Tuesday, March 10, 2009

The choice of the story teller

It is midnight the evening before leaving on my spring book tour. I wasn’t quite planning to write tonight, actually I was already in bed, but then the muse started talking. I didn’t listen for the last few nights when she did that in the middle of the night—too lazy to get up. But I guess she has turned nocturnal and if I am going to continue this blog at this point, it is going to be in the middle of the night. So here I am, in my robe, curled up with a computer on my lap, close to the woodstove in the living room as my office is to cold. It is -25 C outside. I hope I’m not going to regret this tomorrow during my drive to Red Deer and Edmonton.
I did leave the last post up for a longer period than planned due to the fact that it was touching people in some profound ways and I personally found the events deserved the attention. But why did it strike a chord with people? And how was it different from the stories we hear on a daily basis in the media? I accused the media of not sticking to the facts, but did that not make me just as judgmental? What are facts? What is reality? Don’t worry this is not some quantum physics post on multiple realities, but rather a down to earth observation about a root cause of conflicts. Why are we so fast to judge? And how does that lead to conflict and pain? These were the questions that occupied my mind over the past week.
When I wrote In the Eyes of Anahita 5-years ago I realized I didn’t need a supreme theory about how to change all (or any) of the world’s problems, but rather, that it was enough to make people think—to wake readers up to new possibilities and unknown realities, to tease their minds into that unbridled curiosity with which we are all born—so they would be moved to action and set out on the adventure to discover new solutions and co-create a better world. That’s also what the previous blog post did, it made people think—opened up a window to an alternative perspective—and therefore, it expanded the experience of readers and offered growth for those who took time to reflect on it. Ultimately I always write or present to provoke thought, not merely to be provocative for the sake of it, but because I’ve learned that our mind needs to be engaged in reflection, exploration and critical thinking before expansion, learning and growth can take place.
Now, let’s have a look at the media, the predominant story teller in our culture. The media claims to report facts. Reporters are trained to research facts and present the audience with a picture of reality so that we can all know what goes on in the world. On issues where some people have contrasting opinions or claim different facts they will, at times, give those opposing views coverage. The problem with this approach is that every reality they report on, every fact they claim as truth, is always an interpretation from one unique individual out of 7 billion. No one else on the planet can have the exact same experience and perspective as the reporter who researches the events and puts the story together. The approach in itself is not wrong, it never could be anything else, but what is absurd is the claim that they report facts, truth, and present an objective story. The question can never be whether a story is objective or a complete presentation of the facts—it is impossible for it to be that—but rather what we should ask is what is the intend of the storyteller? Is it to expand the mind of the audience, to help the audience grow from the stories that are being told, or is it to rally the crowd into judgment and join a particular side of the conflict, debate, war or tragedy?
As story teller we have a choice to make, a choice about what we want to achieve with telling a story. Do we help people explore the different aspects of reality or do we hone in on the one reality we see, present it as the whole truth and nothing but the truth and rally the crowd into judgment.
If all this sounds too theoretical or if you think this only applies to story tellers, let me demonstrate how this plays out on a daily basis in all of our lives.
Some of you know that in a previous life I was a business executive. I was in business development and my main skill was international negotiations. I was once asked by a client to help solve a conflict between a German and an American corporation. Both companies had entered into a business relationship two years earlier, but lately one dispute had let to another and the relationship had gotten really strained. They flew me to Frankfurt to attend a meeting between the management teams of both companies. When the meeting started I just sat in the room, listened and observed as the arguments and accusations where flying from one side of the board room to the other, neither side realizing their could possibly be another side of the reality they were seeing, both seemingly unaware of how they could only win by understanding that other reality and by working together as partners to solve the problems at hand. After thirty minutes of the spectacle, I interrupted the heated drama and put a coffee can in the middle of the table. The coffee can had some distinct markings on one side and was boringly pale on the other side. I asked the management team of one company to describe in detail the coffee can they saw in front of them. Then I asked the same of the management of the other company which was looking at opposite side of the same can. Low and behold, both teams gave an entirely different description of the same coffee can—the same reality at the centre of the table was described differently, both stories were fact based. It was only the cumulative perspectives taken from alternate angles that could present a more complete picture of the reality on the table. Through the simple exercise the teams realized that it was only by putting their pictures together, rather than debating them, that solutions could surface. For the next three days, both management teams worked together and solved all their issues. I didn’t do a thing anymore. Every time someone started debating, someone else reminded them that they were having the coffee can syndrome.
How often do we all suffer from the coffee can syndrome? How often does our judgment get in the way of seeing the alternative perspective of the same reality? Sure we can know and speak our truth, but what makes the truth of someone else less valuable or less right? How much less conflict would there be if we could accept that we can never see or understand the whole truth and nothing but the truth? How much would we learn if we would explore other perspectives and withhold our judgment? How much would we grow as individuals and as a society? Can you imagine the issues we might be able to solve—together?

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