How often is the first step declaring “it can’t be fixed”?
By “fixed,” I mean fixed by conventional means, working within our habits and expectations. “Fixed” by working harder, or paying more attention, or reminding ourself not to get upset by an annoying coworker.
Many times, possibly even most of the time or all of the time, the conventional means don’t work. If they did, there wouldn’t be a problem.
Declaring “it can’t be fixed” may be the first step to actually doing something differently, reframing what’s at stake and transcending the problem.
It seems no one wants to practice “problem solving.” Because of the ways our minds work, people are usually pleased to be generating ideas and crossing things off lists as “solved,” but these activities might not be the ones that require practice.
Generating an idea, coming up with what should be an obvious approach… When we are really stuck on a problem, these things are sirens, leading us onto the rocks. We may need to stop our ears so we can navigate well.
“Solving” is what we are doing when we are stuck and not giving in or giving up.
When facing a problem, we could say that we are stuck. Consider whether we ever solve a problem as it is originally formulated or perceived.
Maybe we learn a new skill and can now work our way through. But if we can work our way through, that means we are no longer stuck. If we are no longer stuck, there may still be work to do, but there isn’t a problem any more. The initial formulation of the problem hadn’t taken into account our new skill, and now that initial formulation is irrelevant.
Or maybe we find a different problem to solve than the one we faced initially. For example, instead of figuring out how to cross a flooded river, we look for a way to get all of our business done without having to cross the river. If we manage that, then we have again “solved the problem” by not solving the original problem.
When we are successful in solving a problem, maybe it’s because we have changed ourselves, changed the context, or changed the rules.
Problems are instances of being stuck. “Problem solving” is supposedly what we’re doing when we’re getting unstuck. I teach a couple of courses on problem solving, and I can guarantee that “problem solving” is something that is neither easily taught, nor easily learned. The main reason this is so has to do with how our minds work. We have a peculiar relationship with stuckness.
Things keep changing until they don’t, until they reach a sticking point. Some sticking points go away after a short time, others after a longer time, but it would be hard to find a sticking point that lasts for all eternity. The important bit is that the experience of being stuck is what comes into play when the sticking point is lasting longer than we want it to.
Once we are unstuck (if we are so fortunate), we look back at the time when we were stuck, but we are probably unable to appreciate just how strongly stuck we felt at the time. Hindsight just doesn’t seem to help us. The next time we feel stuck, we may say to ourselves, “Ha! I’ve been stuck before, and things loosened up, and I moved forward.” That may provide some comfort for a few minutes. But when the sticking point du jour lasts longer than we want it to, and we experience stuckness again, our words to ourselves provide no real comfort. The experience may come at a different point in the course of the developing situation, thanks to our ability to learn, but once we reaching the sticking point that goes on too long, the experience can be as hard as it was last time.
“Problem solving” can’t really be practiced on things that aren’t problems, that aren’t sticking points. The exercises are too easy, and they won’t be easy to apply in the thick of it, when we are really stuck and have been for too long.
But it can be discouraging to try to practice “problem solving” on actual problems, because actual problems are where we are truly stuck, where the sticking point has already gone on longer than we want. Do you think we would still be at a sticking point like this, if it were actually easy or straightforward to get moving again?
Photo: atomicjeep
Little problems sometimes merit treatment with big-time tools. The problem solving methodology I teach, TRIZ, is most commonly used to solve mind-bending (and sometimes multi-million-dollar) engineering design problems, but it can also be a good companion when addressing non-technical problems.
Here’s an example:
In order to make progress when working on a project, it’s important to focus on details, to not get distracted by philosophical or high-level questions. But if I were unaware of the relevant contexts, the higher-level questions (including “why?”), the strategic issues, and the ethical/moral issues, it would be too easy to be digging a hole in the wrong place, digging the wrong depth of hole, or even digging a hole when I should be doing something else entirely.
TRIZ suggests I formulate this conundrum as what’s called a physical contradiction: “I should be narrowly focused” and “I should not be narrowly focused.”
Then TRIZ suggests applying what are called separation principles. Two separation principles that work in this case are separation in space and separation in time.
Separation in space might lead me to focus on the details of the problem whenever I’m seated in my task chair, at my desk, working on my computer…while avoiding detail focus whenever I’m not physically in that context.
Separation in time would hint that I might try setting a timer: 40 minutes of focus, then 10 minutes of break and 10 minutes of higher level thinking and reflecting.
Clearly, these are only two possible solutions. And the tools available through TRIZ are massive, towering over such a simple, little problem. But anything that can burst me out of an “either/or” mindset into the open landscape of “both/and” possibilities is worth drawing on.