Do I have what it takes?

UNNATURAL SELECTION II
Walter Humes endures a management course
and is found wanting

The front cover of FHM – an essential part of any leadership programme. Our correspondent took the Radio Times instead

I recently had to attend a management course that was designed to transform me from the tired old has-been that I am into a thrusting, entrepreneurial leader. Rather a tall order, you might think – and you would be right. I'm afraid I got off to a bad start. We were all asked to introduce ourselves and to say what our needs were and what we hoped to get out of the course. I said that my principal need was retirement planning and that I hoped to get some material for my writing, since I had previously published critical articles on management theory and practice. I could have developed this into an extended rant about the pretensions of management studies as an academic discipline but I decided to hold fire meantime. The presenter moved swiftly on to the next member of the course, no doubt earmarking me as a potential troublemaker.
     There were, in fact, two presenters, whom I shall call Dick and Doc to protect the guilty. Dick was tall, slim and trendy and had an endlessly enthusiastic style of address. Doc had a quieter, more scholarly manner, but it soon became evident that there were avenues he was not prepared to explore if they diverted him from the greater corporate task he had been assigned. This could be summed up as a mission to get the course members to take on increased responsibility without a corresponding increase in power (or salary).
     It turned out that my fellow course members were rather a stroppy bunch, at least to begin with. Naturally I showed absolutely no leadership qualities in impelling things in this direction. Instead of getting straight into the tasks that had been planned for us, the people present wanted to ask a series of more fundamental questions about the reasons for the new roles we were expected to assume, and suggested that senior management should be present to enable meaningful dialogue to take place. In other words, there was still a 'hearts and minds' job to be done. I almost began to feel sorry for Dick and Doc as it appeared that they had been sent on 'mission impossible'. But clearly they had encountered opposition before and, without losing their cool, gradually steered the programme back to their prepared agenda. After a time, some of the most vocal critics lapsed into a state of catatonic stupor.
    
We were, of course, given a number of exercises, many of which told us nothing new. For example, I think I was aware by the time I reached adolescence that I was more introvert than extrovert, that I preferred words to numbers, and that I had perfectionist tendencies that often led to disappointment as I failed to live up to my own standards. We were presented with a series of models based on popular psychology and the pseudo-science of management which purported to explain how people behaved in organisations. My suggestion that you learn more about human motivation in social contexts by reading lots of good literature was not well received.
     However, there was one exercise which I thoroughly enjoyed. We had all been asked to bring along three magazines. I toyed with the idea of buying three 'top shelf' magazines especially for the occasion. However, quite apart from the potential embarrassment of encountering one of my students serving at the pay desk, I realised that this could easily cause offence to women on the course and so I contented myself with a car magazine, Private Eye and Radio Times. We were asked to use illustrations from the magazines to construct a story of the next five years of our organisation. Within the group to which I was assigned, I secured agreement that we should use the pictures to construct two narratives: one a positive, upbeat 'feel good' account of the kind that was clearly expected, and one (featuring car crashes, police surveillance and mental illness) conveying a less rosy scenario. I explained to the presenters that we were adopting a 'postmodernist' perspective, which allows for alternative constructions of meaning. Those who inhabit the world of 'rational' management seek certainty rather than ambiguity and thus, once again, my contribution was passed over quickly.
     My sceptical observations may seem to suggest that I am hostile to all forms of management. That is not the case. In my career, I have held a number of challenging management responsibilities, often working with extremely able, and sometimes quite difficult, colleagues. I learned, principally through experience, but also from the advice of others whose judgement I respected, that getting the best out of people (which is not the same as getting the most out of them) involves a number of simple principles: having a clear sense of purpose; being willing to listen; treating people fairly; giving them scope to show their talents; being supportive when things are tough; addressing hard issues directly; and setting a good example of the professional standards others are expected to follow. You don't need an expensive management course to understand the importance of these skills.
     There was one word that was absent from the entire proceedings. The value of humour in fostering good relationships and motivating people did not receive a single mention. I suspect both Dick and Doc had had the humour bypass operations which are now part of the person specifications of many large organisations. I decided, therefore, that it might be best not to share with them one of my favourite sayings: 'If at first you don't succeed, try management'.