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Imagine that during an evening with some consultants, you extract these bits from conversations
about our work: “Whatever we do, we must do in a spirit of love…We get what we can and get
out…We are all trying to make some small positive difference…Let’s face it, each of us wants to
do better than the next guy...It’s all about the marketplace and coming out on top.” Each
comment expresses a unique view on the consulting world; each reflects different assumptions
about why we do this work; each would lead to different actions. And that’s what this chapter is
We all have assumptions, but are we aware of them? Our statements and actions reflect our
assumptions, but do we know that? People we have worked with regularly could probably tell us
what some of our assumptions are, but can we? You could make good guesses at my
assumptions, having read this far in this book. I will to move you from guessing to knowing, but
not before asking you to do a little assuming yourself: What are the assumptions that underlie
your work? Consider the beliefs you hold that you act upon as if they were the absolute truth—I
think that is what an assumption is. What do you assume about people? Organizations? The
marketplace? Yourself? Work? Life? Your place in the world? Write down at least three
assumptions that guide you in your work. That’s three assumptions from hundreds that you hold.
What is the importance of your assumptions? One reason your clients continue to use you is
assumptions: Yours match theirs, are complementary or intriguing. Clients usually seek ease of
relationship, rather than difficulty, when selecting their consultants. If a client knows you hold
quite different assumptions than they, you will both need to give more time to your work
relationship. Sometimes this is exactly what your both seeking the opportunity to see the world
from someone operating with different assumptions. For example, interesting discussions have
occurred between a client that assumes people basically lazy and have to be pushed to work,
and a consultant that assumes people are self-motivated and seeking meaning in their work. Or,
I will offer three assumptions; you may have detected these in earlier chapters, but I will but them
forth here. These assumptions profoundly affect what I do with my clients and my life. They often
go unexpressed, but they are always there. These are beliefs I hold and act upon as if they were
the truth.
The world does not make sense; we make sense of the world. Most of the order we see in the
world, we project onto it. The world has an order of its own, most of which is beyond our
comprehension. There is not very much around us that we understand in any depth, but to live
means taking action on what we do “know”. Though we control very little in this world, we talk like
we are in control.
Picture an ice skater, gliding confidently across the frozen surface and unaware of how thin the
ice really is, how many cracks are in it, and what lurks in the depths below. That ice is the world
as we make sense of it, as we have created it. It holds us to the extent that it makes sense to us.
We create the ice we skate upon by continuing to skate. Our skating keeps us from sinking into
the depths. We skate with the assumption that the ice will continue to support us. We skate
skate, to impose our sense on the world. It is a great mistake for us to think that the world
actually makes our kind of sense. In truth, a differently ordered, even chaotic, real world lies
beneath the sense we impose on it. To acknowledge this truth is a threat to the reality we create
and impose.
I consult through this view of the world. I myself and others skate and create their meanings.
Holding this assumption opens me to alternative meanings. When the world does something
“crazy”, I am more like to say yes to it, to accept that “craziness” and be curious about it. I will
adjust to it more quickly than someone who does think the world makes sense in a way that we
can understand it. And, I will also be in doubt more often and lack the anchor that comes with
frames my thinking and my questions. I “know” it is true, and confirm that knowledge daily. Our
energy for working rises noticeably when we are working on what matters in our lives—not just
our assigned work. Notice what happens when work helps people see, grow, empower
themselves, find happiness, increase self worth, work together, and discover themselves in what
they do. People are brought to life; they find energy for the work that goes beyond their job
descriptions and formal roles; they pursue the work because it is life-giving. And notice what
happens when the work is primarily about describing a product, improving systems, creating
procedures, saving money, making money, or getting this place to be more efficient. People care
less about it and that shows. They do what is required of them, because it is their job. My
assumption guides me toward looking for what in this work might feed people’s lives outside of
work? I “know” that any major change effort must be firmly linked to people’s life aspirations.
A corollary: If my client and I are talking about saving money, developing a product, or plant
efficiencies, and we think that this is the only point, we are missing the point. We cannot pursue
them because they have something to do with what is important in our lives. Our motivation flows
to the extent that we find meaning that goes beyond the savings, the efficiencies—the more
immediate demands the business is placing on us. I look for meaning that transcends the
immediately obvious. To the extent that I find it and can help others find it, a deeper source of
a game, and I am not even very good at it. I play hard because it allows me to exercise some
achievement, power, competition, health, vigor—these are the meaningful parts of myself that I
give expression to when I play tennis. And tennis is important only because of all that I gain
through it.
When I read a book, I am not doing it to see how fast I can read or how many pages I can read or
how many books I can read. I read to allow others to affect my thinking, my imagination. The
primary product of my reading is not eighty-seven pages per hour. The primary measure of my
tennis game is not the final score. And the primary definition of the health of a corporation is not
last quarter’s profits. The pages, the score, and the profits are each indicators that deserve
attention. It makes no more sense to evaluate a corporation entirely on quarterly profits than it
does to evaluate my reading entirely on my pages read per hour, or to evaluate my tennis entirely
on my score. My search for meaning in my work goes beyond the numbers that are so readily
available. I see them as standing for, representing, something that is more important. I respect
the numbers and try to find their place in a larger perspective. I have just as much difficulty with a
client who sees the numbers as an end in themselves as I would with a person who brags about
how much he or she has read but is unable to tell me what the book was about, or with a tennis
player who believes that the final score is all that matters.
I want to help people work on what is important in their lives and particularly on those issues that
involve work. This often means helping them gain another perspective on what their life is about
so that they can see what work is about. For a leadership team, it may mean figuring out what
they would be proud of doing together in their division. For a work group, it may mean identifying
what professionalism is in their work and what it has to do with what they want out of their lives.
For an individual, it could mean laying out some life goals and deciding what could be done to
realize some of those goals over the next twenty years. For a client who has been focused on
the numbers, it may mean searching for the meaning behind the numbers.
I continue to struggle with this assumption; I belief it, but it is not easy to live with. What I
contribute through my work and in my life is not world-shaping or profound. I could stop writing
this book, stop working, stop living, and it would not make that much difference. Yes, I do make a
difference—and no, it is not all that important. What is true for me is true for you and everyone
else.
So why bother? Why bother writing? Doing? Living? Because there is a self deep inside me that
seeks express the small meaning it does have, that wants to discover and become itself. It
somehow puts aside the relative unimportance of it all and says, “I will become myself.” As surely
as a new leaf forms on the plum tree outside my office—without regard for the fact that there will
be thousands of other leaves on that one tree and on billions of other plum trees around the world
—just as surely, I am forming myself. In the grand scheme of things, I mean about as much as
Surprisingly, I find this perspective enlightening and refreshing—even though the place I have
found for myself is not grand or exalted as my ego might desire. It allows me to forgive myself
and others when we don’t change some part of the world as much as we wanted to. It allows me
to be more patient with clients and friends. It allows me to appreciate the magnificent and
unfathomable world around us from my small place in it. I cannot use this assumption to excuse
myself from doing anything. The reality, is I can make a small difference and I should use that
opportunity well. It is vital that I do it, even though I do not have many illusions about how
important those small differences are in the great picture of the universe.