By not doing the work to discover the vulnerabilities that needed to be fixed before a full-scale launch, the pilot failed the company and its customers. The solution is to create incentives that motivate pilots not to succeed but rather to fail well. An effective pilot is littered with the right kind of wrong-numerous intelligent failures, each generating valuable information. To design a smart pilot in your organization, you should be able to answer yes to the following questions:

1. Is the pilot being tested under typical (or better yet, challenging) circumstances (rather than optimal ones)?

1. Is the goal of the pilot to learn as much as possible (not to prove the success of the innovation to senior executives)?

1. Is it clear that compensation and performance reviews are not based on a successful outcome for the pilot?

1. Were explicit changes made as a result of the pilot?

Owning our errors becomes easier when we accept human fallibility as a fact and put that acceptance to use in learning and improving. In the most successful teams in my research, people, especially team leaders, talk about the ever-present chance that things will go wrong. They are honest and good-humored about mistakes, which nurtures the psychological safety you need for people to speak up quickly about them. This is a best practice—in families, too, not just work teams—if you want to reduce basic failures.

Embracing the Possibility of Failure to Reduce the Occurrence of Failure

My decades-long fascination with error, harm, and failure has left me humble about the complexity of these topics. The mix of factors—technology, psychology, management, systems—means none of us can master every aspect of the relevant knowledge to feel “we’ve got this.” But a few simple practices have emerged from my work that can help prevent complex failures. With these, we all have the power to make that kind of difference—in our own lives and in the organizations we care about.

Eskreis-Winkler and Fishbach concluded that unawareness of failures’ useful information made learning from failure difficult. So they designed an experiment in which participants were helped to identify the useful information in their failures, and this made them more likely to share them.

“Use Systems Thinking to Change How We Think about Error …

Rely on inquiry

So Morath faced a challenge: How to help people to see and accept their hospital’s failures? Rather than doubling down on her logic—You work in a complex error-prone system, don’t you see? Things will go wrong!—she instead invited clinicians to reflect on their experiences that week with their patients, then prompted, “Was everything as safe as you would have liked it to have been?” Her aspirational question opened the floodgates. Most people had been in what Morath called “a health-care situation where something did not go well,” and

once they reflected on the many problems they had noticed, they became eager to talk about what had happened and how they might improve…

New language

Another element of the patient safety system was what Morath called Words to Work By—a roster of suggested terms designed to help shift mindsets from blaming to learning. Morath substituted neutral-sounding words such as study for the more threatening word investigation, which put people on the defensive…

Synergy…

As with the system at 3M that supported people’s intelligent failures in ways that encouraged product innovation, and the system at Toyota that made quality improvement second nature, Children’s Minnesota built a robust learning system that turned everyone into an active participant in patient safety. Morath’s approach reminds us that system design is more than simply coming into an organization and flipping a single switch. It’s flipping multiple switches understanding how they work as a system.