Awakening, 2nd edition

by Kuili, Ray N.

  “Absolutely neutral observers exist only in classical mechanics, ” Robert said firmly , “w hich nowadays is obsolete. What do you want to observe us for?”

  “I’d think it ’s obvious. We owe a report on your performance to your employer.”

  “Bingo!” Paul said loudly.

  A murmur rolled around the room and gradually reached a crescendo .

  “Can you tell us what ’s going to be in this report?” Robert asked casually.

  “But of course. First of all, the ultimate result: h ave others chosen you as their leader or not ? Plus, we ’ll share our observations and provide an evaluation of your leadership potential. Granted, if you decide to opt out and leave today , there won ’t be much for us to share.”

  “Wait a second, ” Brandon said with puzzlement. “What do you mean, “I f you leave today ?” What if we ’re all done by noon? It sounds like a simple thing.”

  “If you complete the task today, someone ’s report will be very impressive. But, you ’re right ; in that case , you leave today and do get a report.”

  “And what if we run out of time?” Kevin asked. “What if we never agree?”

  “Then there will be eleven reports with rather unfavorable feedback.”

  Kevin frowned.

  “Are you trying to say that only the winner will have something nice in their report ? And everyone else gets an F? I hope you ’re not serious.”

  “I am serious, but you ’re misinterpreting my words. Our feedback will be negative—somewhat negative—across the board only if you all fail to reach an agreement. From our perspective, this result would imply the lack of a single real leader in this class. But, as long as you pick a leader—and I ’m confident that you ’re fully capable of doing this—we ’ll have plenty of good observations to share. Not becoming the leader under these circumstances does not mean you have no leadership potential. On the contrary, it may become a great demonstration of your leadership maturity—it all depends on the situation. You don ’t have to win to get the experience you came here for. Moreover, failing—or choosing not to become a leader—may even result in more useful feedback for you.”

  “That’s what I always tell my bad employees, ” Paul said sourly. “Sorry, your performance sucks, so no bonus for you this time. But wait! Behold ; h ere ’s a bit of constructive feedback that will help you big time.”

  Clark didn’t seem to be moved by this analogy.

  “And your point is?”

  “My point is there ’s useful feedback and there ’s a fat bonus. They don ’t mix.”

  “In this case , one doesn ’t preclude the other .”

  “Could you elaborate on ‘A ny means ?’ What exactly does any signify in this context?” asked Michael.

  “Precisely what it sounds like, ” Clark replied in a jolly tone. “Any means. No limitations.”

  “Thank you,” Michael leaned back in his chair.

  “No limitations?” repeated Ross. “On what? We can talk, we can write . . . What other means are you talking about?”

  “Physical?” Alan guessed.

  “Yes,” Clark confirmed. “Any means, including physical.”

  The hubbub died immediately.

  “This isn’t funny, ” Joan broke the silence.

  “Very good,” Clark responded. “This isn ’t a joke.”

  Joan looked at him as if he had just asked the group to crawl under their tables and bark.

  “You’re teasing us, right? You really expect us to . . .” her beautifully shaped mouth curled contemptuously, “to punch each other? And you ’re going to observe? What do you think this is—a free wrest l ing show? You must be out of your mind to suggest such things .”

  “I did not suggest anything along these lines, ” Clark answered in a very polite tone. “I only informed you about the fact that you are not limited in your choice of means. The one and only thing you ’re prohibited to rely on is the help of people not currently present in this room. As for the possibility of physical violence, it was suggested by this young man, ” his index finger pointed at Alan.

  “But you hinted at it!” snapped Alan, as all eyes turned to him.

  “No, I did not, ” Clark objected. “It was you r own interpretation of the word any .”

  “What difference does it make?” Alex ’s voice broke the new wave of silence. “Somebody would ’ve asked about this anyway. And in any case , it ’s illegal.”

  Clark shook his head.

  “Wrong. There ’s nothing illegal about this proposition. It is as legal as the agreement you sign whenever you rent something , like a jet ski, for example . Agreements of this nature always render the renting company not liable for any damage you may cause to yourself or to others while using their equipment—including severe trauma and death. I ’m sure each of you will have signed this type of paper more than once in the past.

  “A similar—perhaps more mildly worded—item was included in the agreement that each of you had to sign before arriving here. We are not responsible for any actions you take while participating in the class. In fact, the agreement included some verbiage that in theory made all of you not responsible for any damage caused to this facility or to other participants during this group exercise. This, of course, does not deprive you of your fundamental right to sue us or anyone else for any action you consider damaging in any way. And , again, I ’d like to emphasize that you have an option to leave this place at any moment.”

  “Sounds like you ’ve got your . . . err . . . back covered, ” Paul concluded.

  “Sort of,” Clark agreed.

  “That’s a hard message to swallow, ” Kevin said with an uneasy look. “Just by mentioning this , you ’ve given some of us an unfair advantage.”

  “Is there any other type of advantage?” Clark smiled back.

  “Where can we rent some guns?” Paul asked .

  Clark didn’t seem to be put off by these questions.

  “Not here. No weapons of any sort allowed. No guns, no knives. Nothing.”

  “What about some bats?” Alan had already overcome his frustration and now was quite playful.

  Joan, however, was not in the mood for jokes anymore.

  “Would you stop for a minute?” she said with noticeable irritation. “This doesn ’t make any sense. It ’s plain . . .” she stumbled for a second, looking for the right word, “plain silly. Just plain silly. Here ’s how you ’re framing it: Go beat the crap out of each other –and don ’t worry, we ’ll stay out of it. Oh , and by the way, feel free to sue whoever touches you. That will make true leaders out of you. How can you seriously say this? What did we come here for? For this nonsense?”

  “Listen,” Clark said, still very patiently, “I didn ’t frame the exercise this way. You did. All I said was that you could choose any means you wanted. For some reason , of all the possible means available to us to persuade someone , you have chosen to think of violence. So I guess it ’s me who should be asking some questions. Why? Why are you so worried about this aspect? In this room , I see eleven intelligent , highly educated , socially responsible , mature and civilized managers. What are you afraid of? Why would anyone even think about physical abuse? Did I say I was going to add ten criminals into your group? I don ’t think I did. You find it silly to talk about this and so do I. In fact, I find it very odd, if not to say creepy .”

  “Really,” Ross said cheerfully, “are we out of our minds? We ’re managers. Now if we were professional bouncers . . .”

  “I know a professional bouncer, ” muttered Alex. “He would be bored to death by now if he were here .”

  “All right, professional managers , ” said Chris , “l et ’s move on. I ’d say we ’re done with instructions.”

  “Wait,” Brandon raised his palm. “I still don ’t get it. So we move on. And what ’s next? Do you expect us to sit here and shout , ‘Pick me! Pick me!?’ Aren ’t you going to give us some structure to work with, a process of some sort? Sme
lls cheap, you know.”

  An endless stream of patience emanated from Clark.

  “No, this is not the case. Perhaps I wasn ’t clear enough. We ’ve already provided you with a solid structure. You simply haven ’t noticed it yet. It is completely up to you whether to sit and shout or to consider more efficient approaches. If you are a real leader, most likely you will think of a better idea. More questions?”

  He looked around the room.

  “No? Then excuse my cliché, but may the best man (or woman) win.”

  With these words, he moved to the corner to settle comfortably at a small table. Ed was already sitting at the table across the room . A s for Arden, he had disappeared, apparently having concluded that two observers c ould handle it for now.

  For a minute, everyone remained silent.

  “Well,” said Chris finally, “let ’s get started. We have to start somewhere.”

  “Agreed,” Kevin backed him, though not very confidently.

  Chris gave him a supporting look.

  “For starters , we have to decide how we ’re going to elect a leader. As Brandon said, we need a process. Without it we ’re stuck.”

  “For starters, ” said Michael, “we ’d better push a few tables together. We can hardly see each other now.”

  Chapt e r Three

  They sat and looked at each other. This wasn ’t hard, for the three tables pushed together created a setting resembling the famous round table that King Arthur used to discuss business with his knights ; however , there was no king in sight. Nor was there any likelihood of royal presence anytime soon. The identity of the king of the hill was just as unclear now as it had been two hours ago. And yet no one seemed d isturbed by this fact anymore.

  Just two hours ago, after Clark had announced the rules of engagement, half of the group had been puzzled while the other half had been vexed. Just two hours ago , Joan had been proclaiming angrily that this kind of cheap trick may work on high school kids, but not on adults. “Responsible, mature, civilized adults, ” Alan had added at that point. Just two hours ago , Paul had been saying how he had figured from the very beginning that this week was going to be a complete waste of time —but little did he know how quickly this would become obvious to everyone else , too . All of this had taken place just two hours ago.

  But now—now everyone was engaged. Somehow, in the space of two hours , it had become apparent that each one of them had something to say to the others.

  At first, they—mostly Chris, Alan, and Ross—tried to come up with a process.

  “The process, ” Chris was repeating, his eyes glittering, “we must have a good process.”

  “We can do it, ” Ross was chanting, smiling , and looking into the others’ faces . “I ’m sure we can.”

  And Joan sat grim, and Robert sat silent, and Alex was drumming his powerful fingers softly against the table while occasionally casting thoughtful glances at Kevin. And some long minutes later , when there was still no sign of the process, when Brandon had muttered, “I t ’s useless, folks ” and began smiling skeptically, and Paul demonstratively kept sketching one grinning ugly mug after another in his letterhead notepad, Michael , who until that moment had not uttered a single word, suddenly turned to Stella and , just as suddenly , asked , “What do you value in a leader?”

  He spoke softly, talking apparently only to her, but for some reason , exactly at that point there was a microscopic pause in the quest for the process and everyone else heard him.

  “Me?” Stella asked with a certain degree of bafflement. “What do I value in a leader?”

  “Yes,” Michael confirmed , “y ou.”

  “What sort of leader?”

  “A leader whom you could follow.”

  “Well,” Stella said slowly , “t o start with, this leader better be strong, if you expect me to follow him .”

  “No doubt about that, ” Michael agreed. “What else? Any details?”

  Stella thought.

  “Details . . . First, this leader has to believe in the goal he’s lead ing me to wards .”

  And at that point it became apparent that everyone—or nearly everyone—was listening to this conversation, that no one was interested in the process, and that everyone had an opinion to contribute. Ross made a feeble attempt to bring them back to the process -crafting, but this attempt failed miserably, leading only to an irritated look from Stella. She was trying to explain to others what she meant by , “Believing in the goal , ” and wasn ’t expecting to be interrupted.

  Another thirty minutes later, when they were interrupting each other and the conversation was full of remarks like , “You ’d have to be crazy to give power to people like that!” Paul at once stopped sketching his grinning mugs and informed everybody that , in his opinion , only those who don ’t surround themselves with idiots could claim to be leaders. At first, this remark was met with laughter, but then with Robert ’s help it turned out that Paul ’s definition of a leader was far more controversial than laughable and the argument boiled up anew.

  “No, you listen to me!” Brandon argued fiercely. “Even a perfect job interview isn ’t a panacea. Sometimes it takes me longer to see that someone isn ’t a fit.”

  “But you don ’t need much time to tell that someone is a complete idiot, do you?” Stella asked him.

  “Depends. You can always spot intelligence, but stupidity comes in all shapes. But , yes, if someone is an idiot I see it pretty quickly.”

  “Then how come there are so many of them around?” Paul asked with a bubbling passion. “Someone ’s hiring them . Someone ’s bringing them in! Some shitty managers need them! And I ’d rather poke myself in the eye with a fork than call one of th o se management jerks a leader!”

  “Take it easy , boys, ” Joan calmed them down . “Things happen. Even the best leaders make mistakes.”

  “Best leader, my foot!” Paul proclaimed majestically. “If your best leader keeps hiring idiots , he ’s not a leader. He ’s —”

  “An idiot,” Alan suggested.

  “Yes!” and Paul glanced victoriously at Brandon .

  “I’ve been taking some notes, ” Michael said calmly. “It ’s shaping up nicely. We disagree on some details, but on a high level , we ’re all on the same page. Want to hear it?”

  “Bring it on!” Paul roared, still preoccupied with the fight.

  Joan looked at him reproachfully and he said, this time with less passion , “Let ’s hear it.”

  “What about writing it down on the whiteboard or on this flipchart here?” Alan asked. “We may need it later.”

  Michael nodded.

  “Good point. Would you mind taking care of this?”

  Alan hesitated a moment. Then he stood up and, having raised his finger, announced loudly , “A true leader should always be willing to do any job himself !”

  “Some jobs are better left to others , ” said Alex .

  Alan glanced at him, picked up a marker and turned to Michael.

  “First,” Michael said, “we ’ve all agreed that a leader must believe in the goals he is leading others to wards .”

  Alan began writing with unexpected eagerness.

  “Wait a second, ” Chris stopped him. “This is secondary. First of all, a leader must know what he wants. He ’s got to have a goal.”

  “What’s the difference?” Brandon enquir ed dryly.

  Chris turned to him.

  “Come again?”

  “What’s the difference between having a goal and believing in it? It ’s your goal.”

  “Right,” a subtle smile appeared on Chris ’s face , “t here ’s no difference. But that ’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean then?”

  “I meant that any manager leads people somewhere. Towards a goal. I do, you do —we all do. That’s what we ’re paid to do. But it takes a real leader to have a goal. A goal of his own.”

  “Which isn’t necessarily the same goal he leads others to,
” Joan added, half questioningly.

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “But that’s what you meant, ” grinned Alan. “Don ’t worry, we got it right.”

  And he wrote in a firm , clear hand: “A leader always has an ulterior motive.”

  He looked at his writing for a moment, and then changed ‘ulterior motive ’ to ‘a goal of his own.’ A moment later he made another change and replaced ‘his ’ by ‘his/her .’

  Michael gave him a supporting nod.

  “Next. A leader has to be respected.”

  “Or feared,” Alex said firmly.

  Michael looked at him with a silent question.

  “Respect passes easily, ” Alex explained. “Fear doesn ’t.”

  “What?” Joan asked turning grim again. “You boys are really something. What fear?”

  “Simple, ” Alex responded, looking at her. “A p hysiological kind of fear. One that makes people sweat and their knees wobble.”

  “This won’t last, ” Ross said doubtfully. “I don ’t think people would ever choose to follow somebody like that.”

  Alex only smiled back. For some reason, t his time the benevolent smile on his massive face looked rather unfriendly.

  “They did follow Genghis Khan, you know, ” Stella said suddenly , “a nd I don ’t recall anyone ever appointing him a manager.”

  “That does it, ” Brandon snapped, rising to his feet. “Genghis Khan, Tamerlane and Attila. Next you ’ll be bringing up Caesar, Stalin and Mao Zedong. Did you all come here for some history lessons? Why would we even talk about them?”

  “We’re discussing leaders, ” Stella replied sweetly. “Shouldn ’t we talk about the best of the best?”

  “Best? What best? Sorry, I see no connection between these names and my job. I have a different profession.”

  “Uh, uh . . .” Stella shook her finger at him. “Only if you plan to stay a manager forever. But should you choose to grow into a leader , you will have precisely the same profession. Different scale though.”