the tree does not have an image of herself in the future and doggedly build that image in a waterfall development process. she does not say, “I will grow X meters tall and have a canopy Y meters wide, a trunk Z meters in diameter, and this particular configuration of branches” and then run off executing that vision with blinders on. no, the tree starts as a seed and grows cellular layer by cellular layer. she bumps against the world around her and responds to what she learns. she will negotiate her canopy footprint with neighboring trees. her roots explore the soil in branching paths, seeking fellow trees, seeking the mycelium that will connect her to her neighbors. one branching path finds nutrient-deficient soil, and she stops growing that root offshoot. one path finds rich, loamy earth, and she invests more resources extending roots though that earth.

branching paths

her roots invite mycelium in to build vital connections with the other trees in the forest. her photosynthesis produces sugar not just for herself, but for trade, even for donation. she exchanges sugars with the mycelium for minerals, water, and even information. she sends nutrients to ailing trees around her, for if they fall, her own security lessens. the mycelium works as a diligent courier, delivering chemical signals across the forest floor in a buzzing network.

redundancy

there is an optimal amount of redundancy for the tree. if she tries to grow alone, with no ties to the trees around her, she faces incredibly harsh risks. she has no fallback if she runs out of nitrogen, or potassium, or water. the soil holding her up may dry up, weakening its grasp. it may be eroded by a a passing river, swelling with run-off from the impervious surfaces of upstream industry, and she may topple over. she is vulnerable if a nearby development blocks the sunlight she was receiving. yet if she tries to build mycelium pathways to five hundred other trees, all that energy going to network-building starves her growth to produce only superficial connections. she must find a balance.

some redundancy means security. if she has connections to several other nearby trees through the underground mycelium network, she is safe. she can receive nutrients to weather storms. her neighbors can send over nitrogen and potassium when she is sick. she does the same for them. the fabric of mycelium reinforces their roots’ grasp on the soil, like a line of allies linking arms.

two lessons:

constantly seek information from your peers and customers and respond to it. a flexible growth plan can navigate obstacles as they come. one framework that practices iterative development with constant learning is “design thinking” or “human-centered design”. you may have heard of “jobs-to-be-done” framework, “agile” product development, or i-corps’ “customer discovery”. these methodologies all teach similar mindsets. the point is iterating toward success in small, low-cost steps with built-in feedback loops. avoid putting blinders on and trying to build the whole thing before you share it with anybody.

build up some redundancy in your network, but not too much. building strong relationships with a focused set of peers and customers creates a network of resource exchange. some people call this mutual aid. if you seek too many connections, the relationships will be shallow, and offer only superficial value to both sides. para-social connections in the digital age, like influencers or thought leaders we follow and absorb content from, can take up way too much of our time and energy. genuine connections have resource exchange. this exchange does not have to be transactional. the forest continues providing resources to sick trees — even to cut-down stumps! — and the entire network is more resilient as a result.

Vance MacEwen, MA, MBA is the co-founder CEO of Greatest Possible Good. he mentors, coaches, and teaches business and design skills to social entrepreneurs. get in contact with vance@greatestpossiblegood.com.