Most people know the old expression “cry wolf,” which comes from Aesop’s fable, “The Shepherd Boy and the Wolf,” written below:
A shepherd boy who tended his flock not far from a village, often relieved boredom by crying, “Wolf! Wolf!” so that he might laugh at the villagers who came to his assistance. The trick succeeded several times, but then one day the boy had need to cry “Wolf! Wolf!” in earnest; but the villagers, supposing him to be up to his tricks again, paid no attention to him, and the wolf carried off one of the sheep.
Let’s take a look at a diagram of the actions that take place in this story, and see what we can learn from it. The diagram below is a first pass. When the shepherd boy’s amusement level is low, he cries “Wolf!” even though there is no wolf (the “O” on the arrow means that the two things move in opposite directions – i.e., the lower his amusement level, the more likely he is to cry “Wolf!”), and the villagers come running, raising his amusement level.
However, that’s only part of the story. As shown below, over time the villagers grow to distrust the boy’s cries for help, and the level of their response drops off – eventually to zero.
As the level of response diminishes, naturally, so does the safety of the flock, until it is no longer safe – and the wolf is able to carry off a sheep without interference from the villagers.
As simple as the diagram is, it’s helpful because, having drawn it, we can focus on what’s behind the story instead of the story itself. For example, if we focus our attention on the link between “job amusement level” and “false alarms,” we realize that it’s an accurate description of the dynamic of the fable, but it doesn’t describe an inevitability; it only describes a specific shepherd’s specific reaction to boredom. Realizing that, we know it would be wrong to assume that we could apply the diagram universally; but we can still use it to figure out how to intervene and improve this particular situation.
So, let’s brainstorm just a few ways to break that link from cause to effect. We could try to find ways of making the shepherd’s job more interesting, so he wouldn’t be tempted to raise false alarms. We could replace the shepherd with someone whose temperament is better suited to the job. We could incent the shepherd to change his behavior. We could (nowadays) install some sort of electronic surveillance throughout the grazing area to monitor for the presence of wolves, relieving the shepherd of that responsibility.
Some of these solutions might be better than others, and there might be better ones not on our list. Some solutions will result in surprising consequences, but careful consideration of the diagram can help. For example, suppose we install our high-tech surveillance system. The link is broken, but the variable we’ve named “job amusement level” is still there, and the shepherd boy is still bored. It’s only a matter of time before he finds some other source of amusement – and who knows what that will be?
We also might look at other components of the loop and brainstorm a different set of solutions. Is there a way to eliminate a response by the villagers to false alarms? What if the villagers didn’t need to respond to alarms… even real ones? Could the village afford to send an armed guard with the shepherd boy? Would the villagers consider arming and training the shepherd boy himself to defend the flock, or would they worry that it might be unwise to hand a weapon to someone who has proven himself to have a low tolerance for boredom and a tendency to act out?
Making a thoughtful attempt (this wasn’t the first draft) to draw this simple diagram frees us from having to hold the entire problem in our minds and allows us to look at it in different ways. This kind of diagram will pop up again in future columns, where we might take on some more challenging and complex situations. In the meantime, just keep it in mind; you might discover a use for it even if you don’t have a flock of sheep that you need to protect from wolves.
