Figure 8.1 The Burke-Litwin Model—Organizational Performance and Change
As a result of a failed organizational change initiative, my colleagues and I (Noumair, Winderman, & Burke, 2010) argued for combining group relations and organization development in the practice of organizational consultation. Although tension exists between these approaches, we nonetheless made the case for the importance of organizational consultation practice that combines more deeply these two theoretical perspectives. OD models and frameworks alone are not always sufficient to surface underlying forces that influence the behavior of individuals, groups, and entire systems. Although attending to covert processes has long been an aspect of OD work, the aim of this chapter is to present a conceptual framework in addition to the ones discussed in Chapters 6 and 7, “Understanding Organizations: The Process of Diagnosis” and “The Burke-Litwin Model of Organizational Performance and Change,” respectively, that incorporates elements of group relations and OD, and to demonstrate through a case analysis what blending the two can look like in actual practice.
Having defined the client, presented selected OD models, and the Burke-Litwin model of organizational performance and change, the purpose of this chapter is to expand our understanding of diagnosis by including covert processes in organizational life. Thus, we introduce what we refer to as “Beneath the Surface of the Burke-Litwin Model” and show how attending to both sides of the model can contribute to a deeper understanding of an organization, and a way of practicing that allows clients the possibility of approaching, and discussing, what heretofore may have been out of awareness and considered “undiscussable.”
A conceptual framework for consulting to organizations that builds on group relations principles and practice consists of three components: psychodynamic theory, group-as-a-whole level of analysis, and social-structural concepts. We discuss each component separately and show how they are integrated into a coherent practice of organization consultation applied to a case study.
Psychodynamic theory (Gould, 2004; Hirschhorn, 1988; Obholzer & Roberts, 1994) is a lens for understanding covert aspects of organizational life. In addition to rational processes in organizational life, irrational and emotional forces are in operation and also influence the dynamics between the consultant and client. To make use of psychodynamic theory, one must consider that social systems have unconscious dynamics that can shape behavior but that are beyond the awareness of individuals as well as a group or system as a whole. Attending to unconscious influences and irrational behavior requires a shift in mind-set regarding what counts as data when analyzing or consulting to a system. This broader definition of data includes elements beyond what can be observed, counted, and measured, including what is invisible and intangible, what is not said, as well as what is said, and what is felt and experienced in the relationship between organizational client and consultant.
By employing psychodynamic theory in organizational consultation, systems can be viewed as having greater capacity for complexity and behavior determined by multiple factors, some conscious and rational, some unconscious and irrational. A psychodynamic analysis of an organization entails the study of its choice of defense mechanisms. Hirschhorn (1988) provides an in-depth discussion of the use of defense mechanisms in organizational life, identifying three forms of social defense: the basic assumption, the covert coalition, and the organizational ritual. Identifying these three forms of social defense can provide relevant information for the consultant, and ultimately, for the organization in its effort to understand itself.
A group-as-a-whole level of analysis (Wells, 1995) is one way to uncover social defenses as it answers the question of why individuals can act differently as members of groups and organizations than they do when acting solely on their own behalf. It provides a framework for understanding how individuals, subgroups, and entire organizations participate in maintaining an organizational “problem.” Unconscious group processes provide evidence for collusion among group members and connect individual and group behavior (Wells, 1995). When a consultant takes a group-as-a-whole perspective, she considers behavior at multiple levels and as such may uncover a problem’s root. Although she may not make her discovery explicit, she uses the information to develop interventions aimed at addressing the unconscious collusion among group members.
In addition, a group-as-a-whole level of analysis offers the idea that individuals can serve as “containers” for various parts of the group or organization’s emotional life—“serviceable others” (Morrison, 1992), compartments for painful, unwanted feelings, such as incompetence, in order for others in the organization to be viewed as competent or “stars.” Processes of splitting and projection, and in particular projective identification, when occurring at the group level, create what is known as role lock whereby individuals are used to “contain” various components of the group’s emotional life (Wells, 1995).
Individuals enter groups with valency (Bion, 1961), a predisposition based on background, personality, and social identities to carry certain emotions and attitudes. Recipients of projections must have valency to receive those particular projections. One useful metaphor for understanding valency is Velcro. When one has a predisposition for specific attributes or feelings, we say that the person has Velcro for those projections and therefore the projections “stick” more easily. When one does not have a predisposition for specific projections, we say the person has Teflon—the projections “slide” off. The metaphors of Velcro and Teflon enable individuals and groups to understand how role lock can occur as such unconscious processes are not readily observable and measurable and therefore are challenging to comprehend in organizational settings.
Although we use psychodynamic theory and a group-as-a-whole level of analysis to uncover what is below the surface of organizational life, our approach also borrows from open systems theory (Miller & Rice, 1967), Gould’s (2004) Systems Psychodynamic organizational consultation, Schein’s work on organizational culture (2004) and process consultation (1988, 1999), and Marshak’s (2006) model for addressing hidden dimensions of organizational change, all directed toward removing impediments to healthy and effective organizational life. This approach and these concepts are especially useful when responding to resistance and ambivalence related to organization change as they equip the consultant with effective tools to address underlying concerns that might not be immediately manifest (Gould, 2004; Hirschhorn, 1988; Krantz, 2001). My (Noumair) work with the case study presented in this chapter reflects an integration of these approaches all aimed at employing group dynamics and group relations concepts in service of more effective practice in organizational consultation.
To identify and confront unconscious group processes in organizational life, our approach to consultation begins with social-structural concepts known collectively as BART (Boundary, Authority, Role, and Task) (Green & Molenkamp, 2005). Boundaries can be defined as physical or psychological discontinuities separating a system from its environment; they must be strong enough to maintain the integrity of what is inside but permeable enough to allow transactions between inside and outside. Authority is understood as the right to do work in service of the task and can be both formal and informal. Authority is related to role in that organizational authority accompanies formal, rational work roles; that is, authority is delegated to individuals to carry out the responsibilities of formal work roles of the organization. Authority for informal roles, in contrast, can be assumed by individuals, based on personality or valency (“Velcro”), to contain anxiety on the part of others in the organization. Task is the primary reason a group exists and while there are different kinds of tasks, clarity about the purpose of the group is essential to understanding it as a social system. Using BART as a diagnostic tool enables organizational members to consider emotional and other sub rosa factors that may affect, distort, or obscure rational structural features of an organization. Besides its diagnostic benefits, BART can also serve as an antidote to irrational dynamics in groups and assist in the management of projective processes in organizations.
A framework known collectively as GRPI (Goals, Roles, Processes, Interpersonal relationships) (Beckhard, 1972; Burke, 1988, 1994) is another useful tool for intervention and is similar to BART in that its components are usually more familiar to organizational members than are psychodynamic concepts. Lack of clarity about goals, roles and responsibilities, and processes and procedures often contributes to increased anxiety, which can produce difficulties in interpersonal relationships.
Often organization consultation is sought because of poor relations among its members as well as the quality of relatedness across subsystems—both of which interfere with an organization’s capacity to produce high-quality work. Employing the GRPI framework (Beckhard, 1972; Burke, 1988, 1994), a consultant would not begin by addressing interpersonal relationships, however, because these difficulties in relationships would be viewed as symptoms and not as root causes. Rather, a consultant would employ GRPI in a hierarchical fashion initially assessing whether everyone was clear about organizational goals and purposes. Once alignment among organization members regarding the organizational mission was apparent, a consultant would work on clarifying roles and responsibilities, followed by helping the group to establish processes and procedures for collaboration. Usually once goals, roles, and processes are clarified, interpersonal tensions decrease in importance, or even disappear.
Organization members respond similarly to the frameworks of GRPI and BART, as both provide a way of understanding group and organization dynamics that are more recognizable and customary than a discussion of unconscious processes and irrationality in group and organizational life.
Employing this model, comprised of psychodynamic theory, a group-as-a-whole level of analysis, and social-structural concepts, allows consultants to take up an “interpretive stance” (Shapiro & Carr, 1991), searching for understanding without being judgmental either of their clients or of themselves. Second, sensitivity to group process in addition to content (Schein, 1988, 1999) enables early diagnosis of those group dynamics that may impede group functioning. This approach sets the stage for considering links between often unconscious emotional processes, group development, and organizational behavior.
Although psychodynamic theory, a group-as-a-whole level of analysis, and social-structural concepts represent the main components of this approach, other conceptual frameworks, theories, tools, and even language are necessary for intervention with organizations. We have learned of the need to transform psychodynamic conceptualizations into “client-friendly” language. One cannot discuss unconscious and irrational processes without—at least initially—linking the ideas to more familiar concepts. When trying to influence a client at the beginning of an engagement, it is not wise to use language related to the unconscious as it conjures up negative and fearful images of psychoanalysis, psychotherapy, and irrationality and a journey into the realm of deep emotionality. As a result, this approach should only rarely be used alone; it is best utilized in conjunction with other organizational models and frameworks. However, despite these cautions, it is an approach that tends to gradually appeal to clients once they have had the opportunity to experience its impact. Although at first organization members may feel the approach is off point, eventually they come to understand how the conscious and unconscious, rational and irrational, overt and covert are inextricably linked to the more prosaic problems they are experiencing.
As discussed in Chapter 7, a well-established organization development model whose content is more familiar to organization members is the Burke-Litwin model of organizational performance and change (1992). The model—a well-suited companion to the psychodynamic approach—represents a more rational, linear way to think about organizations and, as such, organization clients are less threatened by it. The model serves as a point of departure for organization development as it allows clients to visualize the ways in which various components of organizations are connected and interact.
As shown in Figure 8.1, the top portion of the model contains transformational boxes (external environment, mission and strategy, leadership, and organization culture) and the bottom portion of the model contains transactional boxes (management practices, structure, systems, work unit climate, motivation, individual needs and values, individual skills and abilities, and individual and organizational performance). Organizations accomplish macro-organization change by focusing on the transformational (top) boxes of the model and micro-organization change is achieved by focusing on the transactional (bottom) boxes of the model. Based on open systems theory, the arrows between boxes depict how change in one part of the organization can affect change in another part of the organization.
Interestingly, although the Burke-Litwin model also serves as a guide for intervention in an organization change process, it does not always provide a lens for examining why 70 percent of change efforts fail (Burke, 2011a). Understanding such failures requires consideration of the challenges encountered in sustaining change (Burke, 2014b) and various forms of resistance that can arise in organizations (Piderit, 2000). An approach informed by the combination of psychodynamic theory, group-as-a-whole level of analysis, and social-structural concepts provides a particularly probing model for doing so. In effect, one can imagine that obscuring the Burke-Litwin model’s boxes and arrows are veils, which must be removed in order to reveal, diagnose, and respond to covert processes that may be interfering with an organization’s change efforts.
As depicted in Figure 8.2, beneath the surface of the Burke-Litwin model lie what may be unconscious and irrational aspects of an organization. For example, an overt conflict between two individuals may appear rational on the surface but might also be evidence of competitive dynamics related to leadership succession; that is, power and authority issues and unspoken conflict beneath the surface. Or, a team may act less competent than it actually is on the surface as evidence of performance anxiety and fear of making a mistake under the surface. When considering what lies beneath the Burke-Litwin model, as was the case in Chapter 7, it is important to visualize the model as a hologram, a three-dimensional illustration in which it is possible to see what is on top of and underneath the model simultaneously.
The following case study provides an example of how utilizing a conceptual framework for organizational consultation informed by psychodynamic theory, a group-as-a-whole level of analysis, and social-structural concepts in combination with the use of the Burke-Litwin model of organization performance and change and beneath the surface of the Burke-Litwin model contributed to organizational culture change and facilitated leadership succession—an example of how removing the veils allowed the consultant and the client system to access covert processes that lie beneath the surface.
The head of the Luminary Institute (a pseudonym for a think tank) had called me (Noumair), seeking consultation because of concern about two managers on his leadership team. He wanted to discuss the possibility of my providing coaching for them, although he was worried about singling them out because the organization was relatively small and “everyone knew everything.”
Beyond hearing this presenting symptom, I noted to myself how defensive, withholding, and anxious the executive seemed during the conversation. Each suggestion I made was met with “no” for an answer. Although he said that he wanted consultation, he was emphatic that the “problem” to be addressed was at the individual level and distinct from any organizational-level phenomenon. The initial conversation ended with my feeling discouraged and trapped. How could I take the case given that it was clear from this initial contact that I would never please him? What help could I provide?
The next meeting I had was with the head of the institute and his deputy and it was similar to my phone conversation. He said no to all of the solutions I suggested, including coaching the managers individually and working with the two of them as a pair. Finally, toward the end of the meeting, I offered a system intervention, saying that often individuals carry symptoms on behalf of the organization and that what was going on with these two managers might be symptomatic of larger systemic issues. I asked them to tell me about the functioning of the leadership team. They were intrigued with this interpretation and we came to an agreement that I would work with the leadership team, composed of the heads of each of the institute’s functional departments, rather than with the two “symptomatic” individuals.
Based on individual interviews with everyone on the leadership team, I discovered that the primary organizational concern was actually a high turnover rate rather than, or possibly in addition to, the functioning of the two individual managers initially discussed. It then made more sense to me why the request had been about coaching as high organizational turnover is often linked to leadership and culture (Follett, 1996). Further, I sensed that the institute was a challenging place to work as perfectionism at any cost was the standard by which individuals were measured—providing additional data for my developing hypothesis that the organization culture was problematic.
Using psychodynamic theory, a group-as-a-whole level of analysis, and social-structural concepts in conjunction with the Burke-Litwin model, I developed a working hypothesis that linked data from various sources. The organization had changed its mission and strategy from focusing solely on research to also including advocacy, and its structure from working individually to working in teams. This story framed the organizational concerns (i.e., high turnover, conflict among two members of the leadership team, and aspects of the culture) as consequences of the change in the organization’s mission and strategy. Applying the top of the Burke-Litwin model, I suggested that the consultation could best focus on the leadership team because this model links leadership with both mission and strategy and with culture (Burke & Litwin, 1992) and proposed that it was the leadership team’s responsibility to align mission and strategy with culture. As we set out on the consultancy, the Burke-Litwin model served as a comfortable conversation starter—a road map reminding participants that although they might feel lost along the way, they were actually on a particular track.
We often introduce personality assessments when working with an organization for several reasons: First, they provide individual information that might not otherwise be accessible and the assessment data invite a conversation about an individual’s role in the organization and the reciprocal influences of the individual and the organization on each other. Second, they provide individuals with data for their own development apart from their specific work roles and therefore can motivate them to engage more fully. Third, the results can be used to compile a group profile; that is, a picture of the organization that serves as another way for the client group to understand itself as a collective entity. This additional snapshot allows for more candid conversation about the group’s strengths and challenges as it is informed by assessment data rather than by what any one person reports in an individual interview and therefore is viewed as more objective. Using personality assessments to connect individual and group behavior to inform organization development work is a well-established data-based intervention (Burke & Noumair, 2002; Hogan, 2006). Given this rationale, I invited all members of the leadership team to take the Myers Briggs Type Indicator, Step II (MBTI) (www.ConsultingPsychologistsPress.com) and the Hogan Development Survey (assessment of leadership derailers) (www.HoganAssessments.com; Hogan, 2006).
The assessment results helped me deepen my working hypothesis about the leadership team. I viewed the two members of the leadership team who were depicted as the initial presenting problem as “containers” of a split in the organization. Their assessment profiles suggested that the two of them were more comfortable than others to serve as fight leaders. Whenever there were opposing sides to an issue, the leadership team could depend on the two of them to locate themselves in opposition to one another as they each had “Velcro” for such projections. When they did so, everyone else was off the hook; no one else had to enter the fray. Thus, the team’s collusion in unwittingly allowing these two conflict-prone individuals to fight served them as everyone else on the team appeared affable and cooperative. I tucked away this idea until I had further data to support it and enough evidence to share it with the entire leadership team.
At the first retreat held for the leadership team, I first reported group profiles from the two personality assessments and then offered my thematic analysis and my working hypothesis about the organization.
This is a common practice, as presenting individual and group assessment profiles first can serve as a warm-up of sorts, providing an opportunity for the team to interact with each other and learn about themselves, individually and collectively. However, when I presented the MBTI group profile, the two fight leaders were immediately, and relentlessly, critical of my presentation, complaining that I did not present the data accurately and suggesting other ways of doing it. This reaction surprised me, and given that the rest of the leadership team, including the leader, remained silent during this attack, I viewed the two members who had Velcro for conflict, as speaking on behalf of the team as a whole. It was as if the leadership team unconsciously put them forward to challenge me.
When a group acts as if it is working on a task other than the task it has formally been assigned, it is often as a method of defending against the anxiety that is triggered by the real work (Bion, 1961; Gustafson & Cooper, 1992). What is challenging diagnostically is that often groups take up the as if task, in Bion’s terms, basic assumption mode (Bion, 1961), with as much vigor as they would if they were working on the formally assigned task. Therefore, the consultant is easily seduced into believing the group is doing real work rather than obstructing progress.
After responding to a few iterations of their criticism in a straightforward, non-defensive manner, I began to understand the as if quality to what was going on. I said as much, deciding to use self-as-instrument (Berg & Smith, 1985, 1988; Burke, 1982, 1994; Cheung-Judge, 2001; Gillette, 1995; Levinson, 1972a; McCormick & White, 2000; Smith, 1995). I said that I had a pit in my stomach. I was filled with dread at the idea of working with them over the next day and a half during which I was to give three more presentations. Given this fight process, I understood why the turnover rate in the organization was so high.
There was a collective gasp in the room and a look of astonishment on their faces. They seemed horrified that I, or any consultant, would say such a thing to them. Their self-image was of a very smart, very buttoned-up, polite, and proper group of people. This was not a group characterized by candor.
Suddenly, one member of the team spoke up, “That pit in your stomach, I know that pit in your stomach—it is the same pit I have in my stomach every time I enter a leadership team meeting.” Another added, “We hired you to shine a flashlight on what we do so we can better understand why we have the reputation that we do, and you have done that—whether we like what we see when the light is shone or not.”
It was a critical moment in the consultation. I viewed the conversation that followed my “self-as-instrument” moment as the first evidence of real work among the team, and I labeled the person who identified with my “pit in the stomach” as the first work leader to emerge, other than the formal leader of the organization. The work leader’s role was integral to what transpired as it symbolized the responsibility having shifted from the consultant to a member of the team, and soon after, to the other members of the team who had chimed in. By drawing the parallel between my experience in the retreat and her experience in leadership team meetings, she led the team to take ownership of their work in the retreat, gave legitimacy to the consultation, and credibility to me as its architect, reflecting an example of the use of parallel process in organizational consultation (Sullivan, 2002).
What then became clear was that the two members of the team who were the initial presenting problem, the two with “Velcro” for fight and conflict, represented the two separate components of the organization’s mission, research, and advocacy. Although there certainly were interpersonal issues between these two team members, refocusing on the conflict inherent in having two primary tasks, which they symbolized, seemed to free up the team to work on those issues. What also became clear was that other members of the organization split these two parts of the overall mission, some aligning with research behind the researcher “spokesperson” and others more aligned with advocacy behind the head of advocacy, the “advocacy spokesperson.” Once group members were able to own their individual contributions to the split, the antagonism between the two primary actors lessened in intensity and they too began to work together in a manner that appeared creative and free flowing.
To understand what happened next at the retreat, it is important to describe an interaction that occurred in preparation for it. I had gone to lunch with the leader and shared with him themes from the individual interviews I had conducted with leadership team members and said that I was concerned that at the retreat candor would be stifled and team members inhibited by his presence. Leadership team members perceived the leader as “the smartest person in the room” and they feared being shamed for not measuring up. He said that if that happened, I should “call him on it”—that I should make his behavior as well as its impact on his team explicit in the moment that it occurred. I responded, “Right then and there, in public?” And he said, “Yes, call me on it.” Although I could not believe what I was hearing, at the same time, I thought to myself, “I now have a contract for work.”
Having made this agreement with the leader, I felt confident that I did not have to collude with the organization. Had I not shared with him in advance what I had learned in my interviews about his staff’s perception of him, I would have been mimicking his staff’s behavior. I would have acted as if he were too scary to be talked to directly—that one should not speak truth to power. The effect of withholding that information would also have worked in the other direction; I would have been acting as if his staff’s perceptions of him were “true” and therefore that I would be at risk in the same way in which they felt they were at risk. This preparation eventually allowed me to make what was covert, overt, and model for the staff how to have an authentic conversation with the leader.
Establishing a “contract for work” with the head of the organization allowed me to address at the retreat what I imagined would be necessary; that is, to confront the leader and his team about their authority relations with each other. For the first time, the leader acknowledged that he was part of the problem, that he was in part responsible for the high rate of turnover, a symptom of the organization’s rough culture. Tears accompanied his revelation, which was quite upsetting to some members of his team, and also signified a second critical event in the consultation. It became clear that the leadership team was invested in protecting the leader and maintaining the status quo. One member said that my first responsibility was to do no harm and as far as he was concerned, I had done harm, as I should not be creating conditions in which the leader cried in public. His rebuke, followed by an elaborate argument that I should preserve the perceived invulnerability of the leader, brought to mind Lewin’s maxim that the best way to understand an organization is to try and change it (Lewin, 1951).
My understanding of this reaction was that as long as the leader was seen as “the problem,” no one on the leadership team had to take responsibility for it. If they instead engaged the interpretation that the issues related to high turnover were systemic, not personal, and that they had collective responsibility, each person could then be held accountable for his or her own behavior. Rather than going a level deeper and owning up to their contributions, some members of the leadership team preferred to remain invested in the more emotionally convenient arrangement. Further, it would later be revealed that the leadership team’s lack of ownership of the organization’s culture at the initial retreat was a warning sign that they were unable, or perhaps unwilling, to work without the leader. Although obvious in retrospect, competition among team members to be chosen as successor may have contributed to their investment in maintaining the illusion that only the leader was responsible for the organizational culture. Moreover, the leader’s wish to remain solely in control of the organization and protect the legacy of its founder prevented him from more aggressively confronting the leadership team. At various points in the consultation, I thought about framing the organization as a family business given the ironclad adherence to roles displayed by the members. However, given that the institute did not initially sign up for changing the culture and the question of succession, though fundamental, had not yet been broached, pursuing these questions at this stage did not seem appropriate.
To build on the learning from the first retreat, I developed a plan to address the split in relating to the two organizational missions as well as to improve authority relations. It was necessary to address these issues at multiple levels. First, it was important to alert the entire organization that the leadership team was considering the application of group relations concepts to the organization’s challenges as doing so meant that they were taking a systemic, rather than personal, view of the institute and everyone would be expected to participate in addressing the challenges. We decided that I would make a presentation at a staff meeting on group dynamics and team development to introduce the group relations perspective to the organization as a whole.
At the presentation, I introduced the ideas presented at the outset of this chapter, including psychodynamic theory (Gould, 2004; Hirschhorn, 1988; Obholzer & Roberts, 1994), a group-as-a-whole level of analysis (Rutan, Stone, & Shay, 2007; Wells, 1995), and BART (Green & Molenkamp, 2005) as a framework for analyzing groups in an organizational context. Doing so was an opportunity for me as the consultant to act as educator, providing the organization with a new way of thinking about organizational life. The staff was clearly relieved that I was analyzing the organization as a whole rather than the individuals within it. At the same time, it seemed like the beginning of interrupting a culture of blame; it was now at least theoretically possible to consider that the organization, collectively, was responsible for what had been created.
On the day I was to give the presentation, I arrived wearing a large necklace with three circular silver plates, positioned vertically one on top of the other so that the necklace hung from my neck to my waist. In an illustration of the extent to which the consultation had begun to have an effect on the organization, a member of the leadership team looked at my necklace and asked, “What is that, a bulletproof vest?” I responded in kind, “Yes, I figured that since I would be shot at once again I would protect myself this time.” Although we both acknowledged the humor in our exchange, we were also acknowledging that we now had a familiar way of talking about the organization, about the culture, and about our work together. Once again, an organization member had made the covert overt.
Next, we introduced a plan to collect multi-rater feedback for the entire leadership team. Multi-rater or 360 feedback is a report of the perceptions of an employee’s entire circle of work colleagues—manager, peers, direct reports, and sometimes even customers and clients (Bracken, Timmreck, & Church, 2001). Before beginning this feedback process, I met with those staff members who would be interviewed as direct reports of the leadership team in advance and explained the entire process and the rules of engagement, that is, confidentiality and anonymity.
This meeting, too, was an important turning point in the consultation as it was now becoming much clearer that the organizational culture required change, that the problem was not one of individuals but instead one of “how we do things around here” (Deal & Kennedy, 1982). Like the leadership team before them, it was now the staff’s turn to resist. They did not think multi-rater feedback was the correct solution to the problem. In their minds, the problem was not any one of the individual leadership team members but the collective leadership team, and the organization’s culture as a whole that they felt the leadership team had produced. Some went so far as to say that the problem was the leader of the organization as they were versed in leadership theory that suggests that the leader is responsible for driving the culture (Schein, 2004). They viewed multi-rater feedback as off target, misplaced, and a waste of resources. Concerned about retaliation for their comments in the interviews, they warned me about the lack of candor I could expect from them. The harmony of their voices was quite compelling and helped to make the case that organizational culture needed to be addressed.
As a consequence of this conversation, I kept a log of all comments related to the organizational culture that surfaced during the feedback interviews and agreed to report only those themes endorsed by more than one person to ensure that controversial issues could not be linked or traced back to any one individual. Not surprisingly, the environment was perceived as controlled, perfectionist, and risk-averse; overthinking and an inability to prioritize prevailed. In addition, there was a perceived lack of differentiation in task and responsibilities, and hierarchy ruled. If this was truly “the way we do things around here,” one could see why there was a high turnover rate at this organization.
The final stage of the feedback process required that I interview the board of directors of the institute about the leader as they collectively held managerial authority over him. These discussions provided a window into the problem of succession as I learned that board members were concerned that there was no internal candidate who could serve as successor and therefore the long-term sustainability of the institute was at risk. The most pressing issue for board members was developing the leadership team’s capacity to work without the leader at the same time as enabling them to follow the direction of a successor from outside the institute. When I shared the board members’ feedback with the leader, I discovered that he, too, had concerns about the future of the institute and readily engaged the charge from the board that he prepare his staff to work without him. While focusing on culture change at the institute was the overt task the organization was working on at this point, the leader was working on a covert task; that is, developing his team in order to set the stage for his retirement while actively keeping his time frame for retirement a secret. I learned that the leader was concerned that if he made his plan to retire public he would become a lame duck leader and have to relinquish control; while wanting to step down on one hand, he was also concerned that the institute was not ready for leadership succession. The board’s feedback enabled him to understand at a deeper level that his job as leader was to replace himself and that his leadership would be judged by the effectiveness of his leadership team after he was gone (Kaiser, Hogan, & Craig, 2008; Hogan, Curphy, & Hogan, 1994). The discourse on leadership succession became a central theme in parallel discussions I held with the leader and the board.
Viewing the presentation of the culture data that had been collected during the multi-rater feedback interviews was very difficult for the leadership team: They were devastated. They found all sorts of reasons to deny what I had reported. Eventually, however, they realized that they were accountable for the processes that had been put in place to conduct the work and they had to acknowledge the unintentional consequences of those processes. Once again, the leadership team had to bend from its original idea about what the organizational consultation was about to discover the truth as perceived by those at lower levels in the organization. The task was not fixing individuals, but changing the way they as leaders worked together and with their staff and the way the organization as a whole did business. The organization, and specifically the leadership team, finally began to take responsibility for the culture it had created.
As a result of the cultural revelations, every meeting agenda now included time for “bitching” at the outset—an acknowledgment of the importance of one’s emotional state at work. Leaders and staff alike were now able to say what was usually left unspoken, denied, or even shoved aside. Although this might not seem like an important change, it represented the beginning of a shift in the culture, from controlled to expressive, solely cerebral to also emotional, and allowing room for play as well as work.
As the leadership team focused on clarifying the organizational structure and roles and responsibilities, we decided to conduct individual team retreats for each functional department of the institute. At each retreat, we provided individual and group assessment profiles, reported on collective themes from individual interviews, and worked to create conditions in which difficult issues could be voiced, and the covert could be made overt.
With the completion of these retreats, a noticeable difference began to emerge in the ways individuals and teams interacted with each other. It was clear that work on creating a culture of candor was under way. There was also a significant change in the behavior of the organization’s leader. He modeled open communication and expressed more vulnerability, which went a long way toward developing a more positive perception of his leadership as well as accelerating culture change.
The next phase of the consultation involved working at multiple levels simultaneously. The leadership team focused on effective management by learning how to have difficult conversations, conducting more effective performance appraisals, modeling better meeting management, and increasing delegation of authority. Importantly, the organization as a whole began working on becoming more reflective and instituted mechanisms for individual and collective self-monitoring that allowed for the generating of insights that might facilitate further change. This was in sharp contrast to the organization that I initially encountered in which learning was equated with not having adequately prepared, and learning in public was equated with humiliation.
At this point, the organization had progressed enough that the leadership team saw fit to have conducted a formal survey on its culture; findings regarding trust, fairness, and psychological safety, not surprisingly, corroborated the findings from the consultation already under way. This “objective” data challenged the leadership team’s previous defense that the data I had collected earlier were somehow not valid.
With no place to hide, the organization steeled itself to engage more broadly in the work necessary to change its reputation as a challenging place to work. We established a new ground rule in our work, namely that an organization member could not talk unless he acknowledged how he contributed to the problems in the current culture. The idea behind this was that dynamics related to trust, fairness, and psychological safety are co-created by all members of an organization even though differential responsibility and accountability are aligned with positional authority. At first, no one could speak, as all were invested in blaming others, and more specifically, in blaming up. Eventually, however, each person began to own his or her contribution to the dysfunction, providing evidence for the effectiveness of the group-as-a-whole level intervention.
Once the entire organization had digested the culture survey results, taken responsibility, individually and collectively, and worked on implementing action plans, we were ostensibly finished with the consultation. Now it was a matter of ongoing monitoring and making adjustments as needed. At last, the most important veil fell away: The leader decided to make public his plan for retirement.
Monthly meetings between the consultant and the leader continued for eight months and then ceased during the search for the leader’s successor. Once the search process was complete, meetings between the consultant and the leader continued until the leader retired from the organization. The engagement extended for five years in total, beginning with the initial phone call and ending with the completion of a search for the leader’s successor.
In hindsight, and with the psychodynamic veils removed and beneath the surface of the Burke-Litwin model revealed, the issues at this organization were rather straightforward. The real but underlying need of the organization was to find a way to survive without its leader. When the board first raised this issue, its members declared the leader could not retire until the organization could work without him. The challenge of meeting that condition had effectively brought the organization’s progress to a halt and the organization had found refuge in obfuscation and fight—focusing on the two feuding principals, blaming the leader, and finally blaming the consultant. By pulling away the psychodynamic veils one by one, it became clear that in order to move forward, the entire organization needed to focus on repairing a culture dominated by perfectionism and hyperrationality as defenses against the covert processes. Only then could the organization become autonomous enough that the leader could step down.
Organizations are like individuals in that no two are alike. And while the integrative model of consultation illustrated here seems widely, if not universally applicable, its specific application needs to be adapted to the unique culture of a client organization.
To make the most effective use of this approach, consultants need to engage in reflective practice (discussed in Chapter 12, “The Organization Development Consultant”), action-reflection/reflection-action processes (Schön, 1983), double loop learning (Argyris & Schön, 1978), using self as instrument (Berg & Smith, 1985, 1988; Burke, 1982, 1994; Cheung-Judge, 2001; Gillette, 1995; Levinson, 1972a; McCormick & White, 2000; Smith, 1995), and “getting on the balcony” (Heifetz, 1994). They need to take the unfamiliar-to-the-world-of-business approach of honoring psychological experience and offer a model of how to do this for their clients. This requires understanding the organization’s resistance to thinking psychologically, making a compelling case for reflection, reframing individual behavior as symptomatic of systemic issues, and co-creating conditions that allow for the exploration of emotional and irrational, as well as rational, forces in organizational life.
Consulting to an organization, using this framework, requires a core capacity to reflect on one’s emotional experience, interrogate that experience, make meaning of it, inquire about the emotional experience of others, and trust that emotional experience constitutes valid data (Argyris, 1965). The issues a consultant faces at the outset of a consultation may not make immediate rational sense, but will always make psychological sense. Once the consultant experiences the underlying reasons she was hired in the first place, her experience becomes perhaps the first useful data point in the discovery process.
That moment—like the moment when the leadership team member affirmed the pit in my stomach—will feel like a great relief because the consultant will know she is finally moving forward, but paradoxically, that is when caution is most necessary. Removing veils allows an organization’s defense mechanisms to be revealed, providing important diagnostic information on where and what the underlying pain and anxiety are (Halton, 1994; Hirschhorn, 1988), but consultants must understand that some organizational defenses must be respected and left in place, for example, defending against the pain of having lost a beloved organizational member or leader.
The final chapter of any successful consultancy of this nature involves allowing an organization to reconstitute, enabling a more self-aware and self-monitoring organization that is able to use its defenses to confront adversity while at the same time maintaining a vibrant and healthy culture that supports its mission.
In addition to the models and frameworks covered in Chapters 6 and 7, we presented a conceptual framework for organizational consultation that incorporates group relations and organization development. As components of a group relations perspective, we introduced the utility of psychodynamic theory, a group-as-a-whole level of analysis, and social-structural concepts. Psychodynamic theory provides a lens for understanding covert aspects of group and organizational life. Focusing on the group as the level of analysis, a group-as-a-whole perspective allows for greater understanding of the root causes of behavior; provides an understanding of how individuals, subgroups, and entire organizations participate in maintaining a “problem”; and presents evidence for collusion among group members thereby linking individual and group behavior. Social-structural concepts, BART (Boundary, Authority, Role, and Task) (Green & Molenkamp, 2005), is a framework for understanding the extent to which groups and organizations are interdependent and structurally organized to do work. GRPI (Goals, Roles, Processes, and Interpersonal relationships) (Beckhard, 1972; Burke, 1988, 1994) is a diagnostic tool to be utilized hierarchically; that is, first determine the extent to which there is alignment about goals; once achieved, clarify roles and responsibilities followed by processes for collaboration. Both BART and GRPI use concepts and language that are familiar to organization members and therefore may be less threatening than tools that purport to uncover covert processes.
In addition to the Burke-Litwin model (Burke & Litwin, 1992) discussed in depth in Chapter 7, we introduced the Burke-Litwin model beneath the surface and as was the case earlier, we invited the reader to imagine a hologram, a three-dimensional image in which it is possible to simultaneously see what is on the surface and what is beneath the surface of the model. To bring to life this conceptual framework that expands the Burke-Litwin model to include the unconscious and irrational aspects of organizations, we presented a case analysis. The case included the use of assessments (multi-rater feedback and personality inventories) for individuals and teams, and the use of self-as-instrument and reflective practice.
Although detecting covert processes can contribute to a more robust organization diagnosis, employing both perspectives, group relations and organization development, allows the client system to work with what is on the surface, and probably more accessible, as well as what lies beneath the surface, and initially, out of awareness. The conceptual framework presented in this chapter serves as a tool for shining a light on organizational dynamics.
1. This chapter is a modification of the article published in The International Journal of Group Psychotherapy (Noumair, 2013).
