<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><xml><records><record><source-app name="HighWire" version="7.x">Drupal-HighWire</source-app><ref-type name="Journal Article">17</ref-type><contributors><authors><author><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">Willis, James</style></author></authors><secondary-authors></secondary-authors></contributors><titles><title><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">MOLWA</style></title><secondary-title><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">British Journal of General Practice</style></secondary-title></titles><dates><year><style  face="normal" font="default" size="100%">2005</style></year><pub-dates><date><style  face="normal" font="default" size="100%">2005-09-01 00:00:00</style></date></pub-dates></dates><pages><style  face="normal" font="default" size="100%">728-728</style></pages><volume><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">55</style></volume><issue><style face="normal" font="default" size="100%">518</style></issue><abstract><style  face="normal" font="default" size="100%">It seems unlikely that there has ever been a civilisation that lasted long on a policy of constant change. I'm not talking about the ones that went absurdly to the opposite extreme: the ancient Egyptians, for example, whose depictions of the human form were governed by a bizarre formula that remained unchanged for an almost unbelievable 4000 years. We don't want that. But it is almost as bizarre that our own society has made a fetish of change and built into its systems a powerful bias towards radicalism as an end in itself. ‘Managing change’ has become a discipline in its own right, whose practitioners (dare I call them priests) display an arrogant contempt for consolidation and gradual evolution from tradition, processes that …</style></abstract></record></records></xml>