the system isn't broken...
it's doing exactly what it was designed to do.
One of the joys of working in sport and being involved in the learning and development coaches is that this space continues to evolve. At least that’s what we tell ourselves. We sit in rooms pat ourselves on the back, touting how we’re doing a good job while we reincarnate the same practices that hurt us when we were young. We praise the awareness that social media and Bluey can bring, but we don’t really do anything with that information. So are we really evolving anything? Or do we just keep trying to retrofit innovation into a system that was never really designed to accept it?
I was recently challenged on the idea that coach education is broken. This challenge would have unravelled me in the past and I’m so proud of myself for approaching it with curiosity this time. It is a statement worth challenging because if you stop to think about it, the system that perpetuates coach education isn’t necessarily broken… it’s just not fit for purpose anymore. The system is doing exactly what it was designed to do: to be self-serving, controlling, and consistent to a fault.
You can have creativity, but only when we tell you, and only within the walls that we create for you. You can have problems to solve, but don’t talk about them here. We are learning about something else, something that is bigger than you and you need to care about that more than the issues that you face when you go to training and stand by yourself in the middle of the field - alone, unsupported, and just trying to get by.
I don’t need to reach into the annals of history to highlight where this comes from or the inevitable road that this is taking us down because we are already deep in it. The effects are everywhere we look: drop out rates, burnout, suicide rates, physical literacy. Dare I go on. The problem is, we think we’re doing a good job. And that means we’re not open to change, let alone evolution.
So what if it’s less about fixing a broken system and more about building a new system from the ground up? I feel like we have been wasting so much of our time trying to make recommendations and fending off the habits and traditions and comforts of “the way we’ve always done things” until we shy away from genuinely finding out why they exist to begin with. If we really wanted to understand why, we would have to go and talk to every day people. We would have to be on the ground alongside them, and treat them as experts of their own context. And that is no easy feat, but it’s not impossible.
Recently I joined the Talent Equation Podcast to chat about a hopeful future for learning opportunities in sport. I use that language quite intentionally, because ultimately that’s exactly what we hope for, right? That people see themselves as learners and when they are faced with a problem, they have somewhere to turn for support, not solutions.
I always found it funny how we gravitated towards this so easily when talking about athlete development but there has been a delay in coach development, as if we are not all just learners, doing our best to keep our heads above water. One thing I didn’t mention in the podcast was the idea of a three-step training plan - the three steps from your car to the field.
What if it could be that simple? What if we didn’t need session plans because we know that best laid plans come undone anyway? Instead, what if we were prepared to tackle one problem to solve, together? What if we actually co-designed what that problem could look like today, or in what direction we want to travel for this session? What if I didn’t actually have to have a plan for every second of a training session but watched it unfold as we go? What if being curious was more important than being right?
What even is right?
I’ve always loved the idea that our overarching hope (read as learning objective) for the season was something greater than the game itself. Not necessarily limited to whatever sport you’re playing, but the vast skills and capabilities you could collect along the way. For me, when I work with young people, I want them to think of sport as being a place for laughter and challenge, doing things you didn’t think you could do before. But that’s just me, I would love to get to the point where every coach has their version of that.
We know that feeling competent in a space keeps us there for longer, so I’m not saying that being skilful is not important - in technical sports like cricket, it’s tempting to put this element on a pedestal. But that’s not necessarily why some people will pretend to bowl every time they walk down a grocery aisle, or shadow bat while having a conversation. There is a deeper joy and connection that goes beyond being able to perform a movement pattern or achieve a specific outcome.
The same goes for coaching - you can have all of your activities and your session plans, predetermined questions and points of reflection, but don’t let those get in the way of what is happening right here, right now. And if we want to support people in responding to the here and now, we need to be there too. At least sometimes. Maybe it’s actually not us, not the people in polo shirts and logos and offices in stadiums, but another everyday person who is an expert in a similar context and feels comfortable striking up a conversation.
I want to try something this year. It stems from ‘recognition, not qualifications’ as Stu talks about in this episode.
What if we could accredit a conversation?
If we hear someone is doing good work as a coach, is meeting the needs of their participants, exploring activity designs and reflecting on how they went, listening to the experience of their learners… Why can’t we say from that demonstration alone that they are already an ‘accredited’ coach? What would attending a course give this person?
Yes, there are going to be social learning elements of being in a room with other coaches but realistically, if we are striving for good not perfect, they’ve already nailed the brief. Why take them out of their own context to demonstrate this, when they are already more than capable within it?
We cannot underestimate the power of a conversation, especially a thoughtful, intentional correspondence. When does the conversation become correspondence? When our knowledge is grown by participating with the world, not just talking about it. It is emergent, and difficult to design into formal curriculums.
To me, it’s kinda like Pokémon Go. (bear with me)
You have to venture out into the world, into spaces you’ve maybe never been before, and try to catch this elusive thing. As someone who wants to support coaches to learn and grow, I’m not saying they’re the Pokémon here - the things they want to learn are. And just like many things in life, sometimes you need a guide to help you find that right space to catch that rare Pokémon. Sometimes you need to fight a battle together to win over a gym. Sometimes you just need someone to talk to, so you don’t feel alone. We can design some of this into a course, sure, but does it ever really make it back to their world? Not really.
I think I’ll be on this tangent for a little while, so I’ll hope you’ll join me as it continues to unfold. I’m not quite sure where it’s going yet, but I hope it’s somewhere we’ve never really been before. Not because it is new knowledge - we already know so much about what we could be doing in a more responsive system that is genuinely built for learning.. no, I want it to be somewhere that we build together, a new system that is intentional, and emergent in the way it inspires action.
Thankfully, I’m not just writing about this - I’m doing it. Every day. And I am so lucky. What will you do?
Acknowledgements
I’ve been thinking a lot about what goes into my writing, and I wanted to highlight that these thoughts are never just my own. They are grown together with some incredible people that I find entangled in a meshwork of friends, colleagues, mentors and sources of inspiration. This month, I wanted to thank Cam Tradell, Stu Armstrong, Noel Dempsey, Carl Woods, Denise Henry, Ricky Pachon and Erch Selimi for our shared pondering of these topics and the opportunity to write about them.
you have the fantastic ability to take the thoughts I and other coaches are thinking/feeling and put them down in words that resonate. thank you! really love this post. especially this part:
"What if it could be that simple? What if we didn’t need session plans because we know that best laid plans come undone anyway? Instead, what if we were prepared to tackle one problem to solve, together? What if we actually co-designed what that problem could look like today, or in what direction we want to travel for this session? What if I didn’t actually have to have a plan for every second of a training session but watched it unfold as we go? What if being curious was more important than being right?"