Liminality

We are in a period of transition. As with any major change, we have to let go of what is familiar without knowing exactly what the future holds. This is a confusing betwixt-and-between time, when things are neither what they were, nor what they will become. Anthropologists call such between-times liminality. They are the messy middle of change. Jitske Kramer wrote the book about it: Tricky Times.

Liminality is an instrumental concept that for too long has been sitting in the wings of the academic world. Though still unfamiliar to many, it can help us to understand and navigate confusing times. Liminality is about something as simple as it is universal. It is about the experience of coming up against a boundary, of finding yourself between two boundaries or of having no idea where the boundaries even are. Betwixt and between. Be it in space, in time or in the bigger story. It can feel infinitely liberating when boundaries fall away, freeing up energy and creativity. But it can also feel scary, leaving you uncertain and longing for calm and clarity. Liminality is about how we, as humans, have learnt to shape and structure extraordinary experiences in such a way that we come out of them transformed.

Liminality: an essential stage of transformation - Jitske Kramer

Three stages of transformation

Anthropology shows that processes of transformation are experienced in much the same way by people all over the world, unfolding according to three successive stages. The same basic stages play out during changes at the personal, organisational and societal level. Each has particular rituals that mark and ease the transition from one stage to the next. Though always unique, all cultural patterns are underpinned by deeply human patterns, because human is what we are. 

The separation stage is where we leave the old behind. The first step is acknowledging that things cannot go on as they are, followed by grief and a power vacuum. Because: what will the new situation look like, how will contracts (agreements) and earnings (rewards) be allocated, and who gets to have the final say? This ushers in the next stage, a stage of uncertainty known as liminality. This is a transitional period of trying to work out what will be ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ in the new situation. Of searching for new ways, new stories and cultural solutions. It is a creative stage that, if all goes well, leads to an integration stage. Integration is about applying what we learned in the transitional stage to the new reality. We have to make choices to change how we do things for good, put new ideas into practice and flesh them out in new procedures, laws and methods.

Do we join the traffic jam again? Or do we use this crisis to ask ourselves fundamentally different questions and make other things important?

Liminality: the messy middle of change

The word ‘liminal’ comes from the Latin limes, meaning ‘threshold’ or ‘boundary’, which also gives us the English word ‘limit’. Liminality is a fluid in-between state in which the usual constraints on behaviour and thinking are relaxed to make room for imagination, renewal and destruction. It offers a space in which to discover new desires and possibilities. It is a betwixt-and-between space; between A and B, between this and that, between the no longer and the not yet. The space between stories. It is a time out of time in which what was is gone and what will be is still unknown. And a transitional time when people (or nations, or organisations) have no defined social role or position. Authority of any kind is questioned, power undermined, long-held rights overturned, established norms struck down and sacred truths and symbols mocked. It is an incredibly vulnerable time and very challenging for all those experiencing it. 

Liminality makes our emotions go all over the place. On the one hand, it feels infinitely liberating when old boundaries and constructs fall away, unleashing a rush of energy, creativity and innovation. On the other, it feels peculiarly disorienting to have certainties pulled out from under you. Nothing seems to really matter anymore, yet everything feels hugely consequential. Our collective sense of meaning dissolves and we feel a looming threat of imploding or exploding forces. Thoughts and opinions circle in a kind of vacuum with no anchors to guide us about aesthetics (what is beautiful and what is ugly), norms (what is right and what is wrong) or reality (what is true and what is false). These feelings may not be pleasant, but they are very human and normal. Liminality offers opportunities to break with old cultural habits and entrenched privileges. But seizing them takes courage and leadership.

Change is not a problem to be solved

Change is not a problem to be solved, but an integral part of life. The path we walk is really a succession of all kinds of transformations and rites of passage, both big and small. They form the core and the throughline of our lives. These transitions also always unfold according to a fixed pattern. It may seem chaotic to the linear mind, but in fact it’s not. Within the apparent chaos, there are distinct patterns in how people experience and structure transitions.

We all live with liminality. Without it, everything would stagnate. Human life is made up of a succession of routines and habits, but also of all kinds of chance and unexpected events that put us in situations that are out of the ordinary, or even extraordinary. These are the moments that make you who you are, that shape your character and bring renewal.

Liminaliteit in beeld

Opportunities of liminality

Liminality offers untold opportunities. The temporary loosening of social constructs and hierarchies makes it easier to analyse beyond the here and now. It opens up space for self-exploration, to let emotions flow freely and to shape new realities. When we traverse a liminal space together, it forges a special bond and a profound, at times spiritual kinship. Shared liminality kindles a sense of community, of communitas. It puts us in touch with nature, with place and time. But, to experience and tap these positive dimensions, we also have to navigate through the risks of liminality. Risks in the form of temptations that threaten to derail the crucial transformation.

Power struggle

It can be difficult enough to get everyone to agree that a change is needed, let alone on what the change should be. Meanwhile, some people have a lot to lose (status, money, position), while others have much to gain. This can make people distrustful of leadership and question authority just when we need clear leadership and guidance above all. Yet it’s understandable too, because those in leadership often have a vested interest how things are now and are unlikely to want to make a leap into change.

We zitten op allerlei terreinen
in een overgangsfase.

Nostalgic longing

Characteristic of liminality are a nostalgic longing for the past (or a romanticised version of it) and a power struggle over who will be dealt the best hand. We are no longer at A, but still far from B, and the journey is emotionally charged and contentious. Without a clear and well-managed separation from the old, there will be ongoing resistance. Liminality is an uncomfortable and at times scary place that we would rather sidestep or skip entirely. Avoid it long enough, and the simmering tensions and problems will only get worse.

Leadership during liminality

In liminal situations, all the usual frameworks, habits and skills of workaday life no longer suffice. In extraordinary situations, you need extraordinary methods. The question during liminality is always: who will guide us through this chaos? Life is full of transitions. Day turns into night. We get sick and fortunately often get better. But sometimes not. We fall in love and back out of it. There are so many things we have no control over and the best we can do is try to get through them in a meaningful way. We go through all kinds of transitions, not only individually, but as groups and whole societies. In our fear of change, we do our best to manage, predict, prepare and plan for every eventuality. But the secret to changing is to get comfortable with the process of change itself. Sticking to what you planned lets you feel decisive and in control, but it’s also exhausting. The moment you give in to the situation, you begin feeling all the emotions buried beneath the hard work.

Anthropology teaches us that, without good liminal leadership, ‘tricksters’ and opportunists are likely to step into the breach: people who wield tricky logic and tactics and promise things we want to hear but that they can’t possibly deliver. Populists, for example. Clever consultants. Tech gurus peddling gadgets we all too eagerly snap up. With a bit of bad luck, these tricksters can mobilise online troll armies to wreak havoc and fuel chaos to serve their own ends. The trickster is a hugely important archetype that we can’t do without. But too many tricksters is a recipe for insanity, especially if bad actors use tricky tactics for their own gain.

Five dangers of liminality

Liminality brings many opportunities for improvement and innovation, but also dangers. Here are five.

If we fail to fully break with old habits and lack the courage to make new choices, we wind up stuck, in limbo. We realise we ought to make a change, but can’t. Our inability to address structural problems creates ongoing uncertainty and stress.

There is another reason we are stuck in liminality. By building our society around an unbounded value (fixation on infinite economic growth), we are endorsing unchecked behaviour and have embedded the continual bending of boundaries in our culture. The sky is the limit. Fake it till you make it. But in a finite world we’ll come crashing down sooner or later, when the Earth and humanity are spent.

Given a choice, we all sidestep the pain of change. We prefer to keep things fun and inspirational. Like experience junkies, we want to feel the rush of the electrifying experience without the pain that comes with real change. We’re all talk and not much action. We fill the void we feel with adrenaline, comfort food and other substances, leaving underlying problems to fester.

When long-held ideas about right and wrong, good and bad, true and false come into question, it’s hard to know who or what to believe. It can make your head spin. Emotions, behaviours and narratives are contagious. We’re tempted to believe in outlandish explanations and new divisions. If there’s no clear story, we’ll make one up.

Trickster logic frees us from old ideas, shakes things up and makes room for something new. Playing with boundaries and conventions challenges us to think about what we want to uphold, and what we don’t. But tricksters also love nothing better than to play at the boundary between fact and fiction, with the risk that playing a game with words and images becomes more important than conveying facts and issues. And that’s tricky. The biggest danger comes not from people who display trickster behaviour, but from people who are too easily swayed by half-truths, false promises and outright lies. Which is most of us.

With any fundamental change come shifts in power. Those power shifts can give rise to fierce and even violent struggles over who gets to set the new course and who bears the heaviest burdens of change. For there to be a peaceful transition to a new situation, those in charge must be willing to change as well. But that’s not easy when they have a vested interest in preserving the status quo.

We are living in tricky times

Sadly, the dangers of liminality are a good business model for many organisations and politicians. If we are to transform, we have to look into the mirror. To shake off lies. Break with old patterns. Connect instead of divide. To question. And to listen. To doubt. And to choose. With leaders who can hold space and navigate this emotional process. Those who fail will be toppled. 

During liminality we are what I call culturally lost. Cultures do not appear out of thin air. People shape cultures. Cultures shape people. Together we make the world.

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