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Articles

Body, mind, and soul principles for designing management education: an ethnography from the future

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Pages 313-329 | Received 01 Jan 2021, Accepted 05 Jan 2022, Published online: 18 Jan 2022

ABSTRACT

In this paper, we advance the conversation about management education by outlining a future scenario of management teaching in which art is employed as a method, learning goal, and methodology. The scenario is informed by our personal experiences of teaching management and art expressed in terms of three design principles for management education: the principles of body, mind, and soul; and it is presented as an ethnography from the future. This future is envisioned to be characterized by four assumptions: that students are co-creators of knowledge; that the role of teachers is to facilitate the students’ learning processes; that Artificial Intelligence is an integral part of learning processes; and that the primary learning objective for the students is to develop their relations to the world and contribute with feasible future solutions to wicked problems and global challenges.

Introduction

In light of the many critical voices that have been raised on the shortcomings of how management is represented and taught in business schools (cf. Grey Citation2004; O’Doherty and Jones Citation2005; Parker Citation2018), it is important to nuance the criticism and acknowledge that management education is a complex assemblage of assumptions, methods, theories, and didactics taken from many different disciplines and traditions. Management education is indeed most often permeated by a scientific rationale and designed to meet learning objectives that favor instrumental competencies and skills valued within the confines of capitalism, but it also encompasses great influences from other knowledge domains and walks of life, such as the humanities (cf. Gagliardi and Czarniawska Citation2006), the social sciences (cf. Engwall and Zamagni Citation1998), and not least, the arts (Gallos Citation2020).

In relation to the arts, management education is greatly indebted. Gallos (Citation2009) has, for instance, shown how management education as a field of practice over a long period of time has been developed by employing art products as well as art practices, and how the arts has been an ‘essential partner for management pedagogy throughout its history’ (Gallos Citation2009, 190). This has been demonstrated by the introduction of cases at Harvard Business School in the 1920s; by the symbolic perspective of the 1980s and onwards, with its many metaphors borrowed from artistic practices to enhance the understanding of management; and by art-based interventions, especially within the Organizational Development movement.

Currently, however, a shift is taking place in the relationship between art and management in educational settings. Instead of approaching art as a metaphorical vehicle for conveying management theories, art is beginning to be considered as contributing with highly relevant managerial competencies and skills. Or put slightly different: ‘Art as a teaching method’ is increasingly being replaced by ‘artistry as learning outcome’ (Gallos Citation2009, 194).

For management educators, this shift has far-reaching consequences in terms of pedagogy, as it prompts educators to enable students to

(1) engage in art making and deep art experiences to learn the creative thinking, aesthetic sensibilities, and mindset of an artist; (2) partner on projects with artists who can challenge the assumptions and problem-solving approaches implicit in traditional management theory and practice. (Gallos Citation2009, 195)

The argument for this shift of educational approach and practice is that it is believed to mirror profound societal, demographic, and technological changes. Phenomena such as the rise of the creative class (Florida Citation2002), the genesis of Generation Y (cf. Eisner Citation2005) and Z (cf. Seemiller and Grace Citation2016), and an overall aestheticization of work, products, and services – are all said to point in the very same direction, i.e. towards the demand of skills that predominantly are to be found within the arts such as design thinking, storytelling, empathy, and meaning-making (cf. Pink Citation2006).

In this paper, we would like to advance this conversation about management education by outlining a future scenario of management teaching in which art is employed as both method, learning goal, and methodology. Our work is informed by an impressionist collage made up of our personal and embodied experiences of teaching management and art in different business schools, and it is presented in terms of an ethnography from the future, a thick description (cf. Geertz, [Citation1973] Citation1993) of a foreseeable educational situation in an institutionalized educational context, a knowledge creation per se. This ethnography is based on four assumptions that we, based on our experiences, believe will characterize the future: that students are co-creators of knowledge, that the role of teachers is to facilitate the students’ and their own learning processes; that Artificial Intelligence (AI) is an integral part of the learning processes; and that the primary learning objective for the students is to develop their relationship to the world and contribute with feasible future solutions to wicked problems (cf. Rittel and Webber Citation1973) and global challenges.

In the next section, we account for our methodological considerations. Departing from a constructionist understanding of reality, we briefly describe our subjective experiences of teaching management and art, our reasons for writing an ethnography from the future, and how we came to reach intersubjectivity on a set of principles that we deem to be crucial to designing management education. The explication of our design principles ensues, followed by the presentation of our ethnographical projection into the future. In the concluding section, we elaborate upon the lessons learned from our endeavor.

Methodological considerations

Our study is inspired by the work of Richard Normann, who, in his book Reframing Business – When the Map Changes the Landscape (Citation2001) discusses the possibilities of reframing current situations – here and now – to project oneself into an enacted future. Metaphorically speaking, Normann introduces the idea of the crane, a construction device that allows us to ‘take stock of what we have, yet distance ourselves from it and explore new territory’ (Normann Citation2001, 201). He continues:

It [i.e. the crane] must be able to bend minds. It must open up a conceptual space beyond what is known and what can be imagined today, and it must then allow us to fill that conceptual space with a new design. It must start from where we are – here-and-now, take us into unchartered territory, yet allow us to come back with new insights and start concrete construction work. (Normann Citation2001, 201)

According to Normann, the crane must be built by existing knowledge in an abductive manner bridging our personal experiences with insight from theory of science, previously constructed theories, and ‘the non-conscious domain of the past’ (Normann Citation2001, 207). To project oneself into the future, one must unveil the taken-for-granted, as well as the hidden, aspects of life that control our thinking and our actions, and block us from perceiving alternative actions and futures.

Normann’s work has inspired us to query our own experiences of teaching management and art. The result is a set of design principles that we believe could be used to build a Normannesque crane and a projection into the future in the form of an ethnography. In the following, we briefly describe our subjective experiences, the ‘method’ we used when we built ‘the crane’, followed by why and how we went about writing a thick description of a future to come.

Subjective experiences

Daniel Ericsson has for more than 25 years been a student of creativity and creative organizing processes within the cultural sector. His empirical interest has mainly been directed towards the field of music and the consequences of digitalization (cf. Ericsson Citation2010; Citation2019), whereas his theoretical and methodological inspirations, more often than not have stemmed from the field of literature. In his writings, organization theory is, for instance, fused with Umberto Eco’s semiotics (Ericsson Citation2001), Erich Auerbach’s ideas on narrative styles (Ericsson Citation2016), and Raymond Queneau’s playful poetry (Ericsson Citation2020). Put in perspective, Ericsson’s research experiences on creativity largely revolve around sensemaking processes (Weick Citation1995) – and so do his teaching experiences. His approach to teaching in courses such as ‘Creativity Management’ and ‘Design Management’ at Linnaeus University has been to construct occasions for sensemaking for the students based on the premises that sensemaking processes are abductive, embedded in grand narratives, and a matter of ongoing identity constructions. Key to his teaching has therefore been to break the students taken-for-granted notions of the subject at hand, closely paying attention to the students’ pre-understandings as well as their evolving understandings, and at the same time provide the students with material that enables them to rewrite the narrative of management and inscribe themselves into the plot.

Robert Stasinski has focused on a combination of curatorial, educational, and artistic practices, wherein art, among many things, facilitates a spark plug for discussions of wider social issues. The author’s work at the Art Initiative at Stockholm School of Economics 2016–2020 as well as the collaborative project Being Unthinkable (2007-2021), together with IBM and The Royal Institute of Technology, are two experiences that connect art with creative management strategies and new ways of working with art in order to discuss and promote wider issues such as art and artificial intelligence, robotics, psychological fluidity, perspective-shifting, artificial curiosity (cf. Johnson, Shu, and Dellaert Citation2012), augmented intelligence (cf. Engelbart Citation1962), and boundary objects (Star and Griesemer Citation1989).

Emma Stenström has taught both management and art students for many years. More specifically, she has taught management to art students, taught art to management students, and brought them together on common courses. Stenström’s passion lies in combining different forms of knowledge and experiences, and she believes it is particularly important to solve some of the challenges we are facing today. In research, she has worked with exploring management and organization principles based on artistic practices, in particular within contemporary dance and circus. For example, how can circus disciplines be translated into management, when it comes to managing risks and creating trust? And what can managers, and management students, learn from the embodied practice of circus (Stenström Citation2016)?

Taken together, we have about 70 years of experience of teaching and conducting research within arts, creativity, and management, albeit each with different empirical focus: music, visual arts, and embodied art forms such as dance and contemporary circus; and we have all three focused on art and digitalization in some form. One of us has looked at the consequences of digitalization for creativity; another on alternative forms for organizing and financing arts through crypto-economics; a third has worked with art, artificial intelligence, and robotics. It is these diverse, yet at the same time similar subjective experiences that have formed the assumptions that guide each one of us in thinking about the future, and that in turn forms the basis for this text: that students are co-creators of knowledge, that the role of teachers is to facilitate the students’ and their own learning processes; that Artificial Intelligence is an integral part of the learning processes; and that the primary learning objective for the students is to develop their relations to the world and contribute with feasible future solutions to wicked problems and global challenges.

From subjective experiences to design principles

Based on our different subjective experiences of teaching and researching management and art, we set out to co-create our ‘crane’, by defining elements that we respectively have found to be crucial when designing meaningful learning situations and processes. The initial intent was that we would brainstorm in order to choose three design principles each, giving them equal weight, and consequently work with a set of nine different principles to project ourselves into the future, as suggested by Normann (Citation2001). However, as we started to discuss the rather long list of principles that was generated by our brainstorming exercise, we realized that many of the principles were more or less overlapping – even though we have been working within different traditions, and from different theoretical, philosophical, and pedagogical standpoints. Intuitively we, therefore, took a grounded theory approach to our list of principles (cf. Glaser and Strauss Citation1967), trying to group the principles into meaningful categories and weigh them against one other in terms of significance.

Eventually, we ‘discovered’ that the list of principles could be segmented into three different categories: body, mind, and soul. However, this discovery did not occur out of the blue. One could instead say that it was an informed discovery since these three categories came up as design principles in their own rights, but also are addressed by others, such as the President of the Stockholm School of Economics, where all three authors have been affiliated at some point, as ‘elements’ of high-quality education that involves a ‘fuller transformation of an individual’ (Strannegård Citation2021). The categorization made sense to us and provided us with a structure for our thinking about teaching what is not there.

From design principles to an impressionist tale

The very purpose of Normann’s (Citation2001) crane is to transcend the current situation by oscillating between the past and the future. By going back and forth between our historical experiences and our visions and imaginations of the future, it is argued that we will enrich our understanding of the present – which in turn will increase our action repertoire. In Normann’s (Citation2001, 197) terms, we should therefore try to act as both ‘exiles from the past’ and ‘visitors from the future’. Acting as a visitor from the future, however, poses a delicate epistemological problem: how can we know of something that does not yet exist? Normann’s (Citation2001, 196) answer to this quandary is that one should ask oneself ‘What if?’, and treat the answer to this question as real.

Following Normann’s suggestion, we have thus asked ourselves: what if we as researchers from the future were to pay a visit to the present-day readers of Culture and Organization, what would we bring with us? What would be both an interesting and meaningful read? Moreover, what would comply with our subjective experiences and principles of teaching management and art? It was not long before we agreed that some sort of ethnography would be appropriate and that our thick description of the future would be based on two central ideas.

Firstly, despite our intention to treat our projection into the future as real, we did not succumb to the realist fantasy of ‘telling as it is’ in an objective manner (cf. Van Maanen Citation2011). Instead, we wanted to highlight the subjective and confessional character of teaching and learning, yet at the same time make space for a fragmented reality consisting of many voices and different experiences. Based on this idea, we agreed to strive to tell an impressionist tale (Van Maanen Citation2011), accounting for ‘a day in the life’ in a polyvocal and fluid manner. While we do not have literary ambitions, we were inspired by ‘hard science fiction’, such as Kim Stanley Robinson’s The Ministry for the Future (Citation2020), which addresses the climate crisis, in an imaginative, polyvocal, and still research-based manner.

Secondly, loosely inspired by the ANT movement (cf. Law Citation2009), Hartmut Rosa’s ‘resonance’ (Citation2019), and the alternative ethnographic tradition, especially the practices of reading and writing otherness (cf. Ericsson and Kostera Citation2020), we wanted to embrace not only ‘the usual suspects’ in educational settings, i.e. students and teachers, but also that which we imagine will be a crucial part of future learning environments, yet most often is omitted or neglected in conversations on management education: Artificial Intelligence. As the so far silenced Other of the future, we, therefore, decided to anthropomorphize this ‘thing’, and give it a body, a mind, and a soul – and most importantly, a voice. This might be a prerequisite for relating to the world in a different way. The concept of resonance demands an idea of responsive material but might also include resistance (Rosa Citation2019).

The inclusion of an Artificial Intelligence ‘actor’ elicits a number of ethical issues, currently discussed in many fields of AI integration. One of many current ethical tools and design processes in the research literature is ‘value sensitive design research’ (Umbrello and van de Poel Citation2021) which has been experimentally studied in many contexts such as in energy systems, mobile phone usage, architecture projects and augmented reality systems – but never in the context of educational technology. Part of the development of our ethnography is, therefore, to instill technological principles for transparency such as ‘receiver-contextualised intervention’, which postulates that AI must only intervene in users’ lives in ways that respect their autonomy, as well as creating transparency in all actions of an AI.

The result of our deliberations is an account of a day in the life, a sort of narrative collage (Kostera Citation2006), made up of three different entirely fictional voices: Aristotle (the student), Plato (the teacher), and Socrates (the AI ‘thing’). The collage is chronologically ordered, and it is construed to highlight relational aspects between the actors as well as conveying contextual aspects. Reflecting upon our creation of this collage, one could say that it represents an allegory of its construction: one of us attributed the sentence ‘Woke up brutally, by falling out of bed’ to the student, and this triggered us to engage in a serendipitous relational and contextual storytelling (cf. Kostera Citation2005) based on the set of design principles that represent our (inter)subjective experiences of working with the realms of management and art education.

Design principles

Having accounted for our methodological considerations, it is time to turn to the principles we deem to be crucial for designing management/art education. We simply call them as we have experienced them: mind, body, and soul. For the sake of clarity, we present them one by one. However, it should be noted that we believe these principles to be highly intertwined, forming a whole rather than being mutually exclusive parts.

The mind principle

The mind principle largely revolves around processes of sensemaking and the orchestration of meaningful relations between cues and frames. Weick (Citation1995, 111) writes: ‘Frames tend to be past moments of socialization and cues tend to be present moments of experience. If a person can construct a relation between these two moments, meaning is created’ (Weick Citation1995, 111). Such a view on sensemaking looks beyond traditional management of meaning, it neither presupposes the possibility of controlling people’s meaning-making processes nor aims for a specific content of meaning. Sensemaking is inherently retrospective and subjective and, therefore, cannot be prescribed. In the regard that it is triggered by the unexpected or ambiguous – and enacted in dialogue into intersubjectivity – sensemaking can, however, be orchestrated in a learning situation. On the one hand, an ensemble of unexpected or ambiguous cues could be presented to the students; and on the other hand, interpretative philosophical laboratories (Kristensson Uggla, Citationforthcoming) could be set up for the students to collectively make sense of what they have experienced in, and through, dialogue. Artworks here function as perfect cues for dialogical sensemaking.

In the sense that actors – in and through sensemaking processes – in one way or the other strive to restore an intersubjective order of meaning (cf. Berger and Luckmann [Citation1966] Citation1991), sensemaking could epistemologically-wise be understood as a somewhat conservative mind principle. Sensemaking simply runs the risk of being reduced to ‘single-loop learning’, to use Chris Argyris (Citation1977) well-known concept: neither learning objectives nor means for attaining the objectives are challenged, and problems are solved within established frames of mind. To accentuate the inherent transformative aspect of sensemaking, and to foster the questioning of underlying assumptions about the world and the way we understand it, our mind principle for teaching what is not there relies on both ‘double-loop learning’ (Argyris Citation1977; Cartwright Citation2002) and ‘triple-loop learning’ (for a discussion see Tosey, Visser, and Saunders Citation2012). Whereas the former entails an educational strategy to shift the perceptions of the students with regards to experienced problems, methods, and solutions, the latter also entails a strategy for transforming the students’ capacity from ‘learning’ to ‘learning how to learn’.

From the perspective of the transformative character of the sensemaking process we envision, our mind principle is a ‘mindshift’ principle: it foresees a paradigmatic change – or quantum leap (Armstrong and Hardgrave Citation2007) – of the students’ minds. According to Armstrong and Hardgrave (Citation2007), such mindshifts are triggered by changes in technology, social behaviors, and self-awareness, i.e. that type of changes that in turn triggers changes in the way we act, the tools and concepts we use to live our lives, and the ethical positions we need to (re)orientate ourselves.

As we experience it, art functions as a potential trigger of the mind, and should as such be integrated into a pedagogy for transcendence. This pedagogy, on one hand, enables students to develop a kind of ‘subsidiary awareness’ (Polanyi Citation1966) through art encounters, and on the other hand, serves as a safeguard against myopic sensemaking.

The body principle

The second design principle for teaching management and art that we would like to highlight, focuses on the learning body, and the fostering of a self-reflexive embodied disposition towards knowledge and learning. The basis for our body principle follows the so-called ‘bodily turn’-movement (cf. Hassard, Holliday, and Willmott Citation2000), and draws upon social phenomenology and the idea that knowledge always is bodily situated, and embodied in a habitus, i.e. a system of field-specific ‘durable, transposable dispositions, structured structures predisposed to function as structuring structures, that is, as principles which generate and organize practices and representations’ (Bourdieu Citation1990, 53).

The epistemic consequences of bodily situatedness and structured disposition are threefold. First of all, knowledge tends to be invisible to the mind’s eye – or in the words of Polanyi (Citation1966) ‘tacit’. Knowledge is, as we see it, bodily inscribed and externalized in bodily practices, and as such more or less impossible to transfer to other people through explicit verbal accounts or systematized rules. Secondly, learning is a matter of the bodily internalization of a situated and structured practice – or, as the pragmatists would claim, learning is a matter of doing. And thirdly, knowledge is always predisposed, i.e. subjected to structures that govern how to act, think, perceive, and value a specific situation.

With a particular focus on these epistemic consequences, our body principle entails some strong imperatives for management teaching. Instead of aiming at transferring objective facts from the teacher’s head to the student’s, engage the student’s whole body and all of their senses in their subjective striving for knowledge. Instead of training the students into passively reading about, or listening to, other peoples’ experiences from a specific field of knowledge, let them actively partake in the practices of the very same field. Instead of reproducing the students’ established habitus, let the students break out of the structured structures that not only keep their bodies captive but also their knowledge and their learning processes.

Art compellingly addresses these imperatives. Art could, for instance, be used as a sensitizing experience, bringing in unexplored bodily senses such as tactile and taste to the educational setting (cf. Küpers Citation2017); students could be encouraged to work in different artistic traditions, using artistic tools and practices to incorporate fluid dispositions to their habitus (cf. Mithen Citation2000); and artistic interventions in terms of performances, seminars, study visits, art talks, and workshops could help to disrupt the students’ bodily positions, and provide them with a sanctuary in the form of an alternative discourse or a new vista to act from (cf. Antal and Strauß Citation2014; Sköldberg, Woodilla, and Antal Citation2015). Additionally, art could support the students’ experiences of resonance, which can help restore their relations to the world. Instead of appropriating the world, as is often taught in management education, art opens up the possibility of experiencing it, in an unpredictable, uncontrollable way. The experience is embodied, it happens through the skin, breath, voice, gaze, and other bodily organs and senses (Rosa Citation2019).

We, therefore, conclude that management students have a lot to learn from the arts in terms of both what is being created and how it is created. The blurred distinction between artists and audiences, and the accompanying coproduction of value between them, is also an inspiring ideal to strive for in learning situations.

The soul principle

The third, and last, of our teaching principles is the soul principle. This principle acknowledges the existence of something that drives human action in terms of a shared immensity that provides us with the meaning behind it all. Or, as Ralph Waldo Emerson (Citation1841, 2) puts it in The Over-soul:

(t)he soul in man is not an organ, but animates and exercises all the organs; is not a function, like the power of memory, of calculation, of comparison, but uses these as hands and feet; is not a faculty, but a light; is not the intellect and the will, but the master of the intellect and the will; is the background of our being, in which they lie, —an immensity not possessed and that cannot be possessed.

As we envision the soul principle, ‘spiritual development’ becomes an important aspect of student education. Such development is not of a religious kind, although many universities historically have relied on their religious and spiritual heritage and still do when addressing issues of spirituality. As the literary scholar Martin Hägglund (Citation2020) articulates it, secular faith can be as strong, and more important, than religious faith – and this makes it fruitful to approach spirituality also as a secular phenomenon. Instead of turning to religious myths and beliefs, we, therefore, base our soul principle on phenomenology and the Hegelian idea of ‘Geist’, a kind of collective spiritual consciousness of people and the world they live in.

Following the notion of Geist, addressing the students’ souls means going beyond the individual, to reach for a higher and shared purpose. An example of how this could be done is illustrated by the concept of ‘presencing’ (Scharmer Citation2016), ‘the blending of sensing and presence, (which) means to connect from the Source of the highest future possibility and to bring it into the now. When moving into the state of presencing, perception begins to happen from a future possibility that depends on us to come into reality’ (Scharmer Citation2016, 161). Writing an ethnography from the future can be a way to activate that kind of knowledge.

In many regards, presencing resembles the concept of Bildung, which has once again become popular in recent years – also within management education (cf. Steyaert, Beyes, and Parker Citation2016; Strannegård Citation2021). It becomes the X-factor that opens up new, possible interpretations of the world, enriches and widens our perceptions and sensemaking. It makes the world bigger, in other words. Bildung, however, also brings other educational connotations to the table since it can encompass the cultivation of character and citizenship. This is the case in the writings of Ellen Key, the Swedish author and educator, who was influential in the late nineteenth century. Ellen Key not only separated knowledge from education but also argued in favor of the latter. Knowledge she saw as ethically neutral, filled with both good and bad content; whereas education, she argued, makes us better as human beings (cf. Key Citation1897).

The basis for Ellen Key’s perspective on education was what she called ‘the fundamental soul capacities’ (cf. Ambjörnsson Citation2014), including memory, imagination, intelligence, and feeling. In the ‘lively interaction’ between these four capacities, she argued, lies education – and the soul could be perceived as a bank that encompasses the educational outcomes. The soul, Key stated, ‘should be filled with images, idea associations, personal experiences from knowledge’s various areas’ (cited in Ambjörnsson Citation2014, 6), preferably from the arts, such as literature, simply because it captures the collective experience of what it means to be a human being.

Ellen Key’s plea for education is, at the same time, a plea for democracy. Education is for all. Inscribed into our soul principle is, therefore, an ethical stance centered around, what Martha Nussbaum (Citation1998) has called, narrative imagination, i.e. both the capacity and willingness to understand the hardships of a fellow human being. By narrative imagination, Nussbaum (Citation2010, 96) means

the ability to think what it might be like to be in the shoes of a person different from oneself, to be an intelligent reader of that person’s story, and to understand the emotions and wishes and desires that someone so placed might have.

In the light of teaching what is not there in relation to management education, narrative imagination accentuates the importance of breaking out of the management bubble. But it also stresses the importance of cultivating an openness to the unknown, the randomness of life, and resonance with the world. And in this regard, we believe it to be a good idea also to let serendipity, i.e. the fortunate discovery of something not planned for, be part of our soul principle. Serendipity stems from an old Persian story about three brothers, the sons of King Serendippo, who could describe a lost animal in detail despite never having had laid their eyes on it. It so happened that their reconstruction of the animal was entirely based on traces or signs that they assembled to a meaningful whole – a semiotic method that much later on was to be utilized by Voltaire’s Zadig to draw sensible interferences out of seemingly disconnected and meaningless signs or clues (Ginzburg Citation1989). As a method, serendipity follows from the orchestration of cues and frames as it points to the precariousness of sensemaking in terms of both processes and products. But it also points to a specific ethos of curiosity and creativity coupled with a relational or constructionist epistemology. Knowledge is not ‘out there’ to be found; it resides in the relation between the signifier and the signified, and is mediated by language. Such a serendipitous attitude is cultivated, in and through, encounters with different forms of art.

To sum up the arguments for our soul principle, we believe that artistic expressions, of different kinds, serve as a jumping board to induce, or rather provoke, spiritual development amongst students. The soul principle that we envision here is, therefore, different from principles found within contemplative sciences, where introspection is often perceived as the main road to wisdom. Our soul principle transcends the boundary between self and world and encourages a leap into the unknown.

An ethnography from the future

The following is the result of an ethnographic field study carried out in the future. As visitors from the future, we have spent considerable time in the field dreaming, envisioning, and fantasizing about the actors and their daily activities, but we have also encouraged our imaginary friends from the field to write diaries to document and examine their experiences and feelings openly and honestly (cf. Bailey Citation1983). Excerpts from these diaries are here used to illustrate what an ordinary day in life might look like in the future.

For ethical reasons, we have anonymized the actors, giving them fictitious names. These names are deliberately chosen to inculcate the narrative meaning we wish to convey from the field (cf. Richardson Citation1997, 20). To avoid reproducing the gender biases associated with these fictitious names, we have deliberately chosen to mix them up, by choosing male names, but ascribing female identities to the actors, referring to them in terms of ‘she’ and ‘her’.

We have also refrained from time and place mark our study. For our study to make sense for a contemporary reader, we are aware of a need to briefly account for the institutionalized educational context in which our field study is conducted. Firstly, it is taken-for-granted that students are co-creators of knowledge, and that the primary learning objective for the students is to develop as human beings and contribute with feasible solutions to wicked problems and global challenges. Secondly, it is taken-for-granted that the role of teachers is to facilitate both the students’ and their own learning processes. Being a teacher is to be a student, and vice versa. And thirdly, AI is an integral part of all learning processes, whether we like it or not. However, we believe an artistic stance can help us to keep a critical distance from it.

Our informants’ accounts are arranged chronologically in a matrix. This enables at least two different types of reading: either one could read it vertically – from left to right, row by row – to get a sense of the interactions between the actors, or one could read it horizontally – column by column – to get an understanding of the actors’ subjective accounts of their day. Preferably, one oscillates between these two types of reading to make sense of our ethnography, however, different reading sequences might very well produce different enactments and understandings of the text (cf. Ericsson Citation2020). Hopefully, our matrix opens the text for interpretation and, as such, calls for further discussion ().

Table 1. An ordinary day in the future.

Lessons learned

Reflecting upon our endeavor in this paper, we hope to have contributed at least two cues to the conversation about art in management education. Firstly, we have – based on our (inter)subjective experiences of working with management and art education – formulated a set of principles that we believe could be used productively to design or redesign management education. Secondly, we have – based on our design principles – projected ourselves into the future to query what a redesigned management education might look like. It is our hope that our ethnography from the future has given the reader some ‘food for thought’ and a glimpse into an alternative way of forming knowledge. Writing ethnographies from the future is something we believe can be used in education. It evokes ‘narrative imagination’ (Nussbaum Citation1998) and explores our relationship to the world (Rosa Citation2019).

As we see it, our set of design principles, as well as our ethnography from the future, challenges the dichotomy between approaching art as a teaching method and art (or artistry) as a learning outcome in management education (cf. Gallos Citation2009). From our social phenomenological position (cf. Berger and Luckmann [Citation1966] Citation1991; Bourdieu Citation1990; Weick Citation1995), art appears as both a means and an end. It triggers sensemaking, bodily sensations, and spiritual development that, in turn, nourish the students’ cultivation of an embodied and transcendent artistic habitus. One could however also argue that art in this sense also conveys a specific methodology in terms of a non-dualistic ontology and a relational epistemology. For example, while listening to music, the student Aristoteles experiences how she becomes part of something beyond herself.

As method, learning goal, and methodology, the employment of art has far-reaching consequences for the design of management education. First of all, since art seems to challenge the historically institutionalized hierarchical relation between teacher and student as well as the notion of education as a matter of objective knowledge transfer between teacher and student, management education intrinsically becomes a holistic venture, not to say adventure, into the unknown. In this adventure, on the one hand, epistemological unity resides between teacher and student in terms of intersubjective learning processes, and on the other hand, teacher and student are ontologically joined together by their interactions and interpretations. Basically, there are no differences between teacher and student in management education where art is employed as method, learning goal, and methodology: The teacher is a student as much as the student is a teacher. Our lesson learned in this sense challenges our initial assumption of students ‘only’ being co-creators of knowledge.

Secondly, art seems to displace management education. On the one hand, art opens up a ‘time hole’ for retrospective sensemaking, development of historical awareness, and narrative imagination that transgresses the past, the present, and the future. On the other hand, art introduces a kind of interpretative nomadism in which traditional educational spaces such as the classroom lose their relevance in favor of ongoing processes of deterritorialization and reterritorialization. Art simply knows no spatial boundaries.

The holistic and boundary transgressing aspects of art serve to free management educators from constraints in terms of when and where things can be done, who can do what, and with whom things can be accomplished. Art in this sense releases the same type of emancipatory powers that Normann (Citation2001) attributes to technology in general and digital technology in particular. Digital technology, argues Normann (Citation2001), has made dematerialization (the separation of information from physical artifacts) and liquification (the spread of information easily across space and time) possible, paving way for previously unseen roles and constellations of actors, and it is most likely that such processes will continue to increase the density of everyday life. Based on this line of argument, we consider that the intertwinement of art and digital technology has the potential to fundamentally reconfigure management education in the future.

Indeed, Artificial Intelligence could possibly even further liberate management educators and students, dissolving ontological and epistemological boundaries between, for instance, the past and the present, fact and fiction, and man and machine. Perhaps the most striking example of such liberation in our ethnography from the future is Plato’s planned Q&A with Alvin Huxley, a purely fictional cartoon character from the past.

Nonetheless, the future of AI is not entirely optimistic. Apart from using a lot of energy, that is not yet sustainable, there are other dark clouds on the horizon in the form of information fatigue, issues of privacy protection, and situational fairness, which draw attention to bias and discriminatory processes in Human-AI interation (Floridi et al. Citation2020). Our design principles could in this regard be conceptualized as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, the principles of mind, body, and soul direct attention to competencies and skills that are most often marginalized in management education settings. Thus, art and AI could be employed to release, enhance, and develop these competencies and skills. Conversely, in the hands of AI technology, the very same principles might turn into a panoptic colonization of the students’ life worlds, if safeguards are not part of the development of the system. In this light, Aristotle’s reflective and artistic stance towards the managerial ‘maze and gaze’ displayed in our ethnography from the future appears as a necessary counterweight towards over-enthusiastic notions of both digitalization and AI within management education.

This brings us to our last lesson learned. Our project has indeed been a political project in the sense that we set out to destabilize the ingrained approaches to management education by incorporating art into managerial practices. We have however tried to steer away from portraying our ethnography from the future as a kind of Utopia (or Dystopia for that matter). Not because we believe that it is possible or desirable to be value-neutral as researchers, but because we believe that it is more important to open up a discussion of possible alternatives rather than closing potential discussions with ‘There Is No Alternative-rhetoric’ (cf. Paulsen Citation2019). Our endeavor has, therefore, not been to search for the future; it has been an imaginative quest for alternative futures, which is what art can help us realize.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

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