On death and decomposition 💀

In New England, most of the leaves have fallen. Our jack-o'-lanterns are loving life, but those grins will soon start rotting into pouts. 

I’ve been thinking about the Berkana Two Loop Model ever since I was introduced to this framework in Liz Neeley’s wonderful newsletter, Meeting the Moment, where she’s been covering the attacks on science and higher education.

This model is a framework for encouraging systems change through strategic emergence. Stewards of a system try to keep that system healthy for as long as possible. Eventually, though, the system enters a state of decline, at which point it becomes necessary to transition into a new system.

There is no logical, stepwise framework for making this leap from the old to the new. Being caught in the middle can feel messy and painful, but it’s also a place of great creativity and opportunity. 

Just as we do with the dying, hospicing a declining system can help make its ending less painful. Careful hospicing minimizes damage and helps to ensure that knowledge and resources can recirculate into the new system. Helping people adopt new narratives that allow them to let go of the past is an important part of hospicing.

Next comes decomposition. As Neeley puts it, “The model makes explicit the “composting”  work that is necessary to identify what is valuable, honor those parts of the past, and repurpose them to nurture the emerging system.”

With tending, a new system will emerge from the rubble. 

Once our pumpkins start to rot, I will toss them into the woods, where they will decompose and their nutrients will recirculate in the environment. One year I even found a new pumpkin that had sprouted from a wayward seed. 

Imagine if that year I had refused to face reality and instead hoarded the old pumpkin in the freezer. There would have been no recirculation, no new life; just a creepy girl talking to her pumpkin like Norman Bates. 

Systems wax and wane all the time: gardens, social networks, even industries. Sometimes this happens quickly; other shifts take multiple lifetimes. No system can continue to operate in the same way indefinitely. In this moment, which feels painfully transitionary, we have the power to decide what to bring with us into the future.

How to apply it

The options here for communicators are plentiful. For example, in helping to amplify the innovators of the new system, and in creating or strengthening information flows to facilitate communication among innovators and the public. 

I find this model particularly useful for visualizing how an individual’s work connects to the larger picture. Endings can be painful. Abstraction, metaphor, and portable thinking can help in confronting reality, forging new narratives, and helping people see themselves as part of something bigger. 

What I’ve been up to

Last night, I had the privilege of watching three of my coaching clients take the stage at TEDxNewEngland: Kaleda Denton showed us the magic of modeling human decisions, Jenn Hu used LLMs to highlight the incredible economy of the human brain, and Tracy K. Smith showed us a different way to engage with language and each other.

This was my second year serving as a writing coach for this event. Once again, I was enchanted to see the talks come to life. It’s a privilege to be present while people are fully embodying their life’s work.

I’ll be attending ScienceWriters2025 in Chicago Nov. 7–9. If you’ll be there too, I’d love to see you!

P.S. If you’re seeking a spooky movie to watch tonight, I have two incredibly stylish contenders: 1961’s The Innocents, a haunted house movie cowritten by Truman Capote, and Near Dark, a (very) gory vampire Western directed by Kathryn Bigelow that stars Bill Paxton. Happy Halloween! 🎃