The systems thinker that was (not) there

By its own nature and origin, the discipline of systems thinking, in its various forms, is inter-disciplinary in the face of volatile, uncertain, complex and ambiguous (VUCA) situations.  It is best to address such situations with as many different perspectives as possible, so that we can learn from and with other people who come from diverse backgrounds and who might also have different goals to us.  

Systems thinking offers a common language for dialogue.  During the twentieth century and stemming from the work of biologists, philosophers and psychologists, among others, it often arrives at a single and communal idea:  that of a system. A set of inter-related, inter-connected parts whose interaction leads us to consider what emerges.  

As discussed before in this blog (see latest post), this arrival is often accompanied by a similar one:  Acknowledging one's own values in relation to those perceived to be enacted or lived in the system.  The emergence can also include a shift in people's identities.  Faced with the complex nature of situations, we and others might not see as experts anymore.  

I have called this dual situation (one as ethical subject, the system or systems in which one is operating) as 'arrivals', many of which could be acknowledged as common by different professionals or practitioners.  In my systems thinking journey, these arrivals include ethical reflection on the type of person I have been and want to become.  They also include a realisation that am only a part of systems or situations, so any change does not depend entirely on me, even if my perfectionist self would say otherwise.  A realisation to continue being engaged in situations, now protecting my own sanity, which might include that of my loved ones.  

Other systems thinkers like Jean Boulton, adopting ideas from Taoism and Metaphysics, would prefer to call this a becomings.  The difference between these two terms (arrivals, becomings) could only be epistemological and in relation to how a system thinker places him/herself in relation to what goes on.  Boulter's take seems to be more directed at not distinguishing much the individual, but more the fluid and emerging patterns of interaction betwen human and non human elements of a 'system'.  Here the idea of a system seems to be better understood as relational processes (of becoming), which one could also term as processes of organising.  

Systems thinker Mike Jackson (2024) , on the other hand, would prefer to distinguish features of systems or situations using systemic perspectives.  These, in my mind, are metaphorical narratives, comparisons that, using our inherited ability to associate or filter things via language devices, can help us identify and appreciate salient features of how things and people 'work' or relate.  All of this under a big realisation that we will never gain a full appreciation of what goes on in a situation.  

In his latest development (EPIC), Mike Jackson has enriched his set of perspectives with features provided by popular systems methodologies and methods, to be also tackled with their help.  For example, a perspective of interrelationships aims to identify and bring to debate how people and issues, activities and technologies become interrelated so that the action or behaviour of one impacts on others and vice-versa. A methodology or method like systems dynamics could then help us better identity and address such relationships (in terms of stocks and flows for example), if that is deemed to be relevant by stakeholders.  

To this kind of 'procedural' logic of Mike Jackson (many other systems thinkers, including myself, would share it), Jean Boulton would add that it is important to first look at what is becoming, and act as promptly as possible, so that if there is a detrimental pattern of interaction in a situation (system), it can be then avoided in its potential escalation.  It is researchers and practitioners who are to navigate this complexity of becomings (emerging patterns).  To effectively do that, they had better become flexible and bendy.  If needed, they can then promote more beneficial patterns, being helped by systems methodologies or methods.  

In both of the above cases, either by intervening early or later, with or without systems methodologies or methods, researchers or practitioners (individuals) would need to keep an eye on what goes on, given that through time other issues which would emerge from adopting other perspectives (i.e. mechanistic, cultural/political, social/environmental) require changes in an intervention strategy.  This, inevitably, will also bring us inside the picture, where we would need to reflect on our own preferences and biases, our blindness, influenced by what we think are our own values and those of others.  

When reviewing and using Boulter and Jackson's ideas in my own practice (that includes teaching systems thinking), I find myself arriving at certain points where reflection and (in)flexibility is required.  An educator or a student that notices something salient in a situation, for example an opportunity to implement a creative idea, or a pressing issue that nobody wants to discuss inside or outside the classroom, arrives at some realisations, emerging from his/her understandings, which s/he can share with others.  It is then when s/he has an opportunity to 'steer' things in certain directions.  Like a football game, the ball falls at his/her feet.  What to do then? What is the next move?  

Doing nothing is one option. Inviting other people, from other backgrounds or disciplines to contribute is another; leaving others to decide another one; or taking action on his/her own another one.  From the perspective of an educator, there is also the tempation to say: "Let the students sort themselves out!".  Myself, I prefer challenging students to go beyond the classroom, and if possible, supporting them, until I realise that my own sanity comes first.  

We then arrive at a kind of paradox.  

The systems thinker, someone who has been somehow leading the observing of a situation (or inviting others to do so),  using the idea of a system and its derived applied methods or methodologies, comes to the foreground to almost inmediately disappear, as if s/he has not been there at all.  A curious insight.  

The reader might ask at this point:  How can we then appear and disappear shortly after?  

Many years ago, a student of mine asked me a similar question:  How can we be systems thinkers without being 'punished' by that?  

My reply then was:  "Do your best.  Be as open as possible to other people's views.  Let them know yours. If possible, engage with them in learning about a situation, let the inquiry in the hands of a systems methodology.  And hope that what comes out is beneficial for us all"

Today I can say that my answer would be very similar.  

Only that there might be a need to let them know that you are or were there, but not as the main character in the situation.    That would be self-defeating.  

And if they ask:  What should we do? You can always say:  "I really do not know [I was/am not there!], but if you keep asking, we can always try to find out together". 

Systems thinking practice: Mastery or Mystery ?

And now to address this tricky question of systems thinking practice:  Mastery or Mystery?

First I would like to describe why this question came about.  

Having revamped my course on systems thinking (creativity and problem solving, MN2515) in the last year (2025-2026), I was left with many questions about how to improve it.  Some of these questions however I remember from the past, perhaps when I was doing my PhD or writing about engaging in situations with the help of systems ideas and methods.  

One of such questions, which I remember also discussing with Gerald Midgley at the time, was about what elements, and their connections, were  needed to effectively conduct a systemic intervention.  He initially suggested a systems book where the facilitators, the people conducting or orchestrating the intervention, needed to reflect on his own values and expertise, and sentitively act according to what they thought was relevant to do in it.  This need could arise after gaining some practice (academic, professional) in the field of applied systems thinking.  

Later on, Gerald would write his own book on systemic intervention, highlighting the importance of boundary reflections in a process that he called knowledge generation.  In this process agents (individual or collective) would engage in such a generation, with the aim of arriving at and implementing improvements in a situation.  As part of this process, agents would also reflect in their own identities and their use of (systems thinking) methods.  Decisions about both of these elements (as well as what or who were considered relevant in a situation) would necessitate of critique on the boundaries that they privilege.  Critique and action would then be continuously intertwinned. 

In terms of practitioners' identities, these could also be 'shifting', and practitioners could be then use the language of boundaries to reflect on their own values, norms and preferred methods or methodologies.  In my own work and somehow following the ideas of Midgley and also of Mike Jackson and indirectly the work of Norma Romm, I have proposed and validated a number of methodological frameworks that, similar to these authors, aim to facilitate critical reflection in complex situations, employing a variety of systems and non-systems methods.  

This journey, spanning of over 20 years, has taken me to different areas of knowledge:  information systems planning and disciplining, electronic government evaluation, sustainability education, and more recently, the circular economy of food waste in university campuses and community rediscovery.  

In this journey, and when defining or discussing possible improvements with people, or when thinking about creative solutions to problems identified, perhaps also due to my personality, I find a recurrent theme:  That of ethical identities.  The theme resurfaces when deciding what is the right thing to do, not only about the situation under study, but also for myself as an ethical subject.  

Practice (including writing about my own systemic interventions) has, one way or another, led me to this theme.  More recently the theme resurfaced when I was proposing to run an event with a community (Sheerwater).  Previous to this, we had been discussing some ideas to help the residents rediscover a sense of hope.  One of the ideas was, and still is, that of revamping the community newsletter.  This idea seemed to be the right thing to do.  

The practice of preparing, running and event, and aiming to continue helping Sheerwater has brought to the surface my own values.  At the event, I wanted to include groups of people which I considered difficult to include.  To continue discussions, I thought that we could organise a follow up at a 'neutral' place to take community residents out of their comfort zone (locality), and help them experience what I thought was a more creative environment.  We could then engage in 'free' thinking about the new newsletter, in a nice, surrounding environment, which to me had been bringing a sense of peace (and hope).  

When proposing this idea, place and method to those who helped me run the previous event last year (2025), I encountered a divergence of opinions.  Mainly, they wanted to organise the event at the community centre, with people who would not travel outside Sheerwater.  At first, I felt comfortable with adopting this idea and engagement method (which also included having lunch by a known caterer). But then, after a pillow talk I decided not to pursue the event further.  And so I let potential partners know.  They understood.  

This taughtme that what I considered my own values seemed to have clashed with other people's.  I was in for creativity, a form of inclusion, and a method (facilitation by myself).  We initially coincided that discussing a newsletter revamping for the community was and still is much needed.  But there were differences in how to execute this idea.  

Since this has happened, I have been able to reflect (again!) on why and how the ethics of systems thinking practice resurfaces in my own work.  Throughout the years, I have learned (slowly) that it is OK to have this sort of ethical differences.  It is important to discuss them, and try to find ways to iron them out, and as Gerald suggest, to see if there is a new boundary that could contain those that give rise to conflict.  

In some cases, compromises have been achieved.  In this situation, I could have given in, or find a new 'place', with new 'audiences' (including those we were thinking about).  But I decided to stop, wait and see.  The decision was perhaps, motivated by my experience with the previous event, where I could notice that we did marginalise some of the community members whilst including others.  We gained in terms of creativity, as historical research helped nurture discussions about possibilities (i.e. revamping the newsletter).  We needed, in my view, to include other people in such discussions.  

Systems thinking practice seems to keep me interested and confused.  Yes, I have gained what I consider a degree of mastery in engaging with people in situations: raising issues, inviting to dialogue, facilitating discussions, writing about what happens.  But no, I have not found the silver bullet to deal with ethical conflicts when they arise.  I keep relying on what I consider are my ethical values, at the time.  

The mystery of what arises, and how to deal with it is what also drives me to try to find out such a silver bullet.  In my readings and abstractings of ethics, I find an important dilemma:  Should I reflect and live my own values, or should I go with the flow of what is being considered the right thing to do, being also critical of what is considered the right thing to do, so that I find a right moment to declare my values?  

My current answer to this dilemma, is that it is always better to try to find a middle way with  compromises.  However, there is is no need to 'give in' fully, if you as a systems thinker feels strongly about something.  Standing for what one believes (values) is often, despite sounding contary to being systemic, more important than simply striving for collaborations.  This standing however does not permanent or rigid, it could be temporary, serious when it has to be, and full of humour about the futility of our attempts to decide what/who is right or wrong.  The reader can see other posts where I have talked about Zhuangzi, and how at the end of the day, we are only a grain of sand in the vast beach of the universe.  

So it is in this finding of and reflecting on dilemmas in situations like the above that systems thinking practice, and its appeal to me, lies.  To know that despite striving for Mastery, or relying on it, we will never know what really and fully goes on in situations, and with ourselves.  We only have what we think happens.  We also have methods, ideas and values, to deal with what happens. We could try to avoid unnecessary discussions whilst aiming to be inclusive and critical.

  

Maybe in a few years' time, all of these things will change, so why do we excessively cling to them?  I think this is where the mystery of systems thinking practice, the answer to the question posed at the beginning of this post, and life in general, lies too.  

Zhuangzi, Hundun and communities

For the last few years, I have been learning about The Zhuangzi.   It is traditionally regarded as a seminal text from the Daoist tradition alongside the Tao Te Ching. 

The Zhuangzi is is a historical text that was possibly written by Zhuangzi himself around 400 B.C.  It has been commented or interpreted by others through time.  

My interest in Zhuangzi started when exploring the rise of the profilicity phenomena which has been identified and proposed by the authors Hans Moeller and Daniel D'Ambrosio (2021), and which I included in my book about ritual and systems thinking.  

I became interested in the idea that, in our modern societies, we have to develop and maintain profiles in our different interactions with people.  This was contrary to what I thought up to that point: that we need to have a consistent identity, something to do with our inner values.  

During my writing of the book about ritual and systems thinking, I started realising that I had been driven too much by my own upbringing.  To have a sincere, authentic identity.  To be consistent with a set of values, and try my best to live up to them.  It has also taken me several years to identify which values I had maintained.  One of them for example is loyalty.  In the ritual book, I reflect it when I talk about my rituals to ensure that I belonged to a team of very competent individuals.  

Hans Moeller himself had written about Daoism before (2004), identifying allegories in both The Zhangzi and Tao Te King texts that they consider very important to help us deal with our complex world.  Moeller has joined efforts with D'Ambrosio and later on (2017) where they study and explain in more detail the art of "genuine pretending", an attitude of acceptance, spontaneity, and easiness to help us with our dealings. They also use the Zhuanzi's translations and included commentaries from Zyporyn (2009) in their work.   

As an attitude (am sure there are better terms for it), genuine pretending embeds humour and satirism in both the allegories that Moeller and D'Ambrosio bring forth from the Zhuangzi (and others).  In a nutshell, it is about not commiting oneself too much to fixed identities in situation, or if doing so, accepting that these identities are contingent and temporary.  So ironically we are to try our best when assuming such identities (or roles), knowing that we are to move on from them.  

In my rituals book, I narrate how I showed my loyalty during meetings and when interacting with technology vendors and users.  I upheld the strategy of our organization.  I also did not put colleagues on the spot.  But through time, something changed in my projects.  I was the one on the spot.  Some colleagues challenged (sometimes with good reason) my competence in public.  This made me rethink how I needed to approach work.  I then fought back.  I spoke out more often and loudly.  And then I left after a while, seeking other career prospects.  

Perhaps I stopped pretending.  Am very thankful though to people I worked with.  I learned a bit about what happens in work meetings.  

Hans Moeller has found strong similarities between genuine pretenting and the work of the systems author Niklas Luhmann.  Although Luhmann would regard human agency as the wrong essential component of social systems (it is more about communication than agency), genuine pretending can lead us to acknowledge that our identities are (not) determined to some extent by the communication demands of such systems (for example the economy, law, the market).  We are, if possible then to engage in communications by treating them as second order observations, in other words observing and being aware of how others observe (us).  

The market for example is based on what others say about it. The law continusly decides what is legal or not based on what others (judges, rulings, previous laws) have observed.  Nowadays, our social media profiles communications are composed by what other people say about them (i.e. comments, likes).  Therefore, our identities, our profiles can and need to be regarded as being formed by observations.  They are constituted when we engaged in communications with 'peers' (other and usually more visible, powerful or influential profiles).  

We are, somehow to detach ourselves from what we think we 'are' in our dealings with communities.  This is because, according to Daoism and the Zhuangzi, we will never fully aprehend what goes on, and it does not matter!.  There is no point in staying attached to identities that somehow we think are part of such reality.  We are just to assume identities temporarily.  And protect ourselves from what they ask of us if they ask us for too much.  

Hundun

Genuine pretending can embrace many of the allegories of the Zhuangzi to help us humurously recognise issues about our identities in situations.  Moeller (2004) and Moeller and D'Ambrosio (2021) bring forth several of these allegories.  They range from short paragraphs to more extensive ones, from long narratives to phrases that end with a 'pun' or unexpected twist.  

In allegories, the characters are named intentionally to resemble identities that Confucionism regarded as venerable, with (powerful) roles that establish distance between participants.  The narratives then provide conversations and interactions that challenge the prevailing tatus quo or the norms whilst still operating within them.  

One of my favourite allegories/ narrative is that of Hundun (Zhuangzi, chapter 7).  In it, and according to Moeller (2015), a powerful 'emperor' dies after being identified by others as very benevolent.  A brief text is as follows:  

The emperor of the South Sea was called Shu [Brief]; the emperor of the North Sea was called Hu [Sudden]; and the emperor of the central region was called Hundun [Chaos]. From time to time, Shu and Hu came together for a meeting in the territory of Hundun, and Hundun treated them very generously. Shu and Hu discussed how they could repay his kindness. “All men,” they said, “have seven openings so they can see, hear, eat, and breathe. But Hundun alone doesn’t have any. Let’s trying boring him some!”

Every day they bored another hole, and on the seventh day Hundun died.

For Moeller (2015), this short passage confirms the dangers of overidentifying oneself with a role, an identity or a way of thinking and acting. Through time, the 'emperor' Hundun fails to protect 'itself' from such an overidentification. Those that contribute to 'kill him' (the other emperors) think that they are helping him become more 'human', in other words someone with a clear and dependable identity.

'Hundun' is not an emperor per se.  It represents also the 'Dao' that which cannot be named, the force that moves everything. Why should we then 'tame' it, instead of letting it flow through us? In other words, why we should tame ourselves to fixed, 'humanly' recognised identities?  Why should we stay so 'loyal' to them?  

Community work

Back to the present.  After recently finishing two of my 'research' projects (you can read about them in previous blog posts) I have attempted to continue them.  And somehow I have begun to succeed.  

I am in contact with community managers at my university and beyond.  I have also begun to involve some of my students from my course on creativity and problem solving (2025-2026).  We have had several meetings and are trying to better understand a complex situation.  I keep showing up, offering ideas and support. All of this is voluntary work. 

What has transpired so far is that at times I find challenging myself about why I want to continue.  I experience frustration or dissatisfaction, as things take time to get off the ground, other people do not show up for meetings or them and I are simply too busy. 

With the Zhuanzi in mind, am now trying to be more careful about my loyalty and commitment.  I have asked myself: 

• Is this project or idea what is needed? 
• Why?  
• What do I want to achieve? 

And perhaps more importantly: 

• What is my identity here, is it too fixed?

On this last question, perhaps I am becoming one of the 'emperors' that is trying to help Hundun, by identifying myself with this identity,  and by also 'forcing' things, trying be loyal, and grateful.  

Zhuangzi and Hundun would remind us that at the end, we are not who we think we are, at least not in the eyes of others.  We observe and are being observed, things often move quickly, and we also move on.  With the best of intentions, we can only smile about how things pan out.