A couple of weeks ago I spoke on innovation at a conference on that theme for the civil construction sector. One of the many fascinating things about creativity is its need for the right conditions before it can emerge - both in our brain and in our organisations.
The brain is a very energy-hungry organ: just 2% of our body weight, it appropriates 20% of our energy intake to fuel its work. Yet oddly, when we're daydreaming or even just staring vacantly into space, its energy use is much higher than when we're intensively focused on a task. This intensive focus is important and productive, and when in that project execution mode, we feel satisfyingly efficient - but we're not necessarily being creative, as Gay Claxton noted many years ago in his marvellous book, Hare Brain, Tortoise Mind.
By contrast, when we're in "vacant" mode, a number of major areas in the brain start working together in what neuroscientists now call the "default network", when the brain seizes the opportunity to get back to its most important work - sifting, sorting and finding patterns in the vast amounts of sensory input that bombards us every day. It's not surprising, then, that brain science and studies of famous thinkers and modern innovators are leading us to the conclusion that this default mode is a key supporting condition for creativity to emerge.
One example is that of the eminent German chemist Kekule, who for many years had been trying to work out the structure of the benzene molecule. Giving up on his research one winter's afternoon, he left his desk and sat in an armchair in front of the fire. Dozing off in comfort, he envisioned a snake with its tail in its mouth - and awoke to realise he'd solved the problem: the snake represented the benzene ring.
Even with such insights, however, our moments of inspiration can wither and die without the right organizational support. It's too easy to think that bright ideas are all we need, but while they're necessary, they're not sufficient. Stephen Shapiro says that companies wanting to nurture creativity must dedicate a budget and set up supporting processes to bring bright ideas to maturation. Norman Chorn suggests organizations also need a CCO - a Chief Creativity Officer. This person needn't be burdened with the responsibility of being the source of all of a company's creativity, but he or she does need to understand and support the creative and entrepreneurial processes that Chorn and Shapiro talk about.
So after several months of intense work leading up to the Frankfurt Book Fair, I'm about to give my default network some dedicated time by going on a week-long meditation retreat. And I'll be taking a notebook with me....
Find out more about Guy Claxton's thinking here. And click on their names to find out more about the work of
Stephen Shapiro and Norman Chorn.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Huffington Post gets a green blog
My friend and colleague Mark Hostetler has started a blog on green development for the Huffington post. Focused on urban environments, where most of us in the world now live, it is chatty, interesting and very informative.
One of Mark's recent blogs is based on his book "That gunk on your car: a unique guide to the insects of North America" and is not only hilarious but very educational - did you know there is a real scientific reason why insects are fatally attracted to cars?
He also reveals how America's suburban lawns can be a major threat to ecosystems - even those far away from urban centres and, as I am a major fan of evaluating the effectiveness of plans and programs, I was delighted to see his recent series on evaluating green communities.
You can read Mark's blogs here. And I think I'll follow them....
One of Mark's recent blogs is based on his book "That gunk on your car: a unique guide to the insects of North America" and is not only hilarious but very educational - did you know there is a real scientific reason why insects are fatally attracted to cars?
He also reveals how America's suburban lawns can be a major threat to ecosystems - even those far away from urban centres and, as I am a major fan of evaluating the effectiveness of plans and programs, I was delighted to see his recent series on evaluating green communities.
You can read Mark's blogs here. And I think I'll follow them....
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Science and sustainability win the day at Ellerslie International Flower Show
The destruction of much of this beautiful city as a result of the devastating series of earthquakes has led to a great deal of community reflection on how to rebuild, and locals have expressed a strong desire for a greener central city. In its exhibition Landcare Research showcased some possibilities for introducing more indigenous plants into urban areas, including pocket parks, living walls, green roofs and natural water treatment. The exhibition showed how people, nature and sustainable urban water management can be drawn together in a way while restoring some of the plants and wildlife that have been lost during the city's development.
Find out more about Colin's award-winning garden here and here.
And another science-based exhibit, also a crowd favorite and winner of the Judge's Supreme Award, was 'Max's Pipe Dream, An Engineer's Garden'. Designed by Paul Roper-Gee of Beca (a major engineering consultancy), the garden won three awards and was the clear-cut winner for the Supreme Award, being fun, innovative and with great styling. Everyone loved the garden for its connection with the Mackenzie Country's hydro engineering landscape. Click here and here to find out more.
These awards are great news for the science of urban sustainability, showing how people, plants and animals can all enjoy attractive urban landscapes.
Monday, February 20, 2012
"Lucky break" - a scientist sings about restoring ecosystems
Art and science are definitely coming closer together, if recent articles in New Scientist magazine are anything to go by. Of course the beauty of the natural world has always inspired painting, poetry, photography and music - and it's great to see scientists themselves contributing to this work.
Dr John Quinn is a principal scientist at NIWA, New Zealand's National Institute of Water and Atmospheric Research and he specializes in freshwater ecology and biodiversity. A few weeks ago we were swapping good sources of information and he sent me a link. I'd forgotten that John and his guitar are seldom separated, and the link goes to a song he wrote on the plane after attending the 4th World Conference of the Society for Ecological Restoration in Mexico in August 2011. Inspired by hearing Imelda May at the Bunbury Blues and Roots Festival, John penned and performed a great blues number that is also a call for ecological restoration.
Entitled "Lucky break", John's song celebrates the Earth's ecosystems that support us and asks why we're gambling with their health when the stakes are so high. It's a great blues number - click here to see him perform it.
Interestingly, in December last year, three of my friends and colleagues from elsewhere in New Zealand and overseas were in Auckland to attend the 25th International Congress for Conservation Biology (ICCB 2011). They were much struck by a discussion about "conservation grief syndrome": scientists are only human and do become despondent about how much is to be done if we are to continue to enjoy the beauty and benefits of nature and the plants, birds, fish, insects and animals that contribute to our emotional, psychological, spiritual, cultural and economic wellbeing.
Writing this up now reminds me of an observation from a friend who regularly takes long cycling trips in little-traveled parts of the world: he said that all the biologists he meets are very depressed about the state of the environment, while all the economists are very upbeat.
This happened a number of years ago, so it's great to see a vigorous and spreading discussion all round the world about the need for our economic system to address social, cultural and environmental wellbeing.
Dr John Quinn is a principal scientist at NIWA, New Zealand's National Institute of Water and Atmospheric Research and he specializes in freshwater ecology and biodiversity. A few weeks ago we were swapping good sources of information and he sent me a link. I'd forgotten that John and his guitar are seldom separated, and the link goes to a song he wrote on the plane after attending the 4th World Conference of the Society for Ecological Restoration in Mexico in August 2011. Inspired by hearing Imelda May at the Bunbury Blues and Roots Festival, John penned and performed a great blues number that is also a call for ecological restoration.
Entitled "Lucky break", John's song celebrates the Earth's ecosystems that support us and asks why we're gambling with their health when the stakes are so high. It's a great blues number - click here to see him perform it.
Interestingly, in December last year, three of my friends and colleagues from elsewhere in New Zealand and overseas were in Auckland to attend the 25th International Congress for Conservation Biology (ICCB 2011). They were much struck by a discussion about "conservation grief syndrome": scientists are only human and do become despondent about how much is to be done if we are to continue to enjoy the beauty and benefits of nature and the plants, birds, fish, insects and animals that contribute to our emotional, psychological, spiritual, cultural and economic wellbeing.
Writing this up now reminds me of an observation from a friend who regularly takes long cycling trips in little-traveled parts of the world: he said that all the biologists he meets are very depressed about the state of the environment, while all the economists are very upbeat.
This happened a number of years ago, so it's great to see a vigorous and spreading discussion all round the world about the need for our economic system to address social, cultural and environmental wellbeing.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Reflecting on rivers - don't let the engineers talk you out of doing it!
Here I am in the city of Hamilton, in the heart of one of New Zealand's biggest dairying regions, in a hotel room looking down on the magnificent Waikato River. Crossed by a number of bridges in the city centre, it is increasingly becoming a community focal point: it's been lovely watching all the people walking and cycling across it - a steady stream of people walking and cycling home from work, giving way to lots of joggers, cyclists and walkers exercising in sight of the water, then to groups of people more dressed up walking into town to catch a movie or dine out - many groups of friends and couples hand in hand - it's been absolutely delightful.
The 6th Biennial Conference of the NZAEE, or New Zealand Association of Environmental Education, has drawn me here, and we all guffawed when yesterday's keynote speaker, Les Robinson, told us about Saskatchewan (at least I think it was Saskatchewan - anyhow, I just wanted to spell it again - what a great name!) - someone at the conference had pointed out how Hamilton, like so many river cities, had turned its back on its river and was only just starting to turn towards it again. Les told the story of the mayor of Saskatchewan, who took a more revolutionary than evolutionary approach to this and simply sent in the bulldozers.
When asked about the boldness of this move, she apparently said it needed to be done, so why wait - and advised, "Don't let the engineers talk you out of doing it!"
Hilarious! Mind you, most of the engineers I know love bulldozers, and so do I! Any big rigs, in fact. Yesterday I treated myself by buying two children's books to bring along to my training workshops for a bit of light relief - "The Little Yellow Digger" by Betty & Alan Gilderdale and "A Bigger Digger" by Brett Avison, to go with the magnificent yellow dump truck I got from the Caterpillar store in Peoria, Illinois a couple of years ago. (And no, I don't play with it on the floor, but ask people to put their business cards in it!)
Watching the stately Waikato flow under the very high bridge spanning deeply cliffed banks is quite hypnotic - it moves at a fast but steady pace, with endlessly changing whorls and lines that hint at the water's massive power. Being a pounding surf type myself, and a physical geographer to boot, I find big rivers frankly terrifying.
The Waikato reminded me forcibly of one of the upper reaches of the Mississippi at Peoria, also a river town. I walked along the river for some way and gazed at it for ages - it is immensely wide, even that far North, and the cute paddle-steamer reminded me of Mark Twain and all the people working on that enormous river. When I found some steps down to a pontoon, I overcame my trepidation to walk down and stand on it - but the sensation of its movements as the deep, black water coiled its way underneath was too much for me, and after a matter of seconds my nerve failed me and I scampered as fast as I could back onto terra firma.
Many years ago when Mum and Dad were taking us kids on a family holiday, my father pointed out the broken concrete spans of an old bridge in a braided river bed - the protruding steel reinforcing rods had been pointing upstream, but over the years had been curled back like fingers in a fist by the flood flows. "That's the power of water," he said. And I've never forgotten it!
Click here to find out more about the NZAEE and here to find out about this year's conference - there are similar associations in many other countries - here's the Australian one, for a start.
And click here to find out more about the laconic, deceptively funny and very inspiring Les Robinson.
The 6th Biennial Conference of the NZAEE, or New Zealand Association of Environmental Education, has drawn me here, and we all guffawed when yesterday's keynote speaker, Les Robinson, told us about Saskatchewan (at least I think it was Saskatchewan - anyhow, I just wanted to spell it again - what a great name!) - someone at the conference had pointed out how Hamilton, like so many river cities, had turned its back on its river and was only just starting to turn towards it again. Les told the story of the mayor of Saskatchewan, who took a more revolutionary than evolutionary approach to this and simply sent in the bulldozers.
When asked about the boldness of this move, she apparently said it needed to be done, so why wait - and advised, "Don't let the engineers talk you out of doing it!"
Hilarious! Mind you, most of the engineers I know love bulldozers, and so do I! Any big rigs, in fact. Yesterday I treated myself by buying two children's books to bring along to my training workshops for a bit of light relief - "The Little Yellow Digger" by Betty & Alan Gilderdale and "A Bigger Digger" by Brett Avison, to go with the magnificent yellow dump truck I got from the Caterpillar store in Peoria, Illinois a couple of years ago. (And no, I don't play with it on the floor, but ask people to put their business cards in it!)
Watching the stately Waikato flow under the very high bridge spanning deeply cliffed banks is quite hypnotic - it moves at a fast but steady pace, with endlessly changing whorls and lines that hint at the water's massive power. Being a pounding surf type myself, and a physical geographer to boot, I find big rivers frankly terrifying.
The Waikato reminded me forcibly of one of the upper reaches of the Mississippi at Peoria, also a river town. I walked along the river for some way and gazed at it for ages - it is immensely wide, even that far North, and the cute paddle-steamer reminded me of Mark Twain and all the people working on that enormous river. When I found some steps down to a pontoon, I overcame my trepidation to walk down and stand on it - but the sensation of its movements as the deep, black water coiled its way underneath was too much for me, and after a matter of seconds my nerve failed me and I scampered as fast as I could back onto terra firma.
Many years ago when Mum and Dad were taking us kids on a family holiday, my father pointed out the broken concrete spans of an old bridge in a braided river bed - the protruding steel reinforcing rods had been pointing upstream, but over the years had been curled back like fingers in a fist by the flood flows. "That's the power of water," he said. And I've never forgotten it!
Click here to find out more about the NZAEE and here to find out about this year's conference - there are similar associations in many other countries - here's the Australian one, for a start.
And click here to find out more about the laconic, deceptively funny and very inspiring Les Robinson.
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