People and power, and authority

A few years ago, I had an infuriating experience working with some easy to dislike people in a high-profile company.

They were middle managers who were arrogant and high-handed, and operated on an instruction dispensing mode. They constantly made suggestions, friendly enough, to almost trick you into thinking that you had a choice when in fact it was their way or the highway, quite literally.

Their modus-operandi was to point fingers, pick fault and spend time labouring a point  instead of finding a solution or agreeing to a compromise. They were so used to bullying or having their way that anyone who did not or would not play ball was accused of being uncooperative or worse summarily dismissed. It was like working with a bunch of Napoleans. What was sad was if your bread and butter or rice and curry depended on currying their favour, then learning to kow-tow or capitulate was the order of the day, unfortunately.

What is it about power that makes some people overbearing and cavalier in their attitude?
That said, what is power really?

Power is relative. Power is transitory. It means different things to different people. To most, power is about money, authority, fancy cars, high-end jewellery, designer bags and luxurious homes. To others it might be physical strength, a high-flying job in a renowned company, beauty, intelligence…

The irony about power is it is not absolute.

And they all come tumbling down

As powerful as someone is at any one level, company or country; there is probably someone else more superior with more sway and weight within and outside the same company, political party or country. The authority that power affords is limited to the influence the job title and position allows. No one has absolute power.

This was well exemplified in the British four-part political thriller ‘Secret State’ where Gabriel Byrne played the role of deputy Prime Minister Tom Dawkins. After many internal and external battles he becomes the British prime minister only to find than he still isn’t free to make decisions and doesn’t have the power he thought he would. There are always other ministers, government bodies and private corporations that influence the decision-making equation.

Power is temporary so why is having power so important to most of us? I have always wondered how people who have been in power for long periods of time, whether running a country, a company or managing a family feel when they don’t have the same authority anymore.

How does a President feel when he is no longer head of state? What does it feel like when his views and counsel are no longer asked, when his every word is not a command and he becomes just like you and me –  a common person. Or when there is no motorcade to disperse traffic to let him through a busy road or no bodyguards flanking and protecting him.

How does a CEO or GM of a company feel when she packs her brief case for the last time, takes one long look at her huge office, says her good-byes and leaves the building? If that CEO or GM is then appointed to the boards of various companies or hops on the lecture circuit, she continues to have power and exercise authority. However, if she chooses to leave corporate life altogether, the invitations and phone calls gradually stop, and before long, after two or three years, she will be off the business ‘who’s who’ radar.

Some may welcome the long-awaited quieter lifestyle that may include more time with family and friends, hobbies to jump-start and well-deserved rests and holidays. Others may find they miss the buzz and challenge that comes with making decisions, attending meetings and being responsible for changes and improvements. A former client, who is now a good friend, left the corporate life, which was very competitive, and has never regretted it. She was a marketing expert who was innovative and full of creative ideas. For her, the loss of authority was replaced with peace and tranquility as power also came with stresses and difficult decisions.

In a family, how does a father or mother feel when their children grow up, and they start parenting the parents – driving them to the doctors and making sure they are taking the right medicines, buying them groceries, and telephoning and texting to make sure they are alright. From making the decisions, to having decisions made for them.

My mother is getting older, and I find myself in a role-reversal with her. In a way, I have become the protector or carer, holding her hand when crossing roads, taking her out for meals and making sure her ASTRO works, and she is able to record her favourite programmes. How does this make my mother feel? She doesn’t say but it must be upsetting not being wholly independent.

I know we want and need some power, authority and recognition in our lives. Take that away, even in small doses, and it hurts and it is disconcerting. But how much power and authority do we need?