The importance of being half-earnest

Two colleagues placed a bet on whether my post on power plays was satire or in earnest; and another friend commented

I’ve been tempted to not give a conclusive answer to this question, because a) satire is made less potent if it’s proclaimed as such, and b) it’s been interesting to see what people think of me, as evidenced by their belief on this matter. But, I’ve decided to write a short post on this, because I have thoughts, and also because other colleagues who recognise themselves in the listed power plays may be offended by my calling them out on them.

So the truth is, the post was written in jest, around a large kernel of truth. I do do many of the things I describe as power plays: I dress in suits when no-one else does; if I think I need to be in a meeting, I’ll attend it even if I’m not invited; I’ll join meetings without my laptop if I don’t need it; I’ll ask people to ‘do something for me’; I’ll share top of mind updates, and talk about books I’ve read; I’ve obviously started a Substack; and though I won’t make deliberate mistakes, I am aware that I often benefit from the pratfall effect.

(There are some things I don’t do: I don’t say ‘take a step back’, which I consider a pompous thing to say. I don’t bring up my my schools, which I think no-one who left uni more than 2 years ago should ever do. I don’t say ‘I’m hiring’, on LinkedIn which I find obnoxiously self-aggrandising. And my LinkedIn title is purely descriptive - frankly, I don’t think you should have more than one or two things listed in your headline. Things like this just look silly:

)

Here’s the thing: I (and my colleagues who do many of the things I’ve listed above) make these ‘power moves’ in good will - not to make ourselves look good, but in service of some other objective. For instance, if you are a team leader, sharing a weekly top of mind update is a good way to ensure your team is engaged, and that they understand how their work fits in with the objectives of the wider organisation.

But, what’s interesting is this: it’s hard not to be aware that things like these (when done well) do make one look good and appear leader-like. And so doing them can make one feel a little icky, in the way that some of us feel icky when we have to attend ‘networking events’. I suppose that writing these posts was basically a cathartic exercise - a way of poking fun at myself, and to remind me (and my colleagues!) that it’s fine to keep on doing things like this, but to reign in the pomposity and pretentiousness wherever possible.

Incidentally, the same dynamic appears in acts of virtue, when one is self-conscious of their integrity, or when one is aware of a self-interest in the virtuous act. For instance: if you have a lonely elderly relative, it’s good and right that you should visit them and keep them company every now and then; but such goodness probably feels purer if the relative is poor, than if they’re rich and you know you stand to inherit. Similarly, standing up for what you feel is right is well and good - but the virtue of your stance is probably lessened when you’re well-aware of the admiration it will earn you.

So what defence is there against this self-doubt of your motives? One is to look deep in your heart and make sure you’re doing the right thing for the right reasons; a second is to check that you’re still doing the right thing when it’s costly (or at the very least, not beneficial to you); and a third is to proactively poke fun at yourself, which hopefully keeps you in check.