The managerial-doctrinal lie of full efficiency, drawn from Fordism, implemented without care, and attenuating meaningful work, dominates to a substantial extent to this day. Even if organisations accept, or plan for, wasted time as inevitable, the dream of machine-like corporate productivity continues. Machines, however, ironically also require “down time” for maintenance purposes. No matter how hard an efficiency leader may try to limit wasted time, wasted time, nonetheless, persists. Quashed somewhere, it reconfigures in another place. The so-called “effective leader” would, in this line of thinking, pounce on such new wastes and refocus employees; such leadership becomes reactive vigilance rather than reflective guidance. Chronos tyrannises kairos at every corner where work tries turning the alchemic trick of wrangling efficient work from meaningful work.
2.1 General Complexity Theory
Seldom, when drawing on complexity theory, do authors frame the complexity they have in mind. Often, this masks deep epistemic commitments; it is therefore important that we play an open hand from the start. With complexity, here, is meant General Complexity and not Restricted Complexity. Restricted Complexity designates some systems as complex and others as complicated, while General Complexity sees all systems as complex at certain levels (Morin
2007, p. 10). Restricted Complexity and General Complexity include various additional internal complications and categorisations not relevant here. For our part, we will keep to General Complexity, with this exception: we borrow from Restricted Complexity the difference between
complicatedness and
complexity. Drawing on this distinction we can illuminate how classical models of business are different from newer ones prevalent in information and service industries.
Complexity suggests that social systems, such as human organisations, differ from complicated mechanistic assemblages, such as aeroplanes, in three important ways. First, the primary attribute of complex systems is
connections, while
information mark complicated systems (Cilliers
1998). For instance: although a mobile phone is very complicated, one can often troubleshoot a technical defect of a device with relative certainty; however, tracing a mobile phone maker’s loss of market share is much more difficult and much less predictable—it is
complex. An analysis of the latter must consider the
connections between multiple factors, and even then, no single answer may crystallise.
The second difference between complicated and complex systems, following from the first, is
memory management. Stagnant storage, as in a computer hard drive, marks complicatedness, whereas complexity’s memory remains
dynamic, akin to a brain. Like a brain, memory stored through connections give the memory of complexity its vibrancy. Repetition is the key to complexity’s retention; “use it or lose it” remains the hallmark of complex recollection (Cilliers
2016). Another quality of complex systems follows from this: a particular
slowness marks complex systems (Cilliers
2016).
Now, calcified memory means complicated systems can tunnel through their environment with rapidity, with little regard or sensitivity to that environment. Complex systems, however, always remain entangled within their surroundings. Such an entanglement means complex systems remain semi-permeable, even though they may identifiably be outlined. Evaluative processes then become necessary, considering the semi-permeability of complex systems. Memory provides such an outlining discernment. Slow integration of environmental changes through memory procedures gives complex system adaptability, while also making them longer-lasting though pliable. Complicated machines like cars, for example, on the other hand ignore large parts of their environment up until the point at which they break down.
As e Cunha and Rego (
2010, pp. 85–86) point out, many an organisation wants leaders to live in the gingerbread house of complexity, but they are at the same time encouraged to eat it with simplicity. Simplicity and complexity, however, are not the strangers one might assume. For instance, “fractals”
1 are complex patterns born from simplicity folding in on itself (Wheatley
2011, p. 273). The seeming paradox, then, is that simplicity and complexity can be partners. However, leaders often confuse complicatedness with complexity. Leadership in such circumstances becomes a question of information volume and speed: a
complicated problem, and not one of connection—hence a
complexity problem. As markets drift from an industrial economy to knowledge or service based economies, a leadership cohort that can manage the
volume and complexity of such information-rich environments, are key (Uhl-Bien et al.
2007, p. 299). Information, here, designates more than the overt and networked data-sea; it also covers the multifaceted intercultural and interdisciplinary meshes stirring underneath the social surface.
Such profound and occluded connections, then, are opportune only if leaders are comfortable with a short-term time expenditure for the sake of long-term creativity, stability and gain. Allowing for short-term wastage does, however, mean cultivating discipline. In brief, for
chronos to transmute into lasting
kairos, time and attentiveness, both as marks of ancient spiritualities, are required. Restraint from quick-turnaround strategies is of great importance as leaders find multiple organisational tools at their disposal designed simply to reduce wasted time. Email, online collaborative platforms, and infograms are only a few of the tools available to the contemporary managerial reductionist who focusses on efficiency alone. Although such instruments may carry the accurate label of “productivity suites,” in an ironic twist, their productivity sometimes undermine effectivity.
2 We will return to this point below to provide some examples.
To summarise: complexity means that the primary task of leadership is no longer to manage information, but rather to link the cluttered multiplicity. Of course, productivity tools are also helpful when searching for notable connections in the brute information haze. Their principal value, however, are as utilities for
administrative leadership, which manage the bureaucracies and ruling regimes which large organisations bring (Uhl-Bien et al.
2007, p. 307; Uhl-Bien and Marion
2009, pp. 631–650).
Administrative leadership however manages a different set of complexities than
adaptive leadership, which focuses on the implementation and inculcation of organisational culture.
3 One area adaptive leadership guides, perhaps without explicitly realising it, is the waste which complexity brings.
Indeed, leaders in any organisation should pause to reconsider “waste management.” Systems wading into the stormy waters of complexity produce superfluous communication, which in turn may leave the human actors confused and unfocused. Here, again, this contribution wants to marry complexity, simplicity and spirituality. We do this by considering time wastage, simplicity and the negative capabilities
4 key to
adaptive leadership. In the conclusion, we describe what
adaptive leadership can learn from spirituality.
2.2 Niches Within Complex Companies
An often-overlooked part of a complex system is the waste produced. As complexity in systems increase, so waste inevitably increases as well. Were we to forget this important part of complexity, we quickly fall into the trap of pretending that no waste exists. Leaders, then, only manage positive outcomes and are prone to forget about negative management. The best leaders, however, manage waste through discernment as complexity increases (Simpson et al.
2002; on the
modus operandi of discernment, cf. Waaijman
2013, pp. 13–24; applied to organisational context, cf. Bouckaert
2017, pp. 15–25).
What is meant by waste? As complexity increases, so too do connections increase. Increased communication, however, does not produce the utopia some would suggest (Angelopulo
2014). More links mean greater complexity, but it also means the possibility of needless communication, miscommunication and (where complexity is mistaken for complicatedness) the fear of communication. Waste management does not mean cutting out all possible wastefulness, for as stated above, there will always be some waste in a complex system. If cut off at one junction, it will reconfigure somewhere else. Leaders with deeply reflective capacities (“negative capability,” cf. Lombaard
2017, pp. 103–114) seek to understand how to manage such structured, incidental and angst-driven waste.
As businesses increase in complexity, needless communication is equally inevitable. A quick glance at most people’s email inbox will confirm how menial administrative tasks can distract one from one’s core business. No job advertisements, however, contain the requirement that one answers hundreds if not thousands emails each week, with many of these messages being superfluous. Large corporate meetings offer another example. Such gatherings tend to find yet another PowerPoint masterpiece that should convince all of the poetry of a prosaic detail, which is somehow key to everyone’s function in the organisation. Such meetings often inspire participants to take out their own smaller screens … ironically, probably to catch up on the just mentioned emails.
Often it is in unstructured work periods, such as the coffee breaks between possibly mediocre speakers, that the really thought-provoking connections are made. Companies like Google, for example, “manages” such creative waste by demanding employees “waste” 10% of their time on creative projects. From Sweden hails a whole culture of such “waste management” called Fika
5—the now widely adopted extended coffee breaks during a work day. In other words, effective leadership in such instances manages “waste” by making it mandatory, ritualising and simplifying it—a simplification which takes place precisely through ritualisation.
Such a simplification of waste within complexity creates space for niches to grow. Niches, in this instance, are understood as pockets within the dominant system that foster novel ideas (Westley et al.
2011, p. 767). Such niches are, however, also managed. Managers are essential to niches, but their leadership style cannot be traditional: they do not lead through express instructions or orders. Such leaders require “negative capabilities”: an orientation of listening and facilitation, rather than of being forcefully directive (our traditional associations with a “strong leader”). In other words, a niche leader would not say, “you must” or “you cannot,” but instead encourages with something akin to “you can.” In a sense, what a niche leader is doing, is through this proclamation of “you can” releasing participants to rearrange the business culture—what would be called in complexity theory its memory. Furthermore, with the liberative “you can,” the manager also implicitly makes a covenant to protect niche participants from what could be a negative dominant regime or remnants thereof.
Although in zen-like thinking small things, such as a butterfly, are understood potentially to have a larger effect than a volcano erupting, such change happens from locality to locality within a corporation, and not all at once. The possibility of such larger events from a small occurrence, or the reverse, cannot be guaranteed—which brings us again to memory in complexity systems. Although some niches may namely not be taken up in dominant regimes, they remain useful as contributors to the superfluity of a system; a necessary by-product of meaningful interaction.
We now turn to another type of “time drag” created by complexity. Wasteful niches cannot always be structured. Complex systems draw on connections rather than on calcified hierarchies. Even if one structures superfluous communication in complex systems through niches, emergence means wasteful residues persist. As with structured waste, incidental waste can equally lead to creative solutions. Unlike structured waste, however, resistance is built into incidental waste, and thus requires a different set of (also negative) capabilities of a leader.
Incidental waste requires what Schreiber and Carley (
2008, pp. 291–331) call
contextual and
process leadership. In brief, contextual leadership realises that knowledge and expertise do not reside in a single person, but are distributed over the whole network. Process leadership remains sensitive to where meaningful connections coalesce, fostering them. Schreiber and Carley, however, add a descriptive modelling of context and process. Such an analysis not only divulges their Restricted Complexity assumptions, but also works against their comment about the quick-paced change and the complexity of organisations today, which produce as pointed out above, incidental waste.
The management of incidental waste through contextual and process leadership should be seen as parallel to negative capabilities. Analysis and modelling may serve as training ground for contextual and process sensitivities, but no emergent moment waits for an analysis to be complete. Incidental waste, as the name suggests, occurs haphazardly. Thus, context analysis and process facilitation require more than analysis; it entails embodied awareness.
Simpson et al. (
2002, pp. 1211–1218) of how
context and
process as embodied negative capabilities turn incidental waste into a creative and educational process:
Nicholas is sent to negotiate a deal with Russian and Chinese counterparts for a certain multinational company. As the orchestrator of the deal, Nicholas must deliver swift results. Soon, however, he faces resistance from his compeers. At first, Nicholas struggles to understand why various parties resist what seems to him to be reasonable demands.
Nicholas’s mistake, which he is slow to realise, is his single focus—get the deal done. When working with other cultures, age-groups, or companies, one soon learns, like Nicholas, that one cannot steamroll decisions without collateral damage or encountering cooperative refusal.
Adaptive leadership, here, would mean drawing on the negative capabilities of allowing and acknowledging resistances, namely as a cooperative learning experience. In other words, if Nicholas overpowers his peers with the minutiae of the deal, without acknowledging the resistances and differences represented, he not only misses an educational moment, but he also reduces the resilience of future cooperative calibration.
We have now covered how leadership can leverage structured and incidental waste for learning and creativity. There remains, however, one more category of potential waste that a complex system can produce. The third type of waste in complex systems trains others into its own ways. Thus, whereas structured waste through niches protect the creativity of its members from dominant regimes, and incidental waste require an inculcation of reflective values, textured waste trains other human actors, which in companies means employees, to live within complexity.
The difference pointed out earlier between complex systems and complicated systems becomes important here. Social systems such as businesses are complex, and treating them as only complicated is reductive, in many ways. With complicatedness, operational units stand in a mono-modal relationship. In other words, each component is functional to another component. In contrast to this, however, complex interactions are multi-modal: one interaction has multiple effects throughout the system.
Thus, leaders who collapse complexity in mere complicatedness are short-sighted. Often such leaders see employees as means instead of as ends in themselves. The workers must, thus, be tapped for all their worth, and no mistakes on their part are allowed. Quite naturally, such a rigid approach soon spirals into error-shaming. Such a system may appear, at least in the short term, to produce less waste. The long-term price, however, does not justify the short-term thriftiness. The complicated system may seem more “toned,” but it also breaks far easier than a complex system. A short-lived complicated view of a team would accordingly make everyone puppets of the leader. Such draconic leadership encourages grovelling instead of appreciation, reluctance instead of willingness, and insipidness instead of ingenuity—the seeds herein of longer-term effects are clear to be seen.
The three described kinds of waste may be employed to guide leaders beyond over-psychologised business babble. Caution against such cheap, short-termed “solutions” is a must for managers who draw on a humanity endeared with traits related to our spirituality. An important difference remains between spiritualties that feign wholeness or existential meaning, and a complexity-model-focused locale of spirituality with integrity. A manipulative use of spirituality directs its canons at the employee. As more integral spirituality and view of humanity transmutes demands like “Work harder!” and “Be loyal to the company!” into questions like “What makes your work meaningful?” and “How can you draw on your inner strengths within difficult projects?,” wholeness and wholesomeness are, thus, non-forced and well-facilitated.
In contrast to control sublimated as care, a complex way of approaching spirituality requires not more from the employees, but from managers. Overseers may thus orient themselves to understand the conditions under which a deeper humanity is fostered, risking the valuable possibility of “waste.”