Freddy, meet Mac

Its a lazy, sunny Saturday afternoon. Went swimming with the kids in the morning, had upma for lunch. The rest of the family are settling into siestas. I am settling down in front of the telly, to watch Freddy Flintoff come out to bat in his last test innings, and reflecting that Flintoff is cricket's McEnroe.

Both Flintoff and McEnroe were unbelieveably gifted. They've treated us fans to some sheer magic: the Ashes in 2005, the Wimbledon finals in 1980 and 1981. Yet, especially when compared with their natural talent, both are underachievers.

Michael Atherton talks here about Flintoff's disappointing career stats. Flintoff averages 32.06 with the bat and 32.59 with the ball. The decimals show that his batting average is slightly lower than his bowling. To put that in perspective, Imran Khan averaged 37 with the bat and 22 with the ball. Botham averaged 33/28. Among Flintoff's contemporaries, Shaun Pollock comes in at 32/23. Flintoff's bowling average is about the same as Kallis; however, Kallis averages more than 50 with the bat.

Given how good Flintoff can be, especially with the ball, his returns are surprisingly meagre. Like McEnroe's seven grand slam titles.

Yet, the Flintoff we want to remember is not the Flintoff we see in the statistics, but the Flintoff who beat South Africa in 2003, who bowled this over at Edgbaston in 2005. Like the McEnroe in the mind is the one who beat Bjorn Borg in 1981.

So long, Freddy. Thanks for all the fun.

Boo Ponting and Boo Hoo Colly

When Australia won the fourth test in two and a half days, Ricky Ponting went up to the podium to receive the winning captain's magnum of champagne, and he was roundly booed by the Headingley crowd.

The was not the first time Ponting was booed this Ashes series. It started back in Cardiff. It has continued through to Headingley, despite the ECB president Giles Clarke's calls to cease and desist. The Australian captain has ignored the booing.

Nor is this the first time booing has been in the news this summer. Paul Collingwood, the then reigning England captain, spoke in a hurt, injured tone about being booed by a predominantly Indian Lord's crowd during the Twenty20 World Cup. At the subsequent India v. South Africa game at Trent Bridge, there was much sanctimonious commentary (by Jeremy Coney, I think) about how it is nicer to cheer your own team than to boo the other team. Many of my Indian friends and family cringed. Are we really the cricket world's most boorish nation?

Well, the Ashes experience suggests that English fans aren't all that different from the Indian fans. English fans will boo Australia even when England are not playing, as I discovered at the Australia v. Sri Lanka T20 game at Trent Bridge.

Expanding the frame a bit, yes it is undeniably nicer to cheer your own team than to boo the other team. But it is easy to over-steer.

Ultimately, cricket is fun because it is theatre. Banter is a part of the theatre. Like booing a villain at the pantomime is a part of the fun. There is a very fine line between banter and sledging, defined mostly by the spirit in which the words are spoken and received.

Sure, maybe the booing at Headingley and Lord's was not in the right spirit. But the English ODI captain can surely learn a thing or two about stiff upper lips from his Australian counterpart.

Going Dutch...the gezellig way

Gezellig: a useful new word to import into the English language. Or, more importantly, into Anglo-Saxon (or Tamil Brahmin) culture.

Gezellig, pronounced heh-SELL-ick, is apparently at the heart of Dutch culture. It is the spirit which animates Dutch life. It has this sense of people and space coming together in harmony. It can't be translated. It can't be defined. You know it when you see it.

Friends enjoying a picnic on a canal bank, laughing fondly, sharing a bottle of red wine - clearly gezellig. A slob wolfing down fast food as he sprints to a meeting - not so gezellig. A brown cafe in Amsterdam, panelled in wood that has been darkened by generations of smokers - clearly gezellig. A formica-themed dentist's office - not so gezellig. A ramble in the woods with a big shaggy dog - clearly gezellig. Competitive rock-climbling - not un-worthy, but not so gezellig.
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Disclaimer: My knowledge of gezellig is not through first-hand exposure to Dutch culture. I found the word in this free magazine I picked up at the Paris airport.

Dumbo, the great educator

Psychologists think the ability to delay gratification is central to academic achievement, and more generally, to emotional intelligence.

Consider this Stanford psychology study: four year old children were given the option of a treat right now, say, a marshmallow, or waiting for two marshmallows. Years later, the children who were able to wait had better academic performance (SAT scores) and life outcomes (stronger friendships, fewer behavioural problems) than their more impatient cohorts.

Given this evidence, training children to delay gratification ought to be a central goal of education. The question is how?

The answer: take them to Disneyland.

Last weekend, I witnessed hundreds of children aged between four and twelve stand in line uncomplainingly for over an hour, on a hot, sultry Paris afternoon, to ride Dumbo, The Flying Elephant. The ride itself lasts between two and three minutes. The ride is pretty cool, the rider can make Dumbo fly higher or lower by toggling a little lever. Nonetheless, this was an impressive display of delayed gratification.

If this is what today's youngsters are capable of, it bodes well for the future of civilization.

Play up! play up! and play the game!

There is a breathless hush at the close tonight -
Ten to make and a match to win -
A bumping pitch and a blinding light,
An hour to play and the last man in.

And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat,
Or the selfish hope of a season's fame,
But his captain's hand on his shoulder smote
Play up! play up! and play the game!

My family's primary religion is cricket. I grew up with these words echoing inside my head, reminding me that cricket is our spiritual calling.

When I recited this poem at my grandparent's dinner parties, or at junior school elocution competitions in Madras, I was vaguely aware that there was more to the poem. But I stopped the recitation at this point. That was probably a good thing. In the Victorian original the next stanzas go:

The sand of the desert is sodden red -
Red with the wreck of a square that broke
The gatling's jammed and the colonel dead,
And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.
The river of death has brimmed its banks,
And England's far, and Honour a name,
But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks -
"Play up! Play up! And play the game!"

This is the word that year by year,
While in her place the school is set,
Every one of her sons must hear,
And none that hears it dare forget.
This they all with a joyful mind
Bear through life like a torch in flame,
And falling fling to the host behind -
"Play up! Play up! And play the game!"

Jeremy Paxman quotes this poem, Vitai Lampada, in The English. Paxman's take on the poem:

It is hard not to be carried along in its rhythm, even if there is something so breathtakingly stupid about the poem that it is hard to imagine how on earth it could ever have been taken seriously. Yet, in the balmy days before August 1914, the idea that life was essentially a version of the Game seemed almost plausible.

"The sand of the desert is sodden red, red with the wreck of a square that broke", is a reference to the seige of Khartoum, a colonial misadventure which ended with the entire garrison at Khartoum slaughtered and General Gordon, the British officer in charge of the garrison, beheaded by the Mahdi army.

And that is somehow like a game of cricket? Paxman is spot on: breathtakingly stupid.



Reminds me of Lance Klusener. He was asked how he stayed so calm after South Africa crashed out of the 1999 World Cup semi-finals in one of the greatest games ever. Klusener said "nobody died".

Good perspective. Must remember next time India are playing.

Have you ever thunk about thoughting?

Management is justly famous for doing strange things to the English language. Consider: option value, hedge, synergy, self-actualization, kaizen, off-shoring, intrapreneurism, portfolio, fudge, strategize, ideate, projectize, functionality, robustify, core competencies...

Plus two great new words to add to that lexicon. Both are creative conjugations of that ancient and innocent verb, to think, which can be morphed with modern technology into “thoughting” and “thunk”. I learnt both these words at a recent (and very good) seminar with Jack and Carol Weber at Darden.

“Thoughting” actually is a useful word; I believe it was coined by Jack and Carol. It is meant to describe the unsolicited thoughts that endlessly stream through every consciousness. This unsolicited stream is completely different from the disciplined, structured, methodical thinking needed to, say, prove a mathematical theorem. Or to professionally evaluate a business partner’s performance. Yet, this unsolicited stream often intrudes on formal, methodical thought, and sometimes subverts it.

Giving this formless stream of thought a distinct name, thoughting, to distinguish it from formal thought, thinking, is quite useful. A distinct name helps the mind switch out of the thoughting-mode into the thinking-mode as needed.

Maybe when Krishna told Arjuna to free his mind from the shackles of माया (maya) he was telling Arjuna to stop the thoughting and start thinking. माया is often translated as illusion. Maybe thoughting, the mindless chatter that clutters the consciousness, would be a better translation.

Maybe the meditative practice of emptying the mind is about stopping the thoughting. ध्यान (dhyana), the Sanskrit root of the word Zen, could be understood as freedom from thoughting. So the consciousness is released to prove the theorem, or evaluate the business partner. A mind that is full of thoughting will struggle to hit that little red ball hurtling towards the soft tissues at ninety miles per hour, with just a hint of reverse swing.

This famous story from Zen Flesh Zen Bones might be about thoughting:

Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1869-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen. Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor's cup full and then kept on pouring.

The professor watched the overflow until he could no longer restrain himself. "It is overfull. No more will go in!"

"Like this cup", Nan-in said, "you are too full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen until you first empty your cup?"

Skilled thinking can't happen without knowledge, one has to know some math to solve the theorem. Thoughting, however, gets in the way of thinking.



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“Thunk” is not just an uncultured way of saying thought. It is typically used in the context of another management buzzword that includes the word thinking.

Let’s say you have a high-powered corporate mandate to do "customer thinking". This means building or modifying products and processes so they are easy for customers to use. Once this work has been done, the said product or process has been "customer thunk".

The same conjugation works for "possibility thinking", which means creative problem solving, understood as an attitude rather than as a technique. When this "possibility thinking" exercise has been completed, the business itself has been "possibility thunk".

What I love most about thunk are its poetic possibilities:

The CEO was in a funk
His stock options had turned to junk
So to the consultant he quietly slunk
His business processes were customer thunk
His annual bonus went up by a chunk
And he celebrated by styling his hair like a punk

Its surprisingly difficult to come up with positive words ending in unk. Sunk, bunk, dunk…. nothing uplifting or celebratory.

Waugh: The Class Act

Is Ponting an unworthy successor to Steve Waugh? Or are they really peas from a pod, crude and petty sledgers, with Waugh smelling a little better only because he won more often? My friend Shukles got me thinking about this a couple of days ago, when he suggested that Ponting was no worse than Steve Waugh.

Consider the case for Steve Waugh:

- He found the time to support Udayan, a home for disadvantaged children in Barrackpore, Calcutta

- Waugh found the time to take his team to Gallipoli, to honour the ANZAC soldiers who fell there during WWI, starting off a little tradition

- He taught his team to enjoy playing in India, and more generally the sub-continent. Approaching the tour as a fun experience, rather than as a punishment posting probably had a big part to play in their improved results. One of my favourite photos from Waugh's autobiography is of his team, wearing their lurid yellow uniforms and with their backs to the camera, staring mesmerized at the Taj Mahal

- He encouraged Ed Smith, then a colleague at Kent, to write about what it is like to be a county pro. This is one of my favourite books about contemporary cricket

- He mourned the game's loss when Zimbabwe's Neil Johnson retired after a scintillating World Cup in 1999, including a century against Australia, because he needed to earn a living. He made a plea to the cricket community to support the game in Zimbabwe, because the game was poorer if a player of Johnson's quality could not play. For this, Sunil Gavaskar described Waugh as not just a great player, but a great leader of men. BTW, Gavaskar is no reflexive Aussie supporter.

I couldn't Google-up a link to Waugh's comments about Neil Johnson. It stuck in my memory because of Johnson's amazing personal story. Johnson was a superstar at seventeen, and a has-been at twenty. The South African team management (rightly) preferred Lance Klusener and Shaun Pollock to Neil Johnson for that all-rounder slot. Yet, he hung on to his dream, played for Zimbabwe, and got his revenge on the biggest stage of all when he single-handedly beat a South African team that included Klusener and Pollock in the 1999 World Cup, before riding off into the sunset.

Could a cussed captain have been made to look like a hero by a good spin-doctor? Some moments, like Udayan and Gallipoli, could have been stage managed, though they reflect well on Waugh even if those associations were prompted by an image-consultant. But the Ed Smith and Neil Johnson stories would have been hard for a spin-doctor to fabricate. Looking at the whole rather than at the parts, the gestalt, I still am left with the impression that Waugh was a genuinely gracious guy. He understood that he was a part of something bigger than himself.

If so, why did he sledge? In his autobiography he says "sledging invariably occured when a player was frustrated at his poor form and wanted to show how much he was trying and how much he was annoyed with his performance. It is a cheap way of getting attention...". In Waugh's framework, he did not sledge. He tried to engineer a collapse in his opponent's confidence, mental disintegration, which is a part of the game.

He famously tried to bring about Saurav Ganguly's mental disintegration. Ganguly did not disintegrate, and Waugh now talks about "an ongoing verbal battle between Saurav and me, which belied an underlying admiration for each other... I saw in Saurav a committed individual who wanted to inject some toughness and combativeness into a side that had often tended to roll over and expose a soft underbelly".

In Waugh's world, a captain who tries hard enough is a captain who tries to engineer the mental disintegration of his opponents. Nothing personal or disrespectful. It's just part of the game. Which is why Steve Waugh is such a hard act for Ponting to follow.

Spiritual Intelligence and corporate life

कर्मण्ये  वाधिकारस्ते  मा  फलेषु  कदाचन
मा  कर्मफलहेतुर  भूर  मा  ते संगोस्त्व  अकर्मणि

These words from the Bhagavad Gita were first spoken by Lord Krishna to Arjuna at Kurukshetra. They roughly translate to: you contol your actions, but not their more remote consequences. So take the remote consequences off your mind, act, and fulfill your sacred destiny.

These words were also the theme of a corporate leadership development program I was at earlier this week. A bunch of successful and well-compensated executives spoke to us developees about how leadership is about service, about having a bias for action, and not obsessing about moving up the corporate ladder. Absolutely. Following the blockbuster success of Emotional Intelligence, Amazon is now selling a book on Spiritual Intelligence.

Yeah, right…but this program was not naïve. It recognized that the developees cared about money. After all, these were people in corporate jobs. The program advised setting very specific goals on how much wealth one wanted to build.

This advice, from Jack Weber at the Darden School in Virginia, was based on an interesting longitudinal study done by Harvard Business School. The study sampled a class of HBS MBAs at graduation. It asked the graduates to rate how much they cared about money on a scale of 1-10. It also asked them how much they thought their net worth would be in 5, 10 and 15 years. The answer to the second question could also be “don’t know”. The study then went back and measured the net worth of these graduates in 5, 10 and 15 years. The finding was that the first question had no predictive power: the MBAs all cared about making money. The second question was a strong predictor of future net worth, with the people who didn’t know what they would be worth performing even worse than those who had put down modest targets. As an aside, I would love to know if the students with the highest wealth expectations also had the highest variance in wealth outcomes, because of having made lower probability bets (I couldn’t locate this study through googling).

A third perspective on careers that emerged came not from the faculty but from a fellow developee, chatting after work. Her boss had told her, “Our company is an ocean with many currents running through it. The key to success is to find a current that will become as big as the Gulf Stream, and to ride it.” This makes even more sense if company were replaced by industry or society. Some realpolitick here: how does one respond to mundane work that moves the company forward, but is unlikely to grow into a career-enhancing Gulf Stream?

Maybe staying sane is about balancing these perspectives. Or maybe it is about these elements coming together: ride the Gulf Stream to get wealthy, which enables the generosity of spirit needed to think in terms of मा कर्मफलहेतुर भूर.

There but for the grace of you go I

Came across this story in the New Yorker, a profile of a liberal Iranian economist called Mohammed Tabibian. Has stayed in memory because Iran, seen through Tabibian's eyes, reminds me so much of India.

Here are some nuggets that I really liked:

- Tabibian speaks with a lucidity and directness that is startling in a culture marked by allusiveness and elaborate courtesy

- In Iran the spectrum of economic thought, Tabibian joked, "runs from left to left". The so-called convervatives... talk of redistributing Iran's wealth, not of re-structuring its economy

- "The common morality was that if the rich give a part of their wealth to the poor, then the poor will be helped out. Many days and nights, in my imagination and daydreaming, I distributed the wealth of my family to the poor in my neighbourhood. Always my calculation came to the same conculsion: that such an imaginary scheme, even if it happens, makes us poor and the neighbourhood not much better off"

- Tabibian is not bothered by the negative example (of free markets run amok) unfolding in the West. "We are on two different sides of the spectrum. You need more regulation. We need less regulation and government intervention"

- The senior Iranian clergy at Qom "were nice people, gentle people, very concerned about morality and things to come from the other life". Their economic presriptions, however, were vanishingly vague: society should be prosperous, people should not be greedy

- After the Revolution, the Central Bank had only one clear priority, to abolish the interest rate which was deemed un-Islamic. And yet, no matter which policy the Central Bank pursued, interest quickly reappeared. A bank branch in Tehran would place a red car on its roof and announce that all depositers would be entered into a lottery for that car - a strategy that allowed the bank to pay a variable rate of return on its deposits. Bankers even found ayatollahs who would issue fatwas in support of their schemes

- The revolution had made education available to more Iranians. But there was no role for these people in an economy that depended not on productive industries but on the dispensation of oil-rents

All the Shah’s Men?

Was Barack Obama’s tough talk on Iran the kiss of death for the recent protests?

Great question, because it opens up a pivotal passage in history that needs to be resolved before sanity returns to the Middle East. I didn’t know about this until I read All the Shah’s Men. This book, a breeze at 230 pages of comfortably large fonts, is a must read for anyone who has been following the news coming out of Iran over the last few weeks.

The key to understanding Iran, and why any association with America and/or Britain is so toxic in Iranian politics, goes back to 1953.



This was when the CIA sponsored a coup to unseat the secular, liberal, democratically elected Prime Minister Mohammed Mossadegh, and install Shah Reza Pahlavi in his place. The point of the coup was to retain western control of the oil fields and refineries at Abadan. Mohammed Mossadegh planned to nationalize these oil fields, which were owned and operated by the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company (now known as British Petroleum).

The coup worked for a quarter century, until the Shah was overthrown in 1979 by a people’s revolution that morphed into the Islamic Republic. These events, not much talked about in today's western media, are vividly remembered in the Middle East.

Interestingly, America’s Democrat leaders are well aware of this history:

- Barack Obama referred to the 1953 coup during his historic speech at Cairo University, “For many years, Iran has defined itself in part by its opposition to my country, and there is in fact a tumultuous history between us. In the middle of the Cold War, the United States played a role in the overthrow of a democratically elected Iranian government”.

- John Kerry wrote this op-ed piece in the New York Times, “The last thing we should do is give Mr. Ahmadinejad an opportunity to evoke the 1953 American-sponsored coup, which ousted Prime Minister Mohammed Mossadegh and returned Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlavi to power. Doing so would only allow him to cast himself as a modern-day Mossadegh, standing up for principle against a Western puppet”.

Some other interesting nuggets from All the Shah's Men:

- Kermit Roosevelt Jr., Teddy Roosevelt's grandson, was the CIA agent who engineered the 1953 coup

- Norman Schwarzkopf Sr. spoke to the exiled Shah to convince him to return to Iran and take power. His son was the Norman Schwarzkopf Jr. who commanded American forces in Operation Desert Storm in 1991

- Winston Churchill was the British Prime Minister when Mossadegh started moves to nationalize Anglo-Iranian. This felt personal to Churchill, the Admiralty man. Abadan had fueled the Royal Navy through two world wars. Churchill immediately reached out to America for help, and got nowhere with President Harry Truman and Secretary of State Dean Acheson. The plot to oust Mossadegh really started getting traction when the Eisenhower administration brought the Dulles brothers to the center of power.

Flying through Dulles airport in Washington DC reminds me of the story of Mohammed Mossadegh.

Eoin Morgan and the tragedy of Greame Hick

As I start this post, Ireland have restricted Sri Lanka to 28-2 in 6 overs, after Sri Lanka had scored over 60 in the first 6 against Australia, West Indies and Pakistan. Jayawardene and Jayasuriya are just starting to power away from the Fighting Irish.

I usually back Lanka above all teams except India, but today my heart is with the underdogs. The Irish amateurs playing for pride, taking on the galacticos. If only... if only quality players from Ireland, good enough to make a living playing cricket, were actually playing for Ireland.

Eoin Morgan played for England earlier this year. Admittedly, his only game was England's famous defeat to the Netherlands at Lord's in the opening game of this Twenty20 World Cup. But still, he is good enough to play for England. His first class average is better than either the Irish captain William Porterfield, or their star batsman Niall O'Brien. Ed Joyce is another England international who might have been playing for Ireland today.

How much of a difference would a couple of quality batsmen, or at least better batsmen, make to the Irish run chase today?

The greatest tragedy of this sort was Greame Hick. Playing for England, he was a disappointment. Playing for Zimbabwe, alongside the Flower brothers, Dave Houghton and Eddo Brandes, he might have made the difference between a team capable of making noble gestures and a team capable of winning.



In Hick's time, maybe playing international cricket was the only credible way of making a decent living as a player. Maybe playing county cricket for a lifetime was not ambition enough.

Today, has the IPL changed that dynamic? Hopefully it will. But this generation of the Fighting Irish will have to win with the talent they've got.

Juno

Juno is an outstanding film. It's funny, quirky and cuts as deep as you want it to. Watch it.

This is an old-fashioned movie, a movie with a plot. A monosyllabic dork who runs around in golden shorts gets a sixteen year old pregnant. She is going to have the baby. Complicated situation needs resolution, and that keeps the story-line rolling.

But is that what the movie is about? Naw. In almost all movies worth watching, plot is nothing more than a device that serves to showcase character. What makes the movie is Juno, the title character, brilliantly and authentically played by the twenty year old Canadian actor Ellen Page.

Without giving too much away...Juno is naive, mature, perceptive, cynical, trusting, would love to be wooed by a jock, loves her own dork, is spunky, vulnerable, really into cutting edge music, thinks chemistry lab is kind of cool, just doesn't get her tone-deaf parents, has wonderful parents...she is real.

When Charlie Brown picks up the Little Red Haired Girl's pencil, notices it has been chewed, and beatifically declares "She's human", maybe he is discovering that she is a bit like Juno.

Ideally, Juno, I ain't looking to analyse you, categorize you, or define you, or confine you, all I really want to do is, baby, be friends with you.

But...but Diablo already defined you. By calling you Juno. Not Jane, or Janet, or Jennifer, but Juno. Juno, wife of Jupiter, mother of Mars, Regina of Rome, guardian of the Empire's finances, Lucina (she who brings children to light), spiritual heir to both Hera and Diana. The goddess is back.

Why the IPL works

The IPL, and more generally the Twenty20 format, is producing quality cricket. Commentators who liken the IPL to exhibition cricket or the Harlem Globetrotters are being both unfair and blind. They are simply not observing closely enough.

I'm typing this up the night before the 2009 finals. I just watched my team, the Chennai Super Kings, lose to the Bangalore Royal Challengers. Both teams played hard and produced moments that were as good as anything I've seen in tests. Consider:

- Dravid's immaculate straight drive to welcome Jakati into the attack. It was worth watching the game just to see that one shot

- Murali trapping Dravid LBW bowling around the wicket and straightening the ball into the stumps

- Virat Kohli dancing down to the pitch of the ball and lofting Murali over long on for a match-deciding sixer (the shot in the picture above)

- Parthiv Patel anticipating a short ball from Kallis and upper-cutting him over the slips for four

- Vinay Kumar frustrating Dhoni by bowling very full and outside the off at the death (exactly what Dhoni had Zaheer and Ishant do the the Aussies in the Nagpur test)

Despite the cheerleaders, despite the horrible uniforms, this is the real thing: top quality players competing to win.

Of course, nothing can match test cricket for genuinely memorable drama. But I would have no heartburn about Twenty20 entirely replacing the ODI format.

More generally, sport that has been seriously dumbed-down doesn't seem to sell.

An interesting (and heartening) case in point was the failure of an American Football league, the XFL. It was promoted Vince McMohan, the guy behind WWF wrestling. The idea was to compete with the NFL, despite having second rate players, by having more skimpily clad cheerleaders and morphing the rules to create more "action".

The venture was possibly inspired by the belief that "nobody ever went broke by under-estimating the intelligence of the American public". Well, Mr. McMohan didn't go broke, but he did manage to lose $72 million.

Lord of the Rings: The Appendices

This is the Tolkien trip for the real Tolkien fans. I noted before that the movie was good, but left an old-time Tolkien fan like me a touch unsatisfied, like having eaten half a meal. Now, having watched the extensive appendices which come with the DVD box set, even I am sated, chock full of Tolkien fundas to inflict on the innocent bystander. Here is a sampling of the nuggets that made the appendices totally worth watching: - Rohan is modelled on Saxon culture. The motifs on the armour, the design of the helmets, they are meant to look like artefacts from the famous Saxon burial sites at Sutton Hoo. Tolkien was a professor of Anglo-Saxon, the culture which produced Beowulf, and deeply regretted the loss of a “native” English mythology with the coming of the Normans. Rohan was his way of imagining how Saxon culture may have developed if the Battle of Hastings had been won - The tale of Beren and Luthien, of the elven princess who gives up immortality to wed a man, is incidental to Frodo’s quest. But it is probably the most intensely personal element of the Lord of the Rings. Tolkien’s grave refers to himself as John Ronald Reuel Tolkien Beren, and to his wife Edith, buried alongside, as Edith Mary Tolkien Luthien - The original movie script had Arwen fighting alongside Aragorn at Helm’s Deep. Liv Tyler spent months training to use a sword. Several fight sequences with Arwen were filmed. Then, there was a leak, the bloggers found out, and revolted. They accused Liv Tyler of betraying Tolkien because she wanted to play Xena, the Warrior Princess. The online vitriol was so intense that the bloggers won. The elven host finally showed up at Helm’s Deep without Arwen. Liv Tyler was clearly very upset by this, but it was the right outcome. Well done, bloggers - On the shoot, Viggo Mortensen had the hots for the Rohirrim girls. Not for the gorgeous Eowyn. But for the soldiers who rode with Eomer. They’re babes in drag. Apparently, Viggo was really into these lithe, lissom, helmeted ladies, wearing beards and carrying spears. This was gleefully reported by Dominic Monaghan, who plays Merry, and later denied by Viggo - At the party to celebrate victory at Helm’s Deep, Legolas drinks Gimli under the table. That’s what happens in the movie. In real life, Orlando Bloom passes out at the merest whiff of alcohol. In Dominic Monaghan’s words “Orlando is so pure, his breath smells of flowers”. The appendices have enough room to acknowledge, and even enrich, Tolkien’s vast Middle Earth. And they also open up another vast world, the world of Peter Jackson’s film project. Watching the appendices, you’re an insider to one of the biggest films ever made. If you’re the sort of person who has ever dreamt about wearing an elven cloak and canoeing down the Anduin with the fellowship, the appendices are a must watch.

Dissociative Identity Leadership

Companies are like people. Other things being equal, companies which do well believe in themselves. They carry vivid images of victory, they fiercely belive success is their destiny. On the other hand, companies which fret about failure usually succumb to the fielding flu and fail.

Yet, the opposite is also true. My friend Greg Pye, the famous and profound management philosopher, writes here about the importance of staring into the abyss and looking for ways in which things can fail. This is an essential part of planning, both for putting defences (or plan Bs) in the right place and in setting expectations.

Balancing these necessary evils, faith and scepticism, is one of the hardest and most universal problems of leadership. Every healthy organization needs this split personality, or dissociative identity.



The simplest solution is to locate these faculties, and the associated sub-cultures, in different departments. This works fine in organizations of thousands of people, despite the friction between departments. But it is hard to do on a smaller scale, say at a cricket club or on a film crew.

The Six Thinking Hats technique popularized by Edward do Bono is also useful. It involves containing the sceptical imagining of failure within a contained area, called Black Hat thinking, before moving on to creative Green Hat thinking or optimistic Yellow Hat thinking.

My discontent with the Six Thinking Hats is with the assumption that faith - that sense of destiny - is the product of thought. It is not. It is an emotion. It is produced by thought, sure, but also by a whole lot else. I find that the more useful way of balancing faith and scepticism is to remain rooted in the emotional state of faith, even while working through the cognitive process of scepticism.

PS: John Kotter essentially wishes away this problem by labeling the faculty of faith as Leadership and the faculty of scepticism as Management. This is worse than useless, because "leaders" are paid a lot more than "managers". This tilts the playing field away from scepticism, and exagerrates the natural cognitive bias towards optimism.

PPS: The original title for this post was Schizophrenic Leadership. But wikipedia tells me that, despite the etymology, Schizophrenia is not about split personalities. It is about distorted perceptions of reality, typically hallucinations. People with split personalities have a dissolute identity disorder.

Another characteristic of great leaders... learning all the time :)

Fielding Flu

The swine flu, that terrible, dangerous contagion, resulted in my trip to a “summit” in the US being called off. Hence, I could veg out in front of the TV yesterday evening and watch the spread of an even more terrible, dangerous contagion: the fielding flu.

Chennai Super Kings managed to drop four easy catches, and fluff a run-out in a manner that would have embarrassed swine-herds, and yet beat the Deccan Chargers. Kolkata Knight Riders had a similar epidemic today (though with a less happy match-result).

The interesting thing about these drops is that they are not random. If the last few chances that went to hand were dropped, the likelihood that the next chance will be dropped is significantly higher*. Fielding flu spreads through exactly the same mechanism described in my previous post: fielders carry a mental image of a colleague grassing the ball, and the subconscious brings that image into reality.

Paradoxically, a strong team ethos may actually make teams more vulnerable* to this contagion. Players who sincerely identify with each other may carry a more vivid mental image of a friend dropping a catch.
__________



*this is a testable statistical proposition and a wonderful opportunity for ambitious young cricket statisticians looking to emulate the great Bill James

Dangerous Safety Signs

Bikers on twisty mountain roads should carry mental images of stability and control. They should not carry mental images of spectacular crashes. These images make the rider more likely to crash the bike, yet these are exactly the images that the road sign above is trying to evoke.

This is a simple truth that sports coaches know. A good cricket coach does not tell a batter to not fish outside the off stump. He tells the batter to hit through the line. The subconscious does not work with logical operators like not. It simply brings the mental images it holds into reality.

But the people who design signage for roads don't seem to know this. With tragic consequences...



Seriously, this is a completely testable proposition.

Show amateur pilots video footage of gruesome crashes of planes similar to what they fly. Put them in a flight simulator. Ask them to do complex manouveres. Measure their crash rate. Compare with a control group which was shown footage of smooth, successful flights.

And presto...we now have scientific evidence with which to prosecute the road sign chaps for manslaughter. Or at least save a few lives.

On Leadership

I will admit to a blush of embarrassment at blogging about leadership; on no other topic have so many people expended so many words to say so little.

However, having attended a leadership development workshop recently, the group I was with came up with a compact definition of leadership that feels useful enough to share.

What is the purpose of leadership: to get people to do things that they otherwise would not

What do leaders do: they listen, speak and centre

In this context, “centre” has a specific meaning. It means the psyche is located at the centre of the body. A centred leader is calm and purposeful. Leaders don’t rage or panic, except intentionally.

What I like about this definition is that it is profoundly situational. Good leadership is defined almost entirely by context. I find this situational take on leadership a lot more useful than the definitions in the standard readings.

Consider this much quoted article by John Kotter, which makes a distinction between management and leadership: “management involves planning and budgeting, leadership involves setting direction”.

This is sometimes true. There are situations where the ship is running well, but doesn’t know where to go. In which case, it is important to choose a destination.

There are also many situations when the desired direction is bleeding obvious. The hard part is to actually get the ship to move in that direction. At times like this, the task of leadership is management. The truth is often closer to "amateurs talk strategy, real generals talk logistics".

Walking Lothlorien

Clumpy boots, hiking staff, Strider-style stubble
Limestone cliffs, dry stone walls, the tumult of tumbling water,
Trout hold still against the stream,
Spaniels splash right in;
Pentagenarians sandwich together,
Gates shut on grazing sheep.
Wooded slopes, sun spangled meadows, Numenorean ruins,
Ice cream in the parking lot,
Lothlorien;
Without the ring.



The change in the style of this blog, unfortunate or otherwise, was prompted by a hike along the river Wye in the Peak District



Down Monsal Dale, up Brushfield, past the Priestcliffe Lees, down to Litton Mill, through Miller Dale and Cressbrook, and back up to Monsal Head



Sunshine on the water...naw, John Denver doesn't fit the Tolkienian mood



Magic wrought by the Numenoreans, when Middle-Earth was still young



All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost…
Renewed shall be the sword that was broken,
The crownless shall again be king

Cherokee Medicine

"The Cherokee lands furnished herbs to treat every known illness – until the Europeans came". This claim is from a tourist brochure I came across in North Carolina, still home to the Cherokee Nation.

Herbs to treat every known illness? A strong claim by any standards. Yet I read that claim humbly, respectfully, sympathetically. It is an assertion of Cherokee pride, an assertion worth making after the horrors of native American history. Is there a crime even worse than genocide? The annihilation of an entire civilization?

That respectful, sympathetic moment stuck in memory when I realized that I would never extend the same courtsey to the other sort of Indians, Asian-Indians like myself. This, despite the many terrible things that have been done to us through history.

When a fellow Indian seriously claims that our ancient culture had herbs to treat every known illness (this happens astonishingly often), my irritated instinct is to refer him to Ben Goldacre's excellent book/ blog on Bad Science, and ask to see the data from randomized, double blind, placebo controlled clinical trials.

Why the difference?

I guess I just can't think about India as a Wounded Civilization any more.

Lord of the Rings. At the Racsos

This is to announce a special Racso award for the worst moments in the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy. Brought to you by Moonballs from Planet Earth. 

The nominees are: - Gandalf and Saruman. The fight in Orthanc, when the venerable wizards biffed each other's flowing robes and beards into a terrible tangle - 

The last homely house. Rivendell, with its kitschy soft-focus shots and air-brushed effects, looked like something from a Thomas Kinkade painting - 

The paths of the dead. The avalanche of skulls that nearly trapped Strider, Legolas and Gimli inside the Haunted Mountain. This could have been a solemn moment in an action-packed film - 

Arwen and Aragorn. The kiss on a bridge in Rivendell. Of course, it had to be in soft-focus. Why was this limp love-story promoted from the appendix to the main film? More screen time for Liv Tyler is not reason enough - 

Uruk Hai births. The slime-covered creatures emerging from the breeding pits under Orthanc. Some things are better imagined than seen, even in a film 

And the Racso goes to Gandalf and Saruman biffing it out in Orthanc. Thunderous applause. Nothing can beat Saruman and Gandalf twirling each other around Orthanc for sheer goofiness, especially in a film that clearly cares about production values.

Lord of the Rings. At the Oscars

This is to announce a special Oscar for the best moments in the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy. Brought to you by Moonballs from Planet Earth. The nominees are: - Minas Tirith. The seven-circled white city on a hill, topped with the Tower of Ecthilion glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, whose fighting men wore breastplates wrought with the White Tree of Gondor - Lighting the beacons. The bonfire relay across the snowy mountain-tops that brought the Rohirrim thundering south to fight alongside Gondor - Edoras. The setting for Meduseld, hall of Theoden son of Thengel, Lord of the Mark of Rohan. "Before the mountains of the south: white tipped and streaked with black...a tumbled mountain-mass with one tall peak stood like a sentinel a lonely height...set upon a green terrace, there stands aloft a great hall of men. And it seems to my eyes that it is thatched with gold. The light of it shines far over this land..." - Faramir's charge on Osgiliath. The futile cavalry charge Faramir led on an occupied Osgiliath, while Pippin sang at Lord Denathor's sumptuous lunch - Escape from the mines of Moria. The vaulted, crumbling staircase through flaming nothingness that led the Fellowship to the Bridge of Khazad Dum, where Gandalf battled the Balrog And the Oscar goes to...Faramir's charge on Osgiliath. Thunderous applause. All the nominations, the value-add in going from the book to the movie, are about visualization. The film stayed faithful to Tolkien's words, and yet visualized these scenes with a vividness and beauty that is far beyond my own imagination, even as a committed Tolkien fan. The unsung heroes of the film are probably Alan Lee and John Howe, two artists who have been visualizing scenes from Tolkien for decades, long before this film was even conceived. Peter Jackson had the good sense to collaborate with these outstanding old pros. Faramir's charge on Osgiliath wins the Oscar for being more than visualization. This scene is implied rather than described in the book. The movie takes this raw material, and builds it up into an emotional crescendo so intense that I almost dare not imagine it. By rights, it should have crumbled under its own weight. And yet, it works. Well done. Thanks PJ. Blog readers and Tolkien fans, please do chip in with your own Oscar nominees.

Lord of the Rings. On film?

I recently re-watched the Lord of the Rings Trilogy on DVD, and thoroughly enjoyed the spectacle, all nine hours of it. Yet I came away with a nagging sense that something was missing. And having mulled it over, here is my take.

Superficially, the Lord of the Rings is about Frodo’s hero-quest to destroy the ring of power. At this level, Frodo’s quest is no more or less compelling than that of Luke Skywalker, Clark Kent, Eragon, Zorro, Captain Kirk or Harry Potter. What makes Lord of the Rings special is the richness, the detail, the layered folk lore and the resonances of the vast Middle Earth within which Tolkien sets Frodo’s hero-quest.

Clearly the hero-quest matters. Anyone who ever picked up the Silmarillion was already a Tolkien fan. But what differentiates Tolkien from mere mortals is the texture and the staggering scale of the Middle Earth he imagined.

When the book was translated into the movie the balance shifted away from the folk lore and resonances of Middle Earth, towards the driving action of Frodo’s hero-quest. Film, even nine hours of film, doesn’t have much room for discursive reflection. Something was necessarily lost.

Some of this loss is obvious. Parts of the book have just been edited out. Leaving out Tom Bombadil and his wife Goldberry, daughter of the river Withywindle, was sacrilege to many old-time Tolkien fans. There is no room either for Radagast the Brown, the wizard steeped in the lore of wild animals, or for Gil Galad the elven king, of whom the harpers sadly sing. One would never know from the movie that Pippin’s Took clan had a reputation unusual behaviour, perhaps because a Took ancestor may have married a fairy. When Sam sees an oliphaunt, he has no time to put his hands behind his back and “speak poetry”, to trot out the fireside rhyme about oliphaunts he learnt back in the Shire.

A more subtle loss also runs through passages that were amplified in the movie.

Consider Anduril, Aragon’s sword. The sword is a big part of the movie. It is shown in the first scene, slicing the ring of Sauron’s hand. The movie introduces new scenes starring Anduril, like when Arwen and Aragon share a special moment over the broken blade, and when Elrond presents Aragon with the re-forged sword on the eve of battle (Aragon leaves Rivendell carrying Anduril in the book). Yet, the meaning of Anduril is overwhelmed by the urgency and tumult of war all around; the sword remains just a weapon.

Reading the book, I had time for my own imagination to work on Anduril, to transform Anduril from a weapon into a talisman. I knew that Boromir had come to Rivendell because he heard a voice saying:

Seek for the sword that was broken
In Imladris it lies…
For Isildur’s bane shall waken
And the Halfling forth shall stand.

I could let the rhythms of Bilbo’s little poem to Aragon ring in my ears:

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost…
Renewed shall be the sword that was broken,
The crownless shall again be king.

I had time to understand that Aragon is Elendil’s heir because he is the man who wields Elendil’s sword. A great sword forged by elvensmiths can’t be handled by just anybody. The sword chooses its wielder, and in so doing, defines the wielder’s destiny. I simply wouldn’t have understood that if I had watched the movie first.



That said, if something was lost, something was also created. There were scenes in the movie which were way more powerful than anything I’d imagined before. More about that in my next post.

Looking back, I am very fortunate to have experienced Lord of the Rings in three different mediums, in the right sequence. First, as a story told by a favourite aunt to the children in the family, second, as a summer holidays’ reading along with my cousins (competitively exchanging cool Tolkien trivia), third, as a big-budget film.

The only other works I’ve experienced in roughly the same media, in the same sequence, are the great Indian epics the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. Am I comparing Peter Jackson to Peter Brook? Or to Ramanand Sagar?

Atonement

Within minutes of starting Atonement, I had transcended time and gender and stepped into Briony Tallis’ skin. I knew her: her vanity, modesty, self-absorption, idealism. I felt her intoxication, the acuteness of her need. I was in thrall. This clearly was outstanding fiction.

But then, while surfacing for a breath, I made the mistake of reading the blurb on the back cover. The blurb hinted at a sad story. It talked about “Robbie and Cecilia will have crossed a boundary they had not even imagined at its start. Briony will have…committed a crime for which she will spend the rest of her life trying to atone”.

My credit-crunch wearied soul had no appetite for more sadness. For instance, I have no intention of reading A Thousand Splendid Suns, however well it is written. So I put Atonement down and moved on to the (mediocre) consolations of Eragon.

Fortunately, Atonement remained in the stack of books on my bedside table. I picked it up again, and on this second go, I couldn’t put it down. And, best of all, it is not a sad story. I just finished the last chapter, and I was standing on my chair and cheering as I read the words

Here’s the beginning of love at the end of our travail
So farewell,kind friends, as into the sunset we sail.

Or more accurately, despite finishing the last chapter on a transatlantic flight, my spirit was standing and cheering.

I haven’t seen the movie. I know Keira Knightly is in the film, and she could only play Cecilia. I let myself imagine Keira’s face on Cecilia, and that worked fine. Good casting.

But how would this book work on film? The tension in the book is between reality, and another reality that might have been. In a book, that alternative reality can be hinted at, and the imagination will do the rest. In a movie, the imagination does not have the time to conjure up an alternative reality. Mind-states, or streams of consciousness, which are created so precisely in this book, rarely communicate on screen. Recreating a period only goes so far. Where will the narrative tension that drives the film forward come from?

I believe the film is good. Looking forward to it…

BTW…being in thrall, being immersed in a complete world which is known only through the imagination, has got to be the greatest joy, the most important purpose, of fiction. Film doesn’t work that way. Film works by saturating the senses, not by engaging the imagination.

For the exception which proves that rule, watch Picnic at Hanging Rock. Its probably the most gripping suspense film I've seen; first watched as a teenager in Madras, back when a late night English film on Doordarshan was a rare treat.

Bad Science

Read this book. Ben Goldacre is a doctor + blogger. This is his good-natured rant about the manipulative tricks of money grubbing charlatans who adopt the trappings of science. His targets include homeopaths (homeopathic drugs are no better than placebos), pharma companies (trials which show expensive drugs to be ineffective are not published), and the media (who publicise a fake health scare a week). Great fun.

I hereby proclaim that Moonballs from Planet Earth and Bad Science are kindred souls.

The trouble with bad science actually starts where the book leaves off, when one moves beyond pharmacology. There are many fields worthy of scientific enquiry, where placebo-controlled, double-blind, randomized trials are not possible.

For instance, Earth Sciences. It is worth knowing if we are making our planet uninhabitable. However, we can't find out by doing an experiment. We can't hold out a control sample of several dozen similar planets where the fossil fuels were never burnt, and compare the richness of life-forms observed a few thousand years later in the test and control. So scientists have to use models, which are intrinsically fallible.

Calling out the shortcomings of the models used is central to being an honest scientist. However, lists of model caveats don't make for good TV (or for good top-management presentations). So the media coverage of global warming is about as alarmist as the fake-health-scare-a-week stories that Ben Goldacre rants on about.

The guy who first called this non-science, was Bjorn Lomberg, in the Skeptical Environmentalist. It is not light reading, but it is also worth looking up, just to get a sense for how hard it really is to construct good science, with limited data, in the thick of an emotionally charged, politicized debate.

Slumdog Smarts

Slumdog Millionaire makes a good point about intelligence: the chaiwallah knows a lot of answers, if the questions relate to his life experiences.

This thought sits on a serious problem with IQ testing, or with most standardized tests like the SAT, GRE or CAT. They don't test native intelligence. They test familiarity with a specific way of thinking, which is embedded in culture.

This is the reason why cultural minorities tend to do poorly on standardized tests. A favourite example from this piece by Malcolm Gladwell illustrates this point: Kpelle tribals from Liberia naturally group knives with potatoes, because knives are used to cut potatoes. While this is quite logical, standardized tests generally expect knives to be grouped with other tools, and potates with other root vegetables.

Unfortunately, this unsurprising and well understood limitation of standardized testing has led to horribly complicated racial profiling for university admissions in the USA, and in explicit, even more divisive, quotas in India.

Surely the more creative route is in designing culture-neutral tests? And in validating these instruments sufficiently to bring them into mainstream use?

This blog is idealistic enough to believe that better technology can at least alleviate really knotty political problems.

Series = Home + Away

Why not define a test series to span a set of both home and away matches? It seems like the obvious best answer to me. Yet, almost nobody in the cricket establishment is talking about it.

As I write, England are trying to conjure up an unlikely result in Port of Spain to square the test series against the Windies, who seem determined to draw the game and clinch the series. The cricket would be a lot more fun if the Windies were trying to win...but the Wisden Trophy is at stake.

Yet, the Windies arrive in England next month to start a new series. If the series were defined to span games played in both locations, there would be less of a home advantage, there would be fewer dead games, and both sides would play more natural and attacking cricket for more of the time.

In 2008 India and Australia played 8 test matches, four in Australia and four in India. Wisden thinks Australia won one series 2-1 and India won the next series 2-0. I think India won the Border-Gavaskar trophy 3-2, a very fair score.

Think back to South Africa checking out at the Oval in 2008. Or Rahul Dravid not enforcing the follow on at the Oval in 2007. Most test series are already scheduled as home-away combos. Surely there is an obvious way to avoid silliness of this sort.