<< Back

Do Anything You Like: 'It's All Good' (22 November 2002)

Where what we say subconsciously influences how we act, one particular cliché may be a clear indicator of whether your organization is doing excellent work or just more good stuff.

"It's all good," he replied. The cliché caught me off guard. While I had heard it before many times, I couldn't place what was wrong now. There was something about the phrase that was not quite right. Was it the ready explanation, the tone of resolve, or the underlying sense of hopelessness that caused my feeling of unease? "It's all good," the senior manager had said. Simple words easily found and indeed, it was all good. All generally beneficial and apparently necessary. But why wasn't it great? Why didn't the action being proposed make such significant sense that it wasn't 'just more good stuff' but was instead something important … something worthwhile?

It took me a while, but then I realized that the phrase "It's all good" had echoed for me the first words of Ayn Rand's classic novel, Atlas Shrugged. In that opening scene a street vagrant speaks a cliché, "Who is John Galt?", naming the unseen central character of the book. It is our introduction to a world where people have given up on initiative and wait for someone else to provide an answer, in the most convenient form possible. The cliché has no known source or clear context, yet its underlying meaning is understood by all: - 'don't ask questions that there are no answers for and don't try to explain why the world isn't better'(1.). In Atlas Shrugged the cliché is a symbol of a futuristic world in decline. Does the use of our modern cliché tell us something about us and our world? Rand's purpose was to wake us up to a needed change in society. Are we at another such transition point?

The cliché "It's all good" may be more than just a popular phrase taken out of its original context. It can be used innocently, or in fun, for when everything is in perfect balance, or to honestly say "no really, it isn't important". But sometimes, just occasionally, when used in our workplaces, it may also be an initial indicator of a wider malaise - a symptom of what has been called learned helplessness.

When an organization has acquired 'learned helplessness' there is a tendency to look at things as generally good or generally bad. Those things that are generally bad are problems that could be worked at - but are perhaps best just ignored. The good things are accepted if they can happen without much thought. Whether these good initiatives enhance the present situation or not, is not as important as the fact that something is seen to be happening. It doesn't matter what is actually achieved.

While it may not be our conscious intention, when we use the cliché "It's all good" we may be making a hidden statement. The sub-text is that there is no need to question whether something will actually lead to a successful outcome - as we gave up long ago believing this was possible. If our individual actions become pointless and reward is independent of results, it does not matter what is done. The approach then is: "Create no problems and discover no answers. If it does no harm then it must be all good.". When we give up questioning the things that do matter, that are important, our helplessness eventually turns to hopelessness.

At what point then does an organization lose its feeling of confidence and empowerment and become helpless? Is it the moment when the system gets so large we can no longer see the relevance of individual efforts, or when strategies become so disconnected from reality that they make no strategic difference? We have seen the symptoms. Projects with outputs, but no defined outcomes. Development initiatives with no discernible strategic benefit. Team building when we don't work in teams. We know its not good - we just hope it is.

Or is it only when the ship has stopped and is actually going down that we realize what is happening? Like captains on the Titanic, management shouts orders down long speaking tubes to an engine room full of water where the fires are going out. "What shall we do captain?" the crew ask. High on the bridge well above the waterline, they calmly reply, "Do anything you like - it's all good - but just do something". Noticing that the deck chairs would look better in different spots does not help. The problem is below decks. If we are still there when the inevitable demise comes, we hope to escape by jumping from sinking ship to sinking ship. But we cannot stop to think where the water is coming from or what can be done. The situation is hopeless.

How do you recognize if your organization still has hope? There is a fine line, but a distinct one, between organizational cultures resolved to fate and those where 'good enough' is not good enough. Some organizations want what works, recognizing that things that are "all good" have no potential for the difficult, the challenging - or the productive. Instead they want an answer that actually fixes the problems they have named and defined. They want these problems fixed because what they do as an organization matters. They are not waiting for a world that is in decline to eventually grind to a halt and stop. They want to be successful. They want to complete their voyages.

There is a way of sustaining this strong sense of hope. Psychologists Maier and Seligman, working in the field of personal psychology, identified that a propensity for pessimism and hopelessness can be reversed (2.). Seligman has described this reversal of fortunes as 'learned optimism' and he talks about the indicators of learned optimism in terms of explanatory styles (3.) . His proposition is that how we explain misfortune not only reflects, but affects, how we think. What we say becomes a state of mind that influences how we act.

The same may be true for the organizational psyche. An organization with learned optimism would see setbacks as temporary isolated instances that are mere obstacles to get around while they stay focused on the bigger game plan. The alternative worldview is that of the organization that has learned helplessness. It will interpret all unforeseen events as a reflection of a permanent and all pervasive state of affairs that will always be with the organization - seeing all situations as hopeless.

The difference is that once your organization's explanatory style is in the "it's all too hard" category there is little incentive to face and name the problems to be overcome. In fact, the mindset is such that it becomes implausible to think that there may be an answer. The pessimistic outlook is that setbacks are permanent, all pervasive and are the organization's fault. The rhetoric becomes: "It is always like this, it is impossible to fix, the management is hopeless - it will never change". There is no point in properly examining alternatives, because there is no chance of a successful outcome - do anything "It's all good".

Which brings us back to our clichés. When we say without thinking: "It's all good" we are surrendering to the acceptance of mediocrity. To defeat the depressing resolve that comes from pointlessness we will superficially accept surface level indications of hope. By saying that it is all good we hope what is proposed may help - but importantly we know it won't hurt. A good outcome for an organization with learned helplessness is one that makes no real difference at all. The cliché becomes our explanation for acceptance. We should be consciously wary of its use!

Oscar Wilde observed that "life imitates art far more than art imitates life"(4.). While our world may have avoided Rand's fictional world in decline, we seem to have found a new cliché. Within our own modern cliché is the same resonance of fate, a resolve to accept helplessness, and a loss of the ability to question. Perhaps a different cliché for a different problem for a different time.

However, the real difference between our world and Ayn Rand's fictional world of John Galt is that there is, within the present malaise, widespread hope. We see, daily, leaders in organizations who are working towards something important and making a significant difference. In their organizations the future is optimistic. Helplessness has been unlearned and replaced with hope. Empowering their organization to feel it can succeed, the barrier has been overcome. By doing this they have consciously moved away from the potential malaise of helplessness.

The key question then becomes the one which we previously actively avoided: "What do we need to do to make this particular thing great?" But do we want to pose a question that we may not know the answer to? When the outcome is sufficiently important, the response is always "Yes, with trusted support, we want to ask the question, and to find out the answer". By discovering new ways to ask bigger questions we build on our optimism with realism, and respond to our hope (instead of just doing more good stuff).

There are clear-sighted leaders asking this key question. Sometimes they are the lone voice of inspiration. They may also be organizational subversives and the new leaders; those willing to identify that there is a question that deserves an answer - an answer they are willing to wait for and discover. They are the people who have the courage to find the answers that make a difference. They do not want just another cliché. Theirs are the voices that deserve being listened to. We know this, because in the end, we don't want it all to be good - we actually want it to be great.

by William Varey

1. Rand, Ayn (1957) Atlas Shrugged, Penguin Putnam Inc., N.Y.

2. Maier, S.F. and Seligman, M. 'Learned Helplessness: Theory and Evidence', Journal of Experimental Psychology (1976) pp 3-46

3. Seligman, M. (1990) Learned Optimism, Random House, Sydney

4. Wilde, Oscar (1891) The Decay of Lying: A Dialogue, in Intentions, Methuen & Co., London.

©William Varey 2002