Autonomy is an innate psychological need in humans. Our basic nature is to be curious and self-directed.
In our jobs, we are most motivated and productive when we have autonomy over what we do, when we do it, how we do it, and with whom we do it.
Motivation 2.0 assumed that if people had freedom, they would shirk – and that autonomy was a way to bypass accountability.
How does that work when it comes to teamwork?
Several things come to mind, some just images:
- In t-ball, I noticed that some of the dad's would draw a circle in the sand around their kid to demark the area they were responsible for.
- In general, I think that is a not correct, but probably correct for a 3 year old who wants to run around looking at planes and making sand castles - In an assembly line, each person is responsible for a widget and has no need to view the bigger picture. Still, in that limited area, the person has some freedom in how the job is done - well maybe.
- On a fishing boat, on a Friday for "fun", there's some teamwork, some competition, some difference of goals, some preferred means to an end, some team cheering, some team jeering, some sides etc.
- In software, usually, there is a top-level requirement and implementation (how you satisfy that requirement) is left to a developer (or a team) - well maybe.
Personally, I don't much care for coordinating, taking or defining communication. I do like giving (or being a useful part of a team). In order to give or play on a team, I suppose you have to sacrifice some autonomy --- this is maybe why the companies mentioned split autonomous work from the other.
I think I like playing like Jazz. People just jump in, enjoy each other's quirks --- and find a rhythm and produce something. Maybe like pickup basketball (or yesterday's pickup kickball in Sante Fe, TX).
However, Jazz doesn't always work. I remember watching a Jazz concert where the piano guy, who was dang good, overdid his piano part and you could tell the other players were rolling their eyes. I suppose it can't work for 100 musicians too well either, "Okay, everybody just play!"
However, sometimes, that offbeat, overly energetic player creates some kind of band energy and the others feed off of it creating a "synergy" (a nice term, but unfortunately has acquired pointy-headed connotations).
In the moments, when it works, it's where the magic is, IMHO. That's the magic I'm always looking for. The moments created that way are the ones I remember and smile at in retrospect. It's why I like to experiment... because if, for instance, my flyrod would have worked (however unlikely) on Friday it would have been like music (at least to me) - bass and the treble of that eggbeater...instead of the mess it was (but more than likely, the moment where the tip of my rod flipped out of my hand into the water is the one I'm really going to remember, laugh at - and hopefully never repeat!)
It's where I found the magic yesterday. I was spinning a top. A little red-headed girl playfully plopped down to watch. With bright eyes, she tried to put a ball on the top. The top was one of those that sound like an organ when it's flying fast. Taking her idea, I found another toy - a wireframed ball, and placed it on the spinning top. It began to spin with the top. She chirped and smiled a one-missing-toothed grin. It was like "Yes! - We got it!"
And found it again yesterday, in a burst of laughter at Myle's house, when the winning Dale Earnhardt Jr. ran out of gas 400 yds. from the finish line - after 600 miles. You'd have to have been there.
I think it's why I don't like planning. When planning and executing a plan you end up assessing - and assessment, the managerial measuring of the whole thing just deadens the process because it takes away from the intangible goals. You also tend to stick to the plan even when something else opens up or when you find yourself telescoped into a corner. However, without a plan, you may wonder around aimlessly. So there is a balance - give and take.
Maybe it's why I don't like competition (or the normal form of it). This will sound off if I try and explain it because I am ultra-competitive... haha maybe I just like defining the game :-)
Without a team, you don't get to share those magical moments. I've had so many great times alone. I am an artist at creating those magical moments for myself. I will sometimes bark and say that I only want to be alone. And I will bark other times saying, "I thought you got 'it'". However, I think what I'd prefer is sharing those times with others - even at the expense of having to deal with people.
Kids, like that snaggle-toothed redhead, seem to gravitate to me. On the one hand I find that odd about myself; on the other I take great compliment. It's like every second is, "I wonder what's going to happen?" I hope it's not Peter Pan Syndrome (see: The Peter Pan Syndrome: Men Who Have Never Grown Up, by Dr. Dan Kiley) I've actually had kids come and knock on the door and ask if I could "come out and play" --- if that isn't weird!
Anybody up for fishing in Never-Never Land?
2 comments:
Interesting post! I like it. That's true...kids always have wanted to be near you. :)
I really liked this blog post and the previous one on motivation.
Motivation 3.0 sounds like it's only looking at one side of the equation. True, our nature is to be "curious and self-directed." But our nature is also to be practical and self-preserving. This is an exploration/exploitation tradeoff where exploitation includes not only using stuff I have learned in the past, but also using stuff other people I trust or the societal consensus holds to be true. The social contract is that we will do things the group approves of and, in return, the group will reward us when we do what it thinks is right. There is still room for autonomy within this structure; it's a matter of how much autonomy you need. There's more than one group, too. You might have more autonomy at work than at home or vice versa. There's no such thing as "complete autonomy." We are always bounded by something, whether that is the need to eat or our own limitations.
In the past, I have found that a good level of autonomy is very dependent on the individual. I have worked with some people who are very uncomfortable if you give them much autonomy at all. They want to know what they should be doing, how they should be doing it, and how they will be evaluated. They are fundamentally "risk averse" and don't want to make a wrong decision. Still, even they want autonomy in some things, even if it's just the way they organize their desks. Then there are people who are initially worried about having autonomy because they doubt themselves and think they will screw up, but once they find themselves succeeding and being supported, they thrive on it. If you give them too much autonomy all at once, they will be overwhelmed. They need autonomy a bit at a time, in order to find a level they are comfortable with. The motivation book sounds like it's written for people like this.
Presumably there are lots of other types and gradations too, but I think my observation is that people have a level of autonomy they are able to cope with. Push them too far past this, and they will feel incompetent and at risk. And I think this is a good thing because groups made of only highly autonomous individuals are not always that effective, and the set of individuals who are capable of being autonomous at a high level is small. At some point the trails that have been blazed need to be consolidated and cultivated or they just get overgrown again. This takes people who are less concerned about being autonomous and more concerned about building consensus.
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