In chapter 11 of her 1941 book on religion, The Mind of the Maker, Dorothy L. Sayers explains four characteristics of real life problems that differ from detective story problems:
1. The detective problem is always soluble. It is, in fact, constructed for the express purpose of being solved, and when the solution is found, the problem no longer exists. . . . It is unwise to suppose that all human experiences present problems of this kind.
2. The detective problem is completely soluble: no loose ends or unsatisfactory enigmas are left anywhere. The solution provides for everything and every question that is asked is answered. We are not left with a balance of probabilities in favor of one conclusion or another. . . .
3. The detective problem is solved in the same terms in which it is set. Here is one of the most striking differences between the detective problem and the work of the creative imagination. The detective problem is deliberately set in such a manner that it can be solved without stepping outside its terms of reference.
Taking for illustration the real life problem of unemployment, she says that we may suspect that the “problem of Unemployment” is not soluble in the terms in which it is set. . . . It limits us to the consideration of Employment only; it does not allow us even to consider the Work itself. . . . and that what we ought to be asking is a totally different set of questions about Work and Money. (She states some of the questions.)
4. The detective problem is finite; when it is solved, there is an end of it. . . . We really persuaded ourselves that peace was something that could be achieved by a device, by a set of regulations, by a League of Nations or some other form of constitution, that would “solve” the whole matter once and for all. We continue to delude ourselves into the belief that “when the war is over” we shall “this time” discover the trick, the magic formula, that will stop the sun in heaven, arrest the course of events, make further exertion unnecessary. Last time we failed to achieve this end – and why? Chiefly because we supposed it to be achievable. Because we looked at peace and security as a problem to be solved and not as a work to be made.
In consequence of the above:
When we examine these four characteristics of the detective problem, we begin to see why it is so easy to look upon all the phenomena of life in terms of “problem and solution,” and also why the “solution” is so seldom satisfactory, even when we think we have reached it. For in order to persuade ourselves that we can “solve” life, we have only to define it in terms which admit of solution.
To this the Saunterer adds that as for interdisciplinary problem solving, which involves people trained in a number of academic subjects, this cannot overcome the objection of claiming solutions to problems which do not admit of tidy, closed solution.
The Saunterer leaves you with a possibility to ponder regarding the environmental and natural resources professions: Are the universities, with the problem solving techniques they teach, and with their capstone courses where students “solve” “real world problems,” producing less good than harm? Yes? No? Unanswerable? Silly question?
I'm not sure what kind of problem solving skills are being taught in school now. But I know that most planning efforts I'm involved in now approach "planning problems" much differently than they did 25 years ago.
We first try to define a [set of]desired future condition[s]. Often easier said than done. Then we examine strategies to move toward a DFC. We take a close look at managing the objective and sometimes even subjective risks. We emphasize monitoring as a key component of a commitment to adaptive management.
In short, we are more humble about our ability to build consensus and to predict the future.
We use many of the same tools (bigger, better, faster and more complicated perhaps) but we
Seems to me that we are making some process.
As I said, I'm not sure if you are teaching this today. Not sure, in fact, whether you really could teach this process to students, as it requires a good bit of humility, wonder and awe. In short supply, at least when I was student.
Posted by: Mark Rasmussen | November 20, 2005 at 07:33 PM