A philosophical interlude and moment for introspection
Pause here for a second and ponder: “OK, what am I? A hedgehog or a fox?” Whether we like it or not, most senior business people are more likely to be of the prickly variety. Hedgehogs, according to Isaiah Berlin in his celebrated essay The Hedgehog and the Fox, “relate everything to a central vision, one system less or more coherent or articulate, in terms of which they understand, think and feel”. The twentieth-century accent on strategic planning with rigid structures and objectives has made employees march unquestioningly to the same tune. But managerial hedgehogs shouldn’t worry; they share the same characteristics as writers and philosophers of the likes of Dante, Plato, Hegel, Dostoevsky, Nietzsche and Proust. You may ask why there is such a preponderance of hedgehogs in the senior ranks of business today. Well, most senior managers are middle-aged folk who belong to a generation where lifetime employment was the idea. Back in the last century, parents would send their children to respectable schools so that they could qualify to go to respectable universities and thereafter join respectable organisations – for life. From womb to tomb, twentieth-century man was programmed to be a hedgehog. The fact that this world is vanishing fast is leading to a much higher proportion of the younger generation becoming foxes. The 21st century belongs to them.
Nevertheless, what cannot be denied is that, over the last few hundred years, business has owed a great deal to the foxes. These, according to Berlin, “pursue many ends, often unrelated and even contradictory. Their thought is often scattered or diffused, moving on many levels, seizing upon the vast variety of experiences.” In the world of philosophy and literature, full foxy points go to the likes of Shakespeare, Aristotle, Molière and Goethe but, in the commercial sphere, we must not overlook foxy families like the Medicis, the Rothschilds and the Rockefellers.
Bertrand Russell, a fox of considerable stature in British philosophy in the last century, gave a delightful description of how differently hedgehog and foxy philosophers arrive at the truth. Hedgehogs, like the German philosopher Gottfried Leibniz, produce a vast edifice of deduction pyramided upon a pinpoint of logical principle. Foxes draw comparatively modest conclusions from a broad survey of many facts. If a principle proposed by a hedgehog “is completely true and the deductions are entirely valid, all is well; but the structure is unstable, and the slightest flaw anywhere brings it down in ruins”. As against this, a philosophical fox such as John Locke or David Hume makes sure that the base of the pyramid “is on the solid ground of observed fact, and the pyramid tapers upward, not downward; consequently the equilibrium is stable, and a flaw here or there can be rectified without total disaster”.
Interestingly, Immanuel Kant, the greatest philosopher in modern times, who died at the ripe old age of eighty in 1804, was a hybridised version of the two creatures we are talking about – in other words he was a “hedgefox”. In his masterly book, The Critique of Pure Reason, he combined the pronouncements of the rational and empirical schools of philosophy. The former states that, through pure reasoning, you can derive the meaning of existence and everything else in the world from first principles (hedgehog stuff). The other maintains that the only source of knowledge is experience (foxy stuff). Kant drew on both perspectives to come up with his theory of synthetic a priori propositions like “every event has a cause”. He argued that this belief could not be divorced from experience but neither could it be derived from experience. It was part of our inherent nature to believe that every cause has an effect (and vice versa) in that it gives coherence to our perceptions. Hence, the concept of cause and effect transcended experience.
The greatest mind of the twentieth century, Albert Einstein, was also a hedgefox. Like Plato, he believed that you could shed light on the mysteries of the universe by sitting in an armchair and contemplating the problem in a singleminded manner. You could even play thought experiments in your mind and see where they led. However, unlike Plato and like a true fox, he believed that all theories had to be grounded in fact and confirmed by observation. For example, in 1905 he presented his special theory of relativity, which included the famous equation E = mc2. It was only in 1945 with the detonation of the atom bomb that the equation was verified. Likewise, in 1916, when he introduced the general theory of relativity, it contained the entirely new concepts of space being curved and light rays being bent in a gravitational field. These were subsequently confirmed in 1919 by observations of how starlight curved around an eclipsed sun. In brief, his two famous quotes sum up his philosophy of life: “God may be sophisticated, but He is not malicious” and “God does not play dice”. As he grew older, his hedgehog side came to the fore with his attempt to develop a unified field theory which explained everything. Then, when he failed, he tried to prove it was impossible. And when he failed to do that either, he worried that no-one else would ever lay the matter to rest!
Einstein’s example implies that, if you are going to be a hedgefox, the prime time to be one is between the ages of 25 and 40. On the one hand, you still retain the arrogance of youth to challenge mainstream orthodoxies; on the other hand, you have experienced something of the world at large to see how diverse it is. Einstein was 26 when he announced the special theory of relativity and 37 when he launched the general theory. It is no coincidence that most of the great advances in physics and mathematics were achieved by relatively young geniuses. The Nobel Prize comes much later on, once the idea has become generally accepted. It must be hard to live with yourself if you were so much cleverer when you were young!
Moving to the East, foxes make use of the Chinese philosophy of Yin and Yang in that they understand the need for balance between the many opposing elements we face in this world. We live in a state of permanent contradiction, wondering whether to be just or merciful; tough or gentle; bold or cautious; competitive or co-operative. Indeed, we’re perfectly happy to carry completely conflicting beliefs in our mind, skipping from one to the other. For instance, when tragedy strikes, we believe in predestination – what will be, will be. At other times, we believe that life is about what we decide to do of our own free will. Is the universe infinite in time and space, or did it start with a big bang and its boundaries are now expanding? One or other view must be right, but they can’t both be right at the same time. Kant called these paradoxes “antinomies”. He used them to justify his rejection of pure rationalism on the one hand and pure empiricism on the other. For a more homely antinomy, consider the wisdom contained in these two old sayings: “birds of a feather flock together” and “opposites attract”. We accept both of them! And then there is the antinomy which lies at the heart of capitalism. Individual companies want to crush the competition in order to maximise their own profits. Yet competition is good for society as a whole.
Foxy judges and juries in particular have to keep opposites in mind as they listen to the persuasive arguments of the prosecution and defence. It is only when they’ve heard all sides of the case that they make a judgement of “guilty” or “not guilty”. Two-party democracies like the American one are supposed to offer alternative versions of the political truth to electors. Lately, the Republicans and Democrats have been awfully alike in their policies. It is only when you have disputes like the Florida recount that the knives really come out with the lawyers in tow. A foxy CEO of Coca-Cola Enterprises had this to say at a university commencement address several years ago: “Imagine life as a game in which you are juggling five balls in the air. You name them – work, family, health,