A Study in Self-Management
If you’ve been listening, you’ve probably heard the buzz around self-organization. The recently re-discovered management paradigm has been evoking strong reactions (both positive and negative) from businesses, employees, press, and educators. Many are watching from the sidelines, speculating as to whether it is the next big management paradigm or it is doomed to fail.
Having consulted with businesses experimenting with self-organization, and having led an unusually self-managed life, I fall on the side of optimism that this framework is a transformational option for making businesses more flexible, adaptable, and desirable to creative, bright employees — all very necessary things in today’s rapidly changing competitive global environment. But that doesn’t mean the transition will be easy. As companies begin to explore aspects of self-organization, they do so with employees who have never had any sense of personal agency, let alone almost full discretion as to the development and execution of their educational and career pathways.
While leading Learning/Education X PRIZE design, I was tasked with spotting trends and identifying the biases that keep us pinned under existing antiquated ideas and structures, slowing the rate of innovation and change. In the case of self-organization, one of the primary challenges stems from the fact that most people have been raised, educated, and employed in scenarios in which there was always someone telling them what to do, the best way to do it, and how well they did in comparison with the norm/expectations. When the authority figure and the direction they provide go away, it can be a shock to the system.
I am abnormally familiar with self-organization as I started unknowingly practicing it when I was about 13 years old and left the formal education system. I’ve told (and believed) various narratives as to what drove this decision, but ultimately it comes down to the fact that I was (am) a stubborn know-it-all, who couldn’t bear to be told what to do everyday, all day. Over the next three years I completed grades 8–12, earning my high school diploma at 16, self-teaching myself via a correspondence curriculum utilized primarily by diplomats and other people whose travel prevented their kids from attending regular schools.
Although the program was structured and certified by the state, I completed it in an utterly and unbelievably unstructured way. I would lazily do nothing at all for three weeks, and then finish two entire subjects within a few days (it was in the early days of the home schooling movement, so I’d imagine that might not fly anymore). I found that the timeline was not linear and I was simply incapable of doing work unless I was inspired or felt a ton of pressure. I eventually began to identify the factors that led to my inspiration, and found more of a method to the madness.
This wild west of an education required me to develop my own norms — there weren’t online groups with which to share best practices or groups to tap into for moral support at that point in time. I was a voracious reader, who enjoyed debating with adults in a way that young girls are not generally encouraged to do. Frankly, I think I’d probably want to slap my teenage self in the face if I had to contend with her now.
My motivations were born internally, drawn from endless curiosity combined with a contrarian desire to figure out efficient and creative ways to go around the system. There may also have been a dash of delusions of grandeur, which my parents stoked. They were incredibly supportive of this process in a way that I think many parents would probably not be, primarily encouraging me to trust my compass instead of intervening.
I focused my time and energy on the things I wanted to do, which had the result of gradually weakening some of the skills that I was less interested in or not as good at. I will admit in no uncertain terms that from the perspective of our traditional system metrics, I received a mediocre high school education (if that). In terms of self-management, though, I grew some serious muscles.
Prior to leaving school I had been in the gifted and talented program, frequently won Leadership awards, and was placed in advanced classes/opportunities. I wore these achievements as a badge of honor that justified me adopting my own path, recognizing early something that has been magnified in my adulthood; sometimes the best way to go around a system is to establish credibility within it. Insiders have a microphone that misfits do not. In becoming an advocate for alternative education and work models like self-organization, it helps to mention that I was educated at Cornell University’s School of Industrial and Labor Relations, designed Learning X PRIZEs, and that I was a Management Side Labor Rep for Lockheed Martin Space Systems.
Throughout my career I have opted in and out of hierarchical systems, working and learning for others, and then doing so for myself. Without the shadow of a doubt, I am happiest and most productive when captaining my own ship. When operating in a traditional hierarchical environment, it is easy to switch on autopilot and simply do as one is told, without the stress or ownership that comes with autonomy.
Self-management requires one to constantly be on the look out for opportunities, to consistently create connections between things that heretofore had none. The path is not cemented, and while you may have a general sense of the direction you want to go, your only directive is to take one step. If the step is not right, then you can’t cling to your misstep. You can’t despair at your failure. You simply take stock, figure out the lesson in that experience, and take a different step in a new direction. Self-management provides flexibility and asks for adaptability in return.
Self-management takes away the safety net of blame on other people when things do not turn out well. It adds pressure, uncertainty, and accountability. I’d be lying if I said this freedom is never terrifying or that it offers a stable foundation. I occasionally (frequently?) work myself into emotional distress, asking whether I am sufficiently honoring my Ikigai, my purpose for getting out of bed and working each morning.
At the end of the day, it is this sense of responsibility and gratitude for the chance to live a self-managed life that keeps me motivated to continue despite the fact that many of my ideas are (at worst) completely wrong or (at best) ahead of their time. I don’t get reviews, promotions, or bonuses as confirmation of my performance. Instead I ask for reactions and feedback, using these in combination with outputs or results as signals of where there is room for improvement and personal growth.
In weak moments, I crave someone in authority to give me praise, to pet my ego, and tell me what to do and how to do it. But then I think about how that person would also likely have final say over my work, my schedule, and other aspects of my life that currently fall within my personal domain.
I still go back and forth on the topic of whether people can become proficient in self-management midway through life. The optimist in me says absolutely, but the more experienced voice says that if the transition can be made it will probably be difficult, and that there were probably at least some aspects of self-management that the person has already been unconsciously dabbling in.
Self-organized businesses offer people a more moderate forum for self-management, where there is a little bit more structure and stability for people to explore their own self-directed path, knowing there are boundaries and resources to aid them. This does not eliminate the uncertainty or the pressure for you to figure things out on your own. It requires a mind shift, flexibility, openness to taking risks, curiosity, and self-drive.
I’ve started creating a list of the qualities and skills that lead to success in self-management, and will post about that in the future. If you haven’t checked out the other posts, and think self management is something you’d like to explore, I encourage you to determine your Ikigai as a first step: what you love, what you are good at, what you can be paid for and what the world needs.
-Your Hire Self
For more questions, check out the other posts or follow Your Hire Self here, here, or here.
