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Definition of serendipity (n)

: the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for

By definition, you can’t increase the amount of serendipity in your life. Or can you? 

Jason Roberts explores the idea that luck has an expandable surface area in his blog Codus Operandi, How to Increase Your Luck Surface Area. Jason explores effective communication and passion as the driving forces of luck. 

Passion. Effective communication. Luck. These are words with cultural baggage and, except for effective communication, are hard to replicate. 

One of my favorite explorations of entrepreneurs is How I Built This with Guy Raz. Guy often ends his interview by asking the guest, “whether luck or skill/hard work accounts for their success?”

I’ve got my history with this question. We had Change Agents In Residence (CAIRs) that visited during our monthly retreats at Bainbridge Graduate Institute. Think Ben Cohen (Ben & Jerry’s), Adam Lowry (Method), or Kim Jordan (New Belgium Brewery). Gifford interviewed the CAIRS during fireside chats and always asked some form of the luck/skill question. Luck was a repeat answer, and it drove me crazy. How do I replicate luck?

I prefer the word serendipity for a few reasons. First, it’s fun to say. Second, I don’t think it has the same baggage as luck. To me, serendipity implies more of a karmic approach to luck. In other words, you get back what you put out into the world. A quirk of karmic accounting is that credits and debits accrue over lifetimes. There is no guarantee that what you put out there will come back to you in this life, much less annually or quarterly. 

I know that doing good for the sake of doing doesn’t solve the replicability problem, but it should make the world a better place:) 

Serendipity does offer one replicable lesson, recognizing serendipity. Being aware of and appreciating what’s working in your life is often called gratitude. Science supports the benefits of gratitude. Daily, weekly, and monthly gratitude practices are simple (e.g., write three things down) and ubiquitous in the “self-help” space. 

Gratitude is a daily practice for me. The bar can be as low as the sleep I did get after a rough night. There are also moments of real breakthroughs, uncanny luck, and beauty. 

What are you grateful for?

A single carbon footprint is a valuable tool. It shows failure in a system within a year. No matter how ambitious your goals might be, you get to see where you’re spending carbon where’d you rather not. Old fleet vehicles? Inefficient buildings? Refrigerants for old HVAC systems? The CO₂e to dollar translation is the essential step.*

*If/when there is a price on carbon, this step could be even more consequential. You’ll have first cost, lifecycle cost, and carbon cost:) 

Carbon footprints take time to pull together, especially the first one. The core metrics aren’t that challenging; it’s usually finding who the data owner is and getting it from them. Once you have a rhythm established, annual updates are more comfortable and straightforward.

The value of carbon footprints compounds over time. No matter how you get to years’ worth of carbon footprints, it tells the story of the organization and the sustainability team. What you’re looking for overtime is trends, in particular, their direction. A critical step for carbon footprints over time is normalization. You want to make sure you’re comparing proverbial apples to apples. 

Big picture, you want to make sure you’re normalizing towards metrics that align with your organization’s key metrics. This could be headcount, square footage, fleets, vehicle miles traveled, data transferred, etc., or all of the above. The resolution you pursue for normalization depends on both your resources and the value of resolution. For example, weather normalization is beneficial for building performance. A building reacting to a frigid winter or a scorching summer is a worthwhile consideration for a property management group. This same data might be much less important for a business that leases its space. 

The most critical thing you’re trying to understand in this analysis is why. Why are some metrics trending up? Down? Neutral? Are these outcomes correlated with anything? Is the relationship causal? For me, many of these questions bubble up during analysis. 

The hardest part of this whole process is relating the outcomes in a meaningful way. Specifically, there are times when markets or policy is outpacing a sustainability department. A timely fleet upgrade might look like a big improvement when, in reality, it was prescribed. This can be a hard pill to swallow.

To share a personal story, I led a carbon footprint for a large organization from an operations perspective. It was a carbon footprint for a campus. What we saw in the data is substantial growth across almost every metric and a declining carbon footprint. Sustainability FTW! Right? Unfortunately, no. 

Over the ten-year life of the organizations’ sustainability department campus had grown by thousands of square feet, there were numerous renovations and demolitions. The grid had transformed from mostly coal to substantial proportions of natural gas and increasing renewables. These are huge levers within a carbon footprint. Replacing a code building built in the 1950s with one built in the 2000s is a quantum leap forward. Scaling this change across hundreds of thousands of square feet, nevermind countless minor asset upgrades, add up. In addition to efficiency gains, natural gas has roughly half the greenhouse impact of coal (which is a hot debate itself), renewables are at least 20 times less damaging than coal. Changes in the market represented the bulk (99%) of positive outcomes. This news did not go over well.  

Does it make sense that the market and policies were more effective across these metrics than a stereotypical sustainability department? Yes. Is this easy to accept or justify? Definitely not. 

Wrapping this story up. As unpopular as it was to share that building code and a cleaner grid did more for carbon footprint than existing programs built trust with decision-makers. The data and analysis aligned with the narratives of the budget office, operations, and even donors. Further, it isn’t surprising that things like double-sided printing, transportation challenges, and game-day recycling aren’t moving the needle. Beyond the failure to separate correlation from causation, this sustainability department missed out on years of high-leverage work based on metrics they were actively tracking. Oof. 

There are a lot of ways to get here:

1. Your organization is religious about carbon footprints, and the raw data is easily accessible.
2. Your organization has a patchier history of carbon footprints and a 
3. You’re currently working through the first-ever carbon footprint.

With the caveat that I’m experienced with carbon footprints but no expert, this is what I think good carbon footprint hygiene looks like:

• Up to date carbon footprint for your requisite fiscal year (FY) or calendar year (CY) – do whatever your budget team does.
  • Depending on what’s important to you and the bodies you report to, Scope 1, Scope 2, and elements of Scope 3 are valuable. Scope 1 and Scope 2 are the bare minimum. 
• History of full and partial carbon footprints
• Raw data files supporting all key metrics
• A table of assumptions or approaches to normalizing data
  • Macro: Inflation, fuel prices,
  • Micro: Organizational growth/change (personnel, square feet, fleet, etc.)
• Any commentary, feedback, or anecdotal analysis

Compassion noun – sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress together with a desire to alleviate it

One of the most critical lenses I use is compassion. It’s an imperfect lens imperfectly applied. Like everyone, I have moments where I should have been far more compassionate and plenty of moments where I hope that others had enough compassion for me.

I’ve written about why I don’t engage in climate debates. Beyond protecting my one non-renewable resource (time), my other reason (excuse?) is compassion.

Many things make the topic of climate change (the climate crisis, the Anthropocene, the 6th Great Extinction, sustainability, etc. ) challenging. I mean, how much is encapsulated in that last sentence? Your entire life. Your legacy. Your unbroken genetic lineage. The fate of your species. The future of literally trillions of lives, human and otherwise.

For a species that notoriously struggles with scale (for example, the difference between a million and a billion), we’re in danger of triggering an extreme reach barrier. More simply, we’re rubbing up against fear, guilt, and sadness. There is a whole web of secondary emotions, triggers, and reactions. 

Elisabeth Kübler-Ross describes grief’s five stages (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance). I’m not a psychologist, but I think the word “stages” was poorly chosen, only because we believe we can complete a stage. We all know someone who is stuck in one of these stages, sometimes their whole life. The topic of climate change can trigger any/all of the five.

Finally, western culture tends to have a poor relationship with death (which, to me, says a lot about our approach to life). 

Layering all of these perspectives together is where compassion becomes so critically important. When we talk about climate change, we’re mashing a LOT of buttons. I might think I’m sharing a few facts, or climate news, or attempting to “educate.” The vast majority of the time, you’re frying someone’s emotional circuits. They’re thinking about their:

• Contribution
• Future
• Past
• Family
• Career
• Legacy
• Safety/security
• Favorite places, foods, views, animals
• Contribution to future generations

As I try to describe this, I keep imagining explosive or uncontrolled decompression—the sudden structural failure of an idea or even identity. 

The compassionate part of all of us should empathize and even sympathize with the emotions that bubble up here. We’re challenging the lizard brain. We’re hardwired to support our progeny (at the population-level), to protect our collective genetic material in a way that it can continue to be expressed. 

We also know that hard conversations, especially conversations that relate to survival, need to happen. We’ve all given the sharp safety bark. Warning a driver, catching a friend on a walk or hike, or moving a precarious knife in the kitchen.

The unfortunate thing about climate change is that we’re not talking about an immediate safety concern. We’re often talking about an array of lifestyle choices. Something more akin to nutrition, exercise, self-care, or substance abuse. We’ve all seen this in some form, and I think we all know how hard these conversations are. We rarely take the time and effort to intervene fully, we sometimes make a light-hearted joke or proclamation or talk behind someone’s back, and we mostly ignore. Some of this is cultural, and for me, a lot of it is capacity. I probably don’t have the resources (skills, training, or material) to help. I think we’ve had all this moment of impotence, and it’s sad to see someone in your circles suffering.

Now think of all the tact, professionalism, composure, humility, and patience a talented psychologist, therapist, addiction counselor, dietician, personal trainer, bar-tender, or friend enters into a difficult lifestyle conversation. There is so much personalization. 

• Active listening
• compassion in the sequencing
• picking meaningful battles
• Understanding in the journey
• building confidence and celebrating small wins
• Sharing tools, lens, or approaches
• Reframing personal truths

Is this how you talk about climate change? With this much skill? Compassion? Love?

Ideas are easier to move forward on when they are someone else’s, preferably the person who is deciding.

The bulk of the progress I have made has come from embracing other people’s ideas. In many instances, these were my ideas, as much as anyone can have an original thought. To people working closely with me, it looks like I’m implanting my ideas in decision-makers’ heads only to be conveniently regurgitated. It seems like inception. I can promise you that I’m not entering people’s dream states to implant ideas, and I don’t have superpowers. 

The truth is much more fundamental. Typically, two things are going on:

1. Mise en place or “everything in its place.”
2. A proximate solution is almost always better than “my” solution.

There are some critical elements here.

• You need to understand your outcome. 
• You need to know the multiple pathways to a successful outcome.
  • What speeds it up?
  • What slows it down?
• You should know the steps required to get there.
• You should be aware of critical pre-conditions.
• Ideally, you should have a good idea of what comes next.

So much of this comes back to The Briefcase Technique. 

Mise en place

You see mise en place when you walk into a Chipotle or Subway. Everything that your meal requires is prepared and laid out thoughtfully for assembly.

Mise en place is a French culinary concept meaning “everything in its place.” In the culinary world, +80% of the work is done, often before opening, to ensure that service goes smoothly. Kitchen staff inventory, prepare and organize every element of the menu. 

If you walked into a fully prepped kitchen and I said, “we need to make an omelet,” you’d grab a pan, oil, eggs, and start working through the meats, veggies, and cheese you think belong in an omelet. If the prep station had diverse ingredients (i.e., a large budget), you might get more creative (salmon and goat cheese!). The same could be said for a more stripped-down prep station.  

Mise en place is how you achieve inception. Your audience is trying to solve the same problem as you, and it is your job to layout (prep) the opportunity thoughtfully. The way you frame a problem (“we need to make an omelet”), share possible solutions (ingredients + tools), and introduce constraints (budget, speed, and partners), will define the outcome. If you do this well, one of two things will happen. 

1. Your audience will regurgitate your solution.
2. Your audience will give you a better solution, often based mainly on your suggested solution (a scramble!)

Sticking with the breakfast analogy, if your audience recommends waffles, we’re off base:) We’re either solving the wrong problem or miscommunicated some aspect of the setup. 

The 80% of work you’re doing 

Proximate Solutions 

I think many people assume that their idea is the A+ idea and that slight deviations are not as good, for whatever reason. The fact of the matter is that we’re usually looking for solutions that aren’t likely to fail, so let’s call them C+. 

“Perfect is the enemy of the good.” – Voltaire

This quote is used so often it might sound trite, but it is a critical management and consensus-building tool. This is where proximate solutions come in. If you’re pitching an idea and someone has a slight tweak that doesn’t threaten the project’s outcome, take it. Their thumbprint on your project is worth far more than you might think. 

As expert or experienced as I might be in my profession, the same can be said for pretty much everyone I work with. I could have put some great thinking into a problem, experience, perspective, and even just distance from the problem can yield much better results. 

Jim Collins has a monograph on flywheels called “Turning the Flywheel” that I highly recommend. 

Taking a second to define a flywheel, it “is a heavy wheel for opposing and moderating by its inertia any fluctuation of speed in the machinery with which it revolves.”

Jim Collins uses it as a metaphor for business model inertia. Regardless of what sector your in, there is a flywheel. It might be poorly built, off-balance, or even turning the wrong direction, but it’s there. Amazon’s flywheel is a great way to simplify the overall concept:

If you focus on the core flywheel (sellers -> selection -> customer experience -> traffic), you can imagine how Amazon moved from books to the “everything store.” The second system (lower cost structure -> lower price) demonstrates how vertical integration has served their bottom line. 

Acknowledging that Amazon has many problems (opportunities), you can see how a thoughtfully built and reinforced flywheel can stabilize or grow a business. Further, the flywheel helps identify the inputs you need to accelerate or add mass. 

I find this concept so helpful because I believe sustainability should live close to the business model. The words “business model” tend not to play well for most people. It’s a jargony way to talk about how your organization gets and deploys resources. Most commonly, we’re talking about money. At a fundamental level, this is what I’m talking about:

• Government – tax dollars, sometimes grants
• Nonprofit – grants, donations, sometimes contracts
• For-profit – customers (B2B, B2C, government contracts, etc.)

Even if you’re living at home, you get resources from somewhere and deal with customers:)

Taking a second, what are your inputs for your organization? Outputs? Can you draw a basic flywheel? Where can you add/subtract to make things flow more smoothly? Can you speed up the overall cycle? Are there secondary or tertiary systems that influence the flywheel? Of your programs, realized or potential, are there any fits? 

Walk the Talk Technique: Dogfooding

There is a business concept called “eating your own dog food,” where staff tests and improves the companies products. Think of Apple employees using iPhones, iPads, and MacBooks. Or Microsoft employees using Microsoft Office and Outlook to conduct business. The hypothesis is that the products will improve and adapt more rapidly if they are intimately tied to the product. 

There is a bit of chicken and egg going on here. Many products start as internal solutions, something someone builds to make their day-to-day better. With some internal success, these products can be developed for external users. An oft-repeated piece of advice to entrepreneurs is to solve your own problems first, with the logic that at the very least, there’s a market of one.

This strategy absolutely applies to sustainability professionals. You should have hands-on experience with the systems you are changing. This is product research 101. Here are some places that this might show up:

• Recycling/Compost/Waste 
• Public Transit
• Changes in operations
• Tour sustainable construction sites to hear what works and what doesn’t
• First-hand experience with replacement products
• Food
• Habits

This is how you build trust and credibility. You should be testing, testing, testing.