Recently, I listened to a senior manager from a large telecoms company reflecting on the J18 City protest among a group of industrialists and environmental consultants. Although he reckoned “many of the protesters weren’t very clear or articulate about why they were there”, he certainly grasped the thinking behind the protest and how it related to his company.

He understood that all sorts of people are beginning to understand the links between social and ecological destruction, and increasingly competitive economic behaviour driven by ever more liberalised capital flows. He also expected these people to mobilise accordingly – probably targeting large, transnational companies like his, which appear complicit with the City’s prioritisation of narrow financial interests at the expense of broader, social and ecological ones. And although he didn’t explicitly say so, it seemed as though he wouldn’t think this entirely unreasonable…

Shock! Horror!
So here’s an unusual corporate character! Which prompts some questions: What radicalism - or diversity, at least – exists in the executive population? Why do these various characters think and behave as they do? Are there more useful stereotypes than that of the arrogant ‘fat-cat’?

Surely, the clearer the motivations and behaviour of corporate man are understood, the better.1

As the anthropologist and management theorist Robert Jackall has written
“Corporate executives’ pivotal insti-tutional position sets both the frameworks and vocabularies for a great many public issues in our society.”2 “Pivots” offer leverage. The more precisely activists can apply pressure, the more change we might see. Maybe a crude characterisation of some key corporate types – especially those influe9ncing the relative prioritisation of financial and sustainability interests – would prove helpful...

Enter, Stage Left, ‘Nearly Man’…
To begin, we have the rare - but multiplying - breed of executive like the above-mentioned telecoms manager. This character is surprisingly sensitive and shows an unusual degree of concern , and empathy for, the profound human and environmental problems facing the world. Sometimes he has explicit responsibility for grappling with the implications of ‘sustainable development’ for his company. Given the opportunity, he will often do this with a disarming thoughtfulness and honesty.
So are there bridges to be built here? We might label this character the ‘Nearly Man’: ‘nearly’ because, despite his good intentions, his ability to drive genuine corporate change is quite limited. This is to do with his limitations within the corporation, and as an individual….

Struggling to Convince.
Organisationally, Nearly Man finds himself marginalised from positions of real influence, precisely because of his ‘dubious’ sympathy for sustainability interests. His corporate clout therefore depends on his ability to disguise this aspect of his character, and to improvise cannily - taking on alternative roles and drawing out different, more progressive responses from his colleagues.

However, this requires strategic clarity and considerable creativity, which Nearly Man often struggles to realise. He tends to be insufficiently self-knowing about his complicity with the narrow interests of ‘capital’ on the one hand, and the extent of his (and our) repressed social and ecological needs on the other.

So, alienated from the intuitive and imaginative powers that he surely does possess (as we all do), Nearly Man struggles to act effectively amidst this defining tension. Therefore, as far as activism is concerned, Nearly Man may occasionally provide useful insight into how companies respond to sustainability issues; he might also serve as an informative link with the corporate world; but ultimately, he could well prove a distraction.

The tragedy of the ‘Chumpian’
To understand what Nearly Man is up against, we must familiarise ourselves with a second corporate character: the ‘Chumpian’! The Chumpian is the archetypal, thrusting corporate executive: highly competitive and ambitious, demonstrating little commitment to sustainability issues. Indeed, he appears blind to the extent of the relationship between corporate activity and the social and ecological disintegration around him. The Chumpian’s defining characteristics are shared by most orthodoxly successful executives.

In an article for Management Today called ‘Path to Power’, Rhymer Rigby has described Britain’s top industrialists as “driven, single-minded people [who] make enormous sacrifices on the altar of ambition… Work intrudes on every area of [the business leader’s] life: he has little time for family, friends or life’s little pleasures.”

Despite the customary ‘fat cat’ tag, it is worth noting that the corporate chief isn’t, apparently, so motivated by vast pay cheques. In fact, “he just enjoys being number one.”[3]

Desperation
Such desperate, competitive striving on the part of the Chumpian naturally sets the tone for the rest of his corporate culture. Aspiring corporate executives soon become keenly aware of how different activities are relatively valued and rewarded by their bosses.

However, this is constantly changing – both as the market changes and, more importantly, because of the rapid turn-over of executives in top positions with different outlooks and priorities. Robert Jackall’s key insight is that, due to this pervasive uncertainty, “profound anxiety [is] perhaps the key experience of managerial work.”

This provokes in corporate man an ongoing “self-rationalisation” and an “alertness to expediency” which has an unfortunate result: “The manager learns to appraise all situations and all other people as he comes to see himself – as an object, a commodity.”

Therefore, sustainability and other ethical issues only get to count if they represent a means to the Chumpian’s more immediate ends – such as keeping the City happy.

They lose their intrinsic worth and are converted into the corporate currency of value. This may well boil down to share value – but might also relate to, say, status concerns.

The result, according to Jackall, is “a society where morality becomes indistinguishable from the quest for one’s own survival and advantage.”

What is shocking about the Chumpian’s modus operandi is, firstly, his very narrow, short-term frame of reference and, secondly, his ‘instrument-alism’ – the way he interacts with the rest of the world purely to satisfy his own ends.

Activists might take advantage of the first: the potential for exploding the executive’s limited conceptual framework – perhaps through direct action - is surely immense. Others might alternatively appeal to the instrumental self-interest of the Chumpian; however, considerable ‘art’ must be applied to avoid being reduced to a “commodity” in the process!

Incense and Mirrors: ‘Tis the ‘Hi-Priest’!
Our third corporate character is an increasingly influential derivation of the Chumpian. His motives are complex, and he has only recently emerged, precisely as a result of the sort of activist pressure just mentioned.

We might call him the ‘Hi-Priest’ – and is typified by characters such as Shell’s Mark Moody-Stuart, Tarmac’s John Banham, BP’s John Browne (see CW5), Monsanto’s Bob Shapiro and maybe NatWest’s Derek Wanless.

These are the few corporate chiefs who are taking sustainable development seriously – either because they have simply been compelled to understand the ‘madness of narrowness’ or, more probably, because they have also spotted compelling business reasons to take such a step. Either way, they have spotted the opportunity to cast themselves as that bit more ‘wise’ and ‘good’ than most, increasing their status in the process.

Permission Granted!
These characters do, at least, ‘give permission’ for colleagues and associated others to be open about sustainability issues within their spheres of influence. The problem, though, is that the Hi-Priest simultaneously defines the limits of this openness, and then translates whatever new knowledge this uncovers into a ‘wisdom’ that tends to be manipulative marshalling others for economic purposes, or shaping public policy.

Enlightened?
So while he might sometimes appear more enlightened and inclusive than his peers, the Hi-Priest frequently shows signs that he has been too corrupted and too stunted by his previous incarnation as a Chumpian.
And if he really is able to do no more than to apply his dismal economic framework, or “rationalisation”, to the social and ecological issues he encounters - converting yet more of the world into the base currency of commodities – then this poses a terrible threat.

Principled?
Here, for instance, is Mark Moody-Stuart’s concluding comment in response to a concern that I raised directly with him, about whether or not Shell risks contributing to a form of “totalitarianism” - as it seeks to engage with the social and ecological concerns of its ‘stakeholders’ on the one hand, while prioritising radically improved financial performance on the other:4

“I suppose you could say that economics is an absolute, overall essential. I mean, I do think, personally, that, you know, laws of supply and demand come pretty close to absolute truth – and the laws of economics, or some of them, come as close to absolute truth… or to absolute reality, as you do in the world. If that’s what you mean by totalitarian… er, then I plead guilty.”

The Hi-Priest could well prove the worse sort of false prophet: an unwitting(?) charlatan, totally beholden to Mammon. However, as shoddy in character as the ‘Hi-‘ implies, this Priest possesses a fragile authority. Successful activist strategies are likely to be those that aim to undermine it, perhaps by blaspheming before the spurious scriptures and bogus rituals on which it depends.

Behold the Acolyte! Enter, Stage Right, the ‘Sustainability Stooge’: Villain or Victim?
Our last corporate character is both an acolyte of the Hi-Priest, yet a lackey of the Chumpian – and a close relation of Nearly Man. He is the ‘Sustainability Stooge’ – some of whom are highly dangerous.

Most companies with any sort of profile on environmental, community, or ethical issues have a number of Sustainability Stooges working for them: Shell, BP, BT, Diageo, Tesco, Sainsbury’s, Monsanto, Glaxo-Welcome, Tarmac, ICI, NatWest, Unilever, Rio Tinto and so on.

Like the Nearly Man, the Stooge’s role is to engage proactively with social and environmental issues and those pressure groups trying to further them.

But rather than being open to learning and change, his personal instinct is to control. Meanwhile, his professional role is to manage –
‘pressure’, ‘risk’, ‘corporate reputation’ etc. – in order both to protect and enhance share-holder value.

Blind Loyalty
The Stooge’s prime loyalty is to The Corporation - through which he may well believe that he is working for the common good.

The idea that this public good might actually require a profound restructuring of the purpose and ways of his Corporation – let alone the finance-driven economic system to which it is contributing – is not one that he even dares imagine.

Some of these characters are distinctly Machiavellian. They understand that they are playing a highly political game in which there are bound to be casualties – and neither they, nor their companies, are going to be among them.

However, most Sustainability Stooges are more obviously victims. In their search for greater purpose amidst their super-commoditised, spiritually hollow corporate cultures, they somehow manage to delude themselves that their 'win-win solutions’ really can reconcile the current demands of the financial sector with wholly ethical, socially-responsible and environmentally-sound behaviour.

An obvious danger lies in the messianic fervour with which the Stooge frequently preaches his message, appealing to yet more victims in turn. Here, for instance, is a ‘born-again’ external affairs manager at ‘transformed’ Shell, quoted recently in The Observer: “People feel good when they see their personal value system aligned with corporate performance...

It’s exhilarating for them to know that it’s not just how much money you make, but how you make it.”5

From Damaged Characters to Delightful Improvisation…
At this point, we might do well to remind ourselves that, of course, we are all victims of ‘corporate hollowing’ to some extent.

We’re all after greater meaning in our lives, and prone to feel-good initiatives and language that help provide such meaning.
So activists need to beware the Stooge –not just in the corporate world, but maybe in their own sectors too…

Perhaps our efforts should be focused at a slightly deeper level - on the prevention and healing of ‘victimisation’ per se. According to the executive interviewer, Judi Bevan, a great many captains of industry are first-born sons, or only children, who have “usually experienced traumatic loss, or shock, in childhood”.

She reckons that “they all share a deep insecurity”.6 Similarly, many activists will admit to being driven by a sense of hurt: some by the obvious ugliness and injustice of their immediate environment, but others by deeper scars – maybe a difficult family history, or early experiences of prejudice.

So could our ultimate responsibility - as activists or executives – be to focus on the restoration and development of character itself, our own especially?

Genuine Character?
‘Character’ here refers not to some fleeting role, but to an essential, whole, core self. Because it is the recovery and development of such a self – and a self-knowledge – that is key to radical progress in so many respects. Indeed, it might well empower us (whoever we are) to re-cast ourselves in relation to the entire absurdist drama of ‘Financial Performance’ itself! The most gifted improvisers are always those with a root knowledge of themselves - who have accessed the creative, imaginative powers common to us all.

For a start, self-knowledge makes us far less prone to management and ‘commoditisation’ - let alone categorisation. It also makes ‘projections’ less likely - whether activist or Hi-Priest, we’re all prone to neuroses and delusions.

But above all, it inspires the bold forms of improvisation required to encourage all sorts of unlikely fellow ‘players’ to co-produce quite different ‘performances’ altogether.

Or Psychosis?
The trouble is: although the “pivotal” corporate executive is quite capable of releasing the ‘improviser within’ - ‘the activist’, even! - too many of them appear hopelessly stuck in one derivative character.

They follow a script and play their roles – which may provide a rationale, an ‘order’, but one that is all too precarious.

So a tragic psychosis looms. According to the head-hunter John Viney: “You must remember that most people who get to the top of businesses give up almost everything to get there. They’re pretty well one stick short of a bundle – psychologically unbalanced even.”7

Lights Up! Quick.
Nick Mayhew is the Director of Oikos, an organisation dedicated to challenging and helping executives to transcend the limits of their ‘economic bottom-line’.
He would welcome any comments on this article sent to NickM@oikos-uk.com



footnotes:
1 Of course, they are mostly men, so the pronoun ‘he’ is used throughout this article. Even where women have reached positions of corporate authority, there is plenty of evidence to suggest that they have had to take on male traits (eg. aggression, obsessive focus, ‘clubiness’ etc.) and pander to an overwhelmingly masculine culture to succeed. Of course, this, in itself, is a major aspect of corporate life which is so inimical to the multi-cultural, socially-equitable project of ‘sustainable development’.
2 Moral Mazes, Robert Jackall, 1988
3 The Path to Power, Rhymer Rigby in Management Today, 1/9/1998
4 In ‘One World, Ready or Not’, William Greider (1997) concludes that the advanced nations have now entered “a prefascistic situation that will ripen if market imperatives prevail”. This drew on Karl Polanyi’s The Great Transformation (1945): a classic analysis of the history of industrial capitalism, which showed how decades of policies aimed at ‘freeing the market’, inevitably produced the extreme reactions of fascism and communism - as humanity responded at a primordial level to the extreme loss and repression, through ‘commoditisation’, of the Natural and Social dimensions to human life.
Shell’s strategy seems to be to drive banal economic, or market, logics into ever more spheres of life (as it seeks higher financial returns) while simultaneously providing a ‘faux Fatherland’ for the unburdening of humanity’s correspondingly increasing, repressed social and ecological sensibilities. The company then ‘manages’ this unburdening so as to increase faith in its business, and further expand its spheres of influence. This produces greater commoditisation, more banality, increased desire for the company’s social and ecological ‘solutions’, and so on: a self-fulfilling logic with surely dangerous consequences. Note: one of Shell’s much trumpeted ‘Business Principles’ is ‘Competition’(!) under which is stated: “Shell companies support free enterprise.”
5 The Observer, Business Section, 27 June 1999
6 Inside the Entrepreneurs, Judi Bevan in The Sunday Telegraph 22/2/99
7 The Path to Power, Rhymer Rigby in Management Today, 1/9/99