Monday, 2 November 2009

Speech by Glen Boreham, ACO Board Member and IBM Managing Director

IBM Managing Director and ACO Board Member Glen Boreham made this speech at a private concert recently.

Ladies and gentlemen, the ACO has been called ‘the best small orchestra in the world’ – and after that amazing performance, it’s easy to see why. Thank you Richard and the orchestra – it’s a privilege to hear you play in such an intimate setting.

In my introduction, you heard me talk about IBM’s long standing partnership with the ACO. And you may wonder – why are businesses interested in the arts? I mean, if I look at myself, I have little artistic talent. I can’t play a single instrument. As my wife Kim will tell you – I certainly can’t dance, although I occasionally think I can.

My closest brush with the arts came when I went to a choir school, but I grew quickly, and the Brothers decided my best use was to put me in the front row of the football team, rather than the front row of the choir. I think today we call that human capital management!

So, why does IBM invest considerable funds into the arts and the ACO? Why do I happily invest my time to be on the board of the ACO and Chair of Screen Australia?

The answer is: I believe there is an inextricable link, a link between a vibrant arts community supporting a thinking and open society, sustaining a creative and multi-talented workforce that then provides the foundation for innovation and success in business.

Many of you will know, IBM in Australia operates a large and complex business. But at our heart, what we do is quite simple: we help organisations to solve business problems they either can’t solve themselves or simply don’t want to because they have other priorities.

As my colleagues sit in IBM meeting rooms around the country, it is very clear that when we have a client problem out on the table, if we all look at that challenge through an identical lens – whether it is education, culture, age or gender – we will all come up with the same, stock standard, uninspired answer.

To me, there is no doubt that, if there is diversity around the table, it helps create that spark, that creativity, that unearths the unexpected solution to the problem.

Now, we’ve just seen extraordinary evidence of human creativity. And I’m interested in supporting that because – while I can’t tell you what the future will look like – I guarantee it will require all of us to be more creative and innovative than we have ever been. And, as some of you who’ve attended these events before will know, it worries me that our current education system doesn’t support this.

And I’m not alone in this concern. A recent OECD report on the need to refocus spending actually said: “...the costs of educational underperformance are higher than the costs of the [global] financial crisis.”

Yet it seems, all around the world, education systems are failing our children. Children enter the school system with an enormous capacity for creativity.

Creativity Expert, Sir Ken Robinson tells a great story about this (1): it was the kindergarten’s nativity play and they got to the part when the three kings deliver their gifts. So there’s three little boys with home-made crowns.

The first one says “I bring you gold”.
The second one says “I bring you myrrh”.
And the third one says “Hey, Frank sent this!”

The point is, at age 5, kids will take a chance. If they don’t know, they’ll have a go – they’re not frightened of being wrong. Of course, being wrong is not the same as being innovative – but if you’re not prepared to be wrong, you’ll never come up with anything original.

In Australia’s current education system, mistakes are the worst things you can make. And the result is we are educating the creativity out of our students. By the time we’re adults, we’ve lost that capacity to fearlessly have a go – we’ve become frightened of being wrong and, as individuals and companies, we suffer as a result – because we need people to have the courage to be creative.

As Picasso said: “all children are born artists, the problem is to remain an artist as we grow up.”

I’m interested in how people like Richard, Melissa or Julian managed to remain an artist. Imagine Richard aged 7 at his Wollongong primary school – imagine being his music teacher. How tough would that have been?

“Richard, you must learn to play with the other children and stop getting ahead!”

You some of you know, I’ve lived all over the world, in Europe and Japan. And I’ve always been struck by the fact that every education system on earth has the same hierarchy of subjects – at the top are maths and then the national language, then the sciences, the humanities, and, at the very bottom, are the arts.

There isn’t an education system on the planet that teaches music every day in the same way we teach maths. Why not? I think maths is very important, but so is music. Surely creativity is just as important as literacy and numeracy – why don’t we treat it with the same status?

The answer is that our current education system was created to meet the needs of the industrial world – with the most useful subjects for the industrial age at the top. So, you were often steered away from the subjects you actually liked doing – and were good at – on the grounds that you wouldn’t be able to get a job doing it.

Wouldn’t you love to have been a fly on the wall when a teenage Richard Tognetti met with his careers officer.

“Let me see Richard, what do you want to be? A professional musician? Oh dear... How about something more sensible – perhaps IT?”

The trouble is, academic ability dominates our view of intelligence – and, because of that, our education system allows many highly talented, even brilliant people to think they have nothing to offer. Yet, as people like Richard Branson and Coco Chanel have proved – it’s possible to be quite successful without a university education...

I believe, we need to radically rethink our view of intelligence – in fact we need to take into account Ken Robinson’s 3 Ds of intelligence.

Human intelligence is: Diverse, Dynamic, and Distinct.

It’s diverse because we think about the world in the way we experience it. We think visually, in sound, in abstract terms and in movement. That’s why we shouldn’t be teaching kids in just one modality.

Some kids do remember information if they copy it off the board, or read it on a handout, but most of them don’t. They need opportunities to learn by drawing, or singing, or talking about the information.

You may not know this, but computer games don’t come with instructions any more – kids simply learn them intuitively – and notice how fast they do it. How quickly would they learn to play the computer game if we sat them in a classroom and made them copy the instructions off the white board?

The second thing we need to take into account is that intelligence is dynamic – it’s interactive. Innovation (by which I mean original ideas that have value) comes about from the interaction of different ways of thinking.

And finally, we need to take into account the fact that intelligence is distinct. In other words, everyone has their own kind of intelligence – and we need an education system that identifies and nurtures every child’s very different talents – because we need all of them to drive innovation.

Let me tell you the true story of Gillian Lynne as told in Ken Robinson’s Book The Element(1), who went to school in England in the 1930s. Gillian was hopeless at school – she couldn’t concentrate, she kept fidgeting. In fact, the school thought her problems were so severe, she was packed off to the hospital to see a specialist.

So this little girl sat on her hands for 20 minutes while her mother told the doctor all of Gillian’s problems at school. When she finished, the doctor said to the little girl: “I need to speak to your mother privately, so we’ll go out of the room for a minute”. But as they left, he turned on the radio. And as soon as they were in the corridor he said to her mother: “Just stand here a moment and see what she does.”

Immediately, the little girl was on her feet, moving to the music. And after a while, the doctor said: “Gillian isn’t sick – she’s a dancer – take her to a dancing school.” And so her mother did.

As Gillian later said: “I can’t tell you how wonderful it was. It was full of people like me – people who have to move to think.”

Gillian Lynne went on to be a soloist at the Royal Ballet and ended up as one of the world’s most successful choreographers, perhaps best well known for commercial hits like Cats and Phantom of the Opera. She has had a hugely successful and fulfilling life.

I wonder what would have happened to Gillian in our education system? Would we have punished her, criticised her work and told her to sit still – rather than harnessing her distinct and wonderful brand of intelligence?

I believe our only hope for the future is to adopt a new concept of intelligence and rethink the fundamental principles in which we are educating our children.

Tonight we are celebrating the gift of human creativity – but we need to harness this gift outside the arts – and bring it into the business world.

The only way we will do this is:
• by putting arts on an equal footing with Maths and English
• by seeing our children for the hope that they are
• and by educating them for a future that we cannot imagine

Tonight, the ACO has shown us the magic that happens when young people are allowed to let their distinct form of intelligence shine. Imagine what we could achieve as a country if every child had the same chance as these wonderful musicians.
____________________________________________________________________________
1 This is one of the stories in Ken Robinson’s new book “The Element: How finding your passion changes everything”

6 comments:

Emily Lime said...

It is disturbing to think that a child like Gillian today, having been shipped off to see a doctor, would likely have been diagnosed with ADHD and prescribed medication. There is much wisdom here - all children learn in different ways and it is a terrible shame that our education system is so stubbornly focussed on just a few of them. It is so encouraging to see someone in Glen's role singing the praises of arts education and insisting it be given higher and equal priority at school!

I myself was heavily involved in arts programs and studied music and drama into senior school (and university). I can remember being bitterly disappointed that my high music grade counted for less than my mediocre chemistry and maths grades when it came to my university entrance marking. I was also a very average English student at school, and it was not until well into my university degree that I realised I had a talent for writing. Today, word-based occupations are an important part of my varied career.

Many thanks for posting this valuable transcription.

ChrisN said...

There was a boy I know who was virtually illiterate and innumerate when he was about at the end of Primary School. His self esteem was extremely low - he thought he was just dumb.

His parents took him to many "-ists" when he was young trying to work out why he couldn't read or write, couldn't understand maths etc... He was declared mentally impaired, dyslexic, ADHD and so on. It turned out he had a problem with his eyes - a lazy eye, and once it was diagnosed, and corrected with special glasses, he could virtually see properly for the first time.

But... he still thought he was dumb and that's all there was to it. His parents put him into a good high school which had a universal music program for all year 7 students. He was confronted one day with a variety of instruments and discovered to his delight that he was the only one who could make a good sound on a 'cello. After some initial difficulty in learning to read (symbols) music, he was taught how and from that point on - nothing could stop him. He excelled and accelerated past all his year group and above in playing the 'cello. But... more than that he blossomed into a wonderful young man and started to do well in all his studies.

He became a great reader, devouring complex literature and whilst never was a fan, got along with maths! His parents sent him to Sydney Conservatorium High School, where he took his talents and the joy of music further. He was even elected Vice Captain of the school by his peers and managed to make it through the HSC... to the University where he now is excelling in 1st Year Music performance - a talented young musician and a charming gentleman. And still exceeding all expectations of him.

THAT is what music can do.

Janis said...

I've never been entirely certain that there's a difference between math, language, and music to be honest. Stunt one, and you stunt them all.

I remember being in graduate school for physics and knowing an awful lots of PhDs in that and mathematics. I never knew one who didn't play an instrument, some extremely well. I started on classical piano when I was ten and kept going until I went away to college. The fellow I was seeing at the time (also in the physics department) played guitar and viola, and sang. There were always enough students in every year's graduate class to have a rock band, and a good one. Most of the professors were classical musicians, and one was an extremely celebrated sitar player who would constantly show up on Indian television. A friend of mine who was getting her PhD in condensed matter physics at another university was principal trumpet in their wind ensemble. The mathematicians were similarly accomplished.

In fact, I have never met a single research scientist in the physical sciences who is not also a musician. (And most of them were polyglots, myself included.)

So even if an educational system wants to concentrate on math and language, detaching them from one another and music is insane. They are all touching inside the human brain. Starve one, you starve them all.

Caspian said...

So much of what we do at school emphasises solitary achievement - yet what we learn when we enter the world of work is that the most effective people work best with others.

Music and drama can teach us much about how to relate to and work with others, in addition to nurturing our creativity. They deserve a stronger place in our schools.

Janis said...

Caspian, agreed. I often think that the creativity and welcoming atmosphere for innovation that the sciences offers is completely underappreciated by artistic types. Ultimately, I found science infinitely more creative than the paint-by-numbers attitude of classical music training, where plasying the piano well meant only pushing the buttons and levers in the right order as quickly as possible. (There's a lot of unfair and dangerous polarization of left brain versus right brain in the world, and few people seem aware that it's not as simple as "viola == right brain" and "calculator == left brain." Each can be used in ways that feed and starve creativity.)

However, I also think that the sciences fail to understand what you just said: the arts offer us all an acute awareness that if you don't communicate what you're doing beyond yourself well, it doesn't count for much. You must take your audience into account; scientists can pretend they don't have to, which is a terrible, terrible attitude to have. You guys know that you have to work to reach others.

Janis said...

Sorry to blab so much -- I'm still thinking about the whole left/right-brain thing and the way we assume that they are two different things, and that (like I said) viola == right brain, and calculator == left brain.

Anyone who's studied classical music formally and picked up the almost impossible-to-avoid attitude that it's paint-by-numbers knows quite well that music can be as soaked with rigidity and orthodoxy as anything else. A lot of musicians have probably heard some variation on, "Stop playing around and ornamenting that part of the music! Play the notes as written!" with the attitude that the performer was not supposed to add to what Chopin did but just reproduce it as error-free as possible. That's a pretty creativity-free attitude, and it's common in music teaching.

And I've personally been through tons of classes in the hardest of hard sciences and mathematics where innovation and creativity were celebrated and pointed to as things to emulate. I've taken coding classes where I told the professor that I could write the program the way he just said it couldn't be done -- and did it. And I didn't get my hand slapped, and wasn't told that only the way that Turing did it was the correct and proper way. In the sciences, any innovation and any strange, new, clever way to do something is generally celebrated. That's how we find the new questions to ask, after all.

Unfortunately, in typical classical music education a lot of times, the opposite is the case, and improvising, messing around, or otherwise being innovative will get your hands slapped in that "We want to hear Beethoven, not you!" sort of way.

So it's really dangerous to conclude that the arts == creative and the sciences/math == not creative. Each can be taught and done in a way that causes the human desire to create something new to either blossom or atrophy.

I saw the ACO in Santa Barbara a while back, and on the way up to the theater, I listened to some old recordings of Russell Oberlin singing Haendel arias. Oberlin was great, but the music! My god, you never heard a stuffier, less creative, more rigid way of performing Baroque music in your life. It was like listening to a machine. Then, when I heard the ACO tear into it, they were much more lively and vigorous.

I've seen some math teachers punish students for trying new ways to figure out how to do long division. And I've seen others (most of mine, happily) reward students for finding new ways to approach problems, or even new problems to approach. It's just not as easy as saying "music creative, math not." Believe me, being told to play it again until you get all the notes right while someone stands there and hits the side of the piano with a yardstick keeping time isn't exactly creative.