Not owning is not a failure
We reached ‘peak music buying’ in 2000. That was the year we bought the most music, in vinyl and CD formats. We reached ‘peak car’ in 2014. That year we drove the most kilometres per person. And, way back in 1970, we reached ‘peak home ownership’ (yes, it’s been in decline for 50 years).
Our music (and most other media) we now enjoy in dematerialised form. I know very few people who want to ‘own’ a newspaper, or a movie, or a song. They just want to read it, watch it, or listen to it. Fewer people want the hassle and cost of car ownership (or second car ownership). Easier (and cheaper) to catch Ubers, rent a Flexicar or a Car Next Door. And, with housing, far more people are willingly (or resignedly) renting for life. For some that’s an affordability issue, but for many it’s an active choice, preferring to rent close to amenities, than buy further away. In other words, there’s no humiliation from not owning.
What is the pattern in all these cases? It’s a positive embracing of non-ownership, a desire to spend money on experience, not possession. We spend disproportionately on small pleasures (daily coffees, multiple streaming services) and also on expensive larger ones (indoor skydiving, watersports, haircuts and, eventually again, travel). The pattern here is a desire for high-value transient experiences. We’re moving from wanting more things, to wanting pleasure in things. From assets to experiences.
Question: How are you set up to maximise the transient experience quality of your customers?
The power of a near miss
I was driving home from a country trip in that liminal time when eyes need to adjust to the fading light. The winding, isolated road tempted me to take corners fast, which I did. In an eyeblink, there appeared something large in front of me and my reaction as I braked and swerved was “Oh, God, a man just ran in front of me!”.
But it wasn’t a man. It was a large roo, which slightly clipped the corner of my car and then bounded off into the bush. I straightened my car and drove on. But it rattled me sufficiently to pay a LOT more attention to my driving, especially when on unfamiliar roads, and in less than ideal conditions. Even today, 20 years later, I think about that roo each time I’m on a road like that and tempted to speed.
A client told me recently that she’d had a near miss — but not in her car. She had found a lump. It was large — and painful to the touch. After seeing her GP she lined up mammograms and biopsies and, while waiting for these procedures, she dramatically changed her daily patterns. She meditated twice a day. Slept 8 hours a night. Ate healthier food diligently. In the end, the results showed a benign growth. But, she reflected, “The near miss alone made me change my behaviour”.
Near misses are common in organisations, but are we attuned to noticing them? How would you know if an important customer almost left? Or a key staff member almost resigned? Or a part of your service delivery almost injured (or killed) someone? More importantly, are we equipped to learn from them?
Question: What reflective practices do you use to actively learn from near misses?
Paradigmatic metaphors
My friend Gina, years ago, described her relationship with her boyfriend like a sore on her hand. She said, “I keep picking at it, and eventually it opens up and oozes. Then it heals, and I start picking again”.
Yes, you can guess they weren’t destined to last. But Gina’s use of a paradigmatic metaphor was powerful. It framed, for her, what was going on — and, more importantly, it guided her actions, largely unconsciously.
An organisation I’ve worked with until recently had a CEO who habitually referred to the work of the organisation as ‘hard’ and ‘thankless’, the people on ‘front lines’ needing to be ‘fierce’, ‘strong’ and ‘unyielding’. (No, it’s not a union, or the military). But such martial, ‘streetfighter’ metaphors shaped that organisation’s culture into one where people felt fear when the CEO walked the floors.
Paradigmatic metaphors are everywhere: “Time is money”, “The war on drugs”, “The gambling epidemic”. These comparisons act as very sticky memes, they slip out of our mouths without thinking — and they ultimately define (and limit) our actions.
Question: What paradigmatic metaphors are active in your industry or organisation?
Please click the heart to let me you’ve enjoyed reading this week. And, drop me a line in the comments if you’d like to let me know your answer to one of my questions.
Have a great weekend, and I’ll be with you again next Friday.
Andrew
Of all the emails that I receive, yours is the one I make sure I read every week, most enjoyable and thought provoking :)
stories, metaphors, paradigms shifts...lovely expression of how to change your thinking...change your language, rewire, transform....have a lovely weekend! :)) Brynnie