20/01/2020
| “Are you sitting comfortably?” | ||
| “Perfectly, thank you.” | ||
| “Then I’ll begin.” | ||
| “I knew that mother would have to come into this at some point.” | ||
| “Ha Ha Ha. Now can you tell me, in your own words, how you see yourself. Where do you fit into the spectrum of personalities around you?” | ||
| “Well, for many years I used to think that the world was run by my parents’ generation. I was always expecting a headmaster figure to emerge from the shadows, to admonish or reprove. And then, one day, this all changed. A wheel seemed to have moved on by one cog during the night. And I realised that the world was now being run by my children’s generation.” | ||
| So, you feel passed over in some way, that you’ve missed the boat? | ||
| “Yes. In numerous employments, I have never really been taken seriously as a contender for a management position. It’s always been recognized that I’m a good team player, prepared to work all hours to see a project through, safe pair of hands, point out the direction and set him off – kind of guy. But nobody could see me in charge of a group of people. Then, one year, there was absolutely no other option and the executive was forced to ask me to lead the team. It was then that I realised where everybody had been coming from. I couldn’t see myself as a leader of men either. Fairly early on, in a moment of crisis, and losing track of where we were with various projects, I found myself shouting “I need a neater folder!” One of the office wags immediately found a large, yellow binder and labelled it “ANITA FOLDER”. From that point on, Anita ran all our projects and kept us on schedule. And difficult decisions weren’t made by me; I was simply relaying them at Anita’s behest. Similarly, it quickly became clear that I needed some help in managing my colleagues, and so another folder, this time labelled “MICHAEL LEAGUES”, was instituted. Between them, Michael and Anita, unpaid, ran the department – and the team went from strength to strength. I don’t know what became of me, but the folders, in recognition of their success, went on to much greater things. Anita became the chief executive case at Staples, and Michael accepted a position as a government attaché.” | ||
| “Very funny. But you seem to be suggesting that in fact you are capable of running a team, but that you need a prop to hide behind. You wanted the team to look at the folders, not at you, as your decisions were announced. But you’re also implying that the much-less-able folders went on to achieve success, leaving you behind.” | ||
| “Yes, well I think I’ve always been able to identify authority figures both above me and below me. Everybody must be satisfied.” | ||
| “Do you have an issue with authority figures?” | ||
| “I am burdened with personality defects which are not consonant with success as it is popularly understood. Probably the greatest, or perhaps I should say the least, of these is my overweening respect for authority, real or perceived. A memory which has proved impossible to expunge is of the day at primary school when the teacher told us that she didn’t want to hear another child ask if they could go to the toilet. To me, an instruction had been issued by an authority figure and, rather like HAL the computer in 2001 A Space Odyssey, I was torn by competing demands. The conflict was resolved by the puddle under my chair, something I could reflect on as I ran home in shorts. Careful, as ever, to avoid any roads with a hint of a Private sign, where the authority figure cannot even be bothered to identify themselves yet continues to exert their influence.” | ||
| “I see, so roads with a Private sign, like your folders, are representative of an authority figure. The headmaster character in hiding, who might pop out and tell you off. And your primary school teacher’s edict simply couldn’t be contradicted or even questioned, and outweighed any shame at wetting yourself in public.” | ||
| “Entirely so. Perhaps my worldview is a little too black-and-white.” | ||
| “Do you see me as an authority figure?” | ||
| “Of course I do. We’ve both contracted to take up well-defined positions in this negotiation.” | ||
| “And are you fearful of me?” | ||
| “Of all authority figures. Even those which are harder to pin down. Like Society or The Law. Once, as a teenager, I spotted a ten shilling note in the road. Although only having a worth, in modern terms, of 50p it still seemed a lot of money to me. With nobody in sight to ask about it, I should have trousered the note like any other normal person. But the silent, all-seeing body of the law was altogether too powerful an authority to dismiss in this way. Instead, I took the note down to the police station and registered it as a found item. Then, after the requisite period of three months, I was able to claim my prize since, obviously, nobody had been in to report the loss.” | ||
| “You’d satisfied the law, the unseen policeman – adopted a protocol which, to most, would seem unnecessary – and therefore placed yourself in an unimpeachable position. Safe to claim the ten shillings. Were you able to enjoy the money after that?” | ||
| “I can’t remember. I’m sure when I was handing it over in some shop, that I was happy to be spending money which was undeniably, provably mine.” | ||
| “So, if there isn’t a handy authority figure in sight, you’ll invent one to fill the gap. Has there ever been an instance where a real authority figure gave you a hard time?” | ||
| “Once, long ago, I must have turned up at school with a bad case of bed hair because halfway through a morning lesson the headmaster invited me to leave the room and comb it. This would have been unproblematic if I had been one of those kids with a comb in my pocket, but this request had given me a real problem. At the end of the corridor was a cloakroom with toilets, so I ran down there to see what I could find. All that was on offer was an old bristle brush used to clean the floors, but I managed to smarm down my hair with this. A little wetter than I would have liked, and either side of my crooked parting little bits of damp toilet paper nestled, but job done. So, I was rather surprised by the nature of my reception back in the classroom.” | ||
| “It’s beginning to sound like you feel that negotiation is impossible after your authority figure has taken up their stance. No matter what the likely outcome, you trust their judgement more than you do your own. Can you think of any reasons why you are prepared to be so passive?” | ||
| “It’s possible that I have a subconscious fear of rejection and perhaps then being unlikeable. I have been called some names in my time. A fellow college student once termed me ‘an inconsequential person’ for having failed to deliver on one or other of the social graces. And my grandchildren often refer to me as ‘Silly old Granddad’, for no reason whatever. In fact, the only person not to have given me a name is…. Myself. I have a profound dislike of the telephone. So much so, that I find I cannot say my own name whilst using one. It’s almost as though I don’t deserve to have a name. This can be quite a problem when trying to book a squash court, but the solution has turned out to be quite simple. My name has to be sung to a banal tune, like an advertising jingle. This lack of self-confidence can be picked even by very young children. When tucking my son into bed one day many years ago, he looked up at me and asked “Dad. Am I your only friend?” “Sadly, yes.” | ||
| “Hmmm I’m interested by the ‘unworthiness of a name’ assertion. But you don’t have any evidence for inconsequentiality do you?” | ||
| “There are plenty of examples from throughout my life to amplify the point. In over forty years of trying, I have never once voted for the winner in an election. I was always the last boy standing whenever teams were being picked. Shortly after moving into my first house, a salesman came to the door and asked if my parents were in. Happily, they weren’t. The list goes on.” | ||
| “So, would you say that confidence lies at the heart of your sense of failure?” | ||
| “Confidence is a strange business. I’m quite happy talking to you, and I would be equally happy in a small dinner party, but when there are more than nine people then I tend to close down socially. A pub situation is particularly problematic. Yet, strangely, when I speak publicly, which I do from time to time, there is no difficulty at all because, although I’m talking to a hundred or more people, which is definitely more than nine, I regard them as one audience. It also helps that what I say is scripted.” | ||
| “I see. Well, this sounds like it could be quite a limiting characteristic. We’ll need to work hard to overcome this number-dependent shyness. And, finally, could you give me some insight into how you deal with stress?” | ||
| I’m not normally given to having a strong reaction to stress. You just have to get on with things, don’t you. But every now and again, infrequently, I will respond by not speaking to anybody. It isn’t because I’m depressed, or angry, or don’t have anything to say. The situation simply pushes me to the point where I can’t be bothered to speak. It doesn’t last for long, but my family don’t like it. They call it having a ‘mute out’. I tell them, some fathers knock six bells out of their children but the real bastards are the ones who go quiet.” | ||
| “Right. Well, I think that about wraps things up. I’ve very much enjoyed our chat. Thank you so much for coming in. We’ll be in touch in due course, though I think it only fair to say that it’s looking highly unlikely that we will be able to offer you a position.” | ||