Fifty-nine years ago, on 10 July 1967, New Zealand adopted decimal currency. The then Finance Minister, Robert Muldoon, championed the change from pounds, shillings and pence, to dollars and cents. Many older people struggled to make the change. After all, they had had a lifetime of operating within a completely different paradigm. But now, almost six decades on, we take decimal currency for granted. What changed?

Some people seem to embrace change well, others tend to be much more comfortable with the status quo. Some openly resist change. Society is, by definition, dynamic. Therefore, change is normal and natural. And the way we react/respond to change can have a significant bearing on our quality of life. Time is a factor too. 

Companies, as are microcosms of society, are not  immune to change either. The emergence of new technologies (think: decarbonisation, AI), expectations expressed by shareholders and stakeholder and activist groups), and competitors, not to mention geopolitical changes and natural disasters, have the potential to completely upend a once-high performing business.

How do you and the board you serve on cope with change?

As a board director, are you a pioneer, on the vanguard, championing change initiatives? Or, are you one back, happily embracing changes that others define? Perhaps you are more ambivalent, simply accommodating change when it comes? Or, do you tend to be resistive, because keeping safe and protecting inherent value is more important to you?

In practice, these mindsets are, to a greater or lesser extent, present at every board meeting. Sanguine-types, who tend to be enthusiastic about new options; driver-types are all about the outcome; guardians, who tend to be detail-oriented and strive to protect what is in place; and, phlegmatics, who want to know everyone is agreeable before moving on.

That there are differing mindsets is a good thing, for it helps consider change from different perspectives. No board director needs to ‘cope’ alone. But, as with the adoption of decimal currency, the decision itself is not the greatest challenge: after the decision the board needs to  ensure the desired outcome and associated benefits are realised in practice. And that is what differentiates a great board from the rest. Such is boardcraft.

In these first few days of June, I have been pondering the photographs I took in May (together, my Mundane May project). My motive was plain: to photograph a scene or object each day in May, post the images with an open mind, and see what happens.

The exercise was a test of sorts, to see whether I could establish and sustain a new rhythm, without preëmpting what might emerge. My hope was that I would become more observant, especially of things and situations in the periphery or out of sight. That was realised. But, I seem to have become a little more patient as well; my innate curiosity, which has languished in recent times, has been rekindled too. All of this is gratifying.

Then, yesterday, a postscript emerged. While cataloguing the final few photographs, I looked at some older images. One, captured in October 2023, seemed to levitate over the screen. I stared at it for quite a while, and let my thoughts wander.

The photograph captured one section of the Rococo library, which is located in the Abbey of Saint Gall. The library is the oldest in Switzerland and one of the oldest monastic libraries in the world. It houses over 170,000 religious documents, many of which are over one thousand years old. Several artworks are displayed too, and a sarcophagus to boot.

Staring at the picture reminded me of time spent on the parquet flooring, exercising my senses in the company of my dear friend, Riccardo (from Lisboa). I was inspired awe-struck by it all. As we moved about that day, quietly, and studied various items and explanatory notes, many questions came to mind. What might the authors have been thinking when they wrote, what did they eat, and who were their patrons? Did they ever dream their contributions might still be preserved hundreds of years later?

Recalling that visit to Rococo helped encapsulate my thoughts about the Mundane May project: We know far less than we think we do.

At first contact, it is easy to draw conclusions, especially if quantitative data is available. But these are often an illusion. As we think more deeply, we realise the world around us is dynamic; things change, often in unpredictable ways. Understanding in such situations relies on reasoning, intuition, and judgement. And, for that, qualitative data is necessary.

Indeed, what seems to be so at first may not actually be so.

Context matters.

The parallels with board work are stark. If I have learned one thing in the past 25 years serving as a director and advising boards, it is this: look beyond what can be seen, and hold options lightly. Validate what is reported. Strive to fill gaps by asking good questions and listening intently to the responses—before making a decision.

That none of us knows it all should be self-evident. That being the case, why do so many leaders, directors, and consultants continue to assert deterministic answers, best practice models, and 'ideal' structures, as if they exist and acting on them will deliver a prescribed outcome?

Wittgenstein's maxim is ringing in my ears.

Riccardo and me, chatting on a bench seat at the St. Gallen station, awaiting the train to Zurich.

May 24th–31st: As Autumn sets in, a new palette of colours becomes dominant.

To see earlier pictures: May 1st–2nd, May 3rd–9th, May 10–16th, May 17th–23rd.

May 24th: making a bold [mauve] statement.

May 25th: Deciduous conifers painting a [rusty] calm

May 26th: A sanctuary, to enjoy the vista, quietly.

May 27th: These feet are made for walking. Thanks Merrell.

May 28th: Framing Fall (as in, Autumn 😎)

May 29th: bureau sans frontières

May 30th: Before the trail fades... AKL–SCL from below.

May 31st: In the end, we all return to the ground.

Now, the 31 days of May have passed. My project, Mundane May, is complete. The idea was simple: Take a photograph of an object or scene every day in May—nothing special or flashy—post them with an open mind and see what happens.

• What did I observe?
• What did learn?
• Am I any different as a person?

Watch for a new muse, with my reflections, on these and other questions, sometime in the next seven days.

May 17th–23rd: Familiar territory—living on the land of the long white cloud.

To see earlier pictures: May 1st–2nd, May 3rd–9th, May 10–16th.

May 17: Left, only.

May 18: Announcing one’s arrival.

May 19: Afternoon [de]light

May 20: An early-morning chauffeur-ride to client engagements, for the third day in a row.

May 21: Autumnal hues

May 22: Ah, those long white clouds…

May 23: What picture are you in: Life? Work? Play?