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The villager

In the past several months, we’ve considered here the question of intellectuals and idiots, and their role in the theory and practice of management, as well as in society in general. Most recently, we discussed the symbolism of the never-too remote noble’s castle overshadowing the pliantly quaint life of the village. This week, we will spend a little time trying to put all this together to see why it might be important for us, as managers, to appreciate its real or potential influence on us, and on how we learn and work.

I recently read The Great Upheaval, by Jay Winik, which is essentially a history of the 1790s, arguing that events around the world - or, at least, from Russia and the Ottoman Empire westward - combined to influence, and be influenced by, the revolutionary events in the evolution of the United States during that time. It is an interesting book on a number of levels. One of the most striking is revealed in its depiction of the significance of the French Palace of Versailles, built in the 17th century by King Louis XIV.

The author takes great pains to describe the breathtaking splendor of the complex, and the magnificent ritual that ruled there - symbol of the radiance of the king, around whom everyone and everything else revolved in minutely detailed orbits. The palace was the marvel of the world, prompting royalty elsewhere to attempt to replicate it.

Sure, there are a few sentences describing the tens of thousands of nameless peasants and slaves who constructed it over fourteen harrowing years. One even notes the horrifying mortality rate from accident and disease, necessitating a nightly parade of wagons to carry away the dead. But, as the author notes, this was of “no matter;” the work continued, and the Sun King ultimately took up residence in the immaculate site - all the construction debris, material and human, having been discretely removed.

Servants and slaves maintained the pristine splendor of the buildings and grounds, preparing magnificent entertainments and emptying royal chamber pots. Nobles vied with each other to be allowed to attend the king as he dressed, or gloried in the most casual monarchical glance or nod in their direction. This life, self-referentially unfolding in precise and unending choreography at Versailles, was the roof and crown of civilization, the grand achievement of what some argue to have been the greatest society of the time, and the focal point of the envy of the world.

It is worth noting. When the courses of our lives - and I’m talking here about we peasants - are driven, even suffered to exist, by the vanities and the unimaginable power and wealth of such as these privileged few, it will inevitably have an insidiously profound effect on our view of ourselves with respect to them, and, more lastingly, on the culture which we and they share. Of course, it will also have a comparable and converse affect on their view of themselves with respect to us; one just as insidious and durable.

The last quarter of the eighteenth century came and seemed largely to sweep that sort of thing away across much of North America and Europe, presently or ultimately. But did it, really? And to the extent it did, what contrasting legacies did it leave in its wake in these two regions?

It is a complicated and important question - even for us, today, as managers. Because we, most decidedly, are not royalty, and our employees are not peasants. In the modern world of organizations, the rise of which was noted so tellingly by Peter Drucker, the villager runs the village, and a main part of our role is to organize it so that we peons can effectively do that.

The thing is, of course, that we got where we are from where we started. And it can certainly be difficult to separate the lessons of our history from the perhaps unwelcome momentum it imposes on the progress we strive to chart in the light of those lessons. Similarly, we often confuse the timeless insights of some of its greatest thinkers with their characters, mired, as they were, in the mores of their own times; in which are to be found the true inspiration?

These issues have immediate and practical import in our work. Every day. We will look at this a bit over the next few days. Please do join in.

This post is a part of a series. You can learn about and link to the other articles here: Intellectuals

Today’s tip: Did you know that the archetypically efficient and altruistically communal world of the ant colony may actually be rife with selfish scheming and dynastic intrigue - even corruption? Please see this intriguing report from BBC News for more. We should be careful when looking to nature for inspiration and guidance - we may discover ourselves as much in it, as it in us.

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  1. [...] As we noted yesterday, in the not too distant past the world was largely divided between those who were purported to have a more or less divine right to their rank in the nobility, and the rest of us, the servants. The niceties of the gradations within these two main groupings - even the innovation of the caste-spanning “gentle” class in later years - does not affect the argument, here. [...]

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