I am not an architect!
In the September issue of "Inside O.R.", the president of the Operational Research Society (UK), Geoff Royston, wrote about the image of O.R. Inside O.R. is the monthly newsletter of the O R Society
Many years ago I wrote a short piece for Inside O.R. (back when it was called the O.R. Newsletter) in which I discussed the problem that O.R., as seen by others, suffered from some misclassification problems.
Many years ago I wrote a short piece for Inside O.R. (back when it was called the O.R. Newsletter) in which I discussed the problem that O.R., as seen by others, suffered from some misclassification problems.
In particular
that others tended to assume ‘operational’ meant tactical, that ‘research’
implied impractical, and that they too often equated the tools of O.R.
(especially mathematics and computing) with O.R. itself.
I suggested
that one approach to overcome or at least mitigate this problem would be to
present our work so it aligned more clearly with a ‘general problem cycle’ that
would be familiar to managers, The idea was that presentation of our work on
these lines might provide a more marketable agenda for O.R. than one based on
the tools of the trade or on narrowly technical problems.
To accompany
that generic approach, I suggested that we might usefully present ourselves as
‘general analysts’. This drew on some analogies with general practitioners of
medicine (who, in examination, diagnosis and prescription, follow their own
version of the above problem cycle).
The analogy
with medicine, particularly with the work of a G.P., seemed - still seems -
useful. Firstly it places the focus on a client and their problem rather than
on tools and techniques. Medicine needs and uses disciplines like biochemistry
or physiology, but as a means to the practical end of helping a patient, not
for knowledge for its own sake. Similarly, O.R. needs and uses disciplines like
mathematics or computer science, not as ends but as means to its primary goal
of helping with a client’s (or at least a potential client’s) problems.
Secondly, it
emphasizes the importance of taking a systemic view. G.P.s need to take a
holistic approach when considering the problems of, and interventions for,
their patients, who frequently present with multiple conditions with more than
one cause. A systems perspective is also essential in public health medicine,
to help understand and control the spread of disease in a community. Just as
the G.P. or the public health medic, by taking a broad systemic view, offers
something distinct to patients and the public from those who specialise in a
narrower area such as orthopaedics or cardiology, the O.R. professional, seen
as a general analyst, offers something different to the world of management and
organisation from that provided by those working in a single more specialised area
such as economics or psychology.
So, medicine
provides one useful analogy for us. But there is another profession with which
analogy might usefully be drawn: architecture.
Like the O.R.
worker, the architect is concerned with helping in a structured way (literally
so in the latter’s case!) with a client’s problem, and also like the O.R.
worker, the architect uses diagrams and models as virtual worlds on which to
experiment. Like clinicians, architects follow their own version of the general
problem cycle, but with a particular emphasis on innovation and the problems of
design.
Design is
challenging because it requires conceiving and assessing what can be a vast
range of alternatives, with much iteration to find feasible and desirable
solutions, because many design problems cannot be neatly subdivided into
independent sub-problems, and because the process of designing, especially when
done together with clients, often brings about changes in the perception of
what needs to be designed.
Sounds
familiar? The O.R. professional is often faced with problems that have
something in common with the challenges faced by an architect. Although we may
sometimes be asked simply to help with the choice between pre-existing options,
more often we are given - or discover - a much more open-ended problem: the
conception and creation of something that will improve a situation. That is a
broad question of design; yet O.R. is persistently characterised as being primarily
concerned with the important but narrower task of assisting decisions. This
sells O.R. short.
The importance
of design for operational research and management science was recognised in the
1960s by early luminaries such as the Nobel laureate Herbert Simon. He
considered design to be the ‘core of all professional training’, including in
management, and in his seminal book ‘The Sciences of the Artificial’ called for
‘ a science of design’ which would concern itself with topics such as the representation
of design problems and the search for alternatives. He included in this science
many of the then new methods of operational research.
Simon warned
that design skills were being squeezed out of management training, and the
later well-known series of papers on O.R. by Russ Ackoff noted that such skills
were also being sidelined in management science. Ackoff argued that traditional
techniques of analysis – techniques he had done much to promulgate - were insufficient
for tackling important managerial and societal problems. He argued that also
needed were the skills of synthesis His stated view
was that the paradigm of O.R. should involve ‘designing a desirable future’ and
his explicit challenge to O.R. professionals was ‘not so much to improve our
methods of evaluation, but to improve our methods of design and invention’. Such
concerns were noted and acted on by a number of people in the O.R community, at
least on this side of the Atlantic. The most obvious
result was the development of what came to be called ‘soft O.R.’. This sought
to widen the role of the O.R. professional from technical expert with an
emphasis on solving precise and sometimes unrealistic problems to that of
reflective inquirer with an emphasis on framing and structuring problems of the
real world in helpful ways.
This
undoubtedly helped widen the vision of O.R. and did much to meet the criticisms
of Ackoff and others, but the development of ‘soft O.R.’ appears more a
response to the general criticism on the limitations of ‘hard’ technical
approaches than to the specific call to accord a central role to design. There
has been the occasional acknowledgement of the relevance of aspects of design
thinking to O.R. – for example the strong but hidden similarities between engineering
design and O.R. has been discussed by Albert Holzman, the implications for
MS/OR of the shift in managerial interest from analysis for marginal
improvements to design of complete systems has been noted by Robert O’Keefe and
the relationships between operations management and design have been considered
by Jan Holmstrom. Generally however such recognition has been sparse. A
passable case for the defence, or at least a plea in mitigation, could be made
that O.R. is deeply involved with design, but just does not make this
sufficiently explicit. We should not forget that O.R. in the modern era was
founded in a challenge of design - creating the British air defence information
system that played such a crucial role in WW2. Design clearly continues to
feature in O.R. work to this day - a look at, say, the winners over the years
of the OR Society President’s Medal, or of the INFORMS Edelman award, shows
that many of the projects have involved sizeable amounts of system design work.
So maybe the main challenge is to recognise, publicise and develop this hidden
expertise.
How
might we market our design skills more explicitly and effectively? (The slogan
developed to help publicise O.R., ‘the science of better’, hints at something
that goes beyond decision making but the associated publicity materials have
not highlighted design thinking). More importantly perhaps, how can we improve our
design skills - how do we educate and train O.R. people better for these more
creative aspects of our work? Developing our capability to embed technical
problem solving and decision analysis in a wider activity of reflective inquiry
and innovative design must surely increase our range, relevance and impact.
In
operational research we need the diagnostic expertise of a physician. We need
the architect’s skills of design. We are – or should be - both medics and
architects.
In the following issue, my letter to the editor was printed, with the heading "I am not an architect"
In
September's issue, the president suggested two analogies for O.R.,
medicine and architecture, to which you added the third of engineering.
While I am happy with the first and the third, I have some reservations about the second.
The
analogy that an O.R. scientist acts as a doctor is a helpful one; the
doctor's aim is to solve the problem - in this case, the problem of
sickness or pain, and therefore enters a cycle of collecting
information, intervening and participating in a feedback loop with the
client (patient). It is especially helpful because the natural
association of the work of a doctor is to solve a problem. There are
limits to the analogy, particularly when one thinks of hospital
specialists whose expertise is concerned with particular problems.
Again,
engineers solve problems, and they too enter a feedback loop of
collecting information and data, modifying their design or product,
making tests and evaluations with the aim of making something work
successfully. The downside of this analogy is that the first
association one may make with the profession of "engineer" is not as a
problem-solver, but as the motor mechanic or building site worker.
There
are many positive aspects to thinking about O.R. scientists and
architects as coming from similar moulds. Architects use models to
think with and their models or diagrams may go through several
iterations as they engage with other people; just like O.R. people.
Architects are concerned with a large system, and see the place of their
work in an overall system; just like O.R. people. Architects are
concerned with multiple academic disciplines and using different kinds
of resources well; just like O.R. people. Architecture combines art and
science, a reminder for all of us that operational research involves
creativity. But, for many people, these are not the associations that
will spring to mind when the job-title "architect" is mentioned. That's
where I have my problems with the analogy. They are two, interlinked
problems. One is concerned about the definition of the client; the
other is concerned with the timescale of the feedback to the architect.
An architect may have many "clients" for a project; the builder, the
owner of the building, the people who occupy the building, visitors to
the building, those who maintain the building. A good architect will
think of each of these, but will not be able to interact directly or
indirectly with them all. And there is no easy mechanism to alter the
architect's work with feedback once the construction is complete. Part
of the best O.R. is that iterative loop of feedback and change once the
clients (seen and unseen) have started to implement the results of the
O.R. work. The second problem is timescale. Generally an architect's
work is there for many years. Feedback is not possible for the users,
owners, occupiers, etc, after many years. (For example, my house is
almost 80 years old. I am unable to feed comments and suggestions to
the architect about aspects of poor design of the house.) There may be
some O.R. results which last for years, but they are very few. Perhaps a
better analogy would be the designer of a fitted kitchen, something
which is semi-permanent within the building.
Hence, I am happy to be thought of as a doctor, engineer - but I am not an architect!
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