Photo by Dayne Topkin on Unsplash
We live in a world where the measuring stick is how vocal and loud you are. If you’re not making noise people seem to think that you aren’t doing anything.
Social media serves to blast out our everyday acts. We announce our new job on a LinkedIn post, then share our breakfast on an Instagram story. We then tweet our thoughts whenever we get the chance, not because we want to share something useful, but rather to demonstrate we have something useful to say.
Somewhere along the way, many of us have seemingly forgotten the value of discretion. If making noise is taking the big battering ram, being discreet is the subtle art of sowing the seeds in the background.
We use a hammer to hit nails into the wall. But if we only ever use a hammer, all we will ever see is a nail. Hammering a screw in usually causes more damage than good. The more delicate work of a screwdriver would be far more effective.
One thing I miss about being a civil servant is that there is a far better understanding around discretion. We knew that our work was not meant to be about getting personal headlines. After all, much of what we did would not get noticed (unless something went wrong). But deeper within the culture, there was a greater appreciation and value set upon working the system through subtle sleights of hands. Building relationships across departments and ministerial offices was what got things actually done. These sorts of approaches were far more valued skill than they were on the outside.
I would sometimes see external hires struggle. The most visible ones were the big shot directors coming in from the private sector. Their operating script was to push things through with a sense of energy and force. But in the tangled webs of the civil service, they would quickly get caught up by the complex processes and need for approvals. Some learnt to adapt. For others, it never really worked out.
Coming into the advocacy world, I feel like everything is about noise. There is such a need to justify action to colleagues and funders that it becomes a game of doing more rather than having impact. I remember writing reports around how we created so many social media posts, and how great it was. But it quickly turns into a game – just have a look at most corporate and NGO posts and it becomes obvious how boring and unengaging they are.
When I look at publications in the climate sector in Brussels, I often want to tear my hair out. Most reports are just unreadable. Often great research will go unread, wasting tens, if not hundreds of thousands of euros. This all stems from people not willing to do the softer, more discrete work. Being scared to ‘step on people’s toes’, technical experts are left to run free with incomprehensible jargon.
I always valued one-to-one discussions far more than big team meetings. It was here that you could actually get to the truth of the matter. Openness and honesty can cut through a problem like a butter through knife. Instead, what often happens is a problem drags for months upon end.
Part of the blame can be laid at the system, but equally responsibility needs to be placed upon people working within the sector. Behaviour is so often driven by ego and saviour complexes. I found it insane how everyone around me seemed to be running around like headless chickens looking for the next thing to tweet about. I often felt like an alien. I made sure to give time and space to develop relationships and understand people. But this was not the metric, even if it actually was far more effective. No, the metric was to talk about how busy you constantly were, and making out how important the work you were doing was.
I dream of a day where I can work somewhere which focusses on impact, rather than noise.