Characters in no special order include: Transocean, Haliburton, BP, Tony Haywood, Obama, Congressional Democrats, Congressional Republicans, Hillary Clinton, the new and old British Prime Ministers, the Lockerbie bomber held in Scotland, Energy Secretary Chu, Interior Secretary Salazar, Retired Coast Guard Admiral Thad Allen, among others.

I’m trying to make sense of it; and am writing about it because that’s how I do it. Here’s a bit I’ve arrived about how we moderns, hooked into our media, surf the waves of information pounding against our minds:

We choose what we seek to integrate until satisfied with our closures, we turn away, more or less content though aware of the continuous presence of more. Too much, and we are overwhelmed and feel burnt-out; too little, and we feel under-informed. Jumping in and out of a relentless event timeline, our actions are continuous— more or less engaged and attuned from time to time. Our times present us daily with a Jamesian “buzzing, blooming confusion” to parse, not only as new-born, but throughout our adult lives.  Our adaptive responses in and out are the cognitive equivalent of short-term market day trades, with the implicit personal information of experience and emotion adding its complexity.

How do you feel about all this? How do you make sense of it?

1) Globalization. Theroux’s post-Vietnam account describes a history left far behind: it occurs before the Iranian Revolution, before the Russian invasion of Afghanistan, before, before, before………. I think about where we are now, how globalization has transformed the world: all business, all the time

2) I think of the Singapore Airlines office on Orchard Road: of the hours spent there, with the throngs of others this April, waylaid in the East by a volcano in the West, waiting patiently for our numbers to appear on the digital screen– heralding appointments with the smiling functionaries who would see to the possibility of new itineraries.

3) Odd to consider: a similar dynamic to Theroux’s: the crowd, the uncertainties, but delightfully air conditioned and modernized: the sanitized foreign, with cappuccino and iced latte available outside the offices, in the luxury mall.

4) My trip? Recently completed, it took months to conclude. It began with a routing from Changi Airport to San Francisco (later changed, at the last minute, when the skies over Europe cleared….); but required that I purchase a new ticket from San Francisco, home, on the internet because my original round-trip fare had been revised to a 3/4 trip!!! I had traveled from New York to Singapore and was now, to be dropped off in California!

A few days later, the situation changed again, and my New York trip was renewed.

But: now my carrier refused to credit the canceled ticket: well, not exactly. They were willing to take a 30% deduction from it, in application to another ticket: and their customer service department could not comprehend that I’d bought the thing only because my original round trip ticket had been canceled.

Unlike Theroux’s experiences, one-to-one with the people he’d encountered, mine were by e-mails (affirmed by responsive “tracking numbers” assigned to me by the airline). There were never people to speak to: only dead-end websites to consult, e-mails to send.

The final arbiter was my credit card company: I refused to pay for the unnecessary purchase while my airline insisted that internet-purchases were non-refundable. A friend suggested that I write to the CEO of the carrier. I did– but only received response when I filed a small-claims action: a representative from the airlines traveled 2000 miles to oppose my action in New York City Small Claims Court.

After a two-minute talk, the thing was settled: I won, and received both my refund and damages; but had to agree that the airline was blameless.

Unlike Theroux, the joys of travel were not immediate: globalization followed me to internet purchases in Singapore, only resolved on Center Street in Manhattan: all air conditioned, digitized, and corporate. What feels oddly disjointed in comparison to Theroux’s 1975 trip is that a certain comfort level of corporate modernity lies over today’s business-travel; the irritations remain- such as my ticketing problem— but are resolvable anywhere and over a time-line of customer service grievance, through internet access and local legal procedures: the unique vexations of international travel, past, become just another personal transaction with a nameless, faceless, corporation.

And they were right. Consulting projects and teaching assignments claimed my attention. Until, one day, last week, it occurred to me that I’d not written in a long time and was not sure why. The problem was, how to begin again?

Tonight, I logged on. I’ve been reading Paul Valery’s reflections on European politics from the late 19th Century to  the late 1920’s; and I was struck by a quote that might have come from last week’s Financial Times about the unanticipated effects of an interconnected globalizing planet:

“Henceforward every action will be re-echoed by many unforeseen interests on all sides; it will produce a chain of immediate events- confused reverberations in a closed space. The effect of effects, which were formerly imperceptible or negligible in relation to the length of a human life and to the radius of action of any human power, are now felt almost instantly at any distance; they return immediately to their causes, and only die away in the unpredictable. The expectations of the predictor are always disappointed, and that in a matter of months or a very few years.” (Valery, 1931, Forward for “Regards sur le monde actuel”)

Sounds like something written by the Bank of England last year, on the rationality of profit maximization by individual banks resulting in the destabilization of the banking system. Or the effects of German internal politics on Greek debt; or spiking Eurolibor because banks in one country don’t trust the viability of banks in another. Or last Friday’s 300 point drop in the Dow because the 400,000 spike in US job growth was mostly in part-time census workers (more on that next time).

The wheel continues to spin faster and faster: but Valery reminds us, we’re just in a later moment of modern times.

The Working Knowledge Initiative approaches entrepreneurship under a very different mindset: that the assets and capabilities of productive work-lives represent a storehouse of entrepreneurial potential;  but that the mid-life professional is reluctant to begin the entrepreneurial journey. As a hiring manager recently told me, “given a 35 year old and a 45 year old with the same skill-set, well… let’s just say the younger guy still has that ‘fire in his belly’.”

The hiring manager’s stereotype applies to conventional entrepreneurial programs as well: its attendees begin with fire in their bellies, motivated by their desire to transform dreams to realities.  Whether experientially rich or poor, their passion is a powerful engine — motoring over adversity and pushing forward toward success.

Mid-life entrepreneurship is an entirely different situation. The excitement remains— though the physical belly-fire has morphed to a more cognitive kind of wisdom. Both success and loss over the life course ( with familial responsibilities added, as well as diminishing retirement savings….) both temper impulsivity and add their measures of anxiety.

Mid-life entrepreneurship must begin in solid refusals: NO, THIS IS NOT WHO I AM. NO, I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THE SKILLS AND PRACTICES OF NEW BUSINESS FORMATION. NO, I ONLY KNOW MY OWN FIELD. NO, I SHALL WAIT FOR A SUITABLE POSITION TO OPEN UP—EVEN IF I MUST HIDE MY FORMER JOB RESPONSIBILITES AND SALARY LEVEL TO OBTAIN IT.

Mid-life entrepreneurship begins in fear. This is the entry-point of reluctant entrepreneurship.

The Working Knowledge Initiative addresses the psychological situation of the reluctant entrepreneur while building entrepreneurial resiliency through recognitions that work-experience has provided the fundamental building blocks of entrepreneurial success.

Our mindfulness —of the reluctance of the reluctant entrepreneur—and on the needs necessary to bridge the gap between anxiety and successful revenue streams— is the Working Knowledge Initiative’s difference.

Then a fellow dog walker greeted me, his daschund greeting my terrier. He shook his head and said, “its a fundamental structural change.”

Yes, Dog walkers describing a new world. My friend is legitimately retired (old school: defined benefits and all) from a lifetime career path. His head scratching that morning was prompted by the inflationary spike in the price of gold after Australia raised its interest rate. His parting words? ” We’re becoming Japan: the dollar and Aussie in the carry trade”.

I continued on, wondering when this kind of talk had become comprehensible to me.

Talking with people still reeling from job loss, I have a profound sense of professionals’ dislocation. It takes time to consolidate a picture of that “fundamental structural change” my friend mentioned. I’m beginning to see descriptors of it in the management and psychology literature: beyond downsizing and outsourcing, and flexibility, there is now casualization (I like that: think of stone washed jeans rather than suits, if it were not for the Lunesta necessary to sleep at night); and my favorite— which comes from European arts communities: “precarization”. Precarization is new-speak for a social process that makes living feel increasingly precarious as we move from career professionals to a contingent workforce: armies of middle aged casualized dog walkers, chatting over coffee about the hours spent networking virtually rather than virtuously, attempting to massage contacts into something real— as if furiously rubbing Alladin’s lamp. Stories about insurance that doesn’t pay for lab tests or physicals; and we’re getting older.

Precarization. Yesterday, we didn’t have words for it. We couldn’t even think it.

1) The premises of WKI are unreliable, untested (by me), and might discount my view of reality. Its something new— I’d prefer the tried and true. There’s nothing really wrong, anyway. Things will get better. I’ll wait to find work.

2) If my view of workplace reality is questioned, other certainties might also become uncertain. While it is frightening, financial discomfort is better than shaking up how I see the world. Things will return to the way they were. I will find a suitable job in time.

3) While I am unemployed/underemployed, there are many like me. This satisfies both my independence and my similarity to others. Its comforting to know that others are suffering too— but without knowing too much.

4) I’m doing everything I’ve been told to do: I’ve rewritten my resume many times; I’ve sent hundreds of resumes and letters to potential jobs I’ve found on-line; I’m on Linked-In (FaceBook is a bit much!); and I’m thinking of doing some volunteer work. What more can I do?

5)The WKI requires that I inventory what I know. This might throw what I think I know into question.

6) Even if I’m certain that I know what I know, why should I trust it with someone else? Even if I’m not using it— even ever— why should they have it?

7) If I were to team up with others, how would I make sure that they wouldn’t get the better of me? Perhaps it would be better to wait to find a suitable job offering.

I’m too old and tired to try something different. There’s too much to learn. Too much to unlearn.

And one argument for:
1) Even if my view of economic reality shifts a bit, even if I have to question what I know to affirm the value of what I know, even if I have to collaborate with others to achieve an important goal, even if I have to consider that learning is continuous and lifelong—- the goals of achieving financial stability, productive interaction with others, and renewed self-esteem are worth a try. It might be fun.

We begin with trying to think through the implications of David Brooks’ critique of Obama’s healthcare intiative in the NY Times a week ago. Not surprisingly, the effect of thought across a group of 27 individuals was to generate a world of opinion. Not surprisingly, none of these lined up to describe the whole picture: but remained provocative as partial viewpoints, all somehow tangential to an indistinct focus.

Significant questions were asked: what is the nature of an incentive? who is incentivized and how? is it possible for the healthcare user to be “accountable”, given “transparency”, for thinking through the best situation for her/himself (wasn’t this what happened when in the financial sphere, defined contributions and benefits became subject to the personal choices of a fundamentally ignorant market? Think the Madoff pitch: modest, consistent returns guaranteed (the American Dream!))

But where was the central point?

‘What is the fundamental goal of democratic society’ was a top contender: is it to insure the fundamental rights of a people or the fundamental rights of its organizations? But this was too philosophical.

What galvanized the group was the nature of a healthcare right: the poorly defined “public option”: was it Socialist (= England, oddly enough (home of the limited liability corporation)) or American/”democratic”?

What became clear was that the question itself, evoked a conflicting interpretation of language: and that in the conflict, without consensus on the meaning of such ideas as socialism, democracy, human rights, etc., an immediate barrier was instantly discernable:  THE QUESTION ITSELF PROVOKED A DEFENSIVE BARRIER AGAINST OTHERS’ THINKING AS WELL AS ANY MEANINGFUL INTERACTION. DEFENSIVENESS EXTENDED ACROSS ALL POSITIONS: NO SIDE WAS ABLE TO HEAR ANOTHER.

All seemingly talking in English, the class fragmented along the lines of implicit meanings in the words they spoke. The effect? NO ONE COULD HEAR ANYONE ELSE BECAUSE THE MEANINGS OF LANGUAGE PRECLUDED ALTERNATIVE MEANINGS.

The outcome, the common denominator? That in order to be heard, it is necessary to negotiate the meanings of what we say, so we can be clearly heard.

But as investors (and yes, tattered holders of 401-k’s, up 50% from their Springtime lows), how do we?

The fly in the ointment is that securities analysts in 1500 firms are predicting 25% profit levels for S&P 500 companies during the next year which is only 10.9 times greater than the levels predicted by economists for GDP! What’s 1000 percent or so between colleagues (or disciplines)?

The problem for us kids is: How do we begin to interpret such reports either to protect what remains or to position ourselves for the upside?

Sometimes, in a productive work team, a similar process occurs as multiple members’ contributions create a full data set to be mined through group interaction. More prosaically, we periodically encounter the same experience when we approach our basement  storage lockers. As we extract elements from its containers in an attempt to open up new storage space, we both reappraise the material treasures of our past in light of our present experiences and often take away new appreciations of our own history, in retrospect.

Returning to the blog, I wondered how different loggings, taken together, might reflect aspects of Accord’s perspective that had emerged in time; but had not been clearly noted. I wondered how the examination of blogs-past in light of the present would suggest avenues of thought once embedded in other thoughts— newly emergent in clear light.

I. The First Thought Experiment:
Reviewing “On Learning How”, I recognize the essential building block of RECEPTIVITY TO LEARNING. This involves both a willingness to make new sense of the world as well as an underlying freedom or capability— often blocked by fixed internal and organizational positions — which provide the illusion of security in an uncertain and turbulent environment.

I tracked examples of recent uncertainties to other posts: For example, In “Bridging Disciplines”, I looked at the limitations we impose in thinking about the world through the authorized lenses of our professional disciplines; and suggested that only through a cross-disciplinary approach to individuals and the organizational challenges in which they find themselves are we capable both of locating the problems that must be addressed; as well as feeling our way incrementally toward solution. In this way, as consultants, we are able to creatively utilize both experience and professional methodology together with other consultants, in seeing what we had not seen before.

More focal indices of turbulence were reflected in “Happy Days R Here Again”, where I address my own position of confusion in trying to understand what kind of economic downturn we are in; in “Spinning the Wheel Faster”, I look at pseudo-rationality in relation to our economic understanding of shareholder risk and liability—again trying to puzzle out what’s going on within our economic world and how we make sense of it.

In the post immediately preceding “Spinning the Wheel”, I address millenials’ rejection of the academic and intellectual histories my generation has so assiduously followed: perhaps this was the precursor to my later thinking about intellectual silos. What I saw in this “mash-up” was two dimensional: 1) the reduction of ideas to their pure pragmatic utility; and 2) with that compression, my own recognition of the effects of the immediate present and short-term upon the action plans that follow our thoughts.

That’s enough for this blog. Where I think I’m headed here, is toward a utilitarian consulting approach to understanding direct, present experience across different psychological engagements with changing internal and external environments— from psychotherapy to organizational consultation; and the usefulness of action steps toward defining our changing psychological situations. More on that next time.