For Wendy, Steve and Chris Butterworth-Heinemann An imprint of Elsevier Science Linacre House, Jordan Hill, Oxford OX2 8DP 225 Wildwood Avenue, Wobum MA 01801-2041 First published 1994 Paperback edition 1995 Transferred to digital printing 2002 Copyright 0 1994, Stuart P. Bate. All rights reserved The right of Stuart Bate to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form (including photocopying or storing in any medium by electronic means and whether or not transiently or incidentally to some other use of this publication) without the written permission of the copyright holder except in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 or under the terms of a licence issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency Ltd, 90 Tottenham Court Road, London, England W1T 4LP. Applications for the copyright holder’s written permission to reproduce any part of this publication should be addressed to the publisher British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 0 7506 0519 7 I I For information on all Butterworth-Heinemann publications visit our website at www.bh.com I I Printed and bound in Great Britain by Antony Rowe Ltd, Eastboume Acknowledgements Paul Valkry once said that works are never finished, only abandoned. This book would have been abandoned a good deal sooner - indeed would probably never have got started -had it not been for the following people: my students in the School of Management at the University of Bath, especially the final year undergraduates in my organization analysis and development class and the MBA students in my organization behaviour class; my colleagues and clients in industry, especially those in British Rail whose struggles to bring about cultural change provided the inspiration and leitmotiv for the present book; my fellow ‘warriors’ in SCOS who have done so much to put ‘culture’ on the map (generating a lot of energy and insanity in the process); my publishers who encouraged this project in the first place - and no doubt regretted it as deadlines passed m e t ; my own university for granting me a year’s sabbatical leave which enabled me to devote myself to writing; the College of Business Administration at the University of Massachusetts and the Norwegian School of Management for allowing me to spend this period in truly delightful company and lovely surroundings. To them all I express my deepest thanks. A book that goes into the world with such a heavy load of gratitude is almost a community venture, and I suppose this is how it should be with a book on culture. However, cultures are also made up of individuals, and there are particular individuals whom I would like to take this opportunity to thank - for their practical help, support and friendship: Alan Savage, Bjsrn Hennestad, John Barker, Ian Colville, Linda Smircich, Marta Calks, Suzanne Wilson Higgins, Alison Boyd, Paul Hills, Marc Chapman, Pete Huskinson, the consulting staff of A.I.M. in Oslo, and my colleagues in the School of Management and -the Centre for the Study of Organizational Change. And finally there are thanks to those whom I have never met, the great scholars whose writings profoundly affected my thinking, indeed my whole being: Georg Simmel, Susanne Langer, Clifford Geertz, Hermann Hesse, Paul Watzlawick, Pitirim Sorokin and Morse Peckham. I take this opportunity of apologizing to them for my own less worthy efforts. Every effort has been made to locate the original copyright holders of material used and the author would like to thank the following for viii Acknowledgements granting permission to include material copyrighted to them in the book: Geertz C. (1973) The Interpretation of Cultures. Selected excerpts. Copyright 0 1973 by BasicBooks Inc. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins, Publishers, Inc; Geertz C. (1974) From the native’s point of view. On the nature of anthropological understanding. Reprinted by permission of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, from the Bulletin of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 28 (1); Gilot F. and Lake C. (1964) Life with Picasso, McGraw-Hill, New York. Reprinted with the permission of the publisher; Green S. (1988) Strategy, organizational culture and symbolism. Long Range Planning, 21 (4), 121-9, with kind permission from Pergamon Press Ltd, Headington Hill Hall, Oxford OX3 OBW; Fox A. (1966) Industrial sociology and industrial relations. Royal Commission on Trade Unions and Employers’ Associations 1965-1968, Research Paper No. 3, reproduced with the permission of the Controller of Her Majesty’s Stationery Office; Kundera M. (1980) The Book of Laughter and 0 Forgetting, trans, Michael Heim. English translation copyright 1980 by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. Reprinted by permission of the publisher; Langer S. K. (1953) Feeling and Form. Reprinted with permission of Macmillan College Publishing Company. Copyright 1953 Charles Scribner’s Sons; copyright renewed 0 1981 Susanne K. Langer; Laurent A. (1989) A cultural view of organizational change. In Human Resource Management in International Firms. Change, Globalization, Innovation (eds P. Evans, Y. Doz and A. Laurent). Reprinted with permission of Macmillan Ltd, London and St Martin’s Press, Inc; Masuch M. (1985) Vicious circles in organizations. Administrative Science Quarterly, 30, 14- 33. Reprinted by permission of Administrative Science Quarterly; Rosen C. and Zerner H. (1984) Romanticism and Realism. Copyright 0 by Charles Rosen and Henri Zerner. Used by permission of Viking Penguin, a division of Penguin Books USA Inc; Solomon R. C. (1976) The Passions, Anchor Press Doubleday, New York. Reissued (1993) as The Passions, Emotions and the Meaning of Life. Hackett, Indianapolis. Reprinted with the permission of the author. Then there are the most important thanks of all. First to my children, Steve and Chris, who steadfastly refused to accept a closed study door as a sign to ‘keep out’, and whose very presence has kept this whole venture in a proper perspective. Their wit, intelligence and unselfish love have kept me sane. And then to my wife and closest friend, Wendy, who despite the huge demands of her own work has given an inordinate amount of time to this project, reading and correcting various drafts, and discussing and clarifying ideas - while at the same time managing to keep house and home together. Wendy, I wish I had half your intellect, humanity, energy and application. This book is dedicated to the three of you. 1 Turtles all the way down Introduction Writing a book about cultural change is a daunting task. One cannot simply take the advice of the storyteller or policeman and ‘begin at the beginning’, and tell it ‘how it happened’. In matters of change there is rarely a clear beginning - nor, for that matter, a discernible middle or end, and few people ever agree on what ‘really happened’, or if indeed anything happened at all. Even fewer will be able to say with any certainty what change is, or precisely what has changed, especially where matters of cultural change are involved. And, as we are well aware, the concept of culture is itself surrounded by a myriad of problems relating to meaning and definition. Therefore, put ‘culture’ and ‘change’ together and the chance of anything coherent emerging becomes all the more unlikely. Change, as writers have pointed out on many previous occasions, is a highly complex business, difficult to understand, and because of its non- linear nature almost impossible to deal with systematically, or to write about convincingly. Pettigrew, for example, invites us to ‘observe other men consciously attempting to move large and small systems in different directions, or attempt it yourself, and one sees what a difficult and complicated human process change is’ (1985: 1). Certainly, if one’s ambition is to tell it ‘how it really is’ - or was - the result is almost certain to be a story as labyrinthine and multilayered as an Agatha Christie whodunit. Things, as they say, are going to take a whole lot of explaining. Talking of stories, Clifford Geertz’s story of the elephant captures perfectly the many difficulties and frustrations one experiences when trying to work with the concept of culture: There is an Indian story - at least I heard it as an Indian story - about an Englishman who, having been told that the world rested on a platform which rested on the back of an elephant which rested in turn on the back of a 4 Strategies for Cultural Change turtle, asked . . . what did the turtle rest on? Another turtle. And that turtle? ‘Ah, Sahib, after that it is turtles all the way down’. (Geertz, 1973: 29) In matters of culture it is nearly always a case of ‘turtles all the way down’: one just never seems to get to the bottom of things. As Geertz says, cultural analysis is intrinsically incomplete: ‘And, worse than that, the more deeply it goes the less complete it is’ (p. 29). Working with culture, one is constantly being reminded of the Chinese saying that the more you know the more confused you become, or the theoretical physicist John Wheeler’s comment that ‘The greater the island of knowledge grows, the greater becomes the shoreline of the unknown’ (1980: 9). The question ‘why bother?’ is therefore never far from one’s mind. Nor can one ever be sure that things will all come right in the end. Working with complexity cultural analysis runs counter to the preference for simplification that is prevalent in social science research. A greater tolerance for complexity, however, will reward investigators with a deeper understanding of the phenomena they are studying and a fmer basis for interpreting the data they collect. (LeVine, 1984: 84) At a moment when the authors of best-selling business books are exhorting us to keep things simple, follow what our commonsense tells us, and practise the ‘technology of the obvious’, one is conscious of the risks involved in drawing attention to complexity - especially in proposing that we, in fact, need to confront complexity head on, recognize it for what it is, and learn to work with it. The danger of advocating this kind of philosophy is that one exposes oneself to accusations of over-complicating the issues, using mystifying jargon, being over-theoretical and anti-practical, and generally refusing to ‘come clean’ on the straightforward answers that people in the real world are seeking. Borrowing a phrase used by Renfrew (1979: 4) when he found himself in a similar corner, my response would be that if the concepts in the book are sometimes difficult, so undoubtedly is the task. Nevertheless, we cannot escape the fact that the siren-call of the simplifiers is extremely seductive, promising things far beyond the reach of our heavy-footed, land-locked complicators. Who, after all, could resist the song which says ‘everything is what it is and not another thing’. . .The world is what the wide-awake, uncomplicated person takes it to be. Sobriety, not subtlety, realism, not imagination are the keys to wisdom; the really important facts Turtles all the way down 5 of life lie scattered openly along its surface, not cunningly secreted in its depths. There is no need, indeed it is a fatal mistake, to deny, as poets, intellectuals, priests, and other professional complicators of the world so often do, the obviousness of the obvious. Truth is as plain, as the Dutch proverb has it, as a pikestaff over water. (Geertz, 1974 89) Given this highly attractive alternative, one might well ask what would induce anyone (practitioners especially) to read a book that promises no ‘keys’, no ‘solutions’, no ‘simple secrets’, not even an eight-point guide to ‘excellence’ or a single two-by-two matrix of strategic options for change! My reply would be to invite the reader seriously to consider how far the ‘paradigm of simplicity’ accords with his or her actual experience of organizational life. I believe the answer for the great majority would be that there is little correspondence: we all want things to be simple, but we know they rarely are; we all want the ‘solution’ but we know it will not always present itself, or that when it does it may not actually achieve the desired effect. It may be that the ‘keep it simple’ philosophy has a role in expressing some kind of ideal-world position, or even in providing a not unwelcome form of escapism or reverie for the user, but as a philosophy for action it is woefully inadequate. The thrust of my argument is that one ends up ‘working with complexity’ not out of choice or preference but because reality dictates that it cannot be otherwise. In saying this, one does not rule out the possibility in the end of having to make simplifications (which is arguably an essential part of the process of taking action), but that, of course, is very different from beginning with them. The guiding maxim of the philosophy being proposed is that one should meet complexity with complexity, that is develop a framework sufficiently complex to embrace the complexity within the subject matter it is seeking to describe, but not so complex and lifesize as to be as confusing as the ‘real thing’. Unfortunately, it is here at the very first stage of conceptualization that one encounters a major problem: there are apparently no frameworks like this available! Kennedy (1985: 325) writes: ‘we don’t even seem to have a reasonable way, i.e., a conceptual framework, for thinking about change’. As it stands the statement is probably incorrect - most researchers would probably agree that there is no shortage of frameworks for thinking about change (and culture) - but where cultural change is concerned it is unfortunately probably true. The implication for this particular ‘story’ is that one does not have the luxury of beginning at the beginning, using a framework that is already available, but needs to take several steps backwards in order to work on putting one together. This is where this first chapter finds itself. Developing a conceptual framework is like learning a language. This book is based on this idea. First we need the vocabulary - the concepts - 6 Strategies for Cultural Change and then we need the grammar - the thinking structures - and finally we need the ‘oral’ practice - the applications. As Simmel says, frameworks are languages into which the world or aspects of it may be translated. These languages may be conceived as general schemata which constitutec onditions for the intelligibility of the world as a whole or specific aspects of it. (Oakes, 1980: 10) The overall aim of this book is to create one such ‘language’, albeit a fairly rudimentary one, for the world of cultural change. Asking good questions Our ignorance grows with our knowledge. . . We will always have more questions than answers. (K. Popper, Conjectures and Refutations, 1963) Thinking conceptually, whether it be for analytical, strategic or action purposes, is itself a complex business. What it all seems to boil down to in the end, however, is the knack of being able to ask ‘good’ questions. The stress is on questions rather than answers since the answers you get depend on the questions you ask. Contrary to the normal way of thinking, ‘answers’ are not independent phenomena that are in some way unlocked or ‘released’ by questions, but phenomena that are actually created by them. The form of the original question is therefore absolutely crucial because it frames one’s entire perspective on this or that issue. And perspective, as the artist is constantly reminding us, is everything. The point I am making has been summed up as follows: It is vital to recognize this ‘correlativity’ of questions and answers . . . An answer assumes all that the question presupposes. (Crick, 1976: 131) If we are to take this point seriously, it means that we need to exercise special care in our selection of the main questions - the primary form of interrogative - for our framework on cultural change. This choice will determine what the shape of the framework will be (structure), what we subsequently ‘see’ and do not see (perspective and focus of attention), and where we finally stand on the subject (judgement). The definition of what constitutes a ‘good’ question will obviously vary, depending on our reasons for asking it in the first place, but I believe one of the more important requirements is that it addresses and, where necessary, challenges the fundamental and ‘taken for granted’ Turtles all the way down 7 views that may have grown up around a subject or in our own minds. A question must truly ‘question’ something: this idea is part of that larger (originally Greek) philosophy of scepticism which says that learning proceeds as the result of constantly challenging the prevailing views and conventions of the time. Asking questions provides an effective safeguard against dogmatism - that closed frame of mind which foolishly claims to know how things actually are, and which is always discouraging us from looking further. There is always the temptation in management, as no doubt in other commercially influenced subjects, to give the client what he or she ‘wants to hear’, the unfortunate consequence being that prejudices, whims and dogmas are reinforced, and a cosy, self- congratulatory atmosphere created. My position is that while not averse to pleasing (who would want to be accused of being a spoil-sport and not joining in?), I would always reserve the right to ask questions that may be disturbing. The questions below form the organizing framework for this book. They are all directed towards certain ‘taken for granteds’ that have grown up in the field. They are summarized here, and will be discussed in detail as the book unfolds: Why change culture? A functional, ‘so what? question which examines the grounds upon which we might assume or believe that a strategy for cultural change would serve any useful function or purpose, or offer anything of value or interest. The question is really twofold: why change, and why culture? Is planned cultural change possible? A question which asks what potential, if any, there exists for conscious and deliberately planned intervention in an organization’s cultural change processes. If there is such potential, the question is intervention by whom, in what way, and for what purpose? If culture cannot be changed by deliberate human agency, why bother to try? What kind of dtural change is envisaged? Questions relating to the scale or level of cultural change: change ‘what’ precisely, and to what end? Questions about what is supposedly in line to be changed draw us away from generalized views about the subject and towards consideration of the different types and ‘orders’ of cultural 8 Strategies for Cultural Change change that exist, and the different change strategies that each may require. How does cultural change occur? The factual question for which sadly there seem to be few available ‘facts’. An assumption seems to have grown up that an understanding of the cultural process is not absolutely necessary before an attempt is made to change it (which may explain why so little is known about the cultural change process in organizations). The question here signifies a departure from this view, being prompted by the opposite argument that any theory of (and strategy for) cultural change needs to grow from a thorough understanding of the processes that produce and maintain cultural order, and the processes that transform it. So much for the point about ‘asking good questions’. Another point - a twist on this one - is that ‘asking questions is good‘. It suspends our certainties and puts us in a healthily doubtful (and fumbling) frame of mind. To use Ott’s phrase (1984), it turns us from self-satisfied know-alls into ‘honest grapplers’ after truth. A questioning frame of mind suspends our assumptions about the existence of ‘one reality’ and puts us in an interpretive (multiperspectival) frame of mind; and it frees us from the world of ‘facts’, enabling us to engage in the fruitful process of ‘imaginative abstraction’ (Geertz, 1973: 24). With this in mind, ‘progress’ has to be redefined, being ‘marked less by perfection of consensus than by a refinement of debate. What gets better is the precision with which we vex each other’ (1973: 29). You can’t judge a book by its cover Still on the subject of questions, we might begin by questioning the title of the book itself: ‘Strategies for Cultural Change (in Organizations)’. On the face of it, the title seems fairly innocuous and straightforward, and it does trip rather easily off the tongue. Yet the more we think about it the more we need to avoid being taken in by it! The truth of the matter is that any book with this title - which is too sensible and managerial by half - could easily end up glossing over problems, and perpetuating the very misconceptions that need to be challenged. Drawing critical attention to the title of one’s own book may sound rather like shooting oneself through the foot. Nevertheless, this will be a small price to pay if it succeeds in highlighting some of the common fallacies about ‘changing culture’, and enables us to consider the possibility of an alternative perspective.