Lost and found on the Future Leaders Scheme (FLS)
Just keep going
“Future Leaders Scheme is building a diverse, robust pipeline to senior roles. You’re part of the high potential, talented civil servants who can get there.”
The Future Leaders Scheme (FLS) is one of the UK Civil Service’s Accelerated Development Schemes, aimed at high-potential grade 6 and 7 civil servants. You can read my previous reflections on the scheme here:
Hello dear reader,
I’ve spent my time on the scheme in one way or another struggling, confused, in-between, or barely managing. The truth of my reality here is so much uglier and grittier and nuanced and complicated than these blog posts makes it seem.
The nature of this blog is not to discover a truth. There is no single truth or way to go through the scheme, but a landscape of meaning and myriad of experiences. I’m not looking for a way to master the transitions, just a way to move from being stuck to unstuck.
So, here goes.
This blog post consists of errant thoughts that don’t neatly fit into the boxes of each module.
The story I will tell, about what it’s like on the scheme, is mine and mine alone.
What is lost can return
“What you risk reveals what you value.” — Jeanette Winterson
When I sat down to write this blog post, I had no idea what I was going to write about at all. There’s a thing I’m trying to put my finger on, a thing I can’t quite place or find the words to describe adequately. Surely being afraid to write about it is a good sign?
The scheme is a peculiar place. One of its many peculiarities is its penchant for fads — fuelled by poor science and outdated thinking — and what can only be called social reproduction. I think that the overarching effect is it creates a monoculture that paves the way for (more) conformity and exclusionary leadership norms.
Our cadre of future senior leaders is formed by a system that exposes people to the same ideas and gives them the “in” language and habits. These serve as a badge of identity, a sense of specialness. And the homogenisation of training i.e. the one-size-fits-all approach means fierce, independent, important thought gets eroded. So far from being open to entertaining different thinking, the curiosity and open-minds of some of our brightest are dulled by the weight of social pressure.
The scheme also has its own moral code of behaviour, creating a hostile environment for dissenting participants. It inevitably makes it difficult for people to put their head above the parapet and speak out. For this reason, I make hard decisions about how to navigate this place and consider the very real trade-offs and consequences involved. It is depressing to think of where this intellectual sameness might take us. If I had the energy, I suppose I could fill hundreds of pages trying to illustrate it.
If the problem of self-perpetuation is structural, then the solutions might be, too. Perhaps one answer is to get rid of the scheme. Perhaps another is to redesign it and find ways to foster approaches that are heterogenous, outward looking, non-conformist and emotionally engaged. People who are very themselves and have the quiet conviction to show up as they are.
But first we must be willing to acknowledge the problem.
Reclaiming the parts of myself I love the least
“Let the more loving one be me” — W.H. Auden
Whenever I sit down on the scheme, I ruminate on what is going on within me and around me (rather than the activity I’m supposed to be doing). I worry this place could potentially reveal so much about me that I didn’t want to know. Whilst staring into space, I’ve discovered a few things.
I find it difficult to be open about my feelings. Sometimes I feel like I wear my heart on my sleeve, other times I feel like I barely know how to show it. I struggle to master my emotions. And I find myself not wanting anyone to know what I’m struggling with until I can turn it into something neatly packaged that others could consume.
After a setback, I go in on myself and search for the will to go on. I find myself not wanting to admit how hard it is sometimes to do things. I am harsh on myself, my own biggest critic. I struggle to accept a compliment. I often get socially awkward. Sometimes I don’t know what to do, so I look outside of myself instead of going inwards. There is a certain humility to knowing that I might not see all the pieces on my own.
I’m a person who feels like there is no way I could ever possibly repay others for their kindness. I have trouble asking for and accepting help from others. I carry around both a resistance to asking and the act of receiving. I also don’t want anyone to leave my presence feeling owed. Learning to receive gracefully is a skill I’m learning to practice.
I find it hard to trust others at a soul-deep connection. Creating and maintaining a community of people I belong to isn’t effortless for me. Often, it feels like it’s some kind of herculean task I’ll never get right. Finding a balance between openness and self protection is hard.
These are things I used to think of as flaws. As it turns out, trying to do everything alone, to keep my struggles secret, didn’t do what I thought it would. So I’m not sure I’ll ever be rid of them, and I’m not sure I want to be either. I’m more likely to think these days that some of them are actually superpowers.
I’ve been thinking about all this a lot lately. I’m trying to put the pieces of myself together — to know who I am, what I stand for, who I am becoming. Because I want to be a kind guide to myself. Tapping into these feelings helps me feel something here. It helps pause on what otherwise feels like a constant stream of rapidly passing experiences.
The pieces we leave behind
To speak is still a bold act.
With three months left on the scheme, the end is in sight. I already feel the return of some hope. The stress of day-to-day living on the scheme is fading fast. I freely admit I’m a different person away from it, in the sunlight and warmth of pretty much anywhere else.
It’s hard to explain something that only comes through the direct experience of this place. I’ve always felt a little lost here. For a long time, I thought I’d only be lost. But just like waves my inner landscape shifts. This place is part of what has brought me to where I am today. It’s given me insight into what I know and all I don’t know. And I will be carrying that with me as I continue traversing the path ahead, searching for whatever might be next, wherever it may lead me.
You can read all my reflections on the scheme here:
