Preface
We are standing at the edge of the map—where strategy stops behaving like a spreadsheet and starts behaving like climate. Here, two kinds of intention shape the air we breathe.
1. Given goals: imported, shrink-wrapped, optimised for quarterly optics—targets that ask the organisation to obey, translate, deliver. They tidy the board pack even as they thin our capacity to notice what is mutating beneath our feet.
2. Grown goals: emergent, conversational, continuously negotiated in the messy circuitry of people, algorithms, streets, soils. They surface through loops of sensing → sense-making → capacity-building → deliberation, the way dew condenses on morning grass. These are not post-it notes but living metabolic functions.
From that fork the landscape unrolls fractally—goals nested across scales like a Mandelbrot of purpose: operational heartbeats, action tasks, output artefacts, outcome shifts, impact dents, and the silent meta-goals that keep the whole stack possible tomorrow. Each layer runs on its own tempo; each interface is a membrane of translation. Alignment is not a cascade but a civic practice, earned daily in the feedback loops that allow a pager alert to warn a constitutional value the moment the slope tilts.
So our work becomes topological, not hierarchical. We map basins of attraction, ridge-lines where tiny nudges flip regimes, porous edge-zones where conflicting intents rub and spark. We design elastic membranes, hetero-temporal dashboards, capital slack defended like oxygen. We fund dissent as operating expenditure. We learn to graph goals instead of ranking them, because the graph reveals the dark matter—the hidden plumbing—through which value actually flows.
The wager is simple: preservation without plasticity is brittle; plasticity without preservation is chaos. Resilience lives in the dynamic tension between the two, stewarded by people fluent in multiple temporalities, able to hold paradox long enough for new coherence to emerge.
This will not offer a single north star; we will practise navigating a shifting constellation—so that when the ground moves, the civic fabric of sense-making endures, and the future remains a place we can still choose together.
1. Are goals given or grown?
Start with the split that silently shapes every strategy meeting. Given goals arrive pre-packaged from outside the system—legislation, investor mandates, a leader’s moon-shot slide. The organisation’s role is obedience: break the target into KPIs, crank the handle, report the delta. Clarity up front, agency down stream.
Grown goals flip that plumbing. They germinate inside the weave of the system itself. Actors are not only do-ers; they are sense-ers and sense-makers. Through continuous loops of sensing → sensemaking → capacity-building → deliberation, directionality coalesces the way dew condenses on grass. Goal-finding becomes a living metabolic function, not an aftermarket accessory. Alignment is earned, not decreed; purpose is negotiated, not announced.
These are not cosmetic variants; they imply different ontologies of control and different failure modes. A given-goal system fails when the map is wrong; a grown-goal system fails when conversation dries up. Most organisations oscillate between the poles—borrowing the crispness of external targets when urgency is high, letting emergence re-assert itself when complexity outruns prediction. Leadership is the craft of surfing that oscillation without wiping out.
2. The fractal stack: goals nested across scales
Zoom in on any living system and you don’t discover a single “north-star” lighthouse beaming orders downward. You find a self-similar lattice of purpose that repeats—almost like a Mandelbrot—at every zoom level:
Operational goals – The heartbeat stuff: keep the turbines spinning, packets flowing, storefront open. Measured in seconds or hours and shepherded by dashboards, run-books, pagers.
Action goals – Concrete tasks a human or micro-service can finish: close this ticket, weld that seam, publish the post. Cadence of hours to days; expressed in checklists and task cards.
Output goals – Tangible deliverables: ship working code, file the report, deliver the crate. Days or weeks long; evidenced by release notes, hand-offs, signed receipts.
Outcome goals – The behavioural shift you actually want: cut onboarding friction 40 %, raise soil carbon, triple voter turnout. Weeks to quarters; encoded in OKRs or project charters.
Impact goals – The societal or ecosystem dent: make housing affordable, decarbonise freight, keep a language alive. Years in the making; captured in policy agendas and venture theses.
Meta-goals – Quiet guardians of the whole stack: preserve the system’s ability to pursue any of the above tomorrow. Decades long; embedded in constitutions, capital buffers, cultural norms.
A few principles matter once you see the stack:
Alignment is earned, never automatic. A team can smash its output target while damaging outcomes upstream—the feature-factory paradox.
Cross-layer feedback is the real health metric. When operators can warn that an action goal is undermining an outcome goal—and be taken seriously—resilience rises.
The stack stretches and compresses. In crisis, everything collapses into the operational layer: “Restore service now.” In exploration phases it elongates, giving room for big-picture impact.
Interfaces matter. The people sitting between layers—product owners, community moderators, middle managers—are not bureaucratic fluff; they are the connective tissue translating intent up and down.
Design for fractals, not pyramids. Traditional goal charts pretend to be tidy hierarchies. Reality is messy, recursive and overlapping. Governance and tooling should honour that mess, not sanitise it away.
3.Meta-goals: the autopilot beneath the autopilot
Scratch any purpose map and you will find a quieter layer—goals about having goals. These directives hum like firmware, shaping what the visible objectives can even become. We usually talk about two, yet there is a third we chronically under-consider.
Preservation — keep the game going: Every viable system guards a minimum viable continuity. Corporations chase cashflow long after the flagship product fades; rain-forests maintain a humid canopy that self-stabilises local climate; bodies shunt blood to the core in a blizzard. Preservation is not nostalgia—it is the substrate on which any future choice will be written. When the continuity circuit breaks, the whole goal-stack evaporates.
Plasticity — stay able to change the game: Continuity without adaptability is a slow-motion crash. Democracies bake in dissent and term limits; start-ups keep code modular so they can pivot without rewriting the universe. Plasticity is a standing wager that tomorrow’s curve-ball will outpace today’s aim.
Mortality — know when to end the game: Living systems also carry an apoptotic switch: leaves fall, products sunset, institutions dissolve. Finiteness clears space for the adjacent possible; without it, preservation curdles into stagnation and plasticity gets trapped recycling legacy debt. Designing for death—expiry dates, decommission rituals, regenerative exits—is as vital as designing for survival.
These meta-goals seldom land on KPI dashboards; they hide in architecture:
Capital buffers, reserve ratios, seed banks—slack that buys time.
Constitutional amendments, sunset clauses, forkable licences—legal escape hatches for outdated rules.
Modular codebases, micro-service boundaries, “two-pizza” teams—designs that localise failure and speed substitution.
End-of-life protocols, product composting, mission-complete shutdowns—rituals that reclaim resources and narrative attention for what comes next.
Think of meta-goals as the system’s long memory and its compost heap. They resist the gravity of quarterly reviews because they run on decade-length half-lives—until the mortality switch flips and they willingly dissolve.
Design cues
Audit the hidden firmware. Ask, “What must remain true for us to recognise ourselves in ten years—and what must be allowed to die?”
Protect slack as an asset. Redundancy, cash cushions, fallow land—luxuries until the day they are oxygen.
Institutionalise dissent. Surfacing anomalies early beats heroic salvage later.
Balance preservation, plasticity, and mortality. Too much of any one yields fossilisation, chaos, or endless churn; resilience lives in the dynamic tension between lasting, adapting, and releasing.
Meta-goals rarely shout, yet they decide whether the louder goals ever get to speak—and whether there is room for new voices when the old ones fall quiet.
4. Poly-goal realities: living inside polygonal purpose-space
Complex systems do not queue their intentions in single file; they fire them in parallel chords that reverberate across time-scales, spaces, and relationships. The competence that separates brittle machines from adaptive agents is the capacity to hold these overlapping melodies without flattening them into one anthem.
1. Purpose is polygonal, not linear
A city does more than juggle three headline objectives. While it plates dinner tonight, protects medieval stonework, and prototypes driverless buses, it also buffers stormwater, publishes zoning codes, incubates subcultures, and emits stories that lure the next cohort of dreamers. Every goal throws a shadow into several others, creating interference patterns that cannot be solved—only stewarded.
2. Goals nest fractally across abstraction layers
Zoom in and each objective splinters into its own stack: operational, action, output, outcome, impact, meta. Zoom out and those “local” goals become the operational substrate for a continental trade bloc or a planetary climate regime. Fractals all the way, with no privileged zoom level.
3. Goals live inside relationships, not spreadsheets
Whether two intentions clash or harmonise depends on who is holding them and how they are linked. The same hospital can be a nurturing haven for patients, a training ground for surgeons, a profit centre for investors, and a noise nuisance to neighbours. Relational intelligence—the ability to see the goal through each connection—decides whether we negotiate trade-offs or trigger zero-sum wars.
4. Each goal occupies its own tempo-spatial lane
Feeding residents runs on a 24-hour clock and a ten-kilometre supply radius; preserving cathedrals stretches over centuries and tourist fly-zones; inventing autonomous transit plays on venture-capital half-lives and global standards bodies. When we force every goal onto a quarterly calendar or a single GIS layer, we amputate the rhythms that make the whole dance possible.
5. Multi-goal fluency is the hallmark of complex agency
Agent-based simulations show that systems whose agents can juggle several, partially conflicting heuristics outperform mono-goal agents in volatile environments. In human organisations the analogue is polychromatic leadership: people who can sit with mutually irreducible aims long enough for a creative recombination to surface.
Design cues for the polygonal age
Surface the goal-graph. Map how objectives inter-reference rather than ranking them in a list. Graphs reveal cycles, bottlenecks, and unexpected enablers.
Cultivate role-shifting rituals. Rotating team members through different stakeholder hats trains the muscle of relational perspective-taking.
Use hetero-temporal dashboards. Pair real-time metrics with century-scale indicators (e.g., biodiversity indices) so no layer hijacks attention forever.
Prototype with conflicting KPIs on purpose. Small-scale experiments that pursue tensioned goals (speed andsafety, growth and degrowth) teach the organisation to metabolise paradox instead of avoiding it.
The future belongs to systems—and people—that can inhabit this multi-goal, multi-scale, multi-temporal polyhedronwithout demanding that one face flatten the rest. The art is not deciding which purpose wins, but composing a living chord in which each purpose finds its resonance, however briefly, before the melody modulates again.
5. Topology > Hierarchy
A tidy org-chart or OKR cascade tempts us to picture purpose as a tree of inheritance: one root goal, many obedient branches. But in living systems the geometry is messier—and more interesting. Goals move through topological terrain, not linear pipelines. Picture a landscape of basins, ridges, and fault-lines where intention flows, pools, or jumps according to the shape of the ground.
Key landforms in the goal-scape
Attractors – stable basins the system falls back into: Profit-seeking for firms, nutrient cycling for forests, status games for primates. The deeper the basin, the more energy it takes to climb out.
Phase thresholds – ridges where a nudge flips the regime: A 0.25 % rate hike, a viral hashtag, a sudden drop in pollinators. Cross the crest and yesterday’s dominant goal-set loses gravity.
Edge-zones – porous membranes where conflicting aims rub: Open-source meets proprietary code; public-private partnerships negotiate risk; urban greenbelts buffer housing demand against ecological limits. Friction here is not a bug—it is the grit that lets novelty crystallise.
Design moves for landscape thinking
Map the basins before you set the targets. If cash-flow has a deeper attractor than innovation, any “disruptive” KPI will drain downhill the moment pressure rises.
Install early-warning ridge sensors. Tiny parameter shifts often precede regime flips. Track weak signals (credit default spreads, teenage slang, insect counts) that betray the slope beneath your feet.
Build elastic interfaces, not concrete walls. Interfaces that are too rigid shatter under stress; those with controlled permeability absorb shock and let new coherence emerge.
Treat conflict as constructive interference. When opposing goals collide at the edge, ask what hybrid form could satisfy both basins enough to stabilise—e.g., dual licensing, green bonds, citizen assemblies.
The aim is not to abolish goal-conflict; it is to sculpt the terrain so conflicting intentions can grind, spark, and occasionally fuse without ripping the system apart. Hierarchies give you clarity on paper, but topology tells you where the energy will actually flow.
Design implications: how to build in a poly-goal, fractal, topological world
Operating inside “polygonal purpose-space” is less about crafting perfect strategies and more about curating the conditions under which many, partly-incompatible strategies can learn, collide, mutate and, when the context shifts, re-align. Below are eight design moves—architectural, cultural, procedural—that follow from the goal landscape we have just drawn.
1. Build interfaces, not moats
Why: Goals will conflict; that friction is creative energy.
How: Focus not on hard departmental borders but on interface protocols—shared APIs, joint OKRs, community charters—that allow value to cross while containing damage. Think Kubernetes namespaces, public-private sandbox zones, data-trust licences.
2. Instrument the landscape at multiple tempos
Why: Each goal layer runs on its own clock. Quarterly profit and 50-year biodiversity can’t share a single dashboard.
How: Pair fast telemetry (latency, revenue per hour) with slow indicators (soil organic matter, employee learning cohort). Visualise them side-by-side so no timeframe monopolises attention.
3. Budget for slack—then defend it like oxygen
Why: Preservation meta-goals need reserves; plasticity meta-goals need option space. Both look “wasteful” until the regime flips.
How: Keep 10–15 % unallocated capacity in sprint cycles; run a rainy-day fund outside the annual target process; allow server headroom above average load. Treat slack as anti-fragility insurance, not fat to be trimmed.
4. Rotate roles to cultivate relational intelligence
Why: Conflict is easier to steward when actors have worn each other’s lenses.
How: Engineer short secondments across stakeholder boundaries: product ↔ policy, ecology ↔ finance, city hall ↔ neighbourhood coop. The goal is cognitive bilingualism, not empire building.
5. Prototype on the ridges
Why: Phase thresholds are the cheapest leverage points. Small experiments there can open new attractors without expensive re-platforming.
How: Run “dual-KPI” pilots that pursuit tension pairs (profit and decarbonisation; speed and safety). Measure whether they stabilise as a new basin or snap back to the old.
6. Encode dissent as an operating expense
Why: Plasticity meta-goal demands rewritable firmware.
How: Fund internal “red teams,” citizens’ panels, or open-source forks that are paid to criticise. Tie an explicit percentage of budget to horizon-three exploration, with the mandate to surface inconvenient data early.
7. Graph goals instead of listing them
Why: A graph exposes cycles, bottlenecks, brokerage nodes—insights a bullet list hides.
How: Use goal-dependency mapping tools (Wardley-esque value chains, causal-loop diagrams) in quarterly planning. Review where feedback arrows accumulate or dead-end; that is where you harden or redesign the membrane.
8. Let governance travel with the work
Why: In a fractal stack, control cannot live only at the centre.
How: Push decision rights to the smallest context that feels the pressure first—dev teams own rollbacks, neighbourhood councils own street experiments. Anchor with “constitutional” meta-rules (e.g., data privacy, ecological ceilings) that cannot be locally overridden without a super-majority.
What this buys you
Resilience – When one basin dries, the system can slip into a neighbouring basin instead of cracking.
Discovery velocity – Multiple goal-trajectories run in parallel, sampling more of the possibility space.
Meaningful engagement – Actors see their time-scale, their relationship, their layer represented in governance, so commitment deepens.
Ethical coherence – Slow-burn values (justice, planetary boundaries) are kept in the frame even when fast money screams.
In short, designing for poly-goal reality does not simplify your strategy sheets; it complexifies your design language—membranes, graphs, ridge probes, hetero-temporal metrics. The payoff is an organisation, a city, a platform that stays alive enough to change and stable enough to matter when the landscape inevitably shifts again.
6. Conversation as Operating System
A forward-facing hypothesis
Goals are not the property of agents, but of the conversations between them.
When the conversation widens, goals stretch; when it narrows, they ossify.
In ever-thickening complexity, strategic advantage no longer comes from drafting the perfect objective list. It comes from shaping the architecture of ongoing talk that keeps objectives in motion—able to bend, split, or dissolve as reality moves. Governance is shifting from goal-setting to goal-generation: from issuing co-ordinates once, to cultivating the medium in which fresh co-ordinates can surface continuously.
6.1 Why conversational design eclipses static planning
Static lists work on a linear cycle—forecast, set target, execute, report—and assume the world will stay stable long enough for a plan to land. They concentrate authority in the person who names the target and collapse when signals change faster than the review cadence.
Conversational fabrics work on a looping sequence—sense, narrate, co-define, act, iterate. They tolerate partial and contested information, distribute authority across those who detect change, and refresh objectives at the pace of the environment. When volatility is high, the latency between new signal and goal refresh matters more than technical brilliance.
6.2 The four-layer conversational stack
Signal layer – “What’s happening?”: Crowd-source weak signals through sensors, ethnography, open telemetry, citizen science. Diversity and speed of input are the safeguards against blindsiding.
Sense-making layer – “What might it mean?”: Bring those raw signals into interpretive forums—data storytelling sessions, deliberative assemblies, speculative scenario rooms. The aim is shared narrative, not premature consensus.
Portfolio layer – “What shall we try next?”: Crystallise provisional commitments—sprint goals, hypothesis-based OKRs, option portfolios. Explicit yet easily revocable, these frames give action a focal point without trapping it.
Learning layer – “What did reality teach us?”: Feed experience back via after-action reviews, living dashboards, and public retrospectives. The loop closes only when new insight re-seeds the Signal and Sense-making layers.
If any layer stalls, the whole metabolism falters—either paralysed in analysis or lunging into action without shared sense.
6.3 Design moves that keep the fabric alive
Create shared ground. Use open data lakes, polyglot APIs and visual canvases so people literally look at the same picture; conversation fragments without a common substrate.
Respect tempo plurality. Pair daily stand-ups with monthly civic forums and annual constitutional reviews. Fast signals must flow upward while slow values anchor the swirl.
Write revocable goals. Attach an expiry date or trigger condition to every commitment. When reality shifts, the goal self-summons its own review, sparing teams the ego-cost of reversal.
Fund dissent as routine overhead. Red-teams, outsider residencies, public challenges—budgeted like R & D, not crisis response—inject the friction that keeps sense-making honest.
Rotate perspectives. Engineer regular swaps—operator to regulator, citizen to investor—so empathy and conflict surface early, before they fossilise.
Make the loop visible. Publish a live heat-map of what is being discussed, at which layer, and by whom. Transparency itself becomes a steering mechanism.
6.4 Typical failure modes and counter-moves
Conversation sprawl—talk drowns action. Counter with strict time-boxing and a “build-measure-learn” heartbeat for each experiment.
Echo chambers—agreement crushes novelty. Counter by curating cognitive and demographic diversity into every sense-making forum.
Decision fatigue—permanent revisiting of old questions. Counter by locking each goal for a minimum window before the next review cycle.
Invisible drift—quiet silencing of out-groups. Counter with independent audits of who speaks and who is heard inside the conversational graph.
6.5 The wager
Yesterday’s edge was scale, today’s is speed; tomorrow’s will be conversational plasticity—the capacity to keep re-describing the world in time to matter. Organisations that master it will resemble civic operating systems: dense networks of talk and reversible commitments that refresh purpose as fluidly as the contexts they serve.
Hypothesis
The long-term fitness of any complex system is proportional to the bandwidth, diversity, and revocability of the conversations it can host about its goals. Strategy, therefore, is the craft of engineering those conversations—not merely the artefacts they once produced.
This piece is a powerful reminder that in complex, multi-agent systems, rigid goal-setting can be counterproductive. Instead, fostering environments where agents can adapt, learn, and co-evolve may lead to more resilient and regenerative outcomes. Your emphasis on relational dynamics and adaptability aligns with the principles of heliogenesis, where systems are designed to be self-renewing and responsive to their environments. It's a compelling call to rethink how we approach systemic change.
PS: Your piece was way clearer and easier to follow than Daniels “Development in Progress” from the Consilience Project. Your straightforward split between "given" and "grown" goals makes so much more sense than Schmachtenberger’s heavy, complex dive. Both tie into multi-agent systems (MAS), where goals are either set by programming or come from agents working together, focusing on flexibility through communication. Your conversational vibe feels more natural and relatable, but articles point to decentralized, adaptive systems, even if there’s still debate about balancing strict versus fluid goals.