Cynefin and Critical Systems Thinking (CST): A further contribution to the debate

I recently wrote a CST review (https://www.dhirubhai.net/pulse/critical-systems-thinking-overview-gapps-eu-science-jackson-obe/) of the EU Science Hub/Cynefin Centre Field Guide to leadership in times of complexity. Dave Snowden has written a detailed and considered response (https://stream.syscoi.com/2021/03/29/naturalising-narrated-cognitive-edge-dave-snowden-response-to-two-recent-mike-jackson-pieces/ ), for which I thank him. It has helped me gain a clearer understanding of his ‘naturalising’ approach to complexity and of our differences. This contribution to the debate is meant to further mutual understanding.

Dave is right to see the nub of the debate as being about the adequacy of his ‘naturalising’ approach to sense-making in the domain of ‘anthro-complexity’. I will seek to clarify my concerns with reference to a seminal paper from the systems thinking tradition – Kenneth Boulding’s ‘General Systems Theory: The Skeleton of Science’ (1956). Boulding provides a nine-level hierarchy of real-world complexity stretching from structures and frameworks, through mechanical and biological systems, up to people and socio-cultural systems. He notes that the characteristics of lower-level systems can be found in those at higher levels (e.g., feedback control) and so models developed to understand the behaviour of lower-level systems are still relevant at higher levels. Each higher level, however, presents emergent properties that cannot be understood simply in terms of the theoretical concepts employed successfully at lower levels – hence the need for new disciplines like biology, psychology, and sociology as complexity increases. A key issue that confounds understanding and predicting system behaviour at higher levels is the intervention of ‘the image’ into the chain of causality. As we ascend system levels, brains develop and organise information into images. Behaviour results from the structure and setting of the image rather than directly from some stimulus. Human images are extraordinarily complex and, furthermore, have a self-reflexive quality. People not only know but know that they know. As Kant argued, in his ‘Critique of Practical Reason’ (1788), as ‘phenomena’ humans are subject to causal determinism. However, as ‘things in themselves’ (noumena), they are beyond the reach of scientific knowledge and it is legitimate to regard them as possessing freedom. Of course, we know much more nowadays about constraints on that freedom. Nevertheless, the basic insight remains sound and, at the people and socio-cultural levels of complexity, a quite different kind of understanding of behaviour is necessary. Boulding advocates taking advantage of what he calls the ‘inside track’ – the fact that “we ourselves are the systems we are studying”. This nod in the direction of phenomenology and interpretive social theory had a decisive influence on Geoffrey Vickers, who knew Boulding well, and through him, on the development of Peter Checkland’s ‘soft systems methodology’.

How is this relevant to the debate? First, it reminds us that any ‘naturalising’ approach is in danger of reductionism; of employing a level of theoretical analysis below the level of complexity of the system of interest. Dave is well aware that humans are not ‘ants, birds or crystals’, and sharply criticises those who build models on the basis that they are, but he cannot easily escape the charge of reductionism himself. This is my issue, for example, with ‘strange attractors’. The concept has a precise definition in the natural sciences which does not do justice to the complexity of human systems where, as I previously argued, it is shared appreciations, values, and intentions that actually lead people to act in concert. We need soft systems approaches, operating at the level of meaning, to help us construct and challenge shared appreciations. Second, while Dave does indeed make extensive use of social science [My statement that “Dave Snowden needs social theory to really get to grips with social complexity” was too loose.], there is still a question about the type of social science he privileges. In his view, social science, to be valuable, must follow the model of the natural sciences. Crucially, explanations should be testable and “critically your experiments” must be capable of validation by other scientists. This criterion of repeatability is hard to apply in the social domain. Social situations tend to be unique and, of course, change as soon as you experiment on them. The examples Dave provides, studies of ‘inattentional blindness’, ‘exaptive practice’, and modern cognitive science, fit his naturalising perspective. Dave is seeking to use methods from the natural sciences, proven to yield knowledge about systems lower in Boulding’s hierarchy, to gain insight into systems of greater complexity. This is justifiable, in Boulding’s terms, because higher level systems do exhibit some of the same characteristics. It is important because it identifies constraints on the way humans behave. But it risks missing the ‘emergent properties’ that arise at higher levels of complexity. To put it crudely, we all possess physiological, biological, and cognitive limitations, but we adhere to quite different values, create widely divergent cultures, and create organisational forms of many varied kinds. It is with these matters that soft and emancipatory systems thinkers engage. They have abandoned the methods of the natural sciences and developed methodologies based upon interpretive and radical social theories which pay direct attention, respectively, to appreciations, values, and intentions, and to the exercise of power, systemic discrimination, and disadvantage. To be clearer, my critique is not that Dave does not draw upon social science but that his commitment to a naturalistic approach prevents him from paying attention to the range of epistemologies available in social theory which are essential for getting to grips with ‘anthro-complexity’. By contrast, CST seeks to employ a set of epistemologies that, as ‘world hypotheses’ (Pepper, ‘World Hypotheses’, 1942) or ‘experiential gestalts’ (Lakoff & Johnson, ‘Metaphors we live by’, 1980) have proven useful to the human species over generations. And it is able to take advantage of different systems methodologies based on the variety of epistemologies available. It is true that this makes validation and evaluating interventions difficult but there are ways and, in a world of divergent beliefs and values, pervaded by inequalities, this difficulty can hardly be avoided. It certainly cannot be overcome using criteria apposite to the natural sciences.

I can now turn to Dave’s bullet point analysis of my review and pick up on what I see are important issues (Dave’s original numbering):

2. I argued that complexity theory has a promiscuous relationship with social science, attaching itself to any social theory going. Dave believes that it is allowing us to re-examine “a lot of the sterile debates of social science”. But the fact that there are as many versions of complexity theory as there are social theories suggests it is failing to resolve them. The ‘sterile debates’ are winning, not complexity theory.

4,5. I mentioned the apparent resemblance between the 4-stage methodology of the field guide and John Mingers’ ‘Appreciate-Analysis-Assessment-Action’ account of the generic structure of systems methodologies. I was seeking to highlight the novel (for complexity theory) methodological element in the guide. Dave is right that the resemblances are superficial in other respects.

8,9,10. Dave argues that systems thinking has had an impact in only ‘isolated pockets’ and that we have to take advantage of “new insights and understanding from science” to move forward. It might be argued that systems thinking was ahead of its time and people are only now recognising its usefulness. Perhaps its day has come. That is how it seems to me. Of course, we must acknowledge developments in science, but it would be wrong to think that these all favour complexity theory. For example, Carlo Rovelli, the well-known physicist, relates his version of quantum theory to the worldview of Alexander Bogdanov, an early Russian systems thinker (see ‘Helgoland’, 2021). Further, the new insights from science have failed to resolve the disputes in social science – perhaps because of the complexity of the social domain and perhaps because there is more than mere explanation at stake. CST engages with these disputes as long as they are relevant to practical concerns.

I do need to concede that the development of many strands of systems thinking has stalled. Systems engineering is in a quandary about how to extend its scope beyond purely technical problems; the 'viable systems model' attracts more devotees than innovators; very few are seeking to up-date and improve the soft and emancipatory methodologies. This leads to an unhealthy tendency to raise the works of certain systems gurus to the level of scripture. As in Soviet Russia, an apt quotation from a supposed authoritative source is seen to end all debate. It is hardly surprising that outsiders get the impression that the most exciting contemporary work is based on complexity theory. It is time to re-establish some rigorous systems thinking research programmes.

11. From a naturalising perspective, it is understandable that Dave feels the need for a sophisticated technical language that can help decision-makers grasp the nature of the world and act better on it. From an interpretive viewpoint, which sees actors as constructing their own social reality, it is important to remain close to the way the actors themselves see the world and articulate their own values and concerns; assisting them with achieving clarity, with understanding taken-for-granted assumptions, and explicating possible implications. Dave raises Heidegger’s thinking on the role of language in ‘world-disclosure’ to support his position. For me, there is an interesting debate to be had about whether Dave’s technical language is more ‘enframing’ than ‘revealing’. Although he diverged from his mentor Husserl, Heidegger remained a phenomenologist and I suspect that he would have agreed with Husserl’s late career conclusion that:

“In our vital need…science has nothing to say to us. It excludes in principle precisely the question which man, given over in our unhappy times to the most portentous upheavals, finds the most burning: questions about the meaning or meaninglessness of this whole human existence” (‘The Crisis of European Sciences and Transcendental Phenomenology’, 1936).

14. I do think Dave would benefit from engaging with the full range of social theory brought to the table in CST. CST is pluralistic and is not restrictive in terms of the social theories it engages with. It has a place for the naturalising approach, that Dave regards as essential, and much else besides. The only criterion for inclusion it employs is that the theories should make a difference to practice when translated into action through systems thinking/complexity theory methodologies.

15. The difficulty of scaling soft systems approaches can be exaggerated. Peter Checkland’s involvement with the ‘manufacturing function’ department of the Shell Group (‘Soft Systems Methodology in Action’, 1990) involved several hundred people. It would nevertheless be disingenuous to claim that this is not an issue. The solution for soft systems thinkers, however, must be consistent with their own philosophy of encouraging the most direct participation possible of those involved in a change process. It cannot be found by resorting to the statistical analysis of worldviews. There is work ongoing on scaling Beer’s ‘team syntegrity’ approach and there must be synergies worth exploring between the way soft systems methodologies and citizens’ assemblies operate.

As to Dave’s final point, I did make suggestions about systems methodologies that could support the intention of the Field Guide – the ‘viable system model’ for issues around organisational constraints and soft systems methodologies to address narrative constraints. I would add a rider here that they need to be used in a manner consistent with the philosophies they embrace. But that means they would explode Dave’s naturalising approach. So, perhaps I am not being particularly helpful. For me, of course, it is only CST that provides the theoretical and methodological variety to match the variety confronting leaders/managers in times of complexity.

I am conscious that, in trying to deal with difficult matters in a short article, I leave myself open to misinterpretation (my fault). And the same will be true for Dave. It is also the case that Dave’s most recent thinking, and mine since my 2019 book, is not yet readily available in written form in the traditional outlets. I would, therefore, welcome an open debate among those interested that would further clarify contemporary Cynefin and CST thinking and practice, and help us build from both the genuine similarities and real differences.