Sometimes I’m hard pressed to understand why I read what I do. What is it that actually interests me about some stories? Then, after a while, I see that it isn’t the content per se but rather the narrative which keeps me engaged and draws me along. Of the handful of narratives that mesmerize me, the recursive innovation narrative (or back to future story) stands out.
In this narrative, innovation comes about by rediscovering something that has been lost along the way. Typically, the loss occurs because popular or commercial interest becomes caught up with an idea that, in the long run, is either revealed or proven to be false. Or one idea has become so widespread that it crowds out another idea that is equally, if not more, important. The innovation lies in reclaiming or reasserting the thing that was once known but became lost in the process.
Here are two stories of recursive innovation:
Running Redux
Humans are born runners. The combination of an ability to cool ourselves through perspiration (rather than panting as other animals do) and the “springiness” of our legs allowed humans to outlast their prey when it came to running. So, why is it that close to 80% of all contemporary runners suffer injuries each year despite specially engineered running shoes, running surfaces, and training regimes? And why is it that in some cultures which lack all of these advantages, people we would consider elderly can run 100-mile races as a matter of course?
Christopher McDougall believes “…we don’t need smarter shoes, we need smarter feet” He has resurrected an exercise routine that rewires the brain and the body to run the way that nature intended – the 100-Up Exercise. An undeniably simple routine, the 100-Up (see the YouTube video) is a three-minute exercise that upends modern running dogma. It isn’t about the shoes, the surface, the intensive training – it’s about rediscovering the way that humans were born to run.
So when and where did it go wrong? Apparently, not so long ago and also apparently, the commercial shoe industry in the U.S. played a major role in leading runners astray. In the 1970s and 80s, runners became obsessed with the notion that the proper running shoe was the key to great running because the biggest problem with running was heel-strike impact. The first inkling that the shoe solution to heel-strike impact might be wrong came when researchers began to observe barefoot runners. What they noticed was that barefoot runners did not land on their heels, but rather, on the balls of their feet. This was not a shoe-problem, but a form problem. However, ingrained notions of running are difficult to dislodge and even though barefoot running has taken off, it is still shoe- rather than form-focused for the most part. The biggest evidence of shoe-bias is the invention of those strange looking glove-like shoes. You can shell out the bucks for Vibram Five-Fingers, but if you are still running heel first, you are highly likely to injure yourself. According to those who practice the new method informed by 100-Up, you can run with the shoes you already have because it’s not the shoes, it’s the way you run that matters.
Apples Lost and Found
The apple as a healthy snack is a relatively new invention. Apples have been around a long time (from a human civilization perspective), but up to the Civil War period they were primarily used as either feedstock for animals or an alternative to water in the form of hard cider for humans because apples were not particularly tasty to eat. Prohibition was especially bad for apples (hard cider was alcoholic), and it was during this period that they got a PR makeover with an adage promoting their health (“An apple a day keeps the doctor away”) and an agricultural focus on propagating better tasting varieties. Before industrial scale refrigeration, most people enjoyed local apples and there are a multitude of types associated with particular geographies.
Some Fun Apples (Esopus Spitzenberg and Yellow Newton Pippin):
However, with the advent of refrigerated rail cars, apples could be transported over long distances. Refrigeration and the rise of the national grocery chain combined to promote the apple attributes of durability, long shelf life and aesthetic appeal. As a result, the plethora of apple species dwindled to three – McIntosh, Red Delicious and Golden Delicious — and apples as a local treat gave way to the national grocery produce staple. Apple breeding increasingly focused on making sure apples looked rather than tasted good. We all know how delicious apples can look and how disappointing they can taste. That shiny, beautiful outside masking a mushy, mealy, flavorless inside. This is how it came to be that Americans now consume about half the amount of apples as their European counterparts.
The sorry state of affairs persisted for some time until a confluence of events turned the tide to favor a tasty apple with great texture and crunch. In the 1970s, several new apple varieties – so called “super apples” – were imported from outside the U.S. and began to be cultivated here. At the same time, price controls were imposed to help the U.S. deal with stagflation, but produce was exempt from this constraint creating an opening for these new apples. Americans got a taste of delicious, but less than perfectly formed apples and loved them. Once again, the apple as a flavorful, nutritious food found in many varieties was back on the scene and apple consumption began to increase.
Recursive Innovation
The article from which my much abbreviated apple mini-history is derived goes on to describe the equally fascinating business model of patenting and controlling the production of apple varieties. But what struck me as I read about apples past and present was how much it reminded me of the story about running. The themes in both stories are the same. In the push to scale an innovation, to achieve industrial capacity, a critical artisanal element was lost, left by the wayside because its importance was not understood. This element would turn out to be a sustainability factor which had to be rediscovered in order to breathe life back into the innovation.
I am not suggesting that the sustainability factor is always apparent. Clearly if people knew what it was they would not so casually allow it to be jettisoned in favor of other elements which might turn out to be helpful for a time, but ultimately outlive their usefulness. Yet this challenge – knowing what to discard and what to retain – remains a key challenge of innovation.
As we come to the close of the year, this question – what to hold onto and what to let go of as we move ahead – has particular resonance, both organizationally and individually. Much of the world is captivated by the idea of sustainability whose light and fluffy exterior is characterized by “doing well by doing good” and whose dark underbelly is the stuff of self-preservation. What I like most about sustainability as a screen for what should be retained or discarded is its strategic urgency. Strategic – doing well by doing good. Urgency – self-preservation. I’ve been told and have experienced it to be true in my own life that what gets done is whatever is threatened by a burning platform (regrets to the “what gets measured, gets done” crowd – burning platform trumps measurement). As we move into the new year and look for new ways to separate the proverbial wheat from the chaff, one possibility might be found in the recursive innovation narrative and its North Star of sustainability.
Sources:
- “The Once and Future Way to Run,” Christopher McDougall, The New York Times Magazine, November 6, 2011
- “Crunch,” John Seabrook, The New Yorker, November 21, 2011
