I love the concept of Sonder. From the urban dictionary, it means;
“That every person you meet is living a life
as complicated and as important as yours”.
It is a profound realisation when you accept that you’re just one of the twenty people in your family, one of 15,000 in your suburb, one of the five million on your city, one of 25.5million in your country, and one of 8.2billion in the world.
Not more than. Not less than. Just one.
I’ve heard the arguments against identity politics.
The backlash to wokeism. I don’t buy into it.
Whatever aspect of your identity is important to you, then I’m keen to hear more of your story, respect your perspectives, and do my best not to be offensive or hurtful to topics that matter to you. I won’t always get it right – human fallibility is alive and well with me, as is the self-awareness and acceptance that I’m a way back from perfect. I assume you’re doing your best with the hand you’ve been dealt, and I appreciate you returning the favour and know that based on the cards in my hand, I’m also doing my best too.
Sonder – is the anecdote to the backlash. You don’t need to rail against other people’s identities. You don’t need to have big opinions on everyone you meet, or the work they do, or the way they live their life. You just need to be open to the possibility that someone else’s experience, background, story, and perspective, could teach you something. Could make your life a little deeper and more interesting.
What’s that got to do with our work in Org Culture?
Everything!
It’s the very baseline.
There’s a mindset that is foundational for all good culture work.
And that’s that you never diss the work or the people doing it.
Personal perspectives on whether you’d personally like the work or not, personal opinions on whether the industry is for you or not, and whether you think the hours, goals, pay, or commute, would work with your life, are all interesting thoughts. But as you cross the threshold into someone’s else’s workplace, at their invitation, there’s a few things you must do, and the first one is to respect the work and the people doing it.
I’m not preaching that you do the same, but I would momentarily ask you to consider some of the examples that we’ve seen in the work we’ve done.
Single mums, working class students, and gaming.
Deep inside an entertainment company, we sat with a small focus group. All women.
Between them was decades of experience on gaming floors.
Their stories to tell, so no specifics – names, company names, or locations.
But the overview is this.
All of them had joined gaming young.
Some were single mums, trying to make it work with enough income for a home, shift times that suited school hours, and career paths if you didn’t hit uni until your late thirties, or even forties.
Some had started as students. No fancy university colleges or campus life. Just needing enough to pay fees, and as few hours as possible that worked around lectures and assignment submissions.
Every person told their story. Their careers. The flexibility to rearrange work to work with family and life. Enough income not to be skint with the kids on their birthdays. As each person spoke, the others nodded in affirming support.
They told stories of supporting each other over the years – from the floor all the way to some executives – as expectations changed of an industry and a way of working.
Put simply, it was inspiring.
Much more inspiring and real than many of the awardees we read about with a few extra weeks of Maternity Leave. This was decades of supporting women to live the lives they chose from starting to retirement.
Bankers and integrity
Most stories we read of investment bankers and private equity investors insist investment bankers are cold and harsh, but that’s not always the story.
We sat in front of a serious Private Equity executive and asked why they did what they did. The answer: “We look after people’s Super. Working class people’s super”. When we looked momentarily surprised at the answer, they continued, “They work hard all their lives. The least we can do is respect it’s their money and ensure they have security and financial safety in their retirement years”.
It was a sincere and clear answer.
What was most surprising is that we got exactly the same answer from everyone on their team. They were not cold or harsh. They were clear on purpose, understand the weight of the responsibility of caring for someone else’s money, and owned it completely.
Still makes me smile to remember that work. Still makes me happy they have some of my Super in their hands too.
Private Schools and serious teachers
I went to public school. Selective but public. It was nice. I liked maths, economics, netball and running, not always in that order.
I’ve heard the stories of private schools and how they work and who works within them.
Then I met them, and I’ve become one of their staunchest advocates.
Not an advocate for private over public, or whether the price is right or wrong.
But a staunch advocate that every single teacher I’ve met has spent hours,…nay, YEARS…thinking about the best possible way to teach. To develop kids. To prepare kids for their role in society, even as society changes what it expects and needs. To help the kids who need extra time and effort. To support the parents who need a hand. To rerail the kids who go off track.
And deep in the big private schools, we’ve found some of the best. Gruelling workshops around small details and deep care. For students. For education. For the future.
You have to sit with a 4unit maths teacher that’s been rocking that gig for 30 years to understand what constant learning, constantly expecting more of yourself, constantly stepping up for no more reward beyond what you got in the fifth year of doing the work. I could say ‘they’re driven by purpose’, but that would be glib. They live their purpose. Every day. For 20, 30, 40 years. Under the watchful eye and often fierce scrutiny of a public that has never taught a day in their lives.
Are they better than public school teachers? No.
Are they as good? Absolutely.
Cut from the same ‘love of teaching, care of students’ cloth.
Its inspiring.
The whole industry is misogynist or brutal
Not in my experience.
There are good people in every organisation and team we’ve ever looked at.
It’s equally likely that there’s a bad actor in any team.
Try these for inspiring:
The junior analyst in an elite sports club, describing that they can do analytics and data anywhere, but “its special in sport, because sport changes society. If we can get it inclusive here, everyone will see it. Sports starts the conversation and me being here is part of that”.
Or the Police Officer, who thought the answer to ‘why do you love policing’ was so obvious that he wondered why we’d asked “To keep the community safe. Simple as that”. Were they tough? Probably. A little more than most of us. But maybe that’s what keeping a community safe looks like.
Or the Judge. No arrogance. Nothing aloof. “I worry every day that the court room needs to be fair and ensure that every person there can be treated respectfully. If someone has taken a second mortgage to represent their teenager, I want to give them every chance to tell their story, explain their reasons. Most people do things for a reason”.
Or the footballer. “It’s important we lead beyond what’s expected. We’re setting the stage for how teenagers will lead in ten years’ time when it’s their turn”. Woah. That’s a lot more pressure than most leaders put on themselves. You’re expecting yourself to lead in ways that will inspire a generation of leaders after you retire.
They’re all such high bars.
Makes you appreciate these people doing this important work in such a serious way.
So, don’t diss the work or the industry.
What if its challenging work or hours?
What if the hours and conditions are tough? Well, they mightn’t be for everyone, but they are for some. Let people choose. Let them decide if the work they do, and the trade-offs they want to make work for them.
No judgement. You do you.
“You do you, and I’ll do me, but don’t tell me about how I should be”.
What if the work is awful, but everything else works?
Hours, pay, and flexibility are the obvious things people seek.
But equally people stay in tough jobs for colleagues, or a boss, for relationships that work well and inspire them to do their best, or just to have fun.
In these cases, the work mightn’t be grand at all, but gosh it’s fun to be amongst it. And the social side knits a whole community together. You know the names of every colleague’s kids, and years from now, you’ll still catch up and remember when you worked together.
The best part of what we do is not assuming or judging
Learning about people and the work they do. Why they love it. Why they chose it. Why it gets them out of bed in every morning.
And its against that background that you do culture work:
With an open mind, respect for the people and work.
Assuming that what you’ll find is a bunch of people doing their best.
You’ll find imperfection, even mistakes, or spots to improve, missed opportunities, but 99% of the time, respecting the work and the people who do it, will give you open and generous access to work alongside people to make it better.
Most of us are doing our best, but we’re just happy to do better.
The nobility of work
Maybe that saying “there’s nobility in work” is right.
Just turning up, doing your best, making a difference, and trying to get better.
As long as your workplace has the five principles of human rights – known as PANEL* – in place, you’re free to do the work you want to do.
Whatever the work, or your role, assuming you’re doing your best, its respected and appreciated.
So, thank you.
*N.B. Just for info, the HRBA (human rights based approach) is underpinned by five key human rights principles, also known as PANEL: Participation, Accountability, Non-discrimination and Equality, Empowerment and Legality.