289: Obliquity: Strategy is not a straight line
Good morning friends
/strategy
The strategy industry and its remoras too often create caricatures of strategy. Strategy is not a list of goals. It is not how it is measured. Nor is it a template, one-page, or otherwise (Richard Rumelt is spectacular on what strategy is not).
Strategy is an intentional, iterative set of choices to strengthen the capabilities that increase our chances of attaining our desired outcomes in the midst of ever-evolving complexity. It is not linear. It is not once-off. It depends on awareness, reflection and adjustment.
It is for this reason that strategy gurus, Jim Collins and Roger Martin, consistently remind us – act, learn, discuss, adjust. Strategy evolves as we act and learn.
Collins advocates strategy councils. Martin tells us not to view his and A.G. Lafley’s strategy cascade as one directional, but rather an iterative and adaptive process where ambition informs action, and action helps refine our understanding of where exactly we’re going and how to get there.
John Kay’s Obliquity is dedicated to this theme: “oblique approaches (that) recognise that complex objectives tend to be imprecisely defined and contain many elements that are not necessarily or obviously compatible with each other, and that we learn about the nature of the objectives and the means of achieving them during a process of experiment and discovery”.
Kay confronts us with the reality that our worlds are infinitely more complex than we can control. The templates give us a false sense of certainty and safety. But we all know that beneath their neat blocks are oceans of ever-moving contingent complexity.
“We deal with complex systems whose structure we can understand only imperfectly. The problems we face are rarely completely specified, and the environment in which we tackle them contains irresolvable uncertainties.”
And so, “An oblique approach recognises that what we want… has many elements. We will never succeed in specifying fully what they are, and to the extent that we do, we discover that they are often incompatible and inconsistent… The experience of both previous and current problems guides the search for answers. Many people contribute to the outcome, and even after that outcome has been realised none of them necessarily holds a full understanding of how it came about”.
This, of course, doesn’t mean we give up on ambition and intention (aka vision and strategy).
It does mean that we’re conscious of complexity and the ever-evolving nature of our worlds. As we act, change happens.
(If you don’t know Kay’s work, he was the first dean of Oxford’s Saïd Business School and has held chairs at the London School of Economics, the University of Oxford, and London Business School.)
//self
On December 12, 1978, literary giant Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o walked out of Kamiti Maximum Security Prison; smuggled with him was a draft of his novel Caitaani mũtharaba-Inĩ (Devil on a Cross). He’d written it, with stolen pen on stolen toilet paper, whilst in solitary confinement. It would be the first time a novel was published in Gĩkũyũ.
The ruling regime did not want Ngũgĩ’s work published. To ensure this, they attempted to kidnap his publisher, Henry Chakava. The kidnapping was interrupted by passing motorists, but before the thugs fled, they lashed out with a machete, severing one of Chakava’s fingers. Nevertheless, he published.
In 1963, South African Es’kia Mphahlele (author of one of the world’s finest autobiographies, Down Second Avenue), having fled the horrors of apartheid, was in exile in Nairobi. He founded the Chemchemi Creative Center.
Ngugi reflects, “There must have been skeptical glances when this exile from South Africa set up this fountain for Kenyan writers, but no skepticism would deflect him from his purpose. Where others saw East Africa as a literary desert, Mphahlele saw fertile soil to plant seeds that would green the desert”.
As part of his endeavours, Mphahlele travelled across Kenya speaking about literature, writing and publishing at multiple high schools. One of those schools, far from Nairobi, was Kamusinga High School. Seated quietly in the corner was a young boy; Henry Chakava.
(This anecdote is woven from two essays: Henry Chakava: A Model of Development in Africa and The African Writer as a Prophet and Social Critic in Contemporary Times).
///soul
On 2 May, the SAS Amatola returned to port in Simonstown, where we live. It left South Africa at the end of January to participate in naval exercises with India, along the way it visited Shanghai, Kenya and Tanzania. It was the most significant voyage by the South African Navy since 2008.
The ship was commanded by Captain Zanele Madiba. She is the first African female Officer Commanding of a frigate in the South African Navy and was the only female OC among participating warships during the exercise.
Whilst it is improbable that the South African navy would, through military strength, change the world, there is no doubt that Captain Madiba (and those who have supported her leadership) has and will.
All the best
Karl
PS: If you’d like to learn more about my coaching practice, you can do so here.