Process vs. procedure

Some years ago one of my boys worked for hours on a work of art on a computer graphics program. When he tried to print out his masterpiece, however, the color printer spewed out a monochrome facsimile of his creation, very different from how it appeared on the computer screen. Apparently, the ink had run out in my color printer’s ink cartridge. Well, I knew what I had to do, change the dreaded ink cartridge. I understood the process: remove the old cartridge and replace it with a new one, which I did. Unfortunately the only reward I got for my trouble was blinking error lights all over the place. The computer flashed an error message telling me the printer wasn’t working (“Thanks. Tell me something I don’t know!”), and more flashing lights on the printer itself indicating something was wrong—but not telling me exactly what.

I tried removing the cartridge and replacing it again. Turned the printer on and off several times, hit the “reset” button, and anything else I could think of. Nothing worked. Finally, I pulled out the owner’s manual and, feeling like a dummy, followed the printer cartridge replacement instructions step by step. Lo and behold, it worked! My problem of course was that while I understood the process, I had not followed the right procedure. “Procedure must be followed,” as they say.

I’m hearing a lot of talk about process these days. In a way, that’s welcomed. It used to be that I seemed to be one of the few proponents for it in the “process vs. product” debate. On the other hand, like many concepts that trickle down into popular vernacular, the meaning of the term process may become lost in the quagmire of the fuzzy thinking that comes from overuse and over-familiarity. We lose a lot of good words (and ideas) like that. Remember the word paradigm? Good word. Good concept. But we’ve lost it due to overuse. I’ve even heard one person cringe, “If I hear the word “paradigm” one more time I’m going to scream!”

A hint that this may have already happened with process is its current confusion with the term “procedure.” It’s a not-too-subtle distinction, yet the terms often are used interchangeably. And now I cringe and feel like screaming, “Process is NOT procedure!”

The dictionary defines process as “the course of being done; a continuing development involving many changes.” Procedure is defined as “a particular course of action or way of doing something; the established way of carrying on the business….”

“Process n. 1. the course of being done. 2. a continuing development involving many changes.”

“Procedure n. 1. a particular course of action or way of doing something 2. the established way of carrying on the business….”

There’s a subtle but important difference there. To miss it can lead us astray in accomplishing what we need. In teaching, like in many areas, you can fail by understanding the process but not following the procedure. More often than not, however, we follow procedure and mistakenly believe we are giving attention to process. For example, a good teacher understands the teaching-learning process and creates the appropriate procedure for making it happen consistent to the goal at hand. A poor teacher will become a slave to procedure because he or she fails to understand the dynamic process of the art of teaching and the dynamics of learning. Too often, we believe that in creating and following procedures we allow the necessary processes to take place. In the end, you can take all the right steps, and still get it wrong!

The key to understanding the distinction between these two terms is found in a key phrase in the definition given above. In process, we give attention to “a continuing development involving many changes.” Which hints that while procedure is predictable, process is not. Process has to do with the flowing dynamics and forces at play in any endeavor. It leaves wiggle room for the unpredictable. It respects the serendipity of un-factored data, hidden agendas, mysterious forces, queer cosmic convergences, and Murphy’s Law, which says that in any given endeavor, anything that can possibly go wrong, will!

A proper understanding of process helps us see below the surface of the deceptive orderly appearances of lesson plans, timelines, and Gant charts. It accepts that in any endeavor we must be open to changes and challenges because of the unpredictable nature of things which are in a state of “continuing development.” But we can say, “trust the process” because the process will bring us where we need to be—even when we’re not quite sure of where we’ll end up. In my experience, it’s the process that gets you there, not procedure. This shouldn’t surprise us too much, it’s a great theological concept. “Trust the Spirit,” we say when we’ve run out of plans or there are no procedures to follow. “It’s the journey, not the destination,” we often say.

Procedure can tell us how to pack the bags, but it’s the process that let’s us make the journey in a spirit of adventure. Procedure is helpful, even necessary. But it’s just a tool. And tools can become obsolete in the middle of a project that is ever changing, ever evolving, ever growing. Paying attention to process will allow us to switch tools when needed.