…of the different variants of workplace leaders I have encountered, none beats the “leader as weathercock”. Able to subscribe to a fixed portmanteau of values at the drop of a pen, and depending on who is seated across the conversation table from him, this variant is constantly driven to describe roseate (if often inconsistent) narratives around his achievements. The more senior this leadership type gets, the further removed from reality these stories become.
If in the workplace, “culture eats strategy for breakfast” every day, this process invariably begins as an idea in the head of each institution’s chief executive. Phrased differently, the “culture” of any organisation invariably gives voice to the values of the small number of people at the top to which the workforce looks for direction. In a qualified sense, this is the point that the idea of “the tone at the top” tries to draw a line under. Put this way, there is, of course, a chicken-and-egg quality to this reading of the matter. For the boss’ values are nearly always said, themselves, to be the result of his (and they are still a largely male cohort in these parts) acculturation.
Thus, the values which the boss projects were randomly picked up from the people, processes, and events associated with growing up ― whether at home, school, or at play with peers. And these values, in turn, now feed into the organisational forms of expression that help shape subordinates at the workplace over which he superintends. At this point, the temptation is to ask if this is not the perfect design for a vicious circle. But the more pertinent query is the one that seeks to establish what the general sentiments are that undergird the values of Nigerian bosses.
Arguably, with a concept this fluffy, opinion and instinct make up much of the resulting theorising. In my experience, a readiness to push subordinates in the path of oncoming freight trains is the dominant instinct as one reaches the rarefied heights of Nigeria Incorporated. While, in part, this reflects a national unwillingness to be personally accountable for shortcomings, it goes way beyond the boundaries of the brown-nosed boss who kisses arses up and kicks them down. It also includes bosses who insist on sharing the rewards to a department’s performance, not according to the quality of work done by subordinates but according to the boss’ estimation of each subordinate’s usefulness to his person. The perverse consequence of this being to leave high performing members of such teams unfulfilled, while richly rewarding those in the “big oga’s” good books.
…a much younger boss explained this dynamic to me. Between attitude and aptitude, he would plump for attitude all day, was how he justified it. Because, according to him, one may “mend” an employee with the right attitude but wrong aptitude. Whereas the reverse procedure involves more complex manoeuvres, when it is not well-nigh impossible.
About a decade ago, a much younger boss explained this dynamic to me. Between attitude and aptitude, he would plump for attitude all day, was how he justified it. Because, according to him, one may “mend” an employee with the right attitude but wrong aptitude. Whereas the reverse procedure involves more complex manoeuvres, when it is not well-nigh impossible. High octane performers with the wrong attitude are, apparently, a wee bit difficult to fix.
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I didn’t get it then, and I still don’t get it now. Across the table from me that day was one of the most interestingly behaved persons I have ever had the misfortune to work with. Ivy League (proper U.S. Ivy League, that is) graduate, this gentleman simply did not recognise ethical boundaries ― I’m still not sure he had a proper sense of boundaries, at all. And his plaint against attitude was simply a reluctance to admit that a subordinate ought to be able to reproach him with this fact.
We all remember that primary school classmate whose stories about his father’s car trumps all ― not just because the car is amphibious, which in the late 1960s was rare for most vehicles of assembly lines, but more because no classmate ever chanced on it. As leader, this playground fabulist is worse. Because his are no longer tales with a salience limited to the playground.
Did it matter that such a boss was going to burden the organisation with “Yes men”? Not really. In one other such organisation, the culture around the leadership cadre elevates a dedicated toilet space as the first perquisite of attaining the very senior grade. A “turdocracy”? Forgive the neologism. But few words better describe the calibre of leaders in the Nigerian space. However, of the different variants of workplace leaders I have encountered, none beats the “leader as weathercock”. Able to subscribe to a fixed portmanteau of values at the drop of a pen, and depending on who is seated across the conversation table from him, this variant is constantly driven to describe roseate (if often inconsistent) narratives around his achievements. The more senior this leadership type gets, the further removed from reality these stories become.
We all remember that primary school classmate whose stories about his father’s car trumps all ― not just because the car is amphibious, which in the late 1960s was rare for most vehicles of assembly lines, but more because no classmate ever chanced on it. As leader, this playground fabulist is worse. Because his are no longer tales with a salience limited to the playground. Personal stories told to different colleagues separately, each listener leaves an encounter with this type of leader with a different sense of him from the last visitor and from the next, and so forth. Bad enough that this kind of leader feels a need to lie all the time. Worse is that having put out these untruths for so long, they come to believe them. The workplace then exists in a never-never land between so many disparate fables.
