Epilogue
The Thirteenth Sage
Gurcharan Das, bestselling business author and Times of India commentator, was CEO of Procter & Gamble India from 1985 to 1992. He told me the following story from his time there.
When I was heading up P&G India, we hired an assistant security guard for our main office in Mumbai. This fellow was a non-graduate, came from a small village, and spoke no English. His name was Kamble.
He started in the evening shift, and within a few weeks he had transformed the atmosphere. More and more people in the office started to stay late, because in the evening, everything worked. Anything you wanted, they’d say, “Ask Kamble.” He could operate the telex machine and the switchboard. He knew how to run the film projector to view commercials. He could bring you tea and coffee. If something was broken, he could fix it. He knew the finance director had left for Delhi and was staying in such-and-such hotel and here is how you can reach him.
After about nine months, Kamble went to the head of Personnel and said, “The daytime switchboard operator’s leaving. Will you let me run the switchboard during the day? I’m tired of working at night.” The head of Personnel said, “What? You don’t know any English. You don’t even know how to pronounce the name of the company properly.” (He pronounced it “Procter and Gamblay.”)
I heard about Kamble’s request through the grapevine, and I said, “Let’s give this guy a chance for a few days, and if he doesn’t work out, we can always get someone else.”
So we put Kamble on the switchboard. A short while later I got a call from the company’s chief attorney. “By the way,” he asked, “do you guys have a new phone system? Your phone is always answered on the second ring. We want that same system in our office.”
“It’s not the system,” I said. “It’s the person.”
As I was passing the operator’s booth that evening, I asked Kamble, “Why do you always answer the phone on the second ring?” He replied, “I think there may be a customer on the other end, and you might lose an order.”
I realized he knew instinctively why the company existed: for its customers. And he conveyed that attitude to everyone. Over the next six months, he achieved the same transformation of the day shift as he had of the night shift. If you needed anything: “Ask Kamble.”
Over the years he became a role model in our company, especially to the newer, younger managers. Without any degrees, he became a transformative leader. He taught us that you can inspire through strategy or words, but the best way to inspire is through actions. Just by being around, Kamble inspired people.
Our twelve sages of the East—from Confucius to Lady Murasaki to Gandhi—are impressive in their wisdom and impact. But there is a thirteenth sage who is no less wise, and whose quiet impact is no less impressive. That sage is Kamble, assistant security guard of the night shift, and his fellow influencers in every corner of the world.
The thirteenth sage is Connie, who after a disastrous launch meeting counseled me to “go toward the conflict.”
The thirteenth sage is Ed, accused of being too nice, who led Forum nicely through eight tumultuous years, creating profit all the way.
The thirteenth sage is Joe, who showed me how to make an ally of an adversary in two minutes flat.
The thirteenth sage is Mimi, who when I thanked her for her mentorship replied, “The learning went both ways.”
The thirteenth sage is Cedric the waiter, who took a moment out of the breakfast shift to tell the flustered new guy he was doing a great job.
The thirteenth sage is Barbara, who listened to me rant about how they’d mistreated my freelancer, then leaned forward and encouraged me to “say more.”
The thirteenth sage is Mona, whose kindly warning about sharp-edged flip charts kept me from quitting a job in my first week.
And the thirteenth sage is you and me, whenever we, like Kamble, inspire just by being around.
“It’s not the system; it’s the person,” said Gurcharan Das. He’s right. It’s not the system, or the strategy, or the nineteen steps in a training manual; it’s always the person. It’s the Confucian double helix of ren, humaneness, the twin strands of “I’m a human, you’re a human” spiraling through our work lives and home lives with colleagues and family and friends. When we courageously grasp those strands and let them guide us through the system, we transcend the system. We become the influencers. We are the sages.
In the final lines of the Tao Te Ching, Laozi says:
Sages do not hoard.
Having bestowed all they have on others, they have yet more.
Having given all they have to others, they are richer still.
The way of heaven benefits and does not harm;
The way of the sage is bountiful and does not contend.1
May we all lift our sights to that bountiful way.
OM TAT SAT