Until recently I didn’t appreciate why the innovation programmes my team runs in communities in South Sudan and Guatemala were quite so different from the norm in the humanitarian sector, nor which aspects of this work were considered to be innovative. To me it just seemed like the way you would normally develop and run programmes, but clearly this is not always the case. Why would this be? Let’s start by contrasting traditional with innovation programming. 

Traditional programming is best described by Adam Kahane in his book Collaborating with the Enemy as the logical, linear, three-step approach to getting things done: first, smart people think through the problem and come with up a solution; then they persuade those in power to authorise and resource their solution; then they delegate implementation to their subordinates. It turns out that this traditional approach still dominates the humanitarian sector too. We still rely on LogFrames (a logical framework) and theories of change, which are all based on assumptions of linear causality and thus enable us – in theory – to trace from diagnosis to investment to outcome through neat steps. Those people and organisations that are the best at curating such a process are those that are most successful in attracting the funding to do so. Yet scratch beneath the surface rhetoric and all too often the intended benefits fail to be delivered. Why is this? 

First, and most crucially, we can’t define and deliver a solution in a complex environment. Yet the linear approach is based on the often unspoken assumption that the problem can be fixed – and that a failure to have fixed it reflects on those that have already been working on the problem. There’s no small hint of colonial mindset at play here from such organisations based in the West. Funders and philanthropists propagate these myths through their insistence that outcomes can be bought and delivered^⁠1 and that the smart people working for smart organisations are those most deserving of their largesse as they are the ones who can actually understand and thus fix these difficult issues. Indeed, such an approach often excludes those most impacted by the issue in the first place, both from input into how the problems show up as well as from sharing insights into potential solutions or programmes that might address them. 

Next, the linear approach assumes that the problem can be understood in sufficient detail that it can even be fixed. This works in ordered domains where we can identify cause and effect relationships, but not in complex ones that are dynamically changing all the time. When we are dealing with people and complexity it is not possible to take such a reductive approach to problem-solving and assume we can always ‘fix the problem’. But it takes no small amount of humility for a funder and those pitching to them to admit that there is no answer to be bought, not least because it fatally undermines the existing model we are all familiar and comfortable with. 

Thirdly, this linear approach assumes that the conditions faced by those implementing the ideas or solutions are still the same as when they did this diagnostic. By the time any operational or funding decisions are made and resources received we are in all likelihood months – if not years – removed from the original analysis. 

Finally, this is almost inevitably a one-shot exercise: all the institutional bets are placed on the single solution proposed and then adopted. Path dependency locks us in to our solution and, combined with reputations on the line and incentives to succeed, there is no room for error, let alone scope to adapt the solution to changing circumstances as we go. So we proceed with our silver bullet solution and hope it works; when it doesn’t, we need – and find – an excuse or, in higher stakes environments, a scapegoat. 

This is how we do traditional project planning and programming in all sectors I’ve worked in, whether local government, humanitarian and charity sectors, or even in our clubs and social groups. To be fair, there is usually more flexibility in the third sector, not in big charities but in the smaller, more responsive ones often set up and run by social entrepreneurs. In the humanitarian sector this traditional approach still dominates, and for some very compelling reasons. These include the fragility of the post-disaster contexts in which they are working, the need to work sensitively with communities and support not exploit them, the requirement to safeguard public funding and ensure high standards of probity and accountability, the need to evidence to donors and funders the impact of their resourcing (and by inference the quality of the work you have been able to do with it). 

However, are these not simply excuses? Surely, given the fast pace, uncertainty and flux of conditions in communities after a disaster, traditional linear planning is not sufficiently adaptive for these contexts? We’ve seen why it perpetuates, despite the challenges. And as I’ve written before, what do you do when you can’t know what to do – when there isn’t a clear solution to be bought? The over-arching answer is to invest in processes not outcomes, recognising that in complexity the two are not contingent. One such process-focused answer can be found in the development of innovation programming. In future articles I’ll explore what this looks like in theory and the impact it can have in practice. 

¹ See, for example: https://www.centreforpublicimpact.org/insights/co-missioning-moving-on-from-the-idea-that-outcomes-can-be-delivered