PART ONE
Framing the Field: Introducing Some Big Questions
1
What Do OB Tools and Practices Do?
André Spicer
INTRODUCTION
Many people ask what theories of organizational behaviour actually do. Students are notorious for prodding their teachers about the use of sometimes seemingly baroque theories. Practitioners enjoy the sport of mocking researchers for their quaint irrelevance. Producers of theories of organizational behaviour are also prone to engaging in a little self-flagellation when they ask questions such as: âArenât these theories just a fancy version of common senseâ (Gordon et al., 1978), âcanât any relatively intelligent person pick these ideas up on the jobâ (Pfeffer and Fong, 2002, 2004), âWhat is the point of an education in all these silly models which bear little relationship to what managers doâ (Mintzberg, 2004), âdonât theories of OB stunt peoples moral and ethical developmentâ (Leavitt, 1989), âWhy do theories ignore real world problemsâ (Hambrick, 1993), âWhy do we ignore the external validity of our theoriesâ (Kilmann, 1979), âHow relevant are the theories which we develop to the real world?â (Starkey and Madan, 2001; Starkey, Hauchlet and Tempest, 2004), and âAre we using the right style to communicate our ideasâ (Grey and Sinclair, 2006).
Some scholars have directly reacted to these concerns by arguing that the purpose of organizational behaviour should be the development of knowledge, not a desperate quest for relevance. For instance, during a speech at a large scholarly conference, Jim March (2000) commented that the purpose of management research âis not in trying to identify factors affecting corporate performance, or in trying to develop managerial technology. It is in raising fundamental issues and advancing knowledge about fundamental processes affecting managementâ. For March and many others like him, the purpose of theory is to expand our understanding of the organizational world. It is not to provide relevant tools for managers to fiddle about with.
In this chapter, I will look at the conundrum that people who engage with management theory face. The question at the centre of this chapter is what do organizational behaviour theories do? In order to answer this question, I will begin by giving a brief sketch of what it is that we mean by the idea of theory. In the second part, I will consider why theories matter by looking at empirical research that has investigated the impact that management ideas have on organizations. I will use this research to make the case that theories of management have a profound and far-reaching affect on organizational life. In the third part of the chapter, I consider the way that management knowledge is used. I argue that theories of organizational behaviour can be used for four purposes: predicting how an organization may work, understanding why organizations operate as they do, critiquing the way that organizations currently work, and creating new ways of organizing. I conclude the chapter by arguing that a competent user of theories of OB should try to develop skills in each of these areas.
WHAT IS THEORY?
Think of the typical tools and practices that managers use. These tools are not things like a hammer or an egg beater. Rather, they are neatly packaged theories. Some examples include batteries of personality tests that are used during recruitment, ideas about team formation that are pushed into practice during a project, or theories about organizational structure that are put into play during corporate change processes. So in order to know what an OB tool or practice can do, it is vital that we consider what theories do.
The first question we must clearly answer is this: What exactly do we mean by theory? The word âtheoryâ is derived from the Greek word, theoria. This means contemplation, speculation or taking a view of things. The modern usage of the word owes a great deal to the sciences. A scientific approach tends to define theories as âa statement of relations among concepts within a set of boundary assumptions and constraintsâ (Bacharach, 1989: 496. For a similar example see Dubin, 1969 and Whetten, 1989). A few things jump out if we unpick this terse definition. First, theory is about concepts. That is, a theory is made up of abstract representations of reality that are embodied in some kind of language or symbolism. For instance, the theories of power are typically made up of abstract concepts such as ânetworksâ and âpowerâ (for examples of network and power research see: Burt, 1992). These concepts are abstract because they include a whole range of empirical instances. For instance, the abstract concept of networks can be used to describe a relationship between friends, lovers, or colleagues.
The second characteristic of theory is that it is about the relationship between concepts. That is, a theory seeks to establish how two abstract representations fit together. For instance, a theory of power might suggest that powerful organizational members (the first abstract representation) have a diverse social network (the second abstract representation). Notice that these two abstract representations are linked by a causal relationship. This theory states that diverse social networks cause an individual to be powerful. According to some, rooting out these causal relationships is the bread and butter of theory. The job of the theorist is to suggest possible relationships between concepts which the more empirically inclined can go away and test.
The third characteristic of theory is that it seeks to explain why concepts fit together as they do. This involves developing an explanation of exactly why concept one might have an affect on concept two. For instance, theories of network power provide an explanation of why more network = more power. They do this by suggesting that social networks provide individuals with access to valuable information, resources, and opportunities to influence decision makers which in turn provide an individual with power. Such explanations require the theorist to argue out the links between the two concepts. This can be done by careful logical deduction where the theorist argues if A is the case, then B must be true. It can also be done by deducing links between concepts from previously undertaken empirical work. For instance, studies of network power have pieced together empirical evidence from existing empirical studies of power and resources, information and opportunities. No matter which way theorists go about this task, they must substantiate a link between concepts.
The final aspect of theory is the identification of the broad context or constraints under which it works. To put this in a different way, a theory involves identifying the conditions under which two concepts relate. For instance, a theory about power and networks might identify the idea that bigger networks = greater power works in some cultural contexts rather than others. Often an enthusiastic theory builder will try to bracket off these potentially pesky problems by labelling them as âcontextual variablesâ. For instance, the theory about networks and power might identify cultural context as a contextual variable. By identifying when and where a concept might work and when and where it might not work, a theorist is able to make her model more bounded and potentially more convincing.
The sciences certainly provide us with a very clear and well defined answer to what a theory might be. However, this approach does not provide the only indication of what theory can be. A second, quite different approach to theory can be found in the humanities. This sense of what theory is was produced by the theoretical turn that occurred during the second part of the twentieth century. At a minimum, theory in this tradition involves an âabstention from empiricist or positivist knowledges through insight into their sleeping structuresâ (Hunter, 2006: 87). That is, the theorist is not so concerned with simply describing the world of happenings and events as it appears to them. In fact, the theorist is profoundly suspicious of any sense data that comes their way. For them, our experiences and understandings of the social world are mediated by some kind of theory. In revealing how a theory mediates data, they dig out the âsleeping structuresâ that arrange and order our experiences of the social world. This involves a kind of revelation whereby the theorist seeks to identify and discover the ancient ideas that infuse how we see the world. This act of rooting out the theories we use to see the world also involves changing ourselves. For Terry Eagleton, âtheory of this kind comes about when we are forced into a new self-consciousness about what we are doingâ (2003: 27). Indeed, theory ultimately aims to help us cultivate a certain sense of âopenness to beingâ (Hunter, 2006) that might involve not only the ability to recognize ourselves as if for the first time, but also see the world anew. According to proponents in the humanities, theory is not a model which relates a set of concepts. Rather, theory is a way of approaching the world based on constant questioning and looking beyond the immediate data and common sense which come so easily to hand.
DOES THEORY MATTER?
Now that I have established what theory is, let me ask a slightly more troubling question: does theory actually matter? People dealing with theories of organizational behaviour are often very sceptical. They regard theory as nothing more than something to keep credulous managers amused, consultants paid, and academics busy. However, this assumption does not seem to stack up against the evidence. Studies of the impact of management theories have noted the widespread and profound affect that management ideas have on organizations and our lives more generally. They include a profound affect on routines, cognitions, fashion, ideology, language, distribution of capital, and technology. Let us consider each of these points in turn.
One of the first areas of research that noticed the profound affect that management ideas had on organizational life was the field of routines. Researchers working in this field argue that organizations are not only groups of people who do things. They are also collectives who act together. Studies of organizational routines show how collective processes of trial and error gradually become the everyday practices of an organization (Levitt and March, 1988; Feldman, 2003). These routines, which we take for granted, are often the result of hard-won collective lessons. For instance, the process of hiring a new candidate usually involves a well trodden routine. However, these routines are often the result of incremental and collective processes of learning in organizations. Collective trial-and-error processes are brought together as a theory proper through some kind of scientific endeavour. For instance, the practices of corporate culture during the 1980s were later rationalised and mapped out in formal theories of the organization (Barley, Meyer and Gash, 1989). What had been a rather fluid and fuzzy collection of practices developed into a theory. The greatest advantage is that these ideas could be transported and translated across different workplaces (Czarniawska and Sevon, 1996). Theories about how we do relatively mundane things such as hire people, fix a minor problem, or communicate with our boss are gradually embedded in our practices, but our routines are rarely the result of our own learning. If this was the case, our routines would be quite stunted. Rather, routines are often the result of the learning of others which have been packaged into theories. Consider the example of hiring again. When a newly minted HR manager is faced with the prospect of hiring new staff, they do not just rely on their own experience. Instead, they reach for some of the standard templates of how you hire. The result is that one template of hiring quickly becomes the common sense that managers cling to. This reminds us that theories of organizational behaviour matter because they can rapidly become embedded into our un-thought everyday actions.
Once researchers had begun to recognize how theories could have a profound affect on routines, they began to ask how this occurred. One result was that new theories changed how people in organizations thought about and understood the social world. This stream of research has repeatedly uncovered how shared theories focus the minds of people working in certain industries (Lant, 2002), which happens when a certain âcognitive schemeâ spreads throughout an industry. Such schemes typically shape how people think about and interpret that industry. For instance, the rise of new understanding of what the Catholic church should do during the 1960s led to fundamental changes in the structure of the organization, how priests relate to the laity, and how religious services should be conducted (Bartunek, 1984). Similarly, who companies understand to be their competitors are shaped by collective theories which circulate within an industry (Porac and Thomas, 1990). For instance, members of the Scottish textile industry thought about it using common cognitive schemes which were divided along the lines of Hosiery, Knitware and Lace (Porac, Thomas and Baden-Fuller, 1989). These divisions were based on shared cognitive schemes. The result was that companies operating in each sector of the market understood their competitors in a rather limited and circumscribed fashion. Shared cognitive schemes can shape what skilled groups understand as appropriate and reasonable at certain moments. For instance, in his re-reading of the Mann Gulch disaster, Karl Weick (1993) argues that a group of firefighters refused to drop their heavy tools and run from a dangerous wildfire because they understood their tools as being part of their professional identity as firefighters. The theories of fire-safety which were drummed into these unfortunate young men during their training and socialization cost them their lives. The lesson that we can draw from these studies is that theories can become inscribed into shared cognitive schemes within organizations, sometimes with life and death consequences.
Theories donât just shape our routines and our thinking. They can also create whole industries. Studies of management fashions have pointed out that there is a whole sector of the economy in many advanced capitalist countries that is devoted to the development and circulation of management ideas (Abrahamson, 1991; Abrahamson and Fairchild, 1999). Participants in this economy include the producers of fashionable new ideas such as academics, intellectuals, and management gurus. There is also a large group of people whose time is devoted to circulating management fashions such as management consultants, advisers, and the business press. Finally, there are many willing and eager consumers of management knowledge such as governments, employees and, of course, management themselves. Indeed the management knowledge sector plays an increasingly important role as part of the post-industrial economy. In fact, some of the more desirable jobs that the young and ambitious aspire to occupy are as circulators of management fashion. These positions are so coveted because not only do they pay well, but they also confer on the position holder a degree of status; their holders are the witch doctors of the post-modern metropolis, able to prescribe all sorts of common sense and hokum tricked out with fancy trappings.
Theories are not just peopleâs bread and butter. They also provide an orientation and collective sets of ideas. Indeed, these ideas provide strict and appealing normative schemes for managers. They give a set answer to disturbing...