Author: drnicko

Awarded an MBE for services to arts-based businesses, I am passionate about generating inspiring, socially engaging, creative practice within educational contexts both nationally and internationally.

Like, snog, shag, marry, avoid? The relationship guide for would be business mentors.

Business mentoring has been getting a great press recently and for lots of good reasons: having a mentor is a great life choice for anyone in any stage of their life, not just when they’re in the process of starting up their business. But what does being a mentor actually entail? How can you become an effective one and ensure that your mentoring skills and knowledge are applied for their maximum effect?

Many mentors will tell you that the heart of a good mentor – mentee relationship is exactly that: it’s a relationship. It’s all about you and them. Simples, as the meerkat relationship managers might put it.

Well, yes, in one very important sense the process is based on a relationship between two people, rather than a person and a tree or a person and a pet budgie. On the other hand, just waving it away as merely a matter of ‘relationship’ as if that explained everything isn’t quite enough.

Assessing potential relationships along the ‘Like, snog, shag, marry, avoid?’ paradigm is one way of planning a mentoring relationship but opens itself up to all sorts of misunderstandings, walks of shame and life long regrets.

We might start by seeing the mentor – mentee relationship as a dialogue between two people whilst understanding that there are at least a further two people sat on the shoulders of each party whispering into the ear of that party. This ‘dialogue’ is really between four parents and their two children who are still wrestling out their own voice in the world.

We might also recognise that both the mentor and mentee (does anyone else squirm at that word, ‘mentee?”) exist in all kinds of contexts, the economic being just one. They are both rooted into complex soil systems of other relationships, networks, practices and habits: all these affect the ‘relationship’ between the two parties and need exploring to ensure a healthy relationship between the two of them.

And finally, we need to recognise that if a mentor mentee relationship has undercurrents of power surging under the surface – if the mentor is driven by the need to ‘do good’ or ‘help people’ for example – then there is a real risk that the ‘Like, snog, shag, marry, avoid?’ paradigm becomes the modus operandi of that relationship. And whilst that might be fun for a few star filled nights on far flung beaches, the hangovers of the morning after might not be what the business needs in the long term.

Bring on the ‘Un-look’ button: it’s time for a Social Media vaccine!

Every now and then there’s a furore in Social Media Land about some wisecrack’s recent film, photograph or audio track. Its notoriety spreads across the web in a matter of minutes and before you know it, the producers of aforesaid media deposit can claim levels of popularity unrivalled by any other film, photograph or audio track since… well, since about an hour ago.

It’s about time someone invented an ‘unlook’ or ‘unclick’ or ‘unhear’ button for those media exudates. The likes of the two bit film production companies who operate out of a bedroom in Neasden and produce their sleazy and dumbed down media offerings about Liverpool benefit from the likes of YouTube precisely because of its viral nature: you watch their clip, your viewing gets logged and as the views go up, their message spreads and they justify their effort because of the rapidly increasing viewing figures.

If there was an ‘unlook’ button on YouTube, you could see what all the fuss was about, click ‘unlook’, remove your viewing figure from their viewing figures and prevent their work from going viral. 1,000,000 flies might eat shit but we don’t have to join them. Its about time we realised that ‘going viral’ is how Corona Virus operates and the sooner some one can invent an antiviral, social media agent, the better.

An Open Letter to David Bowie: Scotland needs You!

Dear David,

We have thought for some time that your absence on the contemporary UK political scene has had a deleterious effect on the output of the once impressive BBC 1 programme, The Brit Awards.

Since your demise, the programme has struggled with ratings and the quality of the up and coming acts is not what it was. I remember the day when your first appearance was marked with shock and surprise in lower suburbia. Then there followed years of neglect by you of the political life of our shores save for one misinterpreted Nazi salute at Victoria Station in London in 1976.

But no longer: your intervention last night on the impending referendum on Scottish Independence was an act of genius, produced and performed in your own inimitable style.

Dressing up as Kate Moss was the first clue.  We all knew the moment that ‘she’ walked on stage that it was really you tottering along in those high heels, trying to avoid the cables and rubber mats which threatened to reveal your carefully dressed secret.  The second sign was when some lackey pretended to mime Kate Moss’s voice in a gruff Bromley accent.  You mimicking kate Moss who in turn mimicked a middle age Bromley-ite mimicking Kate Moss?  Only you, David, only you.

But you saved the tour de force to the last minute:  ‘Scotland, stay with us’ mewed ‘Kate’. Simple. Direct. Powerful.  Momentous, in the only way you knew how.  Some might say that your opinion was trite; that it was vacuous; that it showed staggering hypocrisy given your place of residence and given your tax affairs; that it was the signs of a worn out rocker who couldn’t summon up anything like a half decent album and who should have hung up his heels at the turn of the century.

But not us.  Your rejuvenated and disruptive intervention at the BRITS last night gave all us long standing David Bowie fans cause for hope and a belief that there is life in the old dog yet.  There is one more album to come, isn’t there David? Something which will summon up all that was brilliant about Man Who Sold The World, Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane: there is, isn’t there David? There is more to come, isn’t there?

Mr Bowie, perhaps you could be so kind as to tell us when you will be gracing the public stage with your wit and repartee? Your suits dazzled us, your shoes were a mystery to my younger brother and sister and your hair do left my school friends and I in fits of giggles. Pray, please be so kind as to tell us by return of post when we can expect to hear something that will match the emotional depths of the haunting refrain that was ‘The Laughing Gnome’.

Your favourable response is eagerly awaited.

“I want to put something back into the community.” Heaven help that community.

What strikes fear into any self respecting higher education tutor, business start up mentor or Miss World Judge? The phrase “I want to put something back into the community”.

Whilst it wants to suggest acts of beneficence and good deeds, all too often the phrase points to a rather nasty slime trail of good intentions over which other people have to delicately step over in order to avoid the results of someone else’s emotional incontinence.

Putting something back in the community begs the question of what did you take out of it in the first place that now requires to be replaced? Are we talking about the Elgin Marbles here? Or gas fracked from underneath our neighbours lawn whilst they were out shopping in Blackpool? Or the settling of old scores which now need resolving by some swift spade work?

Good intentions in the community which go sour was predicted by the German sociologist Frederick Tonnies in the late 19th century. He wrote about community as resulting from one of two types of relationship: one based on Gemeinschaft or one based on Gesellschaft. The former suggests relationships built on blood, family and kith and kin: the latter points to relationships built on contingency, contract and rationality.

He argued that whilst community was constantly a story of one in which our relationships shifted from Gemeinschaft to Gesellschaft because of the allure of money, fame and fortune, in actual fact we continually hankered after a return to Gemeinschaft and the emotional security that entailed.

In this world view, taking something from your community – whether this be underground gas, pensions, or works of art – meant that whilst it might enable you to large it for a few years in Sodom and Gomorrah, it would only be a matter of time before you repented and wanted to return the remainder of the earth, money or artworks from whence they came.

Whether there is anything worth returning to the community that had been previously desecrated is another matter altogether. So when people profess to want to put something back into the community, it’s always worth asking yourself, whose community, for what reason and on whose terms and at what future cost.

Coming Closer to Home: what it’s like to live upside down.

When we were kids we’d occasionally get perplexed about how people could live upside down in Australia and not fall off the planet.

Having two European guests, Anton and Srdjan,  take root in your home town, courtesy of a Youth in Action Grant, makes you realise that up-side-down-ness isn’t about gravity at all but much more about how you drink, eat, navigate local traffic and your own national identity within the wider European maelstrom of identities.

Hosting European guests has many pleasures to it – showing them your favourite pub topping the list of course – but the most entertaining one is looking at them looking at us and finding out that it’s a perpetual source of amusement for them.

The most obvious example is of course the fact that we Brits drive on the wrong side of the road, compared with most of the rest of the world. There are a lot of early visit gags about the lads sitting in the wrong car seat and pretending to drive with imaginary steering wheels and hammering imaginary brake pedals in pseudo emergency stops. No-one’s hurt though and there’s no damage down.

English beer is also a source of wonder and bemusement. Not only does it have no head to it but it also tastes of bread according to Anton.  Or is something that would be fed to the pigs in the summer, if you lived in Srdjan’s home town. The idea that we drink this stuff at all leaves the boys incredulous.

Things get more complicated when we talk about what constitutes typical English food. The road the boys live on is awash with Chinese, Greek, Turkish, Italian and Indian takeaways and when we point out that the most popular meal in the country is Tandoori Chicken, this too provokes a lot of head scratching, puzzled looks and eventual boredom when we discuss some of the consequences of being an ex-colonial power.

Perhaps our up-side-down-ness is something that we should recognise and enjoy more frequently. It would allow us to challenge all sorts of international orthodoxies like McDonalds, Starbucks and NATO for instance. We could cheerfully opt out of some of the tackier sides of modern day living with the reason that we’re an upside down kind of nation and still haven’t fallen off the planet despite the gravitational pull of the large multinational conglomerates.

There are lots of benefits to being funded by the EU: and realising that you live most of your life upside down is probably one of the best.

What is a SuperBusiness? 9 questions which will help shape the answer.

Spark Up in Liverpool makes much of creating 500 SuperBusinesses in 5 years across the Liverpool City Region. In a region whose business support services have generated many types of business and entrepreneurial activity, what is it that will make a SuperBusiness?

On one very straight forward level it has to mean starting up businesses which generate super levels of employment, turnover and profitability; businesses which can make a major contribution to the regional business economy. But being a SuperBusiness is much, much more than the bottom line metrics and measurable outputs.

SuperBusinesses will not merely operate in the Liverpool City region: they will have an acutely developed moral compass which which help shape it for the better: This means for the social and cultural ‘better’ as well as the economic ‘better’.

SuperBusinesses could shape either the region from hell – much like Tokyo in Bladerunners – or they could shape an en-nobled, ennobling, civilised and civilising space in which people’s entrepreneurial behaviour is directed towards the greater good. A region with 500 SuperBusinesses could either be filled with wide boys, hoods and spivs – or it could be like Venice. Or both. The choice is ours.

So what will tell us whether we’re seeing a SuperBusiness emerge in the next 5 years? And what might be the defining characteristics of those ventures? There will be several indicators which tell us whether we’re dealing with a SuperBusiness or just a bunch of charlatans out to make a fast buck and they’ll be seen in their responses to the following questions:

How are you engaging with the poor, excluded and disillusioned?
How are you giving air time and political influence to individual spirits?
How are you connecting nano-, micro- and mini- SMEs with the larger corporate players?
How are you recognising and responding to local culture – not just traditional, mainstream arts and museums but the myriad of ways in which people go about things and create value, difference and impact?
How are you valuing diversity and difference?
How are you not only tolerating dissent but appreciating it?
How are regulating yourselves and your public behaviours?
How are you valuing risk, challenge and uncertainty?
How are you engaging with the Japanese concept of wabi-sabi: a comprehensive Japanese world view or aesthetic centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection. The aesthetic is sometimes described as one of beauty that is “imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete” (Wikipedia)

This is not just a job for the entrepreneurs and eager business men and women. If we want our SuperBusinesses to shape our city region we’re probably best starting at home. Our own businesses, whether super or not, could also begin to address those questions. If we want those SuperBusinesses to emerge from the gloom of the recent recession and spark up our region, we will all need to become at least a little bit ‘super’ in our own businesses for once in a while too.

For more information about Spark Up, please visit the website here.

Hanging out at the International Festival of Business: how is a business a school?

Contrary to what many employers might hanker after, potential employees do not arrive on their doorsteps for their first day of work as fully formed potential employees of the year. Employers might bemoan the lack of literacy, numeracy, ICT-cosy-ability, the ability to walk and talk at the same time and other human being related skills, but the proto-employee will have learnt loads of other things since they were in school, college, university or at Her Majesty’s Pleasure. Whether they were taught those things is another matter: but they will have certainly learnt loads of things albeit not necessarily of the employer-user-friendly-type.

That’s because as human beings our natural state of being is to learn, to be inquisitive, to be curious and to construct meaning. It’s what separates us from the dolphins, the chimps and the allegedly intelligent fungus that lives on leaf mould in Patagonia. None of these things construct meaning like human beings and if you’re not sure about that, just go to your nearest pub on a Friday after work and tell me what you see constructing meaning. Not a dolphin in sight and certainly no chimpanzee holding forth on why Manchester United are in such steep decline. No: it’s the human being in the room who is making meaning from their every day learnt experiences, many of which are forged in the workplace.

So, businesses might help themselves if they recognised that they have a stealth-like educational function to their raison d’être. This isn’t about passing exams or following curriculum or heaven forbid just learning a list of mechanical skills to evidence in their portfolio of competences: it’s much more important than that as it’s about making social sense of our existence, economic sense for our families and cultural sense for our communities.

Businesses may not think they’re schools but they so have a powerful educational mission and could do everyone a favour if they stepped up to the plate a lot more frequently.

More to follow on education and business at our June conference: http://www.allourfutures.co.uk

Hanging out at the International Festival of Business: how is a school a business?

Some time after the Tony Blair’s testosterone fuelled ‘education education education’ mantra started being chanted around UK school playgrounds, I found myself working with a number of schools around Liverpool who were preparing for the tsunami of funding that was heading their way.

Whether this was for kids from rich families or for kids from poor families who were starting with a deficit of life chances before they even stepped through the school gates or the kids in the middle who were neither GandT (Gifted and Talented, aka troubled, awkward and difficult to manage) nor HTR (Hard-to-Teach aka troubled, awkward and difficult to manage) but were still able to attract funding due to their perceived invisibility, the fact was that many schools found themselves awash with cash. Sometimes more than they knew what to do with and sometimes more than was good for them.

This led to many schools to take their fiduciary duties even more seriously and to believe that that they now had to start acting as if they were businesses.

This might involve the appointment of a ‘business manager‘ (sometimes a redeployed bursar who would have struggled in any commercial organisation, never mind one that was pretending to be one); the consideration of students as ‘customers‘ and the teeth grinding proposition that the curriculum was something that students could pick and choose from much like a visit to their favourite sweet shop on a Saturday afternoon.

Now don’t get me wrong: I’m enthusiastic about personalising curriculum where it makes sense and responds to students’ interests in a meaningful and authentic manner: but all too often the personalisation agenda became subsumed within a Disneyfied agenda which threw any critical faculties off the fourth floor of the head teachers executive lounge suite and sold sold sold a morally bankrupted curriculum which valued the individual at all costs: visible in one school I visited which encouraged students to think of themselves as the Me PLC of their generation.

From now on, schools were businesses, students were customers and teaching subjects was something you only did in the privacy of your own home. ‘Subject knowledge’ became a dirty word used between consenting adults and certainly not something you would wax lyrical about in public.

There was of course a lot of resistance to this tendency of talking about schools as business centres; but more often than not, the rhetoric was seductive and many schools accepted their new identity as business start ups with the minimum of squealing.

What the consequences are of that turn of affairs will be explored in future posts – and of course at our next conference, All Our Futures which will be held in Liverpool in June 2014. Further details are here.

All Our Futures: The Business of Education or the Education of Business?

We’re producing our next All Our Futures international education conference in June this year and, as it’s part of the International Festival of Business (IFB) which is being promoted across the Liverpool City Region, we thought it only right and proper to align the focus of the conference with the energy of IFB itself.

Which is all very well until you start thinking about the thorny relationship between those two apparently innocent concepts: ‘business’ and ‘education’.

Surely (and here I’m reminded of Prof. Derek Colquhoun, my Ph.D supervisor’s comment that any sentence that starts with ‘surely’ should ring lots of alarm bells immediately) the links between education and business are obvious and trouble free?

Educating children is about preparing them to get work, create work and become valuable net contributing members of our economy isn’t it? Surely education must attend to the needs of business in order to make sure that our net contributing members of the economy (aka children) can take their fit and rightful place at the big dining table of the Big Society? Surely schools should remember that fundamentally they are businesses in their own right and grow up and behave as such?

Well, surely these ‘surelys’ are going to get a right good going over on this blog in the months to come and throughout All Our Futures too. I hope you can join us – either online or in person – because we surely are going to put the world to rights during that week!

For more information please visit http://www.allourfutures.co.uk