Rumsfeld: An American Disaster
Andrew Cockburn, Verso Books 2007
Back in 1971, Donald Rumsfeld was described
by Richard Nixon, never a man short of a pithy epithet, as “a ruthless little
bastard”, according to Andrew Cockburn. The former secretary of state for
defense is famous in another way too: for confusing the world’s chattering
classes with his solemn pronouncements on Unknown Unknowns. Some supposed him
to be merely babbling; the more cynical imagined him to be intending to impress
and confuse.
Many
years ago, I heard a lecture at a
1.
First, he jumps behind the wheel – whether it is his father’s car, or a
stolen wagon, history does not relate – and overconfidently roars up the road
to a crashing finale. He is unconscious of his ignorance of all matters
vehicular.
2.
Then, sadder and a little wiser (broken collarbones do take some weeks
to heal), he tries again, a little more carefully. This time, he manages to get
around a couple of corners, and to stop with a squealing of brakes before the
journey comes to an end – whether through the good offices of a police patrol,
or because it’s the turn of the next member of his gang, you may decide. At any
rate, he is becoming conscious of his own lack of knowledge.
3.
His parents having become aware of the need for, shall we say, more
formal driving tuition, the boy now finds himself in the driving seat of a car
with dual controls, beside an instructor. The car is embarrassingly
under-powered, and decorated with large red L-plates on every surface. The boy
now steps gingerly through mirror-signal-manoeuvre and “line up the middle of
the rear window with the kerb when reversing”. He is consciously acquiring the
rudiments of driving.
4.
Finally, we see him seated happily behind the wheel of a small car, a
pretty girl in the passenger seat, and some lively music on the car’s
cheap-and-cheerful tape player. He is chatting in a relaxed way to his
companion. He is unconsciously skilful in his handling of the car.
Ah… unknown
unknowns, known unknowns, known knowns, and finally unknown knowns: it does
make some kind of sense, Rumsfeld or no. What is interesting about the learning
process that this epistemology implies is that the highest level involves a
return to unconscious behaviour, but this time it contains the necessary
knowledge.
Biologists
have an explanation for this surprising point of view: programs or scripts of
skilled and practised movements are recorded in the cerebellum, and retrieved
effortlessly, faster than they can be described or even thought. That speed is
necessary for skilfully co-ordinated movements of many muscles. Any traditional
craft, indeed any practised movement like picking up a glass, involves a great
many subtle operations performed smoothly and at speed – as robotics engineers
have discovered the hard way.
Toumani Diabaté, Kora Master
There is
a wonderful recording called In the Heart
of the Moon that exemplifies precisely the end point of this process. Two musicians, both from
They sit down together; Ali plays the first
few notes of a melody, and Toumani, with nothing more than a grunted call of
synchronization, starts to improvise a beautiful accompaniment and
ornamentation. Toumani’s fingers dance all over the Kora at a speed that is
dazzling, luminous. Ali shows that the guitar can be relaxed, mellow, exactly
in harmony with a traditional instrument and style of play. Between the two of
them, they create just the musical dialogue that they intend, seemingly without
effort. One can only wonder how many thousands of hours of practice and
observation were needed to reach such a peak of creative ability.
The
highest knowledge is not theoretical head-stuff, but useful practical skill,
perfectly relating a situation to the actions it demands. The theory of
motoring should inform practice, but it is practice – safe motoring – that puts
theory to the test. It is actual driving which is the fruit of all the study of
the Highway Code. The academic certainties – the known knowns – are subservient
to skill.
If your
organisation thinks it knows best, and is contemptuous of ideas, methods and
techniques developed outside, whether by industry or in academia, then you are
at stage 1: overconfident youth who thinks he knows it all; unconscious
ignorance.
If your
organisation is still experiencing projects that squeal to a halt, fortunately
just short of disaster; or if your colleagues admit they enjoy fire-fighting
(rather than completing projects smoothly) you are at stage 2: boy racer
getting the rough feel of the car.
If your
organisation is carefully putting CMM-compliant processes into place, you are
at stage 3, conscious knowledge: or L-plates, to put it more plainly.
And if
you are lucky enough to witness a group of engineers quietly getting on with
their work, each doing just what is necessary, without endless discussions
about process or status meetings or management-speak, enjoy your good fortune.
You are watching a skilled team operating, seemingly effortlessly, at stage 4:
masters of every technique in their craft, including teamwork.
© Ian Alexander 2007