In February 2011, then-CEO of Nokia Stephen Elop authored a memo to the company that has, in the years since, circulated widely. In the year leading up to the memo, Nokia had gone from being among the “Who’s Who” to the “Who’s that?” of technology companies.
Elop started the memo by recounting the story of a man on an oil rig in the North Sea. In the middle of the night, an explosion set the rig on fire. The man now faced an awful decision -- stay on the burning platform and await certain death or jump into the inky, icy North Sea 100 feet below. He chose to jump, a decision that saved his life.
With blunt pragmatism, Elop wrote, “Nokia, our platform is burning.” In his estimation, the company faced a predicament similar to the oil worker. They could stay on the platform of the familiar and face an all-but-guaranteed end. Or, they could risk. They could leave what was familiar and leap into the unknown. This course of action might be perilous, but in the moment it might be the only action that offered any hope.
Part of what makes the memo interesting reading is Elop’s assessment of how Nokia ended up in this predicament. What he saw was that Nokia had failed to pay attention to two things -- the dramatic changes in its industry and the dramatic changes in the world.
They had not anticipated the rise of the smartphone. They had missed the importance of social networking and increasing technology-driven connectedness. They assumed that their tried-and-true technologies would continue to satisfy the market. But the market had changed, and their lack of perception, combined with a certain institutional obstructionism, had taken the company down.
This is an important cautionary tale for all who lead congregations and institutions.
It is easy in the midst of the daily demands of leadership to assume that the tried-and-true will always work and that the familiar and comfortable will continue to meet the needs of the people we serve, regardless of the way the world is changing. If we are not careful, though, we will find ourselves on burning platforms with only unpalatable choices before us.
I recently asked 25 faith leaders in Greensboro, N.C., to name the trends that are affecting their congregations, institutions and city. Together, they named more than 35 issues that are shaping and reshaping their ministries. Their list is as interesting as it is comprehensive, ranging from the challenges of food insecurity to income inequality to downtown development to increasingly toxic public discourse. From their various vantage points, they perceive fascinating social changes and challenges that will affect their work.
It’s an interesting and important exercise. What if, in your next senior staff meeting, you invited your leadership team to name the trends they are seeing? What if, instead of presuming a common understanding and appreciation for the way the world is changing, you invited a conversation to talk about how it is changing?
If you need a way to start the conversation, my colleague Greg Jones has written a list of deep trends that he perceives affecting institutional life. In your setting, are you seeing the same list? What might you add or subtract?
It’s the first step of a process. Once you name the way the world around you is changing, then you can begin to decide how to lead and to serve in response.
But to deny that the world is changing? That would be a disaster.
