McGuyver in the office

Why Levi Strauss is right on the concept of learning in the workplace.

Overall thought: To paraphrase Lévi-Strauss, knowledge production (whether in a remote tribe or a city skyscraper) is always logical, rich, and evolving. Interns embody that evolutionary spark we have all inside of us.

So let them roam around your office or workplace. Let them build new myths. Let them salvage ideas from wherever they can. Before you know it, you’ll look around and realize you’ve cultivated a vibrant (and wildly effective) learning environment.

Interns stroll into your office like Luke Skywalker stumbling onto the Jedi training grounds at Tython. Enthusiastic, ambitious, and by and large totally clueless about the real workings of things. Suddenly you find yourself playing Yoda in a suit or workers boots or, more realistically, Yoda in casual Friday clothes. A funny situation, isn't it?

Yesterday is was reminded of a little book by Claude Lévi-Strauss from I think 1962 called La Pensée Sauvage. I stumbled upon an interview recently with the Dutch architect Herman Hertzberger. Hertzberger mentioned how deeply Lévi-Strauss’s ideas influenced his approach to architecture.

I once tried to read this little book myself.

Well, "tried" ; I started it years ago in a dusty corner of a university library while avoiding writing a paper on medieval books of penance (yes, I studied that. Sue me).

Didn't finish it, obviously.

Paper was ok.

But even that half-hearted attempt stuck with me. Lévi-Strauss had some compelling ideas about how humans think, and how we create meaning from whatever's around us that helped me organize my thinking on how we as humans behave in the workplace.

Lévi-Strauss describes two kinds of thinkers: the engineer and the bricoleur. Engineers plan meticulously; like NASA preparing to launch a rocket. They gather exactly what they need beforehand.

Bricoleurs, on the other hand, improvise, like MacGyver fixing a plane engine with chewing gum while in flight. It sounds silly at first, but when you look closer, it’s actually quite accurate. We professionals rarely perfect planners; most of us are MacGyvers.

We say we plan and stuff, but most of the time it’s just rolling with the tide, improvising our way out, using whatever our tools are as chewing gum.

Interns are classic MacGyvers: They piece their knowledge together from scraps; casual conversations by the coffee machine, snippets overheard in hallways, cryptic Slack messages that need to be decyphered over time, and hastily scrawled notes in meetings they don’t fully understand but keep nodding to avoid humiliation by asking dumb questions (which never is the case, but hey, you know the feeling) . They gather these bits and pieces to build their understanding of your company, almost unconsciously. According to Lévi-Strauss, this is exactly how humans create meaning: not through neatly structured manuals, but by improvising with whatever's handy.

Strauss also spoke about myths, but not myths in the sense of fairy tales or superheroes. He saw myths as structured ways people use to make sense of the world. Offices have myths, too. You know them: "Don’t challenge the boss openly," "Always appear busy," or "Never admit you don’t understand."

Interns quickly detect these invisible rules and incorporate them into their own narrative. After that they build their own myths about whether they belong or if they're just temporary visitors.

Interestingly, Lévi-Strauss emphasized there’s no hierarchy between scientific thinking and intuitive, improvised thinking.

Herman Hertzberger mentioned exactly this insight from Lévi-Strauss as influential in his architecture. Hertzberger’s buildings are based on that idea. They invite improvisation: open spaces that people shape in their own way. He embraced the idea that good design isn't rigid; it allows for wild, intuitive silly creativity. This idea aligns perfectly with internships: good internships aren't rigid assembly lines in an education factory.

They’re more like Hertzberger’s buildings; open, messy, and adaptable, inviting interns to experiment. Let them make mistakes, ask awkward questions, and poke at the logic of your systems. Give them a metaphorical lightsaber, let them swing it around a bit. It’s the only way they truly learn.

What Lévi-Strauss teaches us in La Pensee (something Hertzberger understood) is that humans learn and innovate best in environments that allow improvisation. Internships thrive when you ditch excessive structure in favor of openness, curiosity, and genuine interaction.

It's not about ticking off checklists or neatly printed onboarding booklets. Interns remember moments where they felt genuinely involved, appreciated, and welcome. They construct stories myths, as Lévi-Strauss would say, about your workplace. If these myths are positive, you've succeeded. If not, no formal structure or perfect onboarding manual will save you.

Maybe it’s time we took Lévi-Strauss—and Herman Hertzberger—a bit more seriously in how we approach interns. Perhaps internships shouldn’t be treated as neatly planned NASA launches, but more like MacGyver episodes: improvised, surprising, creative, and slightly chaotic. They need to chew on their own story, to keep the chewing gum metaphor. Not only will interns benefit from that, but your workplace myths will also become richer, more adaptable, and (just possibly) more human.