Let's make Life thrive again.

Michelle Holliday is a writer, presenter, facilitator and consultant, whose work centres around thrivability - a set of perspectives, intentions and practices based on a view of organisations and communities as dynamic living systems. With a rich professional background spanning from brand strategy to employee engagement, Michelle has brought her research and practical experience together in the highly acclaimed book ‘The Age of Thrivability: Vital Perspectives and Practices for a Better World’. For the past two decades, Michelle has been spreading her vision and thought-leadership with transformative conversations to cultivate thrivable environments in organisations and communities around the world.

Hi Michelle, it’s a pleasure to have you here for a conversation. As your book’s title suggests, it’s time to enter the age of thrivability. How did you come to engage with the concept of thrivability?

My journey started in business, first in brand strategy and marketing for big multinational companies, and then in employee engagement, doing consulting work around organisational culture and leadership. And in both of those, I felt like a foreigner - I felt like I couldn't quite understand the culture and the logic, and none of it made sense to me. There was something at the root of the goals, the habits, the customs and the practices that seemed off. But it seemed like I was the only one who felt that way. 

Then the sustainability movement started to emerge, where we also recognised that there's something off and wrong in how we're living, and that it's not sustainable - it can’t continue in this way. All of that, together, made me question: where did we get the guiding story that tells us these ways of doing business and of living are the only ways? Where did that story come from, and is there more to the story? Is there another story that's possible? 

That’s how you started developing a new possible story?

My sense was that the dominant guiding story is characterised by a mechanistic view - we see everything as a machine that can be controlled and can be reduced to its parts. And I'm not the only one who noticed this, more and more people are writing and talking about that. But twenty years ago, there weren't that many who were saying these things. So, while there was this story telling us that everything is a machine, I wondered if there was part of the story that could recognise our aliveness - recognise the life that we bring to our work in our organisations and in our communities.

And with that question, I started reflecting on what do I mean by life, even? What does it mean for something to be alive? And what does it take for something that's alive to thrive? What are the conditions that have to be present? Could I study the conditions of a rainforest, an ant colony, or our bodies and find out? What are the universal design principles that enable any of those living systems to thrive? And then could we look for those same principles in our organisations, our communities, our economies? 

These sound like essential questions. What answers have you been finding along the way?

I found that there is a core set of design principles that we can work with. But it's not as simple as just designing differently - it requires a shift in worldview. Otherwise, we keep repeating the same problems and doing the same damage that the mechanistic worldview creates. Now, I talk about thrivability as the informed intention and practice of creating the conditions for life to thrive - or, in other words, the practice of stewarding life. It starts with getting ‘informed’ because we have to know what those design principles are and what our role is, really. Are we controlling the machine? Or are we gardening and creating the conditions?

“Are we controlling the machine? Or are we gardening and creating the conditions?” 

Generally, we have much smaller intentions like productivity and profitability, which aren't bad in themselves, but when that becomes the extent of our role, then we get into trouble. So until we make it our clear, explicit intention to enable life to thrive, then we'll continue to fall catastrophically short of that goal. And then we need practice - it's an ongoing practice of deepening in wisdom, compassion and the ability to sense what's needed and to respond with effective action.

To start exploring this shift in worldview, it might be useful to analyse the differences between a mechanistic way of thinking and systems thinking. You go one step forward, and talk about living systems thinking. Why is this additional conceptual step so important?

I see systems thinking as a useful bridge - it helps us move from the reductionist and purely mechanistic view, to seeing that those parts are also in relationship. And—in the space of that relationship—there's emergence of new patterns and capabilities.That's generally where systems thinking stops - it's a real focus on the interactions and the rules that guide those interactions. One of the favourite examples is a flock of birds, and that there are three simple rules that guide the behaviour of a flock of birds, so that they keep going in the same direction and don't run into each other. People take great comfort in that example - it's simple, just three rules to guide a living system. 

But that’s not the full complexity of a living system. It's just one sliver, one aspect of how these birds interact with each other. But we can't really look at them separately from their whole ecosystem, and from many more details. The last things I'll say about the limitations of the system thinking approach is that it seems to seek to model, control and predict. If we could just understand those simple rules of interaction, then we could predict, model and control. But once we acknowledge that there's life, that life is the animating and guiding property, then we recognise it's beyond our comprehension - we’ll never understand the full complexity of any living system, even the simplest of them. Even a single-celled amoeba is capable of more beauty and potential than we can control and predict. 

So, then we start to ask bigger and maybe more interesting questions about what wisdom is needed to support the inherent potential of this system. And part of that is listening to the voice of the whole, which somehow gets left out of systems thinking, and starts to enter into the conversation when we acknowledge life. 

What types of questions does this shift in thinking push us to ask?

Who are we, together? What is the story that's unfolding? And how can we serve that story? How can we sense what that story might need of us? It just invites bigger questions and invites more humility and stewardship. I think of stewardship as the combination of reverence and responsibility. Reverence for the fact that the full complexity of any living system is beyond our ability to comprehend or to control - this is worthy of our reverence, just as a child or a plant is. And so an organisation, a team, another person is worthy of this wonder, and awe and reverence. And paradoxically, even though it's beyond our ability to comprehend or control, we feel called to respond to its needs, to be responsible.

“I think of stewardship as the combination of reverence and responsibility”

That combination is how I think of stewardship. We don't get that from systems thinking, that combination of reverence and responsibility that I think really opens us up to a more accurate understanding and more respectful relationship with a system, and a more effective way of being together within a living system

You mentioned before your journey to discover principles of thrivability into the natural world. What patterns have you identified?

It's useful to review them as part of the differentiation between systems thinking and living systems thinking. First of all, in all thriving living systems there are diverse parts - like cells in our bodies, trees in a rainforest, or people in an organisation. The parts are connected and supported in patterns and structures of relationship, of interaction. In our bodies, for instance, we've got a circulatory system and digestive system and skeletal system, all of these patterns and structures of interaction. And in our organisations, there are patterns of language, meetings and structures of desks and retail space that support and connect us. And the more open and free flowing those interactions can be, the better. 

Those parts, then, are connected in patterns of relationship in a way that creates a new whole - a new emergent level of life with new capabilities and characteristics that we don't find at the level of the parts. And that's the magic we're after: the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. And new things become possible. So, in our bodies, the cells come together in all of those systems and structures in a way that creates You. You're more than just a collection of cells - you can think, feel and move. And those are things that are not happening at the level of your cells, they're happening at the whole of you.

In our organisations, what creates wholeness is shared purpose, so that we're not just a shapeless crowd - we come together around some shared intention and identity. And that starts to enable new things to become possible. We find that in conversations as well, when there's a fantastic topic that is important to both of us, then new ideas and inspiration come in that neither of us showed up with.

“In our organisations, what creates wholeness is shared purpose”

Aren’t these elements the ones characterising systems thinking as well?

Exactly, systems thinking would stop there, with the first three. But if we stop with just parts, relationships, and wholeness, then we could be talking about my car. My car has different parts that come together in interaction with each other, with the road, and with me. And together, they're not just a collection of parts, they form a new whole called a car that has the new emergent capability of moving me around town. But my car will never have a great idea. It can never heal itself. It can't generate a whole new car. It can't be my friend and comfort me in some way. And it can't adapt to completely unforeseen circumstances.

For all of those things, we need something else. Something that's the difference between me and my car. And what some biologists call this “something else” is a self-integrating property. So by itself, any living system integrates parts into wholeness. Any living system is elegantly, inherently self-organising, self-managing, self-generating, self-regenerating because it is alive. And my car doesn't have those capabilities. 

I think of that self-integrating property as the spark that animates us and makes us alive. We don’t have to know what it is or where it comes from. I don't think we have to know or agree, but we do have to acknowledge it, so that we shift from seeing ourselves solely as mechanics and engineers to seeing ourselves as stewards and gardeners creating the fertile conditions for life to do its self-integrating activity. That's what we're stewarding. That's what we're supporting. And we're part of it. It's in us and it's between us. 

With this introduction, thrivability poses itself as an overarching framework, a worldview to tap into in order to see and act differently. However, as you specified before, thrivability is also, fundamentally, a practice. So, let’s start seeing how this practice would play out in the business context. You argue that, for an organisation to thrive, it’s crucial to have a shared purpose. Isn’t all the employees having the purpose to make money out of their work a shared purpose?

No, I don't think that is enough. That shared purpose is where the living system—that is the organisation—meets its surrounding ecosystem and invites life in from that surrounding ecosystem. So just to be self-serving internally, serving your intention doesn't invite enough life and engagement from the rest of the system. Life seems to have the urge to connect with other forms of life in service and contribution in order to create new possibilities, transcendent capabilities. 

Just trying to make as much money as possible is too small of an intention to get to that transcendent possibility. It keeps us closed, inward-looking and self-serving, rather than listening for the wisdom of what's really needed. When we do listen for that wisdom and respond, I have seen that many more possibilities open up. That’s what Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi was talking about when he wrote about flow - when we get into a groove with what life really needs and wants. When we tune into that, then we get into flow and things become easier and more generative, including money. There's nothing wrong with money, but it's a signal that flow is present rather than an end goal in itself.

If you work in an organisation, how do you recognise whether your organisation is thriving? 

Every organisation is alive if there are living people in there, but it’s a question of whether it’s thriving. Nowadays organisations seem to be more machine than human. So, how do I know when I walk in whether it's more machine or more living and human? There's a feeling when you walk into a room of whether people feel good and happy. There's a comfort, an ease and a flow. That's the first signal. Then there are the types of conversations that come easily, what people are able and free to talk about. There's an adaptability that I can notice as we talk about new ideas.

In my framework that I use with organisations, I would ask questions like: are people able to bring the best of their gifts and talents and be nourished in the process? Do they feel a sense of belonging and membership? Do they feel a sense of meaning? Those questions are at the level of the individual people working in the organisation. Then, if we look at the relationship with customers, do they feel that your offering contributes in a meaningful way? That it’s not just a commodity, but it's somehow a meaningful contribution to their lives? Do they feel a sense of connection, of community and maybe even co-creation with your organisation? And do customers, in fact, feel that what you're doing represents a heroic cause? 

“Are people able to bring the best of their gifts and talents, and be nourished in the process?”

If you have all of those, then there are fertile conditions for thrivability. And then we can look at the relational structure that connects and supports employees to customers - what are the structures? What are the systems? What's the unfolding story? And what are your practices and disciplines to ensure coherence across all aspects of the organisation and to continue to learn and evolve? 

Let’s come to the community level. With COVID, we have seen the resurgence of the notion of community, and the importance of small acts, such as buying groceries for your neighbour. How do we sense whether our local community is thriving? 

I think it's the same answer as how you sense whether a community is thriving or an organisation is thriving. Are the parts able to share their gifts and be nourished in the process? I talk about mastery, membership and meaning - those were the things I was describing. Can I bring my gifts and be nourished? Do I feel membership, or belonging? Do I find meaning in my participation in this community? Within a community, there is a sense of who we are together. Do we have a shared identity to some degree? Is there a story of who we are that holds us together and makes us distinct from the community down the road? And the more that people have that feeling, through patterns of interaction, rituals and stories, the more thrivable the community will be.

One of the ways we can grow and support the thrivability of a community is to bring people together and ask them: who are we here and what is our story? This helps them be aware of it and contribute to it - feel they're part of it and that they're able to add their voice to that story. We need to make sure that in a community people are able to connect with each other in a safe way—they are not afraid to go out into the street—that they can be connected with each other, and that there are times and places where they can come together in conversation and in exploration of what more is possible. How do we learn and evolve as a community? 

Both for organisations and communities, for me it always comes back to conversation - conversation to sense who we are, and how our story is currently coherent or not. And how we would like to evolve it to become more coherent and to respond to the needs that we sense in the world around us.

Looking at the world nowadays, we might find many reasons not to be optimistic: the incredible amount of pollution and natural destruction, climate change, ever-increasing inequality, and in the context of the latest pandemic, an health crisis coupled with an economic crisis. What are we failing at? Are we having the wrong conversations in our communities?

I do think we're not having big enough conversations. We're not asking questions about the wisdom that's needed. We're asking small, technical questions, if we're asking questions at all. So, I would love to see us having more meaningful, transformational conversations around some profound and shared inquiry and at very local levels - come together with our neighbours and ask: who are we here, who do we want to be and who do we need to be? 

“I would love to see us having more meaningful, transformational conversations around some profound and shared inquiry”

What I'm dreaming of is a structure that I think of as stewardship circles. Anytime there is a problem or an opportunity that's identified in a community, a stewardship circle of citizens would be gathered, who would spend some time—whatever is appropriate for that situation—in a pattern of conversation, noticing and learning together. And, eventually, to offer some recommendations. But at least half of the purpose of the stewardship circle would be to develop the capacity of those citizens to be in the practice of stewardship, to be in growing relationships with each other, to be more connected with the complexity of the living system that is their community. So that at the end, we might have some good recommendations, but maybe even more importantly, we would have a more thrivable community, generally, because the citizens have had that experience together. So that's one way I can imagine to contribute to more thrivable communities, even in all of these really difficult circumstances.

You have been a ‘messenger of thrivability’ for quite some time now. How do you see the evolution in the understanding and embracement of this concept among the people you have been talking to?

Over the years, I've gotten clearer that I don't need to convince everyone and if someone isn't ready to hear it, then it may not be worthwhile to try to convince them. It may just be frustrating. And there are more and more people who are ready and eager to explore these new ways of thinking and seeing. So, I am intentional about spending time with those people - finding them and inviting them for a conversation. And it's all kinds of people. 

One of the things I've learned in parallel is to offer up the conversation that I really want to have. And that's not a self-centred kind of thing. It's a service to those who are ready and wishing someone would step up with the courage to propose that conversation. Very often, I hear people want to cater to the lowest common denominator - ‘people won't be ready for this, we have to position this initiative or conversation in a small way so that it won't freak people out’. And I think that's a disservice - people can choose. If they're not interested, then let them go somewhere else. But let's not limit the possibilities by assuming that they won't be ready. Let's give them the benefit of the doubt and let them choose. 

Among the different kinds of people you have been working with, I saw one category is composed by farmers. Farmers deal daily with the soil, and they see first-hand the key role of a healthy and nutritious soil to let the ecosystem thrive. How has your relationship been? 

It's interesting, because we have a stereotype of farmers as—at least this is what I hear and see—not very smart, not very worldly. There is this phrase, ‘country bumpkins’ - that's just not a very flattering kind of an image. So, I was delighted to find farmers who are wise, thoughtful and caring about the land, their neighbours and the state of the world. And not just a few farmers like that, but hundreds. I gave a keynote speech to 400 farmers in November last year, at the Ecological Farmers Association of Ontario - beautiful people. And I think because they have this relationship with the living soil, I actually found it far easier to be in conversation with them than I do in many business contexts. That was kind of fascinating.Soil is a fantastic teacher. I've started to use the description of how soil works in many different contexts, because it's actually pretty easy to understand. We all have an interest in soil health - we depend on it for our food, for our lives and for our future.

“Soil is a fantastic teacher”

Absolutely. It should probably be introduced in curricular activities to spend some time with the soil, and learn the difference between caring for the soil vs. doping it with chemicals...

Right. It's very interesting that for decades farmers were taught the mechanistic story - that they were the mechanics and engineers. They were growing the plants, using heavy machinery and chemicals, that it was a question of physics and chemistry. Biology was not part of the story. And it's really remarkable for me to encounter farmers who are just learning how soil really works. And they're not alone. All of us, we're not really taught the biology of life. So, as they discover that there's this living soil that actually does the work, then they shift in their role to becoming stewards, to creating the fertile conditions. 

There's one story of one of the farmers that I work with. She's in her 70s. She's been farming for many, many decades. And she shared with me that she had started to get just worn out and tired and uninspired with farming - she was thinking maybe that's it, she's just not interested in it anymore. But as a result of these conversations that we've been having, she said, “when I walk on my land now, I don't feel alone, I feel that I'm in community. And we're in it together. And I'm inspired again.” I thought that was a beautiful example of the transformation that is possible.

As a final question, we live in an economy with a built-in growth imperative: our economy needs to grow more, always. Can thrivability be the story we need to understand we need to grow, but not in material terms, rather in a completely different way?

Absolutely, yes. The goal needs to shift from just quantity to quality, and a particular understanding of quality - the quality of our ability to thrive, the system's ability to thrive. And in shifting to a living systems perspective, a stewardship perspective, we also embrace the idea of death - endings and compost.  In a mechanistic story, death is failure, you didn't fix the machine enough, and it stopped working. And that's failure and shameful, and we avoid talking about it. But in embracing a living systems perspective, we can make peace with that part of life and even steward it with grace, learning and care. There are beautiful examples of organisations that have been hospiced, that have been brought to a close in a beautiful, nourishing way that then serves as compost for those people to go on and do other things.

December 2020

To discover more about the world of Michelle Holliday, visit her website.