TBM 286: Narrative Fallacies and the 2024 Narrative Soup

Many companies are wildly inefficient and incoherent—disgustingly and dishearteningly so.

On some level, people have internalized this. They feel it even if they can't put it into words; when they do, they sometimes use different words."

"Great! If we can see this, we can fix it, right?"

Not so fast!

Based on our relationship to these inefficiencies, we develop our own explanations for what we see. Try as we might, we author our narrative fallacies. I do. You do. Everyone does. "Incompetent people were promoted!" "The organization is too middle-heavy." "We dropped our hiring bar!" "That's capitalism for you!" "It's all about strategy!" "Post ZIRP PMs!" "AI!" "They haven't embraced the product operating model!" "Product theater!" “Why can’t people see we’re working in complex sociotechnical adaptive systems?” "Those rest-and-vesters!" "Millennials!" "Investors want profits!" "There's too much fake work!" "All those MBA product managers are poisoning the well!". "Bullshit management!" "Execution is underrated!" "The process people are running the show!"

These types of stories strike a deep chord: They give us deep, affecting reasons on which to hang our understanding of reality. They help us make sense of our own lives. Most importantly, they frequently cause us to believe we can predict the future. The problem is, most of them are a sham. (Farnam Street)

These explanations cluster based on common experiences and context. They make their way into the popular discourse. Narrative fallacies beget narrative fallacies. They tap into our collective need for easy answers. They take on a life of their own—firing people up, driving likes, creating camps, and spreading contagion as people look for answers. You have people hanging their whole identities on narrative fallacies.

The stakes are high. Livelihoods, "generational wealth," worldviews, professional identity, reputations, and relationships are all in the mix. This, in turn, adds fuel to the fire, and the cycle spins up.

"Was I just lucky over the last ten years?"

"Why is my darling unicorn company so **** inefficient? How did it get this way?"

"Why did I hang my heart on the belief that design could change the world?"

"Who is that privileged jerk to say that Agile Coachings shouldn't exist?"

"That Brian Chesky is RIGHT! Who are these feeble middle managers who don't get into the details?"

"OMG, this is right! My leaders lack courage!"

"You're Not competing with AI. You are competing with someone using AI!"

In any sizable company, you have a "narrative soup" at the moment. The pre-pandemic and post-pandemic joiners have clashing narratives. Middle managers and VPs have clashing narratives. The individualists and communitarians have different narratives. The CFO and the CPO have different narratives. Investors and frontline workers have different narratives. It would be one thing if these narratives were inconsequential, but they aren't. Livelihoods are at stake. The internal narrative strife extends to our professional communities, camps, and tribes.

We aren't in a situation where a common threat—e.g., pandemic, ubiquitous economic crisis, explicit war—is forcing unity. The forces at play are driving people apart. They are highly asymmetric and divisive. There are winners and losers—not just losers and losers. You can't have "empowerment," for example, in a company with rolling layoffs where everyone is worried about their job.

Consider the story of the humble CEO working to "transform" her company. Maybe they're facing an existential threat or a threat looming on the horizon. She reassures everyone that their jobs are safe but engages them in finding creative ways to lower costs, increase revenue, or innovate. The times will require flexibility, but "we're all in it together!" She engages teams in reshaping the company to meet the challenge and fosters a culture of continuous improvement. She listens without judgment. And they lived happily ever after.

OK. Now, ask why this sounds like a myth in the current environment.

In the story of the CEO above, there's unity of purpose and a coalescence/convergence of needs. This isn't the case in many corporate environments in 2024. For example, Matt Skelton made this observation recently on LinkedIn:

Amid all the frantic layoffs, the elephant in the room is that salary costs are not really the expensive part. It's "time wasted by salaried people waiting on other salaried people" that is the huge unacknowledged cost.

While this post hits home for me personally (hey, I have my narrative fallacies as well), it is important to note that if you took a cross-section of interpretations in your average company, there would be a lot of disagreement on whether this is the cause. As one might expect, these disagreements have their own backstories, needs, and narratives. And there are different sources of power and influence that might decide whose interpretation “wins”.

So why is any of this important? How is it any good to someone contending with the 2024 narrative soup?

Reflecting, I think, is truly a time for self-reflection and allowing a personal perspective to emerge. A personal philosophy, almost. It is easy to let the public swirl become your internal swirl. Second, I believe that perhaps now is a very good time for people to connect with 1) like-minded people for support and 2) diverse perspectives—but do so in safe settings. We need connection more than ever, even if we may feel like we're competing with our communities for limited opportunities.

Yes, narrative fallacies are tempting and comfortable, and they do simplify the situation. However, the problem with narrative fallacies is that they are fragile. They break when they meet reality (unless you have enough power to enforce your reality on people). If you build your identity on a narrative fallacy, then you risk the short-term boost, leaving you stranded on shaky ground.

OK. Hit my stopping point for writing. I hope this was interesting.