A nne Kirkpatrick, watch your back. They don’t make protective vests for what you are about to confront.

If the past year of studying for my MBA has convinced me of one truism, it is that everything you see in an organization means something. From the physical layout of the offices to the way staff members interact with each other, each clue tells you something about an organization’s culture and values.

One particular type of organization stands out when you read cultural behaviors, because it tries to hide the very clues that betray it. Addictive organizations get their name from acting like a human addict. Addictive organizations thrive on denial, and develop systems that support their insular, closed and destructive behavior.

They deny a problem exists and attack anybody who says otherwise. People who try to change the addictive organization are often demonized, scapegoated and marginalized. That’s only if they remain; generally; they are run off.

The addictive organization holds particular interest for me because I’ve worked in a few in my career. Spokane seems to have its share of addictive organizations, veritable Petri dishes of dysfunction for a grad student looking for research topics.

As I studied recent work environments of my own, I was reminded of the Spokane Police Department. Full of sincere and well-meaning people, the culture and values nonetheless produce dissonant and destructive behaviors.

In studying why and how such organizations could become blind to their own foibles – and lash out at anybody who dares point them out – I found some research that rings true about the Spokane Police Department.

Recent headlines about the SPD line up remarkably with the research literature on addictive organizations. Addictive organizations are marked by self-centeredness. They hold a simplistic view of the world: you are either for them or against them. It is always about them – unless you are one of them, you don’t understand them, you don’t appreciate how unique they are, you are a “bad” guy or critic, ad infinitum, ad nauseam.

Other common symptoms of addictive organizations include their inability to admit mistakes, and their tendency to move from crisis to crisis. Sound familiar?

Chief Kirkpatrick has only four choices with her newly acquired addict. If she really cares about the SPD, her field of choice becomes narrower.

Option one: She can ignore the problem and become one of the silent enablers. (That is not why Mayor Dennis Hession and Spokane citizens hired her.)

Option two: She can embrace the addictive behavior and deny there is a problem. (While this offers job security, it is not the mark of a leader who cares about the organization.)

Option three: She can try to change SPD. A fight will ensue and she could join Alan Chertok on a bus out of town. (If you pause and listen closely right now, you can hear some SPD members howling that I “don’t know all the facts” about Chertok. That reaction is to be expected from an addictive organization.)

Option four: She can walk away. (This is good for her health, but it does nothing for the addict. In fact, most addicts gloat over their “win” when they run off a “foe.” Reality never impinges on their distorted lens on the world.)

The next months will be interesting for Spokane. We will either see little change and a new beloved chief, or we will see attempts at change and some very happy reporters and newspaper columnists.

Godspeed, Chief Kirkpatrick.