Failure as an Opportunity?

Amy Edmondson hat das Scheitern zu ihrem Beruf gemacht – und ist damit ausgesprochen erfolgreich. Seit 30 Jahren forscht die Inhaberin der Novartis-Professur für Leadership und Management an der Harvard Business School zu Fehlern, Irrtümern und eben zum Scheitern.

Sie kennt seine Ursachen, seine Auswirkungen – und die Möglichkeiten, die das Scheitern eröffnen kann. Niemand macht gerne Fehler. Irrtümer und Misserfolge versuchen wir zu vermeiden – und das aus gutem Grund. Sie kosten nicht nur Zeit, Mühe und oft auch Geld, sondern kränken auch unser Selbstwertgefühl und lassen uns vor uns selbst und vor anderen schlecht dastehen.

Irrtümer und Misserfolge versuchen wir zu vermeiden – und das aus gutem Grund

Erst in jüngerer Zeit wird das Fehlermachen als Tugend gefeiert und von notorischen Optimisten sogar als Notwendigkeit auf dem Weg zum Erfolg betrachtet. Dieses Narrativ ist vor allem in der populärpsychologischen Ratgeberliteratur und in der Start-up-Szene beliebt, wo sich neuerdings sogenannte „Fuck-up Nights“ und „Lemon Dinners“ gescheiterter Grün- der großer Beliebtheit erfreuen.

Warum das Scheitern als Tugend gefeiert wird

Die flotten Sprüche vom Scheitern als Chance – sie nennt es „Happy-Talk aus dem Silicon Valley“– sieht die Harvard-Professorin zwar mit Ironie, aber im Grundsatz stimmt sie zu und zitiert Winston Churchill: „Erfolg ist, von Misserfolg zu Misserfolg zu stolpern, ohne die Begeisterung zu verlieren.“

Das Scheitern – und manchmal nur das Scheitern – kann uns weiterbringen. Doch es bedarf einer funktionierenden Fehlerkultur, um die „guten“ Fehlleistungen zu erkennen –those with the potential to be the right kind of "wrong." "The Right Kind of Wrong" is also the title of Edmondson's latest book, which will be published in German as "Wertvolle Fehler" by Vahlen Verlag this fall.

Failure – and sometimes only failure – can move us forward

When we think of valuable mistakes, we quickly have a romantic notion of Eureka moments in our minds: the physicist who is inspired by a failed experiment to come up with a new idea, or the band that creates a new style because of their inability to sound like their idols.

Some errors were followed by strokes of genius

In 1931, photographers Lee Miller and Man Ray discovered the effect of pseudo-solarization due to a certain incidence of light during the development of their pictures. But where others before them would have only seen a mistake in the inversion of light and dark on the prints, the two discovered a novel visual poetry that expanded the possibilities of photography and made the technique a stylistic device.

Viagra was supposed to lower blood pressure and treat angina pectoris

Even modern products are often accompanied by heroic stories about their journey from failure to success. The adhesive used in Post-its was originally intended to hold airplanes together, which it obviously couldn't do. Today, almost everyone uses the handy sticky notes – and are glad that the material was never used in aviation.

Viagra was supposed to lower blood pressure and treat angina pectoris, but did so inadequately in a 1992 test. Nevertheless, the test subjects were reluctant to give their pills back. When the manufacturer Pfizer found out why, it marked the start of a billion-dollar business.

But that is not the rule. Not every mistake contains the seed of a stroke of genius. Most of the time, it is really about preventing disruptions in processes, making operations safer or improving and further developing things. And, as Amy Edmondson says, not all mistakes are equal.

Not every mistake contains the seed of a stroke of genius

In fact, she establishes a multi-level hierarchy, starting with conscious and almost always harmful violations of clear and simple procedures, and extending through various stages of carelessness, lack of skills, and overwhelm, to testing hypotheses and experimental tests.

In the latter, a high proportion of failures has always been factored into science. There are areas where a failure rate of 70 percent or more is absolutely common.

Thomas Alva Edison, inventor of the phonograph, the light bulb, and the electric chair, is credited with the quote: "I have not failed. I've just found ten thousand ways that won't work." However, it is also common in science—or should be—to analyze mistakes and discuss them openly.

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When we think of valuable mistakes, we quickly have a romantic notion of Eureka moments in mind.

This is precisely what is often lacking elsewhere. "We put off the difficult work of thinking about what we've done wrong," says Amy Edmondson. "Sometimes we resist admitting that we've failed at all. We feel ashamed of our failure and immediately recognize the mistakes of others."

We deny, gloss over, and move on quickly—or blame circumstances and other people for the things that went wrong. Every child learns sooner or later to evade blame by pointing fingers at others. Over time, this becomes a habit. Worse, this habit leads us to avoid goals or challenges that we might fail at."

The important thing is: you must be able to talk about personal failure without fear

From this mental trap, one must first free oneself – in self-reflection but also in teams, groups, families, and communities. Only where one can speak openly and without fear about mistakes is there a chance to learn from them. About her life theme of failure, Amy Edmondson found through her own experience of failure.

She had already been successfully working in large companies for a decade, including for the star architect Buckminster Fuller, when she decided to go back to university and work in research. But her first research in 1993 led her into a crisis. For this, she surveyed doctor and nursing teams in hospitals about the quality of their collaboration.

Well-cooperating teams did not make fewer mistakes than the others, but more.

Her thesis at the time: Teams that work well and cooperatively together also make fewer mistakes. Then the data on incorrect medication allocations came in. And the well-cooperating teams did not make fewer mistakes than the others, but more.

Edmondson was taken aback. Was her hypothesis invalid? Was all the work for nothing? Had she failed? And that on her first project. How was she to admit such a defeat to her professors?

She went through the entire spectrum of disappointment, shame, and fear that we all know when we've messed something up. Then she came across an interesting point in the teams' questionnaires. The well-cooperating teams were also more open, more fearless in communicating with each other.

Amy Edmondson had found her research field.

Could it be that they hadn't actually made more mistakes than the others, but had only reported more because they could admit mistakes more fearlessly? Another study confirmed exactly that. And Amy Edmondson had found her research field.

Above all, she still advocates for psychological safety, for the certainty that each individual within a team or organization can address and admit mistakes without fear of being punished or ostracized.

There are three categories of errors.

This applies to all three categories of errors identified by Edmondson: simple, informed, and complex. The simple ones should indeed be corrected straightforwardly. Informed errors are those that emerge in trials, tests, experiments, product launches, in situations that are new and untested.

"Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly."

Here, the potential for failures as well as innovations and insights through failure is naturally the highest. And sometimes also the price that is paid. Amy Edmondson quotes Robert F. Kennedy: "Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly."

That sounds dramatic. And sometimes it's also tough. Edmondson provides a disturbing example from medicine. In the early 1950s, when the first heart-lung machines were used in open-heart surgeries, patients – including children – died during operations because unforeseen complications arose. However, from these tragic failures, doctors learned and improved their methods and devices. Today, such procedures save thousands of lives annually.

Complex errors occur when many unpredictable external influences are at play, but also when simple errors arise and are not uncovered and addressed within an ignorant or fear-ridden structure or hierarchy.

The key is to recognize and name small errors before they grow into big problems or culminate in disasters. As a professor of management, Amy Edmondson usually gains her insights from observations in companies. But much of it can be transferred to other spheres.

Decisive is to recognize and name small mistakes before they grow into big problems

And especially when it comes to the question of the origin and handling of complex misdevelopments, a comparison with politics and society is obvious. Often enough, one has the feeling that the blame game, the game of assigning and passing on blame, is the only game that short-term apparent successes for one's own position are considered more important than solving long-term and deeper-seated problems.

Even Amy Edmondson cannot promise us an error-free life or a paradise born from failure. In a world full of uncertainties and diverse, unmanageable dependencies and networks, mistakes are inevitable. She makes that unmistakably clear.

The only question is how to deal with them and navigate between them. And there Amy Edmondson quotes the agile and enduring music legend Dolly Parton: "We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails correctly."

Appearing in October: Valuable Mistakes by Amy Edmondson