“You go to hell and I go to Texas” — Stories as beacons and campfires
Stephen Denning is a lawyer. And unfortunately, this is not the best prerequisite for the special task assigned to him by his employer, the World Bank, in 1996. After successful years as Director of Africa Business, Denning was promoted. And was asked to take care of the knowledge management of the international development aid organisation with the aim to collect and organize the World Bank’s knowledge and experience. As an experienced manager, Denning did what most would do in such a situation: He designed a PowerPoint presentation. In it, he gave an overview of the benefits and added value of systematic knowledge management. He calculated the loss of value that the World Bank suffer through the continuous loss of employees and knowledge and developed a proposed solution: a knowledge database which would be available to all employees on the intranet. A large number of topics will be sorted by clever IT and keywords and accessible to employees at all World Bank locations worldwide
Denning gave the presentation many times. And he always achieved the same result. His audience agreed with all facts and thanked him with a well-meaning nod for the proposal. But as soon as the audience — management and colleagues — had left the presentation room, nothing happened. The database that Denning built up was hardly used, the topic quickly slipped off the agenda and was forgotten.
Suddenly in Zambia
The audience’s reaction changed abruptly when Denning threw away his PowerPoint presentation. Instead he told the following story: In June 1995 Stephen had been travelling to Zambia. In a small village, 600 miles from the capital, he met one of the many volunteering health advisors. Health education is one of the most important issues in this region. Denning had to watch as the man desperately and in vain searched the Internet for information he needed to fight malaria. Denning knew that the World Bank had such information. However, the local volunteer did not recognize the World Bank as a source of such information, nor would he have found this information on the World Bank’s website at that time.Denning ended his true story with an appeal to the audience: Wouldn’t it be fantastic if the World Bank could provide unbureaucratic support on the ground with its knowledge? Wouldn’t it be much more helpful if it were not known only as a financier, but above all as a knowledge organization?
From Denning’s point of view, something amazing happened: The little anecdote from Zambia convinced the World Bank managers more than all the PowerPoint charts and statistics he had presented so far. And it was the beginning of a long-term process of change. Denning transformed the World Bank into a storytelling organization. Instead of creating a database, he professionalized the principle of storytelling within the organization, promoted the exchange of information and experience through stories, and at the same time turned the organization’s self-image inside out. From then on, the World Bank no longer saw itself solely as a financial institution, but increasingly as a knowledge carrier, whose knowledge was at least as valuable to the World Bank’s clients as its loans and financial expertise.
With his story from Zambia, Stephen Denning had triggered three decisive effects in his audience that also fascinate psychologists so much about storytelling:
1. Comparison of experiences: Most of Denning’s colleagues who heard the story knew the situation of being somewhere in Africa themselfves wanting to help. Many of them had had similar experiences — a crucial reason why the story caught their attention so they could identify with it. Psychologists call this effect “experience matching” and it is one of the most important aspects why stories are so powerful and arouse interest.
2. Substitute learning: For those who have not been active in the field or who have not been on a mission in Africa so far, this story offered the opportunity of “substitute learning”. Listeners could feel the desperation of the main character, who was on a difficult search for relevant malaria information — they could imagine the experience of this situation. This effect is also very well known in psychology and very common among coaches — patients can be convinced much better if they are given reports of experiences in the form of a story instead of being presented as bare facts or general life wisdom.
3. Contextualization: But the third mechanism of action of storytelling is crucial. With the story from Zambia, Denning succeeded in getting his colleagues to commit to a common goal, a goal that was bigger and more meaningful than just programming a database on the intranet. It was the vision of a “new” World Bank, an organization that could play a much more significant role if it were to transform itself into a knowledge organization.
The meaningful function of stories is not only interesting from a psychological perspective, but also its sociological, community-building effect is exciting: stories turn us into social beings.
About children’s beds and campfires
We do not invent and tell stories only for ourselves alone. We share them. Stories have always been told in groups — whether around a campfire or in front of a large audience on stage. Often they are passed on in a familiar setting, rocking on grandpa’s knee or as a bedtime story. But also on screens, stages and podiums. Stories develop their full power when they are passed on and retold. The phenomenon of “shareability”, as sharing is called in Facebook and others, is not an invention of the internet. Good stories have always been viral and are passed on — from generation to generation, from community to community, from team to team. This exchange is one of the most important rituals to form groups and keeping them together. Knowing the same history and story — and being able to relate to it together becomes a crucial element of group identity. Stories weld a group together — as a community of knowledge, as a community of fans, as a family.Thus, all religions are based on a core story or a collection of ancient myths such as the Bible, the Koran or the dreamtime legends of the Australian Aborigines. Religious adherents refer to these stories and recognize each other through knowledge of these stories. Also national identities refer to founding myths and historical narratives.
»Nationhood, everyone now seems to agree, is inseparable from storytelling.« — Patrick Hogan
Many of these narratives refer specifically to persons such as Jeanne d´Arc or Arminius, who defeated the Roman army in the Teutoburg Forest/Germany. Often, however, these are stories about places or buildings, such as The Alamo, the fort in San Antonio, where a small troop of Texans fought for independence in 1836 against a superior force of 7,000 Mexicans. After two weeks of siege, the fort was stormed by the Mexicans and all 200 male Texans were killed, among them the 49-year-old war hero and politician Davy Crockett, from whom comes the often-quoted saying among Texans:
And even companies often derive their identity and group feeling from stories. Here, founding myths prove to be extremely effective means of creating meaning and community.
One example is the story of Taavet Hinrikus and Kristo Kaarmann, founder of the start-up TransferWise. Hinrikus was one of the first employees of Skype Estonia, but he lived and worked in London. His salary was paid in Euros, although he desperately needed English Pounds in London. His friend Kristo Kaarmann worked for Deloitte in London and therefore received his salary in English Pounds. However, because he had a house in Estonia to pay off, he urgently needed Euros. The two of them soon realized that transferring their money across borders would swallow up vast amounts of fees. So in 2011 they founded TransferWise, an alternative money transfer system that is cheaper and easier to use than traditional money transfer and banking systems. The initial two employees have now grown to almost over 2,200 in 14 offices worldwide, and the young start-up has been profitable since 2017. Each of their employees can tell the story of Taavet and Kristo.
Or the story of Yvon Chouinard, an entrepreneur who finds it difficult to pronounce the word “entrepreneur”. Not because of the French word, but because the French Canadian entrepreneur actually despises it and wanted to become anything but a businessman. Chouinard is an extreme climber, and because he could not find suitable clothing for his sport, he decided to produce it himself. After a climbing trip in South America, he founded his own company in 1973: Patagonia. Any Patagonia employee can tell the story of the entrepreneur who does not want to be an entrepreneur. And the numerous stories surrounding the founder of the brand not only serve to position the outdoor label’s brand, but above all help to promote the identification of the company’s own employees with the company. The title of Yvon Chouinard’s biography quotes one of his most famous sayings — “Let My People Go Surfing” — and precisely describes the attitude to life and image of the company and its sports-loving employees.
“Social bonding” via storytelling works for nations, for companies, but also for much smaller units. A speaker who knows how to use the power of a story properly creates a group feeling and a common understanding in the presentation room, which can be inspiring, identity-building and motivating. You have certainly experienced this before: an audience leaves the conference room at the end of an inspiring presentation. The coffee break is about to begin, and suddenly everyone is talking to everyone else. As soon as they leave, they want to talk to their neighbours about what they have just heard. For a brief moment, a sworn group is formed, which refers to a story. Storytelling enables the listeners to have a group experience that unites them — even if only for a brief moment — and welds them together into a community of fate.
“You may all go to hell and I will go to Texas.”
Together. Forever. Social Bonding
Stories can create community between people who do not know each other personally. Narrations enable them to have a common, unifying relationship to places, regions and nationalities.And even companies often derive their identity and group feeling from stories. Here, founding myths prove to be extremely effective means of creating meaning and community.
One example is the story of Taavet Hinrikus and Kristo Kaarmann, founder of the start-up TransferWise. Hinrikus was one of the first employees of Skype Estonia, but he lived and worked in London. His salary was paid in Euros, although he desperately needed English Pounds in London. His friend Kristo Kaarmann worked for Deloitte in London and therefore received his salary in English Pounds. However, because he had a house in Estonia to pay off, he urgently needed Euros. The two of them soon realized that transferring their money across borders would swallow up vast amounts of fees. So in 2011 they founded TransferWise, an alternative money transfer system that is cheaper and easier to use than traditional money transfer and banking systems. The initial two employees have now grown to almost over 2,200 in 14 offices worldwide, and the young start-up has been profitable since 2017. Each of their employees can tell the story of Taavet and Kristo.
Or the story of Yvon Chouinard, an entrepreneur who finds it difficult to pronounce the word “entrepreneur”. Not because of the French word, but because the French Canadian entrepreneur actually despises it and wanted to become anything but a businessman. Chouinard is an extreme climber, and because he could not find suitable clothing for his sport, he decided to produce it himself. After a climbing trip in South America, he founded his own company in 1973: Patagonia. Any Patagonia employee can tell the story of the entrepreneur who does not want to be an entrepreneur. And the numerous stories surrounding the founder of the brand not only serve to position the outdoor label’s brand, but above all help to promote the identification of the company’s own employees with the company. The title of Yvon Chouinard’s biography quotes one of his most famous sayings — “Let My People Go Surfing” — and precisely describes the attitude to life and image of the company and its sports-loving employees.
“Social bonding” via storytelling works for nations, for companies, but also for much smaller units. A speaker who knows how to use the power of a story properly creates a group feeling and a common understanding in the presentation room, which can be inspiring, identity-building and motivating. You have certainly experienced this before: an audience leaves the conference room at the end of an inspiring presentation. The coffee break is about to begin, and suddenly everyone is talking to everyone else. As soon as they leave, they want to talk to their neighbours about what they have just heard. For a brief moment, a sworn group is formed, which refers to a story. Storytelling enables the listeners to have a group experience that unites them — even if only for a brief moment — and welds them together into a community of fate.
So — tell more instead of just presenting. And read on. Either in Stephen Denning’s book: “The Springboard — How Storytelling Ignites Action in Knowledge”. Taylor & Francis, 2001 — or in the book from which this text was taken (in German): “What’s your Story? Leadership Storytelling für Führungskräfte, Projektverantwortliche und alle, die etwas bewegen wollen” — a book that encourages everyone to tell more than just present. Published 2019 by O’Reilly, available at your local bookstore, amazon, O’Reilly, Thalia or GenialLokal
