Chapter II
High Performance Systems Defined

Peter Vaill declined to define a High Performing System, which appears reasonable since we always seem to know one when we meet. It simply does better than the competition, and usually a lot better. Despite Vaill’s hesitance I feel compelled to make some effort at definition, which may be yet another example of fools rushing in where angels fear to tread. However, I am not insensitive to the risks involved, and therefore have chosen to back into the task by starting with a definition that I know does not work.

High Performance Defined as the Absence of Its Opposites

It is tempting to define an HPS in terms of the absence of the apparent opposites, such things as chaos, confusion, and conflict. If only we could rid our systems of this trio then perhaps order, clear thinking, and peace would reign. Under these circumstances, high performance would appear to be inevitable, or at least clearly within our grasp.

There is some problem with this approach, however, in that all three of these (chaos, confusion, and conflict) seem to be essential to living, and therefore their elimination would do substantial damage to life, to say nothing of high performing life. For those of us who cherish a pacific lifestyle, such an assertion verges on the outrageous, but consider the following.

Chaos

The antidote for order, and most especially The Established Order——represents the dissolution of things as they were. It is always uncomfortable, not to say painful, but if we are ever going to experience novelty, space is required for the emergence of the new. Indeed scientists are now telling us that not only is chaos a part of life, a fact we know all too well, but that chaos is essential to life. Without chaos, there would be no life. Obviously this represents a distinct departure from that part of the conventional wisdom which perceives a meaningful life to be one of balance and equilibrium. However, as a biologist friend pointed out——when you reach equilibrium in biology, you are dead. The sad truth of the matter is that there is precisely one instant in our entire existence when we achieve equilibrium, and that is in the moment of our dying. Until then we are in some state of dis-equilibrium, and that is life.

Confusion

Confusion is the intellectual equivalent of chaos, and like chaos, it has gifts to give, albeit painful ones. Confusion serves the useful function of muddling made up minds so that new ideas may break through. It is always disconcerting when it happens, but as long as we are confirmed in our settled opinions, the likelihood of seeing our world in new, different, and better ways will elude us. The onset of confusion is typically marked by the perception of anomaly. Things just aren’t working the way they are supposed to, and we are confronted with a choice. Perhaps our vision is impaired? Or perhaps the spectacles through which we have been viewing our life need to be replaced? It is all very confusing, but when, and if, the day arrives in which the perceived anomaly is no longer the exception, we will have reached the cutting edge of new knowledge. It may just be that confusion is the beginning of wisdom.

Conflict

Conflict is annoying at the least and lethal at the worst, but it does have its uses. In the world of ideas, conflict provides the necessary abrasive qualities to smooth rough ideas into real gems. And conflict can also consign bad ideas to the trash heap. For sure there is destruction, and in the case of dearly held ideas, no small amount of pain. But the net gain for us as individuals and organizations is unquestionably worth the pain——most especially if we are to achieve optimal levels of performance. The ideal of an organization free from conflict is, in my judgment, a dog that won’t hunt. In fact, if you will show me an organization without conflict, I will show you a dead one.

I submit that an understanding of a high performing system as being one in which chaos, confusion, and conflict have somehow been eliminated is a vain hope and a hollow shell, devoid of the very elements that make life and high performance possible. That the presence of the 3 C’s is painful and destructive cannot be denied. However, the act of destruction is essential to their function, and the associated pain is an unfortunate consequence. All of which brings us to a fourth element which is typically understood as being antithetical to performance at all levels, and certainly High Performance. That fourth element is Ending, and perhaps even Death.

Ending and Death

The simple truth of the matter is that as chaos, confusion, and conflict do their work, things come and go, they end. We could say they die. For fairly obvious reasons, we as human beings are not particularly happy with this arrangement. However, as things stand it is a fact——for every beginning there is an end. For every life there is a death.

Beyond the fact that no matter our feelings and hopes, Death and Ending hold an inescapable place in our world. It is also true that both make a positive contribution in our journey toward High Performance. And to the extent that we deny them their rightful place we inhibit our capacity to perform at high levels. Although this may appear massively counterintuitive, think about it for a moment. When we hang on tenaciously to the way things are, we preclude the possibility of serious improvement. Current thoughts, current practices, current modes of life may be familiar and dear, but their continued embrace bars the way to future evolution.

Toward an Understanding of High Performance

Chaos, confusion, conflict, in addition the ending and death cannot be seen as the enemies of high performance, for each contributes in substantive, albeit painful, ways to the elevation of the human enterprise. The fact that we might wish it differently does not change the reality that the 3 C’s and the Terminal Two come with the territory. Whatever understanding or definition of High Performance we may devise must not only include, but also transcend this troublesome quintet.

A Definition of High Performance

So how should we understand High Performance and define a High Performing System? I offer the following: High Performance is the productive interplay of diverse, complex forces, including chaos, confusion, and conflict, and characterized by wholeness, health, and harmony. It is harmonious, including all elements of harmony both consonance and dissonance, in that multiple forces work together to create a unitary flow. It is whole in the sense that there is a clear focus, direction, and purpose. It is healthy in that the toxins of its process (metabolic by-products in organisms) are eliminated effectively and without prejudice to itself or environment. High Performance can never be sustained at the cost of a fouled nest. A High Performing System is one that does all of the above with excellence, over time, and certainly better than comparable organizations.

Unpacking all of this will take some time, or more exactly the balance of this book. In the interim, and on the off chance that the relatively dry, academic definition may lack something when it comes to punch, permit me to offer an image. It is The River, the whole river in all of its seasons and places. And not just any river, but a mighty river coursing from its genesis to the sea, untrammeled by arbitrary barriers and boundaries, otherwise known as dams and levees.

Human beings seem to prefer domesticated rivers, but such rivers can never do their full work——and genuine high performance is not one of their characteristics. In addition to the placid interludes there are treacherous currents, wild rapids, occasional falls, and massive floods. There are warm days and cold days——days on which the humidity is so thick it must be cut with a knife, and other days when the chill winds of an arctic winter turn the massive flow into a solid state. The whole river, over its entire length, and through all of its days——doing its work reshaping and fertilizing the earth. That is my picture of High Performance.

Some 2600 years ago, the Chinese general, Sun Tsu, seems to have had a similar understanding. Writing in The Art of War, he said, “Thus the army does not maintain any constant strategic configuration of power, water has no constant shape. One who is able to change and transform in accord with the enemy and wrest victory is termed spiritual.” Of course the general is writing about armies and war, which may make some uncomfortable, but he clearly understood the power of flow. In short, this is not exactly a new idea.

Between Peter Vaill’s Behavioral Characteristics, Sun Tzu’s flowing water, and my attempts at definition, perhaps we now know what we’re looking for. But the question remains——how do we get there from here?