IT WAS GOING SO WELL AND THEN IT WASN’T. Have you ever reached an utter impasse in a rehearsal or workshop process that had started so promisingly? You end up trying every trick/strategy/technique/ploy you know and still somehow you can’t gain traction again. Maybe you’ve observed this supervising a devising process. One group gets off to a flying start and you turn your attention to others who are struggling for ideas. You check back in later and find they have completely stalled.

Nature of error:

The monkey trap is a ubiquitous tale, probably South Asian in origin, made popular in modern Western thought by Robert M. Pirsig in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.1 The narrator in the novel uses the story to explore a concept he calls Value Rigidity:

Value rigidity, according to Pirsig, is an inability to evaluate/re-evaluate information because of a commitment to a previous idea or decision. It’s allowing a perception to get stuck in a pattern. Like the monkey refusing to let go of the fruit even when the hunter is coming, value rigidity means clinging so tightly to an idea or way of thinking that you can’t adapt, change, or embrace new, potentially better possibilities. You become trapped by your own unwillingness to let go of the previous value, even if letting go would mean freedom or growth.

Stuck on: the first idea

It may be that the devising group above became stuck when the initial idea somehow ran out of steam - a not uncommon occurrence in any creative work. However, the level of excitement created by the ‘great’ idea might have resulted in an inability to recognise when the idea has reached its limits. Rigidity sets in. The fact that the idea is no longer working is staring them in the face, but they don’t recognise it. Likewise, new ways forward are invisible because all value (importance) is inviolably ascribed to the previous commitment.

Anchoring Effect: The ‘idea’ might be the first one that came to mind, the most vivid, or the one that has been focused on from the outset. This initial thought (the anchor) can disproportionately influence decision-making, making it difficult to consider alternative, potentially better options.

Stuck on: what we already know/care about

Let’s consider a different example. A workshop leader has been invited to work with a group of participants subject to social marginalization. The facilitator has read widely about this form of marginalisation and has deep personal commitment to addressing it. Based on a hunch, the facilitator becomes convinced that the participants are concerned about a specific, potentially controversial, societal issue. They begin the workshop. It is somewhat hard going - the group is reluctant to engage with the topic. Instead of revisiting the hunch in light of this new information the facilitator soldiers on. The group’s concern for the issue has clearly been deeply repressed - so the facilitator believes.2 The only way forward is through. That this may not be the right time or space never enters their mind. The group may need time to feel comfortable. The importance of the issue may not be felt equally amongst the participants. Or, indeed, felt at all.

Availability Heuristic: An issue might be judged as more likely or important simply because examples of it are easily recalled from memory, perhaps because they are recent, vivid, or frequently encountered. This readily available information can disproportionately influence judgments and decisions, leading individuals to overestimate its frequency or significance compared to less salient, but potentially more accurate, data.

Stuck on: what is mine

In our final example, let’s consider a theatre director who has a specific vision for a crucial scene. The description of this in production meetings led to gasps of awe. Artistic genius! Significant kudos for the director. However, during rehearsals, it becomes evident that the idea isn’t landing with the actors or is technically challenging for the crew to execute smoothly. The director stubbornly clings to the concept, bemoaning the unwillingness of the cast and crew to make it work. Precious time is lost that might have been spent developing an alternative.

Endowment Effect: We tend to ascribe more value to things we already possess or have created ourselves. The director’s big idea feels inherently more valuable simply because it originated with them. This feeling of ownership, often linked to psychological attachment or loss aversion, can disproportionately influence decision-making, making it difficult to objectively evaluate value or part with it when others might consider it reasonable.

Potential Consequences:

· Reduced engagement and participation.

· Compromised quality and effectiveness.

· Missed opportunities

· Damaged relationships

Ways of interrupting the fallacy:

In each of the examples the importance ascribed to each ‘idea’ is removed from the broader context that gives it value. The monkey values the piece of fruit as a means of avoiding starvation. However, avoiding starvation is part of the broader goal of staying alive. It would be better in this case to be a hungry live monkey rather than a dead one with food in its hand. The broader purpose of the action has been subsumed into a single measurable goal.3 We have promoted a possible means of achieving the goal to the only means of doing so. In a way the ‘idea’ has become a substitute for the whole.

It would be easy to reach for the oft-quoted axiom that creatives must be prepared to “kill your darlings”. This is not necessarily bad advice. All creativity requires a kind of ruthlessness as generation turns to editing and refinement. The phrase neatly captures the pain that accompanies the decision to excise cherished ideas. But we’re dodging the issue. The monkey probably never consciously decided to put its hand in and grab the fruit, much less refuse to let go of it. It was more likely a pattern of behaviour that had served it well in the past. Likewise, our own patterns may not be obvious to us on a day-to-day basis. ‘Kill your darlings’ only works when you know what needs to be let go of and why.

Pirsig offers the following advice:

It’s probably helpful here to point out that Pirsig is using the Monkey as a metaphor for a motorcycle mechanic trying to diagnose a fault.4 Like a mechanic, a facilitator or director is rarely, if ever, in possession of all the relevant information. Any decision or hypothesis must be open to question and change. All the more so when dealing with people rather than machines.

The suggestion then is to stop, stand back and try to re-engage with the fundamental goal, aim, driving force etc. of the activity in question. Only then can you begin to untangle the unconscious commitments that got you into the pickle in the first place. Personally, and I’ve lost count of how many times my hand has been stuck in the jar, I find it useful to draw or physically map out the project. A long walk, bath, or swim can also be extremely useful. This is not dodging or procrastinating. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s a professional responsibility. This type of quiet and conscious reassessment is far more effective (and sustainable) than the more rash impulses to kill darlings or, in a more self-help paradigm, go full Elsa and just ‘let it go’.

Questions for Reflection:

1. What is the ultimate goal here?

2. If the idea was impossible to realise what would you do instead?

3. Can the idea be seen as a stepping stone rather than the end point?

4. What evidence would it take to convince you that the idea is not working or is no longer the best approach?

5. Whose needs does this idea ultimately serve?

Always an Error?

I’m always slightly concerned that my Facilitator Fallacy posts might be taken as somewhat of a telling off. You do X and X is wrong because of Y, deduct 5 facilitator points and here’s (another) stick to beat yourself with! In reality the fallacies only achieve this status because of their proximity to perfectly appropriate ways of working. This is particularly true here.

I’ve no doubt that my examples above will have provoked as many ’ yeh-but-what-abouts’ as they did knowing nods. Who hasn’t met with the group that jettisons everything they’ve worked on at the first obstacle? Who hasn’t let their own reticence or lack of confidence prevent themselves from sticking with a group as they work through a tricky issue? And aren’t there times when you need to stick to your guns and prioritise a certain scene or piece of staging, even when others don’t agree?

Yes, though these counter examples are really just the same trap with different fruit.

Consider the devising group so invested in getting top marks that they change their idea for something ‘better’ each week. Think of the times when your fear of imposing actively prevents a group from engaging in issues of importance. Or when adherence to the rehearsal schedule, or an inclination to avoid conflict, leads you to abandon a vision for a simpler compromise. Same rigidity - different values.

So ultimately it’s less about whether we are in a monkey trap and more about figuring out which one you are currently stuck in!

Share

Share The Philosophical Theatre Facilitator

Subscribe now

Sources:

Kahneman, D., 2012. Thinking, fast and slow. Penguin psychology. London: Penguin Books.

Pirsig, R.M., 2014. Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance. New York: Vintage

Rosen, M (2018, February 8) Michael Rosen: The data have landed. Available from http://michaelrosenblog.blogspot.com/2018/02/the-data-have-landed.html

SO YOU'VE JUST READ a great book about a theatre practitioner, or participated in an inspiring workshop, maybe you've come across a website or blog that talks about theatre in way you hadn't thought about before. 'I'll have that' you think and whack it into your next session only to see it fall completely flat. Instead of lighting the touchpaper of the group's interest you're left with the uninspiring dull pffft of a damp squib and the feeling of coming up short. Or maybe you've turned to an experienced friend or mentor for ideas when rehearsals are stuck in the doldrums. You do exactly as they suggest to little or no effect. Bad advice, you think. "Always works for me" they say. Sound familiar? I'd wager we've all fallen into the 'Fast Food Seagull' fallacy at some point.

Understanding the error

The fallacy here is a matter of mistaking correlation for causation. We assume the personal impact of the exercise/technique/idea lies exclusively in the material when in reality a whole range of factors contributed to your positive evaluation. If these other factors were missing and/or different when you repeated the exercise (or concept or detail or technique) then there would, of course be a different outcome. To put it another way, the physical replication of the exercise may be a necessary part of your insight but it is not, in itself sufficient to bring about the same impact. Perhaps it was the way the activity built upon some things you already knew or had experienced in the past. Maybe there was something about the way the exercise was delivered on that day, for that group of people, that you hadn't noticed. Or the activity moved towards a goal you had already committed yourself to. These unacknowledged factors fall into three main groups:

1. Prior knowledge or experience

• Example: Fresh from a month long Commedia Summer School in Italy a director decides to share one of the games they learned with the youth theatre they led. It was a physical version of Rock ,Paper, Scissors but with Pantalone, Brighella and Arlechino. I was a participant in the Youth Theatre. We had done some basic Commedia before, so the game ran but the interactions were fairly flat and tokenistic. "It was hilarious when we did it Italy" rues the Youth Theatre Director. Strangely enough, I encountered the same exercise five years later in the middle of a 12 week commedia module at drama school- and yes, this time, it was hilarious.

2. The context of delivery

• Example: There's an exercise I often use in Theatre for Democracy projects as a warm up for discussion. I ask the audience to stand (or raise a hand if I'm not 100% sure standing is ok for everyone). The exercise then proceeds with "Remain standing if you.... like toast. If this doesn't apply to you sit down". The exercise is repeated a couple of times with the questions moving from general (have ever told a lie, broken a promise) to more specific issues (decided not to use public transport because of the cost, had an idea that would benefit the neighbourhood). It's a gentle way to get everyone involved in expressing simple binary preferences or views on uncontroversial topics. Some weeks after using the exercise as part of a Theatre for Democracy workshop I had run in Austria I received an email from one of the participants. The message was courteous but brief pointing out that my 'Standing exercise did not work'. We corresponded, and it turns out the participant had misworded the questions and said " Stand up if....". This makes a huge difference - if you are in any way unconfident it is easier just to remain seated. Indeed the secret of the exercise, as I had explained in the workshop, is that participants are already standing - to agree or assent to the statement they don't have to do anything. Furthermore it turns out he used the exercise in a discussion about Sexual Health. "Stand up if you have ever..."!

3. Personal goals and preferences

• Example: I was once documenting a workshop for a long established practitioner. They had recently developed an interest in NLP and found it personally transformative. In the workshop I saw they attempted to integrate a number of techniques into a session for teachers interested in classroom drama. The participants were bemused and actually called a halt to the workshop. They couldn’t see the point in what they were doing. The facilitator explained how the exercise helps adapt our ‘mental programs’. One of the participants responded that they were perfectly happy with their mental program but were looking for ideas on how to use drama in their literature class.

It’s perfectly possible for all three factors to impact delivery. Indeed one of the most common instances of the fast food seagull I’ve seen is when the facilitator attempts to recreate a session they experienced during their training at drama school. They forget the whole curriculum that had led up to that exercise (1), and would likely have been unaware of the factors that influenced the tutor's decision to do it on that particular day ,nor the safety nets that had been built into the process (2). Lastly but most importantly they fail to consider that a drama student's commitment to perfecting 'the craft' might not be shared by the members of the knit and natter group who have volunteered to be in a community play (3)!

You've no doubt now guessed where I was heading with the opening analogy. Seagulls generally feed their young by first eating the food and then regurgitating it in a form suitable for the needs of the chicks. As is so often the case, metaphors can only take us so far before we get tied up in details - and we'll all be happier for not delving into the mechanics of regurgitation. Suffice to say the gull in our story in failing to digest the material first, has assumed that what, for them, is a great meal would be equally nutritious for the chicks. Likewise a copy and paste exercise/concept/technique without prior 'digestion' assumes a level of universal application that is rare for anything but the most basic material.

The "Fast Food" bit of the title is not a value judgement on the quality of the meal (though the image obviously works better with a burger than a piece of broccoli). No, it’s recognising that part of the error is in rushing to use the new material. Fast food is so named because it eliminates the need to plan, source ingredients and cook. Do we want our workshops to be the equivalent to Kevin's Fried Chicken?

Potential consequences

• Lack of connection- participants comply with instructions but find no relevance.

• Misfire- The exercise grinds to halt or has unintended negative impact.

• Deflation -The participants pick up on the facilitator's positive expectation and then feel they have ‘failed’

• Running Repairs - The facilitator recognises the activity isn't going to work and has to make alterations on the fly.

• Pseudo-achievement- Participants will not remember what happened in the session.

Ways of interrupting the fallacy:

If copying, borrowing, or throwing-in material from a third party, there are five simple questions that can help avoid the Fast Food Seagull fallacy.

1. What knowledge or experience is needed to fully engage with this exercise/concept/technique?

2. What are the mechanics of this exercise/concept/technique? What makes it work? What are its limitations?

3. What level of commitment, goal or purpose does this exercise/concept/technique require?

4. Given the answers to Q1-3 above what alteration would be needed for this material to work with the group?

5. Given the answer to Q4. would this exercise/concept/technique still be useful for the group.

Always an error?

Technically yes, but the negative impact of the fallacy can be small to negligible for simple exercises. Equally, an experienced group may be able to take it in their stride. Nevertheless, the fallacy is best avoided.

Bonus Fallacy: The Fine Art Seagull!

Error: When we throw in a concept, exercise or technique in name only and then expect the group to recall it as embodied knowledge. Often occurs as a result of the Train Drivers Dinner fallacy.

Example: Briefly describing "Marx's Alienation of Labour", "Emotional Recall" or "Rib-Reserve breathing" and then being surprised when the group claims no knowledge of the material in the next session.

Always an error?: Sometimes ok if mentioned as a stepping stone to other material that is then fully embodied.

Click here for more facilitation fallacies

Share

Share The Philosophical Theatre Facilitator

Subscribe now