Abstract
It has been a long time since Gibson Burrell published his Pandemonium (1997), so his admirers were happy to see Styles of Organizing, while wondering if it were at all possible to equal the previous book’s originality and depth. His current work is written from the beginning to the end (Pandemonium read both ways), but is no less interesting for that. If I may adopt a risky metaphor, Pandemonium was somewhat rustic, whereas Styles is undoubtedly urban. Its leading concept, announced in the first chapter, is architecture.
‘The will to form’ is synonymous with organizing, which in turn is defined as ‘a deliberate plane and purpose that deal practically and functionally with the coordination of elements into an orderly structure that is in working order’ (pp. 10, 22). Like many other organization theoreticians, Burrell assumes that organizing is prompted by a wish and a survival need to fight entropy. Here, however, the similarities end and the differences begin.
If architecture is what organizing is all about, then geometry is its basis. Far from being the ultra-rational tool that it is usually presented as being, however, geometry also has symbolic and aesthetic aspects. Geometrical preferences, visible in both the practice and theory of organizing, have more far-reaching consequences than usually assumed, as shown in Chapter 2.
Has Burrell returned to a traditional, structuralist approach and abandoned the recent focus on processes? No indeed; as formulated in Chapter 3, the aim of his book is ‘to utilize both structural and processual approaches to organizing and, once woven together in a materialist garb, reveal the fabric of a mutual interrelationship of “organization theory” with key features of politico-economic systems, architecture, aesthetics, design of the built environment, and associated artwork’ (p. 41). No meager task, that! If one could speak of a holistic approach to organization theory, this would be it. Burrell announces that he is going to build a three-dimensional model of design space in the form of a cube, and encourages readers to make an actual paper cube to accompany him in the discussions that follow (I must admit that I chose the easier option by finding a die).
The next chapter introduces the definition of the term style as used in the book: a mode or manner of living or behaving; a characteristic way of producing a thing and of executing a task; a distinctive type of architecture; a particular shape and structure of artefacts; and as a customary procedure for undertaking activities. (p.60)
Burrell points out that many common definitions of style omit the fact that it denotes not only inclusion, but also exclusion, thereby eliminating (‘cutting out’) other ways and forms. Looking at the history and periodization of styles, he has also noticed that, contrary to much of what the organization literature says, organizing is an activity that was obviously present as early as Ancient Egypt (see also e.g. Paolo Quattrone, 2012, who traces back the origins of modern management to the Jesuit Order). In Chapter 5 Burrell firmly establishes the connections among styles (in architecture as well as in organizing), philosophy, politics and economy. These connections explain the fact that styles can be used for differentiation or integration or as an instrument of rebellion.
And now to the cube. It will be built in three chapters, dedicated respectively to lines, points and planes. The title of Chapter 6 is ‘Lines of Fight’, a play on the Deleuzian ‘lines of flight’; the latter denotes movement; the former opposition between styles. These lines of fight separate the differing valuations of various types of knowledge (sentiments or rationality?), different relationships to nature (humans as a part of nature or apart from nature) and different perceptions of past and future (continuation or disruption). The ways of organizing depend on which side of these line the organizers occupy, although there can be intermediate positions as well. These six positions made up the six faces of the cube, and their meeting points are exactly the eight ‘points of opposition’–the topic of the next chapter.
The points are extreme expressions of the tendency represented by each line, and the points that lie on the opposite sides of the cube are most strongly opposed. Burrell so named these main oppositions: Green Environmentalism versus Neo-Liberalism Potlatch Economics versus Bright Green Environmentalism Schumpeterianism’s ‘Creative Destruction’ versus Heritage Economics Pol Potism versus Keynesianism (p. 123).
Both the labels and their descriptions are debatable, but provoking a debate is undoubtedly Burrell’s goal. It is a pity, though, that architectural examples of these points of opposition are not illustrated by pictures.
Chapter 8 contains organizational examples of the eight points, all analysed with the help of three concepts: emplacement (structure), enactment (format) and enchantment (embellishment). ‘Green Environmentalism’, exemplified in architecture by Gaudi’s Casa Milo, finds its equivalent in the National Trust, a UK conservation charity. ‘Neo-Liberalism’, of which the villa designed by Ludwig Wittgenstein for his sister was the example, is paired with the Ford Motor Company, both scoring zero on enchantment. ‘Creative Destruction’, a label attached to Frank Gehry’s MIT Stata building, is also attributed to Virgin Galactic (in my eyes, too much of a compliment to Richard Branson, but then I am a Gehry fan). ‘Heritage Economics’, illustrated by Jefferson’s University of Virginia Neo-Palladian building, is paired with Tilting on Fogo Island, the seat of fishing communities in Newfoundland and a National Historic Site of Canada. ‘Pol Potism’, and here is the most provocative set of examples, is to be found in Victor Horta’s Art Nouveau building for the Belgian Socialist Party, and in the Mexican Zapatistas movement. ‘Keynesianism’ has been embodied in the Palace of Versailles and in Enron (both shared the passion for trompes l’oeil). As Burrell predicted, Keynes would not be amused, but Burrell supports his judgment with President Truman’s opinion. ‘Potlatch Economics’ has been illustrated with examples of a Gothic cathedral and the Freedom Tower, or the process of designing it. Finally, the ‘Bright Green Environmentalism’ is exemplified by the Cambridge, UK recycling company, Enval, and by Buckminster Fuller’s ‘dymaxion’ (dynamic maximum tension) house, easy to build and easy to move (both trust aluminum). As promised by the author, there is indeed much to ‘mull over’ (p.168).
In the next chapter–on planes–the agonistic attitude is abandoned in an effort to find commonalities or similarities. The six ‘planes of agreement’ are the six faces of the cube, with one architectural and organizing stance dominating each face, although others are present in lines and corners. These are Naturality, A-naturality, Sensibility, Rationality, Sedimentism and Rupturism. The opposite planes are obviously on opposite sides of the cube. The analysis is conducted, as in the previous chapter, with the help of three concepts.
In the middle of Naturality sits Greenpeace, cornered by the Belgian Socialist Party building, dymaxion, Casa Milo and University of Virginia; Zapatistas, Enval, the National Trust and Tilting. On the plane of A-naturality resides Blackwater Inc., guarded by Wittgenstein’s villa, the MIT Stata building, the Gothic cathedral and Versailles; Ford’s Motor, Virgin, Enron and Free Tower. There is no doubt that this is not the plane where the author would like to live. Sensibility hosts BBC Radio 1, and in the corners sit the MIT Stata building, the Belgian Socialist Party house, the Gothic cathedral and Casa Milo; Virgin, Zapatistas, Freedom Tower, and the National Trust. Rationality has in its center the RAND Corporation, and in its extreme points Wittgenstein’s villa, dymaxion, University of Virginia and Versailles; Enval, Ford Motor, Tilting and Enron. On the plane of Sedimentism one can find the British Conservative Party, surrounded by the Gothic cathedral, Casa Milo, Versailles and University of Virginia; Freedom Tower, National Trust, Enron and Tilting. The central place on the plane of Rupturism is given to UK’s National Health Service, and it can serve as an example of Burrell’s reasoning. The NHS as an organization …is pulled on the plane of rupturism in one direction by Fordist mass production, in another by high-technology investment in small-scale organizational forms, in yet another by huge vanity projects involving massive investments in, let us say, new computer systems and yet again by protection of ‘national treasures’. (p. 199)
Thus the company of Ford, Enval, Virgin and Zapatistas. A great deal of fascinating information follows: By 2009, apparently, the NHS was the third, or at least the fifth largest employer in the world. ‘It is comparable to the Chinese army or the Indian railways in terms of size and complexity’ (p. 199; not a very comforting analogy from the point of view of its UK ‘customers’). And since its inception in 1948, it has been constantly subjected to change, although change can be thought of as the trademark of all public sector organizations (Brunsson, 2009). The chapter ends with a summary of managerial and organizational parameters of each face.
What next? The last part of the book consists of an excursion into the cube, in order to inspect schools of thought (and of design) that hide behind the faces. Chapter 10 is titled ‘Interior Design’ and is dedicated to a scrutiny of them all: Romanticism, Art Nouveau, Neo-Classicism, Gothic, Baroque, Modernism, Postmodernism and Deconstructionism. What follows is a short but colorful and instructive history, characteristic of each of those. (Among the unexpected snippets of new information is the one that Nadezhda Krupskaya–Lenin’s wife–apparently has been resurrected and lives on Facebook). At first glance, a separation of postmodernism and deconstructivism appears surprising, but Burrell speaks of ‘deconstructionist monumentalism’ à la Hitler and Ceauşescu (Buffett and Gates are also mentioned), classifying Derrida with postmodernists.
The Conclusions chapter is dedicated to an interweaving of threads–philosophy, politics and economics–in architecture, design and organizing, but also those spun by the author with those of potential readers. (Although it is unclear what is meant by ‘Simon Eling’s two photographs’, p. 257, allegedly shown in Chapter 10).
As was to be expected, the erudition of the author dazzles, and his knowledge of literature on architecture, philosophy, poetry and art impresses. Yet readers need never go to Wikipedia, because Burrell is also an extremely didactic writer, who presents complex thoughts in a highly readable way. They may, as I did, turn to that online encyclopedia, but only because they will be eager to learn more about the many enthralling topics, people, events and buildings mentioned briefly in the book.
Still, I wondered, now and then, if a cube is enough to render the complexity of contemporary organizing, as was Burrell’s goal for this book? Wouldn’t a polyhedron be required? (Now readers are advised to go to Wikipedia, as a polyhedron must be seen). Apart from a normal die, I also have an icosahedron (20 faces; also the basis of dymaxion maps), a gift from another organization scholar, Monika Kostera. I admit to postulating a three-dimensional organization in a book by the same name (Czarniawska-Joerges, 1993/2006), but I envisioned organizing as being constructed around and among these three (practical, political and symbolic), not as a closed cube. And what about self-organizing of an anarchistic kind, cheered on recently by James C. Scott? (2012). Allegedly, it does not involve designing or planning in advance; it proceeds by solving problems as they arise, and never properly stabilizes. Should it be counted, as Jencks, much quoted in the book, would have it, as yet another style? It seems so, as Zapatistas are described as anarchistic in that text. But does this not amount to an incorporating of the opposition–like saying that alterity is but an aspect of identity, disorganization but a type of organization and anti-aesthetic but a kind of aesthetic?
Perhaps the source of my reservations can be found in my answer to the quiz inserted by Burrell in order to classify the style preferences of his readers. It turned out, much to my surprise (Cubism is my favorite art style), that I am all for a romantic style of organizing (where rhizome would be the closest equivalent of a structure). So, if the other reasons for reading Styles of Organizing that I mention here are not sufficient, curiosity about their results of the quiz should be enough for most readers!