On why organisations are like platypuses
Our organisations are much like the platypus, a collection of specialist adaptations.
In 1927, Harry Burrell reflecting on the various complex adaptive specialisations of the platypus, concluded that because they are simple creatures, they can’t rely on the flexibility of intelligence to overcome the problems they encounter in the environment. In response, the platypus has developed unique structures to deal with each new situation, by way contrast ‘Man’ is considered to have the superior approach:
Man…has escaped the need for specialisation because his evolution has been projected outside himself into an evolution of tools and weapons. Other animals in need of tools and weapons must evolve them from their own body parts; we therefore frequently find a specialised adaptation to environmental needs grafted on to primitive simplicity of structure.
As Stephen Jay Gould points out, the platypus is damned by Burrell to be either primitive because of its odd appearance or implicitly simple because it is highly specialised.
The platypus is highly specialised for its environment. It is streamlined and extremely quick through the water, propelled by alternate kicks of its front legs. The tail and partially webbed rear legs provide steerage. To feed, it anchors the back legs and digs with its front legs, while the bill uses highly developed olfactory senses to sift for food and identify obstacles. The platypus bill has been likened to the human hand in function and dexterity. The males have a sharp poison spur on their ankles used in combat. These are only some of the many specialisations of the platypus.
Our organisations are much like the platypus, a collection of specialist adaptations. While man, according to Burrell, may have transcended specialisation through superior brain power, when collected into organisations, the whole looks more like a platypus than a man.
Organisations have specialist functions central to maintaining internal systems, finding revenue, interacting with the environment, courting customers and fighting competitors. Consequently, judging the capacity and capability of an organisation is only possible by understanding the environment in which it has evolved and is currently operating.
Unfortunately, we are more like Burrell when it comes to assessing the capability of organisations. This one is better than that one because it is more innovative. This one is better than that because it is more agile. This one is better than that one because it is more entrepreneurial, smaller, larger, resilient, friendlier, or ….
We look to these individual specialisations and judge them, often separately, from the rest of the organisation and its environment. Worse, there is an implicit assumption that similar success is assured by superficially replicating the successful adaptation of another organisation. Business history is littered with failed adaptations of this sort. Failure comes from not understanding that the specialism being copied is embedded in a broader system that must be reproduced.
Strangely, when we portray specialisation within the organisation at the individual level, we begin to take on Burrell’s view of innate human inventiveness. Here, we begin to value the generalist over the specialist.
The inventive generalist is seen to be pitted against the narrow specialist as the prime driver of moving the organisation forward. The generalist sees connections and inventively challenges existing ways of doing business. At the same time, the stodgy specialist is portrayed as an outdated expert who has withdrawn into making a narrow contribution—the specialist is seen to be focused on defending expertise rather than creating new connections.
The fact is that all people in our organisations are specialists of one sort or another. Organisations deliberately develop different skills because the knowledge required for successful operation is generated by an ecology of specialists who, at their best, cooperate to grow new knowledge and participate in a system that coordinates their actions to produce a collective outcome.
Valuing generalists (if such a thing exists) over specialists is akin to the platypus valuing propulsion over sensing. The effective combination of specialist functions is critical because it increases organisational capability.
So, where does that leave us?
Organisations, like platypuses, are a collection of specialist functions that look strange when viewed in isolation but which, when considered in context, make a lot more sense.
Consequently, replicating specialist adaptations without understanding the broader relationship between the organisation and environment in which the specialist function has been developed and the systems that support it will most likely lead to failure.
Internally, we are all specialists, so the recurring conversation of generalists versus specialists is a distraction.
The systems that support the ecology of specialists to cooperate and coordinate to produce better outcomes are central to success, so the conversation could be more productively focused on achieving that outcome.
Source: Stephen Jay Gould, 'To be a platypus', Bully For Brontosaurus, 1991, p. 278.
