Don’t let the “laws” of power render you powerless

A while back, struggling to win influence over a business partner that seemed to out-fox me at every turn, I read the newly-published book by Robert Greene called The 48 Laws of Power. It was a great book – full of intrigue and subterfuge. Yet it did me no good at all. My partner seemed to have power in his DNA and I so lacked the courage to implement the “laws” that I actually found them alienating. Far from giving me power, the book seemed to point out my innate lack of power.

The 48 Laws... is enjoying a revival, so I thought I would revisit it. Given my research for What’s Stopping You? - my book on fear of failure (TBP March 2011 by Capstone/Wiley) - could I now make use of Greene's prose? Could I even feel that he was addressing me: a confessed High-FF (as I call someone with high fear of failure in the book)?

Many of the laws still seem to be addressing somebody else in my view – the school bully perhaps or the overly-ambitious office toady. Even after my immersion into the world of self-help and psychology – aimed at making me a more effective human being – I’m unconvinced that such aggressive traits will work for the High-FF, or anyone else for that matter. Why? Because the book forgets one crucial piece of information – THERE IS NO WAR.

For instance Law 15 states you should “destroy your enemy” – “drowning every smoldering ember”. Sorry, you mean we have to murder the guy in the office that also wants that promotion? Jeez, this seems a bit of an over-reaction to me but, agreed, anything short of that does mean they will live to potentially plot against us (especially if they have read Greene’s book).

We are not in the medieval court of an Italian prince so such advice is total garbage as far as I’m concerned – not least because it is also contradictory. For instance Law 2 tells us to “…understand the utility of enemies”, and even suggests we go as far as hiring them – not that they’ll be much use if we’ve “drowned their every smoldering ember”.

Certainly, hiring “enemies” seems like a more mature response than drowning them, but why see them as enemies? We’re in an office, not on a battlefield. Our colleagues have the same hopes and aspirations – and probably many of the same insecurities. Stephen Covey’s Seven Habits of Highly Effective People suggests we should “synergize” with people – which, indeed, means seeking their utility for our needs (and vice versa). Another Covey habit states will should seek “win:win” outcomes. Again, this seems far more effective to me than constantly fighting battles to some theoretical death – especially for the High-FF who has a poor record when it comes to “win:lose” outcomes.

Quickly – once again – I became disillusioned with The 48 Laws..., although this time from a more learned perspective. In the modern age, these laws couldn’t teach us anything useful – could they? Certainly, the High-FF reads such a book and spots the traits of his or her rivals rather than feels they’re applicable to his or her own situation. There are 48 of them, however. So surely there’s something we can learn beyond the simple truth that we are unlikely to make our way to the top via Machiavellian scheming? In fact I thought around 20 of the rules had some applicability – listed below with my added interpretation for the High-FF.

Law 1: “Never eclipse your superiors”. Your role in any subordinate situation is not to point out or exaggerate their failings but to be useful and support their needs. The unsupportive route caused universal frustration, where you are the most likely loser. The supportive route – even for someone you disrespect – engenders progress. Don’t worry: their defects are known (but may be less than you suppose), as are your competences (ditto).

Law 5: “Protect your reputation”. Given my last book, I can speak from experience here. Once damaged – by foolish or poorly thought-through acts – you will struggle to regain your standing. In What’s Stopping You? I talk of becoming “principles centred” (another reference to Stephen Covey). Undermine those principles and any attempt to publicly impose them will be almost impossible.

Law 6: “Make yourself the centre of attention”. This is not as vain-glorious as it sounds. The main aim here is to not toil in obscurity. Ensure that your acts become known. Don’t be boastful but don’t deny your talents.

Law 9: “Win by deeds not by debate”. Don’t tell people your intentions – show them. Never argue with people (a trait of mine that has won me no friends and lost me many). Act.

Law 10: “Shun losers”. My own interpretation of this is not as harsh as it sounds. At work, many High-FFs hang out in what I call the Negative Club – the malcontents huddling together and moaning about the company or a particular line manager. Progress while part of this gang is all but impossible.

Law 11: “Tell part of the truth and be tactically generous”. Just about every other “law” recommends some form of deceit, so here’s one that states the opposite (albeit in conspiratorial language). Truth is crucial for trust. And trust radiates positivity. People relax in your company and offer you insight and opportunity. Don’t abuse it.

Law 13: “When you ask for help, let people know what’s in it for them”. This takes us back to Covey’s synergistic win:wins. Again, couched in the language of deceit – all this is saying is that human relationships need to be a two-way street that you should initiate. Just make sure you repay your debts, with interest.

Law 14: “Seem to be a friend to gather intelligence”. I’m getting a bit tired of the cloak and dagger stuff to be honest. How about “be a friend”? “Disarm rivals by seeming to be a friend” says Greene. Remove the word “seeming” and this is good advice for the High-FF. Add the word “seeming” and you’ll be found out and distrusted for evermore.

Law 19: “Know with whom you deal: give no offence to the powerful”. In Why Should the Boss Listen to You (2008) strategic adviser James Lukaszewski states that your advice to the boss should always be constructive. “Constructive criticism” is an oxymoron for Lukaszewski as negative comments will stop the boss listening. Seniors are mostly looking for confirmation from juniors. As for “being able to read people” as the law suggests: fine, but don’t over analyse – most characters are complex, and your misjudgements may lead to mistakes.

Law 20: “Make no promises”. Part of this law states “avoid inseparable allies”, which I agree with. These are mostly weak people clinging to a lifeboat. You should not seek nor be a lifeboat. Develop your own goals and judge everything (people, places, situations) by those goals. Alliances (especially “inseparable” ones) can easily lead you from the path.

Law 21: “Play dumb”. Disarm your “victims” (oh, dear) by making them feel smart, Greene states. Certainly, parading your intelligence is setting you up for a fall, while compliments regarding the astute acts and habits of others will be fondly remembered, so this is good advice despite the aggressive language.

Law 22: “Surrender to gain power”. Forget going down in a blaze of glory – defeat is always inglorious so you may as well live to fight another day. When we judge a fight unwinnable we should back off and wait, says Greene. Of course, this is a recipe for sulking and scheming – two traits that will undermine you. Seeking a win:win, meanwhile, makes the notion of surrender redundant.

Law 23: “Focus your strength”. This is good advice to anyone with a lot on their plate. I always tell my team to imagine themselves guarding a footbridge with the marauders (i.e. tasks) being tackled one-one-one. Far better than standing on a beach and watching the invaders overwhelm you from all angles. “Pick one point and bring all your forces to bear on it” is really just effective task management – battle analogies aside.

Law 24: “Be courtly”. “The courtier is adept at intrigue and manipulation” says Greene. But, as a High-FF, you are not – so best focus on other courtly traits such as good manners and flattery.

Law 29: “Plan everything”. Absolutely. What’s Stopping You? goes into meticulous detail regarding goal-setting, strategising and planning. With long-term goals and detailed plans towards achieving them, progress is almost impossible to avoid. In fact you could rename the “self-help” section of the bookshop “set goals and plan” and it would be no less accurate.

Law 34: “Play the king and people will treat you royally”. This is not a treatise for pomposity. It is simply saying that if you conduct yourself well it will be noticed and you will be treated well. Look and act like a loser, meanwhile…

Law 35: “Timing is everything”. Sometimes impossible to know without hindsight but poor timing can destroy your plans. Yet this is more than mere luck. Detailed plans and strong research can usually uncover the secrets of good timing.

Law 38: “Don’t look for a free lunch: disdain it”. If something is worth having it is worth paying for. All freebies extract a price eventually – so even a favour from a colleague MUST be repaid, in triplicate. Again, this is a law the High-FF has to most often learn the hard way – so often have they baulked at the cost of their own journey and jumped on the free bandwagon, only to find it taking them to the bandwagon owner’s destination.

Law 43: “Win hearts and minds”. Forcing anyone to act on your behalf will breed resentment and eventual rebellion. Even Greene's recommendation of winning them by “guile, flattery and craft” will explode in your face if caught. What’s wrong with persuading someone something’s in their long-term interest: because it is? Spend your life building alliances, not fighting enemies.

Law 47: “When you reach your goal stop”. Carry on selling once the sale is made and, the chances are, you’ll talk yourself out of a sale. Yet I’d change “goal” to “target” here, as stopping the moment a long-term goal is reached risks undermining the achievement with stagnation. In fact, we should also replace "stop" with "set new ones" as we should always be setting future goals, especially once our original goals have been achieved.

“Will my career end in failure?” Sounds like it

The Financial Times agony aunt (yes it does have one) Lucy Kellaway recently tackled an issue that tweaked my interest, regarding feelings of failure at the end of a career. This is an extraordinarily neglected subject. What do we say to someone who, near retirement, becomes convinced they have failed: finally, fatally, forever.

Posted first on FT.com to elicit public responses prior to Lucy’s, this was the problem (nutshelled): “I’m a successful businessman approaching career’s end but haunted by a sense of failure. I missed out on the CEO post but stayed on. Now I feel sidelined. Nobody pays much attention and nobody will remember me. They say ‘all political careers end in failure’. Is this also true of business careers?” – Director, male, 57.

Lucy’s replies are usually spot-on but I felt this one lacked some empathy. Yes, she said, nearly all business careers end in failure. They can end in big, spectacular failure – like, say, the career of Tony Hayward – or they can end in little anonymous failure – like our 57-year old director.

She suggested that things may have ended no better had he won the CEO post and that, he should realize, the feelings of failure are “all inside your own head – no one else will care one way or another”. She offered “various mental tricks” to help him feel better, such as “comparing himself to unsuccessful people”. “I suggest you force yourself to stop thinking about success altogether,” she concluded, as “such thinking always ends in tears. The only way to deal with these horrid truths is denial – to distract yourself with other thoughts”.

I doubt this made our man feel any better about his predicament. Lucy is a highly-successful writer (the inventor of the hilarious Martin Lukes), so she may have had difficulty empathizing with the energy-sapping dull pain of realization and disappointment that had depleted this man’s self-esteem so late in his career. Unlike Lucy, he hadn’t achieved his goals, and now felt he wouldn’t. There are few mental tricks – and especially not denial – that can suppress such a thought.

So what could I say to make this man’s outlook more positive? Looking for ideas, I read the reader’s responses, which were predictably less measured.

• FT reader: "Wow – you maintained a decent position into your late 50s. That’s success. I hope I’m as lucky as you."

This chimes with Lucy’s mental tricks in my opinion. Reframing your thoughts to focus on the positive will offer only the briefest of respites. By his own standards this man has failed. And it’s his perceptions that matter: no one else’s.

• FT reader: "You seem to be suffering from the kind of existentialist angst that most folk address in their teens."

I absolutely agree with this, although I’d replace “most” with “many” as “most” people never face existentialist angst at all. Facing it at 57 is no crime, and will have its advantages: he should be mature enough to cope with the realization that “yes” he will die and “no” he will not achieve everything he wants to achieve. Writing to Lucy is just the start of his coming to terms with this “awful truth”.

• FT reader: "Incredibly narcissistic. Why should anyone remember you? What have you done to make the world a better place? Have you eradicated world famine?"

He knows this – hence the crisis. Yet there are many ways to change the world, not just through charity. Our 57-year old worked for a mid-sized multinational – probably the strongest sector historically for producing life-saving drugs or equipment or even ideas. Also, charity workers have their own benchmarks of achievement, not all of the “save the planet” variety.

• FT reader: "You may wish to consider not defining success by what others may or may not think of you."

He hasn’t. He’s measured himself against his own standards – the billions that failed to achieve his status are, quite rightly, irrelevant.

But among the trite replies were two I thought worthy of further thought. “If you really want to be a CEO,” said the first, “then you are still close to the average age and over 20% of CEOs are in their 60s.”

Certainly, the other guy may falter or become disliked by the board, or there may be a crisis that requires a different sort of head (bringing Mr. Haywood to mind again). Yet why wait? They’ve made their choice and, to be frank, they probably expected (wanted even) you to take the hint and go. One assumes some form of early retirement is possible (making a nuisance of yourself may be a good way of getting this on the table) perhaps with some lucrative consultancy projects as a further sweetener. Meanwhile, sourcing non-exec positions with smaller companies looking for your kind of experience can help rebuild your self-esteem. There are even agencies that can help in this quest.

This brings in the second interesting comment, which declared: “at the end of the game nobody will spend time wondering how the knight on the side of the board got there. They are all pondering THEIR next move, and so should you”.

Certainly, it’s the next move that counts, not the last one (which was a setback you seem to relive daily). The key is to get a plan, develop a strategy and become an effective executioner. With this in mind, I think Stephen Covey’s the man for you. His Seven Habits of Highly Effective People will shake you from your self-fulfilling stupor of negativity, even at your age.

With breath-taking abridgement, here they are:
1) “Be proactive” (don’t mope around the office writing to Lucy – take action),
2) “Begin with the end in mind” (work out what you really want in the long term and move towards that goal with every step you take),
3) “Put first things first” (plan your route),
4) “Think win/win” (this is a must in terms of changing your current win/lose thinking, which is probably making you a bit of a pain in the office),
5) “Seek first to understand, then to be understood” (with every conversation, listen to others rather than inwardly shouting “listen to me”),
6) “Synergize” (develop your network, and use it).
7) “Sharpen the saw” (develop the skills you need to succeed – don’t struggle on with rusty instruments).

At your age it’s also worth considering Covey’s 8th Habit, written as a follow-up to the multi-million selling Seven Habits… . This habit requires you to “find your voice and help others find theirs’,” he states – making the point that self-obsession is desperately unhealthy (as you now realize), while “choosing to serve is the most effective habit of all”. He implores us to find our “unique personal significance”: the key element of ourselves that we can offer to others, perhaps via teaching, mentoring (maybe through non-exec roles) or even consultancy – anything that can pass on that hard-acquired wisdom. Certainly, such a quest would make the perfect final innings for a man of your calibre.

And if you think 57 too old to start, then you are probably right. On the other hand, if you think – with your age and experience – you are now in the perfect place to get going on forging your own path (rather than one dictated by a soulless and myopic board), then – again – you are probably right. So what if you drop dead en route? What a great way to go – far better than staring at the rain everyday and wondering what might have been.