The Great Irony of Our Immediate World - Brass Tack ThinkingI had a brilliant conversation with Justin Kozuch last evening on Twitter. If you don’t know Justin, you should. Smart, introspective, determined to find more in all of this, just like I am. I really like talking with him because he’s always looking more closely at something, which is a rare and wonderful quality in humans and it delights me when I find it.

We were talking about feeling the need to “push the envelope” more in social conversations. I’ve even said this myself, many times, about needing to step into more uncomfortable territory. But as we were talking, I realized I’d like to amend that statement a bit and refine it some.

We need willingness to embrace discomfort, yes. I stand by that. But we also desperately need to embrace the non-instant nature of having deeper, more complex discussions about the long-ranging impact of all of this stuff. Most especially the impact on people, from corporate cultures to our performance and reward systems and how we approach hiring and teaching our teams. The discussions that yield more questions than they often do clear, direct answers that we can run right out and implement.

The great irony of the speed and immediacy of the web and the velocity of social interactions is that the far-flung implications – the ones that reach to the very (dare I say) soul of a business – are gradual. Difficult. Meandering and messy. They require careful cultivation, a delicate weaving of very concrete things like process with very philosophical things like intent and the emotional drivers behind our businesses and our work.

I’m afraid we’ve confused controversy with progress in some places. I don’t believe that progressive conversation must come with fireworks and heated debate (though it often does, they are not one and the same). The big “bang” is a great impetus for discussion, but it’s only the start.

Maybe what we’re lacking isn’t so much the tolerance for crunchy conversations – a word that Justin has helped me endorse here – but rather the patience and discipline to have them in forums and situations that are longer than 140 characters, that aren’t defined by a witty repost to a blog comment. That are carried out over coffee tables or the length of a bar, or heaven forbid in our own board rooms and communities and team meetings. That take far more than a single session or a clever social network chat.

It’s the endurance of the marathon we’re missing, not necessarily the shakeup of the sprint.

The stuff that’s shifting under our feet is gradual, like the many years of begrudging creak of tectonic plates or the eternally patient shaping of wind erosion. Eventually, though, something gives and shifts, erupts or breaks or quakes.

The discussions surrounding that – both learning to expect it and knowing how to respond in the wake of it – are where our brains and our very best minds will be best spent for the foreseeable future. Those are the hardest of conversations, and the ones that will be most profoundly worthwhile.