Last month, I walked into the patio of a St. Louis bar with a German data scientist. As anyone would hope to do on a date with a near stranger, I immediately blurted out, "Pee-wee!!!"
In front of me was an oversized painting, which the bar had recently installed in honor of Paul Reubens' memory.
Looking at the awkwardly suited-up figure and then back to me (holding my heart, on the verge of tears), he asked the highly important German question:
"Who is... Pee... Wee...?"
In that moment, I realized how difficult it was to explain the brilliance of Paul Reubens in the context of 2023. Nothing I was sharing seemed to justify my highly emotional response.
But later something interesting happened... We switched tables and joined a larger group. As we settled in around the bar, I mentioned to the bartender that I loved the new Pee-wee piece. "Oh, Pee-wee!" she shouted, as she grabbed her heart. "We love him here! The owner just put that up." And then others jumped in, as well:
"I love him, too!"
"We miss him so much!"
"I still watch his show with my son!"
My data science companion looked perplexed as the sample size instantaneously grew.
As odd as Pee-wee must seem to an outsider looking in, Pee-wee's Playhouse helped shape the identity of many of us who grew up in the U.S. in the 1980s. Just by seeing his portrait or hearing his name, we remember who we are and from where we came. We feel safe and included. We experience nostalgia.
As both an artist and business leader, I'm absolutely fascinated by nostalgia.
As a term, "nostalgia" dates back to the 1600s. It was coined by Swiss physician Johannes Hofer to describe a disorder related to nostos (homecoming) and algos (pain). Of course, in modern times, we've shifted away from pathologizing nostalgia. Rather, through research we've found that there are generally net benefits associated with experiencing it... benefits that include feeling cared for and optimistic about what's to come.
In an era of mass hardships and burnout, this concept is worth our attention, don't you think?
So, how does nostalgia fit in within the workplace?
Well, imagine for a moment that you experience a merger or acquisition. (For some of you, this requires no effort.) Perhaps, you shift under different leadership. Maybe your company changes its name. Even the logo you'd proudly been donning on t-shirts and baseball caps suddenly lives in the "archive" folder.
My hunch (based on plenty of firsthand experience with organizational change) is you may start pining for the "good old days." After all, your own identity was likely shaped by your organization's. You're reaching for continuity.
Nostalgia is very real, my friends.
So, given that we often tend to look back with fondness- and given that there are typically net benefits associated with experiencing nostalgia- how the heck does someone steer a team through radical organizational change?
In 2018, Harvard Business Review published the fascinating piece, "Research: To Get People to Embrace Change, Emphasize What Will Stay the Same." In it, the authors describe their research examining communication during times of transition. The authors state:
"As predicted, results showed that leadership was more effective in building support for change the more that leaders also communicated a vision of continuity, because a vision of continuity instilled a sense of continuity of organizational identity in employees. These effects were larger when employees experienced more uncertainty at work (as measured by employee self-ratings)." (Venus, Stam, Knippenberg)
So, even in the case of the consolidation of companies, ask yourself: what is going to stay the same? Which core values, for example, are going to be upheld? Will you maintain the sense of innovation/creativity/inclusion/etc. that brought your employees to your organization in the first place?
Respect the role that nostalgia plays in our understanding of our own identities. Find your organizational anchor in continuity.
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