Story you can use: The value of knowledge

Last week I wrote about institutional knowledge or memory. This is the informal but vital information that floats around an organization and is easily lost through attrition. This knowledge can be vital. It explains why we do what we do and helps incoming stakeholders understand the organization more quickly and more deeply. It's fragile, since it often isn't seen as vital, and can be easily lost; it takes a deliberate effort to capture institutional memory.

This month's story you can use highlights how this knowledge is vital yet easily lost and casts long shadows. We don't always recognize its worth when it is within reach, only once it's gone do we yearn for it.

There was once a wealthy town. The people were happy, well-fed and content. All had work they loved, their children were healthy, and their homes were solid and comfortable. One day a bent old woman shuffled into the town square, towing a cart behind her. It moved slowly and on creaky wheels, its contents covered with a soiled tarp. She settled down to rest on her cart, right in the middle of the square, and lifted her face to the sunlight. The townspeople frowned at her, she didn't fit in, she wasn't clean, tidy and comfortable. They summoned the town magistrate, so he could move her along. This is what magistrates are for, after all.

The magistrate approached her with a half-smile on his face. He saw no reason to be cruel, he just wanted her to leave. His fine suit gleamed in the sun, light glinting on the gold braid.

"Old woman, what are you doing here? Don't you know that town squares aren't for lounging?"

She looked at him mildly. "I'm just enjoying the warmth of the sunlight before I set up my shop. Surely there's no crime in that."

"No crime, but your kind isn't welcome here. Move along!"

She rose slowly, creaking as much as her cart had. "Very well. But aren't you at least curious about what I was going to sell?"

By now a crowd had gathered. They murmured their curiosity. The magistrate sighed. "Fine, what are your wares?"

She flung the tarp off of the cart. There were four dusty old books, heavy and dark with age. The leather bindings were stained from the many hands that had touched them.

"Here is all the knowledge in the world," she said, "and it can be yours for a mere 10 pieces of gold!"

The crowd was silent for a moment then burst into laughter. "All the knowledge in the world for 10 pieces of gold? Look around you woman, don't you see we are doing just fine here? Why should we give you 10 pieces of gold for what we already have?" scoffed the magistrate.

"Very well," she replied. "I will be on my way, but I must do one thing first." Grunting and straining, she pulled one of the books our of the cart and tossed it onto the ground. The pages fluttered in the breeze and the crowd could see the dense writing and fine illustrations. One woman leaned forward for a closer look. 

The old woman pulled out a flint and set the book on fire. The pages quickly burned, sparks and ash flying into the sky. The magistrate tried to stamp the fire out, shouting about fire hazard and safety ordinances, but faster than it takes to tell you about it, the book was gone, leaving only scraps of leather and soot.

Covering up her cart, the old woman slowly made her way from the town square, the crowds parting around her.

Time passed. The town, while no longer thriving to the same degree, did well enough. The citizens found they were working harder for what seemed like less. A fever struck the children though thankfully only one died. Some of the homes weren't kept in such good repair, the money going instead to essentials. And a few years later, the old woman creaked back into the town square. The magistrate was again called. A crowd formed. 

The magistrate sighed and straightened his jacket. It was better without the braid and the buttons still shone.

"I remember you, old woman. Don't you remember you aren't welcome here?"

"Oh, I remember very well, thank you. I may be old but I am still sharp. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I see things have changed some." She looked around.

"We will be just fine. Every municipality has it's hard times. Now be on your way!"

"But look," she said, pulling aside the tarp and revealing three heavy bound volumes. "I can help you. Three-quarters of all the knowledge in the world for a mere 100 pieces of gold."

The magistrate looked at the books. The crowd leaned forward and grumbled that the price seemed too high, though perhaps there was something useful there. 

"We're not interested," declared the magistrate. "Be on your way!"

The old woman sighed. "Very well, but I must do one thing first." She again pulled one of the books from the cart and set it on fire. The magistrate watched as flames curled the pages and soon it was nothing but ash. She put the tarp back on the cart and pulled it through the crowds, leaving the town.

Time passed. The town continued to struggle. What had once seemed easy now was a challenge. There was no longer enough wood to keep the homes warm. Food was becoming scarce. And a few years later, the old woman came back into the town square. The magistrate was again called. A crowd formed. 

He looked at her, not knowing what to say as she looked around the square. Tiles were loose on the judiciary building. The people wore clothing that was far too thin for the brisk day. The gold buttons on the magistrate's suit had been replaced with horn.

"Well, here I am," she declared. She tossed the tarp back. "Half of all the knowledge in the world for 500 gold pieces." The crowd leaned forward. The magistrate wet his lips. 

"Could we perhaps have a quick look to know what we might be getting? That seems like a lot of money sight unseen."

"Take it or leave it," she replied, the sighed into the growing silence. "Very well, very well."

She pulled one of the two remaining books out and set it on fire. The crowd could see the flames consuming detailing drawings and gold leaf. When the flames died down she covered her cart again and, barely struggling, pulled it from the square. 

And time passed. When the old woman returned, some of the buildings on the square had been abandoned. Half the buttons on the magistrate's suit were gone and the suit hung on his frame. The crowd was silent.

"One book left. One-quarter of all the knowledge in the world for 1000 gold pieces."

The magistrate was silent. The crowd dug for pennies. The wind fluttered the pages. The old woman waited.

(c) 2017 Laura Packer