Helene Blowers recently discussed ways to crush innovation at her blog. It’s a favorite theme of hers; mine, too. Innovation, that is. Not crushing it.
I appreciate the notion, articulated near the end of the post, that innovators should prepare for obstacles and have counterarguments in the hopper. I’d go one step further and argue that if you want to succeed as an innovator, you have to be able to understand the emotional perspective of the crushers, and address their fears and concerns.
So many articles talk about roadblocks to change, and many, if not most, of them cast the “crushers” in a perjorative light. The verb “crush” itself implies active opposition, as if there’s a shadowy cabal sitting around your director’s office, just waiting for you to have an idea so they can stomp it into the ground.
I would argue that nobody gets up in the morning and consciously says to themselves, “How can I crush innovation at my library today?” It seems to me, based on my own experience trying to be an innovator around here, that opposition to change is born of fear of the unknown. Many people need to feel safe before they move forward; this is, I think, both natural and normal. Also, the first wave of librarians 2.0 is just now starting to shore up the processes and templates for new technologies; can you blame the powers that be for wanting to see the roadmap before they start the trip? Perhaps, instead of outrage, what we really need is more compassion for our opponents’ pov.
“But, but, but,” I can hear you sputtering. “But we have to move forward!” And yes, we certainly do. I, however, would prefer to move forward with my peers. That is, after all, the whole point of moving: that we all go together. I like the other librarians. I like the managers. I like the administrators. They’ve all taught me a lot, and some of them sign my checks. Why would I want to leave them behind? Isn’t it my responsibility, as the innovator, to create the cogent argument that makes them want to come along with me?
So if that means writing a proposal, you write the proposal. Or form the committee. Get more details. Talk to whomever you’re asked to talk to. These are your opportunities to demonstrate good faith. Show your opponents what’s in it for them. Speak in language they understand, and really listen to their concerns, then take the time to form cogent counterarguments they will actually hear. And if you fail, try again, as often as you have to. Draw the map for your library. Make the trip sound inviting. Be the squeaky wheel, yes, but be the squeaky wheel that gets the grease, not replaced. Seems to have worked out fine for me personally thus far (she said, knocking wood).
You know who could have been a great librarian 2.0? Tom Sawyer. When given the task of whitewashing a fence, Tom managed to wheedle his friends into it by making fence-whitewashing seem like the most attractive task in human history. Before the day was over, the fence was done, because Tom was able to convince his skeptical friends that it would be a worthwhile endeavor for everybody concerned (especially him, but let’s leave the chicanery aside for the moment). That sort of moxie can go a long way toward creating change. You have the interesting ideas, but do you have the moxie?
Feel free to discuss and disagree – it would be a boring biblioblogosphere if we all felt the same. Some people like drawing the map, some people like following the map, and some people say, “Heck with the map, let’s go off-roading, whee!” Which kind of person are you, and what works best for you when it come to change and innovation at your library?