Once More Into the Intellectual Breach, or My Brain is Taking Baby Steps Back to Functionality
I was in Barnes and Noble the other day for the first time in a long time. I spent the morning wandering up and down the aisles, breathing in the scent of paper and coffee, running my fingers gently over the spines of titles I read absentmindedly since I was mostly lost in the comfort of familiar surroundings. It was also the first time in a long time that I allowed myself to spend some money on books. I bought three: Good to Great and the Social Sectors, Ringworld by Larry Niven, and Us & Them: The Science of Identity. It has become apparent that, Ringworld aside, my purchases have similar themes. I have finished Good to Great, it being a monograph of only thirty pages, and I'm in the middle of Us & Them. The point, though, is that I read an article in a recent edition of The Economist that brought about this realization, as it, too, has a similar theme.
The Economist article was lambasting current governments who, a la ideas espoused by Jean-Baptiste Colbert, French beaurecrat, have begun taking over portions of the private sector (primarily banking) in an effort to mitigate what is now nearly universally considered a global financial crisis. The primary point of the article was to state that government officials have no business running businesses, which are better left to businessmen. Does that make sense?
This relates to the Good to Great monograph in that the author, Jim Collins, suggests that the social sector should not be run like a business, or according to "business model" principles. His rationale is based on the idea that most businesses are not that competently run, and rather than organize the social sector along failing lines, both the business and social sectors should focus on those principles that lead to greatness (which, of course, he has outlined in his book, Good to Great, the original one).
These two ideas got me thinking about generalizations versus particularities, synthesizing versus compartmentalization. And that thought naturally led to the concepts introduced in Us & Them. I haven't read that far into this book, but based on the preface and introduction (very well laid out, I might add. A graduate student's ideal format), the basic premise is that humans are hard-wired to generalize and stereotype and that this natural tendency can be a good thing. Without going into too much detail, David Berreby made comments that led me to consider the historical practice of Anthropology. I realize that may sound like a stretch, but let me explain. Historically, Anthropologists have based their research on particularities--on what sets one culture apart from another. Research has focused on distinguishing difference. Of course, that led to all sorts of nasty, pernicious little conclusions like the Great Chain of Being, and the notion that different races are akin to different species. I point this out because my personal tendency, in research and in life, is to synthesize and look for points of similarity, and Berreby makes a case for this, claiming that if we focus more on what we have in common than on what distinguishes us, we, as a united species, might have a better shot at peace.
So which is it? Should we attempt to synthesize and generalize? Or should we focus on particularities and allow differences to be differences? Berreby would say that finding points of commonality is ideal, while both Collins and The Economist author would point out that not everything can be generalized. Perhaps, however, that is the very point. These three authors are discussing somewhat different topics, meaning that the same principles cannot be universally applied. I'm talking in circles now aren't I?
My point, I think, is that we should be doing both. Some things require us to find nodes of similarity while others require us to allow for distinct processes. In terms of human relations, culture and identity and all that jazz, I certainly think we should be looking for generalizations and bridges of commonality; celebrate our diversity, but also celebrate that which binds us together. In economics and governance, however, perhaps allowing for distinction is one piece of a foundation for success. Collins may be correct in that "The critical distinction is not between business and social, but between great and good," (p. 2) but that does not negate the fact that business and government serve two very different functions and that therefore, they cannot necessarily be run along the same principles. Of course, Collins does address this in his monograph (the very purpose of writing it instead of directing social sector leaders to his original work), but I think the point bears repeating.
The author of The Economist article would agree from the other direction. There is no reason why government officials should consider running businesses--government and business are different entities with differing functions and differing goals, requiring differing measures for success. What this means, then, is that we should stop attempting to apply the same standards across the board. Allow for difference and measure success according to whether each sector is performing the job it is meant to perform. Business, I have been told repeatedly, is there to make a profit. Fine. The problem really arises when we attempt to determine the role of government and the social sector. This is where arguments begin, particularly in the United States. But I believe I will leave that topic for another day.
I'm just grateful that my trip to Barnes and Noble was so fruitful. Perhaps my brain hasn't taken a vacation afterall...
~snowdragonne
PS Ringworld is actually quite good. Larry Niven deals with themes similar to this in his various books, but again, something for another post, all its own.