The Candidate
A couple of nights ago I wrote about having voted in this month’s election. I really should tell you one part of the story I left out…
As I was filling in the little ovals on the ballot, I realized for the first time that the (Republican) state representative from my (new) district is running unopposed. As I meditated on this little piece of information, I made the decision, somewhat impulsively I admit, to run for public office. I filled in the little oval next to the write-in space and then penciled in my own name.
So, there I was: an ordinary citizen one moment, a candidate for political office the next.
I “announced” my candidacy at work today. And as far as I know now, I’ll have two votes in my column come next Tuesday.
Analysis Paralysis
I have been thinking lately that I am suffering from an affliction I suspect many others at my workplace are also attempting to cope with: for want of a better term, “analysis paralysis.”
Ever since I began my present work assignment, I have been confronted with one ambitious “to-do list” after another. We have produced many, many lists and attempted to prioritize the items at many, many meetings I have attended. Among the giant list of tasks is the recently-revised and distributed, overwhelming, intimidating, multi-page strategic-plan document.
I have to admit: in the face of so much to do, and so little guidance about what the priorities are, I tend to remain somewhat frozen. Because, everything is a priority, I’m told. And, what I know is that when everything is a priority, nothing is. And that when everybody is responsible, nobody can be.
The organization is attempting to change several dimensions of its collective being all at the same time. Stress is high. Communication is low. Ad hoc decisions abound. Everyone is off balance; or, at least I know I am.
Come to think of it, all of this is sounding amazingly familiar. Because…
My 1995 dissertation about alcohol use and socialization in a college fraternity, used the “addictive organization” paradigm of Anne Wilson Schaef (1988) as the guiding theoretical framework. This way of looking at workgroups (and, in my study, a social group) came about as a rather logical extension of the “dysfunctional family” literature, which sees family groups behaving as addicts. Schaef proposed that it is possible to “recognize that organizations themselves are addicts, and that they function corporately the same way any individual addict functions” (p. 137).
Some of the elements of an addictive organization, according to Schaef (see chapter 4, pp. 137-176), include:
Communication that is indirect, vague, confused, and ineffective
Lots of gossip and many secrets
The expression of feelings is forbidden and outside of acceptable behavioral bounds
Loss of corporate memory; forgetfulness; inability to learn from mistakes
Dualistic thinking (limiting available options to yes/no, black/white, no room for gray area); setting up sides
Denial and dishonesty (problems “don’t exist” and lies protect the status quo)
Isolation (allows for one reality as the only reality) & self-centeredness (organization feels that it is the center of the universe)
Judgmentalism (adds the element of “bad” to people’s choices, especially when views are expressed that are counter-cultural)
Perfectionism (mistakes are not allowed)
Confusion and crisis orientation (everyone is always trying to figure out what is going on)
Manipulating consumers (covering up faulty products or faulty functioning)
Control (including personnel practices that are built on punishment not reward, as well as the belief that the organization can control how it is seen by others), and
Lots of time and attention working on structure (looking for cosmetic ways of addressing problems rather than attempting to discover root causes)
Whew! Now that’s a long list of symptoms! (Yet another list, sorry!) Yet, for the purposes of summarizing the model here, I’ve tried to be quite concise.
My question: I just wonder if there is anybody else who might be seeing and experiencing any of my current reality?
Scary Stuff
So, it’s Halloween ... supposedly the scariest day of the year.
My thought: Ha!
This evening I finished voting in the November election. (For those of you reading this from outside of Oregon, remember that we’re the one state that is exclusively vote-by-mail. I will put my ballot in the mail tomorrow.) As I complete my personal part of this electoral process, I look forward to next Tuesday, November 7th, as the most terrifying day of 2006. The stakes are high for the country. The stakes are high for Oregon. And the stakes are high for me. Let me explain ...
Nationally, we need to elect a congress, both House and Senate, that will stand up to George W. and his failed foreign policy. And bring an end to this fiasco in Iraq. This is an absolute must.
Additionally, the voters of Oregon need to reject the latest of the wildly-insane ballot measures that would lead to catastrophic cuts in state spending and cripple our education sectors and other highly-critical state-funded services.
Finally, and obviously, the outcome of the election is of personal import, because I work in public higher education and we receive a large portion of our support from the state’s general fund. The huge cuts that would result from the passage of Measures 41 and/or 48 would almost certainly dictate eventual job loss for me and perhaps the inability to ever be employed here in my working life again.
Watch out for those Oregon voters. Now they’re scary.
More Amazements
I’ve written previously about holding a 6-hour-old infant in my arms in January of 2004. I’d never experienced anything quite like that before. That little one is almost three years old now, and I had an opportunity to spend just a little bit more time around her yesterday. What a delightful person little Gracie is! Especially great were the hug and kiss I got when I departed her grandmother’s house. Wow.