A colleague recently asked me whether I use any metaphors to describe my evaluation practice. I immediately thought of the relationship between map and territory. Humans map many different things: physical landscapes, human populations, the human brain and genome, to name a few. Mapping provides us with a way to visualize or make sense of a “territory” that is too complex to understand in its entirety. I first encountered the metaphor of map and territory through my work with the Human Venture Institute. While it wasn’t presented in terms of evaluation, I have found it especially useful in that context.
First, the metaphor assumes that a ‘territory’ exists. While this may seem obvious, I come across many people who don’t believe in an objective reality. This relativist perspective asserts that individual experience shapes how people understand the world (which I accept) and it is not possible to judge one perspective as more valid than another (which I reject). As an evaluator, if we don’t believe that a ‘territory’ exists, we relinquish our responsibility to verify our judgments against an objective reality; everything comes down to one’s opinion.
Given this starting assumption of an existing territory: what characterizes a useful map? First, accuracy. Imagine a map of a forest. The map shows you a clear path that leads out of the forest. However, if the map is incorrect, you can easily become lost, having no bearing of where you are or how to get where you want to go. Like the map, your data must represent enough of reality to be useful. The evaluator’s responsibility is to ground their observations and conclusions in how accurately or inaccurately they correspond to the territory. The dynamics that influence our lives and communities are knowable. We are not only learning to understand people’s experience or perceptions but also inquiring how that matches the actual situation.
One complicating factor is that no map can capture all the complex, dynamic elements of the forest. Similarly, we will never be able to understand everything about our complex realities. We need to select what we pay attention to. For example, if you’re an acorn gatherer, you might want a map that shows you where the trees with acorns are located. However, if you’re trying to understand how the elevation changes as you’re walking, this map will not be very useful (despite its accuracy). Identifying the parts of the territory to map out and know what to pay attention to and how to interpret that part of the territory is an essential part of the process. From an evaluation perspective, this highlights the importance of asking questions like: How do we know what to pay attention to and learn about to inform our strategic direction? What information do we have the capacity to respond to? What will help us understand our context enough to support meaningful interpretation of what we learn?
Last, imagine how confusing it would be if you were with a group of friends looking for a lake in the forest, and everyone had conflicting maps. This becomes even more complicated when these conflicting maps have been helpful to different people in different situations. How do you determine which maps to abandon? How do you convince someone who has used a map for years that parts of it must be redrawn? We all have mental maps that tell us how to interpret and act in the world. The more we experience our maps as useful and accurate, the less reason we have to let go of them. As an evaluator, it’s essential to understand the maps that people, institutions and communities use to make sense of their worlds. Without that, it’s impossible to understand how to present new ideas or information, or why learnings may be rejected. and to empathize when they do.
While these sorts of metaphors have their limits, I have found them helpful to challenge my thinking, be explicit about my assumptions, and communicate the questions I grapple with through this challenging work of understanding what to pay attention to and determining its significance.