Share is the new save.
Organizations or individuals not used to talking about so much “sharing” are often a bit incredulous, or suspicious, of the idea. Some of this stems from ideas one holds about the nature of knowledge. Do you see it as: An object, or bits of discrete data that can be captured and codified, independent of a human actor?
-or-
Something embedded in context, in people and communities, subject to negotiation and interpretation?
The first view, knowledge as discrete bits of data, is historically a common one in organizations and ties closely to ideas around formal knowledge management processes. It’s also, not surprisingly, tied to the rise of industrialization and a Taylorized view of work: What people “know” can be captured as bits stored in a spreadsheet or database. It is decontextualized, existing independent of the actor, and the organization’s goal is to codify it. This codified, stored knowledge is owned by the organization and new knowledge comes from accessing it. In many instances the organizational cart is driving the horse: there are stores of activity reports and blueprints and process maps removed from any context and free of the landmarks important to following a map.
Those of us who’ve tried to work with such an item know the reality. It is unreasonable to think a single map or diagram can capture everything that is known about a task: “Trying to divorce practice from work itself leaves us with a challenging view of what gets done, and how, and the intricacies of that. Brown and Duguid (1991) write about this at length, discussing the idea of an organization’s “maps,” those canonical documentations of processes and procedures and whatever else is considered “knowledge”: “As a journey becomes more complex, the map increasingly conceals what is actually needed to make the journey . . . the organization’s maps can dramatically distort its view of the routes its members take . . . Although the documentation becomes more prescriptive and ostensibly more simple, in actuality the task becomes more improvisational and more complex.”
“Need-to-know only preserves the status quo.”
The view that knowledge resides in people supports the emergence and support of “experts” within an organization or field. What is known is known in the heads of these individuals. Organizations must identify who they are, with the result of both potential information overload and heavy demands upon the individuals. The irony: the expert whose expertise is in heavy demand may be too busy being an expert to develop new knowledge or increase expertise; experts are eventually reduced to disseminator rather than creator. Where knowledge-as-data is warehoused in repositories, knowledge-as-expertise is often caught in email, employee profiles, and company directories. A couple of other problems: systems may inadvertently exclude people who have not been identified as experts, and, sadly, in some organizations employees hoard their knowledge because they feel it’s the only thing they own.
In both these cases whether and what people share is often tied to self-interests and organizational punishments and rewards, including status. Not surprisingly, working in either environment may encourage people to hoard what they know, or for managers to communicate information to employees strictly on a “need-to-know” basis.
The flaw in these views, if one is married to them too tightly, is the very nature of knowing. People aren’t very good at telling what they do, and often know more than they can articulate. As noted by Wasko and Faraj (2000), “This tacit component of knowledge has a personal quality which makes it hard to formalize and communicate, and is deeply rooted in action, commitment, and involvement in a specific context.” In other words, asking people to write down what they know tends to not get very good answers.
The last view of knowledge holds that it is embedded in communities and exists within habits and routines and shared language and stories. It develops in the context of shared work and interests and collaborative work toward solving a problem. It emerges in conversation, at the water cooler, in communities of practice and discussion forums and chat rooms. Brown and Duguid (1990) describe this as social capital residing “in the fabric of relationships between individuals and individuals’ connections with their communities.” In this view, unlike the others, the community generates, maintains, and exchanges knowledge and recognizes that it’s an intangible resource (not bits in a spreadsheet) that can’t be used up. Unlike the “expert,” individuals in the community are seen as knowledge resources rather than risk becoming disseminators.
“Knowledge detached from practice distorts and obscures the intricacies of that practice.”
∼Brown & Duguid, 1990
“In today’s environment, hoarding knowledge ultimately erodes your power. If you know something very important, the way to get power is by actually sharing it.”
∼ Joseph Badaraggo
A challenge is getting past the “what’s in it for me?” mindset. In a culture where knowledge is viewed as an asset, it’s only natural to view sharing as tied to some form of reciprocity or reward. Some do approach interactions with a hope of reciprocity, thinking of helping and sharing as a way of “banking” against a future need. But time spent in public conversations on Twitter or LinkedIn or Facebook can tell a lot about people’s willingness to share with little expectation of any return. Those who crave recognition and status can find it publicly, whereas they may not inside the organization. Many conversations, though, show a desire to share springing only from “I know this, and I want you to know it, too, because I found it interesting or useful.”
Sometimes people share information because it was learned the hard way and they realize it might be useful to someone else. David Byrne, in his new book How Music Works, reveals startlingly frank information about his financial income related to a particular project. He said, “I thought by being transparent and using my own experience as an example, I could let other musicians see what their options are—and how their decisions might pan out.”
As Wasko and Faraj found in their investigation “It Is What One Does: Why People Participate and Help Others in Electronic Communities of Practice,” people also share because:
A 1994 study by Constant, Kiesler, and Sproull showed that workers differentiated what they share and why. They viewed things like products (presentations, reports, programs) as assets owned by the company. But what they had learned was shared with colleagues and communities because they found benefit in sharing. In what Constant calls “emotional communion,” he says: “Experts will want to contribute to coworkers who need them, who will hear them, who will respect them, and who may even thank them.”
Yammer staff are known for embracing the idea of working out loud. UK-based Matthew Partovi regularly posts public requests for advice from colleagues and videos workshops he’s created, shares them as time-lapse examples of how he works, and offers RSA-style animated recaps (“I’m not so good with writing prose”) of conversations with clients. Partovi finds narrating his work builds trust with colleagues and encourages them to share as well, gets him better feedback, shows what he can do, and supports organizational goals of openness and transparency. Sydney-based Steve Hopkins captures narration as storytelling—particularly around how clients are using Yammer—and, like Partovi, shares presentations and rationale and asks for help and feedback. He finds this approach helps him move more quickly and gives everyone’s work greater velocity. Really, though, why do they do it? Partovi says, “I care and want to help.”
Given the tools and the emerging interest in sharing we are seeing the beginning of the end of the hand-it-in mentality. Where most readers probably wrote a report and handed it in for a teacher to grade, kids now create presentations and put them on SlideShare, publish them to YouTube, or otherwise make them available to a wider public. It makes no sense when graduates of a leadership academy submit final projects with “organization-wide impact” only to see them graded and placed in a box. Likewise, the view of knowledge in the workplace is changing: everything isn’t just stored away in a file cabinet in hopes it can be retrieved later.
Showing your work ultimately means everyone won’t have to learn everything the hard way.
Brown, J.S., & Duguid, P. (1991). Organizational Learning and Communities-of-Practice: Toward a Unified View of Working, Learning, and Innovation. Organization Science, 2, 40-57. 1991.
Constant, D., Kiesler, S., Sproull, L. (1994). What’s Mine Is Ours, or Is It? A study of attitudes about information sharing. Information Systems Research, 5(4), 400-421.
Wasko, M., & Faraj, S. (2000). It Is What One Does: Why People Participate and Help Others in Electronic Communities of Practice. The Journal of Strategic Information Systems, 9 (2), 155-173.