
research scientist are dimmer still (although I'm sure they're
there). Where does that take me? To the distinction between individual
and collective effort, of course.

Lots of execs, managers, trainers, HR professionals, etc, etc, long ago
gave up on the efficacy, practicality and utility of "control" at the level
of the individual. After all, Peter Drucker told them about the shift to
knowledge work and the impossibility of controlling the knowledge worker
(whose work goes on inside the head where it can't be seen and thus can't
be supervised) and they, of course, believed him because he is, after all,
Peter Drucker. They opted for control at the team and process levels. But
the smart ones aren't trying to control people, they're trying to control
work, performance, the process or whatever but not the people.

My own attitude toward B:CP (and the PCT it sets forth) ever since I first
came across it in 1975 is simple enough: "There's gotta be a pony in there
somewhere!" It's a much better explanation of individual human behavior
than anything else I've come across. But I'm darned if I'm able to build a
tool kit out of it. I do have one small example/illustration that I
frequently find useful in introducing people to the notion of reference
conditions or -- as they often respond: "standards." It goes like
this. Lots of tasks are production tasks, that is, they involve an end
product, be it a memo, a chunk of software code, a PowerPoint presentation
or a cabinet. It stands to reason that the person producing this product
has to know when he (or she) is done and whether or not the task has been
completed properly (i.e., the product meets spec). Without this reference
condition or standard, there is simply no way the task could be properly
completed (except through chance or luck). So, one of the things you have
to do in training people to perform these kinds of tasks is develop in them
the ability to discriminate acceptable from unacceptable end
product. Everyone usually agrees. (Some few say, "So what?", we've known
that for years.) My goal in these discussions is to gain acceptance of the
notion of some kind of reference condition or standard as an element at
work in performance. That's usually as far as I get because once people
grasp the notion of reference conditions or standards as the basis of
control at the individual level, and see how individual behavior adapts and
adjusts to satisfy that standard under varying conditions (e.g., driving a
car, sipping coffee, etc.) they also usually see right away that, for
practical management purposes, two factors are critical: shared standards
and mutual commitment to those standards. (Please, please don't anyone
tell me that there can't be any such thing as 'shared' standards because,
although that might be true from a purely theoretical/technical
perspective, as a purely practical matter it's eminently doable.)

Anyway, although I tune out from time to time, I do keep loose tabs on the
CSG discussion and, from time to time (like now), I join back in. After
all, there's a pony in there somewhere.

I didn't go to the Boston bash. That's a reasonably fair statement of
fact. Why? Well, there we get off on that shaky, shifting ground known as
explanation/theory/justification. I don't know why I didn't go. By that,
I mean I can't articulate the reference conditions that were at work that
wound up with me doing other things instead. I could say that I had more
pressing matters to tend to. I could also say that I couldn't afford it
(which would be a lie, so I won't, although I can easily imagine other
circumstances in which I'd happily lie and quite convincingly, too). In
discussions with myself about whether to go or not (held right up until the
last moment), two things cropped up: (1) I didn't think I'd get a whole lot
out of going (except tying names to faces) and (2) I was convinced I had
nothing to contribute. So, I didn't go.

In parlance drawn from another area, CSG strikes me as a Community of
Practice. In that parlance, I'm what is known as a member on the
periphery, a kind of hanger-on, an observer of sorts. So why do I hang
around? Because there's a pony in there somewhere and it's much more than
just a better explanation or a more elegant theory; sooner or later it's
bound to cough up some useful tools that mere mortals can put to good use.

Lastly, I suspect the reason some people go away is that they find CSG
discussions a bit punishing. My own conclusion is that they're too
thin-skinned for rough-and-tumble (that's a metaphor for lacking the
courage of their convictions) or they simply do some kind of cost-benefit
calculation and check out as not worth it. Are they being driven off? I
don't think so. However, by and large, the discussions on CSG are not for
lightweights nor pantywaists.

···

--

Fred Nickols
The Distance Consulting Company
"Assistance at A Distance"
http://home.att.net/~nickols/distance.htm
nickols@att.net
(609) 490-0095

[From Bill Powers (2000.08.06.0704 MDT)]

Fred Nickols (2000.08.06)--

Great post, Fred. I disagree with much of it, but you have made your point
clearly and well.

I don't place much stock in theories. They are explanation and
justification (both of which can be handy at times) and I suppose (not
being a scientist) that they also point out direction and serve other
useful purposes, too.

There are theories and theories. Theories of behavior have been around a
long time, and they are just what you say they are. Maybe they supply some
justification and direction, but usually you can ignore them without
missing much.

But there are other kinds of theories. Consider the theory of electronics.
If your TV breaks down, you might be able to fix it by looking for
something broken or burned and replacing it, but aside from that you'd be
helpless without a schematic and an understanding of the theory that
explains how the TV set and all its subsystems work. The theory tells you
how the various parts _should_ work, and it enables you to deduce, from the
way the set does (or doesn't) work just what has gone wrong with it. With
that kind of theoretical understanding, a TV repairman can just about offer
a money-back guarantee that he will return your TV in working order.

The world is full of theories that make a huge difference in our ability to
deal with the real world; without good theories that really work well,
there would be no such thing as electronics or optics or chemistry or space
flight or automotive engine design or sewage treatment or efficient
agriculture or racing yachts or razor blades that stay sharp or ... well,
you get the idea.

The problem is that we haven't had any good theories about how human beings
and other organisms work, so our understanding of how to deal with them is
still primitive trial-and-error stuff. There is enormous human sadness,
discontent, hostility, and misery in the world, even in the most prosperous
of countries, and we don't have a clue about what's causing it or how to
cure it. Our beliefs set us at each other's throats, but we don't know how
to stop believing, or change our beliefs into something constructive. We
follow social and cultural customs that guarantee conflict among people,
yet are frightened by the idea of doing anything differently. If our
children tell us, by behaving in bizarre and violent ways, that we are
doing something wrong, we dope them up or lock them up. We choke on each
other's waste products, but can't seem to slow down our mad rush to
reproduce.

All the technological problems of the world have been solved far beyond our
actual current needs. Almost every problem that remains is a psychological
problem. And psychology is simply not up to the job. We desperately need a
real theory of human behavior, one that actually explains how people work
and offers some hope of not just explaining, but fixing our problems. Is
PCT that theory? Well, with about half a dozen people working on it while
half a thousand watch them, and five billion ignore them, we won't find out
for a considerable time if that is so. I certainly won't be around to see
it happen, or not happen.

Best,

Bill P.

[From Rick Marken (2000.08.06.1030)]

Fred Nickols (2000.08.06) --

I suspect that one reason lots of managers and execs wouldn't
care much for PCT is that it tells them they can't control other
people.

Maybe _you_ tell them that, but PCT certainly doesn't tell them
that.

As an exec, can I muster the energies and talents of people
and then channel them along certain predetermined lines?

A far better question would be "as an exec, can I muster the
decency to take on the order of 1.2 (rather than on the order
of 120) times the pay of the people whose energies and talents
are far more crucial to the success of this company than I am".

My own attitude toward B:CP (and the PCT it sets forth) ever
since I first came across it in 1975 is simple enough: "There's
gotta be a pony in there somewhere!"

Like that fellow in _The Magnificent Seven_ who was convinced
that the mission to save the peasant village was really about
gold (when the mission itself was the real "gold"), you may remain
convinced until your dying day that the PCT mission to understand
human nature is really just a cover for the pony of figuring
out how to squeeze greater productivity (and, hence, profit)
out of people. But you'll recall that the other members of the
Magnificent Seven were glad to have the "gold seeking" fellow
helping out on the mission, even if he was helping in the noble
work for ignoble reasons, becuase he was a hell of a good gun
fighter (or samurai, if you prefer the Japanese original). So
welcome aboard, Fred, as long as you want to stay. (And, yes,
there really is a pony hidden in that PCT box; as pretty a pony
as you'll ever see; a Kentucky Derby winner; solid gold).

Best

Rick

···

--
Richard S. Marken Phone or Fax: 310 474-0313
Life Learning Associates e-mail: marken@mindreadings.com
mindreadings.com