In today’s post, I would like to explore the question, “When is a system?” and reflect on how cybernetics invites us to think differently about systems. This shift in phrasing may seem minor, but it opens up a deeper understanding of what we are truly doing when we speak of systems.

The Cybernetic Shift:

Cybernetics offers a different path. Rather than asking, “What is a system?”, it invites us to ask, “When is a system?” As a student of Cybernetics, I came across Herbert Brün’s question, “When is Cybernetics?”. He was challenging the obsession with an observer devoid pursuit of knowledge. When we ask “What is..” questions, we are focusing on reification. As Paul Pangaro notes^[1]:

Let me show this by first asking the question, ‘What is a rock?’ The question as phrased and by its nature implies that rocks exist and that they can be known and defined. This existence stands on its own to such an extent that an answer can be given, ‘A rock is — dot dot dot’; and this description is given as independent of time, context, and observer. The act of providing an answer is to buy into the position that there is a reality that can be expressed in this independence.

Of course the reality is in one sense in the description, not any ‘object itself.’ We do invest in the description as a thing, an ‘objectification’ that exists on its own, which is what we call knowledge. The contribution of personal experience is lost or elided. What is left is the dead description, devoid of a maker and the context and purpose in which it is made.

This change in perspective alters everything. It reminds us that systems are not found in the world as pre-existing objects. They are drawn into being. They do not exist without a point of view, without a purpose, and without a participant. A system is not discovered; it is declared. It does not precede our involvement. Instead, it arises with it.

Consider a simple example: When is healthcare a system? For a hospital administrator, healthcare becomes a system when she tracks patient flow, bed occupancy, and discharge rates. For a public health researcher, healthcare becomes a system when he maps disease patterns, social determinants, and community interventions. For a patient with chronic illness, it becomes a system when they navigate insurance approvals, specialist referrals, and medication management. The same collection of clinics, professionals, and treatments becomes different systems depending on who is looking and why.

Beyond Fixed Definitions:

In this way, cybernetics is not about systems as fixed or definable things. It is about how we observe, how we construct, and how we participate in interrelated processes. As Paul Pangaro explained, the “What is …?” question leads us into traps. When we ask “What is a rock?” we imply that rocks exist independently and can be known and defined outside of time, context, and observer. This creates a “dead description, devoid of a maker and the context and purpose in which it is made.” The act of asking “What is…?” itself creates an investment in notions of absolute reality that cybernetics seeks to question.

Cybernetics is better understood as a way of thinking rather than a field of things. Herbert Brün’s insight, substitute “When is…?” for “What is…?”, captures the essence of the cybernetic act: taking an apparent absolute and providing necessities for taking it as a relative. This shift makes the relativity of knowing explicit, relativity that exists as a function of ever different contexts: time, the observer, purpose. Cybernetics draws our attention to the fact that observation changes what is observed. Descriptions are never neutral. They arise from somewhere and from someone. Meaning does not reside in isolation. It arises through interaction.

The Moment of System-Drawing:

This is why the question “When is a system?” is important. It makes visible the choices we make when we describe a situation as systemic. It pushes us to be aware of our own cognitive blind spots and promotes epistemic humility. It reminds us that the context, including who is asking, when, and for what purpose, decisively shapes what we call “the system.”

As Herbert Brün emphasized:^[1]

The by far most important, most significant context, overriding in power every other[,] even ever[-]so-blatantly[-]perceivable context, the context decisive in the beginning and in the end, in the speaker and in the receiver, the context which gives its meaning to a statement, the context in which a statement is most undebatably made, is that context which we call “The person who makes the statement.” And let the period after the quotation mark be legal. For to be quoted is not my statement but “The person who makes the statement” and the context he is, not I make.

Systems come into being when we draw boundaries. They begin to make sense when we ask certain questions. They become stable or unstable, depending on who is involved and what they are trying to do.

This insight was central to the work of C. West Churchman, who reminded us that the systems approach begins when one is open to see the world through another’s eyes. This does not mean agreement. It means recognizing that what we call “the system” already reflects a point of view. What seems essential to me may seem irrelevant to you. What I include, you may exclude.

We are recognizing the observer dependent quality of systems, noting that different observers of the same phenomena might conceptualize them into different systems entirely. For one person, a transportation system may refer to trains, roads, and schedules: the physical infrastructure that moves people from point A to point B. For another, it may refer to access, fairness, and opportunity: who can get where, when, and at what cost. For yet another, it may mean emissions, energy use, and ecological impact. “The” system is not one thing. It is always many, depending on how one looks.

The Ethical Dimension:

This orientation opens an ethical space. Cybernetics, epecially second order cybernetics, teaches us that we do not stand outside the world we describe. We bring forth a world through our living, through our speaking, and through our caring. Werner Ulrich took this further by asking us to consider who gets excluded when a system is drawn. The question is not only “What is the system?” or “When is the system?” It is also “Who decides?” and “Who is left out?”

When a city planning department draws the boundaries of a “transportation system” around roads and parking meters, they may inadvertently exclude sidewalks, bike lanes, and public transit, effectively marginalizing pedestrians, cyclists, and those who cannot afford cars. When a hospital defines its “patient care system” in terms of clinical procedures and bed management, it might exclude the experiences of family members, community health workers, or the social determinants that brought patients there in the first place.

To declare a system is to draw a boundary. To draw a boundary is to make a choice. With that choice comes responsibility. Cybernetics is not simply a science of regulation or control. It is a reflection on participation and perspective. It is a reminder that the observer is always part of what is observed.

Final Words:

So when is a system?

A system is whenever someone chooses to see one. It is when relationships are noticed, when patterns are made meaningful, when intentions begin to shape perception. It is not a thing in the world. It is an event in understanding.

To speak of systems, then, is to accept the weight of that declaration. It is to notice that every system includes and excludes. It frames some possibilities and hides others. Cybernetics does not eliminate this fact. It simply asks us to be honest about it.

This awareness changes how we approach systems work. Instead of searching for the “right” system, we might ask: What system-drawing serves our purposes? Whose perspectives are we including or excluding? What becomes visible when we draw the boundaries here rather than there? How might our system-drawing empower or marginalize different groups?

We may never define a system in final terms. But we can choose to be thoughtful in how and when we draw them. We can remain attentive to the ethical and practical consequences of those drawings. And we can remember that every system boundary is a hypothesis about what matters, one that can be questioned, revised, and redrawn as our understanding deepens.

I will finish with a quote from West Churchman that provides further food for thought:

The problem of systems improvement is the problem of the ‘ethics of the whole system’.

Always keep learning…

[1] New Order from Old: The Rise of Second-Order Cybernetics and Implications for Machine Intelligence. A Play in 25 Turns – Paul Pangaro, 1988