Work in Progress

The common room whiteboard.

It’s to promote discussion.

A spider diagram. Arrows between compassion, empathy, kindness and equity.

Photographs of post-it notes.

That’s from our away-day. Some brainstorming thing about the things we value as a business community.

Reading the notes. Treating others with respect. Caring and being responsive.  Communicating using a personal touch. Adopting a humane approach. Listening intently and explaining logically. Sharing information in a transparent way. Accommodating personal issues or circumstances of others. Valuing the views of others. Counselling and encouraging. Being inclusive as a leader.

Leadership virtues, philosopher.

I guessed.

Reading. Seven virtues of the effective manager: compassion, integrity, gratitude, authenticity, humility and humour. Humour?

We did a whole session on that. Look at the spider diagram.

Reading. Humour = interpersonal competencies in the central bubble. Surrounding it, on post-it notes: warmth, ability to listen, flexible thinking and perspective taking, openness, maturity and kindness.

Another list. Honesty, acceptance, courage, trust, humility, peace, love, joy and kindness. What happened to good old fashioned rapaciousness? To greed is good and so on?

It’s all about servant leadership. Before that it was all authoritarian or heroic models of leadership. Now it’s about demonstrating humility, gratitude, forgiveness, empowerment and altruism. Servant leaders are servant first. They put the needs of others before them. Help people develop.

Selfless.

 

The common room library.

Books they think we should all dip into.

Kind leaders aren’t Sissies. Catchy. You are a Force for the Good. Building a Better World. You guys are idealistic. Transformational relationships. Quiet Leadership.  Emotional Intelligence. Compassion, Cooperation and Connection: A Manifesto for Women Everywhere …

 

The common room noticeboard.

Poster. Mindful Leadership Practice.

A workshop.

Reading. Interpersonal Dynamics: A Meditation and Self-Management Course. Divided into six phases. Dwelling in awe. Tuning into what matters. Doing something kind. Shifting  your perspective. Being a force of good. Celebrating another’s joy. Fuck! Fuck!

I can see you’re really going to fit in here.

Journal of Critical Management Studies. Special edition: Creativity Management … Journal of Inclusive Capitalism … Studies in Conscious Capitalism. Bulletin of the Centre for Compassion and Altruism Research (CCARE). They’re at Stanford. Wow.

The Greater Good Science Centre Bulletin. From Berkeley. Everything’s into this. Another one: Greater Good in Action. Sharing research practices for fostering happiness, resilience, kindness and connection: that’s the tagline.  Centre for Empathy in International Affairs. Promoting empathy in international policy-making and practice. I like these taglines …

Journal of Global Social Responsibility in Business. These guys mean business.

Sure, responsible business.

Business Dialogue magazine. Facilitating discussion among business stakeholders on issues related to local social responsibility and sustainability. Snappy.

The Coalition for Inclusive Capitalism. To make capitalism more equitable, sustainable and inclusive. Impressive … They’re all at it …

Are you always so intense?

Are you always so intense. God.

What do non-intense people talk about? Let me ask you some non-intense questions. Like, regular people questions.

 

Are you living a lie? Is your whole life a lie? Are our whole lives lies? Who’s lying more: me or you? Who’s lying to us?

Don’t you think you’re falling, philosopher? I do. I think I’m falling. Everything in me is falling. I’m depressed, maybe. I feel heavy … Gravity is so strong. My gravity. It’s pulling me down.

I want to cry, philosopher. There’s a great sadness. And it isn’t even mine. There’s a great sadness that just drifts like a cloud. And is drifting through me. The world is sad, philosopher. And I’m sad – terribly sad.

This isn’t our world.

Is that what you believe?

We don’t belong to the world – not to this world.

 

I’m dying inside. I’m numb inside. I don’t feel pain. I don’t feel life. There’s no happiness, philosopher. There’s no joy or laughter anymore.

Laure: how did you get that name, anyway? Are you French?

Half French.

That’s something. That saves you – partly.

You know who the original Laure was, don’t you? The unstable girlfriend of Georges Bataille. Have you heard of him?

I don’t think I have.

He was a mad philosopher. And she wrote deranged poetry and mad essays. And died terribly young. I wonder whether you have any Laure-ness about you …

 

What’s your role in all, Laure?  Are you, like, a mole in Organisational Management? Are you for it or against it? Were you for it and now you’ve flipped? Are you a double agent? Playing both sides? Are you hedging your bets until you see who wins? Do you believe in Organisational Management?

 

I know there are supposed to be philosophers here. Pragmatic ones, who went where the money was. Who got Business Studies scholarships to fund their PhDs. Smart move, now that humanities PhD funding has dried up. And who found themselves Business Studies jobs … Which allow them to hide in plain sight …

They thought they could just lead lives in secret, in business studies departments.  Recognising each other by secret handshakes. Nodding in the corridors. Occasionally meeting in secret for philosophy reading groups. Is that what you are? Are you one of them?

I’m – not – one -of – them.

Then what are you doing here? You don’t believe in any of this. I can tell. Come on – you must have some instinct for freedom. You must know that all this is wrong. You must be very lonely, Laure.

I am lonely, philosopher.

Lonely on this campus, I mean. In the Apex … It’s like you’re part of a philosophy sleeper cell. That even you don’t know about. It’s like you’ve been programmed and then brain-wiped. Like a goodie version of Jason Bourne …

You want to believe in me. That’s nice.

Where are you leading me, anyway?

To the heart of the heart of the heart of the Apex.

I’m lost. So many offices. So many corridors.

 

They’re all curved, these corridors …

Sure – better for thinking. They’re looping.

It’s for inspiration. Getting lost can be productive. Wandering is part of thinking.

Even business thinking?

 

I’m deliberately leading you the long way round.

It’s like we’re following a spiral … These corridors are curved, aren’t they?

Better for thinking. They’re supposed to be inspiring?

Even for business.

You’re still thinking in old-fashioned terms.

 

Is there anyone here, in this building?

No one here, not tonight. They’re either at the party or hobnobbing with the World Economic Forum, or whatever.

 

This building, like, reads us. It can read our minds, practically. The signals we send. Our bodies. Our hormonal levels. It’s supposed to respond to us.  Like, the lighting adjusts to suit you mood. But it’s more than that … Have you heard of sick building syndrome? This is the opposite of that. This is a health-promoting building. It makes you healthier. It cuts down stress. It calms you down. It knows what you need better than you do …

There’s not enough hatred in this building.

Oh, we’re not into hatred. Are you disappointed, philosopher?

 

The infinite ranks of Organisational Managers. The infinite number of offices. All the Organisational Management that gets done here.

Are you being sarcastic?

 

This is like superstar row. These are the big name professors. The big guns, from Penn State and Harvard and so on. The Organisational Management elite. Busy keynoting and publishing in the big ten journals. They have, like personal administrators. And superstar offices.

And these are the offices of the up-and-coming: the NU stars – have you heard of them? Young, thrusting types. Really going places. They’ll join the jetsetting elite …

This is the hospitality suite. For entertaining the grandees from government and business. We have everything ready in case Bill Gates flies in …

 

This is the Dome. It’s, like, a contemplation space. This is where colleagues come when they want to work through a problem. Or just meditate.

Are those lava lights?

Sure. They’re supposed to be restful.

They’re changing colour.

Sure, they’re responding to you.

Fuck you flames. Fuck you, lava lights.

They’re trying to calm you down – do you see?

I don’t want to be calm.

 

This is the Pulse. Our version of a holodeck – or it’s going to be. It’s still in production. It’s a prototype. There’s, like, an AI that can create virtual landscapes.

Switching it on.

See – this is nature. All green and leafy. Come on, it’s pretty convincing, isn’t it?

Sure – because you won’t be able to visit nature anymore soon enough. It’s going to be closed off. Rewilded. It’ll be just for billionaires. We’ll just have the metaverse version. That’s the plan.

There won’t be any farms. Or gardens. Or allotments. Everything’s going to be lab grown. Including us. We’ll be grown – we’ll all be synths. There won’t be anything natural left.

Go on, I’ll bite: what are synths?

Synthetic biology. Lab grown humans. And animals. And everything, really.

I don’t know about that. You might be a synth, you know. Did you ever consider that.

Laure, twiddling a dial. The Pulse will put you anywhere you want in the world. That’s the plan, anyway. We have virtual world developers who work on this stuff … It can actually turn into a disco. This disco ball descends. And there are laser beams … And there are gaming options as well … Great for team building.

Fuck off! Fuck off!

 

Up the spiral staircase.

Where are we going? Can it get any higher? It’s very 60s … very swinging.

See, philosopher: The Observatory. There’s a telescope.

These views … I don’t like it …

Come on, philosopher. It’s majestic! Magnificent! Even you can’t deny that.

This … verticality. I don’t want a panorama. It’s corrupting. It makes me feel too powerful. It’s like the temptations of Jesus – when the devil takes him to  a high place and promises him the world.

 

How deep does this building go? The Apex lift goes down just as far as it goes up – that’s what I heard. You can go right down to minus 23, if you have the clearance.

What’s down there? Tunnels, I heard. A whole secret bunker. An underground city, with its own energy sources and food pods and whatever. For when the zombie invasion arrives.

 

Check this out: the conference room.

It’s built for supervillains. It’s like Dr Evil’s lair. Like something for thirty-third level masons. You could hold meetings of the UN here …

 

It’s a model of the finished campus. How it’s going to be. You can see what the finished monorail will look like. And the spaceport.

And the walls – I didn’t know you were building walls.

They’re the defences. Force fields, I think. To keep out the zombies – that’s what the architects always joke about. But I think they might mean it.

Sure, you need special treatment. That’s why you’re up here, with me. For special one-to-one attention.

 

So you’re the Organisational Management honey trap?

Maybe I am.

You’re the human face of Organisational Management – I get it. The appeal-to-dark-philosophers face … And you’re the Head of Organisational Management’s wife.

Sure.

Tell me, did your husband put you up to this? Meeting me. Taking me aside. Winning me over.

I do what I please.

So this is your solo mission to bring a Philosophy person onside.

To welcome you, philosopher. To bring you in from the cold.

 

My husband would say we need a kick up the rear. Organisational Management always needs a kick up the rear. The only way Organisational Management can improve is by coming up against different views.

 

And what if someone questioned the need for Organisational Management? That Organisational Management should be at all?

That’s allowed.

What if someone said Organisational Management was evil – the greatest evil?

Everything’s open to discussion.  

Everything – which means nothing. Everything’s allowed, which means nothing’s allowed.

 

What is Organisational Management? When did it start? How did it get that name? Why wasn’t it ever heard of before, say, five years ago? Did it just emerge from nowhere?

Business studies just sounded too … business-y. Organisational Management was a better name for what we were about. But I think we might abandon that, in turn. Just call ourselves Sustainable Futures or something …

 

You can really do things here. Effect, like, change. We have the ear of politicians. NGO types. We’re linked to the World Economic Forum. To the United Nations. You can have real impact.  Leave the ivory tower. Just tell us what you want to do.

I don’t want to do anything.

That’s okay, too. Blue sky thinking.

You’re speaking like an android. It isn’t right. Nothing’s right. You don’t believe in this, do you? You don’t actually believe in what you’re saying … I can see it. Behind your eyes … You’re not actually some Organisational Management fembot …

 

They want to reduce Organisational Management groupthink, improving governance and risk management. They want cognitive diversity, not just demographic diversity.

They want to overturn simple models of unanimity. And unquestioned beliefs. That’s the only way we can address global problems. By working together.

That’s what this campus is supposed to be: a home for the world’s brightest minds. Thinkers from outside the box! A way for us to mind meld! To pool our resources!

 

Why did you want Philosophy? Why did you move us here? I mean, you guys already run the university, pretty much. You pretty much rule the world. And now you want to fuck with our heads, too. How can you want more power? More fucking territory to conquer?

Is it because you know that we’ll be your toughest opponents? Because we’ll put up the most resistance? Will be the most critical? The most, like, anti-totalitarian?

We already have a philosopher on staff.

Sure, an analytic philosopher. Like Seven of Nine from Star Trek …

We wanted to bring you Europeans in, too. We need more breadth. We’re supposed to be recruiting mavericks and weirdoes. People who genuinely think outside the box. The twenty per cent per cent of people who don’t go along with things. The future of Organisational Management depends on it.

 

You guys are going to be part of it.

Whether we like it or not, right?

 

Maybe we can teach you things, too.

Pffff …

 

So you’re the Queen of this world.

I’m the consort.

 

Looking down from the mezzanine.

Organisational Managers, so many of them. Organisational Managers, fucking swarming. You guys are fucking legion. And your postgraduates – so smartly dressed. Are they actually wearing uniforms?

Actually, the really big names in Organisational Management aren’t here.

So your husband isn’t one of the big names?

The really big names wouldn’t be involved in administration. Or actual management. Just spiritual management.

 

You know my husband really loves philosophy. That’s what he says: he loves it. He loves what you guys do.

He brought us here because he loves us.

Exactly.

That’s what Stalin said to Shostakovich. We have criticised you, but we did so because we love you …

I don’t think my husband wants to criticize you …

It’s terrible to be loved. It’s terrible to be caught up in someone else’s enthusiasm. Because they’ll inevitably be disappointed with you. When you’re not what they want.

We won’t be disappointed.

Look, philosophy isn’t a toy. It isn’t Organisational Management’s to play with.

I’ve forgotten the world outside. I’ve forgotten everything about it.

That’s how the campus works on you: by pretending that it’s the only world there is. It’s an ontological hijack. It’s a … metaphysical takeover. They’re supplanting the old world with – whatever this is.

They’re casting a spell. It’s black fucking magic. They trying to make us think like victims. They’re trying to drive down our morale. Our fighting spirit.

Well, it’s fucking working! We need to wake up. We need to hulk the fuck out.

 

They’re working on our heads.

Who are?

The behavioural psychologists. They’re nudging us. This whole campus is a nudge. Every bit of it. It’s calculated. It’s precise.  

We’re lacking something. Souls. Where we should have souls, there’s an absence instead. There’s an emptiness. An ache.

 

We’re the ones who will know the disaster. We’re idiots -remember that. It’s part of our mission. It’s part of our destiny. We were made to be stupid. Deeply so. We were made to sink into idiocy – our idiocy, the idiocy of the world. We were made to fall and fall and fall.

 

The campus. It’s an opportunity. To further our world disgust. To carry ourselves into a perfect hatred. To know our absolute tension with the world. To feel ourselves as the opposite of this, all this.

We won’t be able to forget. What we are. What we’re not. What we lack.

We’re sitting round bitching about the new world, and they’re building it. So pragmatic.

 

This is their world. This is the world they wanted – that they created. This is their false world. Except no one thinks it is false.

We do.

What we think doesn’t matter.

 

What has this place got to do with Newcastle? It’s like it’s been beamed in from elsewhere. From science fiction. From 70s SF, trying to imagine the future.

They bought the design from elsewhere – that’s obvious. It’s an international style.

International crap sci-fi design. Like Blake’s Seven, or something.

 

Organisational Management is necessary – deeply so. It’s all that stands between us and chaos. It’s all that saves us from chaos. The experts of Organisational Management are working on it, constantly. On holding chaos back.

Organisational Management know what’s best for us. They correct us when we make the wrong decisions. They steer the great ship away from running aground.

Experts in charge! Who are qualified to know what’s best for us – for society as a whole! They know what’s what! They have the vision!

The managerial revolution! The organisational revolution! They need mass! Scale! In order to operate. Piloting events on a societal level! Organising! Managing! Handling all the problems! The difficult ones! The impossible ones!

They’re dealing with risks, crises, that we can’t even imagine. Vast problems, which require vast solutions. Which require campuses like this. Gargantuaism. Massification. Requires vast networks of brains. Inter and multi disciplinarity: who can doubt it?

We have to entrust our lives to them. They know what they’re doing. And we – we become more helpless, more docile.

 

All of it in their hands: food production, policing, justice, medicine, transportation and above all education. Education is the key!

The university reborn as trade school. The university as a promulgator of skills, not ideals.

They’ve hollowed out the uni. From within! By enforcing the ideal of business-relevance to every discipline. By being more efficient! More far sighted! More able to make their case! More far-seeing! More strategic! More pragmatic! More wily! More cunning!

They deserve to win …

Organisational Management has  got everywhere. It’s even in us. We can feel it, burrowing down. Inside us! Invading us!

 

This is the last gasp of the humanities. We’re its last gasp. Because the humanities have been hollowed out, too.

 

There’s no brilliance here. Brilliance isn’t necessary. Only a logic – a remorseless utilitarian logic. All around us. In glass and steel.