In 1969, 22 years after sailing his balsa raft 4,300 miles across the Pacific Ocean to Polynesia, explorer Thor Heyerdahl set off on a new adventure, attempting to cross the Atlantic in a papyrus reed boat modeled after ancient Egyptian drawings.
He successfully sailed from Morocco to Barbados on his second try. But his first endeavor failed because of what appeared to be a purely ornamental piece of string.
North African natives helped Heyerdahl construct his vessel, a banana-shaped boat with a tail that curved upward in a graceful curl. A taut line connected the top of the tail to the center of the boat. This was based on the ancient sketches, but it seemed to serve no purpose and bothered the natives no end. Eventually, they convinced Heyerdahl to remove it. And that proved disastrous.
Once at sea, the ocean water gradually saturated the papyrus reeds and, as they grew soggy, the tail section began to sag. The seemingly inconsequential cord was in fact designed to keep tension on the back of the boat, thereby preventing the collapse of the vessel’s stern. Without it, the boat became waterlogged and sank.
Heyerdahl replaced the line for his second try and succeeded in reaching his destination. His story provides context for this week’s entry into the Ethical Lexicon:
Chesterton’s Fence | noun
A rule of thumb that one should not change a convention or do away with any tradition without first understanding why it was originally established.
In his 1929 book The Thing, English philosopher G.K. Chesterton wrote:
“Let us say, for the sake of simplicity, a fence or gate [is] erected across a road. The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, ‘I don’t see the use of this; let us clear it away.’
To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: ‘If you don’t see the use of it, I certainly won’t let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it.’”
Why might someone have erected the fence in the first place? Maybe to keep the sheep on one side separated from the cattle on the other side. By tearing down the fence, you allow the sheep to invade and overgraze the neighboring pasture. The cattle go hungry, leaving them vulnerable to disease and killing off the herd.
You meant well. But you lacked the information you needed to make a sound decision. Even worse, you made no effort to find out what you didn’t know.
Entrepreneur Steve Blank offers the more contemporary parable of an efficiency expert eager to cut expenditures and streamline operations. His first act is to eliminate the free snacks provided for employees. After all, it’s only pocket change for each worker, but the cumulative cost to the company amounts to thousands of dollars.
The employees don’t really care about the price of the snacks, but they interpret the move as a culture shift that values profits over people. The employees become resentful, start fixating on other grievances, and eagerly jump ship to take positions that wouldn’t have seemed as attractive when they felt that leadership had their best interests at heart.
The resulting loss in talent costs exponentially more than the savings on chips, nuts, and soda.
Looking back through time, we discover that this wisdom has been around since long before G.K. Chesterton. In Proverbs, King Solomon observes: “Do not remove the boundaries of eternity that were set in place by your ancestors.” In our mad rush to innovate, enhance, and improve, we easily forget that conventions have developed over generations because, for the most part, they work.
The best rock and jazz musicians train classically to learn where and why the rules apply before they bend them. Athletes drill and drill, practice, and practice, learning the fundamentals of their sport before developing new moves or techniques. Writers study the classics, painters emulate the masters, and scientists acquire an appreciation for the work on which science is built.
As Sir Isaac Newton famously said, “If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.” Only once we understand why things are the way we are can we reasonably determine how to make them better.
The same principle applies to culture. Of course, when a workplace is undeniably toxic, swift and radical adjustments may be necessary. But when we’re looking to improve the health of a functioning enterprise, the prospect of unintended and undesirable consequences should make us highly conservative when contemplating what changes to make.
That’s why policy decisions should never be made without consultation. Soliciting employee feedback is a simple and effective barometer for gauging the impact of proposed initiatives. It requires little effort for leaders to ask their people:
- What do you like most about your work environment?
- What do you like least?
- How eager would you be to accept a job offer from a different company?
- If you could change anything, what would that be?
- How important to you is [fill in the blank]?
- What would you like management to know of which they seem unaware?
Quarterly or semiannual polls provide priceless insights for leaders to continuously improve their business culture. Armed with this information, you can be confident when you make your final decision whether to tear down Chesterton’s fence or keep it firmly in place.