Where things get weird
Peter Schwartz is a futurist who is known for scenario planning. When making complex decisions, he advises us to tell three stories:
One story where things get better.
One story where things get worse.
One story where things get weird.
What's really fascinating is the third story. And I really love it.
It allows us to think outside of the box and to imagine scenarios outside our normal scope of operations. Scenarios that don't come intuitively. This framing can also reveal outcomes we may not know exist because we have blinders on.
When I try to define my own story of where things get better, I search for expectations and metrics that were already in my purview, ones that would satisfy my existing long-term goals, projects, and achievements. "Better" means that I would attain more of these metrics or satisfy more of these expectations. And the story where things get worse is simply the opposite: not achieving metrics or not satisfying expectations.
For example, one metric for me is conducting orchestras and symphonic programs. The story I'd tell myself is that if I conducted more orchestras in symphonic programs, things were getting better. If those opportunities dwindled, things were getting worse. I haven't conducted a symphonic program in years and I don't see it happening anytime soon, so according to myself, I'm living the story where things are getting worse.
I realize that these "better" and "worse" stories make my life so one-dimensional. I'm only operating on one track with these seemingly clear definitions. I end up focusing on limited metrics because that's all I can see. It makes me have expectations and expect to have control over those expectations. When I have that control, things get better. When I don't, things get worse.
It's so easy to fall into the trap of relying on those easy, black-and-white definitions, yet the world is complex and multi-dimensional.
And when I imagine a story where things get weird, I suddenly see things in color. I let go of the need to control based on one or two arbitrary metrics. Weird can't be defined easily or clearly. I stop seeing my long-time goals as the only goals I can have. I feel I'm given permission to be more observant to the nuances of life and notice what it throws at me in "weird" ways.
I immediately identified opera as one of my stories where things get weird. I realize that I never saw opera as a possible metric to determine how things are going with my life. I completely neglected it because it is not part of my "better" and "worse" narratives.
Having the third option of a story legitimizes the weird. I learned that weird is a viable option, and it benefits me to give that story more weight and consideration.
I wonder: what would the "weird" story be for arts organizations? How can it help us see beyond our limited metrics of "better" and worse"?
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