thanks: pronghorn image CC by brothergrimmI like to find ideas anywhere, but particularly in unexpected places. In reading wideranging topics, I make connections for myself that might be fruitful in some future circumstance, either directly, as analogies, or as doorways for insight.
My reading of Where the Wild Things Were by William Stolzenberg (amazon) is a perfect illustration.
Three-part Idea Schema, based in this case on reading.
Three-part Idea Schema, based in this case on reading.
1. Direct relevance of ideas:
Ecology and biodiversity are excellent topics for interdisciplinary reading and writing. Not only are students interested in nature, they are engaged in discussions of the natural world around them. The chapter on sea otters, urchins and orcas is transcendent.
Ecology and biodiversity are excellent topics for interdisciplinary reading and writing. Not only are students interested in nature, they are engaged in discussions of the natural world around them. The chapter on sea otters, urchins and orcas is transcendent.
2. As analogy:
I came to purchase and read this book because of the plight of the proghorn antelope. Writer Juliet Eilperin reviewed the book on NPR.org, where I happened to be intrigued about the idea of eco-friendly writing for my students, as I outlined above. This passage sold me:
The idea of predator vs. herd is an analogy that is used often in illustrating leadership (top hit for "leadership+wolves+herd"), we have a bit different situation here. The predator is missing, which leaves the pronghorn's elegantly-evolved feature set, if not disabled, purposeless. Having spent much time ruminating this summer on purpose (in the form of purposeful ambiguity) and meaning, the plight of the pronghorn strikes me as a perfect example of an organization lacking sharp leadership skills and instead relies on the herd mentality to guide it.
Inasmuch as the specifics of "predator" and "leader" are not readily conflatable, I think a close examination between the dynamics between large predators and biodiversity will yield an abundance of organizational lessons, which leads me to:
3. Doorway for insight:
The actual inspiration from this post came from Soltzenberg page 127, writing on a study of San Diego-area chapparal by Michael Soulé. The study concerned bird populations in urbanizing areas, which essentially become cut off from each other like islands in an archipelago. Several of the chapters deal with this "island biogeography theory" as it's called in that particular scientific realm, and as I read more and more, it became clear to me that the idea is close to what happens in schools and other large institutions where time and space separate professionals from close contact and collaboration. Professionals are not given the chance to cross-pollinate ideas and practices except in the most accidental and superficial ways like department meetings or in-service days, where time is precious and some outside agenda usually dominates.
Soulé posits that in the absence of large predators (wolves, bears, pumas), these urbanized "islands" give rise to a host of medium-sized predators like snakes, cats, racoons, coyotes and the like. The behavior of these mesopredators, as Soulé labels them, is damaging overall because they drive diversity to the brink of extinction. Just as a few racoons and bluejays can ravage a songbird population in an urban park, so too can middle management, the mesopredators inside organizations, ravage workers and ideas inside the office park.
What's wrong with a landscape of mesopredators but no large predators?
Absent of predators, species become obsolete, the pronghorn, the second-fastest land animal on the planet, has no need for its exquisite acceleration and speed, its particular evolutionary niche. Interestingly, the yellow coyote, a prototypical mesopredator, is a fearsome opponent for the pronghorn, but not because it chases and hunts this fast animal, but because it has learned, in Yellowstone specifically, to kill newly-calved fawns. The reason the coyote is there is that wolves are not. The mesopredator thrives in the absence of the large predator, and so the entire ecosystemwide diversity suffers.
So how is a leader like a predator?
This is a much more complex analogy than it seems. One one hand, the relation between mesopredators and middle management seems relatively clear. On the other, Soulé's theory is controversial even within his own community. Let me explore some connections.
A. Our school/organization is mesopredator-heavy.
Like the forest with too many racoons, opossums, cats, bluejays, etc. all preying on songbirds and smaller animals, the layers of bureaucracy stifle individualism and the expression of creativity (related topic: creativity with structure). In some districts, the building principal is the highest of mesopredators instead of being a true large predator. Add in your assistant administrators, your department & team leaders, your quasi-administrative staff and you have a host of people interfering with idea diversity.
One of the interesting symbols of the large predator is the image of individuality- we think of the "lone wolf," the "king of the jungle," the "killer instinct." Tough, fierce and aggressive. Except, in many cases, large predators work in teams. Wolves pack, led by an alpha to be sure, but they hunt in tandem. Lions are similar, a pride exists which is stronger than the individual hunter. Orcas hunt in pods, communicating and learning strategies. Predator leaders are really not somehow rogue and separate, they are tightly integrated into their social groupings. This integration is what I think about when I look at effective leaders.
I came to purchase and read this book because of the plight of the proghorn antelope. Writer Juliet Eilperin reviewed the book on NPR.org, where I happened to be intrigued about the idea of eco-friendly writing for my students, as I outlined above. This passage sold me:
In one passage, a pronghorn antelope races against a truck, keeping pace without faltering. It's a beautiful — and haunting — scene; sadly, the antelope's finely honed survival mechanism is out of place in a world where there are few predators left to chase this magnificent herd.
The idea of predator vs. herd is an analogy that is used often in illustrating leadership (top hit for "leadership+wolves+herd"), we have a bit different situation here. The predator is missing, which leaves the pronghorn's elegantly-evolved feature set, if not disabled, purposeless. Having spent much time ruminating this summer on purpose (in the form of purposeful ambiguity) and meaning, the plight of the pronghorn strikes me as a perfect example of an organization lacking sharp leadership skills and instead relies on the herd mentality to guide it.
Inasmuch as the specifics of "predator" and "leader" are not readily conflatable, I think a close examination between the dynamics between large predators and biodiversity will yield an abundance of organizational lessons, which leads me to:
3. Doorway for insight:
The actual inspiration from this post came from Soltzenberg page 127, writing on a study of San Diego-area chapparal by Michael Soulé. The study concerned bird populations in urbanizing areas, which essentially become cut off from each other like islands in an archipelago. Several of the chapters deal with this "island biogeography theory" as it's called in that particular scientific realm, and as I read more and more, it became clear to me that the idea is close to what happens in schools and other large institutions where time and space separate professionals from close contact and collaboration. Professionals are not given the chance to cross-pollinate ideas and practices except in the most accidental and superficial ways like department meetings or in-service days, where time is precious and some outside agenda usually dominates.
Soulé posits that in the absence of large predators (wolves, bears, pumas), these urbanized "islands" give rise to a host of medium-sized predators like snakes, cats, racoons, coyotes and the like. The behavior of these mesopredators, as Soulé labels them, is damaging overall because they drive diversity to the brink of extinction. Just as a few racoons and bluejays can ravage a songbird population in an urban park, so too can middle management, the mesopredators inside organizations, ravage workers and ideas inside the office park.
What's wrong with a landscape of mesopredators but no large predators?
Absent of predators, species become obsolete, the pronghorn, the second-fastest land animal on the planet, has no need for its exquisite acceleration and speed, its particular evolutionary niche. Interestingly, the yellow coyote, a prototypical mesopredator, is a fearsome opponent for the pronghorn, but not because it chases and hunts this fast animal, but because it has learned, in Yellowstone specifically, to kill newly-calved fawns. The reason the coyote is there is that wolves are not. The mesopredator thrives in the absence of the large predator, and so the entire ecosystemwide diversity suffers.
So how is a leader like a predator?
This is a much more complex analogy than it seems. One one hand, the relation between mesopredators and middle management seems relatively clear. On the other, Soulé's theory is controversial even within his own community. Let me explore some connections.
A. Our school/organization is mesopredator-heavy.
Like the forest with too many racoons, opossums, cats, bluejays, etc. all preying on songbirds and smaller animals, the layers of bureaucracy stifle individualism and the expression of creativity (related topic: creativity with structure). In some districts, the building principal is the highest of mesopredators instead of being a true large predator. Add in your assistant administrators, your department & team leaders, your quasi-administrative staff and you have a host of people interfering with idea diversity.
One of the interesting symbols of the large predator is the image of individuality- we think of the "lone wolf," the "king of the jungle," the "killer instinct." Tough, fierce and aggressive. Except, in many cases, large predators work in teams. Wolves pack, led by an alpha to be sure, but they hunt in tandem. Lions are similar, a pride exists which is stronger than the individual hunter. Orcas hunt in pods, communicating and learning strategies. Predator leaders are really not somehow rogue and separate, they are tightly integrated into their social groupings. This integration is what I think about when I look at effective leaders.
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