Category: Four pillars

Introduction: Background and influences

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, then you’d have come across the name of Clay Spinuzzi. I’ve been following his work for about five years now, and had the privilege of meeting him for breakfast while vacationing in Austin in the summer of 2008. Clay introduced the term “ambient signalling” into my thought process, a key ingredient in the thought process that led to this post. It made me read his work on organisational genres and on participatory design, often within the perspective of networks.

A number of other people have also influenced me considerably when it comes to this particular post, and I’d like to declare my debt to them at the outset. Howard Rheingold (whom I was meant to meet earlier this week, but couldn’t, as a result of my unwisely choosing to tear ankle ligaments rather than fall down) really set the scene for me over two decades ago in his Whole Earth Review and WELL writings, followed by his excellent book on The Virtual Community in the early 1990s; one of his other books, Smart Mobs, which I read nearly a decade ago, was also a key influence.

The next breakthrough came when, as a subscriber to Chris “Rageboy” Locke’s Entropy Gradient Reversals, I was taken on my first ride on the Cluetrain. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read The Cluetrain Manifesto, but it’s in double digits. [Disclosure: I met Chris soon after the book was published, Doc soon after that, David shortly after that and Rick a few years later; they remain good friends of mine, and I was deeply honoured when they asked me to contribute a guest chapter to the 10th Anniversary edition of the book.] Cluetrain really got me thinking about community interaction from a business perspective, beyond the fortress-like walls of the corporation.

Around the same time, I had the opportunity to read Amy Jo Kim’s excellent Community Building on the Web. Over the years I’ve bought at least five copies of the book, it’s one of those regularly borrowed, rarely returned; I had the opportunity to meet her at Supernova some years ago. The book sparked my personal interest in game design and game mechanics from a business perspective, something Amy Jo continues to work on with her usual flair.

Shortly after that, I read Steven Johnson’s Emergence, deepening my understanding of slime mould and ants and swarming, all against the context I’ve described above. I’ve had the opportunity to meet Steven since, and continue to follow his work as well; he really helped me understand something about headlessness, how everything is a node in the network.

The final, and critical, influence was that of Clay Shirky, whose blog I followed religiously over the years, even when his output shifted more to books and speeches. It was he who helped me bring all this together with the trenchancy of his analysis of how communities work. Insights from him on three aspects helped establish my thinking: to create sustainable commons material, the cost of repair should be at least as low as the cost of damage (the undo button in Wikipedia is an example); that there is no such thing as information overload, only filter failure (which helped me understand something about the recommending, curating, filtering roles of network members); and that in the age of knowledge workers, much good can be achieved by effective use of what Clay terms Cognitive Surplus, the title of his most recent book. I’ve known Clay for some time as well. We had a delightful lunch together in Davis this year, and I visited him at Tisch when I was last in New York, a wonderful set-up.

Why am I telling you all this? Two reasons. Firstly, to give thanks where thanks is due, to point out the people who have influenced and inspired me in this particular context. Secondly, as a consequence, to give you the opportunity to go deeper into the influences, research things for yourself. Some of you obviously know all this, have read all the books, met the authors; for you, this may seem onerous and repetitive, and you’ve probably skipped all this anyway. This introductory section is for the rest of the readers.

Pheromones

For a few years now, I’ve been looking at information systems and services as if they were biological in origin, serene in the attitude that, if the 20th century was meant to be the age of physics, the century we live in will be characterised as the age of biology. Using that perspective, it was only a matter of time before the “ambient signalling” spoken about by Clay Spinuzzi would start feeling like the pheromones laid down by ants as they go about their chores. Which, unsurprisingly, led me to Wikipedia, to start reading up on pheromones.

There I found the definition of “pheromone” to be: a secreted or excreted chemical factor that triggers a social response in members of the same species. Now that interested me greatly. A “social response” as opposed to any other kind of response. So I looked further, and Wikipedia informed me that Peter Karlson and Martin Luscher introduced the term “pheromone” in 1959, to influence specific behaviours from two or more “conspecifics”, members of the same species. The intended etymology of the neologism was itself of interest: they formed this word from the Greek roots pherein (to transport, to bear) and hormone (stimulus, impetus): so a pheromone became something that was a carrier of stimuli. Hmmm.

Types of pheromones

It turns out that there are many types of pheromones, classified in different ways. You have the concept of primer, releaser and information pheromones: primers kick off changes in development events, releasers make you change your behaviour, and information pheromones just tell you things. If you look further, you find far more detailed classifications of pheromones: aggregation, alarm, epideictic, signal, terrotorial, trail, sex, and so on. If you’re interested, please read the Wikipedia article on pheromones yourself, which gives you the basics on pheromone types.

Intriguingly, “there are physical limits on the practical size of organisms employing pheromones”.

Twitter, Chatter and their pub-sub nature

I’ve always thought of Twitter as a publish-subscribe mechanism, and, in similar vein, of Chatter as an enterprise bus with pub-sub built in. [Disclosure: I’m Chief Scientist at Salesforce, the people behind Chatter. It’s one of the key reasons I joined the company]. I’ve been lucky enough to work with people who’ve believed in bus-based architectures for some time now; and, ever since delving into EDI in the early 1980s, I’ve been a convert to recipient “beneficiary” driven transaction and messaging systems.

Over the years, as I’ve continued to play with Twitter and with Chatter, their innate strength-from-simplicity has become more apparent to me. Which is why I wrote posts describing Twitter as a “submarine in the ocean of the web” some years ago. I’ve been able to use Twitter to rescue hamsters lost down holes in floorboards, to get visas for foreign travel, to collect hand-me-down recipes for ragu, to acquire limited-release CDs in the city of origin, the list goes on and on. And, now that I’ve been using Chatter in anger for the past six months, I’ve been able to learn something about its differentiated value. How following “things” as well as people becomes valuable in a business context. How exception handling becoming the norm is no longer a frightening thought. How closed and open groups can overlap and coexist. How institutional memory is established and rekindled, how new forms of knowledge leadership emerge as a result.

Tweets as pheromones, and their Chatter equivalents

Nearly a year ago, I spent some time looking at why we share and what we share, using tools like Twitter. More recently, I took this further, in a three-part post looking at social objects and their role in such communal enterprise activities, which you can read here, here and here. And a few weeks ago, I tried to put all this in the context of why sharing is important in the enterprise, a theme I looked at tongue-in-cheek here.

Which brings me to the nub of this post.

“Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it”

Like falling in love, providing signals meant for sharing is normal and natural. We have to start thinking of tweets as the knowledge worker’s pheromones. Signalling. Alerting. Marking out “territory”. Warning off. Pointing towards food or shelter. Looking for relationship. Sometimes preparatory, sometimes catalytic, sometimes just plain old informative.

But always social, always designed to share.

Sometimes only visible to your “conspecifics”, to those belonging to your own species.

Sometimes visible to all.

Sometimes reinforced by repeated overlays and relays.

But always  always social, always always designed to share.

More later, as I extend this theme into compound and multi-authored shared signals, and of the immense value in being able to record, replay, aggregate, analyse.

That’s for my next post….that’s if I find the comments and feedback such that writing a next post becomes worth the while. [Reminds me of an apocryphal Churchill-Bernard Shaw story. Shaw is meant to have sent Churchill a pair of tickets to the opening night of one of his plays, saying “bring a friend… if you have one”. Churchill is meant to have replied, returning the tickets, “can’t make opening night. will make second. if you have one.”

 

 

 

To paraphrase Peter Drucker, the primary purpose of a business is to create customers, people who are able and willing to part with their money to buy goods and services from you.

To paraphrase Ronald Coase, the primary purpose of a firm is to reduce business transaction costs, principally the costs of information, search, contracting and enforcement.

Words like “sharing” and “social” are often treated as fluffy and ephemeral and Utopian and otherworldly, dismissed as being too pinko-lefty-tree-hugger to make business sense.

Which begs the question. What makes business sense?

In this context, I think it’s reasonable to assert that anything that helps businesses to create customers and/or to reduce transaction costs is worth doing, “makes business sense”.

So any debate about the value of “sharing” and of “social” in the enterprise needs to consider these things.

Social networks reduce transaction costs in a number of ways. Search costs are reduced as a result of network-driven recommendations, votes, ratings, increasing signal and quieting the noise. Some of these are “passive” outcomes, where the value is a function of the overall size of the network, provided as an anonymous aggregation. Much of collaborative filtering falls into this category. As against this, we also have “active” outcomes, where the value is a function of the size of your network, provided as an “onymous” recommendation to you by a person or people with real knowledge of you and your needs. Contracting costs are reduced as a result of the ability to have transferable, “nested” trust: you imbue trust on to the people trusted by those you trust. Enforcement costs also reduce as a result of this trust daisy-chain, since adherence to common principles and rules is made easier in an environment of trust, simplifying the process of recourse in the event of breach.

Sharing also reduces transaction costs in a number of ways. As Linus’s Law put it, given enough eyeballs all bugs are shallow. Transparently shared information is less likely to contain errors, as a result of the crowdsourced “proofreading” that takes place. Tasks that would otherwise be hard to parallelise are made parallel through sharing techniques, as seen in the way people study satellite imagery in order to find big things that have been lost for years. Even the tragic death of Steve Fossett had an unintended outcome: the discovery of the locations of many crashed planes as a result of thousands of people poring over thousands of images. There’s also the question of liberating latent “cognitive surplus”. Knowledge work is intrinsically lumpy in character: it comes in peaks and troughs rather than in a smoothed out manner. But people are not prepared to look unemployed as a result of that lumpiness, for fear of losing their jobs. So they busy themselves with the only tool provided to them: meetings. By sharing information resources and providing the right tools to create, find, check and correct information where required, firms can convert such cognitive surplus into tangible value, as error rates drop.

In similar vein, social networks help us understand customer intentions, needs and wants more accurately, by bringing the customer into the conversation and providing that customer with a voice. Tools to monitor, analyse and report on the conversations taking place are improving as we speak.

These conversations don’t take place in walled gardens but out in the open, the shared spaces of life, both in culture as well as in technology and architecture. Markets are conversations, as Doc Searls said. It is through the sharing of social objects that communities form and grow.

The social objects have another critical use: they form rolling stones that gather the moss of metadata we all need. As we move from hierarchies of product and customer to networks of capabilities and relationships, the topology of the business and the firm changes. Vertical integration is replaced by an architecture best defined as high cohesion with loose coupling or, if you prefer, small pieces loosely joined, to quote David Weinberger.

This horizontalisation of industry and business is taking place while one other major shift takes place, the democratisation of access to real computing power. Neither telcos nor IT companies have any control of the device at the edge of the service. Without end-to-end control, and in a small-pieces-daisy-chained world, it is no longer possible to have a finite number of low-volatility repeatable processes.

Instead we have patterns.

And as we move from process management and execution to pattern recognition and response, the metadata we collect becomes more important; the ability to spot patterns in the data and in the metadata becomes more important; the ability to extrapolate from the data to the pattern becomes more important. Which in turn means we have to get better at how we describe things, again something that requires us to consider the concept of cognitive surplus, how to apply it, how to convert it into value for our customers, for our business, for our shareholders.

Businesses exist to create customers. They are organised into firms in order to reduce transaction costs. The use of social and sharing tools within the enterprise needs to be looked at in these contexts and not dismissed out of hand as is often the case.

 

 

 

This is a post recommending that you buy a particular book. Now I’ve written many book reviews in the past, recommended that you read many books in the past. So what’s so different about this particular book? What makes it special?

Well, first off, I haven’t actually read the book.

There’s a good reason for that.

It hasn’t been published as yet.

It may not quite be written as yet.

In which case….

What am I doing reviewing and recommending a book that may not have been written yet?

Simple.

I love the idea of the book, and want to promote it.

[Incidentally, my thanks to @cyberdoyle for bringing it to my attention. I’d noticed mention of it on my radar screen, but hadn’t had the time to check it out. @cyberdoyle, a fascinating person, someone you should all follow, made sure I did.]

So what’s the book?

Quakebook.

As the blog says:

A Twitter-sourced charity book about how the Great Kanto Pacific Earthquake at 2:46 on March 11, 2011 affected us all. All proceeds from the QuakeBook Book go to the Japan Red Cross.

Interesting in finding out more about the book’s origins? Then check out #quakebook on Twitter.

Want to keep in touch with what’s happening with the book? Then follow @quakebook on twitter.

Want to donate now, rather than wait for the book? (Yes, I know you’ve already donated, this is to encourage you to donate more).  Then buy the poster.

Not really a twitter kind of person, more of a LinkedIn type? Then check this out.

Or maybe you’re more mainstream, so facebook is more your thing? Then go here.

Want to know more here and now? Then here’s @cyberdoyle’s wordle of the book:

Why wait? Why not just go and put your name down to buy the book as soon as it is out?

Then just go here. Do it now.

Blog it. Tweet it. Like it. Share it.

Do it.

Now.

A coda. Why? Because somehow the #quakebook phenomenon seemed to go well with the understated stoicness of the people of Japan, particularly at this time. Time for us to stand with the people of Japan. The people who gave us bonsai. The haiku. Origami. Chanoyu. Netsuke. Sashimi. The list is endless. A way of life, styles and habits, an entire culture steeped in dignity and consideration and respect and patience.

I spent much of my childhood and youth in an unusual household, on the 4th floor of a block of flats in central/south Calcutta. Surrounded by books, and by people who’d actually read the books. Full of life, from about 5am to around 1am, and sometimes in between. Populated by around 10 “residents” (including me, my 4 siblings and my parents), and on average another half-dozen “guests” (who sometimes spent more time there than some of the residents). It was not unusual to have two dozen people there of an evening, in what was meant to be 1500 square foot of 2-bedroomed flat.

Wonderful times.

There’d always be something going on. Duplicate bridge in this corner; chess there; carroms in the next room; an intense game of scrabble; a guitar being strummed pensively; late 60s-early 70s music playing in the background, the odd game of cards. Even table-tennis, played on an amalgam of wooden desks with a line of books serving as the net.

If you didn’t feel like “playing” something, then you could just join in the conversation. Or conversations. Usually covering the simple stuff: religion, politics, sport, food and relationships. A classic adda. [Incidentally, I was delighted to find out that the OED now has an entry for adda]. And if you didn’t fancy that, then you could just kibitz, or stay in the corner where trivia questions were being lobbed across the room like water balloons.

In such surroundings you would expect a few odd things to be taken as normal. Doing the Times crossword was one of them; for most of my childhood, we took two copies of the Statesman; for a short period, we took three. My father would not countenance waking up without the day’s virgin Times crossword to complete.

It was a strange house, a literary house. People would wander about spouting poetry from Herrick to Coleridge, Burns to Ogden Nash, trade quotations from Shakespeare and Shaw, sayings from Wilde and PG Wodehouse, Churchill and Caryl Brahms.

Some managed to go placidly amidst the noise and haste, reading whatever took their fancy. Not just fiction and nonfiction, but reference books as well. Of which we had a goodly many. They included, amongst others,  Chambers’ 20th Century Dictionary. Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations.  Hobson-Jobson.

And Fowler’s Modern English Usage, a personal favourite. (My thanks to Skoob Books for discovering and sharing the rare photo of Henry Watson Fowler).

Which brings me to the point of this post.

One of my favourite sections of Modern English Usage, Fowler’s magnum opus, reads as follows:

respective(ly). Delight in these words is a wide-spread but depraved taste; like soldiers and policemen, they have work to do, but, when the work is not there, the less we see of them the better; of ten sentences in which they occur, nine would be improved by their removal. The evil is considerable enough to justify an examination at some length; examples may be sorted into six groups: A, in which the words give information needed by sensible readers; B, in which they give information that may be needed by fools; C, in which they say again what is said elsewhere; D, in which they say nothing intelligible; E, in which they are used wrongly for some other word; & F, in which they give a positively wrong sense.

The article then goes on to detail each of these six “uses”. Here’s what Fowler has to say about type B, “foolproof uses”:

The particular fool for whose benefit each respective(ly) is inserted will be defined in brackets. Final statements are expected to be made today by Mr Bonar Law & Mr Millerand in the House of Commons & the Chamber of Deputies respectively (r. takes care of the reader who does not know which gentleman or which Parliament is British, or who may imagine both gentlemen talking in both Parliaments). /The Socialist aim in forcing a debate was to compel the different groups to define their respective attitudes (the reader who may expect a group to define another group’s attitude). /It is very far from certain that any of the names now canvassed in Wall Street will secure the nomination at the respective Republican and Democratic Conventions (the reader who may think that Republicans and Democrats hold several united conventions)./ We have not the smallest doubt that this is what will actually happen, & we may discuss the situation on the footing that the respective fates of these two Bills will be as predicted (the reader who has read the prediction without sufficient attention to remember that it is double).

Foolproof uses. What a delightful turn of phrase.

You know something? I wish someone would write something similar on topics like shared, public and open, particularly when it comes to analysing costs.

How many degrees in rocket science does it take to be able to figure out that something shared will cost the sharers less than if each had that something in a not-shared state?

How clever does one have to be in order to figure out that building walls and doors and locks is more expensive than not building them?

What level of IQ does a person need to assess that something available to all is likely to be cheaper than something exclusive?

Making things private and closed and exclusive comes at a cost.

A cost that is considerably higher than that associated with making things public and open and shared.

There will always be reasons to make things private. But that is not the default.

There will always be reasons to make things closed. But that is not the default.

There will always be reasons to make things exclusive. But that is not the default.

People need to understand the waste involved in making things private, closed, exclusive when they don’t need to be so. More on this later.

Prologue

Given the depth and nature of conversations on this subject, I think I’d better let this one run for a while. Many of you have commented in different ways, by writing in, by talking to me, by commenting on this blog, or on Facebook or Twitter, or even by writing blog posts and pointing me towards them. Thank you everyone, I really appreciate it. It helps me learn, it is one of the reasons I write here.

[For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about, this is now the third post in an emergent series on Social Objects In The Enterprise. The first two can be found here and here.]

Foundations

Amongst the links, tweets and comments there were some posts and documents worth sharing with all.

For example, Todd Barnard pointed me towards the original post by Jyri Engestrom on Social Objects; I realised that while I referred to him repeatedly, I didn’t actually share the link, an absolute must-read. So thank you Todd. Similarly, while the terms “systems of engagement” and “systems of record” may be quite common now, Geoff Moore wrote extensively about them a month or so ago, in a paper entitled Systems Of Engagement and the Future of Enterprise IT. My thanks to John Mancini of AIIM for alerting me to this.

There are many influences for the rest of this post, key amongst them being Esther Dyson (who’s often mentored me without always knowing she’s doing it), Hugh Macleod (who introduced me to the work of Jyri Engestrom), John Seely Brown (for making me think about how information flows and how organisations really learn), Steven Johnson (for bringing “emergence” into my understanding), Howard Rheingold, Stewart Brand and Amy Jo Kim (for helping me gain some perspective on virtual communities), John Hagel (who, with JSB and with Lang Davison, continues to influence me about flow, non-linearity and patterns) and Clay Shirky (who keeps making sure I think hard about what’s happening in the firm, and in the world at large, by foisting “rules” upon me that give me a fresh and worthwhile insight. I am still working through the implications of cognitive surplus in the enterprise).

The ideas I’ve inherited as a result of spending time with many of the people named above, and by reading what they’ve written, have all tended to be absorbed in a framework whose foundation was laid by The Cluetrain Four: Doc Searls, David Weinberger, Chris Locke and Rick Levine. Tom Malone’s The Future of Work and Ricardo Semler’s Maverick were early influences as well; Sean Park, an erstwhile colleague at Dresdner Kleinwort, helped me enormously as well, particularly with the discussions we’ve had over the years about Carlota Perez’s work.

Why am I sharing all this and making this post sound a bit like an introduction to a book? Because I think people learn by “getting inside other people’s heads”. Because I think that in future, quite a lot of organisational learning will take place this way, as the cost of discovering roots and catalysts and influences, of sharing them and of being able to augment them, reduces sharply.

Some more links

This is almost a bibliography in reverse; what I’m doing here is linking to a few earlier posts of mine you may find useful in making sense of the rest of this post:

• Building society for the 21st century
• About this blog
• Twitter: A submarine in the ocean of the web
• Facebook: the new new telco
• The Maker Generation in the enterprise
• The Facebookisation of the Enterprise
• Of Push and Pull
• Facebook and the Enterprise: Part 5: Knowledge Management
• Facebook and the Enterprise: Part 1
• Why we share: A sideways look

Some of them date back over five years; none of them is essential reading for you to absorb the rest of this post; but for those of you who’re interested, I believe it will help you.

The role of social objects in the enterprise

(a) Assumptions

There are some core assumptions underlying my writing all this, I think it’s worth laying them out. First, that what passes for work in most enterprises is knowledge work. Second, that there is a war for talent when it comes to hiring knowledge workers. Third, that enterprises are changing from being hierarchies of customers and products to networks of relationships and capabilities, that human and social capital are gaining in prominence. Fourth, that the way we work is also changing, from stocks to flows, from the static to the dynamic, from the linear to the non-linear. Fifth, that there’s a new generation in the workplace, with newer still to come, born after the internet, trained in the web, equipped with always-on ubiquitous tools that can read and write text and sound and image and film.

And finally, we’re in a global social, political and economic environment that we’ve never really experienced before, where the pace of change is vast, and where knowing what to do isn’t a simple thing. An environment where the spectrum and continuum of enterprise is undergoing radical change, with some heading towards the hyperglobal low-touch model, some towards the hyperlocal high-touch variant, and where the in-betweeners, the “nationals”, don’t know what to do: they’re stuck in the same place countries and governments are, seeking to figure out their role in the new global structures.

(b) Rationale

Against the backdrop of those assumptions, it is not difficult to put forward an argument about the need to move from process-based thinking to to pattern–based thinking, with greater reliance on immediate information, with more emphasis on data-driven and event-driven activity.

In this context, it’s worth taking a look at this post by Thierry de Baillon on Moving Beyond Work as Usual in A Complex World, along with a post he refers to, Venessa Miemis’s Essential Skills for 21st Century Survival: Part 1: Pattern Recognition. [My thanks to John Hagel for bringing the de Baillon post to my attention, and for reminding me of the Pattern Recognition post by Venessa Miemis].

We have to start thinking about social objects in the enterprise as having two primary purposes: to collect patterns, via the metadata generated around the social object; and to collect pattern recognisers, via the communities built around the social object.

Chris Locke, when I first met him over a decade ago, spent time explaining to me the importance of “organic gardening”, a catchall for the role played by interests other than work in building community amongst the people at work. What he said resonated with me, particularly with what I’d learnt from phenomena like the WELL.

People who congregate electronically around digital social objects form relationships with each other as a result of that congregation; there are birds-of-a-feather-like effects, the bringing together of people with similar interests, though not necessarily similar views on those interests.

These people who are brought together tend to avoid the herd-instinct problem primarily because of this, the tendency to congregate around interests rather than views on the interests. Politics rather than the red-or-blue of party politics. Football rather than the red-or-blue of Manchester or Liverpool. Religion rather than the red-or-blue of Catholic or Protestant. Technology rather than the red-or-blue of Google or Microsoft.

Because they come together with a commonality of interest but a diversity of views, the likelihood of Linus’s Law increases: Given enough eyeballs, all bugs are shallow. So when such people collaborate, the quality of collaboration tends to be high.

Then, when you bring in the Clay Shirky concept of “cognitive surplus”, the potential for radical change in the enterprise emerges. People working together to correct the raw data and information bases that underpin the technical infrastructure of the firm, the extended enterprise, the market, the economy.

Social objects will also themselves become repositories of metadata related to relationships and information flows and collaborative activity, increasing the amount of information available about the actors and activities, and thereby reducing the likelihood of friction and tension between collaborators a la Gregory Benford’s Law :  passion is inversely proportional to the amount of real information available.

My next post will be about examples of social objects in the enterprise. In the meantime, please keep the comments coming.