April 11, 2016
An adherence to strongly held beliefs can make people think and behave in peculiar ways and get them tangled up in all sorts of peripheral issues that can then suddenly take on a great deal of added significance. Early religious artists, for example, spent centuries wrestling with the intractable problem of whether to depict Adam and Eve with belly buttons or not. It’s a question that troubles theologians to this day, but at least they can talk about it solely in metaphysical terms whereas artists have to make a choice between actually suggesting whether Adam and Eve were born rather than created, hiding the belly button completely or just going along with it and letting other people do the arguing. Most, such as Antonio Molinari (above) chose the latter although a few chose to use the fig leaf and artful posing to obscure both the genitalia and implied origins of their subjects.
The theological flimflam surrounding this subject reached its apogee in 1857 with a book called Omphalos by a naturalist called Philip Gosse which suggested that Adam and Eve both had navels, and that this was just part of an elaborate plan by God to make the world look older than it really was. This mischievous God, according to Gosse, also went around burying fossils deep underground, knowing that one day they might be found and give us humans the idea that the Earth was very old indeed. Gosse knew what he was doing in naming the book Omphalos, which is the Greek for navel, and while this may seem like a pretty clear example of cognitive dissonance in action, the belief in a young Earth made to look old by a trickster God still has many adherents.
We all do it
We might feel sniffy or mocking about this kind of thinking that twists the facts to match our beliefs but we all do it to a greater or lesser degree. Many of us do it on a daily basis, not least in imbuing what we do for a living with great importance. I don’t hold completely with Bertrand Russell’s claim that ‘one of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one’s work is terribly important’, because what we do is and should be important to us both intrinsically and economically. It is a way of establishing our place in the world. Sure we shouldn’t get too tangled up in what we do to the extent it precludes everything else and threatens our wellbeing and mental health but neither should we reject the idea of the nobility and relevance of what we do. There is a balance to be struck and if nothing else, work at the very least feeds, shelters and cares for us and our families.
Professions are perhaps more prone to their own version of the Ompahlos hypothesis when faced with inconvenient truths. Last year, I took part in a feature for i-fm.net which asked a number of editors of facilities trade journals and other commentators for their views on the state of the facilities management profession, the results of which can be read here. Elliott Chase of i-fm.net was clear that the results should be published anonymously for the reason that it gave people the licence to tell the truth (or their idea of it), not least about the place of FM in the world. The views are not necessarily what you would read in the trade journals involved and they are certainly not what you would hear from the sector’s major players and trade associations in public.
Getting FM the credit it deserves
Gareth Tancred, then of the BIFM, responded to the feature based on what I would consider to be the main fallacy underlying the mission of many professional trade associations and their representatives. ‘There is a real desire to see FM get the credit and recognition it deserves’, he wrote at the very beginning of his response before elaborating on the notion that the reason other people don’t see why FM is so important is because the profession is not getting the message across. ‘We want to provide the industry with a voice,’ he writes. ‘we want to provide the proof points and narrative that we can take to the broader community of both business professionals and policy makers about the valuable contribution that FM makes; and we want to celebrate the impact that it has on business, the economy and wider society.’
But maybe that isn’t the problem at all, or at least not all of it. Maybe the message is getting across but other people see things differently or aren’t interested in it.
FM is not alone in thinking that it doesn’t shout loudly enough so that people outside the room can hear too. This is also the flawed thinking behind some of the Farrell Review but then that was always going to produce a shaky outcome. As we pointed out at the time the Review was announced, the contributors were almost exclusively architects and designers so it was inevitable that the report’s main conclusions would be predicated on the notion that everybody else should either ‘get it’ about architecture and design or go along with what they were told by people who knew better.
Well just maybe, people do get it and even if they don’t, might still have a right to an opinion. Maybe the fact is that architects, facilities managers, human resources managers and other workplace professions hold the appropriate evolutionary niche regardless of what they themselves might think as a profession. And no amount of navel gazing is going to change the fact.