Creating and Sustaining a Winning Culture--The "Smell of the Place"

March 26, 2023

 This 8 minute video presents the clearest and most actionable path to create a winning culture I have ever experienced. I first saw it it watching a video about 25 years ago of a session presented in Davos by Professor Sumatra Ghoshal of the London Business School. I watched it while exercising at home. 


Being greatly moved, I reached out to the Professor and asked him to come to Cincinnati to talk with our senior executives. He did. As I recall, they were similarly moved.

The metaphor, "The Smell of the Place" has played out in real life for me, again and again. 

Enjoy. .

John



On Tue, Mar 21, 2023 at 3:22 PM, JOHN PEPPER <jepepjr@aol.com> wrote:

"Good Wars vs. Misbegotten Wars"

March 17, 2023

  

LOOKING FOR THE GOOD WAR:  AMERICAN AMNESIA AND THE VIOLENT PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS BY ELIZABETH D. SAMET
 
There is a great deal I like in this book, a great deal.  But as other reviewers have noted, for me it is flawed in drawing on too much detail and in a less than optimum, organized way, drawing on a huge array of not always relevant literary and film references.  Without a doubt, Ms. Samet’s research and her knowledge of Shakespeare, literary figures and film of the 20th century and into this century are prodigious. 
 
I gained many new insights and much affirmation of what I knew and believed before:
 
1.      The sentimentalized memorialization of the Civil War aimed at bringing White people together, so well documented by David Blight.
 
2.      Fresh for me was how the myth of the Civil War was perpetuated by film in the 1940s and 1950s, particularly the Westerns.  They signaled moral equivalency for each side, failing to recognize that one side (the South) had undertaken war to preserve the enslavement of people. 
 
3.      Samet underscores the reality that all “war is hell.”  Soldiers enter it with a mixture of motives, many laudable but by no means all noble.  We have tended to glorify World War II, a necessary war if there ever was one,  through the work of Stephen Ambrose, Tom Brokaw and Steven Spielberg.  Yet, in drawing out this reality,  she undercuts the reality that there are some “good wars,” ones that are a necessity in the evil they seek to end. This is surely one of them.
 
I have long believed that there are wars of choice, wars that could have been avoided and some wars that could not.  World War II is a war that couldn’t have been avoided, not unless one goes back to the antecedents for Hitler and deny his existence.  I don’t think the Civil War could have been avoided either, not with the dichotomy of beliefs on slavery.  The Spanish-American War was, I believe, a war of choice.  So was Vietnam, in hindsight, misbegotten.  And the same is true of Iraq.
 
You can’t read this book without thinking about the war underway right now between Russia and Ukraine, supported by the U.S. and the European Union.  Was this war avoidable?  Historians will study and debate this forever.  I think it might have been avoided if one goes back to the different decisions that might have been made at the turn of the century.  While it was a narrow window, I believe there was the possibility that, with more foresight and courageous, imaginative leadership, a Pan-European security arrangement, including Russia, could have been put in place.  Whether it would have lasted forever no one can know.  But I think at that point in time, Putin was open to such an arrangement. 
 
By the time we reached 2014, however, with the expansion of NATO, including the prospective inclusion of Ukraine and Georgia in NATO and, importantly, the increasing paranoia of Putin that the West was out to surround him ( with enough circumstantial evidence to prove the case in his mind), the risk of war was high.  
Yet, individual agency still existed, in the person of Putin.  I suspect that many other Russian leaders would have reached the same decision he did, but I’m not sure all of them would have.   His belief that Ukraine was part of Russia, something he came to believe in more and more, might not have driven another leader as it drove him. 
 
“We are where we are,” as we tritely say.  But there is an enormous lesson to be learned in this for the future.  Boiled down, it amounts to doing one’s best to see the world as a potential adversary sees it.  We didn’t do that with Russia.  We failed to consider at the turn of the century what would be in the long-term interest of the U.S., Europe, Russia and the world.  We saw the world almost entirely through our lens. Now we confront the challenge of seeing the world as China (and much of the rest of the world outside the West) see it. 
 
Other insights: 
 
1.      Our quick 100-day victory in the first Gulf War allowed us to kick the Vietnam syndrome of having failed.  Positive confidence-affirming signals returned and a sense of hubris along with them.
 
2.      The attack of September 11, 2001 drew on analogies with Hitler which drove us to a flawed war on terrorism, which led us to the misbegotten decision to invade Iraq.
 
There is an aspect of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine that is especially tragic.  And that is that, even as the Ukrainians rightly view themselves as an independent nation, it is also a civil war in Ukraine.  Countless Russian soldiers are fighting, trying to kill men and women who are extensions of their own families.  There are human dimensions here that only time will reveal,  even as they are being carried out in blood as I write this. 
 
It’s hard to imagine the conflicted feelings—the horror—felt by a Russian soldier who thought he was going to Belarus for exercises and found himself invading Ukraine to kill someone who could be a friend or relative. 
 
Many of the Shakespearian plays which Samet cites were about civil wars in England.  The agony of those wars is being mirrored in Ukraine in ways that will eventually be written about in history and literature.
 
3.      Samet refers often to my favorite philosopher, Reinhold Niebuhr.   He brought a cautionary reading to history.  Beware, “if virtue becomes vice through some hidden defect in the virtue; if strength becomes weakness because of the vanity to which strength may prompt the mighty man or nation; if security is transmuted into insecurity because too much reliance is placed upon it; if wisdom becomes folly because it does not know its limits.”
 
Niebuhr believed that this risk had poisoned the evolution of Communism in the 1950s.  And it’s fair to say it has affected us, too, in the United States in our own history.  In fact, it is endemic to human nature.  Moral complacency and superiority can come to easily justify doubtful means to achieve ostensibly virtuous ends. 
 
American innocence—the faith in the essential virtue of our society that makes any critique evidence of ill-will--is more than cautionary.  It’s a warning.  Yet, we must not allow this to bring us to a position of ultimate relativism.  We must recognize that there are truths to be honored, nowhere better summarized than in the words of our Declaration of Independence:  “All men are created equal.”
 
All of this is a reminder of what I’ve seen in the lives of everyone, including myself.  We are curious compounds of good and evil.  Stubborn idealism comes at a price:  namely, an intolerance of complexity, compromise and ambiguity.  Yet, again, we cannot allow this to leave us awash in the foggy no-man’s land of relativism.
 
4.      Robert McNamara’s The Fog of War is worthy of comment.  McNamara’s story illustrates “the slipperiness of beginnings and ends, the refusal of war to stand still long enough to be shaped into a coherent story; the ambient fog obscures causes and consequences as well as ends and means.”

5.      Today, Samet asserts, we celebrate the veteran of World War II as almost an archetype of stoic humility rather than a readily identifiable individual.  Samet castigates this in a way that I disagree with.  For there are values, even if not always present, even if simplified in terms of motivation, embedded in the best of what happened in World War II. For example, the focus on loyalty, of seeking freedom over tyranny.  Yes, a bit of simplification on these values is not all a bad thing so long as it doesn’t disguise the fact that all war is hell
 
6.      Sentimental memorialization of the Civil War, with its invidious impact on race relations, continued well into the 20th century.  In 1936, Franklin Roosevelt unveiled a statue of Robert E. Lee.  His speech tapped into the popular interpretation of the Civil War and Lee.  It also acclaimed Lee as not only a “great leader of men and a great General,” but also as “one of the greatest American Christians and one of our greatest American gentlemen.”  Roosevelt’s position may have been anchored in a genuine belief, but I doubt it.  It certainly was anchored in his need to get the Southern vote to win the presidency.
 
7.      Frederick Douglass foresaw in his 1875 speech what the reconciliation for the White race through the romantization of the Civil War meant as he plaintively asked:  “When this great White race has renewed its fallacy of patriotism and float back into its accustomed channels, the question for us:  In what position will this stupendous reconciliation leave the colored people?  What tendencies will spring out of it?”
 
Let me conclude as Samet concludes with timeless words from Lincoln.  She draws on his speech of 1838.  Lincoln was meditating on the theme of “the perpetuation of our political institutions.”  He did so, as he writes, with “a curious mixture of respect and impatience.”  The respect grew from his celebrating the importance and influence of the men who had created this country.  A few were still around.  They may have seemed to be “giant oaks,” but they were not giants, only men.  Heroes for their own time but not for all time.

“In his remarks, Lincoln respected the past without being paralyzed by it.  He understood the ways in which improvement must temper veneration and reason moderate passion. He recognized that only truth could conquer the dangerous distortions of myths,” Samet eloquently writes. 
 
And so Lincoln returns to what we find in the Declaration of Independence:   “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”  “That is the electric cord in that Declaration that links the hearts of patriotic and liberty-loving men together, that will link those patriotic hearts as long as the love of freedom exists in the minds of men throughout the world.”
 
That is what we were fighting for in World War II and achieved.
  
That is what the Ukrainians are fighting for at this moment.  It is inspiring.  It is not to be forgotten, not ever, and I doubt if it ever will be.  However, I hope in time we will seek to understand what led to this war and what we can draw from this understanding that might allow us to avoid a similar war in the future.

Countering our Quest to be "Spectacular"

March 6, 2023


 
The pastor at St. Bart’s Episcopal Church in New York last week offered one of his biting sermons.  It drew on the Gospel which recorded the three temptations which the Devil had presented to Jesus while he was wandering in the wilderness.  He challenged Christ, if you really are the son of God then turn these stones into bread.  Rebuffed on that, the Devil went on to offer Christ the world below them (they were standing on a high mountain) if Jesus would bow down and worship him.  Again rebuffed, the Devil came with his third challenge, for Jesus to throw himself down from a great height.  Again, Jesus said, “No,” returning to the fundamental truth that what really matters is following the words of God.
 
The pastor went on to talk about his dogged determination to “be spectacular.”  He went through a bracing confession of things that he and St. Bart’s pursued that in essence boiled down to trying to be "spectacular". 

He recounted how he and St. Barts sought to outshine other nearby churches through better programming; a more inspiring choir; a larger endowment and stronger sermons.  Yet, these are not the things that matter most, he said.  What matters most  is to be humble, to do everything one can to follow in the steps of Jesus and help each other on that journey. 
 
I haven’t written this simply to record a sermon. No, I do it because it reminds me of things I do which truthfully boil down to trying to “be spectacular.”

I focus on how much I read, on hoping more people will read my blog, I check to see how many “likes” there are on a photo of one of my grandchildren, I  check the price of P&G stock price too often, I count the number of steps I walk each day.  

 I don’t know if you’d call these things “spectacular,” but they are ego-driven and they are diversions from the much simpler and basic task of trying to make a positive difference in other people’s lives, especially my family's.