That July afternoon in Coleman, Texas (population 5,607), was particularly hot — 104 degrees according to the Walgreen's Rexall's thermometer. In addition, the wind was blowing fine-grained West Texas topsoil through the house. But the afternoon was still tolerable — even potentially enjoyable. A fan was stirring the air on the back porch; there was cold lemonade; and finally, there was entertainment. Dominoes. Perfect for the conditions. The game requires little more physical exertion than an occasional mumbled comment, "Shuffle 'em," and an unhurried movement of the arm to place the tiles in their appropriate positions on the table. All in all, it had the makings of an agreeable Sunday afternoon in Coleman. That is, until my father-in-law suddenly said, "Let's get in the car and go to Abilene and have dinner at the cafeteria."
I thought, "What, go to Abilene? Fifty-three miles? In this dust storm and heat? And in an unairconditioned 1958 Buick?"
But my wife chimed in with, "Sounds like a great idea. I'd like to go. How about you, Jerry?" Since my own preferences were obviously out of step with the rest, I replied, "Sounds good to me," and added, "I just hope your mother wants to go."
"Of course I want to go," said my mother-in-law. "I haven't been to Abilene in a long time."
So into the car and off to Abilene we went. My predictions were fulfilled. The heat was brutal. Perspiration had cemented a fine layer of dust to our skin by the time we arrived. The cafeteria's food could serve as a first-rate prop in an antacid commercial.
Some four hours and 106 miles later, we returned to Coleman, hot and exhausted. We silently sat in front of the fan for a long time. Then, to be sociable and to break the silence, I dishonestly said, "It was a great trip, wasn't it?"
No one spoke.
Finally, my mother-in-law said, with some irritation, "Well, to tell the truth, I really didn't enjoy it much and would rather have stayed here. I just went along because the three of you were so enthusiastic about going. I wouldn't have gone if you all hadn't pressured me into it."
I couldn't believe it. "What do you mean 'you all'?" I said. "Don't put me in the 'you all' group. I was delighted to be doing what we were doing. I didn't want to go. I only went to satisfy the rest of you. You're the culprits."
My wife looked shocked. "Don't call me a culprit. You and Daddy and Mama were the ones who wanted to go. I just went along to keep you happy. I would have had to be crazy to want to go out in heat like that."
Her father entered the conversation with one word: "Shee-it."[1] He then expanded on what was already absolutely clear: "Listen, I never wanted to go to Abilene. I just thought you might be bored. You visit so seldom I wanted to be sure you enjoyed it. I would have preferred to play another game of dominoes and eat the leftovers in the icebox."
After the outburst of recrimination, we all sat back in silence. Here we were, four reasonably sensible people who — of our own volition — had just taken a 106-mile trip across a godforsaken desert in furnace-like heat and a dust storm to eat unpalatable food at a hole-in-the-wall cafeteria in Abilene, when none of us had really wanted to go. To be concise, we'd done just the opposite of what we wanted to do. The whole situation simply didn't make sense.
At least it didn't make sense at the time. But since that day in Coleman, I have observed, consulted with, and been a part of more than one organization that has been caught in the same situation. As a result, the organizations have either taken side trips or, occasionally, terminal "journeys to Abilene," when Dallas or Houston or Tokyo was where they really wanted to go. And for most of those organizations, the negative consequences of such trips, measured in terms of both human misery and economic loss, have been much greater than for our little Abilene group.
I now call the tendency for groups to embark on excursions that no group member wants "the Abilene Paradox." Stated simply, when organizations blunder into the Abilene Paradox, they take actions in contradiction to what they really want to do and therefore defeat the very purposes they are trying to achieve. Business theorists typically believe that managing conflict is one of the greatest challenges faced by any organization, but a corollary of the Abilene Paradox states that the inability to manage agreement may be the major source of organization dysfunction. Therefore, in this book I want to suggest ways that organizations can cope more effectively with the pernicious influence of the paradox.
As a means to accomplish this goal, in this sermon I shall describe the symptoms exhibited by organizations caught in the paradox; describe — in abbreviated case studies — how the symptoms occur in a variety of organizations; discuss the underlying causal dynamics; indicate some of the implications of accepting this model for describing organizational behavior; make recommendations for coping with the paradox; and, in conclusion, relate the paradox to a broader existential issue.
The inability to manage agreement — not the inability to manage conflict — is the essential symptom that defines organizations caught in the web of the Abilene Paradox. Groups that fail to manage agreement effectively display six specific characteristics, all of which were present when my family went to Abilene:
Organization members individually agree in private about the nature of the situation or problem facing the organization. For example, members of the Abilene group agreed that they were enjoying themselves sitting in front of the fan, sipping lemonade, and playing dominoes.
Organization members individually agree in private about what steps would be required to cope with the situation or problem. For members of the Abilene group, "more of the same" was a solution that would have adequately satisfied individual and collective desires.
Organization members fail to accurately communicate their desires and/or beliefs to one another. In fact, they do just the opposite, thereby leading one another into misperceiving the collective reality. On the basis of incorrect assumptions about the consensus, each member of the Abilene group communicated inaccurate data to the other members of the organization. The data, in effect, said, "Yeah, it's a great idea. Let's go to Abilene," when, in reality, members of the organization individually and collectively preferred to stay in Coleman.
With such invalid and inaccurate information, organization members make collective decisions that lead them to take actions contrary to what they want to do, thereby arriving at results that are counterproductive to the organization's intent and purposes. Thus, the Abilene group went to Abilene when it preferred to do something else.
As a result of taking actions that are counterproductive, organization members experience frustration, anger, irritation, and dissatisfaction with their organization. Consequently, they form subgroups with trusted acquaintances and blame other subgroups for the organization's dilemma. Frequently, they also blame authority figures and one another. Such phenomena were illustrated in the Abilene group by the "culprit" argument that occurred when we had returned to the comfort of the fan.
Finally, if organization members do not deal with the generic issue — the inability to manage agreement — the cycle repeats itself with greater intensity. Largely because it became conscious of the process, the Abilene group did not reach that point.
To repeat, the Abilene Paradox reflects a failure to manage agreement. In fact, it is my contention that the inability to cope with (manage) agreement, rather than the inability to cope with (manage) conflict, is the single most pressing issue of modern organizations.
The Abilene Paradox respects no individuals, organizations, or institutions. Consider two other "trips to Abilene" that illustrate both the pervasiveness of the paradox and its underlying dynamics.
The Ozyx Corporation is a relatively small industrial company that has embarked on a trip to Abilene. The president of Ozyx has hired a consultant to help discover the reasons for the poor profit picture of the company in general and the low morale and productivity of the R&D division in particular. During the process of investigation, the consultant becomes interested in a research project in which the company has invested a sizable proportion of its R&D budget.
When the consultant privately and separately asks the president, the vice-president for research, and the research manager, each describes the project as an idea that looked great on paper but will ultimately fail because of the unavailability of the technology required to make it work. Each of them also acknowledges that continued support of the project will create cash-flow problems that will jeopardize the very existence of the total organization.
Furthermore, each individual indicates that he has not told the others about his reservations. When asked why, the president says that he can't reveal his "true" feelings because abandoning the widely publicized project would make the company look bad in the press. In addition, candor on this issue would probably cause his vice-president's ulcer to kick up or, perhaps, even cause him to quit, "because he has staked his professional reputation on the project's success."
Similarly, the vice-president for research says that he can't let the president or the research manager know of his reservations because the president is so committed to it that "I would probably get fired for insubordination if I questioned the project."
Finally, the research manager says that he can't let the president or vice-president know of his doubts about the project because of their extreme commitment to the project's success.
All indicate that, in meetings with one another, they try to maintain an optimistic facade so that the others won't worry unduly about the project. The research director, in particular, admits to writing ambiguous progress reports so that the president and the vice-president can "interpret them to suit themselves." In fact, he says that he tends to slant them to the "positive" side, "given how committed the brass are."
The scent of the Abilene trail wafts from a paneled conference room where the project research budget is being considered for the following fiscal year. In the meeting itself, praises are heaped on the questionable project, and a unanimous decision is made to continue it for yet another year. This organization has boarded a bus to Abilene.
Although the real issue of agreement finally was confronted only eight months after the bus departed, that was nearly too late. The organization failed to meet a payroll and underwent a two-year period of personnel cutbacks, retrenchments, and austerity. Morale suffered, the most competent technical personnel resigned, and the organization's prestige in the industry declined.
"Apart from the grave question of who did what, Watergate presents America with the profound puzzle of why," says a May 27, 1973, editorial in the Washington Star and Daily News.[19] The editor asks, "What is it that led such a wide assortment of men, many of them high public officials, possibly including the president himself, either to instigate or to go along with and later try to hide a pattern of behavior that by now appears not only reprehensible, but stupid?"
Perhaps a probe of the dynamics of the Abilene Paradox could answer the editor's question. However, I shall let readers reach their own conclusions on the basis of excerpts from testimony before the Senate investigating committee on "the Watergate Affair."
In one exchange, Senator Howard Baker asked Herbert Porter, then a member of the White House staff, why he (Porter) found himself "in charge of or deeply involved in a dirty tricks operation of the campaign." In response, Porter indicated that he had experienced qualms about what he was doing, but that he "was not one to stand up in a meeting and say that this should be stopped. ... I kind of drifted along."
And when asked by Baker why he had "drifted along," Porter replied, "In all honesty, because of the fear of the group pressure that would ensue, of not being a team player ..." and "I felt a deep sense of loyalty to him [the president] or was appealed to on that basis."[20]
Jeb Magruder gave a similar response to a question posed by committee counsel Dash. Specifically, when asked about his, Mr. Dean's, and Mr. Mitchell's reactions to Mr. Liddy's proposal, which included bugging the Watergate, Mr. Magruder replied, "I think all three of us were appalled. The scope and size of the project were something that, at least in my mind, were not envisioned. I do not think it was in Mr. Mitchell's mind or Mr. Dean's, although I can't comment on their states of mind at that time." Mr. Mitchell, in his understated way of dealing with such difficult problems, indicated that this was not an "acceptable project."[21]
Later in his testimony, Mr. Magruder said, "I think I can honestly say that no one was particularly overwhelmed with the project. But I think we felt that this information could be useful, and Mr. Mitchell agreed to approve the project, and I then notified the parties of Mr. Mitchell's approval."[22]
Although I obviously was not privy to the private conversations of the principal characters, the data seem to reflect the essential elements of the Abilene Paradox. First, they indicate agreement. Evidently, Mitchell, Porter, Dean, and Magruder agreed that the plan was inappropriate. ("I think I can honestly say that no one was particularly overwhelmed with the project.") Second, the data indicate that the principal figures then proceeded to implement the plan in contradiction to their shared agreement. Third, the data surrounding the case clearly indicate that the plan multiplied the organization's problems rather than solving them. And finally, the organization broke into subgroups, with the various principals — such as the president, Mitchell, Porter, Dean, and Magruder — blaming one another for the dilemma in which they found themselves, and internecine warfare ensued.
In summary, it is possible that because of the inability of White House staff members to cope with the fact that they agreed, the organization took a trip to Abilene.
The Abilene Paradox has been stated succinctly as follows: Organizations frequently take actions in contradiction to the data they have for dealing with problems and, as a result, compound their problems rather than solving them. Like all paradoxes, the Abilene Paradox deals with absurdity. On the surface, it makes little sense for organizations — whether they are couples or companies, bureaucracies or governments — to take actions that are diametrically opposed to the data they possess for solving crucial organizational problems. Such actions are particularly absurd because they compound the very problems they are designed to solve, thereby defeating the purposes the organization is trying to achieve. However, as Anatol Rapaport and others have so cogently expressed it, paradoxes are generally paradoxes only because they are based on a logic or rationale that is different from what we understand or expect.[23]
Discovering the aberrant logic not only destroys the paradoxical quality but also offers alternative ways for coping with similar situations. Therefore, part of the dilemma facing an Abilene-bound organization may be the lack of a map — a theory or model — that provides rationality to the paradox.
Let us see if we can create such a map. The map will be developed by examining the underlying psychological themes of the profit-making organization and the bureaucracy, and it will include the following landmarks: (1) action anxiety, (2) negative fantasies, (3) real risk, (4) separation anxiety, and (5) the psychological reversal of risk and certainty. I hope that the discussion of such landmarks will provide harried organization travelers with a new map that will assist them in arriving at where they really want to go and, in addition, will help them assess the risks that are an inevitable part of the journey.
The concept of action anxiety provides the first landmark for locating roadways to bypass Abilene. Organization members take actions in contradiction to their understanding of the organization's problems, because thinking about acting in accordance with what they believe needs to be done makes them intensely anxious. Anxiety about following reasonable instincts is caused by factors that will be explored as the other landmarks are described. As a result of action anxiety, decision makers opt to pursue an unworkable research project or participate in an illegal activity rather than acting in a manner congruent with their beliefs. In essence, they choose to endure the negative professional and economic consequences of their decisions in order to avoid such anxiety. It's not that organization members are ignorant — they do know what needs to be done. For example, the principals of the research organization knew they were working on a project that had no real possibility of succeeding. And the central figures of the Watergate episode apparently knew that, for a variety of reasons, the plan to bug the Watergate did not make sense.
Such action anxiety experienced by the various protagonists may not make sense to those of us who are not directly involved, but the dilemma is not a new one. In fact, it is very similar to the anxiety eloquently expressed in Hamlet's famous soliloquy.
It is easy to translate Hamlet's anxious lament into that of the research manager of our R&D organization as he contemplates his report at the budget committee meeting. It might go something like this:
To maintain my sense of integrity and self-worth or compromise it, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the ignominy that comes from managing a nonsensical research project, or the fear and anxiety that come from making a report the president and V.P. may not like to hear.
So the anguish, procrastination, and counterproductive behavior of the research manager or of members of the White House staff are not much different from those of Hamlet; all might ask with equal justification Hamlet's subsequent searching question of what it is that "makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others we know not of."[24]
In short, like the various Abilene protagonists, we are faced with a deeper question: Why does action anxiety occur?
Part of the answer to that question may be found in the negative fantasies organization members have about acting in congruence with what they believe should be done.
Hamlet experienced such fantasies. Specifically, Hamlet's fantasies of the alternatives to current evils were more evils, and he didn't entertain the possibility that any action he might take could lead to an improvement in the situation. Hamlet's was not an unusual case, though. In fact, the "Hamlet syndrome" clearly occurred in both the industrial company and the Nixon White House. All of the organization protagonists had negative fantasies about what would happen if they acted in accordance with what they believed needed to be done.
The various managers in the R&D organization foresaw loss of face, prestige, position, and even health as the outcome of confronting the issues about which they believed, incorrectly, that they disagreed. Similarly, members of the White House staff feared being made scapegoats, branded as disloyal, or ostracized as non– team players if they acted in accordance with their understanding of reality.
To sum up, action anxiety is partly caused by the negative fantasies that organization members have about what will happen if they act in accordance with their understanding of what is sensible. The negative fantasies, in turn, serve an important function for the persons who have them. Specifically, they provide the individual with an excuse that releases him psychologically — both in his own eyes and, frequently, in the eyes of others — from the responsibility of having to act to solve organization problems.
It is not sufficient, though, to stop with the explanation of negative fantasies as the basis for the inability of organizations to cope with agreement. We must look deeper and ask still other questions: What is the source of the negative fantasies? Why do they occur?
Risk is a reality of life, a condition of existence. John Kennedy articulated it in another way when he said at a news conference, "Life is unfair." By that I believe he meant to say that we do not know, nor can we predict or control with certainty, either the events that impinge upon us or the outcomes of actions we undertake in response to those events.
Consequently, in the business environment, the research manager might find that telling the president and the vice-president that the project was a "turkey" might result in his being fired. And Mr. Porter may have been ostracized as a non–team player for saying that an illegal plan of surveillance should not be carried out. There are too many cases in which confrontation of this sort has resulted in such consequences. The real question, though, is not "Are such fantasized consequences possible?" but "Are such fantasized consequences likely?"
Thus, real risk is an existential condition. All actions have consequences that — to paraphrase Hamlet — may be worse than the evils of the present. However, as a result of their unwillingness to accept existential risk as one of life's givens, people may opt to take their organizations to Abilene rather than run the risk — no matter how small — of ending up somewhere worse.
Again, though, one must ask: What is the real risk that underlies the decision to opt for Abilene? What is at the core of the paradox?
It is tempting to say that the core of the paradox lies in the individual's fear of the unknown. Actually, however, we do not fear what is unknown, but we are afraid of things we do know about. What do we know about that frightens us into such apparently inexplicable organizational behavior?
Separation, alienation, and loneliness are things we do know about — and so is fear. Both research and experience indicate that ostracism is one of the most powerful punishments that can be devised. Solitary confinement does not draw its coercive strength from physical deprivation. The evidence is overwhelming that we have a fundamental need to be connected, engaged, and related and a reciprocal need not to be separated or alone. Every one of us, though, has experienced aloneness. From the time the umbilical cord was cut, we have experienced the real anguish of separation — broken friendships, divorces, deaths, and exclusions. C.P. Snow vividly described the tragic interplay between loneliness and connection:
Each of us is alone; sometimes we escape from our solitariness, through love and affection or perhaps creative moments, but these triumphs of life are pools of light we make for ourselves while the edge of the road is black. Each of us dies alone.[25]
The fear of taking risks that may result in our separation from others is at the core of the paradox. It finds expression in ways of which we may be unaware, and it is ultimately the cause of the self-defeating, collective deception that leads to self-destructive decisions within organizations.
Concretely, such fear of separation leads research committees to fund projects that none of its members want and, perhaps, leads White House staff members to engage in illegal activities that they don't really support.
One landmark of the map is still missing. It relates to the peculiar reversal that occurs in our thought processes as we try to cope with the Abilene Paradox. For example, we frequently fail to take action in an organizational setting because we fear that the actions we take may result in our separation from others, or, in the language of Mr. Porter , because we are afraid of being tabbed as "disloyal" or being ostracized as "non-team players." But therein lies a paradox within a paradox, because our very unwillingness to take such risks virtually ensures the separation and aloneness we so fear. In effect, we reverse real existential risk and fantasied risk and by doing so transform a probability statement into what, for all practical purposes, becomes a certainty.
Take the R&D organization described earlier. When the project fails, some people will get fired, demoted, or sentenced to the purgatory of a make-work job in an out-of-the-way office. For those who remain, the atmosphere of blame, distrust, suspicion, and backbiting that accompanies such failure will serve only to further alienate and separate them.
The Watergate situation is similar. The principals evidently feared being ostracized as disloyal non-team players. When the illegality of the act surfaced, however, it was nearly inevitable that blaming, self-protective actions and scapegoating would result in the very emotional separation from both the president and one another that the principals feared. Thus, by reversing real and fantasied risk, they effectively had ensured the outcome they least desired.
One final question remains: Why do we make this peculiar reversal? I support the general thesis of Alvin Toffler and Philip Slater, who contend that our cultural emphasis on technology, competition, individualism, temporariness, and mobility has resulted in a population that has frequently experienced the terror of loneliness and seldom the satisfaction of engagement. Consequently, though we have learned of the reality of separation, we have not had the opportunity to learn the reciprocal skills of connection, with the result that, like the ancient dinosaurs, we are breeding organizations with self-destructive decision-making proclivities.
Existential risk is inherent in living, so it is impossible to provide a map that meets the no-risk criterion. But it may be possible to describe the route in terms that make the landmarks understandable and that will clarify the risks involved. In order to do that, however, some commonly used terms — such as victim, victimizer, collusion, responsibility, conflict, conformity, courage, confrontation, reality, and knowledge — have to be redefined. In addition, we need to explore the relevance of the redefined concepts for bypassing or getting out of Abilene.
Victim and Victimizer. Blaming and fault-finding behavior is one of the basic symptoms of organizations that have found their way to Abilene, and those who criticize generally don't include themselves as targets of blame. In other words, executives begin to assign one another to the roles of victims and victimizers. Ironic as it may seem, however, this assignment of roles is both irrelevant and dysfunctional, because once a business or a government fails to manage its agreement and arrives in Abilene, all of its members are victims. Thus, arguments and accusations that identify victims and victimizers, at best, become symptoms of the paradox, and, at worst, drain energy from the problem-solving efforts required to redirect the organization along the route it really wants to take.
Collusion. A basic implication of the Abilene Paradox is that human problems of organization are reciprocal in nature. As Robert Tannenbaum has pointed out, you can't have an autocratic boss unless subordinates are willing to collude with his autocracy, and you can't have obsequious subordinates unless the boss is willing to collude with their obsequiousness.[26]
Thus, in plain terms, each person in a self-defeating, Abilene-bound organization consciously or unconsciously colludes with others — peers, superiors, and subordinates — to create the dilemma in which the organization finds itself. To adapt a cliché about modern organizations: "It takes a real team effort to go to Abilene." In that sense, each person, in his own collusive manner, shares responsibility for the trip. Hence, searching for a locus of blame outside oneself serves no useful purpose for either the organization or the individual. It neither helps the organization handle its dilemma of unrecognized agreement nor provides psychological relief for the individual, because focusing on conflict when agreement is the issue is devoid of reality. Far from providing relief, the orgy of blaming causes the organization to focus on managing conflict when it should be focusing on managing agreement.
Responsibility for Problem-Solving Action. Who is responsible for getting us out of this place? To that question is frequently appended another rhetorical "should" question: Isn't it the boss — or the ranking government official — who is responsible for doing something about the situation?
The answer to the second question is no. The key to understanding why the "no" answer is functional is the knowledge that, when the dynamics of the paradox are in operation, the authority figure and others are in unknowing agreement with one another concerning the organization's problems and the steps necessary to solve them. Consequently, the power to destroy the pernicious influence of the paradox comes from confronting and addressing the underlying reality of the situation, not from one's hierarchical position within the organization. Therefore, any organization member who chooses to risk confronting that reality possesses the necessary leverage to release the organization from the grip of the paradox.
In one situation, salvation may require a research director to say, "I don't think this project can succeed." In another, it may be Jeb Magruder's response to this question of Senator Baker:
If you were concerned because the action was known to you to be illegal, because you thought it improper or unethical, you thought the prospects for success were very meager, and you doubted the reliability of Mr. Liddy, what on earth would it have taken to decide against the plan?
Magruder's reply was brief and to the point:
Not very much, sir. I am sure that if I had fought vigorously against it, I think any of us could have had the plan cancelled.
Reality, Knowledge, and Confrontation. Accepting the paradox as a model that describes certain organizational dilemmas also requires rethinking the nature of reality and knowledge as they are generally described in organizations. In brief, the underlying dynamics of the paradox clearly indicate that organization members generally know more about issues confronting the organization than they don't know. The various principals attending the research budget meeting, for example, knew that the research project was doomed to failure. And Jeb Magruder spoke as a true Abilener when he said, "We knew it was illegal, probably, inappropriate."[27]
Given this concept of reality and its relationship to knowledge, confrontation becomes the process of facing issues squarely, openly, and directly in an effort to discover whether the nature of the underlying collective reality is agreement or conflict. Accepting such a definition of confrontation has an important implication for change agents who are interested in making organizations more effective. That is, organizational change and effectiveness may be facilitated as much by confronting the organization with what it knows and agrees upon as by confronting it with what it doesn't know or disagrees about.
Conflict is a part of any organizational relationship. Couples, R&D divisions, and White House staffs all engage in it. However, analysis of the Abilene Paradox opens up the possibility of two kinds of conflict — real and phony. On the surface, the two types of conflict look alike, but — like varieties of headache — they have different causes and therefore require different treatment.
Real conflict occurs when people have real differences: "My reading of the research printouts says that we can make the project profitable" versus "I come to the opposite conclusion" or "I suggest we 'bug' the Watergate" versus "I'm not in favor of it."
Phony conflict occurs in the Abilene Paradox because people agree on the actions they want to take and then do the opposite. The resulting anger, frustration, and scapegoating — generally termed conflict — are not based on real differences. Rather, they stem from the protective reactions that occur when a decision that no one believed in or was committed to in the first place goes sour. In fact, as a paradox within a paradox, such conflict is symptomatic of agreement!
An understanding of the dynamics of the Abilene Paradox also requires a reorientation in thinking about concepts such as "group tyranny" — the loss of the individual's distinctiveness in a group and the impact of conformity pressures on individual behavior in organizations.
Group tyranny and its result, individual conformity, generally refer to the coercive effect of group pressures on individual behavior. Sometimes referred to as "groupthink," it has been damned as the cause for everything from the lack of creativity in organizations ("A camel is a horse designed by a committee") to antisocial behavior in juveniles ("My Johnny is a good boy; he was just pressured into shop-lifting by the kids he runs around with").
However, an analysis of the dynamics underlying the Abilene Paradox opens up the possibility that individuals frequently feel as if they are experiencing coercive organizational pressures to conform when they actually are responding to the dynamics of mismanaged agreement. Conceptualizing, experiencing, and responding to such experiences as reflecting the tyrannical pressures of a group again serves an important psychological use for the individual: As noted previously, it releases the person from the responsibility of taking action and thus becomes a defense against action. Thus, much behavior within an organization that heretofore has been conceptualized as reflecting the tyranny of conformity pressures is really an expression of collective anxiety and therefore must be reconceptualized as a defense against acting.
In a later chapter, I will deal fully with an American myth that provides an excellent example of such faulty conceptualization. The myth involves the heroic sheriff in the classic Western movie who stands alone in the jail-house door and singlehandedly protects a suspected (and usually innocent) horsethief or murderer from the irrational, tyrannical forces of group behavior — that is, an armed lynch mob. Generally, as a part of the ritual, he threatens to blow off the head of anyone who takes a step toward the door. Few ever take the challenge, and the reason is not the sheriffs six-shooter. What good would one pistol be against an armed mob of several hundred people who really want to hang somebody? Thus, the gun, in fact, serves as a face-saving measure for people who don't wish to participate in a hanging anyway. ("We had to back off. The sheriff threatened to blow our heads off.")
The situation is one that involves agreement management. A careful investigator canvassing the crowd under conditions in which the anonymity of the interviewees' responses could be guaranteed would probably find (1) that few of the individuals in the crowd really wanted to take part in the hanging; (2) that each person's participation came about because he perceived, falsely, that others wanted to do so; and (3) that each person was afraid that others in the crowd would ostracize or in some other way punish him if he did not go along.
Most individuals like quick, "clean," "no-risk" solutions to organizational problems. Furthermore, they tend to prefer solutions based on mechanics and technology, rather than on attitudes of "being." Unfortunately, the underlying reality of the paradox makes it impossible to provide either no-risk solutions or action technologies that are divorced from existential attitudes and realities. I do, however, have two sets of suggestions for dealing with these situations. One set relates to diagnosing the situation, the other to confronting it.
When faced with the possibility that the paradox is operating, one must first make a diagnosis of the situation, and the key to diagnosis is an answer to the question: Is the organization involved in a conflict-management or an agreement-management situation? As an organization member, I have found it relatively easy to make a preliminary diagnosis of whether an organization is on the way to Abilene or is involved in legitimate, substantive conflict by responding to the organization diagnostic survey shown in the box on page 31. If the response to the first statement is "not characteristic," the organization is probably not in Abilene or in conflict. If the response is "characteristic," the organization has a problem of either real or phony conflict, and the responses to the succeeding statements will help determine which it is.
In brief, for reasons that should be apparent from the theory discussed here, the more times the response is "characteristic," the more likely that the organization is on its way to Abilene. In practical terms, a process for managing agreement is the required remedy. Finally, if the response to the first statement falls into the "characteristic" category and most of the other responses fall into the "not characteristic" category, one may be relatively sure that the organization is in a real conflict situation and that some son of conflict management is in order.
Assuming that a preliminary diagnosis indicates that an organization is on the way to Abilene, the individual organization member may choose to confront the situation actively to determine directly whether the underlying reality is agreement or conflict. The confrontation probably will be most effective if it occurs in a group setting. Working within the context of a group is important, because the dynamics of the Abilene Paradox involve collusion among group members. Therefore, trying to solve the dilemma by working with individuals and small subgroups would involve further collusion and repetition of the dynamics that led to the paradox. The basic approach involves gathering together organization members who are key figures in both the problem and its solution.
The first step in the meeting is for the individual who called the meeting — that is, the confronter — to own up to his or her position first and be open to the consequent feedback. The owning-up process lets the others know that the confronter is concerned that the organization may be making a decision contrary to the desires of any of its members. A statement such as the following demonstrates the beginning of such an approach:
I want to talk with you about the research project. Although I have previously said things to the contrary, I frankly don't think it will work, and I am very anxious about it. I suspect others may feel the same, but I don't know. Anyway, I am concerned that I may end up misleading you and that we may end up misleading one another, and if we aren't careful, we may continue to work on a project that none of us wants and that might even bankrupt us. That's why I need to know where the rest of you stand. I would appreciate any of your thoughts about the project. Do you think it can succeed?
What kinds of results can the confronter expect? I have found that the results can be divided into two categories: technical and existential. I have also found that for the person who initiates the confrontation, the existential experience takes precedence in the ultimate evaluation of the outcome of the action.
Technical Results. If the presence of the paradox has been correctly diagnosed, I have found that the solution to the technical problem may be almost absurdly quick and simple — something on the order of: "Do you mean that we have all been dragging along with a research project that none of us has thought would work? It's crazy. I can't believe we would do it, but we did. Let's figure out how we can cancel it and get to doing something productive."
The simplicity and rapidity of such a solution frequently don't seem possible to most of us, because we have been trained to believe that the solution to conflict requires a long, arduous process of debilitating problem solving.
Also, since existential risk is always present, it is possible that the diagnosis was incorrect, and the process of confrontation lifts to the level of public examination of real, substantive conflict, which may result in heated debates about technology, personalities, and/or administrative approaches. There is evidence that such debates, properly managed, can be the basis for creativity in organizational problem solving. There is also the possibility, however, that such debates cannot be managed and — substantiating the concept of existential risk — that the person who initiates the risk may get fired or ostracized. But that, again, leads to the necessity of evaluating the results of such confrontation at the existential level.
Existential Results. Evaluating the outcome of confrontation within an existential framework is quite different from evaluating it from a set of technical criteria. I have reached this conclusion simply by interviewing a variety of people who have chosen to confront the paradox and listening to their responses. In short, the psychological success and failure of Abilene Paradox confrontation apparently are divorced from what are traditionally accepted in organizations as criteria for success and failure.
For instance, some examples of success are described when people are asked, "What happened when you confronted the issue?" One person may answer: "I was told we had enough boat rockers in the organization, and I got fired. It hurt at first, but in retrospect it was the greatest day of my life. I've got another job and I'm delighted. I'm a free man." Another description of success might be: "I said I don't think the research project can succeed and the others looked shocked and quickly agreed. The upshot of the whole deal is that I got a promotion and am now known as a 'rising star.' It was the high point of my career."
Similarly, those who fail to confront the paradox describe failure in terms that are divorced from technical results. For example, one may report: "I didn't say anything, and we rocked along until the whole thing exploded and Joe got fired. There is still a lot of tension in the organization, and we are still in trouble, but I got a good performance review last time. I still feel lousy about the whole thing, though." From a different viewpoint, an individual may describe the feeling of failure in these words: "I knew I should have said something and I didn't. When the project failed, I was a convenient whipping boy. I got demoted. I still have a job, but my future here is definitely limited. In a way I deserve what I got, but it doesn't make it any easier to accept because of that."
Most important, the act of confrontation apparently provides intrinsic psychological satisfaction, regardless of the technological outcomes for those who attempt it. The real meaning of that existential experience, and its relevance to a wide variety of organizations, may lie, therefore, not in the scientific analysis of decision making but in an understanding of the plight of Sisyphus. That is something readers will have to decide for themselves.
As you may remember, Sisyphus was condemned by Pluto to a perpetuity of pushing a large stone to the top of a mountain, only to see it return to its original position when he released it. As Camus suggested in his revision of the myth, the task of Sisyphus was absurd and totally devoid of meaning. For most of us, though, the lives we lead — pushing papers or hubcaps — are no less absurd, and in many ways we probably spend about as much time "pushing rocks" in our organizations as Sisyphus did in his.
Camus also points out, though, that on occasion, as Sisyphus released his rock and watched it return to its resting place at the bottom of the hill, he was able to recognize the absurdity of his lot and, for brief periods of time, transcend it.
So it may be with confronting the Abilene Paradox. Confronting the absurd paradox of agreement may provide, through activity, what Sisyphus gained from his passive but conscious acceptance of his fate. Thus, through the process of active confrontation with reality, we may take respite from pushing our rocks on their endless journeys and, for brief moments, experience what C.P. Snow termed "the triumphs of life we make for ourselves"[28] within those absurdities we call organizations.
[1] See Larry McMurtry's book, In a Narrow Grave (Austin, Tex.: Encino Press, 1968), for an explanation of why Texans rely on scatology when experiencing stress. In the original version of this chapter, published in Organizational Dynamics, the word "hell" was substituted. The substitution occurred because the editor and I shared a negative fantasy that our reputations, the credibility of the journal, and the morality of its subscribers would be irreparably damaged by such straightforward Texas terminology.