The inadvertent consequences of disruptions

When disruptions hit us, or our family, organization or country, our reactions tend to be negative: we get frustrated, panicky-anxious, discouraged and resentful as we quickly realize that old solutions are useless, known shortcuts are impracticable and normal advancement is partially or totally blocked. So we see ourselves thrown in what we perceive as strange new mess with little (if at all) experience to rely on, facing an uncharted mountainous terrain. Our unpreparedness might be just part of the picture as we soon notice the clumsy movements of the other actors, be them big or small. Uncertainty kicks in as complex causal chains start to shift dramatically out of their normal tracks and make educated predictions seemed closer than ever before to five year olds guessing about nuclear power.

       Despite the undoubtedly negative consequences at all levels (health, economy, policy making, psychological functioning etc.) that we have to wrestle with, disruptions have at least two additional side-effects that we shouldn’t pass over. The first one is related to their capacity to make more transparent (at least temporarily) the internal, usually hidden, underlying mechanisms that sustain the disrupted system. By closely following how it was forced to perform under pressure and in uncertain situations, by watching its crude and spontaneous reactions, by seeing the route it followed when it had to unwillingly deforest the unexplored mountain - the subtle observer can only praise the golden opportunity to complete the image with the missing or dimly colored pieces of the puzzle. This is, in and of itself, a mighty topic I am certainly tempted to explore further (most probably in another post).

      The second side-effect of disruptions, that I am willing to chase now, is related to their capacity interrupt and disturb our internal world. The mere fact that old tracks turn unusable overnight urges us to suddenly stop, take a deep look at the new chaos, and devise something. But interestingly enough, the stopping and reevaluating moment could have consequences that might reverberate beyond the mere “what shell I do now?” unknown. Such suspended discontinuities, at least for those inclined to question the philosophical underpinnings of their behavior, might occasion a deeper analysis of what animates them (or their organization, the health system, the government) to engage in these behaviors, of why and how these actions were carried out in the first place. These unwelcomed and resented interruptions could actually make us pay renew attention, could bring a fresh perspective, could make some things appear sharper, and make us notice what previously stayed unnoticed. We might have the chance to listen the muted hums of deeply hidden personal wishes, to get in contact with our values, to reconsider some choices that were half-consciously reiterated hundreds of times during the loud noise of everyday live music.  

      Looking back two months ago, when the CORONA crisis had just started, for a moment I had the impression that my usually buzzing academic world - that continually demanded something of me - had suddenly stopped, and I was literally unable to interact with it (i.e., as the regular face-to-face classes were suspended). It was a moment of pure silence, when the whole world seemed suspended, smoothly floating in a foreign space, with just the void surrounding me from all over. And for a split second I subjectively had a powerful impression that I was totally free in that floating space, unbound by any straps, disengaged from everything except my passions, absolutely free to direct my whole mind towards activities that makes me reverberate with truly vital tonalities. It was during that moment that I’ve been in contact with my deep values whose hum was continuously blocked by the buzzing noises and the incessant external demands once essential for my professional development. It was during that moment that I realized how limiting the attached straps were for my intellectual freedom and for my creativity that could not take hold of my entire mind due, mainly, to the lack of psychological space. It was during that moment that I decided to carve in my program more writing time, to devote myself towards contemplating the fresh new images unintentionally revealed by CORONA’s multiple disruptions, to welcome and even entice creativity, to express myself courageously.  

      Besides being disheartening and forcing the stop and reflect stage, disruptions pressure us to take actions and push things forward, sometimes in entirely new conditions. After the denial is surpassed and the initial shock absorbed, after the earth rotates around its axis for a few uneasy nights, the unmistakable feeling that something significant has shifted willy-nilly pushes us to change gears if we want to rise up to the challenge. Unsure whether we can make even one step forward we make our first moves in a state of agitation, apprehensive of what might happen. Around us things look messy and we are not entirely sure how to proceed but it’s overwhelmingly evident that decisions have to be made and actions have to be taken. And the very interaction between the pressure to solve a problem and the messiness around (present in the environment or in our own minds or both) has the potential to spur creativity, as Tim Harford persuasively argues in his book. Baffled and resentful, we find ourselves in the uncomfortable position to cope with the unexpected. And since most memories fall short when it comes to solving new problems in unfamiliar circumstances we knock at the door of creativity hoping for some get-around ideas, or at least some plausible and handy hypotheses. We became suddenly ready and willing to step out of our comfortable shoes, to try new things, to tolerate unfamiliarity, and to spend more time solving problems. And such openness, that we didn’t even bother to greet before the crisis or to spend one evening per month with, was actually a by-product of the disruptive event per se. But Tim Harford mentions in his talk on the Importance of Being Messy that the alertness occasioned by taking an unprecedented rout, and sometimes by engaging in a longer adventure to explore the unknown, can actually bring the extra bit of energy needed for the creative work.               

      Finally, I am not arguing that disruptions are good and they should definitely get an invitation to the ball. I am not even arguing that they always lead to philosophical awakenings, or improve our creativity, or help us better understand the underlying mechanisms of the disrupted system. I am just arguing that disruptions primarily disrupt, and oftentimes bring unredeemable damages and lose. And that’s their main job! However, by forcing us to act differently they also have some inadvertent potentialities that some of us might take advantage of. And I don’t know what your reactions to CORONA’s multilevel disruptions were, but mine incorporated multiple concerns, and worries, and frustrations. But I was also surprised by an unexpected gift box I received with a word twisting game inside. The instructions were to use some word twists as a way to contribute to the up scaling of my neighbors coping strategies. And you might remember, from a previous post, that among my neighbors I counted the teenage Vietnamese girl who just learned English and the Peruvian middle age man who recently got divorced. And interestingly enough, playing around with the word game somehow captured my attention to the point of underestimating how fast a Sunday can pass while writing.