A small group of us are a creating a new grassroots organization to help the travel and tourism industry take their share of responsibility for climate change. As soon as we have a web site, I'll add a link.
We've galvanised a group of individuals with the expertise to speak authoritatively on the subject; we know what we want to achieve and now it's time to think about structure; the business model ; funding and process. We can't do this alone and our resources are limited. It's tempting to try to get it all sorted before we take our vision out into the world.
But I am a great believer in the truth of William Gibson's statement: "the future's here; it's just not evenly distributed yet". The intelligence and the resources to make our dream a reality exist out there in this huge, complex and amorphous mass called tourism. Our job as visionaries and leaders is
- to attract that resource and align it around a dream; and
- to create the conditions whereby energy and innovation can be harnessed to achieve results.
So instead of approaching this problem from the top down, we're going to seed it from the bottom up.
The following story that came across my e-mail today from the Leaders in London conference helps explain the efficacy of this approach.
When Zander took the
Youth Philharmonic Orchestra to Cuba in 1999, they began their concert
in
Havana playing two pieces with the
National Youth Orchestra of Cuba. An American and a Cuban child shared the
music at each music stand.
The first piece, written by
Guido Lopez Gavillan, the conductor of the Cuban orchestra, was colourful and
brilliant. Ben Zander had decided not to prepare his young musicians in
advance; he wanted them to learn the piece from the composer himself.
Maestro Lopez Gavillan began
rehearsing his work, but it was quickly evident that its complex Cuban rhythms
were beyond the American kids; they'd never seen anything like it, and they
simply couldn't play it. After giving it his best, the conductor resigned
himself to failure. "I'm afraid this isn't going to work," he said
from the podium. "We have to cancel the performance."
Ben Zander couldn't
accept this outcome, wouldn't accept this outcome; one of the most important parts of
the tour was the opportunity for the Cuban and the American kids to play
together. He leapt to the stage and took over.
Through an interpreter, he
said to the young Cuban musicians, "Your job is to teach these rhythms to
your stand partner." And to the Americans, he said, "Just give
yourselves over to the leaders sitting next to you. You will get the support
you need."
Then he asked Guido Lopez
Gavillan to try again. Imagine what ensued. The
focus shifted from the conductor to the orchestra itself. The young
Cubans "became fantastically energized, exuberantly conducting with their
instruments, each leading along his American stand partner enthusiastically.
The American kids, basking in the lavish attention, gave themselves ... to the
process, and began to play the rhythms the way they were (meant) to be played."
The maestro was well pleased.
Then it was Ben Zander's
turn. He had chosen to conduct Bernstein's overture to Candide, a
"fiendishly difficult little masterpiece." The music is so tricky to
play that he had sent the score down to Havanathree months earlier, to give the
Cuban kids a chance to prepare. But asked if they had enjoyed learning it, he
got only a blank stare. As it turned out, the music had been languishing at the
Havana central Post Office. The Cubans had
never seen it.
Maestro Zander felt his
panic rise; The American kids had taken months to learn it. Standing before the
orchestra, frozen, he suddenly realized that the young musicians seated
expectantly before him were smiling. Why not? Now it was the young Americans'
turn to lead. Springing to life, they led their stand partners ... and
it came off perfectly."
Perhaps an alternative title of this blog post might be "Leadership By Improvisation"?