In a documentary I recently watched, a scientist, incidentally working at the time with Stephen Hawking and others inquiring into the nature of black holes, said something I found interesting. They were seeking to understand the extent to which information, once absorbed by a black hole, can escape. This is apparently known as the information paradox, given that nothing is supposed to escape the pull of a black hole once it has crossed the event horizon. In contrasting his approach to that of a colleague, the scientist said he determined what his solution to a problem might be and then worked towards it. His colleague, on the other hand, started from where he was at, the known and provable, and then proceeded step-by-step, developing rigorous conclusions/proof for each step before taking the next. 

It sounded to me as though the former was intuitive in their insights, using their imagination to identify potential answers. They had to then seek their proof to either support or discount their idea or hypothesis. The latter scientist started where they were at and, in what seemed a more logical and clinical way, sought proof at each step of his inquiry. If it was there, he took the next step. If it wasn’t, he had to back up and find another step to take. 

The former developed ideas about where he wanted to go, and the challenge was to see whether the proof and evidence enabled him to get there. The latter was more interested in the process and the challenge was to build a solid evidential base at every step and see where it led him.

In turn these contrasting approaches mirror those in the social change arena. Some advocate starting where we are and seeking the possibility of change in the present, taking that next step and surveying where we are afresh to inform the next. This is the approach of the Explorer who recognises the beauty in being present to the prevailing situation and finding the path as they go. A characteristic of those working in complex systems, the challenge the Explorer faces is to take others with them on their journey without a compelling vision of the future to navigate towards. Indeed, on a personal level, such an archetype can appear lost, a wanderer, lacking drive or ambition. 

This is not the problem of the  Pilgrim^⁠1. Their approach is to ‘start with the end in mind’ and work towards a vision of how things could be different. The Pilgrim is resolute on their journey towards a known yet significant destination, whilst recognising the experience itself might reveal “new or expanded meaning about their self, others, nature, or a higher good through the experience”. Often a critique of the limitations of systems thinking, the danger the Pilgrim faces is that their fixation on the destination can blinker them to possibilities that might arise on their journey. Even should the Pilgrim spot an opportunity it is more likely to be viewed as a distraction to the real task at hand of reaching the destination. They run the very real risk of ‘hitting the target and missing the point’.

One is not necessarily better than the other; context might determine which is most appropriate at any given time. Perhaps the Explorer and the Pilgrim would make a good team were they to find common ground for collaboration. We mustn’t solely embody the Pilgrim archetype, marching confidently towards a defined position nor the Explorer, looking around for the best next step from where they are. The ability to blend both approaches – in ourselves, or in our teams, is to gain the benefits of working towards a compelling vision whilst retaining flexibility in the journey that it might take to get there, such that we can spot and harness the opportunities for change and the ideas that emerge along the way. 

¹ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pilgrimage