Transparency: figuring it out in public

Transparency is all the rage these days, especially in the coworking community. Since transparency goes hand-in-hand with honesty and authenticity, it’s sad commentary that this is a trend rather than the norm. But spin is a mighty thing — look at politics, religion, and advertising — they’re all about spin. Breaking out of the spin cycle and moving to a place of transparency has been no easy feat for a lot of companies.

I’m a big fan of being open about my business. The LaunchPad team uses Basecamp from 37signals for almost all our project management and correspondence. My mantra is “if it’s not in Basecamp, it doesn’t exist.” It’s not just for the core team, it’s also for our contractors. Marketing, architecture, IT… everyone can check in with everyone else and offer project feedback in the form of opinions, suggestions, criticisms, and connections. I’m absolutely positive this is helping us come up with a strong, unique model for our business.

And even though no one wants to look bad or be wrong, all of us are wrong at some point. Getting that out in the open — whether we point out our own mistakes or acknowledge the mistakes when they’re pointed out to us — keeps dust bunnies from turning into monsters under the bed.

That said, I think some people misinterpret the word transparency, confusing it with the idea that you must, at all times, be an open book. About everything. That I disagree with. There is such a thing as TMI.

Sometimes the “too much” is about over-sharing unnecessary details and moot points that can only lead to bogging down a discussion and getting off track. Other times, it’s easier, more efficient, and better for overall operations when, for example, I veto an idea without having to explain my thought process.

Let’s say, for instance, I’ve done months of research on why a particular system won’t work. If someone comes to me, post-research, and tries to convince me that a system I’ve ruled out needs to be ruled back in, I don’t feel obligated to dig through my files and present my case. (Nor do I need to be an ass about it, I know.) I can say, “I have a real reason for not doing that, but thanks for the input,” and that’s the end of it. Giving lots of people access to lots of information means tons of input. It can be tricky to manage, but it’s worth it.

There are moments I’m put on the transparency spot, not necessarily in a bad way, but when I have to make an instantaneous decision whether or not to answer a question. This happened at the SXSWi core conversation on transparency, when someone in the group asked me what the LPC startup budget was going to be. I gave a dollar figure, not a huge amount for a startup but, based on some audible sucking in of breath I got in response, did come across as an awfully big chunk of change compared to what some other spaces are operating on.

I knew that announcing my budget could be interpreted as me being showy, or somehow different from a lot of the other coworking pioneers. I also knew that I wasn’t offering the number to shock, wow, or intimidate anyone. A question was asked. I gave the answer. Did I plan to announce that number publicly? No. But you either commit to working this way or not.

Which doesn’t mean we can’t have secrets. A Wired article called The See-Through CEO points to Steve Jobs to illustrate this point. Part of the reason the iPhone and other Apple products are so attention-grabbing is because they’re introduced in a Wow moment, after a lot of hush-hush and build-up, like a magician pulling an ostrich out of a coin purse.

Transparency can also be a really easy way for the well-intentioned to stumble. How’s that? Speculation. I could easily sit here and speculate about all the cool things LaunchPad Coworking might do down the road. I could say “We’ll probably be offering organic coffee stirrers that will not in any way adversely affect the mental health of undernourished chickens in third world countries. But if I don’t know that for sure, I’m not going to guess or make promises I can’t later keep. If word gets around about those fancy stirrers and someone comes in expecting them only to find that we don’t have them and have never had them, they’ll have a lousy experience.

So, while on the one hand I probably could be considered by some to be too transparent — offering our architectural plans online for example — in general, I prefer to err on the side of cautious honesty. Just as the sporting goods company Patagonia offers the realistic slogan, “Cause no unnecessary harm,” (as opposed to some hyperbolic, impossible promise to cause no harm at all), I don’t want to say maybe we’ll have this or that. That’s not me being opaque or even secretive. It’s just me wanting to be certain, before I throw the (literal and figurative) door open, that you really will be able to get a clear view.

What are some of the challenges you encounter in doing business transparently?

photo by randomduck