This month’s blog article is an excerpt from our newly released publication: “Integrated Monitoring: A Practical Manual for Organisations That Want to Achieve Results.” You can download the entire manual for free at our Resource Library.

I began working on this manual more than two years ago. By then I had over 10 years of professional experience, having worked for a major donor and a range of non-profits, both from within and as a consultant. Yet for all this experience, I didn’t really know how to monitor a project, since I had never done it before.

Thus I embarked on a long research journey, where I encountered extensive literature, experts, and training courses on Monitoring and Evaluation (M&E). On my way, I got lost in forests of sophisticated Excel tables and endless data collection tools, and nearly drowned in oceans of monitoring books that treated it as a separate and sophisticated science. The more I got into the topic, the more complex it appeared and the more overwhelmed and confused I became. But eventually I discovered some islands of common sense that were not about monitoring itself, but about the difference non-profits can make with their work and how they can truly achieve results. These were the “off-stream” writers that you will find in the references section of this manual and to whom I am deeply grateful.

I spent another year developing what you will find in these pages, which reflects the content of our M&E and Project Management courses that we have delivered to hundreds of course participants, using their feedback to improve our approach. This manual is dedicated to them.

Just as a cook won’t succeed in preparing a gourmet dinner and satisfying his or her guests simply because he or she is using fancy kitchen implements and the best ingredients, non-profit professionals can’t expect monitoring tools alone to solve the challenge of achieving meaningful results. More than anything else you need to be ready to taste the food while you cook, assess that taste, and then decide whether everything is fine or if you need to add more of certain ingredients. It also helps to invite others to taste since they may have a different opinion and, if you are really serious about becoming a good cook, you need to ask your guests for feedback.

This is what we mean by integrated monitoring, a way of getting feedback from your “guests” on whether you are making progress towards achieving your goals while you are working towards them, so that you can take the necessary measures to change your strategy if needed. In the pages that follow, you will see that monitoring is not a tool or a method, but a way of doing, an attitude that needs to underpin everything you do.

We hope this manual will support you and your organisations in enhancing your understanding of monitoring, and help you become confident chefs of projects that succeed in making a positive difference to the communities they aim to support.

This is another syndrome that seems to affect both NGOs and donors alike. It comes with the belief that in order to be the most effective in their endeavours, NGOs need to involve themselves in as many projects as possible, regardless of the resources available.

Because of the inherent challenges of prioritising and making difficult choices, NGOs often find themselves with far too many self-imposed demands, which are overly ambitious and impossible to fulfil. The result is stress and frustration, which hinders productivity. This syndrome is usually caused by the need to satisfy their consciences with the thought that they are doing as much good as possible.

What concerns me the most is the huge deal of resignation with which people face this syndrome, as if there’s absolutely nothing they can do about it. There exists a pervasive belief in the development world that many problems need urgent attention, which results in the notion that NGOs must address as many issues as possible, as quickly as possible.

I fundamentally disagree with this assumption. Everything we do is a choice, not an obligation, whether we’re aware of it or not. We spend our time in certain ways because we choose to. We have the choice to work with 200 different communities or not to, to write a new report or not to, to organise another event or to wait. Like in any other aspect of life, each choice is based upon an anticipated reward. If NGOs didn’t receive rewards for having far too many priorities, they would stop doing it. This is where the donors come in.

Donors understandably want to see as much good brought about with their contributions as possible. Unfortunately this creates pressure for the NGOs to cover as many topics as possible, thus spreading their resources too thinly.

If we really care about making a difference with development projects, I believe that NGOs and donors alike must learn to detach their sense of satisfaction and accomplishment from the number of activities, interventions or the amount of money spent. They need to see that conducting a single activity and taking the time to properly plan it, observe the results, reflect, learn from it and integrate that learning into the next activity, is far more effective than conducting ten activities without these steps.

So for me the main dilemma is not a shortage of time or resources; it is a problem of priorities. To move forward, we should begin by recognising the reality that just because something is needed is not a sufficient reason for doing it. We need to be aware of and honest about what it is that we can realistically influence, and then focus our time and energy only on these few issues.

Once we start to focus on quality over quantity, both NGOs and those they are serving will be better off.

The Super-Hero Syndrome affects both donors and Non-Governmental Organisations (NGOs). The syndrome allows people to believe that the impossible is possible, that despite extremely limited resources and overwhelming goals, they will somehow succeed, and that change can only happen at a large scale which is why they all have to aim big.

What is really dangerous about it is that, at first glance, it appears as something rather healthy and thus, no measures are taken against it. In small doses, this syndrome can indeed be something positive. However, it is often dangerous, for when it appears it tends to do so in large amounts. Under its influence, people forget about the reality of the situation and put all their resources and efforts into “saving the world” while failing to acknowledge that we can only start by “saving” a couple of people, if any at all.

I wouldn’t bother about those over-ambitious goals if it was not for the damage they cause to “the rest”. Indeed, because we are all pressured to achieve big aims we cannot focus on small things that could work and make a small difference. Thus, instead of recognising that we are not super-heroes and figuring out what we can realistically do with the few resources we have to contribute to extinguishing the fire, we all pretend we can extinguish the fire ourselves and spend all our resources in doing so, even if we know that it’s absolutely unrealistic.

So we often set ourselves up to achieve unrealistic goals which we cannot reach, which is the reason why we keep coming back to equally unrealistic donors to ask for more resources to again attempt to reach the same unrealistic goals. The result is that the people in need hardly ever get anything out of our vicious (and completely absurd) unrealistic-goals-cycle.

But why do we suffer from the Super-Hero Syndrome? My theory –and I didn’t make it up- is that in any human endeavour, the people paying the bills are the ones to keep happy. The big problem with foreign and development aid and other Western efforts to transform the developing world is that the ones paying the bills are wealthy people from the North.  They demand big actions to solve big problems, which is understandable and compassionate. The public wants to have a good conscience and asks aid agencies and development workers to attain utopian ideals such as ending poverty, or bringing democracy to all countries. The public doesn’t want to hear that we are only doing small things to solve big problems. If only someone could convince the public that any big changes start with tiny steps, we would all be much better off.

In order to escape this vicious cycle, I only see one way. We all have to accept that we are not super-heroes, we need to be honest about what we can and cannot achieve, and openly talk about it. We should leave any big plans aside and focus on modest, achievable steps, acknowledging that development happens mainly through homegrown efforts and that we need to focus on those people at the local level who can make a difference to their own societies.

With this type of thinking I often feel like a sinful atheist in the midst of an ocean of priests. Who dares to say to a donor or an NGO whose goal is to fight poverty or promote human rights that they may need to reconsider their goals? In my view, the compassion and hard work of NGOs and donors alike deserves the utmost admiration and respect, but whenever their efforts fail to reach the people in need, something needs to be done.

As 2011 comes to a close, we also celebrate the first year of life for inProgress. During this first year we have come up with innovative approaches and also found creative ways of discussing very sensitive topics, such as the efficiency and effectiveness of NGOs.

My great surprise this year has been that we have never found resistance from NGO staff members to the very sensitive questions we were raising about how they work and how it could be improved. Quite the contrary, I have observed with deep respect how people accepted the challenge and started questioning themselves by talking openly about these issues. As if they had been waiting for a long time to be able to talk about their deep concerns and questions related to the difference they make with their work. People were hungry for tools and new approaches that would allow them to do their work better, and they have received everything we’ve shared in knowledge and tools with open minds and spirits.

When I think of all those tough conversations we have generated during the workshops and of all those struggling to find a better way to work and willing to go down that difficult path, I feel great optimism for the difference NGOs can make. I have to admit that I created inProgress mainly out of frustration after having worked ten years for one of the biggest donors in Europe as well as several international NGOs. At that time I felt frustrated by the fact that oftentimes all the energy, goodwill, and strong commitment from NGOs fell short of their full potential. It’s not that I have radically changed my mind after this year, but I have gained the hope that things have the potential to change for the better.

What now remains to be done, in my opinion, is to talk less about aid effectiveness and similar topics producing studies to analyse the situation and why it doesn’t work. I feel that people know very well why things don’t work to their full potential, and that the most effective way to address these issues is by asking the right questions and then providing concrete alternatives and tools to work differently. The willingness is there, as we have seen this year, and I believe that if we all join forces, real and lasting change is possible.

I just felt like sharing some words of optimism as we are getting closer to a period of the year where people seem more willing to believe in their dreams.

I used to be a marathon runner. Not in the literal sense of running the 42km race, but I felt like a long-distance runner in my work: always busy, always doing something new, organising events and conferences, writing position papers, and attending meetings. I was running all time and actually when I now look back and reflect on it, I realise with surprise, and a certain concern, that I dedicated extremely little time to reflect about what I was doing and why. I am positive that if at that time I would have attended one of the inProgress trainings on Monitoring and Evaluation, I would have given the same answer as a vast majority of our participants. Namely that monitoring and knowing whether what we do is useful or not is key to our work but unfortunately, due to other more urgent priorities, it hardly ever gets done.

We constantly receive that answer to the Needs Assessments that we send to our participants prior to our trainings, and I know from my own experience that it does reflect reality. We all know that reflecting on our work and learning from our mistakes and from what works is crucial in order to be successful. However, extremely few people seem to take it seriously enough. It is a bit like practicing a sport; we all know it’s great for our health but how many of us do really do it on a regular basis. I bet not many!

I have been thinking about what made me change my approach and slow down my rhythm in order to start reflecting more. I must admit that it only happened once I became a consultant and, all of a sudden, I started getting paid for thinking, reflecting and learning. I started to conduct evaluations and write reports. Basically, I was being asked to think for organisations that didn’t have the time to do it themselves because they were busy running, busy doing things. So learning and thinking was almost a luxury, and was considered as something that an external person could do for them. After several extremely frustrating experiences as a consultant, I came to the conclusion that this approach was fundamentally wrong. No one can do the reflection and learning for ourselves; it just doesn’t work.

That was the time when I decided to stop doing well-paid but questionably useful consultancy work and created inProgress. Now I spend most of my time trying to help organisations see that reflecting on what we do, learning from it, and integrating that learning into the next activity, project or programme we conduct is not merely “nice to have,” a luxury, or something we mainly do because donors ask for it. We try to show people that knowing whether their social solutions and approaches are working is the only way to ensure success, and social change. To understand that that this isn’t only a moral obligation, but that it’s also the only way to show genuine respect for the people we are all trying to help.

I sincerely encourage individuals working in non-profit organisations to challenge the culture of “always being busy” and to start creating a culture of learning in which reflecting and learning isn’t a luxury done only when there is spare time (which people normally never have!), but rather an integral part of what we do to create lasting social change.

I wanted to share with you my personal story of how I got down off the cloud I was
 comfortably sitting on, and how rewarding it is to be on the earth, close to where the
plants are.

My professional career had evolved in the human rights sector. It had always been
 my dream job and I could feel how in my personal environment, people showed a lot of respect when they inquired about my job and I 
could tell them that I was working to prevent torture from happening and improve 
access to justice in the world. My life
 was seemingly perfect, since I was being paid to do something which was very close to
 my heart: helping people. However, one day something happened which caused a radical 
turn in my life to the extent that I would never feel the same again.

One morning, I was getting ready to go to the office when my daughter, who was 6 at the 
time, looked up at me with wide eyes and asked: “Mum, do
 you remember you told me that you are helping people?” “Yes,” I replied with a smile,
 very proud of myself. “So, tell me Mum, how do you do it? Do they come to your office or
do you go to their homes?” I remember looking at her while a very cold feeling crept up 
my body, and I remember opening my mouth to give her a very eloquent answer… and 
being unable to say anything.

I went to the office that day and pretended nothing had happened, but realised that I
 wasn’t able to focus on work since that question kept up coming into my mind: “How 
am I helping people?” Sure I was working really hard writing reports, organising 
conferences, meetings, and doing many other things for the good cause, but what
change did my work actually have on the lives of people I was purporting to serve? 
I kept on thinking about that question for weeks, trying to find evidence of
how I was helping people and looking deep within myself. But the deeper I looked, the
 more convinced I was that I wasn’t really helping people but just helping myself by 
pretending I was.

Three weeks later, I quit my job and started a journey of exploration and discovery.
 I went into many different jobs and projects, but this time I was driven by a very
 strong personal motivation: whatever I would end up doing, I had to be able to answer
 my daughter’s question. It wasn’t an easy journey, since I had to resign from many
 comfortable situations and choose the difficult way. I often felt lonely, left with my 
principles and endless questioning. I even wished at times to be able to get rid of that
nagging question and be able to behave as every one else seemed to: as if I didn’t know
 that what I was doing wasn’t ideal, that it could be improved, that more people could
 benefit from it if it was done differently.

In the years since, I have learned that I was never actually alone in my concerns as I had previously believed. Perhaps because I had the courage to share my personal story, I discovered that many other people had the exact same feeling and that they had also embarked in a journey to change how development aid works and contribute to improve people’s lives.

A couple of weeks ago, I went out with my daughter. She
 had been complaining about my frequent work trips and I wanted to talk with her. I told
 her about that morning four years ago and how her question had forced me to have the
 courage to challenge the very comfortable position I had on my cloud back then. I told
 her how now, since creating inProgress and finding partners who shared my concerns, I
 had finally got the feeling that what I was doing was the right thing to do in order to help 
people. I was able to tell her how
her innocent question many years before had given me the courage to look at things
 as they are, to question everything I do, and to be loyal to my inner principles. I told
her how a path that can be really hard to walk can, at the end, be extremely rewarding,
 and that anything is possible as long as we believe in ourselves. She looked at me with 
respect and I could feel that I had just given her something really important for her life.

I wanted to share this personal story with others because I see very often in our courses
 that people do know deep within themselves how they are or are not helping people and 
how they could improve their contribution. I see all that potential and I say to myself
 that things could be much better for us all if only we could all be more courageous and
 have the conversations that need to be had, raise the painful questions that need to be
 raised, and have the inner strength to believe in ourselves and the social change that
 we as individuals can make.

I encourage development, human rights, and humanitarian workers, consultants and donors
to share with us their stories, as individuals or organisations, on how they managed to 
get off of their clouds, so that we can share them with others as a source of inspiration and motivation. I encourage people to join our efforts of getting down to the ground and creating a community to support each other in this difficult but certainly rewarding 
journey, to help people to the best of our potential.

In this month’s blog post, I want to share with you a personal experience that has influenced my professional and personal way of doing things in a surprising and completely unexpected way. It’s called the Art of Hosting community, and it is simply about facilitation methods that allow people to have meaningful conversations around topics that matter to them. These facilitation techniques — such as the World Cafe, Open Space or Appreciative Enquiry — enable groups of individuals to work together, engage in constructive and in-depth conversations, and find a common solution to issues that are of concern to all of them. The Art of Hosting methods are impressive for their simplicity, because they bring people back to the basic principles of communication, such as active listening, and because they show in a very powerful way the incredible power that human beings can have when they manage to work together.

Art of Hosting techniques are being increasingly used as the new way of leadership and I can certainly see why, since people only own what they have contributed to develop themselves. For me, this is the only way to go about working together.

Highly recommended for any type of meetings, trainings or other events, you won’t regret using these techniques, although you will need to have the courage to try something new.

I was recently confronted with a situation in which I arrived at a training venue thinking, guidedby the responses to the pre-training needs assessment, that I was about to train a group with amedium-to-high level knowledge of the topic at hand. One hour into the training, however, I cameto realise that the level of the knowledge of participants was actually quite low. It was not the firsttime that I was confronted with this situation, which leads me to think that people will tend to over-estimate their ability and knowledge about any given topic. Indeed after many training sessions Ihear participants saying that they have realised that their level of competence was lower than theyhad previously believed.

It is usually only after a training session that people realise the breadth and complexity of the subjectmatter at hand, and become more conscious of their actual abilities and ways in which they candevelop their knowledge and skills. Thus it’s not an uncommon situation for an individual to entera training session with a self-competence rating of 7 out of 10, for instance. As their knowledgeand skills generally improve through the course of the training, so does their understanding andawareness of their true level of competency. After the training session, this same individual may thenself-rate their competency as only slightly higher or even lower than their original rate.

Now I seem to have identified one of the reasons why people often don’t seek to learn more about agiven topic, but still I haven’t managed to figure out how to help people in assessing how much theyreally know about how much they know, or they believe they do. Any ideas?