Restoring the equilibrium of knowledge

Why we need to rely on one another as much as we rely on scientific knowledge.

Our obsession with growth is fuelled by an outdated mindset that is no longer compatible with humanity. As the cracks have started to show in the systems we live off of, we must learn to remember an alternative breed of knowledge that is much more humane — mētis. Only when we are able to balance the two forms of knowledge, then we can be on a path towards sustainable and purposeful growth.

In Greek, the word mētis means a combination of wisdom and cunning, a “type” of knowledge that is gained through experiencing the varied textures of life. It was the dominant form of knowledge that was passed down between generations so parents can arm their offsprings with the experiences they have had. Mētis is also predominantly experiential and cultural. Jiro Ono’s ability to deliver an omakase experience to his guests is one modern example of mētis — his ability is gained through his decades of experience as a chef, and his knowledge of his ingredients is steeped in regional traditions. In the early eras of civilization, mētis was almost always the sole form of knowledge for commoners — where sapiens thrived by the passing on knowledge gained from their experience from generation to generation. Consider the sophisticated use of herbal medicine, or stories passed on between villages to help each other survive through the harshness of nature. This “pool” of knowledge over time became cultural traditions that helped different tribes survive through conflicts and revolutions.

As human understanding grew, sapiens began their pursuit of other forms of knowledge. While mētis is local, scientific knowledge is thought to be universal. Sapiens sought to understand how the world works in all its intricacies and granularities. As mankind’s scientific understanding of the world grew, traditions people held onto were called into question, and sometimes thoughtlessly thrown out because it didn’t fit the mold of progress. Consider farmers and farming communities who insists on living off of their own farm land, against the perceived “economical” notion that you must maximize the output potential of the land so you can gain the greatest return on your harvest. Those that held on to these traditions, despite their good intentions, were largely considered to be an enemies of progress and the future. This tension between traditional knowledge and scientific knowledge finally came to a climax in mankind’s progress in the industrial revolution.

The gospel of industrialization

With the advent of the mechanical tools to support the production of goods — faster, cheaper and more efficient than ever before, mankind’s optimism for the future was opened like a flood gate. The limitless possibilities, coupled with an unrestrained obsession with technological progress, led to the gospel of industrialization. The western society wholeheartedly preached this gospel to rally people towards a wealthier and more peaceful future. With the standard of livability in the industrial era, people bought into this belief and jumped onboard towards the promise of an industrialized society — where everyone is able to have a job, have more for themselves and more for their families. But what was sorely missing in this gospel, is that mankind survives not on possessions alone, but also on the fulfillment of deeply intrinsic motivations and healthy relationships. As the world progressed towards this seemingly more hopeful future, the quality of life have predictably increased. But as the quality of life increased, the quality of work for the average worker decreased to be more monotonous. As we trace this gospel of industrialization from the factory, to the modern organization, we begin to see the same ideology that applies to machines and workers, do not translate well to the human mind.

Progress through standardization

One of the core principles that propelled the industrial revolution forward was standardization through the division of labour. Drawing from how machines work, the process of manually assembling a product is trimmed down to the most essentials steps and all workers are then required to take the exact same set of steps repetitively. With a fully standardized process, factory managers are able to tightly control the output of their factories and maximize the efficiency of their workforce. For the previous decades, this model was effective in producing more goods at scale for our society, but manufacturing’s significance declined as the service economy emerged. Despite this decline, the methodologies and beliefs behind manufacturing remained core tenants of business. These methodologies have largely been transplanted directly into the delivery of services and experiences, treating workers less as human beings, but as cogs, levers and dials that can be tweaked to adjust the outputs. As people ceased to be assemblers of products, but the deliverers of a service, the same attitude towards machine is becoming less compatible with the human mind.

The incompatibility between the mind and the machine

Unlike the manufacturing process, the service delivery process is much less mechanical and much more fluid. Services are delivered over time, through different mediums and the human being is often a central component in the orchestration of how a service works. In place of blindly following a set of procedures, knowledge and adaptability trumps standardization in complex situations involving multifaceted problems concerning people, technology and policies. As people engage in these knowledge and service work, standardization in its rigidity may be counterintuitive in producing sustainable results — both for the organization financially and for the workers professionally. Rather than going down the path of standardization, I believe we must consider the ongoing enrichment of the worker as a human being — their mind, lifestyle and habits. Knowledge work demands the output of the mind, and not the hands. As such, what needs to be “tweaked” is the mind. The mind, though often crudely compared to a machine, is far from a machine. To tweak the mind, as if it is a mechanical device risks over-developing certain patterns of behavior, while suppressing other critical ones. When a factory worker leaves his workplace, he leaves his work at the factory. But because the service worker utilizes his mind to carry out the delivery of his work, he cannot simply leave his mind at work. The worker will carry the same patterns of behavior from work to other areas of his life. While certain behavior translates, many others do not, especially ones that resemble the rigidity of mechanical work. To develop the human mind as if it is a machine, risks creating an imbalance of behavioral patterns. It is perhaps not a coincidence that mental health, relationship and even family problems are much more prevalent in “high performing” organizations that demand results at the cost of the human mind.

As if the antiquated rigidity of standardization isn’t enough, service workers must also manage the looming automation of their work. With advances in machine learning, artificial intelligence and an overly optimistic technology industry, automation may happen faster than we anticipated. Akin to the gospel of industrialization, the gospel of automation once again promises a wealthier and more fulfilling future, where people can once again have more things while doing less. But just as industrialization overlooked the wellbeing of workers that carried out standardization, the gospel of automation may run the risk of overlooking something else. When knowledge work eventually become partially automated, workers that have succumbed to the rigid paradigm of standardization may not be able to find other types of work that can take care of and fulfill them.

In the face of automation, and the potential reduction of work, we may need to return to mētis as a way to further develop our minds to ensure we will be able to do fulfilling and sustainable work, not only for ourselves but for each other.

An alternative form of knowledge

The merit of mētis hinges on a few principles:

1. A focus on acquiring a wide array of skills to respond to changing environments.
2. An emphasis on democratizing understanding and know-how
3. A focus on people — not as a generalized species, but as a mosaic of people, cities and communities.

A focus on an array of skills

In the industrial mode of work, every worker and every machine has a specialized role in the assembly of products. Each worker is trained to do a very specific job, and workers are grouped into departments based on their roles. As such, organizations are made up of departments with very specialized functions. Although this organizing people by specialized skillset enabled better control internally, workers soon became pigeonholed into very specific skillset that crippled them from tackling the complexities in business or in life. We now face this challenge as autonomous trucks will very soon render the truck driver profession irrelevant. Mētis, on the other hand, emphasizes an assortment of skills to prepare a person for understanding as opposed to a narrow mode of production. By gaining a wider understanding of how a variety of things work, and specialize as necessary, people can then be much more capable of adapting to new environments with greater complexity.

Democratizing understanding and know-how

Although Taylorism championed harmony between managers and workers, the industrial mode of work chose to focus solely on efficiency as opposed to organizational understanding. As such, workers are often left out of decisions that impact their work. Workers are treated as assets with a defined place in the assembly line, as opposed to capable people with an innate ability to solve complex problems. In places that favor mētis knowledge, people are much more concerned with not only establishing an understanding of how things work, but also how that understanding can be passed on to others. Consider Rem Koolhaas of OMA who passed on his knowledge to an entire generation of architects — Bjarke Ingels, the late Zaha Hadid and MVRDV. Arguably, these architects went on to have even greater influence than Rem in shaping the modern architectural landscape of metropolises around the world. Mētis is much less concerned with rigid procedures, and much more about letting knowledge and know-how adapt and change so that people are prepared for the different facets of life, as opposed to the singular purpose of production.

A focus on people

Mankind as a species, although biologically similar, is incredibly diverse culturally. From traditions, to food, survival skills and technology, every culture has adapted in their own unique ways to thrive. Generalizing our species in a single sweep is to reduce human being as a specimen, or more crudely, a variable. One of the failures of extreme industrialization is treating people not as beings, but as a variable in the equation of production. Workers are recognized not by who they are as beings, but as their ability to output work. When people’s worth is reduced to their ability to follow a set of protocols, they may work themselves out of their humanity and into the very machines they assemble. Although the modern world may pride itself in scientific breakthroughs, it almost always forgets that no amount of breakthrough is valuable if there is no one to reap its benefits. Although mētis did not produce the radicalness that wowed the world in the past, what it did excel in was an intense focus on community and people. The purpose of mētis knowledge isn’t to just build more things faster, better and cheaper, but to care for one another more effectively, and help others help others. UK’s Government Digital Services is a prime example of a radical focus on people. In the political landscape, politicians and different bodies of government fight against each other for more budget, greater control and deeper influence. Instead of joining that norm, the GDS group sought to “help departments work together to transform government and meet user needs.” In some literature, GDS is known for their effective processes and methods, but underpinning all of those things is a deep focus on connecting and helping people.

Why does any of this matter?

With those 3 principles in mind, it’s perhaps easy to think mētis is a superior form of knowledge compared to scientific knowledge, but that isn’t the point I’m trying to make. Scientific knowledge has brought humanity forward in the last 100+ years and has helped humanity live far longer. Much of our modern civilization can be credited to science’s role in advancing our species. But as science moved our species forward, it has also pulled our nations, cultures, cities and people further apart from each other. The point I am trying to make is that it’s not that one type of knowledge is better than the other, but it is that we need to return to an equilibrium — where scientific knowledge and mētis knowledge is utilized thoughtfully in tandem. Rather than having a blind faith in one type of knowledge as if it is the universal truth, it is more important than ever to open our minds to strike a balance between understanding and knowledge, people and progress, and perhaps in a cliche kind of way, hearts and minds.

Everywhere people ask: “What can I actually do?” The answer is as simple as it is disconcerting: we can, each of us, work to put our own inner house in order. The guidance we need for this work cannot be found in science or technology, the value of which utterly depends on the ends they serve; but it can still be found in the traditional wisdom of mankind.

- E. F. Schumacher, Small is Beautiful: Economics as if People Mattered