#235: Fragments of Freedom
Dear Friends
I struggled to write this week’s letter.
There is no shortage of material. I have been my diligent self.
A dozen books are stacked next to my desk. l have read them, completed my annotations and they’re waiting to be woven into our community.
Still, I couldn’t find the thread. I did not know where to begin.
How does one begin in all this noise?
The noise you fear precedes the tramp of boots, the clang of jail doors, and the screaming silence of banned voices; the murderous clamour that those who have survived dictatorships can hear before it even whispers. We know it as our skin crawls.
Next week I will return to the everyday stuff of making the most of this life, but for today, I am following this feeling.
There is no structure today, at least not one that is clear to me as I write this introduction. There are fragments.
It will be incomplete, partial, messy. It feels appropriate. I might be wrong. If I am, I trust you will forgive me and return next week.
/strategy
Almost 62 years ago, whilst imprisoned in Birmingham, Alabama, Martin Luther King Jr. wrote, “More and more I feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than have the people of good will”.
His Letter from a Birmingham Jail, responds to local clergy’s criticism of his confrontation of that city’s segregationist policies.
He has been told he is unduly impatient, that if he’d just wait, equal rights will appear.
He reflects, “Such an attitude stems from a tragic misconception of time, from the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used either destructively or constructively… We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co-workers with God, and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right”.
Some criticized King for breaking the law.
He responds, “One may well ask: ‘How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?’ The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that ‘an unjust law is no law at all.’
Now, what is the difference between the two? How does one determine whether a law is just or unjust?… Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust”.
You may wonder why I am writing about this here, under strategy.
Well, the best strategies are rooted in vision and values.
Charting a clear path requires slowing down, returning to first principles, and clarifying core values.
Powerful strategy, whilst necessarily responsive to noise, must rest on quiet, thoughtful, intent.
//self
I was tempted to share something inspiring, one of history’s great darkness-dispelling moments.
We could have continued with MLK and spoken of dreams. Too predictable, too easy and therefore probably not helpful.
I went back to Nelson Mandela’s famed Rivonia Trial speech, I dipped into Wangari Maathai and Miriam Tlali’s writing, and interviews with Thomas Sankara (aided by the HSRC’s invaluable series, Voices of Liberation) and yet, there is something about this moment that makes it feel facile to reach too quickly for hope.
Something here says to slow down, listen carefully, see it as it is.
My search ended with Francis Bacon’s 1597 essay ‘Of Negociating’.
He writes, “In dealing with cunning persons, we must ever consider their ends, to interpret their speeches; and it is good to say little to them, and that which they least look for. In all negociations of difficulty, a man may not look to sow and reap at once; but must prepare business and so ripen it by degrees”.
It felt appropriate. Say little. Say the unexpected. Don’t react to words but analyse intent. Be patient and intentional.
Bacon was legal counsel to Queen Elizabeth I.
On July 25, 1597, she received Polish Ambassador, Paul de Jaline.
She quickly felt he asked and presumed too much and responded with a rebuke that lives on centuries later.
She ended her censure saying “For other matters, for which time and place serve not, seeing they are many and must be considered by themselves, this you shall expect: to be certified of them by some of our councillors that shall be appointed to those matters. In the meantime, fare you well and repose yourself”.
Simply put, “This is too complex to be dealt with quickly. We will respond when we’re ready”.
There are moments when refusing to negotiate is the best move. We don’t always need to respond.
(Bacon and Elizabeth are drawn from Leadership: Essential Writings By Our Greatest Thinkers.)
///soul
My default is to positivity and taking action. They’re useful attributes that have served me well.
Their shadow, my weakness, has been a propensity to not sit with the hard facts of a moment. And so, a less generous – but fair – formulation may be that I avoid sitting with that which makes me uncomfortable.
Historically that was true. Hard lessons have taught me. I have trained myself to instead step in, to stay with the uncomfortable. Of course, the gravitational pull remains and I know my discomfort matters less than hearing what needs to be said and seeing what wants to be visible. I observe myself and choose another path.
Powerful strategy depends on it, as does a peaceful soul and a happy self.
Jim Collins calls it confronting the brutal facts.
Louis Gerstner, the CEO who turned around IBM, says strategy calls for ‘tough-minded analysis’ noting, “good strategies start with massive amounts of quantitative analysis – hard, difficult analysis that is blended with wisdom, insight, and risk taking”.
It takes courage, curiosity and compassion.
In that spirit, we turn to this extract from Teju Cole’s Tremor.
His protagonist, Tunde, a West-African-born teacher of photography at an elite American school, reflects on his reactions to serial killer Samuel Little’s portraits of his victims (a real case), asking of himself:
“When he watches police procedurals, what is he watching? He is allowing himself to be guided in certain ways that are taken as natural. It is natural to be horrified by a serial killer of women, it is natural to be disgusted by a strangler. But isn’t there some consent in being so directed, consent to a certain definition of what constitutes ‘crime,’ consent of a coerced sort to the idea that vicious loners are the worst criminals? There are other things that constitute murderous crime, things that do not trigger the same horrified fascination. There are killings carried out under the direction of men who wear suits and live in nice suburbs; killings done by men at computer terminals in nondescript facilities on the outskirts of American towns, and by women too; killings done at vast scale in the name of an economic system. Murder is not limited to merciless human hands on vulnerable human necks. Sometimes it is sufficient to have only the movement of money, the click of a button, the evocation of the legal right to pre-emptive violence. As for ‘the most prolific serial killer’: what would that even mean in a country built on genocide?”
I hope you’ve found something in these shards.
Karl
If you’re enjoying what you’re reading, please consider recommending it to others. They can sign up here. You can find our favourite quotations here.
I have space for 5 new clients from June. If you’d like to take one of those places, please contact me.