Faith

In our Leading Organizations and Ethics classes, we are analyzing all kinds of stuff (file that as "understatement of the year"). The themes du jour are change management, decision-making processes and organizational design. There a lot of frameworks one can use for analyses, and they are certainly fun for know-it-all MBAs to yammer on about at dinner, alienating all their friends who have real jobs. I’ll spare you that (though I’m all for spouting about it, just in the right settings). Instead let me draw some parallels.
Where does change start? Where do we begin to make our world a different place? Influence the organizational design. Write out your ethical decision-making frameworks, being careful about all those decision traps. Have those difficult conversations. Okay, good for you. All of these things have something in common. They started with YOU. Mahatma Gandhi said: “Be the change you want to see in the world”. (Thanks Anand, for reminding me of this in a presentation last quarter)
My friends, at the end of the day that may be all we have. What does it take to make that leap? To make that change in your perspective and therefore your actions?
Faith.
Faith in a higher power. Faith in Mother Nature. Faith in love. Faith in people. Faith in yourself. Faith in something. Having faith is (almost) by definition “going forward holding a belief and consequences that have yet to be proven true”. But going forth nevertheless.
Faith is a beautiful thing. Let me share a bit of faith that my parents have and that they passed on to me and my sister.
Growing up on a cattle ranch, you become accustomed to the cycle of life. To the fact that nature has its way of helping the strong grow stronger and (sadly) the weak fade away. Charles Darwin walks beside you every day. You are quite powerless against his theory. Saving a motherless calf “because it’s cute” can turn your working ranch into a petting zoo.
I think that they exercised some faith this past weekend when dealing with the mother-calf relationship. From birth, a mother and her calf must bond for the calf to survive. Usually this happens if you give the animals adequate and comfortable space. Intrusion is usually counterproductive. Dad always asked that we “let Mother Nature take her course” before acting too rashly.
The birth of twins is uncommon on the JRL. However, this year, we’ve had 3 sets. On Thursday, two of those sets were born. The firstborns of each set were somewhat forgotten on the days of their birth, as each new mother handled the surprise of seeing yet another creature pop out of her uterus. Says Mom: “two new calves, to these two first calf heifers....then lo and behold found two "extra" calves right on the fence line, opposite where the cows had had their calves ....no one claimed them all day....brought these two first calf heifers into the barn with their calves, then added the two that didn't seem to be claimed....both were accepted by their respective moms (they were obviously twins that had gotten lost in the shuffle when the second of each pair came along)...everything goes along well that night but by Friday morning, the mom on the left (with the white) wouldn't accept her second calf, so it , being rather pushy, started nursing off of the all black cow, and so now the cow on the right has triplets (by default)....so far everyone is happy and the cow on the right doesn't mind 12 extra legs under her at various times during the day!” The situation could have gone very differently, with the orphaned twin being shunned by both mothers and therefore bottle-raised and destined to life as a runt. Fortunately it turned out this way. I believe that either way it went, Mom and Dad would have done their best to manage the welfare of the animals involved, but in the end given it over to Mother Nature to decide.
I’m sure Mom and Dad have to steel themselves for the possibility of the triplets’ mom getting tired of it and kicking one calf off the teat. This could still happen. But, Dad will remind us, “let Mother Nature take her course”.
That takes faith.