When I use the word “agile” in German, I see a rock climber attempting a steep wall. A woman with a long pole crossing a tightrope stretched over a deep gorge. A mountain biker racing down a steep descent with narrow trails, sharp rocks and angular roots.
When I think of the A-word, I think of people who have a goal. The path there is riddled with uncertainty and unknown challenges. My agile people radiate curiosity, adventurous spirit and joy of life. They resolve tension playfully and without frenzy.
I know people who understand “agile” differently. For them it means “flexible”. They see it this way: whoever is agile must also be flexible, because you can’t prepare for an unknown future — everything is new and different here in the now. You have to adapt agilely to that, be flexible, right?
Sure, agility requires flexibility. Without it, nothing works. When you can’t move forward, you must be flexible enough to abandon your chosen path and try something new. But for me the word has an unpleasant aftertaste.
Sometimes flexibility gets ordered from above. “We need to do this faster, make do with less — just be flexible!” Behind this often hides a lazy compromise. The climber should be flexible and not climb all the way up. The tightrope walker should be flexible and get picked up by helicopter. The mountain biker should dismount and walk the rest of the way down to the valley.
Anyone wanting to be agile must be flexible. But flexible people aren’t necessarily agile. You can be flexible and stand for nothing. Like a pennant in the wind.
Agile is something different: you don’t know exactly where you’re going yet, but you move agilely step by step toward a goal that can change along the way (not arbitrarily flexible). You feel your way forward like on an icy lake. Very carefully you test with your toes whether you can take the next step, whether the ice surface will hold you.
Many people throw the words “agile”, “flexible” and “spontaneous” into the same linguistic pot. Words matter to me — I’m always searching for the best word to describe a situation or feeling. Before my little adventure into the agile world, I didn’t see much difference between these words either. But now I’m slowly understanding the nuances. Being agile requires flexibility. Being flexible doesn’t make you agile.
Next time, ask what your conversation partner means by “agile”. It’ll probably spark an interesting discussion.
This post first appeared in German on reinergaertner.de, where I’ve been writing since 1997 — back when the internet still had that new-car smell. An AI assistant helped with the translation under my supervision. If something reads a bit odd, blame the Denglish in my head.