I was first exposed to Greg McKeown’s notion of “The Disciplined Pursuit of Less” in reading his article for the Harvard Business Review a couple of years ago. McKeown argued that too much success can be a catalyst for failure. He outlined the clarity paradox in four phases:
Phase 1: When we really have clarity of purpose, it leads to success.
Phase 2: When we have success, it leads to more options and opportunities.
Phase 3: When we have increased options and opportunities, it leads to diffused efforts.
Phase 4: Diffused efforts undermine the very clarity that led to our success in the first place.
It is an interesting observation that we need to continue to ask what is essential and to eliminate the rest. It is a principle, albeit often with limited success, that I have tried to apply to my professional life and to the work of our school district.
Over the holidays, I read McKeown’s expanded argument in his book Essentialism – The Disciplined Pursuit of Less. The book resonated differently with me now than it did then, as I thought about his notion (borrowed from Dieter Rams) of “less but better” in the context of the curricular shifts currently being proposed in British Columbia.
The general discussion around the redesign in British Columbia’s K-12 education is that over time we have created curriculum that has become bloated with outcomes. References are often made to the dozens (in some cases more than 100) discrete outcomes students need to learn in a particular discipline, in a particular grade. The Draft Curriculum (currently posted for K-9) aligns with the notion of Essentialism that McKeown forwards in his book, “it is not about how to get more things done; it’s about how to get the right things done. It doesn’t mean just doing less for the sake of less either. It is about making the wisest possible investment of your time and energy.” I hear the worry, if we reduce curricular outcomes for students, are we not asking less of them? Instead, as McKeown argues with Essentialism, it is about asking what is essential and allowing students to go deeper and flourish rather than simply cover topics.
I like the idea of reframing McKeown’s questions around schools and learning, looking at what is already covered in schools to ask tough questions about whether we should continue:
By applying tougher criteria we can tap into our brain’s sophisticated search engine. If we search for “a good opportunity,” then we will find scores of pages for us to think about and work through. Instead, we can conduct an advanced search and ask three questions: “What am I deeply passionate about?” and “What taps my talent?” and “What meets a significant need in the world?” Naturally there won’t be as many pages to view, but that is the point of the exercise. We aren’t looking for a plethora of good things to do. We are looking for our absolute highest point of contribution.
In some ways, school systems and curriculum may be the victims of their own success — the kind of success that can lead to failure. Over the last several decades we have crammed more and more “stuff” into schools. As schools have become more successful with this, they have taken more on which has led to diffused efforts. Perhaps stepping back and looking at what is essential is a very good exercise.
Regardless of whether one finds McKeown’s thesis as one that links to schools and curriculum redesign, his article and book offer a good challenge for us as we look at how we live our lives as successful and/or very succesful people in our world.
Personally, I think our schools and our lives could often use a good dose of less but better.
cultureofyes.ca 
Not sure if this is entirely along the same lines but I’ve struggled with schools notions and attempts to be all things to all kids. That mantra is fairly prevalent. The idea that every school, every teacher has the capacity to reach every kid can be a pretty arduous task and often creates undo blame and guilt.
If we indeed focus on less, focus on what we can do and do well, I think we’ll be better off. The trade off will be that some times we’re going to have to admit when our buildings and spaces aren’t suited for everyone and that’s going to have to be okay. That’s not about abandoning children but being responsible to help them find the space and community that works for them.
In some ways that would mean having spaces that are more unique, more specialized in the same way people are unique. I think that’s a difficult concept for schools to embrace as they’ve been told “all children can learn” which, while I believe is true, I also don’t believe all children can learn everywhere.
This would be a great conversation to have with schools.
Yes, I think this is a good fit for the discussion. It opens up the good conversation around all schools as comprehensive schools and what we sometimes refer to in West Vancouver is each school with its own signature – that might be appealing to a certain type of learner more than others. And then, of course, one is into the debate over the power of neighbourhood schools.
To move slightly off this topic, for me the notion of “less but better” makes me think of how we got in this place where schools are not only responsible for literacy and numeracy, but the arts, physical activity, and in some places still even driver education. While it just seems natural that sports are a part of school in North America – people in some European countries think this is odd – perhaps an example of since schools were really good at teaching Math and Science they should teach sports as well. And thus, perhaps a lack of clarity in the purpose of schooling.
Even with all the discussion around finding “white space” in the school day and the move to fewer outcomes, it is almost weekly that I hear someone with an idea of something that should be added in schools. Since schools have been so good at A, B and C – let’s add more – from mountain safety, to table etiquette to mandatory guitar. Of course, they are all great – but they diffuse the original purpose and we end up with school being a collection of a lot of not well connected stuff.
Couldn’t agree more, Chris. Thanks again for a most interesting post.
Best for the New Year to you and yours from Mexico,
Malcolm
Thanks Malcolm. It is a notion we will have to pick up on when you work with our Board later this spring.
This is a terrific post. My book ‘Do Less Better. The Power of Strategic Sacrifice in a Complex World’ makes these points as they apply to business. I’m delighted to see an educational leader expounding the benefits within the academic world. The interesting irony? Doing less better in no way implies doing less work. Those who embrace focus, work harder because they are passionate and emotionally-connected to the vision.
Thanks John for the comment and the connection. I actually see doing less better can be more work – as the increased focus leads to an increased depth and accountability. Without question, the teachers I see having kids go deeper with inquiry are not creating less work for themselves or their students but different work.
Thank you for bringing this idea forwards Chris. A few thoughts:
* Remember Stephen Covey: less is more?
* You may enjoy reading “The Organized Mind” by Levine. The first 2 chapters ‘connect’ with the idea that less is best and goes on to deal with ‘what is essential’ and organizing with the criteria of ‘essential’ as the guide. John, your comment on ‘focus’ indicates you would enjoy at least the first 2 chapters of this book.
* John, so true! Doing less better is challenging cognitive work. Deep learning is only possible when we focus on doing less better because deep learning takes time, so much more time than memorizing ‘everything’.
* Cognitive overload is a much talked about issue in cognitive neuroscience. And John Hattie with Gregory Yates has much to say about the problems cognitive overload creates in our lives. It is quite shocking to see the science regarding just how much kids, youth and adults can handle in the conscious brain at one time and then consider what we expect kids (and ourselves) to manage.
* Dean, the ‘elephant in the school room’, in my opinion, is the impossible idea that teachers (and schools) can be all things to the limitless diversity of all students. Talk about overload! There are some cognitive neuroscientists (e.g. Charles Ahearn and deKirby) who are saying that at the subconscious level of our brains (where much more happens than at the conscious level) we are more alike than different when it comes to learning. And when we look at human relationships there are some common needs regarding relationships that we all share. We could re-think what we are trying to do using neuroscience to help us make some decisions.
* And Chris, when the education system tries to address the ‘whole child’ with a bizillion different curriculums and activities, educators, and kids, are overwhelmed. The only option for survival is to skim across the surface of everything and end up with little, or nothing. An easy way to test my claim is likely happening this week in classrooms as teachers are asking students to recall what they did in early December: “What do you remember about the lessons on variables?” There will be students in that classroom who look at the teacher like the teacher has ‘2 heads’ – “you’re kidding?” they say. “what’s a variable?”
Thank you Chris for the link to the new BC curriculum. After I have cleared my driveway of the 2′ of snow that fell these last few days, I will come in and start looking at it.
Reminded me of Douglas Adams: “The History of every major Galactic Civilization tends to pass through three distinct and recognizable phases, those of Survival, Inquiry and Sophistication, otherwise known as the How, Why, and Where phases. For instance, the first phase is characterized by the question ‘How can we eat?’ the second by the question ‘Why do we eat?’ and the third by the question ‘Where shall we have lunch?”
Or in education: how can we teach/learn (lecture/worksheet) Why do we teach/learn (afl/differentiation) Where shall we educate (24/7/365 – eportfolio)
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