Preparation and panic

Final exams incline us toward a Taoist philosophy.

We are now just past the Advanced Placement exam season, heading into finals for other classes, and our tutor feels it is none too soon.  The sudden appearance of students asking for a full exposition of a year-long class in one session, the night before the test, is entirely predictable; but by no means more comfortable for all that.  He has not yet told a student in so many words that there’s really nothing he can do, but he’s been tempted.

We are reminded of the days in which our consultants were actively seeking jobs in the corporate realm, and received much advice, free and otherwise.  One job coach presented as a laudable phrase to include in one’s resume, or cover letter, or job interview: “I run toward fires.”  That is, we were advised to present ourselves as the brave, active sort of manager who could step into a failing situation and win when all appeared lost.  Indeed, we were to say we were attracted to just such challenges.

There is no doubt that actions of that sort attract admiring attention.  The leader who turns around an apparently lost cause attains high visibility and advancement. And there are a multitude of emergencies, small and large, that emerge in the day to day operation of any concern.  Being able to fix problems that arise is a necessary skill.

As the captain who manages to escape a lee shore by a hair’s breadth is praised for his or her seamanship.  But the captain passing safely miles from danger gets no particular notice.  And the latter is arguably the better seaman.  As the executive who has the vision and care to avoid major problems, to prevent fires in the first place, is arguably the more valuable employee.  We haven’t spent enough time in the corporate world to know whether this is generally recognized, but we suspect not.  It is hard to appreciate quiet.  But it is noted that when Napoleon was taken aboard HMS Bellerophon  to surrender after his Hundred Days, he was amazed at how every evolution was carried out in perfect silence.  The Royal Navy had worked long and hard to get to that point.

There is a passage in the Taoist classic, the Tao Te Ching: “When his task is accomplished, his work done, throughout the country every one says `It happened of its own accord.'”  That’s what we’d put in our resumes (and did, in at least one case) instead of something about fires.

So our tutor is making plans for the summer and fall.  He is outlining a series of workshops, on such things as note-taking and scheduling one’s time, to be given at the start of the next school year; and in general working out how to make next year’s final exams a quieter time.