Just let go and grow roses

To let go when necessary is also an important part of governance

My attempt in this column has been to deliberately shift the debate on corporate governance away from the stereotyped discussions centering around the structures — such as the board, its committees, independent directors, and the systems and processes of the board, for as I have said before, one can easily lay hands on erudite and experiential discussions on these subjects —and shift the focus on the underlying forces that ultimately control these. 

To let go: Not so easy

To let go when necessary what one has acquired or has control over is an action — especially for any one in a leadership role in an enterprise —intrinsically related to its corporate governance. The third of the four age-based life stages of ancient India — Vanaprastha — was designed for letting go. Ishopanishad says, “Tena tyaktena bhunjitha” — by renouncing this, find your enjoyment. 

However discomforting may it be, the “valiant” attempts of people to “hang on there, a little longer” inflict damage to the self and the organisation in several ways. First, these often result in shame. The verdict on the allegations may be reserved for the future, but the present has meted out irreparable reputational damages. Second, the enterprise itself is usually hurt financially. For example, in financial institutions, efforts to showcase spectacular growth, bending backwards, in the hope of post retirement benedictions, usually result in rising non-performing assets and consequential higher provisioning leading to losses. Third, there could be collateral damages on the people who are close to the leadership, and last, these attempts can metamorphose a well respected individual into a supplicant at the end of his or her career and enhance vulnerability to forceful expulsion. 

But aren’t these consequences obvious and well known — one might ask. Yes, most certainly. The Yaksha-Yudhisthira dialectics, in the Aranya Parva of the Mahabharata, has a lesson or two in this respect. One of the questions of Yaksha is, “Kim Ashcharyam”? “What is most surprising”? Whereupon Yudhishthira replies, “The most surprising is that even though every day one sees countless living entities dying, man still acts and thinks as if he will live forever.” Many of us are conditioned like Gandhari, not to see the inevitable. Those in leadership positions love to perpetually remain in Tennyson’s land of Lotos-Eaters, falling into deep slumber after consciously eating the “lotos”. 

Several factors usually come in the way to cloud our clarity — one of which is greed that makes one remain in a continuously dissatisfied state like Harry Potter’s friend Dudley in Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. When he counted his birthday presents, his face fell and he said, “36” ...“that’s two less than last year”. Even when he is asked to count Auntie Marge’s big present, Dudely was still unhappy said, “Alright, 37 then”. Dudleys are hidden in us.

In my last article in this column (August 2) I talked about the two inherent human needs — control and power. Greed, which is latent in us, gives firepower to both. The need for control is a biological imperative for survival. Power is one of the three forces that have the strongest attraction for the human ego. Both the need to control and power are helpers, but beyond a point these become bars. Laws and regulations cannot fully curb these natural human tendencies, but strict enforcement may help mitigate their influences. 

Growing roses: Worth trying

One of the several chairmen of the organisation where I have spent a major part of my career — to whom I am deeply indebted and who taught me leadership and the essence of market regulation — told me before he left the organisation that some day one must learn to leave everything and grow roses. He actually did that a few years later, in Chennai. 

One day in our apartment in Juhu, Mumbai, my wife pulled me to the balcony to show me the palash tree in front. She had been noticing to her chagrin that for several weeks, I was bringing files home and poring over them till late in the night. From the balcony, she showed me the palash tree in front of our balcony. A flaming palash had bloomed on its dull and dusty branches after many years and I had failed to notice it. She told me your files will remain, but the flower will wither away. Enjoy the beauty now; that will last longer than your files. 

Let go and spend part of life in growing roses.
 The author is former executive director, Sebi