Nasrudin on Management

Nasrudin on Management

Anthony O. Putman, Ph.D.

Nasrudin is a beloved figure in many folk traditions. A wise man or an utter fool, depending on your point of view, his escapades have been used to teach spiritual truths for centuries. Some of the stories in this collection are classics from the Sufi tradition; some are modern or even original; all are retold by the author. Managers and leaders may find very practical insights in these stories – unless, of course, they really are utter nonsense.

Nasrudin Loses His Keys

Late one night a friend of Nasrudin’s found him standing under a streetlight, peering anxiously at the ground. “What are you doing?” the friend asked. Nasrudin replied, “I’m looking for my keys.”

Being a good friend the man joined Nasrudin in the search. After ten fruitless minutes, the friend asked: “Nasrudin, exactly where were you standing when you dropped your keys?” Nasrudin pointed toward a dark alley. “Over there.”

“But Nasrudin – if you dropped your keys in the alley, why are looking for them here?”

Nasrudin replied: “The light’s better here.”

Commentary:

Spiritual teachers have long used this story to remind us that happiness is not found where we usually seek it, in wealth or pleasure or relationships; the source of happiness is within. A useful reminder, indeed. But Nasrudin may be inviting us to broaden the insight just a bit, to recognize how often we look for answers in the light we know, rather than the light we need.

Consider numbers. In the 21st century we love the light that numbers shine on our organizations. Numbers are exact and lend themselves to precise operations; they represent the cold, hard facts we need to lead an organization to success. As one quality-control advocate famously said: “If you can’t put it in numbers, it’s just an opinion.” (Ironically by his own standards this must be just his opinion, since he couldn’t put it into numbers.)

But is Nasrudin suggesting that we may be a bit too devoted to numbers? Can we always find the important answers we seek under that light? Have we perhaps reached the point where the only questions we recognize as important are those with numeric answers? Consider:

We can express an organization’s success in numbers (sales, margins, market share, capitalization, etc.) but can we find the source of success in that light? Apple by any standard is a phenomenally successful business. But numbers do not reveal the source of Apple’s success: its ability to bring to market innovative products that its customers love. Numbers are good for measuring; seeing what to measure requires a different light.

We can measure “human resources” – headcount, payroll, years of experience, scores on tests – but what do numbers tell us about commitment, dedication, creativity, enthusiasm? Do we really think we can lead our organizations to sustained success without these critical success factors?

Investment bankers reduced the complex reality of lending risk to a single number in order to contain and control it. We all know how well that worked.

The light of numbers can show us a great deal. But is Nasrudin suggesting that some important keys to organizational success cannot be found in that light?

Contemplation:

What “keys” are you looking for? Are you finding it hard to find them where you’re looking? What different light do you need?

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Nasrudin on Management is a service mark of Anthony O. Putman, Ph.D.

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Nasrudin Makes Soup

Nasrudin had some vegetables and grain; his friend had a meaty bone from a lamb roast. Together they made soup. Nasrudin got a pot and picked some herbs while his friend fetched water. After each ate his fill, another serving of the rich, hearty soup remained. Nasrudin set it aside for tomorrow.

The next day a man knocked at Nasrudin’s gate. ”I’m a friend of your friend. He said I could have his share of the soup.” Nasrudin eyed the soup wistfully, but he added enough water to stretch it to a weak but still tasty broth and they both had a portion. A bit of broth remained in the pot, which Nasrudin set aside for breakfast.

Next morning another man knocked at Nasrudin’s gate. “I’m a friend of the friend of your friend, and I’ve come for some soup.” Nasrudin took some water, heated it, poured it into a bowl, and handed it to the man. He took one sip and asked: “What’s this?”

Nasrudin replied: “You’re the friend of the friend of the friend. That’s the soup of the soup of the soup.”

Commentary:

Nasrudin lived centuries ago, in a cash and barter economy, but somehow he appears to have anticipated a distinctly 21st Century invention: collateralized debt obligations! Mortgage lenders don't make soup, of course; they make loans, assuming a risk they are in a good position to evaluate. They sell the loans to consolidators who rely on the lender’s judgment; the consolidators package up a number of loans, slice them into pieces, and sell the pieces like shares of stock. Then high-powered computers separate the “secure” part from the more risky parts and sell these derivatives separately to people who are now buying the risk of the risk of the risk of the risk. This has turned out to be about as nourishing as the soup of the soup of the soup.

On the other hand, Nasrudin may be less interested here in risk than in responsibility. Consider how we commonly talk in organizations about job responsibilities. John is responsible for his own work – after all, he is doing it himself. But how about Ralph, John’s supervisor, who is “responsible” for the results of the group? Or Susan, the district manager, who is “responsible” for the results of Ralph’s group and all his peers? And how about the CEO who is “responsible” for the results of the entire enterprise? How thin is that broth? Is Nasrudin suggesting that taking responsibility for the responsibility for the responsibility is equivalent to taking no responsibility at all?

Perhaps. But then, Nasrudin is frequently concerned with matters of wisdom. I once heard an enormously competent and accomplished man share the secret to his success: “Whenever I decide I need to know something, I immediately find the person who invented it and go study directly with them.” I suspect Nasrudin would agree.

When a master of something writes a book, how much of his wisdom does a reader actually imbibe? When that book is turned into a training course by someone else, and a manual is written to “proceduralize” the method, how much of the original power remains? What sense does it make to “manualize” the approach of an accomplished executive coach or a brilliant therapist, so that coaching or therapy becomes a matter of following the manual? Is the wisdom of the wisdom of the wisdom any better than the soup of the soup of the soup?

Contemplation:

Where are you, or your organization, eating the soup of the soup of the soup? How can you get back to things that really nourish?

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Nasrudin on Management is a service mark of Anthony O. Putman, Ph.D.

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Nasrudin’s Gold Coin

Nasrudin lost his lucky gold coin. For days he searched everywhere for it, but it was not to be found. Finally, Nasrudin fell to his knees and prayed:

“Oh Lord, I’ve lost my gold coin. I’ve done everything I know to do, but it’s still missing. Please help me Lord. It’s my most precious possession. Help me find it, and I promise I will give half my wealth to the poor.”

Nasrudin opened his eyes. Immediately he spotted his gold coin, lying almost completely hidden under his prayer rug. Quickly Nasrudin closed his eyes again and said:

“Never mind, Lord. I found it myself.”

Commentary:

An old auctioneer I once knew had a charming phrase, with which he directed attention to a particularly odd or unusual piece: “Now, here’s something you read about but very seldom see!” Nasrudin might use the same phrase here to invite us to contemplate gratitude. He shows us how easy it is to promise gratitude beforehand – and how quickly we can become ungrateful when we have what we were after.

When the economy goes into the tank, or competitors have us at a cost disadvantage, or we need major overhaul just to keep in business, who do we turn to help us “find our gold coin?” Isn’t it usually our workforce? We ask for cutbacks, increased productivity, long hours without overtime, quality improvements and cost reductions – all for the good, indeed the survival, of “our” company. But when things turn around – when we “find our gold coin” – who gets the credit? Who gets the big bonuses? Do we in fact show gratitude to the workforce after the fact? Or do we leaders say, in essence, “Never mind. I found it myself.”?

But gratitude isn’t just for the big wins. How often do we take someone’s help in thinking through an issue or solving a problem, and then neglect to show our gratitude when the problem is solved? Do we make a point of at least thanking people for going the extra miles, or do we just treat it as part of their job? How long has it been since you publicly acknowledged the contribution your team has made to your success – or do you always want the bosses or the board to see you as the one who “found the gold coin?”

There is one important difference between Nasrudin’s situation and ours. The Lord, it seems, knows we mean well and will help whether we show gratitude or not. Lyle Lovett might have been speaking for our workforce and colleagues when he sang about forgiving:

“God does, but I don’t.

God will, but I won’t.

That’s the difference between God and me.”

Contemplation:

Do you routinely show gratitude for the help you receive – or has your behavior been telling people: “Never mind, I found it myself?”

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Nasrudin on Management is a service mark of Anthony O. Putman, Ph.D.

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Nasrudin Plays Golf

Nasrudin took up golf and quickly fell in love with the game. Every day he and three others met just after lunch and got in 18 holes. He returned home every afternoon, tired and happy.

But one day he returned home quite late, and his wife could see he was in a terrible mood. “Nasrudin, what happened? Didn’t you enjoy your golf game?”

Nasrudin replied: “It was just terrible! Bob teed it up on the first hole, hit a great drive right down the middle of the fairway – and keeled over, dead of a heart attack!”

“Oh, Nasrudin – how awful for you!”

“You bet! It was hit the ball – drag Bob – hit the ball – drag Bob – for 18 holes!”

Commentary:

People have an extraordinary capacity to create meaning in their lives and pursue it fanatically. No matter how essentially trivial an activity looks to an outsider – like hitting a little white ball into a cup and then doing it over and over again – a hard-core golfer needs no reason for golf, just an opportunity. And so it is for hard-core programmers, and accountants, and engineers, and managers – we don’t need a reason to pursue our calling fanatically, just an opportunity. Our pursuit can become remarkably single-minded: our goal is to get the stock price up, or get our company onto all social media sites, or get financial controls in place, and nothing else matters. From within the logic of our calling, the impact our actions have on the rest of the organization can seem like irrelevant distractions, like – well, like dragging Bob.

But does dragging Bob look reasonable to a non-golfer? Of course it doesn’t. Is it possible that Nasrudin is warning us that what we count as an irrelevant distraction may, in fact, be far more important than the goal we are pursuing? Is he asking us to step outside the insider logic of our calling to see what we are doing through other’s eyes?

Perhaps. But perhaps Nasrudin is being more metaphorical here. Perhaps “dragging Bob” refers to our only-too-human tendency to hold onto things we are better off without. Someone else gets a promotion or a choice assignment we felt we deserved, and that continues to effect our attitude at work. Someone corrected us publicly, or attacked one of our ideas in a meeting, and we go out of your way to avoid that person. Or we backed a proposal that lost, and still have little enthusiasm for the system that won. Perhaps all of us are “dragging Bob” as we go through our daily work, and “dragging Bob” is keeping us from full and enthusiastic participation.

Contemplation: Are you “dragging Bob?” What “Bob” are you dragging? And what do you want to do about it?

No part of this material may be reproduced without prior written permission.

Nasrudin on Management is a service mark of Anthony O. Putman, Ph.D.

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Nasrudin and the Strange Green Fruits

Nasrudin loved to experience new cultures. Once, in India, he sat in the market and watched people shopping for a bewildering variety of unfamiliar fruits and vegetables. He noticed that everyone bought one particular small, green fruit, so he used his last rupees to buy a kilo of it. He sat under a tree, with great anticipation bit into one of the fruits – and choked as his mouth began to burn as if on fire!

“How unfortunate!” he thought to himself. “I must have chosen a bad one.” So he picked another of his small green fruits, bit into it – and found the fire in his mouth doubled.

Just then, a passerby saw the tears streaming from Nasrudin’s eyes and asked what was the problem. When Nasrudin explained, the passerby laughed and said: “Those fruits you bought are chilies! We only buy one or two, and use them to spice a big dish of vegetables. Nobody ever eats them raw.”

Nasrudin nodded thoughtfully, looked at the large pile of chilies in front of him, picked up one and began to eat. The passerby was astonished: “Why, man, now that you know what they are, why are you eating the chilies?”

Nasrudin replied, as the tears streamed down his cheeks: “Before, I was eating the chilies. Now I am eating my money.”

Commentary:

Nasrudin winds up looking very foolish in this story, but his steps to getting there seem very – familiar. He bought his “strange green fruits” because everyone else did. Who among us has not done the same thing: doing what we see others doing without truly understanding why they are doing it? Did you really need that equity line increase? that latest software or hardware upgrade? that extra 1% return you got in the “High-Yield” fund? Did your organization have a clear business purpose in putting your content on-line for free? outsourcing customer service? jumping into social media? making “star” retention your top HR priority? – or did you do it essentially because you saw everyone else doing it?

Following the crowd is far more common than we like to admit, but it’s not generally fatal. The next step is the killer: “eating my money.” (At least Nasrudin is honest about it!) How often do we actually admit our mistakes and cut our loses? The new product isn’t working out? Why, we just need more salespeople/better marketing/more time for the buying cycle! Can’t get the new turnaround strategy to work? Give it few more months and a lot more money. That stock will go up eventually, that manager will make the grade, this strategy will prove effective – they have to, we have already invested so much in them!

Major change does take time; persistence can be a virtue; sometimes we just need to stay the course. But how often are these really a case of “eating our money?”

Contemplation:

Is your organization “eating its money”? Are you? What can you do about it?

No part of this material may be reproduced without prior written permission.

Nasrudin on Management is a service mark of Anthony O. Putman, Ph.D.

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Nasrudin Shoots an Arrow

Nasrudin decided to try his hand at archery. He fit an arrow to the bow, aimed at a nearby tree, pulled back the bowstring and let fly. The arrow flew straight past the tree and stuck in Nasrudin’s shirt, which was hanging on the line to dry.

Nasrudin let out a great shriek and sank to his knees, wailing. His wife rushed from the house to find out what was the matter.

Nasrudin pointed in horror at the arrow sticking out of the shirt. His wife looked at the shirt, pulled out the arrow and said: “Nasrudin! What’s wrong with you? It’s an old shirt, it’s only a small tear, I can mend it – what’s the big deal?”

Nasrudin continued to wail. “You don’t understand! What if I had been wearing that shirt? I just came that close to dying!”

Commentary:

At first glance Nasrudin looks quite foolish. His reaction seems vastly over-blown – after all, he wasn’t wearing the shirt and no real harm was done. So what is he trying to tell us? Is he reminding us of the difference between scenarios and reality – between what might be and what actually is – by showing how ridiculous we look when we react to the one as if it were the other? Why should we get frantic about “not making plan” when after all “plan” was just our best scenario for how things would turn out? How much energy do we put into preventing what could happen to our nation or our business, at the expense of making the most of what is happening? Is Nasrudin essentially telling us to just lighten up?

Perhaps. But consider: before the arrow pierced his shirt, being shot with an arrow was a mere possibility for Nasrudin – he knew it could possibly happen, but it had no real place in how he saw the world or conducted himself. The moment that arrow went in, everything changed: he now saw with his own eyes that being shot with an arrow was an actual possibility – and his world and his place in it shifted. He now lived in a world in which a man – even Nasrudin himself! – could be innocently minding his own business when a stray arrow struck him down. And he mourned the loss of his previous, more innocent world.

Once seen, never forgotten – and impossible to ignore. Four airliners are hijacked, two of them fly into the World Trade Center towers – and the world becomes a place where the unthinkable is now real. Old and honorable professional services firms are brought down by the greed of a few arrogant partners, a world-wide market collapse costs millions of people their fortunes and pensions – and the world becomes a place where hard work and honesty do not, in fact, pay off in the end.

Some happenings change just our beliefs or opinions. Some change our world.

Contemplation:

What mere possibilities have become actual possibilities for you? How has your world changed – and what difference has it made?

Dedicated to those whose world ended on September 11, 2001.

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Nasrudin on Management is a service mark of Anthony O. Putman, Ph.D.

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Nasrudin’s Donkey Goes on a Diet

Nasrudin attended a lecture on the health and spiritual benefits of fasting. He was impressed by the speaker’s claims, but, being a cautious man, decided to try out this new path to enlightenment on his donkey first.

He began slowly, cutting back the donkey’s food by a little each day. And everything was great – the donkey seemed more cooperative, he did all his work, and Nasrudin was saving a lot of money on his food! Finally Nasrudin achieved full implementation of the program: the donkey received no food at all. Nasrudin eagerly anticipated seeing with his own eyes the health and spiritual benefits of fasting.

The next morning Nasrudin walked into his stable and found his donkey – dead. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “Isn’t this just my luck? My donkey finally learns to live without food, and the next day he dies!”

Commentary:

This one looks almost too obvious – it appears to be directing our attention to the dangers of indiscriminate cost-cutting. And perhaps only a “fool” like Nasrudin would dare to suggest, in today’s business climate, that cost-cutting could possibly be dangerous.

Max Shulman in his comic novel Sleep Till Noon has a character who built a career from a single line. A Hollywood producer who knew next to nothing about making movies, he would sit in on creative conferences, wait for a pause and toss in The Line: “Hey, how about a flashback?” And since a flashback is seldom a terrible idea in a movie – and sometimes is exactly what is called for – he got a reputation as a canny film executive.

Some managers appear to be like that producer. They have built their career on a single line: “We need to cut costs” or “It’s time to restructure.” And since cutting costs or restructuring is sometimes exactly the right thing, and rarely seems like a bad idea, they get a reputation as hard-nosed, results-oriented executives. But since that’s all they seem to know, that’s all they do – they become “corporate anorexics” who seem determined, like Nasrudin with his poor donkey, to teach their organizations to “live without food.” (Have you ever noticed how seldom these executives include their own compensation in the costs to be cut or the jobs to be restructured? They try it first on the donkey.)

But Nasrudin is seldom merely obvious. We can dig a little deeper here. Perhaps this story is really about misplaced intentions. The original purpose of fasting, recall, was to experience health and spiritual benefits – but Nasrudin got caught up in the money he was saving on donkey food. Do we see any parallels here in our own organizations? Restructuring was meant to improve bottom-up communication and empower our front line people, but somehow it became just another way to reduce headcount, or to avoid the really hard strategic questions about what business we are in. We began reengineering that core process in order to provide better, faster and cheaper service to our customers, but it turned into a power grab by the people on the reengineering team. We create derivatives as a means of reducing risk, which enable single individuals to risk entire institutions. We set up a performance review system to improve people’s performance and wind up using it primarily to build a paper trail to support firing them. Perhaps Nasrudin is reminding us that we can become so enchanted by “side benefits” that we lose track of our original intentions – and, eventually, our donkeys.

Contemplation:

What has become an unquestioned “good thing” in your organization? Are you starving some donkeys? What programs began with one intention and have changed to another in implementation – and what can you do about that?

No part of this material may be reproduced without prior written permission.

Nasrudin on Management is a service mark of Anthony O. Putman, Ph.D.

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Nasrudin Takes a Hike

Nasrudin decided to go for a hike in the wilderness. Since this was new territory for him, he studied the map beforehand, and planned out his route carefully. He put a good sandwich into his backpack, made sure his water bottle was filled, and set off.

Hiking in the mountains, Nasrudin came to a fallen tree which completely blocked the trail. He started to go around the tree, when suddenly he encountered a huge bear who did not seem happy to see him. Nasrudin ran back the other way, the bear in hot pursuit. Nasrudin tripped over a rock and fell into a mud puddle as he scrambled uphill. He grabbed the sandwich from his backpack and threw it at the bear, who, being more interested in the sandwich than Nasrudin, stopped to eat it while Nasrudin scrambled out of the mud and over a ridge.

After a time, being sure the bear was no longer following him, Nasrudin sat on a rock to clean up and get a sip of water. He took the map from his backpack and looked at it with disgust, saying to himself: “I’ve got to get a better map! None of that stuff was on this one!”

Commentary:

Alfred Korzybski famously said: “The map is not the territory.” He might as well have said: “The plan is not the reality.” Plans are everywhere in organizations: strategic plans, business plans, action plans, investment plans, growth plans, cost-reduction plans … It’s hard to be taken seriously in business, politics or academe without a well-documented plan. And we do take them seriously: in many circles, “not making plan” is the strongest criticism of a manager’s performance. Just as we wouldn’t start on a trip without mapping out our course, we want to be sure to have a good plan before we start our endeavor.

But once we get going, reality has a nasty tendency to deviate from the plan. A sharp competitor cuts into our market share; interest rates head down instead of up; a new technology opens up a whole new set of opportunities; we recruit some key players for our team while losing some others; credit markets freeze solid. What do we do about the plan, then? Do we “stay the course,” insisting on “making plan” regardless? Do we revise the plan, or just abandon it and improvise? At what point does the plan become an obstacle to success?

But there may be a deeper meaning here as well here. Could Nasrudin be asking us to recognize that – unlike our plans – reality is filled with hungry bears?

Is he suggesting that something big and unplanned for always happens? How often do we find, looking back, that the most important thing we had to deal with was completely unforeseen? Perhaps we should consider the fallen tree and the bear as the rule, rather than the exception. We can’t know what it will be, or when it will come, but one thing Nasrudin asks us to consider: when all is said and done, the least likely scenario is finding that everything played out as we planned.

Nasrudin may be reminding us to keep our eyes out for hungry bears (and that sometimes you need a good sandwich to feed the bear more than you need a good map).

Contemplation:

How are your plans doing in matching reality? Are you confusing the map for the territory? What are you doing to keep an eye out for hungry bears?

Dedicated to the millions who lost trillions in 2008 when the “impossible” and completely unforeseen became real.

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"Nasrudin on Management" is a service mark of Anthony O. Putman, Ph.D.

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Nasrudin Buys a Horse

Nasrudin witnessed a horse race. He was enthralled by the great beasts, galloping with such power and speed around the track, and he resolved on the spot to replace his plodding old donkey with one of these magnificent creatures.

Nasrudin went to the market and bought the biggest, most spirited horse he could find. He had never ridden a horse, but he had spent his life riding donkeys, so, figuring it can’t be that much different, he jumped onto the horse’s back.

The horse, being startled by this unexpected turn of events, bucked wildly and started to run. Nasrudin was thrown forward and began to fall off. He desperately threw his arms and legs around the horse’s neck, and wound up hanging below the horse, looking up at the by-now-frantic beast who was running at top speed.

A friend saw the scene and shouted out: “Nasrudin! Where are you going?” Nasrudin called back as he disappeared into the distance: “Don’t ask me! Ask the horse!”

Commentary: On first consideration this might be a cautionary tale, warning us of the dangers of getting caught up in “the latest and greatest” – technology, management fad, Wall Street story, whatever. Who among us hasn’t “upgraded” our good old reliable software only to spend hours (days, months) recovering from the “improvement”? How many companies have “diversified” at great cost of time, money and opportunity, only to shed these “diversions from our core business” a few years later? How often have you done things “the way it’s being done now” only to find that way doesn’t work for you? How many hot sectors have you invested in, only to see them crater in the next quarter? How much better off might we be if we stuck with what we really need instead of chasing what we think we ought to have?

But there may be a deeper meaning here as well. How much of what we as leaders think of as “control” is really – illusion? Ricardo Semler, owner of Brazil’s legendary Semco and author of the provocative business autobiography Maverick, routinely challenges fellow CEOs to show him their five year plans – from five years ago. He routinely gets embarrassed refusal. Do you – do any of us – really have any idea where the market or the economy is headed? Are you really sure how your workforce will respond to the new corporate initiatives? Your customers to the new product line? What direction your industry is headed in the long run? What your financial results will be quarter by quarter, let alone five years from now? Do we keep up this illusion of control because the truth is too humbling – that if one really wants to know where we are going, we would have to say: “Don’t ask me – ask the horse!”

Contemplation: What horses have you been “riding” lately?

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"Nasrudin on Management" is a service mark of Anthony O. Putman, Ph.D.

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