Society

The greasy pole

What are the qualities required for
advancement in the modern world?

Walter Humes

'Fame is the Spur' was a popular novel by Howard Spring, published in 1940: the title was taken from Milton's poem 'Lycidas'. It tells the story of an ambitious Labour politician, Hamer Shawcross, who starts off with high ideals and a desire to bring about social reform, but ends up being absorbed into the upper classes which he had previously seen as the enemy.
     It is a familiar journey, one not confined to the world of politics. The narrative, whether real or fictional, could be presented in various ways: as an account of upward mobility, with inevitable compromises as the reality of power is encountered; as evidence of the persistence of the class structure despite changes in the surface configuration of society; as an exploration of the conflict between 'getting on' and 'getting out', and the sometimes painful effects of this on personal identity.
     Observing the behaviour of highly ambitious people makes a fascinating study. I have never been tempted to apply for very senior management posts – partly, I like to think, because I have a realistic sense of my own limitations – but I have had the opportunity to watch the progress of many others who have aimed higher. Some of these people have been extremely competent and have carried out their responsibilities with considerable success. In other cases, however, ambition has exceeded capability and the result has been stress for the individual and disappointment for subordinate staff.
    
The promotion of employees beyond their optimum level of competence is a well-known organisational phenomenon: it is called the Peter Principle after Dr Laurence Peter who first identified it. Once such a promotion has been made, organisations are generally very reluctant to admit that they may have made an error in case the 'integrity' of the whole outfit is called into question. In extreme cases, this can lead to a group of ill-equipped and insecure men and women at the top, desperately trying to defend their positions and maintain their authority, with damaging consequence for the morale of those who look to them for leadership.
     In the absence of genuine ability, it is possible for ambitious individuals to advance in their careers if they can demonstrate one or more of a number of characteristics. For example, drive and energy usually attract favourable attention – being willing to put in long hours, to travel extensively on behalf of the organisation, and to spend time cultivating a range of contacts who might be useful.
     I once had a senior colleague whose main claim to fame was his preparedness to utter well-meaning platitudes at all points on the globe. When it came to meeting an international demand for motherhood and apple pie, no one was better equipped to supply very large helpings. His schedule was impressive. On one occasion, he travelled to the Indian sub-continent only to discover that his paperwork was not in order and he was refused entry. Instead of putting it down to experience, he took the next plane home, quickly obtained the necessary documentation and flew back immediately, in time to keep his engagement. I freely admit I could not match that kind of dedication. I do not travel well: indeed, after a day trip to Rothesay I require counselling.
     Another characteristic which is useful to the aspiring is a very high boredom threshold. The ability to sit through endless meetings, with seeming interest, while the same issues are revisited, the same arguments rehearsed, with no clear decision being taken, demonstrates the kind of bureaucratic mindset that is now highly valued in many organisations. If it is accompanied by a capacity to make the occasional 'positive' contribution to the discussion, preferably employing the latest meaningless jargon, so much the better. I suspect that my kind of research – which employs linguistic analysis to deconstruct the underlying purpose of new forms of professional language – has not served me well in this respect. My scepticism about fashionable discourse has no doubt marked me down as 'suspect' in terms of organisational loyalty.
    
Also useful to have in the kitbag of the ambitious is political astuteness combined with ethical flexibility. Low cunning can often pay much higher dividends than principled positioning. An impressive example of this involved a middle-ranking member of staff who persuaded his previous boss, a man of high standards, to nominate his successor for a prestigious academic honour. The case for doing so was made on credible grounds: it would be a generous act and would bring favourable publicity to the institution. When the honour was duly forthcoming, the deal-maker went to the beneficiary, whose principles did not match those of his predecessor, and suggested that some recognition for this supportive act was in order. Promotion soon followed. The notion that advancement in the academic world depends entirely on merit does not always stand up to scrutiny.
     There is, of course, always a price to pay the higher one climbs. Senior positions may be well-rewarded and enable those who occupy them to exercise a degree of power that they find gratifying. But there is loss as well as gain. Look at what happens to politicians when they are given a ministerial portfolio. They have to accept 'cabinet responsibility', which means they are required to toe the approved line and suppress any personal reservations they might have about policies. They sacrifice intellectual freedom for the sake of a seat at the top table. So anyone who aspires to high office should think carefully, not only about where their talents really lie, but also about which values matter most to them. Failure to do so might lead to the sweet fruits of 'success' quickly turning rather sour. In 'Fame is the Spur' Hamer Shawcross is to be pitied as much as envied.

Walter Humes is research professor in education at the University of the West of Scotland