The Follow-Through Is Everything

<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M6d-4wk8kWo/X9pFUW15-xI/AAAAAAABQ3E/WWKUqoAWIp8xOlU17wX__o8KdEdWnkXngCLcBGAsYHQ/s1266/Giovanni%2BSegantini%2B-%2BThe%2BPunishment%2Bof%2BLust.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1266" height="364" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M6d-4wk8kWo/X9pFUW15-xI/AAAAAAABQ3E/WWKUqoAWIp8xOlU17wX__o8KdEdWnkXngCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h364/Giovanni%2BSegantini%2B-%2BThe%2BPunishment%2Bof%2BLust.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=21878638">The Punishment of Lust</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Giovanni Segantini, 1891 (public domain - Google Cultural Institute)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div><p data-pm-context="[]"><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div><hr /></div><p data-pm-context="[]"><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“A great deal in life depends on who smacked your hand at breakfast when you were a child.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p data-pm-context="[]"></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Krzysztof Kieślowski, 1993</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>“Don’t make me turn this car around!”</p><p>Who, having been confined to the backseat of the family wagon, hasn’t heard those words uttered in frustration from the front seat? They’re part of the lore of the family trip.</p><p>But who in reality has experienced dad or mom actually turning the car around and canceling the vacation?</p><p>As children, we’re trained to believe that the worst threats would be fulfilled, with devastating results. Intimidation by corporal punishment (“the belt”) has given way to the terror of revoked screen time — generations separated by virtue of disparate physical objects — evocative of a horrible, dreadful outcome.</p><p>Until those words are backed up with actions, they’re just that: words. But words carry power, and their power is only as effective as our actions.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“If he who breaks the law is not punished, he who obeys it is cheated.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Thomas Szasz, 1973</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>We have rules and expectations for a reason. Leaders understand them, follow them, and talk about them. Leaders in families, leaders in our communities, leaders in corporations. The cliché of leading by example is fundamentally true.</p><p>We communicate with <strong><a href="https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/swindle-fraud/reassuring-words">reassuring words</a></strong> so our values are clear for everyone to see. Here’s an example from a company’s annual report:</p><blockquote><p><em><strong>Respect</strong></em>: We treat others as we would like to be treated ourselves. We do not tolerate abusive or disrespectful treatment. Ruthlessness, callousness, and arrogance don’t belong here.</p><p><em><strong>Integrity</strong></em>: We work with customers and prospects openly, honestly, and sincerely. When we say we will do something, we will do it; when we say we cannot or will not do something, then we won’t do it.</p><p><em><strong>Communication</strong></em>: We have an obligation to communicate. Here, we take the time to talk with one another…and to listen. We believe that information is meant to move and that information moves people.</p><p><em><strong>Excellence</strong></em>: We are satisfied with nothing less than the very best in everything we do. We will continue to raise the bar for everyone. The great fun here will be for all of us to discover just how good we can really be.</p></blockquote><p>Fairly straightforward, right? Written in language everyone can understand and centered around values that are universal, these are innocuous (and some might say generic) values that everyone can agree to follow.</p><p>Except in this case, everyone <em>didn’t</em> agree to abide by them. This is from a 1998 annual report of <strong>Enron</strong>, the energy concern that played fast and very loose with its finances, leading to its demise and criminal charges against executives there.<br /><br /></p><p><strong>Words are worthless without behavior that underscores them</strong>. They become meaningless thought bubbles, wisps of intentions scattered by the winds that whip through a ghost-town of ineffectual action.</p><p>When a company sends out communications with typos or grammatical errors, when an employee talks about grand plans to change a broken process but doesn’t see the project through, when a family member promises cease some behavior that has put a relationship in jeopardy but falls back into the same pattern, what do these things tell you about them?</p><p>Everything communicates.</p><p>This is why Facebook’s constant apologies are empty. They claim they stand for something, or that they made a mistake, yet they continue pushing forward, without oversight, <strong><a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2020/12/facebook-doomsday-machine/617384/">a doomsday machine in motion</a></strong>.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Indifference is… the permanent form of cruelty.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em>— Marcel Proust, 1921</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>Leaders care about the people they serve. And it is just that: service. They know it’s their responsibility to help people improve, achieve more, and become better people.</p><p>It means as a leader, you need to live up to the ideals you set forth for others, and it means following through with consequences.</p><h3><br /><br /><strong>Letting a hero go</strong></h3><p>In the mid-1940s and early 1950s, <strong>General Douglas MacArthur</strong> was a national hero. As General of the Army, he led the Allied forces in the Pacific during World War II and received the Medal of Honor. He was so popular that streets, public works, parks (see what I did there?), and even a dance step were named after him.</p><p>But when he criticized <strong>President Truman’s</strong> limited-war strategy in public (and secretly sent cables to the Tokyo embassies of some European countries that he would push for the war and would win it), it was too much. Truman, by the power granted to him in the Constitution as commander-in-chief, relieved MacArthur of his command.</p><p>It was a bold and severe move, complicated by the public adulation of the military hero. But Truman was always a man of his word — courageous and principled. A man of character.<br /><br /></p><h3><strong>More than what we do: who we are</strong></h3><p>And lest you think this is just about punitive actions, it’s not. When we give our employees benefits like family leave or paid time off, <strong><a href="https://hbr.org/2020/12/im-a-ceo-and-a-working-dad-heres-what-i-wish-i-did-differently">but work right through them ourselves</a></strong>, we’re telling them that work takes priority over family, regardless of our written policies.<br /><br /></p><p>This time of year, parents may have the power of Santa or Elf on a Shelf to back them up, but leaders don’t have those magical beings or the power of the Constitution to issue threats and consequences.</p><p>We do have our convictions though. The values we express. The morals that guide us as individuals and as executives.</p><p>Leading with integrity means following through on your stated intentions.</p><p>When you don’t, it shows.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><br /></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em>For paid subscribers, I’ll see you back here on Friday with more links and recommendations for listening and reading. Get it by signing up:</em></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i> </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div></div><div><br /></div>

The Follow-Through Is Everything

  The Punishment of Lust  by Giovanni Segantini, 1891 (public domain - Google Cultural Institute) “A great deal in life depends on who smack...

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Why Nostalgia Clouds Our Judgment

<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-maGBFQx57fE/X9EU9kycwtI/AAAAAAABQcs/urujN_Ggfk42g7Z8aUZHl0fWe20cZHkZwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/John%2BWilliam%2BWaterhouse%2B-%2BMiranda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="2000" height="474" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-maGBFQx57fE/X9EU9kycwtI/AAAAAAABQcs/urujN_Ggfk42g7Z8aUZHl0fWe20cZHkZwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h474/John%2BWilliam%2BWaterhouse%2B-%2BMiranda.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Miranda_-_John_William_Waterhouse.jpg" target="_blank">Miranda</a></i><span style="text-align: left;"> by John William Waterhouse, 1875 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p><em>In William Shakespeare's The Tempest, Miranda is the daughter of Prospero. She was banished to an island at the age of three, along with her father, where they lived for over a decade with only their only company their slave, Caliban. Miranda is blissfully unaware of the evils of the larger world and is openly compassionate.</em></p><p><em><br /></em></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“We are all sensitive to the splendors of beginnings, to the rare quality of those moments when the present is freed from the past without as yet letting anything shine through of the future that sets it into motion.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Marc Augé, 2004</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>Nostalgia is something of a false prophet. It feeds us powerful visions: memories of a glorious experience of the past—something that makes us long to relive it, like a first visit to a favorite location or a first viewing of a classic film.</p><p>Yet we can never reclaim it.</p><p>Therein lies the deceptive power of nostalgia. It’s able to create a deep and meaningful feeling within us, but it’s not the same as delivering an experience.</p><p>Especially at the holidays, when our playful memories serve up visions of sugarplums, snow angels, and laughter around the fireplace.</p><p>But it isn’t quite powerful enough to inoculate us from the cold reality of recycled fruitcake, scraping ice off of windshields, and the rising voices of family squabbles.</p><p>Why do we go on believing in the romance of the past?</p><p>Nostalgia is defined as “a wistful yearning for a return to some past period or irrecoverable condition.”</p><p>It’s a feeling that wraps around us like a favorite sweater or a particularly enjoyable food from our childhood. The result is a sense of warmth and comfort (hence the term “comfort food”).</p><p>Incidentally, comfort foods don’t contain any magic elixir or healing properties; it’s <strong><a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/comfort-foods-arent-magic-memory-might-be-180961300/">the very memory of them that acts as a gentle salve</a></strong> for our troubled minds. They bring us a sense of belonging.</p><p>And really, isn’t that just what anyone wants? To belong.</p><p>Whether it’s a friend, family member, or an employee on your team, we all want to feel as if we’ve found the proper place in the world, that we’re useful to others, and that we're appreciated.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“But there can be no grave for Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson...Shall they not always live in Baker Street? Are they not there this moment, as one writes? Outside, the hansoms rattle through the rain, and Moriarty plans his latest devilry. Within, the sea-coal flames upon the hearth and Holmes and Watson take their well-won case...So they still live for all that love them well; in a romantic chamber of the heart, in a nostalgic country of the mind, where it is always 1895.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Vincent Starrett, 1933</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>When we wax nostalgic, we call to mind “the good old days,” or that “romantic chamber of the heart” that Vincent Starrett referred to above.</p><p>It’s similar to our discussion of <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/where-have-you-been">origin stories</a></strong> in last Friday’s newsletter. We long for those days when things were simpler, when challengers were fewer, and it was easier to discern between right and wrong.</p><p>Consider Facebook’s initial stated intent of making the world a more connected place, or Google’s pledge to not be evil. Without foreknowledge of the complex world and competing human desires into which technology thrust itself, these platitudes are nostalgic.</p><p>Yet we can never reclaim them. We can’t unring the bell.</p><p>You might even wonder if things ever <em>were</em> that unfettered.</p><p>The unspoken promise of the Make America Great Again message is to return America to a better, simpler time; to some, that means the 1950s, when suburban America was growing, kids were home and at the dinner table at 5:00 pm (which of course the housewife prepared), and life was like an episode of <em>Leave It To Beaver</em>.</p><p>That’s nostalgia.</p><p>The reality, though? Women didn’t have as many choices in terms of careers, were underpaid (and still are), and were victims of sexual harassment that could never be admitted in polite company.</p><p>The Civil Rights Act hadn’t yet been passed, and Black Americans had to fight to eat at the same lunch counters, struggled to be able to vote as easily as everyone else (and still do), and sue their way to be able to attend a local school.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“And the time and place and all the great events are near and dear to us not because our memories call them forth in pure nostalgia, but because they are a part of us today.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Edgar W. Smith, 1946</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>One form of nostalgia practiced in plenty of companies is the classic mantra “we’ve always done it that way.” Defensive long-term employees (those with an institutional memory—which itself isn't a negative) flex their WADITW muscle not by virtue of seniority, but as an autonomous response to avoid change.</p><p><strong>Progress</strong> and <strong>nostalgia</strong> are diametric opposites.</p><p>Progress pushes us forward, sometimes into cold and unfamiliar territory, where we make decisions we’re not comfortable with. We may eventually find our footing, but those first steps can be scary.</p><p>Conversely, nostalgia keeps us rooted in the past. It tethers us to the familiarity and comfort that actions, repeated by rote, bring us over time. The danger is we might be mindlessly moored to ideas and practices, without considering alternatives.</p><p>There’s nothing wrong with evoking nostalgia; many of the retro themes or vintage products we see today (pick your CPG, QSR, or other company of choice—from retro bottles of Mountain Dew to website quizzes on which household items you remember from the '70s or '80s) draw on our collective memories of experiences past.</p><p>Even Ebenezer Scrooge was visited by nostalgia in the form of the Ghost of Christmas Past, which brought him back to his childhood. For a while, he enjoyed it: happy scenes like his beloved sister Fan, a Christmas party hosted by his former boss, Mr. Fezziwig, who treated him like a son, and his fiancée Belle.</p><p>But when the ghost showed him a scene of Belle ending their relationship because she couldn’t be with a man who loved money more than her, the reality was too much for Scrooge:</p><blockquote><p><strong>“Spirit.” said Scrooge in a broken voice, “remove me from this place.”</strong></p><p><strong>“I told you these were shadows of the things that have been,” said the Ghost. “That they are what they are, do not blame me.”</strong></p><p><strong>“Remove me.” Scrooge exclaimed, “I cannot bear it.”</strong></p></blockquote><div class="captioned-image-container"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Il0F75tcqfI/X9EVpXTzYiI/AAAAAAABQc0/WzEoMqzuJksN7seKJG74nFtCBRD_bo9cgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1079/John%2BLeech%2B-%2BScrooge%2BExtinguishes%2Bthe%2BFirst%2Bof%2BThree%2BSpirits%252C%2B1843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1079" data-original-width="852" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Il0F75tcqfI/X9EVpXTzYiI/AAAAAAABQc0/WzEoMqzuJksN7seKJG74nFtCBRD_bo9cgCLcBGAsYHQ/w316-h400/John%2BLeech%2B-%2BScrooge%2BExtinguishes%2Bthe%2BFirst%2Bof%2BThree%2BSpirits%252C%2B1843.jpg" width="316" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Scrooge Extinguishes the First of Three Spirits</i> by John Leech, 1843 <br />(Scanned image by <a href="http://www.victorianweb.org/misc/pvabio.html" style="text-align: left;">Philip V. Allingham</a>)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"><br /><br /></figcaption></figure></div><p></p><p>Marc Auge wrote, “tell me what you forget and I will tell you who you are.” When we gloss over our past or even introduce a romantic, nostalgic element to it, we do a disservice to ourselves and to others.</p><p>When we share stories of our past, it’s perfectly acceptable to yearn for them again. At the same time, we might yearn for a better future by learning from our past.</p><p><br /></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><hr /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br />I'll be back on Friday, but for paid subscribers only. Lots of links and another essay, as well as a book and podcast recommendation. Click below to join.</p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the December 9 issue of the <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div>

Why Nostalgia Clouds Our Judgment

  Miranda  by John William Waterhouse, 1875 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons) In William Shakespeare's The Tempest, Miranda is the dau...

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Grand Symbols Produce Great Expectations

<div style="text-align: left;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q0Ro0tH3npE/X8dG9CBMu-I/AAAAAAABQSw/F35i5UUqPgMLkbcV5GCG-mwOJ-Bqy4mRACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Abraham%2BLouis%2BRodolphe%2BDucros%2B-%2BThe%2BColosseum%252C%2BRome%2B%2528no%2Bdate%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1382" data-original-width="2048" height="432" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q0Ro0tH3npE/X8dG9CBMu-I/AAAAAAABQSw/F35i5UUqPgMLkbcV5GCG-mwOJ-Bqy4mRACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h432/Abraham%2BLouis%2BRodolphe%2BDucros%2B-%2BThe%2BColosseum%252C%2BRome%2B%2528no%2Bdate%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/334465">The Colosseum, Rome</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Abraham Louis Rodolphe Ducros, n.d. (public domain - Metropolitan Museum of Art)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="captioned-image-container" data-pm-context="[]"><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"><br /></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead. Tradition refuses to submit to the small and arrogant oligarchy of those who merely happen to be walking about. All democrats object to men being disqualified by the accident of birth; tradition objects to their being disqualified by the accident of death.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— G.K. Chesterton, 1908</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />I've been thinking a lot about traditions lately. With the holiday season upon us—as we make the stretch from Thanksgiving to the New Year, it's typically laden with traditions.</p><p>Family gatherings, favorite recipes, old decorations, traveling. Individually, these are actions we take that represent the customs we've chosen to maintain.</p><p>But in 2020, with the pandemic bearing down upon us, we've had to forgo some of those traditions. Particularly of the travel and extended family variety. It's a painful reminder that we're not anywhere near being normal, and it forces us to wonder: what new traditions will come out of this?</p><p>We like to think that traditions are immutable customs that we've been repeating for generations, sacrosanct and impervious to the buffets of modern life. They're not manmade like a piece of art, but they grow as a result of the things we do voluntarily rather than instinctively. Our traditions are a matter of choices that we make along the way.</p><p>Since my parents were born right up until I left for college (a timespan of 40-50 years), they understood and participated in the weekly tradition of Sunday dinner with the family (parents, grandparents, etc.). When everyone in the family lived in the same town (or even on the same street!), this was simply how it was done.</p><p>Now, we're scattered to various parts of the country and the frequent dining and visits aren't a tradition. And it's painful to the generation that knew nothing else. To the next generation that never experienced these events, it's not even a subconscious memory. All that remains are the stories we tell each other about our grandparents, our childhood, and other memories of what we did.</p><p><br /></p><h3><strong>Symbols tell powerful stories</strong></h3><p>While we can't necessarily keep every tradition alive, we do have artifacts that help remind us of where we came from and what was important to us. A family portrait, grandmother's china, grandfather's pocket watch, or other mementoes that were strongly associated with a person or event.</p><p>Each year after Thanksgiving, my family decorates our Christmas tree. And each year, decorations and boxes of ornaments seem to be more onerous as they seem to multiply while they're hidden away eleven months a year in the storage area. What was a purely joyous tradition now feels like more like a task. Except.</p><p>Except there's a spark of excitement that's kept alive. It's there in each of us, but it's quickly coaxed to first to a full flame, then to a roaring bonfire—thanks to the pure excitement and joy of our seven year-old daughter.</p><p>She's been looking forward to this with the same intensity as if it were Christmas morning. And the thing is, her cheerfulness exhilarates us in turn.</p><p>The very act of bringing home a tree and putting it in the stand (just some manual labor combined with a sense of balance and the ability to eyeball a plumb line) initiated her elation. Not even the annual “let's find the dead bulb” portion of our festooning of the tree could slow her down.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Pictures painted in childhood are painted in bright hues.”</strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Kate Douglas Wiggin, 1886</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p>The tree itself is a symbol for everything about our Christmas. It means our family gathers around it, we unbox old ornaments and share memories, we drink hot cocoa and listen to Christmas songs on Spotify, all while working diligently to fill the tree — recalling that one time that we overloaded one side of the tree, causing it to tip over.</p><p>All of those memories are triggered by virtue of simply putting the tree in the living room.</p><p>Consider the symbols that humans instantly recognize and what they've meant over the years. The aquila was the golden standard carried by each Roman legion. The gold eagle not only represented each legion but the honor of Rome itself. If they lost a standard, it was considered a grave offense.</p><p><a href="https://www.royalwarrant.org/">Royal Warrants</a> are marks of excellence granted to companies that provide products and services to Queen Elizabeth II, the Duke of Edinburgh, and the Prince of Wales. Grantees are entitled to display the royal arms on their products or places of business, thus demonstrating that they're highly sought after brands.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mMWcqtWvMI4/X8dHcd4V37I/AAAAAAABQS8/denhotnIPqADMqU2EnYQ7OmDmqEty1ZeQCLcBGAsYHQ/s480/royalwarrants.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="185" data-original-width="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mMWcqtWvMI4/X8dHcd4V37I/AAAAAAABQS8/denhotnIPqADMqU2EnYQ7OmDmqEty1ZeQCLcBGAsYHQ/s16000/royalwarrants.png" /></a></div><br /><p>The Nike swoosh, the Apple logo, and even audio logos such as Netflix's “<a href="https://youtu.be/GV3HUDMQ-F8">ta-DUM</a>,” <em>Law & Order's</em> “<a href="https://youtu.be/gP3MuUTmXNk">doink-doink</a>,” or HBO's <a href="https://youtu.be/ZC_uTMkmH08">ident</a> are all powerful symbols. We know what's coming or what's expected when we see them.</p><p>The choices we make, the habits we form, the traditions we build are all connected to symbolism, whether we realize it or not.</p><p>To put it another way, everything communicates.</p><p>And as leaders tasked with communicating to our stakeholders, whether they're employees, customers, investors, the public, friends or family members, every word we utter and every setting we're in will be scrutinized.</p><p>Lest you doubt me, I refer you to The Curious Incident of the Tiny Desk.</p><p>I rest my case.</p><h2><strong><br />An iconic landmark lends its name</strong></h2><p>There's another icon that immediately brings to mind sophistication, pageantry, and centuries of tradition: <strong>Highclere Castle</strong>. Otherwise known as the mansion used in <em>Downton Abbey</em>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t6aUCZXlxXY/X8dHlBEl2dI/AAAAAAABQTA/aoMArwPnyZIo-4AW3KlpY_zbFRyxzH4mACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/HighclereCastle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1433" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t6aUCZXlxXY/X8dHlBEl2dI/AAAAAAABQTA/aoMArwPnyZIo-4AW3KlpY_zbFRyxzH4mACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/HighclereCastle.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>The home and its estate have been used in a number of productions before (my favorite being <em>Jeeves & Wooster</em> with Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie, where it stood in for Totleigh Towers), and it is instantly recognizable.</p><p>Imagine my surprise then, when I received a note from the purveyors of <strong><a href="https://www.highclerecastlespirits.com/">Highclere Castle Gin</a></strong>. While I'm a gin drinker, I'm not a reviewer. But I had to know more about the choice of this symbol of luxury with respect to this spirit.</p><p>The background materials told me the estate is a visible link to history: over 1,000 acres of parkland surrounded by rolling hills and containing the finest occupied Victorian mansion in England. The 8th Earl of Carnarvon and Lady Carnarvon are part of a family that has lived in the home for more than 300 years.</p><p>But this isn't the case of taking a recognizable symbol like Highclere and simply slapping it on a bottle of gin. As it happens, the ingredients and the distillation process are authentically Highclere, as you’ll learn below.</p><p>In short, this product not only came with a symbol, it came with a story as well. A story that involves history and the modern era. In short, the kind of thing appropriate for <em><strong>Timeless & Timely</strong></em>.</p><p>So I reached out to <strong><a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/adamvongootkin/">Adam von Gootkin</a></strong>, a spirits entrepreneur who, together with the Earl and Lady Carnarvon, founded Highclere Castle Gin, to understand more about his vision.</p><p>The following are excerpts from our interview.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><h4><strong>Timeless & Timely: What is it about gin that makes it so popular — not only in recent years, but as a timeless classic?</strong></h4><p><strong>Adam von Gootkin:</strong> I think consumers are rediscovering that gin adds a level of sophistication to cocktails that vodka cannot. Vodka, of course is defined as flavorless, odorless alcohol molecules which when described like that hardly makes me think of a luxurious decadent flavor extravaganza.</p><p>Gin is both ancient while incorporating the beautiful botanical notes that lend themselves to a complex or simple cocktail and ultimately to a flavor experience that the more refined customer is seeking. With Highclere Castle Gin this is expressed in the liquified heritage and history of Highclere Castle, the hundreds of years of the highest quality of entertaining with gin and of course the integrating of the beautiful citrus and botanicals from the Highclere estate. </p><p>Before prohibition the cocktail concept was rather new. On the world stage there existed gin, scotch, rum, cognac and bourbon as more or less the only players in spirits. As the cocktail culture developed, gin took center stage in the ability to bring to life beautiful cocktails.<br /><br /></p><p></p><h4><strong>Gin had its origins as a medicinal drink, and later was used to mask the flavor of quinine, the antimalarial compound. Given this background, what has it been like selling gin during a global pandemic? What challenges did you face and how did you address them? Has 2020, beyond the obvious, brought any surprises to you as a founder?</strong></h4><p>In 2019 global demand for our gin was growing at a rate that we didn’t expect. We launched 25 US markets in addition to the UK, France and Switzerland. By the time the pandemic hit, we were just beginning our first spring cocktail gin and tonic season with plans to expand in Europe, Canada, US and Latin America. Obviously as the hospitality industry shut down as did many of our distributers, we were left with fantastic launch plans and no launches, strategies bereft of tactics.</p><p>We realized we needed an entirely new strategy to be expressed with nimble tactics. This resulted in plans to focus on core markets going deep with our key retailers and restaurants that were the best in their market and the greatest fit for Highclere Castle Gin. We have accomplished this and have learned much through this pivot.</p><p>My belief is if you can successfully survive a global shut down while protecting your team and the integrity of the brand and still be prepared to come out swinging that you are in fact a business with a reason to exist. Highclere Castle has survived a multitude of global calamities, struggles and challenges and yet will be here a hundred years from now. And so will Highclere Castle Gin.<br /><br /></p><p></p><h4><strong>What was your strategy to make the brand stand out?</strong></h4><p>In a world where the vast majority are concocted in marketing boardrooms, I find it rather easy to stand out when you have a true commitment to authenticity. Highclere Castle Gin is a spirit that redefines the gin category.</p><p>Through the commitment of sustainable farming, the protection of ancient botanical gardens, and the stories of Highclere’s exceptional level of hospitality and hosting many of the worlds most interesting people over gin cocktails we bring to life a brand that represents the noble aspiration of being the very best. </p><p>In terms of our marketing strategy, I believe that advertising in general is a tax you pay for not being creative. We are very social media- and PR-oriented to tell the soul of our brand’s story. Lady Carnarvon does the most amazing job from the castle and our team further amplifies the beauty and uniqueness of Highclere Castle Gin throughout the world.<br /><br /></p><p></p><h4><strong>When there are so many gimmicky marketing and branding efforts, just what is it about Highclere Castle Gin that makes it more authentic than others?</strong></h4><p>First, Highclere Castle is real place. A special place representing the best of British hospitality, lifestyle, customs, and traditions. It is both a working estate, a farm, a country home. There to provide beauty and pleasure to the public and memories and experience for special guests.</p><p>Highclere Castle Gin represents the style of country living and the pedigree of the eight generations of Earls of Carnarvons who have placed their hearts and souls into maintaining the standard. Lord and Lady Carnarvon are active partners in the business, both caring for the botanicals and taking a strong lead in the brand ambassadorship. Ultimately the castle and the estate are the brand’s home and people come from around the world to experience it.</p><p>Second, the most important thing about any spirit is the flavor. We invested over a year and a half on the recipe design. Neither time nor cost was our God. The mission, to create the finest gin that has ever been birthed from a copper still. Connoisseurs from around the world are spreading the world that it’s the first gin you can actually sip on the rocks and it’s brilliant in how it shines in cocktails.</p><p>Lastly, Highclere Castle Gin is distilled in England’s oldest gin distillery located above an ancient underground water source. It is hand crafted and distilled in England’s oldest copper gin still. We spent over four years developing the brand including the recipe, bottle design and finding the right partners to distribute it carefully and thoughtfully around the world.</p><div><hr /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TCYchwJae2I/X8dIRu2HdwI/AAAAAAABQTU/uwx8sLeqgzc8kms1aPMwjumjCmqjhGhOgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1232/Highclere%2BGin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="924" data-original-width="1232" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TCYchwJae2I/X8dIRu2HdwI/AAAAAAABQTU/uwx8sLeqgzc8kms1aPMwjumjCmqjhGhOgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/Highclere%2BGin.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Just another day at the office</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><br /></figure></div><p>As you can see, the bottle itself is iconic. And after tasting the gin myself, there's no gimmick about this. It's earned its place as a favorite in my home bar.</p><p>Let's call it one of the new traditions we're establishing over the holidays.</p><p>May the traditions you create and follow be surrounded by anticipation, expectation, and fulfillment.<br /></p><p><br /></p><p><em><strong>Disclosure</strong>: I was provided one bottle of Highclere Castle Gin from the distributors.</em></p><p><br /></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><hr /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I'll be back on Friday, but for paid subscribers only. Lots of links and another essay, as well as a book recommendation you won't want to miss. Click below to join.</p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the December 2 issue of the <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div>

Grand Symbols Produce Great Expectations

  The Colosseum, Rome  by Abraham Louis Rodolphe Ducros, n.d. (public domain - Metropolitan Museum of Art) “Tradition means giving votes to ...

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Big Country for Leadership

<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m7CDRg4jL3c/X7VHxd0Sn1I/AAAAAAABQHQ/fa_uwcGcx8MqhG5H2QdwgIcxBnugH3h3gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1023/Albert%2BBierstadt%2B-%2BAmong%2Bthe%2BSierra%2BNevada%252C%2BCalifornia.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="1023" height="382" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m7CDRg4jL3c/X7VHxd0Sn1I/AAAAAAABQHQ/fa_uwcGcx8MqhG5H2QdwgIcxBnugH3h3gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h382/Albert%2BBierstadt%2B-%2BAmong%2Bthe%2BSierra%2BNevada%252C%2BCalifornia.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Albert_Bierstadt_-_Among_the_Sierra_Nevada,_California_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg">Among the Sierra Nevada, California</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Albert Bierstadt, 1868 (public domain - Wikipedia)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="captioned-image-container" data-pm-context="[]"><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"><br /></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>"And this our life, exempt from public haunt,</strong></em></strong></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,</strong></em></strong></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>Sermons in stones, and good in every thing."</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— William Shakespeare, 1599</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />We can find inspiration anywhere we look, if we keep the proper mindset.</p><p>Gratitude combined with curiosity — being a lifelong learner — is a formula that can set us up for success.</p><p>I usually pull stories from history or literature as guides for leadership and communication. In this case, I'm going to switch it up a bit.</p><p>Last week I came across a scene in the 1958 Academy Award-winning film <em><strong><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0051411/">The Big Country</a></strong></em> that gave me pause.</p><p>In this edition of Timeless & Timely, I'm going to take you through the scene and point out some key takeaways for leaders. And in a gutsy move, in Friday's edition I'm going to analyze the "Main Title" from the soundtrack by Jerome Moss as one befitting leaders. You won't want to miss that, so <b><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/suscribe" target="_blank">sign up as a paid subscriber now</a></b>.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><br />The Big Country</em> is an epic Western directed by William Wyler (who also directed <em>Ben Hur</em>, <em>Roman Holiday</em>, <em>The Best Years of Our Lives</em>) and starring Gregory Peck, Jean Simmons, Burl Ives, Charlton Heston and Chuck Connors. It follows retired sea captain <strong>James McKay</strong> (Peck) who heads out west to meet up with his fiancée and her family, the Terrills.</p><p>The Terrills are ranchers have an ongoing feud with another family of ranchers, the Hannasseys. (Incidentally, a recent issue of the newsletter, "<strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/concession-stand">Concession Stand</a></strong>," concerned feuds.) Burl Ives plays <strong>Rufus</strong>, the clan's father; Chuck Connors plays his hot-headed son <strong>Buck</strong>.</p><p>Between the two properties is an abandoned ranch house called "Big Muddy" which sits on land that includes the river that's a source of water for both sets of cattle, particularly during times of drought. <strong>Julie Maragon</strong> (Simmons) owns the house and sells it to McKay, who agrees to continue her tradition of allowing both families' cattle access to the river.</p><p>Meanwhile, Buck tries to persuade Rufus that he is planning to marry Julie. Buck brings her to the Hannessey's, in hopes of persuading her to sell Big Muddy to him and get married, but Julie reveals that she sold it already, and Rufus realizes her interest is in McKay.</p><p>Because he knows the <strong>Major</strong> (head of the Terrill family) will attempt to rescue her, Buck takes Julie hostage, hoping to ambush him in the canyon leading to his homestead. Although McKay personally promises Rufus equal access to the water, he finds himself in a clash with Buck, which is ultimately settled with a duel—a duel with the very set of dueling pistols that McKay presented to the Major.</p><p>And here we pick up at <strong><a href="https://youtu.be/Hw2D9eFrIao">the duel scene</a></strong>:</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Hw2D9eFrIao" width="560"></iframe></p><p><br />This scene is one of the reasons Burl Ives received an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for this film. It’s a powerful demonstration of conflicting emotions.</p><p>Duels are based on a code of honor—typically honor that the challenger wishes to restore. Participants are expected to act with honor in carrying out the duel, and that also goes for the seconds, who act as representatives to the two parties.</p><p>In the case of the duel in <em>The Big Country</em>, Rufus acted as a neutral second for Buck and McKay, laying out the rules very plainly:</p><p><em><strong>“If either man tries to beat the signal, it's my duty to shoot him down like a dog, and I'll do it. So help me. This thing's gonna be done right and proper.”</strong></em></p><p>Buck fires before the signal, but misses, his bullet grazing McKay's forehead and leaving McKay with a free shot. As McKay prepares his shot, Buck responds in a craven and cowardly way, attempting to fire the pistol again and then cowering in fear as he hides behind a wagon wheel.</p><p>Rufus knows that the duel must be completed in the right and honorable way. We can see him struggling with his role and his underlying emotions, knowing that his son is a coward and violated the rules, as he insists McKay take his shot.</p><p>McKay, thoroughly disgusted by Buck's behavior, fires his shot into the ground, thereby requiring Rufus to fulfill his prophecy. Seeing an opportunity to kill McKay, Buck snatches another gun from a nearby cowboy. Rufus shoots him on the spot.</p><p>As Rufus approaches Buck, he varies between anger and anguish: anger over Buck's repeated dishonorable actions, even after Rufus warned him. And anguish over having to shoot his own son, who then dies in his arms.</p><p><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Leadership Lessons</strong></h2><p>Both McKay and Rufus give us lessons here. Lessons on de-escalation, grace, integrity, honor, and making difficult choices.</p><p>Buck is eager to fight, goading McKay on, while McKay prefers to settle things amicably, as evidenced through his willingness to allow both families' cattle access to his land. He clearly doesn't like confrontation, and even when he has a chance to honorably kill his opponent, he chooses to de-escalate. He handles himself with <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/god-shed-his-grace-on-thee">grace</a></strong>.</p><p>We all have situations in which we find ourselves when we might humiliate a competitor or a peer. It's the easy thing to do (and in some cases, it the schadenfreude might feel good). But it's not honorable. If we allow them to save face or to make their own choices in such situations, we'll show them the importance of grace and generosity in leadership.</p><p>Rufus does what every good leader should do: he communicates his vision and intention clearly, using plainspoken language. When faced with a situation that tests his moral compass, he keeps his true north, as difficult as it was. He knew that his honor and integrity rested on <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/say-what-you-do-and-do-what-you-say">staying true to his word</a></strong>.</p><p>If you're going to stand for something—so many brands claiming the moral high ground with "purpose-based marketing" these days—then you need to exhibit it at every turn. It's not enough to slap "purpose" on something, in the way that many companies have hidden behind their corporate social responsibility (CSR) efforts.</p><p>Purpose, values, and integrity are inextricably linked. The moment you act in a way that violates one of them, the whole house of cards comes down.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p>I'll be back later this week for subscribers with some commentary on Jerome Moross's theme to <i>The Big Country</i> and how it showed leadership. I hope you'll <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/subscribe">join as a subscriber</a></strong> to get that.</p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the November 18 issue of the <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div>

Big Country for Leadership

Among the Sierra Nevada, California  by Albert Bierstadt, 1868 (public domain - Wikipedia) "And this our life, exempt from public haunt...

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Finding Positives in a Pandemic

<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1M2XOLrMVSI/X6uOnvVjamI/AAAAAAABP8s/gJlQ8nQQ9WcoLngGrL0QYLha6rK8lsbHgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1024/Michiel%2BSweerts%2B-%2BPlague%2Bin%2Ban%2BAncient%2BCity.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img alt="Painting of people laying around an ancient city as they suffer from the plague" border="0" data-original-height="704" data-original-width="1024" height="440" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1M2XOLrMVSI/X6uOnvVjamI/AAAAAAABP8s/gJlQ8nQQ9WcoLngGrL0QYLha6rK8lsbHgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h440/Michiel%2BSweerts%2B-%2BPlague%2Bin%2Ban%2BAncient%2BCity.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><figcaption class="image-caption" data-pm-context="["captionedImage",null]"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Plague_in_an_Ancient_City_LACMA_AC1997.10.1_(1_of_2).jpg" target="_blank">Plague in an Ancient City</a></em> by Michiel Sweerts, c. 1653 (public domain - Wikipedia)</span></figcaption></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><hr /></div></div><div><p data-pm-context="[]"><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>"What we learn in the time of pestilence: that there are more things to admire in men than to despise." </strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p data-pm-context="[]"></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Albert Camus, 1947</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p>The story I'll share with you in this edition of the newsletter is more personal than most. But the lessons are universal.</p><p>A couple of weeks ago, I tested positive for Covid-19.</p><p>It was a complete surprise, since I haven't traveled since March when I returned from a client meeting in New York. Sure, I make occasional runs to the supermarket or the post office, but I don't linger, I maintain distance, and I always wear a mask.</p><p>I developed some symptoms of what I thought was a mild cold: congestion, aches, a bit of a cough, and a fever. But when I came in from a couple of hours outside mowing, I felt completely wiped out. Abnormally so.</p><p>So I went for a rapid test and a regular test. I was one of the first to arrive in the parking lot, securing a spot in front of the medical testing facility. They took my paperwork, swabbed me a couple of times, and I was on my way in 10 minutes. During that time though, the line of cars began to build up, until it rambled around the parking lot in a serpentine-like pattern.</p><p>By late morning, I had my diagnosis: positive. I had to ask the technician to repeat it because I didn't believe it.</p><p>Yes, positive. And I needed to quarantine for 10-14 days. The longer-form test confirmed this the following day.</p><p>At home, it's my wife and our three children; the two oldest (both boys) had also experienced some symptoms about a week prior to mine, so they all went off to get tested. Spoiler alert: the boys also tested positive; my wife and daughter tested negative.</p><p>Based on the timing, the boys were beyond contagion stage, so I was the one who needed to isolate for at least 10 days. We discussed the options, given the rooms each of us needed to use, and I set myself up.</p><p>Convalescence is drudgery, particularly when you're confined to a small space. You have a singular focus: to get better. You pass the time between fitful naps catching up on email, reading, watching, listening.</p><p>Thinking for a moment of my days spent in corporate environments, it was reminiscent a task force or committee that adjourns to the same conference room for every meeting, tasked with a tough assignment. In an almost Groundhog Day-like state, the team just goes through the same motions, in a seemingly unending replay of agendas.</p><p>My symptoms were mild; the fever abated, but the rest remained. It felt less like I was making progress on my health and more as if I was marking the days of penal servitude.</p><p>The isolation was the hardest part of this. I had very little interaction with anyone in the house, barring seeing them down the hallway as I headed to the bathroom. My wife would knock when she left my meals outside the door. It was like solitary confinement.</p><p>I've been fortunate that haven't suffered physically as much as some others. Right now, it's like a cold, but doesn't feel quite the same. It's hard to explain. Congestion, a slight cough, and feeling fatigued on random days for no reason.</p><p>Being alone gave me plenty of time to think (amid binging old episodes of "The West Wing," writing my newsletters, editing podcast episodes, and reading), and here are a few items I wanted to share:</p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Sometimes we have to make hard decisions.</strong></h3><p>I could have roamed free around the house, but I would have needlessly exposed family members to possible infection. So I took the solitary confinement route. As a society, we face some difficult decisions in the months ahead: giving up traveling to see family for Thanksgiving and Christmas may be among them.</p><p>This isn't a new concept; a letter from 640—as the Justinian plague was entering its eighth wave over 100 years—shows <strong><a href="https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/roundtable/stay-home-all-ye-faithful">the efficacy of travel bans during outbreaks</a></strong>.<br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Life is fragile.</strong></h3><p>One moment, we're walking around fine, the next moment we can find ourselves afflicted with something we didn't know we were exposed to. And even the healthiest among us are susceptible. I was fortunate, but nearly 240,000 others in America weren't. Life is a gift.<br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Humans aren't designed to be alone.</strong></h3><p>While Friedrich Nietzsche may have believed that "The sick man is the parasite of society," the reality is we need each other to survive, in person or through whatever communications methods we have.</p><p>Whether we express this through the delivery of food (through a slot in a door, a friendly neighbor dropping off a casserole, or a DoorDash delivery) or checking in with each other via text, FaceTime, Zoom call, email or good old fashioned letters. Keeping in touch and constantly communicating is a human necessity.<br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Friendships matter.</strong></h3><p>The number of comments I got on <strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/scottmonty/posts/10157344815461625">the post where I shared my positive diagnosis</a></strong> were astounding. As in too many to keep up with. I'm still trying to get back to as many people as possible, but it's going to take a while. It was a powerful reminder that those connections we make and relationships we build need our attention.</p><p>How often do you keep up the relationships you have, both personal and professional? In his newsletter For The Interested, Josh Spector shared this wonderful formula for <strong><a href="https://medium.com/curious/4-simple-emails-you-should-send-every-week-bc3e085ed496">the four emails you should send every week</a></strong>.</p><p>Summed up, they are: to an old friend; to a potential mentor; to someone you used to work with; and a message of support.<br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Family matters more.</strong></h3><p>In the end, the people we love are the ones who'll see us back to health or help us ease our way from this mortal coil. Having them in our lives is the best thing we can do for our lives. From receiving little "good night" notes from my youngest, to the goofy memes I'd text back and forth with my sons, to my loving wife's constant checking in on me and bringing me anything I needed—including some really nice meals—my family was so supportive.<br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><strong>Having to wait improves decision making.</strong></h3><p>When you're laid up and you can't get things for yourself, you become very aware and deliberate about your choices. No more wandering aimlessly to the pantry or rummaging around the fridge for whatever. Part of it was that I didn't want to put my wife to too much trouble by bugging her too much, but also that I knew there were things I didn't "need" — things that I could do without.</p><p>How much to we consume or do simply because it's easy to do? If you're finding yourself mindlessly doomscrolling, it's because it's easy. That thumb swipe is simple yet powerful, bringing so much information, rich and mind-numbing, to your eyes.</p><p>You know what's harder to do? To make yourself get out of a chair and take a walk. To sit down with a book, for an hour or two, uninterrupted. To write a letter you've been meaning to send. To make a phone call to someone who would benefit from hearing from you.</p><p>Not everything needs your attention now. You aren't required to respond instantly. Take some time. Deliberate. Free your mind from the pressures of the immediate.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>"In the arts of life, man invents nothing; but in the arts of death, he outdoes nature herself and produces by chemistry and machinery all the slaughter of plague, pestilence, and famine." </strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— George Bernard Shaw, 1905</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>Clearly my time alone meant I could contemplate these things and more. But I wouldn't recommend you going out and getting infected so you can have your own epiphany (see how hard I'm working for you?).</p><p>Was my situation unfortunate? Could I have lamented my bad luck and concentrated on the tortuous existence? Of course. But I also knew that there are others who are worse off: alone since March; tethered to a ventilator in an intensive care unit; unable to say a final goodbye to loved ones in person.</p><p>Life greets us with many twists and turns and we find ourselves in situations we didn’t cause and that we can’t control. The only thing we can control is how we react.</p><p>Our circumstances and the events around us are gifts. Gifts that we can turn down or gifts that we can accept with a grace, a full heart, and an open mind.</p><p>For it is through those that we find growth.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><h1><strong>Announcement</strong></h1><p>On Thursday, November 19 at noon EST, I'll be giving a live talk on <strong><a href="https://scottmontystrategies.regfox.com/transformational-storytelling">Transformational Storytelling</a></strong>. This is a talk that big companies and events hire me to give, to help their teams understand some of the classic elements of stories and how to rethink the storytelling process.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{"url":"https://scottmontystrategies.regfox.com/transformational-storytelling","text":"Register Now","class":null}" style="text-align: center;"><a class="button primary" href="https://scottmontystrategies.regfox.com/transformational-storytelling"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Register Now</span></b></a></p><p>Whether you work for a multinational conglomerate, a brand, or an agency, or you're a solopreneur—you can learn to communicate in a way that connects with audiences and inspires them to take action. It's all in the power of storytelling.</p><p>The cost to attend, including time for Q&A, is just <strong>$49</strong>. If you <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/subscribe">sign up as an annual paid subscriber to Timeless & Timely</a></strong>, you can attend for free. Just message me for the discount code.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /><br /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><em>If you <strong><a href="https://scottmonty.substack.com/subscribe" style="color: #280170; text-decoration-line: none;">become a subscriber</a></strong>, you'll get part 2 of this topic, including three timely links, three timeless stories, and a recommended book and podcast.</em></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the November 11 issue of the <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div></div>

Finding Positives in a Pandemic

Plague in an Ancient City by Michiel Sweerts, c. 1653 (public domain - Wikipedia) "What we learn in the time of pestilence: that there...

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God Shed His Grace on Thee

<div class="separator"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_FF_mqoO8Lc/X6IwClavK3I/AAAAAAABP5M/whz-Sb7aYIYBXtaYEdu2zT49iXSzNSnLQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1509/John%2BJames%2BBarralet%2B-%2BAmerica%2BGuided%2Bby%2BWisdom.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Painting by John James Baralett of the goddess of Wisdom, is pointing to a shield, supported by the Genius of America, bearing the arms of the United States, with the motto UNION AND INDEPENDENCE" border="0" data-original-height="1124" data-original-width="1509" height="476" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_FF_mqoO8Lc/X6IwClavK3I/AAAAAAABP5M/whz-Sb7aYIYBXtaYEdu2zT49iXSzNSnLQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h476/John%2BJames%2BBarralet%2B-%2BAmerica%2BGuided%2Bby%2BWisdom.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2010634241/" target="_blank">America Guided by Wisdom: An allegorical representation of the United States depicting their independence and prosperity</a></i> by John James Barralet, 1815 (public domain — Library of Congress)</div></span><p></p><p><br /></p><div class="captioned-image-container" data-pm-context="[]"><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“If you are ferocious in battle, remember to be magnanimous in victory.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Commander Tim Collins, 2003</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />As children, we learn that there’s no honor in being a sore loser.</p><p>We’re taught to shake hands and wish our opponents well, even if it means feigning happiness or enthusiasm for them.</p><p>But we also learn there’s no honor in being a sore winner, either.</p><p>No one likes someone who gloats, makes merry or rubs it in at their opponent’s expense.</p><p>These simple examples are representative of the concept of <strong>grace</strong>.</p><p>Grace has a number of definitions, from the more physical, meaning elegance of movement, to the religious, signifying the favor of God.</p><p>For our purposes, let’s focus on the definition of grace that means courteous goodwill. Magnanimity, if you will.</p><p>I’m reminded of the three Graces of mythology—the three daughters of Zeus and Hera: Aglaia (Brightness), Euphrosyne (Joyfulness), and Thalia (Bloom). Together, they were considered goddesses of charm and beauty.</p><p>To be able to wish an opponent well after a long and hard-fought battle takes charm. It takes grace. </p><p>And yet, we’re not always able to muster that strength.</p><p>Being magnanimous is a show of strength, not weakness—much like <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/vulnerability-and-leadership">vulnerability</a></strong> and <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/humility-or-futility">humility</a></strong> (leadership qualities we’ve discussed here previously). It takes a person with real character to cross that aisle and shake the hand, or to wish the other well, and to do it sincerely.</p><p>This? This is an example of the opposite:</p><blockquote class="twitter-tweet tw-align-center"><p dir="ltr" lang="en">Cry more, lib.</p>— Madison Cawthorn (@CawthornforNC) <a href="https://twitter.com/CawthornforNC/status/1323813315169165313?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">November 4, 2020</a></blockquote> <script async="" charset="utf-8" src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script><br />This is what the people of North Carolina elected last night.<p><br /></p><p>And while our election may seem like one of the most contentious, one of the most hard fought in recent history, it pales in comparison to the time our nation went to war against itself, losing nearly 620,000 men to the cause.</p><p>The war contained some of the most bloody battles in our nation’s history. At Gettysburg alone, there were over 7,000 deaths plus another 33,000 or so injured. At Little Round Top on that first day of battle at Gettysburg, Colonel Joshua Chamberlain led the efforts to hold the high ground. He became known as “Lion of the Round Top,” and thanks to his leadership, the 20th Maine regiment fended off the area from rebel forces with valor; had they not, the outcome may have been quite different. </p><p>But his truest act of leadership came two years later, when Col. Chamberlain was present in Appomattox when Confederate General Robert E. Lee surrendered to General Ulysses S. Grant. When the defeated rebels paraded past, <strong>Chamberlain ordered Union troops to dip the regimental colors as a sign of respect for a beaten foe</strong>. </p><p>What Chamberlain did, after all the blood, the years of fighting, in the wake of 618,000 deaths, made reunification a possibility.</p><p>He didn’t say, “Cry more, reb.”</p><p>He demonstrated grace.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>― Abraham Lincoln, 1861</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /><br /></div><h2><strong>America, the Beautiful</strong></h2><p>Ronald Reagan called America “the shining city on a hill.” He appealed to the hopes and dreams we share, appealing to our “better angels,” as Abraham Lincoln called them.</p><p>Lincoln’s quote above is taken from the closing line of his first inaugural address. Lincoln, if you'll recall, was the surprise nominee, from amid a field of candidates that included the old guard, such as William H. Seward, a former governor of New York and United States Senator; Salmon P. Chase, governor of Ohio; and Edward Bates, a former member of the U.S. House of Representatives. Lincoln secured the nomination, went on to win the general election, then in one of the most magnanimous gestures—a political masterstroke—he named these men to his cabinet.</p><p>This “team of rivals,” as they became known, was more invested in the country’s and Lincoln’s success rather than tearing it down and working against him. By extending a kind hand and showing them the grace that he thought they were owed, he got their loyalty.</p><p>The history of our country is filled with events and gestures, both small and large, written by men and women who were both petty and magnanimous, but who, were all imperfect humans.</p><p>Humans who need to ask for God’s grace as well as the grace of each other.</p><p>In closing, I’d like to consider some of the lyrics from the well-known anthem “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/America_the_Beautiful">America the Beautiful</a>,” as perhaps an key to what our country is crying out for right now.</p><p>The lyrics were adapted from a poem first written by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Katharine_Lee_Bates">Katharine Lee Bates</a> in 1893 and set to music by Samuel A. Ward (incidentally the organist at Grace Episcopal Church in Newark) posthumously in 1903.</p><p>You know how it goes:</p><p><strong>“O beautiful for spacious skies, / For amber waves of grain.”</strong></p><p>The refrain in each verse begins with “America! America!” and then there are three different variations:</p><blockquote><p><strong>“God shed His grace on thee<br />And crown thy good with brotherhood<br />From sea to shining sea!”</strong></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><strong>“God mend thine every flaw,<br />Confirm thy soul in self-control,<br />Thy liberty in law!”</strong></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><strong>“May God thy gold refine,<br />Till all success be nobleness,<br />And every gain divine!”</strong></p></blockquote><p>Each of those refrains is not a statement of what has happened or what is in place. “God shed his grace on thee” isn't something that God already did.</p><p>Those are wishes. Plaintive pleas. An appeal to our better angels.</p><p>We’re looking for grace. We need our flaws to be mended. We should share the succor of our successes.</p><p>This is a great journey that we’re on, and we share the road. In so doing, we owe one another the best of what we have to offer, regardless of circumstances.</p><p>We should practice being gracious.</p><p>Particularly to those whom we’ve delivered a setback. Because we are not enemies, but friends. </p><p>God shed his grace on thee.</p><div><br /><hr /><br /></div><div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><em>If you <strong><a href="https://scottmonty.substack.com/subscribe" style="color: #280170; text-decoration-line: none;">become a subscriber</a></strong>, you'll get part 2 of this topic, including three timely links, three timeless stories, and a recommended book and podcast.</em></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the November 4 issue of the <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div></div><p></p>

God Shed His Grace on Thee

America Guided by Wisdom: An allegorical representation of the United States depicting their independence and prosperity by John James Barr...

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Should You Mix Business and Politics?

<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Tm0kQLYepc/X5mwkblVLOI/AAAAAAABPy4/yAt8snqmOLYx_iZsFhXkBVBv3K2SOF_SACLcBGAsYHQ/s2024/William%2BHogarth%2B-%2BThe%2BHumours%2Bof%2Ban%2BElection%2B-%2BThe%2BPolling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1577" data-original-width="2024" height="498" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Tm0kQLYepc/X5mwkblVLOI/AAAAAAABPy4/yAt8snqmOLYx_iZsFhXkBVBv3K2SOF_SACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h498/William%2BHogarth%2B-%2BThe%2BHumours%2Bof%2Ban%2BElection%2B-%2BThe%2BPolling.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;">The Humours of an Election — The Polling</em><span style="text-align: left;"> by William Hogarth, 1755 (public domain - Wikipedia)</span></span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“A real leader is somebody who can help us overcome the limitations of our own individual laziness and selfishness and weakness and fear and get us to do better, harder things than we can get ourselves to do on our own.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— David Foster Wallace, 2000</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p>In the United States, Election Day is November 3rd. I don't need to tell you that—virtually everywhere you go, the internet, airwaves, and outdoor are plastered with reminders. Like the pandemic, it's part of the daily drumbeat of news and of our lives.</p><p>Given that politics commands so much attention, that leaves business leaders with tough decisions about how to stand out and get their messages heard. It also raises a critical question: when (if ever) is it okay to venture into a political issue?</p><p>Politics and religion are like the third rail of conversation. Whether at Thanksgiving dinner with family or in social settings with un familiar faces, it's generally accepted that it's impolite to launch into these topics for fear of offending or alienating someone.</p><p>The same has been true of businesses. When I was an executive at Ford Motor Company—and a very visible one online—I had to stifle any political commentary. The rationale was that we made cars for people of all political affiliations, and my personal views couldn't distract from our main effort.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“I am invariably of the politics of the people at whose table I sit, or beneath whose roof I sleep.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— George Borrow, 1843</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>Businesses are deeply involved in politics, make no mistake. Teams of people make up public policy and government affairs teams, which are tasked with political decisions: how a business treats its community, how it makes decisions that affect the public, and, to put it in more colloquial terms, lobbying.</p><p>These are all necessary functions, as stakeholders in any corporation include the general public beyond its customers. There are laws and regulations that need to be followed, and businesses would no doubt prefer to have an easier time navigating them.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Politics, n. A strife of interests masquerading as a contest of principles. The conduct of public affairs for private advantage.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Ambrose Bierce, 1906</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>When it comes to taking a stand on issues or personalities though, it's risky. We'll be talking more about risk in Friday's subscriber-only edition. Be sure to <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/subscribe" style="font-weight: bold;">sign up here</a>.<br /><br /></p><p>The challenge is that in our modern political sensibilities and two-party system, we set things up as a binary decision: left versus right, liberal or conservative, Democrat or Republican.</p><p>This is the classic either/or that pits one side against another. If you choose X, you stand against Y. Paper or plastic, with cheese or without, Yankees or Red Sox, gas or electric, good or evil.</p><p>The list goes on, but the juxtaposition of two forces makes it seem as if everything is binary rather than nuanced. The world is rarely that starkly different.</p><p>This positioning appeals to our base instinct that, when given two options, we can easily choose one of them. And it works. Because the flip side is <strong><a href="https://www.scottmonty.com/2019/10/too-much-information.html">too much information</a></strong>.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{"url":"https://www.scottmonty.com/2019/10/too-much-information.html","text":"Too Much Information","class":null}"><br /></p><p>And in business, if you decide to support one side, you're automatically vilified by the other. On our reactionary platforms, we read the headline first and the main article later—or more likely, never. The public digs in and forms its opinion based on limited facts, and in a nuanced situation, there's little room for explication.</p><p>Oh sure, the Twitter thread has evolved, making the platform a potentially more useful tool than the sniper-like @ reply feature alone. I wish threads existed back in my days at Ford.</p><p><em>Aside: here's a useful bit of advice on <strong><a href="https://www.animalz.co/blog/how-to-write-a-tweetstorm/">how to write a tweetstorm</a></strong></em>.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><h2><strong>How to Take a Stand</strong></h2><p>As the leader of an organization, it is your responsibility to guide your people through crises. In those moments, people look for inspiration. They look for hope. And they notice your character. What you stand for, particularly in moments of crisis, will define who you are.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Anyone can steer the ship when the sea is calm.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Pubilius Syrius, c. 40 B.C.</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>When you're responsible for the fate and livelihood of tens, scores, even thousands of people, the pressure is palpable. Which is why it's even more important that you act virtuously. You're in charge, but you're not a king or queen. You're part of a team.</p><p>In <em><strong><a href="https://amzn.to/31TQXHQ">The Spirit of the Laws</a></strong></em>, Montesquieu outlined the stark difference between supporting a monarchy versus a popular government, in particular noting that we need to be more virtuous in the case of the latter:</p><blockquote><p><strong>“There is no great share of probity necessary to support a monarchical or despotic government. The force of laws in one, and the prince's arm in the other, are sufficient to direct and maintain the whole. But in a popular state, one spring more is necessary, namely, virtue.</strong></p><p><strong>“For it is clear that in a monarchy, where he who commands the execution of the laws generally thinks himself above them, there is less need of virtue than in a popular government, where the person entrusted with the execution of the laws is sensible of his being subject to their direction.</strong></p><p><strong>“It is also clear that a monarch, who, through bad advice or indolence, ceases to enforce the execution of the laws may easily repair the evil; he has only to follow other advice or to shake off this indolence. But when in a popular government there is a suspension of the laws, as this can proceed only from the corruption of the republic, the state is certainly undone.”</strong></p></blockquote><p><br />Back in lack 2008 and early 2009, Ford, GM and Chrysler were faced with an existential threat: the global financial and automotive markets were crumbling, and the industry was on the precipice. Only Ford had enough liquidity to survive. The other two of the "Big Three" were asking the federal government for assistance.</p><p>This was the third rail. How was Ford to avoid or embrace it?</p><p>We opted for virtue.</p><p>Ford trekked to Washington twice with its competitors, sitting shoulder to shoulder with them before Congressional committees, not asking for a bailout for itself, but advocating for its competitors and for the larger global automotive supply chain. Ford knew that if either one of its domestic competitors cratered, it could very well take down the entire industry.</p><p>We recalled the words of John Donne in “For Whom the Bell Tolls” from 1624:</p><p><em><strong></strong></em></p><blockquote><em><strong>No man is an island,<br />Entire of itself.<br />Each is a piece of the continent,<br />A part of the main.<br />If a clod be washed away by the sea,<br />Europe is the less.<br />As well as if a promontory were.<br />As well as if a manor of thine own<br />Or of thine friend's were.<br />Each man's death diminishes me,<br />For I am involved in mankind.<br />Therefore, send not to know<br />For whom the bell tolls,<br />It tolls for thee.</strong></em></blockquote><p></p><p>There was something greater at stake in this case. It was about more than just Ford; the concern was for the industry. [<em>Related</em>: <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/pulling-together-separately">Pulling Together—Separately</a></strong>]</p><p><br /></p><p>When we find ourselves as a crossroads, facing an existential threat that may cause harm to some group of our stakeholders, it's the right time to act.</p><p>The concept of <em><strong>noblesse oblige</strong></em> comes to mind.</p><p>While commonly associated with nobility, it's probably more universally understood as the saying "<strong><a href="https://www.scottmonty.com/2018/05/with-great-power-comes-great.html">with great power comes great responsibility</a></strong>."</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>"From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked."</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Luke 12:48</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />As a token of your position as a leader, and of a business's standing in the community, if there are issues that may affect them adversely, you have the opportunity—some might even say the duty—to address it.</p><p>Yesterday was the anniversary of the birth of Theodore Roosevelt in 1858. Teddy was a man of action, a man of principle, to whom honor and virtue were everything.</p><p>He stood up to trusts and unions alike, breaking logjams after protracted strikes and unfair practices. He didn't rush into such fracases headlong, understanding that it wasn't the president's responsibility or purview, and he didn't want to create a precedent. But when he did so, he did it with pure intentions.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>"The man who does nothing cuts the same sordid figure in the pages of history, whether he be a cynic, or fop, or voluptuary. There is little use for the being whose tepid soul knows nothing of great and generous emotion, of the high pride, the stern belief, the lofty enthusiasm, of the men who quell the storm and ride the thunder. Well for these men if they succeed; well also, though not so well, if they fail, given only that they have nobly ventured, and have put forth all their heart and strength. It is war-worn Hotspur, spent with hard fighting, he of the many errors and valiant end, over whose memory we love to linger, not over the memory of the young lord who 'but for the vile guns would have been a valiant soldier.'"</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Theodore Roosevelt, 1910</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>As the election season (thankfully) draws to a close, consider how your team is doing amid the drumbeat. As them how they're holding up. Offer an understanding ear and a soft shoulder, regardless of where their political affiliations lie.</p><p>And consider how your own reputation holds up in all of this. Because what you choose to do or say (or avoid) will send a message to your people. And in doing so, you'll give them license to act accordingly.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>"When virtue is banished, ambition invades the minds of those who are disposed to receive it, and avarice possesses the whole community." </strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Montesquieu, 1745</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><p><em><br /></em></p><div></div><p><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Disclosure: Amazon Affiliate link. I get a small commission when you make a purchase.</span></em></p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><em>If you <strong><a href="https://scottmonty.substack.com/subscribe" style="color: #280170; text-decoration-line: none;">become a subscriber</a></strong>, you'll get part 2 of this exploration of leadership and risk, including three timely links, three timeless stories, and a recommended book and podcast.</em></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the October 28 issue of the <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div><div><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /></div>

Should You Mix Business and Politics?

The Humours of an Election — The Polling  by William Hogarth, 1755 (public domain - Wikipedia) “A real leader is somebody who can help us ov...

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Vulnerability and Leadership

<p><i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banquo#/media/File:Banquo.jpg"></a></i></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b9breHGDnxk/X5BANyOInnI/AAAAAAABPtE/jZP00JOxZWg7RtxnTs_fPfs7tC-6jew_gCLcBGAsYHQ/s734/Th%25C3%25A9odore%2BChass%25C3%25A9riau%2B-%2BMacBeth%2Bseeing%2BBanquo%2527s%2Bghost.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="734" height="524" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b9breHGDnxk/X5BANyOInnI/AAAAAAABPtE/jZP00JOxZWg7RtxnTs_fPfs7tC-6jew_gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h524/Th%25C3%25A9odore%2BChass%25C3%25A9riau%2B-%2BMacBeth%2Bseeing%2BBanquo%2527s%2Bghost.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banquo#/media/File:Banquo.jpg">The Ghost of Banquo</a></span><span style="text-align: left;"> by Théodore Chassériau, 1855 (public domain - Wikipedia)</span></i></span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banquo#/media/File:Banquo.jpg"><br /><br /></a></i><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>"When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable." </strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Madeline L'Engle</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>The three most humbling words a leader can say are: "<b><i>I was wrong.</i></b>"</p><p>It might seem disempowering or admitting to not knowing everything. But that's part of leadership. We're human and we're not always correct.</p><p>There's a myth that leaders are supposed to seem tough, confident, and infallible—almost superhuman at times—and never admit a failure.</p><p>Who doesn't like a leader who can withstand the buffets and blows that are send their way? We like to think those who protect us are themselves impervious to harm. But even the strongest heroes can be vulnerable. Achilles' heel. Superman's kryptonite.</p><p>There's a remarkable thing about this, though: when we discover these character flaws, it doesn't sour us on our heroes or make us turn our noses up in disgust. On the contrary, these weaknesses make us more sympathetic to them.</p><p>Our admiration grows because we realize they're willing to assume responsibilities that no one else will, <em>despite</em> those flaws.</p><h4>Read on to understand why vulnerability matters, a lesson from Shakespeare, and how to incorporate vulnerability into your leadership style.</h4><div><br /></div><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>If you've been here or read the back issues, you'll know we've been talking about <strong><a href="https://scottmonty.substack.com/p/humility-or-futility">humility</a></strong> and <strong><a href="https://scottmonty.substack.com/p/why-does-truth-matter-anyway">truth</a></strong> in the past weeks.</p><p>Two important takeaways from those essays:</p><ul><li><p><strong>“Humility is attentive patience.”</strong></p></li><li><p><strong>Truth is a down payment on loyalty.</strong></p></li></ul><p><strong>Vulnerability is at the intersection of truth and humility</strong>.</p><p>To be vulnerable is to be honest and to discard your arrogance.</p><p>Not an easy thing to do if you're a leader who has been blessed with success after success, or one who appears to have all of the traditional hallmarks of strength.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>"Most of us admire strength. It's something we tend to respect in others, desire for ourselves, and wish for our children. Sometimes, though, I wonder if we confuse strength with other words—like </strong></em><strong>aggression </strong><em><strong>and even </strong></em><strong>violence</strong><em><strong>. Real strength is neither male nor female; but it is, quite simply, one of the finest characteristics that any human being can possess."</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Fred Rogers</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p>Take Macbeth as an example. Shakespeare's tragic general who would be king. In <a href="https://youtu.be/HZnaXDRwu84">his soliloquy in Act V</a>, he admits:</p><blockquote><p>"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,<br />Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,<br />To the last syllable of recorded time;<br />And all our yesterdays have lighted fools<br />The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!<br />Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,<br />That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,<br />And then is heard no more. It is a tale<br />Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,<br />Signifying nothing."</p></blockquote> <div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HZnaXDRwu84" width="560"></iframe></div><br /> In this scene, Macbeth's crimes are catching up with him and he knows his actions were for naught. His confidence gone, we see Macbeth at his most honest and vulnerable in the entire play.<p>When one considers the journey that Macbeth undertook—from war as a general in King Duncan's army to the prophesies of the witches to Banquo's death and his apparition—it's humbling to see him admit that it wasn't worth it. Macbeth admits his mistakes and ultimate failure, as a lesson for the rest of us.</p><p>It's tempting to continue to throw good money after bad. To double down on incorrect assumptions in order to save face. But sometimes we have to learn the hard way.</p><p>You're not paid to be the smartest person in the room.</p><p>It took me a while to realize this while I was at Ford, leading social media and digital communications. Ostensibly, I knew more about that topic than anyone at the company. However, there was plenty of room for others to contribute. I missed that in some cases and may have come off as arrogant. And I regret it.</p><p>It's okay to say "I don't know." Or "I need help." That's not a weakness—it's a strength.</p><p>Why does vulnerability signify strength? For one, it shows our honest efforts to improve, as we admit mistakes and look for input to move forward.</p><p>More importantly, being vulnerable shows courage and curiosity, which are admirable traits. Traits that signify we're open to building relationships with others rather than living in our own bubble.</p><p><br /></p><p></p><h2><strong>How to embrace vulnerability in your leadership style</strong></h2><ol><li><p><strong>Be honest</strong>. Even when telling a story, <a href="https://scottmonty.substack.com/p/why-does-truth-matter-anyway">truth matters</a>.</p></li><li><p><strong>Acknowledge your mistakes</strong>. Admitting it is the first step; you should also <a href="https://scottmonty.substack.com/p/whens-the-last-time-you-heard-a-proper">apologize when you're wrong</a>.</p></li><li><p><strong>Say when you need help</strong>. You're not expected to know everything. Give others a chance to show their expertise and grow in their roles as well.</p></li><li><p><strong>Build relationships</strong>. Colleagues and coaches can help on your unending journey of self-improvement. Look for others who have been there or who can offer an outside view.</p></li></ol><p><br /></p><p>We're all dealing with our own challenges, in times of uncertainty as well as in normal circumstances. Leadership means providing a clear and calm direction despite any obstacles, and being vulnerable can help you navigate the less certain times, showing your willingness to work together with those whom you let in.</p><p>Being vulnerable means being human.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><em>If you <strong><a href="https://scottmonty.substack.com/subscribe" style="color: #280170; text-decoration-line: none;">become a subscriber</a></strong>, you'll get part 2 of this exploration of leadership and vulnerability, including three timely links, three timeless stories, and a recommended book and podcast.</em></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the October 21 issue of the <a href="http://timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div><div><br /></div>

Vulnerability and Leadership

The Ghost of Banquo  by Théodore Chassériau, 1855 (public domain - Wikipedia) "When we were children, we used to think that when we wer...

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Why Does Truth Matter, Anyway?

<p><em></em></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H9GYRK92UKY/X4c36Cqw92I/AAAAAAABPdM/AUQmtQodu_ANC-JAj1-k7V35RvywT33rQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1265/Gerard%2Bde%2BLairesse%2B-%2BHermes%2BOrdering%2BCalypso%2Bto%2BRelease%2BOdysseus%2B1670.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1265" height="518" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H9GYRK92UKY/X4c36Cqw92I/AAAAAAABPdM/AUQmtQodu_ANC-JAj1-k7V35RvywT33rQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h518/Gerard%2Bde%2BLairesse%2B-%2BHermes%2BOrdering%2BCalypso%2Bto%2BRelease%2BOdysseus%2B1670.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:%27Hermes_Ordering_Calypso_to_Release_Odysseus%27_by_Gerard_de_Lairesse,_c._1670.JPG" target="_blank">Hermes Ordering Calypso to Release Odysseus</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Gerard de Lairesse, 1670 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons)</span></span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><em><br /><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /><br /></div><p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>“When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”</strong></em></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Arthur Conan Doyle, 1890</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />Why should truth matter to executives?</p><p>After all, these are individuals who can (and have) misled the public by spinning the facts, duped investors by overplaying a hand, and duped authorities by cooking the books.</p><p>Again and again we see examples of the market rewarding those who play fast and loose with the facts. Until it doesn’t. Theranos. WeWork. Nikola.</p><p>It’s easy to construct a sexy story—to get people to believe something they already <em>want</em> to believe. A miracle testing process. High value of coworking spaces. A competitor to an electric vehicle company.</p><p>But pull one thread and the entire story begins to unravel, revealing more about the founders and the operators than previously known, resulting in investors asking the questions they should have asked all along.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Murder cannot be hid long; a man’s son</strong></em></strong></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>may, but at the length truth will out.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— William Shakespeare, 1599</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />When my parents raised me, they impressed this upon me: If I got in trouble (in school, around the neighborhood, etc.) they wanted to hear it from me first. If they found out from a third party, then I’d be in trouble for the coverup, in addition to the original infraction.</p><p>The truth always comes out.</p><p>Always.</p><p>The truth may not be pretty. It may not put you in the best light. But accepting it, embracing it, and sharing it will make you stronger, both in perception as well as in character. If done with integrity, embracing the truth will give you long-term credibility.</p><p><strong>Truth is a down payment on loyalty.</strong></p><p>Loyalty from your customers, from your employees, from your investors—from anyone you build a relationship with. It’s a long game, though. Relationships always are. </p><p>But loyalty doesn’t come from transactions; loyalty comes from being able to trust someone from repeated actions over time. Such feelings are built, not made.</p><p>Another way of thinking about truth is through transparency. A little transparency can go a long way.</p><p><strong>Honesty </strong>leads to transparency.</p><p><strong>Transparency </strong>leads to trust.</p><p><strong>Trust </strong>leads to loyalty.</p><p><strong>Loyalty </strong>means less turnover.</p><h4><strong><span style="font-size: medium;">Honesty —> Transparency —> Trust —> Loyalty</span></strong></h4><p><br />You don’t have to reveal your secret ingredients, your patent, or your code. But if you take your audience along on the journey with you, they'll appreciate your honesty.</p><p>If you need to change your pricing, packaging, product design, or anything else that’s going to affect the consumer, communicate it clearly and honestly.</p><p>Think about the way we see food. In the 1960s and 1970s, the food advertising industry took a turn. It used to be a free-for-all — using motor oil for syrup, Crisco as a stand-in for ice cream, etc. — all of the tricks that photographers used to try to make food look extra appealing in pictures.</p><p>That is until Heinz decided to break up Campbell’s stranglehold on the soup industry. The Heinz folks filed a complaint with the FTC, revealing that Campbell’s <strong><a href="http://www.todayifoundout.com/index.php/2019/07/that-time-campbells-put-marbles-in-their-soup/">put marbles in bowls of soup</a></strong> to make it look more appealing. </p><p>You see, Campbell’s knew that the solids in their soup would stay at the surface and therefore make the soup seem more hearty, when supported by invisible marbles just beneath them. </p><p>The lawsuit was successful, resulting in food advertising regulations that require more attention to realistic presentations.</p><p>Now, this may have never affected the consumer, who was blithely unaware of being hoodwinked. But it leveled the playing field for food manufacturers, forcing them to create products that lived up to their advertisements.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all</strong></em></strong></em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>                Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>— John Keats, 1819</em></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />Truth has been debated by philosophers for millennia. What is truth? Aristotle, Plato, Socrates, the Stoics all had views on the essence of truth.</p><p>Today, you can hear the overly-enlightened talking about “<em>my</em> truth,” as if they’ve cornered the market on what truth is. Perhaps a better phrase for “my truth” would be “my perception,” for your truth infers that it’s personal based on what you’ve experienced.</p><p>If we are to coexist in a society, whether it’s through business, politics, or just <em>life</em>, common facts are essential. We need experiences and observable realities that we share.</p><p>This is the essence of history. And it’s the difference between the recorded past and the remembered past, as Lewis Lapham put it: </p><blockquote><p>“The recorded past is a spiked cannon. The remembered past is live ammunition—not what happened two hundred or two thousand years ago, a <em>story</em> about what happened two hundred or two thousand years ago. The stories change with circumstance and the sight lines available to tellers of the tale. Every generation rearranges the furniture of the past to suit the comfort and convenience of its anxious present.”</p></blockquote><p>In <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44477/ode-on-a-grecian-urn" target="_blank"><em>Ode on a Grecian Urn</em>,</a> Keats looks at this inanimate object, with its scenes from ancient Greece, imagining what was happening those thousands of years ago, <a href="https://www.faena.com/aleph/articles/beauty-is-truth-truth-beauty-revelations-from-john-keats/#">as he stands in the British Museum</a>. </p><p>The ancient moment is frozen in time, captured as an Instagrammable moment, but on the external portion of a funerary urn, rather than on a black mirror. But Keats reflects on his own thoughts, from his own time, and gives the urn new meaning today.</p><p>The true value of history is not just to give us a journal and timeline of our past, but to give us lessons we can take into the present. This is why originalism is scoffed at by historians.</p><p>Currently, we have a Supreme Court nominee who is claiming to be an “originalist” in her view of the Constitution, saying “That means that I interpret the Constitution as a law... I understand it to have the meaning that it had at the time people ratified it. That meaning doesn’t change over time and it’s not up to me to update it.”</p><p>But all it takes is a quick view of Thomas Jefferson’s own writing to understand what the Founding Fathers intended:</p><blockquote><p>“But laws and institutions must go hand in hand with the progress of the human mind... We might as well require a man to wear still the coat which fitted him when a boy as civilized society to remain ever under the regimen of their barbarous ancestors.”</p></blockquote><p>Homer’s epic poems and the Bible are part of a tradition, first oral, then written, creating a common set of stories for society. While the tales are set in a particular time, their lessons are universal, allowing us to apply them still today but in the context of a vastly different world.</p><p>They work because human nature has remained constant and because we have more in common with ourselves and our ancestors than we might think.</p><p>This is what storytellers do. They capture our common experiences and create tales that trigger emotions within us. We laugh or cry, feel shame or pride, exhibit sympathy or grief, create ideas or actions.</p><p>We do this because stories are based on things that are discernible. Things to which we can attest. In other words, the truth.</p><p>The sooner you can be honest with your audience, the faster you’ll be on your way to loyal followers.<br /><br /></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><div><hr /><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><em>Please <strong><a href="https://scottmonty.substack.com/subscribe" style="color: #280170; text-decoration-line: none;">become a subscriber</a></strong> and join us back here on Friday for part 2 of this journey toward truth, where I'll have three timely links, three timeless stories, and a recommended book and podcast — all related to truth.</em></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>This originally appeared in the October 14 issue of the <a href="http://timelesstimely.com/" style="color: #280170; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Timeless & Timely</a> newsletter. </i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></div></div>

Why Does Truth Matter, Anyway?

Hermes Ordering Calypso to Release Odysseus  by Gerard de Lairesse, 1670 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons) “When you have eliminated the i...

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