2. Stafford Beer

Later on, Beer would identify it as one of his fundamental axioms: ‘It is not necessary to enter the black box to understand the nature of the function it performs.’ The underlying idea is somewhat stronger than this: if the black box is a complex system, it’s likely to be pointless — or even dangerous — to try to understand its inner workings and use that understanding to manipulate a precise outcome. This is a matter of respecting the complexity of the problem — a genuinely complex system is one in which you cannot hope to get full or perfect information about the internal structure, and cannot have any acceptable degree of confidence that the bits of information you don’t have can be safely ignored. Rather that trying to use a mixture of partial information, preconceived theory and guesswork, you need to step back, accept that the system will keep its secrets, and observe its behaviour. And of course, this means that the different observers might have different opinions. The property of ‘being a black box’ isn’t an objective one — it’s a description of a decision taken by someone working on the system that they don’t have enough understanding to safely treat it in any other way. In some of Beer’s writings, the property of complexity itself is also dealt with in this way; rather than trying to count combinations of connections, you define what it is for something to be a complex system by saying that it’s one which has to be treated as a black box.*

*if you can control something in your factory like a machine, it’s a ‘clear box’ in this language; there are even ‘muddy boxes’, where more detailed analysis could help understand the relationship between inputs and outputs but the system keeps a few secrets because really detailed analysis would require disproportionate effort.

Economists end up solving this problem by denying it (a mechanism that Stafford Beer looked at in detail, concluding that ignorance is a kind of information processing system of last resort). Where analysis fails, ideology steps in, and the solution the economists decided on was to fantasise an equivalent system for producers — a profit-maximising firm with an understanding of its market, a style production process and a manageable set of decisions. It ended up going disastrously wrong, but the original intellectual sin may have been the failure to respect the integrity of the black box.

An organisation does things, and it systematically does some things rather than others. But that’s as far as it goes. Systems don’t make mistakes — if they do something, that’s their purpose. But it also works the other way around. Systems don’t have inner desires, so they don’t do things intentionally either. There’s just a network of cause and effect. We might think they’re conspiring, but they’re working within structures that made the outcome inevitable. Or we might see everything as a terrible cock-up, but we don’t understand that the outcome was the inevitable result of the way the system works.

Stafford Beer takes an approach to this problem that helps to mark the distinction between information theory and cybernetics. That solution is to say that information and action are one and the same; variety coming in from the environment, or being transferred from one system to another, only counts as ‘information’ if it has a causal role in decision-making. Otherwise it’s just ‘data’ — collections of facts that hang around on disk drives, waiting to be erased* or for the format to become obsolete.

*There are a lot of people is Silicon Valley who might do well to consider how much money they have invested in ‘data’ without bearing this distinction in mind.

Corporations are decision-making systems, not ‘intelligences’. They have homeostatic forces which aim to maintain their equilibrium, and higher-order decision-making systems which mean they are able to reorganise themselves in order to respond to shocks beyond the scope of anything anticipated when they were designed. To attribute motivation to them is to make assumptions about the internal workings of the black box — the original intellectual sin of cybernetic analysis.