Learning from Alternate History: Asking ‘What If?’ Before ‘What Now?’

Dice and choices
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Even though I am a full-time ombuds, I still teach one seminar a semester. I’d like to share a few thoughts about how my current course subject, alternate history, might apply to interpersonal communication and conflict resolution.

Alternate history is a genre of fiction that simply asks, “What if?” What if Antony won the battle of Actium? What if Zheng He’s naval expeditions had continued. What if Stanislav Petrov had been a little more trusting of the new Soviet nuclear launch detection system on the night of September 26, 1983?

A good alternate history has details of what might have gone differently, but it also says something about how we view our own timeline, the world that we ourselves live in. Most importantly, though, it empowers the author to ask “what if?” Those two words might be the best springboard for any exploration of the unknown.

To write a clever alternate history, two things are essential: a deep knowledge of history as it actually unfolded and an active imagination capable of following the initial change (or point of divergence) through a series of unexpected from our viewpoint, but logical in retrospect, changes. When it all goes well, we get a fully formed world where history has taken a different direction than ours but still feels believable.

What does fiction have to do with how we approach conflict or make decisions about our lives? Well, narrative therapy is a thing, so the idea of thinking about our own lives in terms of stories that we tell others and ourselves isn’t so novel. Stories help us understand the world, both globally and individually. The ability to tell stories—and imagine stories that haven’t happened yet—might be one of the most thoroughly human characteristics. Changing those stories can open up new insights and help free us from self-defeating thoughts.

Alternate history, as a genre focusing on “what if,” makes crystal clear the power of fiction to conjure up new possibilities. Reading alternate histories and understanding the work that goes into assembling them might help train us in the power of asking “what if,” then building a logical, satisfactory answer.

Since I’ve been reading more than my share of alternate history stories lately, I’ll demonstrate what using alternate history techniques in interpersonal conflict resolution might look like for you.

Here is the scenario: Sigma is having trouble communicating with Alpha, his supervisor. Sigma wants to take on a new project, while Alpha wants to wait until her supervisor, Omega, has signed off on the change.

Sigma thinks that if they wait for Omega’s approval, there is a chance that the work won’t be needed at all, and he is eager to get this project done. Alpha has been warned by Omega about “mission creep,” and while she wants to support Sigma, she feels it is important to her and her unit to go through the proper channels for this, though she hasn’t communicated this to Sigma yet (in fairness, he hasn’t asked).

Sigma is wondering what to do. As he sees it, he has five options:

  1. Start working on the project without Alpha’s approval. After all, she is busy and probably won’t notice, and by the time the approval comes through, she will be grateful that he showed initiative and got started.
  2. Send an email to Alpha asking when he can expect to have an answer, stressing the importance of the project to him.
  3. Send an email to Alpha informing her that he is starting work on the project, telling her that he simply has waited long enough.
  4. Wait for Alpha to respond with approval or denial.
  5. Frustrated with the situation, start looking for other opportunities—or quit outright

There may be nuances of options available, but those are the main ones that jump out at Sigma. So he decides to write his own alternate history stories about them. For this first story, he chooses to move ahead without approval. He sees three possible outcomes: the project is denied, in which case he has wasted his time; the project is approved, and he is ahead of the game; or the project is approved, but Alpha finds out he was working on it before he should have been, and he faces discipline. While he can’t handicap with any certainty the relative likelihood of any of these outcomes, he gets the sense that the odds might not be in his favor.

For the second story, he sees two possible outcomes: Alpha follows back up again with Omega, or she doesn’t. While there is a chance that she will be annoyed by the email, they have built a good enough relationship to know that this is unlikely. The third option, he sees, is very unlikely to end well for him—it is direct insubordination. Number four carries with it the risk—small but real—that if he doesn’t say anything, the project might slip off Alpha and Omega’s radar. And as far as five goes, this isn’t worth quitting over, but Sigma’s going to listen if someone makes him a better offer.

So, weighing all the variables and thinking through several alternate timelines for each action, Sigma decides to go with the second option. To give you some closure, I will share that in my narrative, Alpha appreciates the new information, reaches out again to Omega, and gets confirmation that Sigma can start this vague but clearly important to him project.

So you’re telling me you are so wowed by Sigma’s saga that you would like to incorporate alt history into your own decision-making? Here are four principles to remember:

  • It all starts by asking, “what if?” while not being anchored to any particular outcome. In this story, anything is possible, even things that aren’t probable. This is a time to explore
  • Establish a firm point of divergence: What change will you make?
  • Work through several possible logical outcomes of the change. Given how history has spiraled up to this point, what might happen next? The more threads, the better.
  • To be as creatively unanchored as possible, step back from the narrative; think about it in the third, rather than first, person. These are stories that are happening to a character, not you. When you’re done, you may be surprised at the possibilities you imagined.

Imagining our interpersonal conflicts as grist for alternate history scenarios might not be immediately intuitive, but could have some value for those looking to survey their options. Because when we just as “what if?” we take the first step in making a change.

So until next time, expect the unexpected, stay informed, and I’ll stay informal.

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Informed Informality: People, Organizations, Conflict, and Culture

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