Span of Control

There’s a term that gets used in emergency management*, called Span of Control. Basically, it’s about how much one person can hold in a crisis - how many people they can supervise, how much information they can take in, assimilate, and share back out. Too small a span of control and resources can get wasted, and processes can be inefficient. You can’t move at speed. But with too BIG a span of control, communication can break down, necessary steps can get lost. You’re drinking from a firehose. 

I keep feeling guilt about my own current personal span of control. Almost every day there’s a new disaster. A new way for humanity to end, a new horror eroding our humanity in the meantime. I’m not being glib, that’s real. Except, I can’t look at that. I spiral. I get paralyzed by fear, grief, and most of all, powerlessness. The relationship between the enormity of the problem and the tinyness of my time, energy, and resources would be funny if it wasn’t so dire.  

But that’s actually the POINT of the idea of span of control. The point is to identify what piece of a huge problem you can reasonably take responsibility for, and what small group of people you’ll hold that responsibility with. They each, in turn, have their own span of control. Each person fits into a structure bigger than themselves. (People who are really into Incident Command Systems, don’t at me, this is a bit of a metaphor, okay?) 

For me, finding my span of control has meant asking myself what I can do that is useful, particularly what I can do that is uniquely useful. What are needed things I can do that others can’t? Or that lots of others aren’t? And is there a thing in that category that also brings me joy and fulfillment? 

My answer has been this - emergency management. Spreading the good word about disaster preparedness, through a collectively-oriented, community-grounded lens. Getting a second masters in my 40s, because this work feels deeply needed and like a field where we could use more progressive people and like a way to bring useful information to communities I care about. I feel terrified when I read headlines about AI. I feel useful and capable when I organize a go bag prep session, which helps my friends and neighbors feel more prepared. And when I research and write about the centrality of trust in disaster, which is both essential and under-studied.

This approach involves trust not just as a research focus, but as a practice. I have to trust that while I am in my emergency management lane, other brilliant, loving, creative people are in their lanes, focused on AI, and the climate crisis, and elections, and and and. When they need to tap me for a task, they do. And then I trust that they are guiding me to useful action, because that’s their area of expertise. That’s the span they control. 

I guess there’s one way to look at this that’s an abdication, a letting myself off the hook. I could do more, maybe. But I’ve learned that while I can do a great many things, I can’t do all the things excellently, simultaneously. And at this moment on the clock of the world, half-assing urgent things is foolish. Picking a span of control is an invitation to focus, hone, and claim a piece of the work. To say yes, this task is mine to do, to the best of my ability. I will hold this.

Or like they say in the book I’m reading with my kid at bedtime right now, you do the most good, for the most people, for as long as you have the spoons.  

ps - speaking of go bag prep sessions, I’m planning one for October! Drop me a line here if you’re interested. Sort of combo how-to and gear petting zoo.

*yes it gets used in other management too, I know, I know