Learning Alliances

During the Council meeting at the Portland Shambhala Center last week, Paul Refalo, the Center’s director observed that he can always give two alternative responses to the question of “How’s the Shambhala Center?” He can say that things are falling apart and that they are just coming together. And he said he could give substantial detail for either assessment. Joan Sears, the Treasurer, said the same paradox applied to the Center’s finances. The same week that she’d worry because of two requests to stop automatic dues payments would somehow be balanced by surprisingly generous new members who sign up. Over the years I’ve found that a Shambhala Center is a great example for thinking about the balance between an organization that provides education and services to its members and a community of practice with all the emergence that makes communities lively.

There’s nothing new, in a way, about our proposal for improving the tools for providing legs and pockets that communities of practice could use. What Josien Kapma and I are talking about is making it easier for communities to become just slightly more like organizations, along the lines of Clay Shirky’s airline passengers rights example in Here Comes Everybody. Our point is that somehow technology has helped the informal and conversational side without supporting the formal and financial side as much (or at least keeping them quite separate). Getting the learning and the informal side to coexist with the other side — so that neither one is subordinate or compromised — is quite the trick. It involves technology stewardship as well as leadership.

Joitske’s comments about transparency remind me that transparency is conventional, collectively understood and never completely absolute (whether in a community of practice or in other settings). That leads me to the question of, “What community-like characteristics are essential when adding organization-like characteristics?” I think here are some important ones:

• Negotiation of meaning. Communities grow around some fundamental openness to their practice and what it means. That makes them and their finances kind of messy. But it also implies a capacity for resolving or repairing disagreements. Groups that are all talk and no practice may not really need pockets because they don’t need legs.
• A history of learning together, so there is some authentic social capital. Sharing real capital (in modest amounts, according to the community’s maturity) ought to be completely natural. A learning path suggests that legs are needed.
• Communities have developed practices of being together in ways that create value that’s not fundamentally monetary but occasionally depends on having the cash to support being together. Having someone else, like Google, monetize being together, may or may not be OK. Better to have your own pockets than live in someone else’s.
• Distributed leadership and several overlapping systems of status means that different people can speak or act on behalf of a community in different regards. Somebody may spend money on behalf of the community without necessarily being the paragon of polished practice. But some kind of integrity is negotiated or the community falls apart.
• A wide periphery and enough of a sense of identity. The whole point is that “people like me would help,” perhaps by contributing money. Our own journey is connected to that of the communities we belong to.

One idea that occurs to me is that for the scheme we’re thinking of to work, there needs to be a repository that can catch the left-overs when communities fall apart. That might be an interesting new role for CPsquare, provided that at that moment it’s coming together, not falling apart.

A dollar is not a dollar: it depends on which stash it’s kept in.

Josien Kapma and I have been doggedly working in and around CPsquare on the question of how to put pockets and legs on small online communities for at least a year. By legs, we mean helping communities get places (usually requiring the expenditure of effort and or money). By pockets, we mean helping communities have stashes of money. A Facebook example follows. We’ve got a session accepted for the AoIR conference in Copenhagen. We’ve mostly tried to look at existing communities but recently thought we might learn more if we took a design fantasy approach.

Jean Lave’s ideas about how families manage their money have been very provoking for me because they help me get my head away from an accounting view and into a more informal and intuitive view. In Cognition in Practice, she talks about how families have many different “stashes” of money with negotiated, collectively understood rules for moving money between the stashes. Expenditures of a certain sort are made from one stash and not the other. This is like fund accounting in higher education. So a dollar is not a dollar: it’s value and meaning and usability depends on which stash it’s kept in. Universities, for example, can be in dire financial straits in one fund and be quite wealthy in another fund. Funds can borrow from one another, but they have to pay it back. This diagram suggests what some of the stashes and money flows in a complex family look like:

So to develop a Facebook example. What if there were a little “Facebook app” that were tied to a group (not an individual, where most of them are now). Imagine a group that would form around Bronwyn Stuckey’s “Community Capers” project. It has a Facebook Group (it’s so easy to join) and a blog (it’s so easy to follow) and a calendar (it’s so easy to add it to your own calendar so events show up). Why not a bank account and a little money management system? Here are some things it might do:

• Gather donations from guests, members or participants. (Might want to put limits on amounts of money, so it stays informal.)
• Provide a way to send gifts (gift certificates) to speakers or others who make a significant contribution (like send a specific book to everyone who contributes to an event). (Might want to limit payments so they go through Paypal.)
• Allow the group to pay for infrastructure like domain names, elluminate costs, phone conferencing costs (for people calling from France, for example), storage (lots of audio files, etc.)
• Allow the group to throw its weight around by giving a scholarship to someone, paying for travel, or do other good deeds (according to its values and goals).

The key is to make this kind of thing as easy as setting up a group. And to make it really transparent. That might mean:

• A group has a couple of different stashes which are clearly labeled
• When you give, you designate the stash it goes into
• Moving money between stashes is rule-bound and explicit
• Different people have different levels of control over different stashes
• All the transactions are clear to everyone, showing up on a group “Wall” or something.
• Imagine the possibilities: “groups like yours spent their $5 on items like …”

– References

Jean Lave, Cognition in Practice: mind, mathematics and culture in everyday life (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988).

One of the issues around participation in communities of practice is “having enough time.” We challenge people to declare that they have enough time before participating in a CPsquare workshop. But people have always experienced a lot of desire and some disappointment during the Foundations workshop. It seems like there is always more to be said, another angle to consider. It turns out that the Connected Futures workshop is the same in that regard. Nobody has as much time as they’d like.

It’s amusing to hear Clay Shirky’s response to a TV producer who asks, “Where do people find the time?” Bottom line: people have less and less time for screens that don’t have a mouse attached, where you can’t do something that’s meaningful. We are actually confronted by a surplus of time if we look at it from the right point of view.

Although in fact doing one of these CPsquare workshops (whether as a leader or a participant) involves sitting in front of a computer for many hours, in some ways its a lot of exercise. They’re designed so that you have to do a lot of stuff: you can’t just sit there. Although people going through the experience do so as individuals, it’s usually on behalf of an organization or a cause or some kind of intention that’s beyond themselves as individuals. Diabetes could be a useful metaphor to think about the consequences of spending time in a different way. This article in the April 24th 2008 issue of The Economist (”How to spend it; A region awash with oil money has one or two clouds on the horizon“), talks about how sedentary the population as a whole has become in some
middle-east countries, leading to very high rates of diabetes. But it caught
my imagination as a way to step back and think about how we spend time on a larger scale:

Diabetes is a useful metaphor for the Gulf’s present problems. The region’s economies are struggling to absorb petrodollars, accumulating like glucose in the bloodstream. The risk they face is the economic equivalent of renal failure: inflation, a hollowing-out of the non-oil sector, and a young, growing workforce in chronic need of outside labour to supplement it.

The analogy is that learning passively is like consuming too much candy, year in and year out. It gets you high, but it can have long-term, quite negative consequences. I guess it could be that with the intellectual equivalent of renal failure you get lazy about chopping wood, don’t know when you need to learn and you might be kidding yourself when you think you know. Or something.

Now if we could just get CPsquare workshops to involve heart-pounding, aerobic exercise, too!

In a simpler setting, when we’re launching the Foundations Workshop, for example, I have developed a whole set of heuristics for figuring out when people are engaged and the degree to which they are connecting with the group. Some of the tell-tales I use include:

• Have they logged on?
• Have they sent me their picture (avatar) or uploaded it themselves?
• Have they posted something?
• Is there evidence that they are navigating in different places and have some sense of what it means to post in different places?

During the first few weeks of a workshop, I have found a lot of different ways to model useful online behaviors, including:

• Expressing enthusiasm
• Disclosing essential information in a conversational way (rather than in an instruction page)
• Acknowledging and correcting mishaps
• Using the technology-mediated environment for contracting and engagement (rather than just information storage and retrieval)

But what is being presented in the Foundations Workshop is how to collaborate and be together in a community. That seems rather simpler than modeling or presenting technology stewardship. (I guess I’m thinking out loud here about what I find challenging so far about this workshop.)

In this workshop we’re establishing presence and making a lot of connections. People are asked to get access to:

• a wiki
• Web Crossing
• a blog
• del.icio.us
• Skype
• Flickr
• an RSS reader
• Twitter

And then we’re trying to connect all of these tools together. So needless to say, people establish themselves on these tools incrementally and as one of the workshop’s technology stewards, I try to connect them all. There are some ways in which the process I’m following seems unique:

• Trying to get everyone up and running at the same time — as opposed to a gradual gathering of people and technologies
• Trying to establish both a private face and a public one for a group
• Trying to support everyone more or less equally (obviously some technologies are old hat to some people and others are struggling with several new tools all at once)

Trying to compress a process in a workshop has all kinds of implications that are surprising. And I know that I don’t even see all of the issues yet. What am I missing?