Welcome to the deep dive. You know, we all live
and breathe this idea of continuous improvement,
don't we? Especially in our professional lives.
We're always striving for more efficiency, for
progress, for that feeling that we're actually
moving forward. But, well, despite all those
good intentions, how often do we find ourselves
kind of spinning our wheels? Investing time,
energy into tasks that feel really important,
but then they don't quite move the needle on
our actual goals. It's frustrating and confusing
sometimes. So today, we're going to try and dissect
why that happens. We're focusing on what Gary
Ackerman, in our really insightful piece on hackscience
.education, calls red herrings, our mission in
this deep dive, to really unpack what these deceptive
distractions actually are, how they quietly derail
even solid improvement efforts, and what concrete
lessons we can pull from a specific, very vivid
example he uses from education. The goal, really,
is to help you identify and avoid them, whether
you're leading a team, managing a project, or
Frankly, just trying to optimize your own work.
So as we get into this, maybe think about those
times you felt busy, but not really productive.
This deep dive should offer a new lens on that,
and crucially, how to navigate past it. Now,
Ackerman doesn't really spend time defining continuous
improvement from the ground up, and neither will
we. We know what it is, right? It's about learning,
adapting, refining. It's baked into everything.
Agile, lean, feedback loops, strategic plans.
It's everywhere. Leaders, teams. They're constantly
looking for ways to make systems more efficient,
more effective. The core idea, as Ackerman points
out, is pretty straightforward. Actions that
genuinely boost efficiency and effectiveness.
Keep doing them. Build on them. Actions that
drag things down while you abandon or change
them. It's sort of the basic expectation we have
for any organization trying to get better. Yeah,
and what's really compelling here, I think, is
how this fundamental drive, this almost instinctual
push towards getting better, can still get so
easily sidetracked. It's usually not about a
lack of commitment to improvement itself. It's
more about misdirection within that commitment.
Misdirection. Exactly. We expect leaders to guide
us towards efficiency, right? But even the most
well -meaning initiatives can accidentally create
these detours. Ackerman's piece really helps
us zero in on how those detours happen, even
when we think we're following good improvement
frameworks. It's about spotting those subtle
ways things get sabotaged, even when everyone's
genuinely trying to do the right thing. And that's
precisely where Ackerman brings in this idea
of the red herring. And it's not just a random
distraction. He describes it as something more
insidious. It's where a leader focuses on relevant
aspects of the task. And that's key. It looks
totally legitimate. Right. It seems connected.
Exactly. But in doing that, they inadvertently
channel precious resources, time, energy, even
people's mental focus towards actions that will
ultimately have zeal effect on the desired outcomes.
It's just a colossal waste, not just resources,
but you know, trust, potential. And that really
nails the subtle danger, doesn't it? It's rarely
born out of malice, like you said. More often,
it's this misdirection of focus. The process,
or maybe the tool, becomes the objective, not
the result it was supposed to achieve. Ah, right,
like focusing on the tool itself. Yeah, think
of it like building this absolutely beautiful,
perfect scaffold. instead of the actual building.
OK. The scaffold isn't necessary, sure. But if
you spend all your time and resources perfecting
the scaffold and the building itself never goes
up, that effort was a red herring. That makes
sense. And we see these constantly, don't we?
Initiatives that generate loads of activity,
tons of busy work, meetings, reports. Oh, yeah.
But they don't actually shift the core problem.
It's about telling the difference between just
motion and actual progress. So to really bring
this to life, Ackerman shares this incredibly
compelling, almost cinematic example from education.
Picture this. A meeting room. Maybe some lukewarm
coffee, right? A new curriculum director, all
set to launch a brand new curriculum mapping
initiative. You can almost feel that sort of
collective, hopeful anticipation. Teachers, always
eager to help students do better, ready to dive
in. The standard setup. Right. But here's where
it takes a sharp turn. Instead of talking about,
say, how to support struggling students or innovative
teaching methods, the teachers found themselves
spending a full, mind -numbing 30 minutes. 30
minutes? 30 minutes just discussing the templates
they were supposed to use, just the template.
They were asking how these new forms were different
from the ones they just finished under the previous
coordinator. You could feel the frustration.
They were wondering why they had to duplicate
the same information on multiple documents. Oh,
the old chestnut. Yeah, exactly. out where to
slot in outcomes they'd spent ages defining just
two years before. To them these new maps just
felt like reshuffling what they already had,
but with new kind of ill -defined bits added.
In Ackerman, watching this unfold, his immediate
conclusion was sharp. The curriculum templates
were a red herring. Plain and simple. What's
so insightful there is how fast the means just
completely overshadowed the end. The template,
which is just a tool for organizing information,
right? It became the entire focus of the conversation.
Yeah, the tool took over. Totally. The discussion
just spiraled into the mechanics of documentation.
It completely bypassed any talk about the actual
impact on student learning or teaching practice.
And this is where Ackerman's own experience really
has weighed, I think. He's not just some outside.
Observer. He explicitly says he's written many
curriculum documents over 30 years. He's led
initiatives to redefine them. And importantly,
he's used plenty of useless ones. Right. He knows
the territory. He knows it inside out. So his
perspective confirms it. Those templates. Just
a procedural distraction, not a real path to
improvement. Which brings us right to that critical
distinction. What was the real work needing to
be done versus what became this overwhelming
distraction? Ackerman points out that while the
teachers were stuck arguing about templates,
their deepest professional drive, their actual
need, was to focus on the heart of teaching.
He reminds us, teaching is about relationships
between students and teachers. It's about the
experiences teachers plan and students' participation
in the planned experiences. The core stuff. Exactly.
Curriculum documents, he says, yeah, they're
a part of those plans, but they can often be
red herrings. What he actually saw was the teachers'
desperate need to think about their students.
They weren't just vaguely worried. He specifically
recalled them mentioning one of those classes,
you know, the kind with a disproportionate number
of students facing academic, social, and other
challenges. Right, the real tough classroom realities.
You could sense, he said, their absolute burning
desire to brainstorm practical improvements.
For their classrooms, their schedules, their
daily lessons. all aimed at helping those specific
kids succeed. Their focus was laser sharp on
the learners, a complete contrast to the paperwork
parade they were being forced into. And that
just raises such a fundamental question, doesn't
it, for all of us? How often do we or our organizations
get so tangled up in the administrative process,
in the documentation, the how of tracking things,
that we completely lose sight of the core mission?
It happens all the time. It's a stark disconnect
here. You've got teachers on the front lines
facing real urgent problems in their classrooms,
basically begging to talk about solutions that
would directly affect their students. Yet all
their energy gets channeled into this discussion
about formatting and template versions. It's
like the classic example of confusing activity
with actual meaningful progress. Activity versus
progress. That's good. The teacher's urgent need
for student -focused improvement was just being
completely sidelined by what the curriculum coordinator
was defining as work. And, okay, so when Ackerman
directly questioned the coordinator about this
dynamic, what happened? The coordinator's response
was apparently unwavering, almost authoritative.
They said, once we document the curriculum, the
ways we can help our needy students will become
clear. Wow. Okay. If we connect that to the bigger
picture. That statement reflects such a deeply
ingrained, yet often really flawed organizational
belief. It's the misconception that comprehensive
documentation, just by existing, somehow solves
problems or magically creates clarity. Right,
as if filling out the form is the solution. Exactly.
It treats the documentation not as a tool, but
as the end goal itself. And Ackerman's immediate
internal reaction to that idea, he says it was
a firm, unambiguous no. No, it will not. Huh,
just a flap. No. A flat, no. And he's absolutely
right, isn't he? The act of documenting, sure,
it might help create a framework, it has its
place, but it does not inherently create a pathway
for actually helping students. In fact, as we
just saw in that example, it can actively delay
things, distract from the real work, and even
just deplete the energy needed for the direct
hands -on effort required to tackle those root
problems. Yeah, it drains the energy for the
real work. It really challenges us to ask critically.
Is this solution we're proposing genuinely addressing
the core issue, or is it just adding another
layer of activity that feels productive, but
ultimately offers no measurable impact? So, okay,
let's bring this home. What does this all mean
for you listening right now? This education example,
it's specific, yeah, but it's like a universal
mirror, isn't it? How can you recognize when
you're getting caught up in a red herring? That
process, that task, that initiative that just
eats up bandwidth, but isn't directly contributing
to your main objective. Maybe here's a quick
mental check. We could call it the 3D test, maybe,
to help spot them. OK, I like that. 3Ds. First
D, ask yourself, is this task or activity directly
impacting the outcome I'm aiming for? Is there
a clear straight line from this action to the
goal? Or is it? Sort of tangential. Hmm. Direct
link. Got it. Second D is its impact demonstrable
or measurable. Can I actually see tangible evidence
that this action is making a difference or am
I just assuming it is because it feels like work?
Demonstrable. Okay. Not just assumed value. And
the third D, is this definitely the most efficient,
the most impactful way to get to that outcome
or are there more direct routes we're overlooking
maybe because we prefer the comfort of a familiar
procedure? Directly. Demonstrably. Definitely.
That's quite useful. Yeah, it's really about
developing that critical eye, isn't it? That
kind of healthy skepticism. To question the why
behind tasks and initiatives all the time, are
they truly moving us towards greater efficiency,
real effectiveness, or are they just generating
more work? More templates, more meetings about
the templates, more reports on the templates?
Right, without genuinely shifting the outcome.
Exactly. You've got to constantly ask yourself,
am I actually building the house here? Or am
I just meticulously organizing the blueprints
in a fancy new folder, convincing myself that
perfect organization is the same as building?
That's a great analogy. That internal tension
you feel sometimes. That nagging sense of, I'm
busy, but am I actually getting anything done?
That's often your internal radar picking up a
potential red herring. It's about channeling
that discomfort into strategic questioning. What
if, instead of just asking how to fill out the
new template, you asked, how exactly does this
document directly improve student learning? Or
in another context, how does this improve customer
satisfaction? Or how does this speed up delivery?
Precisely. Or asking, what actual problem does
this new process solve that our previous one
didn't? Force the connection to the real outcome.
That's such a crucial distinction, asking how
versus asking why and what for. And it also ties
into empowering teams, doesn't it? To feel safe
enough to push back constructively. Those teachers
in Ackerman's story, they clearly knew what the
real issues were. But the system, the structure
of that meeting, didn't give them the space to
address them. That's a huge point. So as a leader,
maybe part of the job is cultivating an environment
where people can say, hang on, this feels like
we're spending an awful lot of time polishing
the scaffold here, and maybe less time on the
actual building. Can we pause and reevaluate?
Exactly. And sometimes these red herrings persist
because, well, challenging them feels like you're
challenging authority. Or maybe the process itself
provides a comforting sense of control or tangible
activity, even if it's completely misdirected.
Yeah, ticking boxes feels productive. It can
be much easier, frankly, to implement a new documentation
system than it is to grapple with really complex
student issues or market changes or whatever
the core challenge is. So as you spot these potential
red herrings, it's also worth considering the
underlying reasons they exist. Is it? maybe a
fear of tackling the harder problem? Is it pressure
to just show activity rather than results? Or
is it a genuine but simply misguided belief that
more process automatically equals more progress?
Understanding that root cause. Yeah, that could
help dismantle the red herring more effectively.
Definitely. So the key lesson from Gary Ackerman's
piece, really, it boils down to the... The transformative
power of just recognizing these red herrings
in the first place is how we start to reclaim
our most valuable resources, our time, our energy,
our team's creativity, and actually point them
towards what truly matters for continuous improvement,
instead of just letting them drain away on things
that are well -intentioned, maybe, but ultimately
fruitless. Well said. And maybe this leaves us
with a final provocative thought for you to chew
on after this deep dive wraps up. How many of
our current efficiency measures or improvement
initiatives across all kinds of fields are actually
just well -intentioned red herrings? How many
are inadvertently diverting our most valuable
resources that precious time energy focus away
from the true impactful goals we're really trying
to achieve? It's a question worth asking. regularly
of yourself and maybe of your team too. A very
important question indeed. Thank you for joining
us on this deep dive into navigating the often
tricky world of red herrings. We really hope
these insights not only help you spot them in
your own work but also empower you to steer your
efforts and maybe your team's efforts towards
genuine meaningful progress.