Most of my days begin the same way. I snooze the alarm on my iPhone a time or two before getting out of bed. Often, I open my phone and connect to a device I have a mixed relationship with: the scale. After this humbling encounter, I look forward to the coffee maker, which delivers delight much more reliably than my scale does.
While the coffee machine does the Lord’s work, I open my smart ring app to check my Readiness Score. This score tells me if I’m ready for activity or need more rest. The app typically advises me to take it easy (due to poor sleep), something that’s usually not up to me. But the chore of making lunch is easier to bear as the rhythm of filling the insulated bag is interrupted by sips of liquid energy.
From there, my watch tracks steps and exercise, my phone tracks screen time, and apps follow my travels across town for mileage reimbursements. Later, an attempt to chill out and watch television is interrupted by an app shaming me about my bedtime: “Now's the time to start winding down your body and mind.” It’s your fault if you have another bad night’s sleep, it seems to say.
Can you relate? Do you have devices tracking your time and movement? Do they feed you data that you should use to change your habits? And the big question: Have you actually changed?
If not, I get it. Oh, my friend, I so get it. You are seen. And if you have read this far, I know that I have been seen as well.
These days, with the prevalence of smartphones, smart watches, life-tracking apps, AI and the Internet of Things, there is no shortage of data. But there is at least one big problem with data: It does not drive change. Knowing information is not enough.
Remember the adage: “Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.” To this end, as great as data is, when it comes to making change, especially in our congregations, we need more than data, information or just the facts.
When I work with leadership teams and congregations, I encourage them to explore beyond data. My experience with design thinking has persuaded me that they also need to attend to intuition.
In his 2009 book, “The Design of Business,” Roger Martin carefully describes two types of organizations: those that rely on analytics and those that rely on intuition. For those that rely on analytics, he explains, every decision is driven by efficiency and supported by data.
McDonald’s Speedee Service System, for example, was created as a method for systematizing the quick and cheap production of burgers and fries. And though Martin doesn’t describe the church as an intuitive organization, if you have ever heard anyone at church say, “It was all worth it if we helped just one person,” you have met someone relying on intuition.
In my experience, churches don’t mind metrics. They count budgets, attendance, programs, events and all kinds of things. Keeping records is something many churches are really good at.
Churches are also pretty good at intuition. One reason people stay in a congregation is because of the relationships and connections that come through the shared spiritual life.
However, congregations are also big systems, and as they imagine change, they can bump up against the problem of choosing to believe what they want rather than what they need. They can lean on analytics or slide into intuition depending on what they want to argue.
But ultimately, what today’s congregations need to flourish in our ever-changing world is a creative tension that comes from using data and feeling the urgency to change. Martin describes this as exercising abductive logic.
He writes, “Abductive logic sits squarely between the past-data-driven world of analytical thinking and the knowing-without-reasoning world of intuitive thinking … the design thinker can add abductive logic to the reasoning repertoire to drive the organization."
If congregations can learn this kind of balanced posture, it might reduce the tendency to swing between the extremes of analysis paralysis and blind enthusiasm. Wise leaders will collect all the data they can, but will not be beholden to it. They will recognize that metrics tell part of the story, but they cannot measure the stirrings of conviction or the whispers of the Spirit. To lead faithfully is to listen to the data on the dashboards and hold it with the discernment of dreamers.
That’s where ideation and experimentation from design thinking can enter the conversation. This harnesses the energy in a community, discerns the patterns of experience reflected in the hard data, and translates these expressions into communal imagination.
This is why I continue to think that abductive logic through a design thinking lens is one of the best ways for faithful leaders and teams to see the world. Design thinking is not merely a trendy framework for creativity — it is a discipline for curiosity, empathy and faithful experimentation. It invites us to build on who we are, honor what got us here, and free ourselves for what comes next.
When I think about my personal data collection — the ring, the scale, the watch, the apps — I realize the numbers never make me different. Sadly, as we all know, just looking at the scale doesn’t make the pounds fall away, and knowing you need more rest doesn’t help you turn off Netflix.
Meaningful change for me comes when I invite others to see the data with me, to hold me accountable to things I want to achieve, and to help me build a path toward those ends.
I think the same is true for congregations. By facing reality and embracing God’s dreams for the community together, they can imagine what comes next and maybe, just maybe, invite change that sticks.
