I'm really glad to be able to spend this time with you, and I'm honored to have a full hour to introduce you to something that I am particularly passionate about—understanding complexity and helping others navigate uncertainty.
So, I am going to share my screen and get started with the presentation. If you can just tell me if you're able to see the screen or not...
Yeah? Okay, great.
One of the reasons why I'm really excited is that I think, you know, I've been working in this field of complexity now for many years, and in the past, sometimes I felt a little bit like Chicken Little or the little boy who cried wolf when I introduced people to this idea—that the world is complex and that there are uncertainties we actually cannot manage away or control.
But I think over the last year, most of you would agree that in 2020, we've all been given a bit of a master class in uncertainty. What's happening now is that some of our deep-seated, sometimes unconscious, beliefs are being challenged. And I can speak for myself—even though I've been working in this space for so many years, even I have felt really, really challenged by the levels of uncertainty that I'm facing now.
Decisions that in the past seemed quite simple have suddenly become so difficult to make because we don't have information that we feel we can depend on. It's as if some of the old patterns—investment patterns, for example—are just no longer the same. When I speak to my financial advisor, he would say, "We don't know what to do." Some of these thinking patterns, these stories we've come to believe over the years, are being challenged.
For example, we often assume that stability and certainty are normal, and when we experience periods of uncertainty and instability, we expect them to be temporary—an abnormal blip before we return to "normal." But now, what we're needing to learn how to deal with is that instability and uncertainty are, in fact, normal. Over the last few decades, we've been lucky to have relative stability, and now we are experiencing a shift that none of us are used to dealing with—continuous and high levels of uncertainty.
In my work, especially with decision-makers, I find that people are feeling unmoored. We are in uncharted territory together, and it feels as if we no longer have any solid ground to stand on. That's not necessarily true— not everything has changed—but the feeling itself is very anxiety-provoking.
Very often, we are continuously on a boundary between knowing and not knowing, between feeling competent and feeling incompetent. Many of us are being challenged because the things that made us successful in the past—the things that brought us to where we are now—are no longer sufficient. They're no longer working for us, and so we have to start thinking anew.
I think of Abraham Lincoln, who said, "We need to think anew and act anew." We need to unlearn a whole bunch of things, and at the same time, we need to continuously learn. This is not necessarily something we are used to doing.
In my role as a thinking partner to decision-makers, I help them navigate this uncertainty by offering new ways of looking at the world, along with tools to help them make sense of it. I really love this quote from a colleague of mine: "Those who will thrive in the future—individuals and organizations alike—are those who are able to turn anxiety into creative energy."
This is so important because, very often, when I work with executive teams, I see that when uncertainty arises, and they have to make decisions while lacking necessary information, they don't always respond with creative energy. Instead, they become paralyzed. The confusion they feel, the inability to draw on past experiences, can either lead to decision paralysis or another pattern I've observed—they hedge their bets. They avoid prioritization and refuse to choose between options because they are afraid of making a mistake.
So, this idea of turning anxiety into creative energy is something I want to focus on today. A lot of it starts with understanding that we interact with and are embedded in different kinds of systems.
Over the years, we’ve been seduced by the idea that everything around us is ordered and predictable. But today, I want to introduce you to different kinds of systems and explore their implications for us.
To do that, I'll share a bit of a story. I hope this will resonate with you.
When I was quite young, my first taste of mobility was learning to ride a bicycle. It was my first interaction with a mechanical system—a simple one. One of my parents helped me learn, and I had to figure out how to balance, how to stay on top of it, and a little bit about traffic rules to stay safe.
Later, when I got my first car, my life became more complicated. My first attempt at driving was with my father in the passenger seat, in an empty parking lot. I had to figure out how the car worked—how to pull away, change gears, and, very importantly, how to use the brakes. Even though learning to drive was complicated, life was still fairly predictable. As long as I was on quiet roads, I had experts who could help me, and I was dealing with known unknowns.
But then, one day, we ventured into traffic, and suddenly, everything changed. Now, I was confronted by multiple things I couldn’t control. I had to be aware of my environment—not just what I was doing, but also what other road users were doing. I was thrust into a world of unknown unknowns, no longer alone on an empty road but now connected to and influenced by others.
This is where complexity truly emerges—when things interact. Small changes, like one driver braking unexpectedly, can create emergent traffic jams. Small shifts in behavior create large patterns. I had an impact on the environment, and the environment had an impact on me.
In South Africa, for example, we've seen an emerging culture where traffic laws are treated as suggestions rather than rules. As more people break the rules, it becomes the norm—a cultural shift, a co-evolution.
And then, our cars became even more connected. Modern vehicles, especially in other parts of the world, are now linked to the internet. On the one hand, this allows for instant upgrades, but on the other, it introduces new risks—like hacking. Suddenly, driving is not just about me and other road users, but about my interaction with a global digital system.
This is where we truly encounter the complexity of human beings. We have intelligence, intentionality, and multiple identities that we navigate seamlessly. We are embedded in ever-larger systems, where even a small decision—like choosing to drive an electric car—can impact entire industries and global sustainability.
And this is the nature of complexity. We are interacting with multiple systems simultaneously. Complexity arises not from individual things but from the connections between them. As we become more connected, the world becomes more complex, and as it becomes more complex, it becomes more uncertain.
Understanding this changes how we manage, strategize, and make decisions. It challenges traditional notions of control, prediction, and linear planning. Instead of seeking certainty, we must cultivate curiosity, embrace diverse perspectives, and learn to adapt.
Ultimately, complexity isn’t something to fear. It’s not good or bad—it just is. And we already know how to navigate it. The challenge is not complexity itself but our outdated ways of thinking about it.
So, today, I invite you to rethink how you interact with uncertainty. Let’s explore how we can shift our mindset, learn to dance with complexity, and turn anxiety into creative energy.