When people see our conceptual maps for the first time, they often ask “Where do you start?!”
It took us a few years to notice that we actually always start in the same place. When we’re trying to figure out the underlying structure of a visualisation, the first question is not actually “where” but “when”.
Here’s the outline of a typical transformation story. I’m going to illustrate the point using a drawing, but the same logic would apply to any type of diagram or map or slide you want to create:
“We’re constantly spinning plates – we spend more time trying to get IT to work than we do serving clients, and the chasm between them and us keeps getting wider. The competition is getting smarter, so If we don’t do anything it will be so easy for them to steal our business. Once the new IT platform is built, we can re-train staff to get them spend more time with clients.”
So if you were going to draw a picture of this, where would you start? If you’re a graphic recorder, you’re probably already picking up on the metaphors of spinning plates, chasms, stealing etc.
But this is like building muscles when you don’t have a skeleton. You need to get the structure right first. And the key to doing this is to start with time.
What are the timezones here? You’ve got the current state (“we are spinning plates”), the future state with a new IT platform (“we can re-train staff”) and the future state doing nothing (“competition steals our business”). What each element looks like is a secondary consideration – first of all you have to delineate the areas that they will appear in:
The structural challenge of visualisation is that you’re trying to condense the four dimensions of everyday experience into two dimensions of a static image. You can use perspective to trick the eye into seeing the three dimensions of space, but what do you do with the fourth dimension of time?
The answer as ever is to go back to experience.
Experience is hierarchical. Right now I am sat on a chair, in a studio, on the third floor, in an office building, in Oxford city centre, in Oxfordshire, in England, in the United Kingdom etc. etc. But no matter how many degrees of spatial containment I extend the hierarchy back to, time as I experience it will always be a dimension “outside” of these spatial ones. The people outside the window are in a different space, but at the same time.
What’s slightly confusing is that we do use metaphors to reify time (i.e. treat it as a thing) – “time is passing slowly”, “we’re running out of time to do this” etc. – but these are descriptions of subjective experience – even if time appears to be moving slowly in here, we don’t believe everyone outside is in the future! We assume that the outermost frame boundarying our collective experiences is a shared timeframe.
What’s the significance of this? It means that when you’re mapping anything that involves some kind of change of state, you need to start by figuring out what the time zones are that the content exists within. This applies just as much whether you are mapping a complex system, graphic recording, making a mindmap or composing a Powerpoint slide.