I'm reading a book of short stories by Arthur Miller, the playwright. In the introduction he explains why he sometimes wrote short stories (as opposed to plays, which he was most known for, or novels, the other 'big' literary form). Sometimes, he said, he didn't want to do the flag-waving, grandstanding egotistical work that writing plays inevitably involves. It was too tiring; he wanted to keep his head down. But also, there were moments he observed or small insights he had which were less about action (plays, after all, reveal their inner 'truths' through action, even though dialogue takes centre stage) and more about mood, tone, feeling and flavour.
He made another point, too: that as a culture we undervalue 'stories'. Stories are regarded as small and subjective. Their themes are domestic (or local) and personal, limited to single experiences. What drives a society is 'big' narratives - ideologies, economic purpose, ambition, power. We can see this all around us. Big ideas are, by definition, pretty abstract. And they're what belief is based on - vital if you're going to get millions (or merely thousands) of people to follow a particular path. The more abstract an idea, the more it hinges on devotion, because that's all we have to go on.
But belief in abstracts isn't enough. It might get us out of bed in the morning, but doesn't provide fulfillment at the end of the day. For that we need to be involved: we need to be able to do something concrete and see a result. Small, incremental actions which may not change the world but make us feel worthwhile. And that is where stories come in. Stories capture the small - they tell us what one person is 'about', or can do, or is moved by. They provide examples, they show what's possible. They allow individuals to make a connection. And the more connected we all are, the stronger we are and the more we can achieve.
Our brains work in the same way: on a macro scale, they're about having an evolutionary advantage. Our brains are what set us apart from other animals, and have made civilisation possible. On a micro scale, each of our brains is a compound of millions of neuronal connections , created and reinforced by multiple small experiences. The superstructure of our brains is remarkable in its sophistication, but without experience it can never fulfill its potential.
So it is with stories: you can't have the grand narrative without the small, individual experiences, the hopes, dreams, fears and pleasures which make up our lives every day. We can't do without stories. We don't live without stories. So let's recognise this and put stories back at centre stage - in our work, our communications, our organisations and our leadership.
08 October 2009
Is there value in stories?
I'm reading a book of short stories by Arthur Miller, the playwright. In the introduction he explains why he sometimes wrote short stories (as opposed to plays, which he was most known for, or novels, the other 'big' literary form). Sometimes, he said, he didn't want to do the flag-waving, grandstanding egotistical work that writing plays inevitably involves. It was too tiring; he wanted to keep his head down. But also, there were moments he observed or small insights he had which were less about action (plays, after all, reveal their inner 'truths' through action, even though dialogue takes centre stage) and more about mood, tone, feeling and flavour.
He made another point, too: that as a culture we undervalue 'stories'. Stories are regarded as small and subjective. Their themes are domestic (or local) and personal, limited to single experiences. What drives a society is 'big' narratives - ideologies, economic purpose, ambition, power. We can see this all around us. Big ideas are, by definition, pretty abstract. And they're what belief is based on - vital if you're going to get millions (or merely thousands) of people to follow a particular path. The more abstract an idea, the more it hinges on devotion, because that's all we have to go on.
But belief in abstracts isn't enough. It might get us out of bed in the morning, but doesn't provide fulfillment at the end of the day. For that we need to be involved: we need to be able to do something concrete and see a result. Small, incremental actions which may not change the world but make us feel worthwhile. And that is where stories come in. Stories capture the small - they tell us what one person is 'about', or can do, or is moved by. They provide examples, they show what's possible. They allow individuals to make a connection. And the more connected we all are, the stronger we are and the more we can achieve.
Our brains work in the same way: on a macro scale, they're about having an evolutionary advantage. Our brains are what set us apart from other animals, and have made civilisation possible. On a micro scale, each of our brains is a compound of millions of neuronal connections , created and reinforced by multiple small experiences. The superstructure of our brains is remarkable in its sophistication, but without experience it can never fulfill its potential.
So it is with stories: you can't have the grand narrative without the small, individual experiences, the hopes, dreams, fears and pleasures which make up our lives every day. We can't do without stories. We don't live without stories. So let's recognise this and put stories back at centre stage - in our work, our communications, our organisations and our leadership.
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