Okay, let's untack this. Have you ever felt like
you're grappling with a problem that, well, just
won't stay put? trying to nail jelly to a wall,
maybe. Or trying to solve an issue that seems
to shape the closer you get. Oh, absolutely.
That's a very familiar feeling for many people
dealing with complex challenges. Right. So today,
we're diving deep into precisely those kinds
of challenges. Our source material calls them
wicked problems. And we're looking at how we
often try to tame them, sometimes without even
realizing it. Our insights today, they're drawn
from excerpts from Transparent Temming of Wicked
Problems by Gary Ackerman, which was posted on
hackscience .education. A really interesting
piece. Yeah. And our mission today, it's to give
you a shortcut, really, to understanding what
makes these pervasive challenges so tough, why
we're tempted to simplify them, and what actually
happens when we do. What's truly fascinating
here, I think, is how instinctively we reach
for familiar tools. We try to fix problems that
are anything but familiar using old methods.
We often apply solutions designed for, let's
say, one type of problem to a completely different
kind. And understanding this core distinction,
it can profoundly impact our decision making.
Okay, so let's start right at the foundational
level then. Our source introduces these two very
different kinds of problems, tame and wicked.
What makes them so fundamentally distinct? Well,
tame problems are the ones we generally feel
comfortable with. Think of them like a well -engineered
machine, perhaps. They're definable. You can
clearly identify the cause and effect. Pretty
straightforward. OK. They're also understandable.
The methods for resolving them are known, or
they can be figured out. And crucially, they're
consensual. Reasonable people will generally
agree on the need to solve it, and importantly,
what a solution actually looks like. Right. Like
fixing a leaky faucet, maybe. Yeah. Or building
a bridge. Exactly. Or even say, fixing a specific
software bug. Those are classic examples. The
problem's clear. The path to resolution is visible,
and critically, the outcome is measurable. OK,
that makes sense. And then we have the wicked
problems, the ones that keep us up at night,
the ones genuinely testing our abilities. Precisely.
Wicked problems are, well, simply put, they're
none of the above. They are ill -defined, they're
resistant to clear -cut solutions, and they're
often intertwined with other complex issues.
What's especially tricky is that evaluating any
solution depends heavily on your specific perspective,
your view on the problem itself, and the solution
you implemented. So how I see it might be totally
different from how you see it, even if we look
at the same solution. Exactly. And to add another
layer of complexity, any solution can feel perpetually
revisable. You can always tweak it, refine it.
It makes them seem endless. Wow. Our source points
to some powerful examples, things like 21st century
education reform or tackling climate change or
widespread poverty. Huge stuff. There's no single
right answer. And every step you take fundamentally
shifts the landscape. So if we connect this to
the bigger picture, it sounds like many strategic
planning efforts, maybe especially in fields
like K -12 education, are often trying to fit
a square peg in a round hole. They're trying
to apply methods designed for those tame problems
to issues that are actually far more wicked.
Precisely. And this raises a really important
question for all of us. Are we truly using the
right tools for the job? Or are we maybe setting
ourselves up for frustration? Exactly. Or just
limited success, perhaps, because we're misidentifying
the very nature of the challenge we're facing.
OK, so if these problems are like trying to catch
smoke, I mean, how do we even begin to get a
handle on them? Our source reveals a surprising,
almost counterintuitive first step. Gary Ackerman
calls it transparent taming. That's right. Transparent
taming. It involves consciously treating wicked
problems as if they are tame. And yes, but, and
this is the absolutely crucial part doing so
in a completely transparent manner, leaders who
use this strategy, they must ensure everyone
involved understands they are making a strategic
simplification. OK. The goal isn't to pretend
the problem is tame. It's about creating temporary
solutions. Ways to make progress until the problem
can eventually be approached in a more comprehensive,
wicked way, as the source puts it. Ah, so it's
not about denying the complexity. It's more like
saying, OK, this beast is just too big right
now, so we're going to carve off a manageable
piece. Fully knowing it's just a piece, not the
whole thing. Exactly. That's a great way to phrase
it. It's a pragmatic recognition that sometimes
you just have to break down the overwhelming
into something actionable. But the transparency,
that's the key differentiator. It prevents misrepresentation
and allows for an honest assessment of these,
let's call them, provisional steps. It's a way
to gain some traction then. Yes, to make progress,
even if it's just a provisional step forward.
So why does understanding these taming strategies
actually matter? For you, the listener, whether
you're a leader, an educator, or just navigating
complex issues in life, why should you care if
a wicked problem is being tamed? Well, this ability
to spot taming in action is crucial, for several
reasons. Really practical reasons. First, it
helps you dodge hidden landmines, so to speak.
OK. If you recognize a tame approach being applied
to what is clearly a wicked problem, you're immediately
empowered to ask, OK, wait, what unintended side
effects might we be creating here? That's a huge
advantage. It is. It helps minimize adverse effects
down the road. Second, it gives you informed
choice. You can better discern if others are
genuinely trying to pursue a complete, maybe
a non -zero -sum solution or if they're actively
tamed. the problem, which means they're intentionally
designing less than optimal, perhaps partial,
approaches. So you know what kind of game is
being played. Kind of, yeah. Third, it fosters
a healthy skepticism of results. You'll be better
prepared to question things when results from
these tamed solutions are presented as definitive
proof. Like, we solved it. Right. When maybe
they just solved the simplified version. They
might show progress, sure, but it's progress
within a bounded, often artificially simplified
context. And finally, it highlights a crucial
responsibility we all have to ensure that these
taming methods don't inadvertently create new
problems. Or make the original one worse in some
unexpected way. Precisely. All because we oversimplified
things at the start. So recognizing these strategies
isn't just some, you know, academic exercise.
Not at all. It's about being more discerning,
more responsible, and more critically engaged
with the solutions we encounter, or maybe even
help implement. It's about not being fooled by
a superficial fix. That sums it up well. Okay,
so our sources mention a consultant, Jeff Conklin.
He observed that when people are faced with these
really wicked problems, planners often try to
solve them as if they were tame. Mm -hmm. A common
pattern. And he identified six core ways, six
recognizable approaches that we commonly use
to try and tame these complex beasts. I suspect
we've all probably seen these tactics in action,
maybe even used them ourselves without quite
labeling them. Oh, absolutely. Conklin's observations
really highlight these common human tendencies
when we're faced with overwhelming complexity.
When a problem just feels too big, too messy
to tackle head on, our natural inclination is
to look for ways to make it smaller. To put boundaries
around it. Exactly, to put boundaries around
it. Even if that means simplifying things quite
a bit. So what's the first tactic we often reach
for? The first one Conklin identified is locking
down the problem definition. Okay. This basically
involves reducing a vast complex wicked problem
down to a smaller, more easily definable, and
bounded one. Remember, wicked problems have many
ill -defined causes, right? But when taming through
problem lockdown, planners will often just pick
one cause, maybe assume it's the primary one,
sometimes correctly, sometimes not, and focus
all their efforts there. So boiling it down to
just one piece, maybe ignoring the wider web
of issues. If a school is facing declining student
performance across lots of areas, locking down
the problem might mean focusing solely on, say,
low scores in math and maybe ignoring systemic
issues like teacher morale or community resources
that are probably contributing to the whole picture.
Exactly. It makes the problem seem actionable,
but you risk missing the true scope, the real
underlying dynamics. OK. Now, what happens when
the pressure mounts? You know, we need to show
progress, even if the problem isn't truly solved
yet. Ah, well then we often see the second tactic,
asserting the problem is solved. Ah, that feels
like a very human response, doesn't it? Just
declare victory, even if it's partial, just to
move on. It really is. Recognizing that wicked
problem solutions are always open to interpretation,
always revisable, this tactic basically concludes
that the current, perhaps partial solution is
sufficient. Good enough. And there's a practical
reason for that. Yes, the rationale is often
quite practical. It allows planners to avoid
situations where one wicked problem just consumes
a disproportionate amount of limited resources.
Time, money, attention. Or sometimes, where failing
to implement even a partially sufficient solution
might actually make the original problem worse.
Okay. Can you give an example? Sure. Think about
implementing a new school curriculum. Maybe it
shows some improvement in test scores? Not perfect,
but some. Declaring the educational problem solved
at that point allows the school to avoid endless
revision cycles and move focus elsewhere. Even
if the solution wasn't the ultimate fix, it's
a kind of strategic exit. Right, drawing a line
under it. Okay. And sometimes we're a bit more
proactive in our taming. This next one feels
very familiar, often seems quite practical. Specify
objectives to measure success. Indeed, this one's
very common. It involved defining clear, measurable
criteria that will signal an acceptable solution
before any solution design even begins. Ah, setting
the goalposts first. Exactly. And then, crucially...
ending the effort when those conditions are met.
It's a proactive form of taming. For instance,
a school wanting to improve scores on a specific
standardized test might define an expected improvement
level, say a 5 % increase, before they start
any new programs. And once they hit that 5%.
Once that level is achieved, improvement efforts
can then shift focus to a different problem rather
than continuing to iterate indefinitely on the
original test score issue. OK. Now, I think we've
all heard someone say this when a new problem
arises. Oh, this is just like that other situation
we had. That brings us to the next taming approach.
Cast the problem as just like another. That's
a classic move, the very common heuristic. Despite
wicked problems and their solutions often being
quite unique, planners might decide that a new
problem is sufficiently similar to an old one
or one faced elsewhere. So they use a previous
solution or one from a different setting as a
model. That sounds potentially useful but risky.
Exactly. It offers the advantage of a quicker
start, right? You can implement something known
and then maybe modify it. But the risk is that
such taming might fail because of unforeseen
factors or unknown assumptions that make the
two situations actually fundamentally different.
Like taking a teacher attention solution that
worked in a wealthy suburban district and applying
it directly to an underfunded urban school district
without really considering the unique very different
challenges the urban district faces. That's a
perfect example of the potential pitfalls. OK,
this next one sounds a bit, well, defeatist,
maybe. But it's listed as a real strategy, giving
up on trying to get a good solution. It sounds
defeatist, but it's often a pragmatic response
to organizational reality. This typically occurs
when a planner realizes that key factors affecting
the problem or the potential solutions emerge
from levels within the organization where they
have absolute no control. Ah, like decisions
coming from way above. Precisely. So instead
of trying to solve the core problem itself, which
they can't influence, planners develop strategies
for accommodating the influences of those problems
on their own work. or they develop methods to
simply work around the difficulties aiming to
minimize disruption to their own team's performance.
Right. I've definitely seen that firsthand. It's
less about Solving the big storm and more about
building a sturdy umbrella for your team. That's
a good analogy. Like a department head dealing
with constant, unavoidable, seemingly arbitrary
policy changes from upper management. They might
just stop trying to fix the policies themselves
and instead develop internal team processes to
adapt quickly and shield their team from the
constant fluctuations. It's a pragmatic, if maybe
a bit resigned, coping mechanism. It's about
controlling what you can control. Makes sense.
And finally, The last one. The sixth approach
Conklin identified is framing the problem as
limited choices. This one feels like it happens
when the decision makers have already kind of
narrowed down the options before they even bring
it to a wider group. Exactly. It involves defining
several acceptable solutions up front, maybe
just two or three, and presenting those as the
only choices available. The task then becomes
deciding which one of these preselected options
is best for the particular situation. So it's
similar to specifying objectives, but the options
are imposed. Yes, similar in that the measures,
or in this case the options, are often imposed
from outside sources or by leadership. The potential
drawback, as you hinted, is that these imposed
solutions might actually be solving a slightly
different problem than the original wicked one.
Or they might miss a truly innovative solution
that could have emerged if the discussion was
broader. Correct. Think of it like presenting
a community with only three pre -selected, pre
-vetted options for new public transportation
systems. Without exploring other... potentially
more suitable or creative solutions that might
have come up from a broader, more wicked approach
that involved the community more deeply from
the start. Exactly. The frame limits the possibilities.
Looking at all six, what's the common thread
here? It really seems like in most of these taming
strategies, we're simplifying, we're bounding,
we're imposing external limits on problems that
are inherently unbounded, complex, and deeply
interconnected. We're basically forcing a fluid,
open -ended challenge into a more manageable
box. But often at a cost. Yeah. Seems like it.
That's the core insight, I think. We're making
a trade -off. We gain manageability, a sense
of control, maybe faster action. But we potentially
lose a more comprehensive understanding, or risk
missing a truly sustainable resolution, or even
create those unintended consequences we talked
about. Wow. OK, what a deep dive into how we
try, at least, to tackle these really tough problems
out there, from things like reforming education
to navigating complex organizational changes.
Understanding this fundamental difference between
tame and wicked problems and how we attempt to
manage the wicked ones, it feels incredibly insightful.
It really is. It highlights something crucial.
That the success or even the perception of success,
of a solution, often depends entirely on how
we first define the problem. And that definition,
as we've seen, is rarely universally agreed upon
when you're facing something truly wicked. Being
able to spot these caming tactics, it gives you,
the listener, a really powerful lens, a lens
to view the world, not just the solutions being
proposed, but the underlying assumptions behind
them. So what's the practical upshot here for
you listening? I guess the next time you encounter
a really complex challenge or you hear a solution
being presented with a lot of confidence, maybe
pause and ask yourself. Is this truly a tame
problem that's been definitively solved? Or is
someone, perhaps transparently, perhaps not so
transparently, taming a wicked one? And if they
are taming it, maybe for very practical reasons,
what are the implicit trade -offs being made?
What's being left out of the box? That's the
critical question to ask. And just to leave you
with something to think about. If every solution
to a wicked problem is genuinely open to interpretation,
if it depends on perspective and if it's perpetually
revisable, how might that change the way we approach
long -term planning, whether that's in schools
or businesses or even, you know, in our personal
lives? How might we learn to embrace the ongoing
nature of solving these problems rather than
always seeking that final definitive, maybe illusory
answer? A profound thought to consider. Indeed.
Thanks for joining us for this deep dive.