The Answer to the Collaboration Crisis Isn’t Another Platform

(This post was originally shared on my LinkedIn Profile.)

Last week I wrote about the research evidence that our obsession with efficiency and technology has eroded the social capital, trust, and genuine collaboration that make organisations actually work. The response told me the article landed somewhere real.

But a diagnosis without a direction isn’t much use. So this week I want to talk about what I believe a genuine response looks like.

It isn’t another tool. It isn’t a workshop. It isn’t a culture deck with better values on it.

It’s a fundamentally different way of thinking about knowledge — one that starts with people rather than platforms, and with meaning rather than metrics.


What conventional KM gets wrong

Most knowledge management programmes are designed to solve an information problem. Information is scattered, so we build a repository. People can’t find what they need, so we improve search. Expertise walks out the door, so we create a capture process.

These are real problems. But they’re symptoms, not causes.

The actual problem — the one the research keeps pointing back to — is that the conditions for knowledge to flow have broken down. Trust has eroded. Networks have shrunk. Cross-boundary relationships have withered. The informal conversations that carry tacit knowledge, the collegial curiosity that generates new thinking, the relational safety that makes people willing to share what they actually know — all of it has been quietly deprioritised in the name of efficiency.

You cannot fix that with a better taxonomy.


A different starting point

Radical Knowledge Management — the framework I’ve been developing and practising for over a decade — begins from a different premise.

Knowledge is not content. Knowledge is human. It is created through experience, shaped by context, and moved through relationship. It lives in people, between people, and in the culture that connects them. Any KM strategy that doesn’t start there is working on the wrong problem.

Radical KM is built on what I call the MAGIC-SH model: seven conditions that together create an environment where knowledge genuinely flows, where people are willing to share what they know, and where organisations develop the kind of collective intelligence that no platform can replicate.

Those conditions are Meaning, Agency, Generosity, Inquiry, Community, Story, and Humanity.

Let me walk through why each one matters in the context of the collaboration crisis.


Meaning

People share knowledge willingly when they understand why it matters. Not because they’ve been told to fill in the knowledge base, but because they can see the connection between what they know, what others need, and the outcome they all care about.

Efficiency culture strips meaning out of work progressively. It reduces contribution to task completion and measures value in outputs. Radical KM inverts this — it starts by building shared understanding of purpose, so that knowledge-sharing becomes an act of contribution rather than compliance.

Agency

Knowledge hoarding is almost never malicious. It’s usually rational. In environments where expertise equals job security, where being the person who knows something is a form of power, people protect what they know.

Agency addresses this by designing for genuine autonomy and contribution. When people have real influence over how their knowledge is used and recognised, the incentive structure flips. Sharing becomes generative rather than threatening.

Generosity

Generous knowledge cultures don’t happen by accident. They are built through modelling, through recognition, and through the deliberate design of spaces — physical, virtual, and cultural — where people are expected and encouraged to give freely of what they know.

This is directly counter to the transactional logic that dominates most organisations, where knowledge exchange is a negotiation and every interaction has an implied cost-benefit calculation behind it.

Inquiry

The collapse of cross-boundary weak ties that the Microsoft research documented is, at its root, a collapse of curiosity. When people work only within their immediate team, they stop asking questions of the wider organisation. They stop being curious about what’s happening elsewhere, what others have learned, what problems are being solved in parallel.

Radical KM designs explicitly for inquiry — creating the conditions, the habits, and the structures that keep curiosity alive across organisational boundaries.

Community

This is where the research evidence and the framework converge most clearly. Social capital is not built through formal programmes. It is built through communities — genuine ones, where people gather around shared interests, shared challenges, or shared expertise, and where the relationships that form outlast any particular project or process.

Communities of practice, done well, are the single most powerful KM intervention available. Not because of the knowledge they capture, but because of the trust they generate.

Story

Data informs. Story moves. The knowledge that organisations most need to retain and transmit — the contextual, experiential, relational knowledge that can’t be fully codified — travels in narrative.

Story is also how culture is sustained and changed. The stories an organisation tells about itself, about what it values, about who its heroes are, shape what knowledge gets shared and what gets suppressed.

Humanity

This is the frame that holds everything else. Knowledge management that forgets it is working with human beings — with people who have emotions, relationships, histories, and needs — will always fall short of what’s possible.

Humanity in KM means designing for the whole person, not just the role. It means recognising that psychological safety is not a HR initiative; it’s a knowledge infrastructure issue. It means understanding that the reason knowledge walks out the door is almost always relational, not technical.


Why this matters now

The organisations that will navigate the next decade well are not the ones with the best AI tools or the most sophisticated knowledge repositories. They are the ones that have invested in the human conditions that make knowledge genuinely flow — trust, relationship, meaning, and community.

The collaboration crisis the research describes is real. But it is not inevitable, and it is not irreversible. What it requires is a different kind of intervention — one that takes human beings seriously as the infrastructure of organisational intelligence.

That’s what Radical Knowledge Management is designed to do.

We Didn’t Lose Productivity. We Lost Each Other.

(The post was originally shared on my LinkedIn Profile.)

There’s a feeling many of us carry into work that’s hard to name. A sense that despite the tools, the platforms, the dashboards, and the metrics — something fundamental has gone missing. That we’re busier than ever, but less effective. That we collaborate more and connect less.

The research says we’re right.


The social capital haemorrhage

McKinsey surveyed over 5,500 workers on the state of their workplace networks. What they found was striking: more than three-quarters reported connecting with others less frequently, maintaining smaller networks, and spending less time building relationships than before.

But here’s the detail that matters. Of the connections people still maintain, 57% are for sharing work-related information. 48% for career advice. Only 29% involve any kind of genuine social engagement.

What passes for collaboration in most organisations has become almost entirely transactional. Information exchange has replaced relationship. Efficiency has displaced trust.

And trust, it turns out, is not optional. Research consistently finds that mutual trust, reciprocity, and genuine collegial connection are among the strongest predictors of innovation, knowledge-sharing, and organisational effectiveness.


The silos aren’t a bug. They’re a feature of how we work now.

The most compelling evidence here comes from a 2022 Nature Human Behaviour study of over 61,000 Microsoft employees. When the company shifted to firm-wide remote work, something happened to its collaboration networks: they became static and siloed, with fewer bridges between different parts of the organisation.

The share of collaboration time employees spent with cross-group connections dropped by 25%.

This matters because of what those cross-group connections do. Sociologist Mark Granovetter called them “weak ties” — the loose connections across different teams, functions, and disciplines. They’re not where your most frequent interactions happen. But they’re where new knowledge comes from. They’re the connections that carry different perspectives, unexpected information, and creative friction.

We optimised them out of existence.


High productivity is masking exhaustion

Here’s the dangerous part: standard metrics often won’t show you this is happening.

Microsoft’s Work Trend Index, covering 31,000 workers across 31 countries, flagged it explicitly: high productivity is masking an exhausted workforce, and shrinking networks are endangering innovation.

A separate study of over 10,000 technology professionals found that after the shift to remote work, hours worked went up, output declined slightly, and productivity fell by 8–19%. More meetings. More messages. More coordination activity. Less actual work done.

More activity. Less capability.


This is what efficiency culture does

This didn’t happen by accident. It’s the predictable outcome of decades of management doctrine that treats organisations primarily as efficiency machines — measuring outputs, eliminating waste, standardising process, and optimising everything that can be quantified.

The problem is that genuine collaboration, learning, trust, and tacit knowledge are hard to quantify. So they don’t show up on the efficiency scorecard. And what doesn’t show up on the scorecard doesn’t get invested in.

UK government research on organisational effectiveness puts it plainly: the literature points to the failures of managerialism and market mechanisms to address complex challenges — and argues that those very challenges require genuine collaboration and inter-organisational cooperation to solve.

We’ve built management systems that are structurally antagonistic to the capabilities we actually need.


What this means for knowledge management

I’ve been making this argument for a long time: knowledge is not a technology problem.

Knowledge lives in relationships. It moves through trust. It surfaces in the informal conversation after the meeting ends, the cross-team question that no one put on a ticket, the senior person who explains the context behind the decision.

None of that is produced by a better platform. All of it depends on social capital — the networks, norms, and trust between people that make knowledge genuinely flow.

And the evidence is clear: that social capital has been eroding, quietly, for years. Not because people stopped caring, but because the conditions for building it have been systematically deprioritised in the name of efficiency.

Knowledge doesn’t walk out the door because of inadequate tooling. It walks out because the human infrastructure that carries it was allowed to decay.


The good news is that this is reversible. But it requires treating human connection, relational trust, and genuine collaboration as strategic organisational assets — not as pleasant by-products of getting the processes right.

Because they’re not by-products. They’re the foundation.


References available on request. Key sources include Yang et al. (2022), Nature Human Behaviour; McKinsey Quarterly (2022); Microsoft Work Trend Index (2021); Gibbs, Mengel & Siemroth (2022), Journal of Political Economy Microeconomics.

Your Organisation Has a Knowledge Management Problem. It Just Doesn’t Know It Yet

(This post originally appeared on my LinkedIn Profile.)

Ask most people what Knowledge Management means and they’ll mention a chatbot. Or a FAQ database. Or the system the contact centre uses to answer customer calls faster.

They’re not wrong. That is KM. But it’s one room in a very large house.

And while everyone’s focused on that room, the rest of the house is quietly falling apart.

The contact centre problem

Contact centre KM is visible. It has vendors. It has metrics. It has a clear ROI story — faster handle times, fewer escalations, happier customers. There are software platforms built specifically for it. Conferences dedicated to it. Entire consulting practices around it.

So when organisations say “we have KM,” they often mean “we have a tool that helps agents answer questions.”

That’s not KM strategy. That’s knowledge delivery at one endpoint.

What’s happening everywhere else

While the contact centre is meticulously managed, here’s what’s happening in the same organisation:

A senior leader retires and takes twenty years of institutional memory with them. Nobody captured it. Nobody thought to.

A project team spends three weeks solving a problem that another team solved eighteen months ago. The solution existed. It just wasn’t findable.

A proposal goes out with assumptions that contradict positions taken on a previous engagement. The left hand didn’t know what the right hand had written.

A new hire takes six months to reach full productivity because the knowledge they need lives in people’s heads, not in any system.

None of this shows up in a contact centre dashboard. All of it is a knowledge management failure.

The invisible KM problem

Contact centre KM is visible KM. It has a home, a budget, and a team accountable for it.

Everything else is invisible KM — the organisational knowledge that lives in people, relationships, past work, and institutional memory. It has no home. No owner. No metrics. And so, no urgency.

Until someone leaves. Until a bid is lost. Until a mistake is repeated. Until the organisation realises it keeps reinventing the wheel because nobody was minding the wheel.

KM is a whole-organisation discipline

The international standard for KM — ISO 30401 — doesn’t mention contact centres. It talks about strategy, culture, learning, leadership, and governance. It defines KM as a management discipline that helps organisations create, retain, share, and apply knowledge to achieve their objectives.

APQC, one of the most respected research bodies in the field, frames KM across five pillars: strategy, process, content, culture, and technology. Technology is one pillar. The contact centre sits inside technology. That’s a lot of building left unattended.

The questions that reveal the real problem

You don’t need a formal audit to see where your organisation’s invisible KM is failing. Just ask:

  • What happens when your most experienced person walks out the door?
  • How long does it take a new hire to become genuinely productive?
  • How do you capture what worked — and what didn’t — at the end of a major project?
  • Can you find your organisation’s best thinking on any given topic in under five minutes?
  • Do your teams build on each other’s work, or do they start from scratch every time?

If those questions make people uncomfortable, that’s not a contact centre problem. That’s a knowledge strategy problem.

What to do about it

Start by separating the tool from the discipline. Contact centre software is a tool. KM is a discipline that applies across every part of an organisation — from how you onboard people to how you run retrospectives to how you capture competitive intelligence to how you make expert knowledge accessible to everyone who needs it.

Then look at where knowledge is genuinely at risk. Who are your critical knowledge holders? What happens when they leave? Where does important knowledge live that isn’t written down anywhere?

You don’t need a massive programme to start. You need someone asking the right questions. And you need leadership that understands that knowledge isn’t just a contact centre asset — it’s the organisation’s most valuable and most under protected resource.

The contact centre KM is working fine. That’s not the problem.

The problem is the illusion of coverage it creates. The belief that because one type of knowledge is well-managed, the rest is too.

It isn’t. And the cost of that gap shows up slowly — in turnover, in repeated mistakes, in lost bids, in the quiet erosion of things that once worked.

KM done well is invisible too. You notice it in how fast people find what they need. In how smoothly transitions happen. In how teams learn from each other rather than around each other.

That kind of KM doesn’t live in a single tool. It lives in how an organisation thinks about what it knows — and what it can’t afford to lose.