A few months ago, I attended a panel discussion on "Applied Empathy" hosted by consulting firm Sub Rosa, which featured three speakers from a variety of disciplines. The specific theme of that evening was "Consumption" - an idea relevant to most fields, but impossible to ignore in mine. We consume food literally and in media, we consume resources to produce it, and we often consume the ideologies of the places we eat. The panel itself felt like a sincere exploration, and the panelists brought unique perspectives that complemented one another, but the idea I kept returning to (the same one that brought me to the event in the first place) was Applied Empathy in general.
From what I can tell, Applied Empathy is a philosophy developed by Sub Rosa and spun out into a book, lecture series, podcast and card deck. They describe it as the methodology that grounds their work, and that work includes an impressive roster of clients from General Electric to the Obama Administration. Sub Rosa's website and online presence is seamless and beautiful - defined by bold fonts, photogenic millenials, and the confident declaration that they are "a team of creative problem solvers." Searching the website for a copy-and-paste-able definition of "Applied Empathy" left me at a bit of a loss, but did bring up a book on the subject by Michael Ventura, and a deck of question cards with the vaguely tarot-feel of a mystical practice.
All of which is not meant to disparage the concept - from what I can tell as an outsider, Sub Rosa is a consulting company attempting to make their clients more successful in an ethical way (much like Third Space). Empathy is a quality historically lacking in the world of business - and an essential one for maintaining cohesion on teams, increasing employees' quality of life, and understanding the real needs of clients. And the panel introduced me to a new way of looking at empathy in general - not as a binary or even a continuum, but a richer set of qualities that help us understand ourselves better and provide a framework for actively practicing growth. A powerpoint slide left up throughout the panel described a set of seven "Empathic Archetypes" and their skills, including:
Sage
(Be Present - Inhabit the here and now)
Inquirer
(Question - Interrogate assumed truths)
Convener
(Host - Anticipate the needs of others)
Confidant
(Listen - Summon the ability to observe and absorb)
Cultivator
(Commit - Nurter and intentionally grow)
Seeker
(Dare - Be confident and fearless)
Alchemist
(Experiment - Test and learn at all costs)
Like reading a horoscope or learning about love languages, there is something immediately thrilling about assigning yourself an archetype, especially when the options seem universally positive. Archetypes give us permission to see the most compelling version of ourselves, and help us feel our place in the fabric of communities. Less thrilling is the task of naming your weakest spots, but most of us have some practice with this part nonetheless.
I found it almost too easy to triangulate my personality. I am a convener, of course, with a heaping helping of confidant and moments of sagacity. In gatherings, whether business meetings or dinner parties, I find myself overly aware of the emotional cues of each atttendee. Myopically, this is also the exact mixture I would have thought was the very definition of empathy, and the most essential in hospitality. A restaurant needs a host, after all, and guests want to feel the safety of having their needs seen and heard.
Months later, I find myself seeking out the other archetypes among the individuals I work for and with. I see how valuable it is to have a seeker on your team to get the doors open that first time, and an alchemist to keep experimenting for a better way of running things. Likewise, some of the best managers I know are natural inquirers, who can look at the ossified structures in an organization and ask why things are the way they are, all while bringing other team members into the conversation.
For now, I personally am working on my inner cultivator - arguably the most unappreciated archetype in the fast-paced industry of New York food and beverage. Because the cultivator inherently needs time to practice her craft. She needs a commitment to set aside quick rewards for the sake of something longer term and less tangible. But without that kind of intentional work, there'd be very little space for the rest of us to get together and do what we do.