My Practice
There is no clean label for what I do. I work at the intersection of philosophy, editing, and facilitation, helping individuals and groups discern what is worth doing, find the words for it, and give it form.
Concretely, I work with:
founders to find the spine of an emerging venture
thinkers and researchers to bring original texts to publication
expert practitioners to reach higher levels of maturity
leaders and stewards to foster more aligned organisations and communities.
I work one-on-one, and also design and facilitate workshops, strategy days, culture retreats, and intercultural programs. For this, I draw on liberating structures, human-centred design, embodied practice and systems sensing.
In parallel, I develop, test and circulate ideas, models and methods to make better sense of our complex world – a sort of DIY clarity toolbox, if you will. You can read more about that in My Writing.
This page is my attempt to articulate what I actually do, and why it matters. Let’s call it a personal theory of change, in three parts: how I work, what I’m hoping to achieve, and what trade-offs I must accept. For details, read through my Principles and my Project History.
1 – How do I work?
“I like to listen and look for common ground”
For a while now, my personal tagline has been ‘I like to listen, and look for common ground’. This is a good way to sum up my craft as a philosopher, editor, and facilitator. Let’s unpack it.
At a basic level, I use what I call the magic of listening. Following the principle that ‘where attention goes, energy flows’, I prompt individuals and groups to listen better to themselves through role-modelling. When they discern the signal from the noise, the right action follows – or at least, it is more likely to.
I combine this with active mirroring. Drawing on wide experience and sources of knowledge, I reframe what I hear, feel and observe, translating elusive, dissonant or dispersed impressions until they find a stable verbal shape. This process has a number of benefits.
At a visceral level, it triggers a felt sense of connection that boosts confidence.
At a cognitive level, it matches an emerging situation or problem with existing archetypes, models or frameworks to learn from and build on.
From an interpersonal angle, crystallising ideas into shared language reveals alignment with diverse perspective, opening ways to build bridges, alliances, or viable compromises.
From a practical angle, greater clarity improves people’s capacity to discern the lines of tension, challenges and pitfalls in what they do, as well as articulating next steps.
Work one-on-one or with small groups is intrinsically nourishing, and how most things get done. However, it has structural limits of scale. This is in part why I balance it with a writing practice and the development of open resources, in hope that I can benefit more people indirectly. In addition, the reflective work involved in writing and designing is crucial to my own clarity: it’s a way to learn, and keep myself sane. Finally, sharing blogs, books and essays, or running occasional workshops and talks, is a great way to nurture a network of peers, giving myself and others a greater sense of meaning, hope and connection.
2 – What am I hoping to achieve?
“What should I do?
What can I do?
What do I want to do?”
My work has two core premises.
The first is that we’re living in a period of uncertain transition. This applies at the macro levels of nature, climate, technology, society, culture, politics and geopolitics. It also manifests in our relationships, identity, and day-to-day life. Depending where we turn our attention, we find a mix of apocalyptic discourse urging for rapid radical change, a vague sense of hopelessness in the face of decadent stagnation, and a healthy level of good old change-as-usual resolve. As a result, on a personal level, we’re often not quite sure what we should focus on or neglect, learn or unlearn, guard against or embrace. In short, we’re all generally confused, with a rotating side note of anxiety, despair, and eager enthusiasm.
The second is that human action can and should shape the world positively. In the face of what is generally presented and perceived as a pressing existential crisis for humanity, many of us feel the duty to ‘do something’. Sometimes, it’s only to preserve whatever patch of grass is in our custody – protect our family, friends, team, business, or country. Often, it’s in hope of engaging meaningfully with the bigger picture, even taking a chance to make things better, for our sake and for others.
In short, coherent action is both increasingly difficult, and increasingly desirable. This applies whether we’re considering the mid-term future of our countries and communities in light of the climate crisis, or the way that AI, populism, trade wars, financial constraints and resource scarcity will affect our teams, organisations and industry sectors.
The scale may be different, the stakes might seen overwhelming, but the fundamental proposition remains that of any transformation effort. We need to somehow give birth to the new while hospicing the old, and holding the transition. Meaning, we need a range of people and organisation to do different things in a somewhat coherent manner, as we negotiate this historical joint, as we did in other periods of time.
In this context, I work with people to gain greater clarity on three practical questions: in those times of hesitant transition, what should I do, what can I do, and what do I want to do? Typically, this is within the more narrow context of a project, venture, book or job – though personal aspects often play in.
Ultimately, success and ripple effects are beyond our control. However, to the extent that everything is probabilistic, giving clear answers to those questions has three benefits:
First, if we’re personally clear and collectively aligned on a goal and vision, we’re more likely to bring things to life, and less likely to cause harm by pure oversight.
Second, if we’re more able to clearly describe what we want and propose to do, we will reduce misunderstandings and all the associated waste. We can direct more of our energy to deal with genuine conflicts in aspirations and interests.
Finally, I believe that clarifying those questions is good in itself. At the soul level, so to speak, we can live more meaningful and connected lives, irrespective of outcomes.
The people I directly work with tend to share two characteristics.
First, they have a level of influence, as leaders, stewards or influencers in businesses and communities. This is in part a result of personal bias: I have more respect for those who step up and try than those who sit on the side and criticise.
Second, I mainly work with people involved in some form of change, innovation, or emergent activity. They may be founders, original thinkers, community leaders, educators, designers, or people driving change in organisations and institutions. Those people tend to be most affected by confusion, and benefit most from clarity.
3 – What are my structural constraints?
“Vulnerability,
Open-Mindedness,
Tolerance for Ambiguity,
Radical Optimism.”
The work I do comes with a few trade-offs. I discovered those over time, through trial and error, and have since embraced them as creative constraints in my theory of change.
The work demands high levels of sensitivity and vulnerability. I enter most settings without an armour, by design. I will occasionally get hurt from unexpected resistance or hostility. Nothing breaks, but I need some time to recover. I therefore need to keep slack in my schedule. Concretely, this means my workload is like Melbourne weather: overall nice, but rarely perfect, with rapid shifts.
The work demands high levels of open-mindedness, which I maintain by avoiding the mental routine attached to a standard role, stable organisation, or even embedding myself in one sector. This allows me to bring richer perspectives to my clients, but I can’t rely on shorthand. Each new project requires an effort of initial attunement.
The work demands high tolerance for ambiguity. Because I contribute clarity, I am most useful when things are unclear. This extends to the role I play. I like to say that if there’s a job description, it’s probably not for me. And the moment everyone sees the value that I bring is when I know the job is done. This means I often come to projects sideways, somewhat against the grain, and on blurry parameters.
The work requires a strong dose of optimism. In a world that is coming out of whack, I believe that bold new projects and initiatives are the best chance we have. Yet they’re also more likely to fail, whether through lack of traction, poor timing, critical oversight, or pure entropy. In part, I diversify to keep my own balance, so that I’m more able to continue supporting initiatives against the odds. Which means I cannot depend on just one person or organisation. For their sake and for mine, I must also steer clear of cynics and self-serving leaders who play each ball to win.
that’s what I’m about.
At least, in this iteration. If this resonates, there are a few ways to go deeper. You can see what I'm currently working on, including the projects and organisations I'm embedded in, on my Now page. You can read a fuller account of what I've built, advised, or supported – what worked and what didn’t – in my Project History. Or, if you'd like to work together, get in touch.