I’ve started taking some management classes. My department is growing, and I figure it’s possible that some of my standard techniques for performance management ("A drunk otter could have done that project better") and team building ("Another round of shots for the table") may start to be less effective going forward.

I try to keep an open mind about these things. I don’t just assume that a management class will be a froofy timewaster where they put clay and colorful pipe cleaner toys at each person’s chair so participants can be “playful and creative” during the instruction.

But when I showed up a class about effective leadership strategies last week, I found clay and colorful pipe cleaner toys at each person’s chair.

Abraham Lincoln was a great leader. Do you know one of the strategies he used to become one?  It involved a studious avoidance of colorful pipe cleaner toys.

Anyway, the real problem came up around a half hour into the session.  The instructor--who was so cheerful and chirpy than I’m sure she had several felonies on her record--asked us to read a few paragraphs about what makes a good leader and then underline the parts that we liked best.

The problem with that exercise is, it implicitly assumes that we’re going to agree with everything in the text.  But I came across this sentence, and it stuck in my craw:

“Genuine leaders are not in it for themselves; they have a sincere desire to create something larger and better than what they can create alone.”

I thought about that for a moment.  Then the instructor asked us to share the parts we had underlined. I raised my hand.

“I don’t think it’s true that genuine leaders aren’t in it for themselves. Everyone’s motivated by self-interest. But good leaders know that the way to achieve their personal ends is to build something that’s larger than what they can do on their own. So I’d revise this sentence to read ‘Genuine leaders are in it for themselves, and they have a sincere desire to create someone larger and better than what they can create alone.’”

Silence.  You could have heard a pipe cleaner drop.

The associate instructor said dryly, “That’s deep, Greg.”

The chirpy instructor gave her best Stepford Wife robotic head jerk and said, “Well!  I think I need another cup of coffee before I can follow all that!”

I threw up my hands. “Okay, okay. I’m just saying.”

And that was that.  But hey, I don’t come into a class to shut off my brain; I’m going to engage with the material. And personally, I don’t want my manager to be a selfless person; I want him or her to recognize that leveraging my skill set is the best way to achieve large amounts of money and power.

Selflessness is great--when you’re clothing and feeding poor children in Calcutta.  It’s not as useful when you’re deep in the belly of a for-profit business.  Oh, and you know what poor children in Calcutta might also like?  Colorful pipe cleaner toys.