The Extraordinary
Potential of Knowledge Management by Seth Kahan published in Knowledge
Management, October 2001 Storytelling
has existed for centuries as a way of sharing knowledge and developing a sense
of community. Here, Seth Weaver Kahan details his own story in an attempt to demonstrate
the power of the technique, and to explore the greater contribution knowledge
management might make beyond the world of business. Is
knowledge management something extraordinary? I have noticed a remarkable verve
among many of my KM colleagues that extends beyond ordinary enthusiasm. There
is a feeling of being involved in a grand adventure that mixes humanity and professional
development, as if KM is a space where business could potentially be more than
just business. Let me elaborate by starting with a story – not a case study, but
a fable. Once
Upon a Time… A spaceship lands on earth inhabited by benevolent, highly
intelligent creatures. Somehow they make it through our atmosphere without rousing
the military and land on our soil. A call goes out around the world and the best
minds of our generation are assembled to greet the aliens in person. One
of the aliens steps down out of the spaceship and after gracious formalities begins
the conversation: “Earthling humans, you have been a species on this planet for
thousands of years. What is your greatest discovery? What can you share with us
that will demonstrate what you have learnt?” A
world leader who is, of course, intimately familiar with knowledge management,
steps forward and responds: “Our knowledge is our prize possession. Our highly
developed brains are capable of synthesising ideas and experience. For many years
we have been concerned with how to pool our collective knowledge, how to organise,
manage and share it. We have spent a great deal of time on how to cultivate our
tacit knowledge and apply it in healthy and productive ways.” The
alien speaks: “So, what can you show us? Can you explain or demonstrate what you
have learnt?” The
world leader says: “Well, the truth is we have about 7,000 different initiatives
and the leaders of our primary efforts don’t agree on what knowledge management
is or even if we should call it that; maybe it should be knowledge sharing or
knowledge development...or...er...” As
it stands, the story doesn’t have a satisfactory ending. But maybe something can
be done about that. Maybe, just maybe, all the various knowledge management initiatives
could be brought into some kind of global framework. The
Power of Meaning Some of the best minds of our time believe we influence
the world to a much greater degree than most of us are aware. That is, the way
we think and what we believe about the ways of the world have a major impact on
our future. This is because we are active participants shaping the future through
the ordinary actions of our lives. David Bohm, the quantum physicist, wrote in
his book, Unfolding Meaning (Routledge, 1985): “Your world view, the way you look
at things, is part of you, just as any other thought is part of you. It will determine
the way you approach the world… What kind of world will that produce?”
Bohm continues:
“However deep or shallow one’s perceptions, all one perceives is what it means
at that moment, and then intention and action develop in accordance with this
meaning.” What
he is saying here is that meaning shapes perception in fundamental ways. Therefore,
meaning is radically important. How do we begin to understand how we create meaning?
Can we consciously fashion meaning? Isn’t it interesting that most of us are not
trained in how best to do this? Many of us receive little guidance on how to create
meaning intentionally. And we certainly don’t devote significant time to it in
the workplace. Yet it is shaping our perception and our future. I
am fortunate enough to have come from a family where values were demonstrated
and obvious, if not explicit and discussed. For example, I can remember as a small
boy my father reacting angrily to a neighbour who referred to some people down
the road using a derogatory racial term. My father’s temper blew hot. After angrily
denouncing our neighbour to his face, which caught and held my attention, he huffed
and puffed as he marched around our house decrying prejudice and insensitivity.
I got the message and still remember it today: people are people and diminishing
them according to their race is unacceptable. But
no one sat down and helped me as my little mind worked overtime to integrate that
experience into the rest of my life. In fact, other than occasional sessions with
family and school counsellors during my childhood, personal meaning was never
directly addressed in any consistent way. I was left to my own experience and
my own ad hoc techniques. I
recall philosophy teachers in high school and later in college purposefully refraining
from dictating any values. They often asked me to reflect, but did they provide
direction on specific values? Only by modelling, not by articulation. In fact,
it was generally frowned upon as far as I could tell. Somehow I was expected to
do my own values clarification in the company of my friends and with whatever
books I could lay my hands on. I have an idea that a large part of the self-help
industry thrives because of this unmet need in society. I
subsequently sought out those who were moving their lives in new directions by
locating deeper and often hidden meaning through introspection. I found many in
‘personal growth’ or ‘human potential’ organisations. One seminar company in particular
grabbed my attention (and my money and my time). I participated in as many of
their events as I could, volunteering as a way to spend more time at the seminars.
I loved to do the work myself, but I was also fascinated by watching others go
through their own inner processes. I found it moving to see people grapple with
issues, uncovering parts of themselves that brought clarity of vision and inspiring
changes in behaviour. It was like watching flowers unfold and emerge in beautiful
patterns of colour and shape. Eventually
I was offered a staff position with the seminar company building the graduate
community, and offering follow up seminars. I was trained in the design and facilitation
of large group events and gained plenty of experience. I stayed with this work
for years before something ancient and primal began to rouse my curiosity.
Ancient Templates
for Building Community I became intrigued by how some of the world’s
oldest cultures ensured continuity between generations. I started to read about
aborigines and indigenous peoples; then I began to visit some native American
Indian elders, representatives of cultures that have endured a great deal. I turned
to them for wisdom about what was most important in life. I
was especially interested in rites of passage, designed to carry individuals on
the journey from childhood to adulthood. These ceremonies are a form of social
infrastructure designed to transform people from dependent youngsters into mature
contributors who take responsibility for the community’s well being. The transformation
involves long, complicated processes that include many members of a community,
only culminating in a ceremony. I
did not belong to a tribe so I could not hope to truly participate in a native
American ceremony. However, I discovered there are people who study how to appropriately
introduce these ceremonies into the mainstream. I set about looking for one of
these events that straddled the gap between the worlds, and I was not disappointed.
One of
the most ubiquitous ceremonies is the ‘sweat lodge’. I remember my first experience
vividly. For months I had been putting the word out that I wanted to participate
in this ancient ritual designed to help one clarify life’s purpose. Then
one day, I received a call from a friend telling me he was leaving to participate
in a sweat lodge in the countryside. Would I care to come along? I dropped my
day’s agenda and soon found myself in his car, bumping through a farm field. We
parked on the grass and began a hike in the neighbouring woodlands. Before
long we came to a group of men busily assembling a small hut from saplings and
blankets. This was under the direction of a strange character, our leader, who
busied himself in obscure activities that included waving burning sticks of dried
sage and chanting. Soon we started a large bonfire. Twenty or so large boulders
were placed into the centre of the fire, where they stayed for four or five hours.
In the interim, I helped out with preparations and got to know the other people.
When the
time came we all crawled into the hut, which had a great hollow in the centre
where the rocks were to go. We stayed in that hut, all closely pressed together,
for over two hours and it got very, very hot. As each rock was brought in, I could
feel the temperature rise substantially. Following prayers and groans as a response
to the heat, water was poured on the rocks, resulting in some of the most intense
steam I have ever experienced, way beyond the sauna in my local gym. At several
points I had to lie down in the sweat lodge in the search of cooler temperatures.
The heat
was so intense that I became concerned for my safety, and therein was the doorway
that led to my core values. In a single, intense moment I became vividly aware
that my life was both precious and fragile. It was as if I had a chance to glimpse
death before my time was up. From deep within I began to question what was I doing
with my life. The issue became more than a mental hobby; it was a visceral occupation.
The sweat lodge had begun to work its magic. Toward
the end participants shared their experiences and insights. Veterans of the ceremony
explored these, especially the insights of the newcomers. The learning of the
initiates was pulled apart and examined closely, and treasures for the community
were discovered in the process. Later, as our story was recounted, these new treasures
were incorporated. For
years, even to this day, that ceremony holds a special place in my memories. It
anchors me to my quest seeking what is most centrally mine and at the same time
of value to my community. Back
to Work At the same time as all of this was happening I was working at
the World Bank, training staff to use the institutional technology systems: pro-
curement, project supervision, loan disbursement, etc. Over the years I became
a local expert on technology training. I tutored vice presidents, designed seminars
for project teams and ran open classes on many institutional programmes that relied
on technology. When
the internet became widely available I put together a presentation that I offered
during lunch and after hours to interested staff. It was a huge success. In six
months I had trained almost 2,000 staff members. I was videotaped for global distribution
and asked to design internet seminars for sector specialists. The bank’s fledgling
knowledge management initiative identified me and I was asked to put my group
facilitation skills on my CV and come along to help transform the institution.
I was a
member of the team that built the bank’s first knowledge management system. It
was based on new content management principles (in 1996) and used our intranet.
The following year I went to work for Steve Denning, our KM programme director,
and joined the small team that began to steer the large organisation to a new
destination under the president’s vision: the ‘knowledge bank’. Steve was aware
of my experiences outside the bank, including my many years as a performance artist
and storyteller. I
have been a professional storyteller, performing folk tales, legends and poetry
since 1978. Early on I performed folk tales from the Brothers Grimm and heroic
legends such as Beowulf and King Solomon’s Adventures. As my interest in community
development grew, I experimented with personal storytelling as a rapport-building
device in community gatherings. On the KM team, we recognised that the organisation
is largely defined by the activities of its employees. If staff members are not
sharing their learning process, the organisation is not growing. Our
team began to use storytelling as a means to break the ice in meetings. Denning
worked, with great success, at using storytelling to evoke systemic change in
the organisation. He developed ‘springboard’ stories (see his book, The Springboard:
How Storytelling Ignites Action in Knowledge-Era Organizations, Butterworth-Heinemann,
2001). I drew on the forms I had learned in personal growth settings and ceremonies
to develop processes for staff members to share their learning processes and interests.
We didn’t attempt to get people to understand storytelling. Instead, we used storytelling
as a tool to build community. I
began to receive requests to visit other organisations. In many companies, I spoke
about my work as a storyteller, experience in ceremonies and brought ceremonial
objects into the workplace, sharing my symbols of community. I still work with
a Cherokee ‘talking stick’, which symbolises the sharing of one’s ‘truth’. That’s
truth with a little t, not a big T – this truth is about personal understanding
and experience, not ultimate meaning. Symbols
such as the talking stick are powerful stimuli. This power can be harnessed in
the spirit of knowledge sharing quite effectively. I have used the talking stick
often to generate a shared sense of community and common purpose at gatherings.
Steve referred to my presentations as “turning suits into people”. That phrase
tells me that we are doing something special here, something fundamentally human
– something that involves caring. Who
Cares? When I think of community, three foci come to mind: groups of
people, a sense of shared purpose and caring. The first two are far easier to
realise in a business context, but the third is no less important. One
of the more helpful writings I have come across in this regard comes from Nonaka
and Nishiguchi’s recent book, Knowledge Emergence: Social, Technical and Evolutionary
Dimensions of Knowledge Creation (Oxford University Press, 2001). There is a chapter
by Von Krogh, Ichijo and Nonaka entitled: ‘Bringing care into knowledge development
of business organisations’. The
authors are very interested in human relationships inside organisations. “We believe
that knowledge development, especially social knowledge development, of organisations,
cannot be taken for granted since knowledge is very fragile in them. Since individual
knowledge can easily be killed, organisational knowledge development as a social
activity can be quite difficult, or in the worst case, impossible. Given this
fragility, we argue that relationships in organisations must be given more attention.”
Social
knowledge can be thought of as the common knowledge that resides among individuals,
in the common space of the organisation. This has important implications with
regards to an organisation’s ability to hold on to knowledge as significant numbers
of staff retire. To the extent that the knowledge of staff can be transferred
to the social space of the organisation, there is less of a loss to the company.
Furthermore,
the quality of caring that exists in the relationships inside the organisation
has a direct impact on the quality of knowledge that becomes social. In
the article the authors use the term ‘thematisation’ to explain how explicit knowledge
is developed (both individually and socially). In thematisation, “a language is
learnt, words are being carefully selected for an experience, this linguistic
choice is tested, misconceptions are corrected in interaction with others, new
words are being invented to better convey the experiences in the eyes of the individual,
and so on”. In
‘low care’ organisations, the process of thematisation tends to be a private activity.
Where it is not safe to share our foibles, we hide them and share results only
when we are confident they can withstand scrutiny. These contrast with ‘high care’
organisations in which thematisation is a shared, group process. All of the lessons
learnt and blind alleys are explored with others. We have the benefit of many
minds to participate in thematisation, producing higher quality results.
In addition, because
much of the groundwork of our thematisation is done in public in high care organisations,
many more people are aware of what was learnt in the process. Thus, more knowledge
is available in the organisation for others to use and apply. Importantly, it
remains there when staff members leave, thus addressing the issue of retention
of organisational knowledge. The
authors break ‘care’ into five explicit dimensions. The concept of care can be
vague, but their dimensions make it more tangible and much easier to apply. The
dimensions include: * A propensity to help * Accessibility in both time
and space for people to connect * Attentive inquiry, emotional and factual
* Lenience * Care as a shared value This work shows how care makes
a substantive contribution to knowledge development. More
than Just Business Ceremonies assist participants with their inner development.
The insights that arise from this development are shared with the community. These
new perspectives are examined and reworked by leaders who then weave the insights
into the existing social fabric. Values are not so much passed down as they are
developed jointly, adjusted and blessed by the accepted leadership, and then integrated
into the larger community. We
have a great deal to learn from these ancient ways of working together. I have
seen some of these time-tested methods of human interaction introduced in contemporary
business environments with great success. I can imagine bringing KM thought leaders
together and weaving the fruit of their explorations into our social fabric, generating
insights that apply to issues outside of business. As we study the myriad of ways
that people develop and share knowledge, perhaps there are applications greater
than business in store. Imagine
my story about the alien inquisition with a happy ending. The alien speaks: “So,
what can you show us? Can you explain or demonstrate what you have learnt?”
The world leader
replies with confidence and enthusiasm: “I was hoping you would ask that question.
Let me tell you about what our civilization has been working on...” Seth
Kahan is an Organizational Community Specialist, conference speaker and executive
consultant. He was recognized as a “Business Visionary” by the Center for Association
Leadership and serves as a Distinguished Fellow with the Center for Narrative
Studies. Copyright
2002 Seth Kahan. Reprint with attribution allowed.
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