Showing posts with label Karl Weick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Karl Weick. Show all posts

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Part 2: Weick Sheds Light on Why Sharon Opened the Door


"
THE INCIDENT


As Maclean puts it, at its heart, the Mann Gulch disaster is a story of a race. The smokejumpers in the race (excluding foreman "Wag" Wagner Dodge and ranger Jim Harrison) were ages 17-28, unmarried, seven of them were forestry students, and 12 of them had seen military service. They were a highly select group and often described themselves as professional adventurers.



A lightning storm passed over the Mann Gulch area at 4PM on August 4, 1949 and is believed to have set a small fire in a dead tree. The next day, August 5, 1949, the temperature was 97 degrees and the fire danger rating was 74 out of a possible 100, which means "explosive potential". When the fire was spotted by a forest ranger, the smokejumpers were dispatched to fight it. Sixteen of them flew out of Missoula, Montana at 2:30PM in a C-47 transport. Wind conditions that day were turbulent, and one smokejumper got sick on the airplane, didn't jump, returned to the base with the plane, and resigned from the smokejumpers as soon as he landed ("his repressions had caught up with him,"). The smokejumpers and their cargo were dropped on the south side of Mann Gulch at 4:10PM from 2000 feet rather than the normal 1200 feet, due to the turbulence. The parachute that was connected to their radio failed to open, and the radio was pulverized when it hit the ground. The crew met ranger Jim Harrison who had been fighting the fire alone for four hours, collected their supplies, and ate supper.



About 5:10 they started to move along the south side of the gulch to surround the fire. Dodge and Harrison, however, having scouted ahead, were worried that the thick forest near which they had landed might be a "death trap". They told the second in command, William Hellman, to take the crew across to the north side of the gulch and march them toward the river along the side of the hill. While Hellman did this, Dodge and Harrison ate a quick meal. Dodge rejoined the crew at 5:40PM and took his position at the head of the line moving toward the river. He could see flames flapping back and forth on the south slope as he looked to his left. At this point the reader hits the most chilling sentence in the entire book: "Then Dodge saw it!".



What he saw was that the fire had crossed the gulch just 200 yards ahead and was moving toward them. Dodge turned the crew around and had them angle up the 76-percent hill toward the ridge at the top. They were soon moving through bunch grass that was two and a half feet tall and were quickly losing ground to the 30-foot-high flames that were soon moving toward them at 610 feet per minute. Dodge yelled at the crew to drop their tools, and then, to everyone's astonishment, he lit a fire in front of them and ordered them to lie down in the area it had burned. No one did, and they all ran for the ridge. Two people, Sallee and Rumsey, made it through a crevice in the ridge unburned, Hellman made it over the ridge burned horribly and died at noon the next day, Dodge lived by lying down in the ashes of his escape fire, and one other person, Joseph Sylvia, lived for a short while and then died. The hands on Harrison's watch melted at 5:56, which has been treated officially as the time the 13 people died.



PANIC IN MANN GULCH



With these observations as background, we can now look more closely at the process of a cosmology episode, an interlude in which the orderliness of the universe is called into question because both understanding and procedures for sensemaking collapse together. People stop thinking and panic. What is interesting about this collapse is that it was discussed by Freud (1959: 28) in the context of panic in military groups: "A panic arises if a group of that kind |military group~ becomes disintegrated. Its characteristics are that none of the orders given by superiors are any longer listened to, and that each individual is only solicitous on his own account, and without any consideration for the rest. The mutual ties have ceased to exist, and a gigantic and senseless fear is set free." Unlike earlier formulations, such as McDougall's (1920), which had argued that panic leads to group disintegration, Freud, reversing this causality, argued that group disintegration precipitates panic.



By group disintegration, Freud meant "the cessation of all the feelings of consideration which the members of the group otherwise show one another". He described the mechanism involved this way: "If an individual in panic fear begins to be solicitous only on his own account, he bears witness in so doing to the fact that the emotional ties, which have hitherto made the danger seem small to him, have ceased to exist. Now that he is by himself in facing the danger, he may surely think it greater." It is certainly true in Mann Gulch that there is a real, palpable danger that can be seen, felt, heard, and smelled by the smokejumpers. But this is not the first time they have confronted danger. It may, however, be the first time they have confronted danger as a member of a disintegrating organization.



As the crew moved toward the river and became more spread out, individuals were isolated and left without explanations or emotional support for their reactions. As the ties weakened, the sense of danger increased, and the means to cope became more primitive. The world rapidly shifted from a cosmos to chaos as it became emptied of order and rationality."


- portions of Karl E. Weick's book Making Sense of the Organization

Monday, May 31, 2010

Cosmology Episodes: Why I'm Having One Right Now


I first learned about cosmology episodes when I was taking Organizational Theory the fall semester of my senior class. The class happened to coincide with my being prescribed a heavy dose of amphetamines for my attention deficit disorder. The already-interesting material was especially fascinating when enhanced by speed, and throughout the semester I took notes furiously. Karl Weick’s “cosmology episode” came about in late November, when I was simultaneously finishing my thesis on gold mining while subconsciously realizing that my drinking days were coming to a close.


Born in Indiana, Weick is an organizational theorist and author. For class, we read his 1993 article for the Administrative Science Quarterly “The Collapse of Sensemaking in Organizations: The Mann Gulch Disaster” in which he looks into the tragic deaths of thirteen smokejumpers in a 1949 Montana fire. On page six of the article, a link to which I’ve included at the bottom of this post, he introduces the term “cosmology episode”:


"A cosmology episode occurs when people suddenly and deeply feel that the universe is no longer a rational, orderly system. What makes such an episode so shattering is that both the sense of what is occurring and the means to rebuild that sense collapse together…Stated more informally, a cosmology episode feels like vu jàdé—the opposite of déjà vu: I’ve never been here before, I have no idea where I am, and I have no idea who can help me.”


Finding myself at the helm of my very own blog is, for me, a less fatal cosmology episode in its own right. I’ve been told over and over again that, as a writer, blogging is something I must do. I’ve been told to think of it as a portfolio of sorts—a place where potential employers can view my work and, in turn, give me money to do what I love. Even so, I’ve always been against blogs, feeling that they can add to the constantly expanding sea of dilution that is the internet. I’ve even gone as far as to say that they have aided in the demolition of the craft of writing, and the respect for the jobs: with blogs, everyone’s a writer, cheapening the talent.


That said, I’ve been blogging for just a few hours and I already find myself warming to it, discovering I like having my cheek pressed up against the glass of the blogosphere, feeling its pulse. Further, who am I to say what’s worthy, what’s “real”? Before I get lost in the type of endless pontification I hate (and feel this type of forum can lend itself to), I will get on to exactly what cosmology episodes have to do with exformation.


In short, I didn’t feel “cosmology episode” had a ring to it, as far as blog names go, so I began to google the term, looking for something more catchy yet still related, and I came across the definition of “exformation”. Created by Danish author Tor Nørretranders in his book The User Illusion, exformation is essentially the matter that disappears during a cosmology episode or, in his words: “exformation is everything we do not actually say but have in our heads when or before we say anything at all. Information is the measurable, demonstrable utterance we actually come out with”. Exformation Station immediately brought to mind Schoolhouse Rock’s song “Conjuction Junction” and I was instantly sold as I hope you—potential employers, readers, relatives—are.

Read Weick's article here