Husband comes home seething with
righteous anger, tells wife he took on the boss, told him where he got
off, enough’s enough, my self-esteem is more important than the
consequences.
Wife’s
eyes reflect the sheen of pride in her husband, the hero, we’ll take
the world on my darling, keep the starch in those principles, don’t let
anyone ride roughshod over you, show them what you are made of, the
right stuff and all that. Someday later the houseboy back answers, is
out of line or so the husband thinks. The reaction is instant. Insolence
is unacceptable. He must be punished, the cheeky sod. And he is. Cancel
his visa, send him home, he did not know his place. Why is virtue in us
not a virtue in somebody else?
We
spend an inordinate portion of our lives feeling good about the sort of
persons we are. We even offload our concept of ourselves on others. “I
am like this” or “I am very particular about” are sentiments, which
preface our self-sell. Yet, establishing stakes turns into an invasion
of our dignity when we become the targets. Surely, if we can dish it out
we should be ready to take it. Remember the last time you cut your
superior to size and felt justified as he squirmed and your colleagues
admired your courage?
Splendid,
so long as you are ready to extend the same privilege to your
subordinate who may be somebody else’s superior. But when he takes you
on, you bristle with rage. Many of us then plot to get even because we
convince our-selves that retribution is well deserved, His misdemeanour
is our martyrdom. One senior journalist, for example, worked for a very
high profile Editor who was overly conscious of his prerogatives as a
crusader and still is. Almost super-sensitive to any encroachment of his
authority he brooked no interference. Paradoxically, he was indecently
cavalier with the space other people administered. Since he had the
benediction of the proprietors, little could be done to control his
arbitrary tramplings in office and the chasm between that image and the
sword and shield wielding civil rights champion projected to the outside
world widened by the day.
Finally,
a delegation was forged and dispatched to protest his double standards.
The man was completely bewildered by the attack. So smugly certain was
he that everyone admired his courage and his vitriolic pen that he
presumed we also saluted his unilateralism. The lesson completely failed
to get through and to this day he cannot practice what he preaches.
Success
and power blind such people to their flaws and allow them to set
themselves up against their own rules of conduct, denied to the rest.
The tougher they go the deeper the dichotomy. They are candid. The rest
are nitpicking. They see the whole picture. The others muddy the waters.
They are innovative. Their subordinates are shortsighted. We’ve had
bosses like that and been bosses like that. Our perks are legitimate,
the other chap misuses company property. We see the greater good. He is
only propelled by self-interest. We exercise individual perceptions. If
he does it he is guilty of not being a team man. We know what we are
doing. He is groping in the dark. We see ourselves as fair, reasonable,
compassionate, open to suggestion and tolerant, never realising that
others see us as mean, spiteful, small, vengeful and suspicious.
The
more people we command the more potentially dangerous becomes this idea
we have of ourselves as paragons. Failure to accept our weaknesses
leaves us vulnerable to blandishment and flattery from the ranks and
very soon the manipulator becomes the manipulated. Thousands of good
people collapse mid-career because they serve inept and incompetent
superiors. Instead of giving off their best at all times they divert
their energies into the art of survival and engage in the most widely
played game of all time — office politics. What is seen to be done
becomes more important than what is done and the equation on the
hierarchy becomes fluid and dependent on expediency and not expertise.