Malaysia briefing Article Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Malaysia briefing - Article Example The introduction of the Internet from the West to the people of Malaysia have given people a new way to find information and is a great influence (www.bbc.co.uk). Traditional culture has also been replaced by the Western influence of â€Å"partying† for young people. Even the number of people speaking English in Malaysia demonstrates the extent that the West has influenced Malaysia (www.buzzle.com). Malaysia is a very multi ethnic country and the people there are very open to people of all cultures. Visitors should be aware that public displays of affection are not common or looked upon favorably. The sharing of business cards is a gesture meaning that there is a desire to keep communication going. Be advised that not all areas of mosques can be entered by non –Muslims. Shoes are taken off and left by the front door when entering a home. Visitors may be called a â€Å"male uncle† by those who are at least 10 years younger than the visitor (solrehab.com). Tipping is not a common practice in Malaysia, but a visitor can tip if the service was exceptional (www.goway.com). Rabies is a concern in Malaysia, so beware of animals (www.lonelyplanet.com). Religion brings with it societal norms that people are expected to follow. For example, if a non-Muslim wants a dog as a pet, they must first get permission from their Muslim neighbors. Also, couples that are not married are not allowed to be alone together in secluded areas. However, Malaysia is becoming more accepting of other religions and cultures in that when Chinese New Year comes around, many Malaysian workers offer to work the shift of their Chinese co-workers so that they may take time off to celebrate the holidays of their culture (www.absoluteastronomy.com). About 60% of those living in Malaysia are Muslim. Schools include Islamic instruction with non-Muslims studying morals and ethics instead. While the people of Malaysia are tolerant of other religions, there is a

A Letter To My Past Self English Language Essay

A Letter To My Past Self English Language Essay I might find yourself a bit taken back by reading reader from your future. I assure you are not being watch by a hidden camera and the but of a joke. I think you will agree with me, or rather yourself that education is very important to your, our future. For that reason you are preparing yourself for college. I could tell you who you are going to meet and what classes you shouldnt take, but that wouldnt fair. What I will tell you is that your field of vision will widen. Your brain will hurt and you will have many all righters. To truth of the matter is that you have the tools to be successful already. These tools will need to be sharped and taken care of a like any other tool in your garage. Of these tools writing is very important, maybe the most important of them all. To understand how to write is a key that will propel in on the road you will begin on. Through its process and constant evolution, one must embrace writing as an art form and not a chore. Language is a multifaceted tool which we use to communicate to one another. Its defined as a systematic means of communicating ideas or feelings by the use of conventionalized signs, sounds, gestures, or marks having understood meaning. As the definition suggests its more than just spoken words. Its a head nod, a thumbs up, a smile, braille, hand movements, etc. Pediatricians describe children as sponges to indicate their ability to learn from their environment. Those of us lucky enough to be raised in a household with multiple cultures can have an advantage or disadvantage depending on what we are taught. Institutions such as schools, churches, and the military have their own set of governing rules and behaviors which shape our minds and therefore also shape our usage of language. The experiences Ive had in life shaped my relationship with language, through empowering and undermining my search for self-actualization. Growing up in a bilingual family affected my speech development as a child, which lead me to mix the two languages instead of mastering them one at a time. The United States is a melting pot of difficult cultures, peoples, religions; I believe its what makes this country so great. Even though the United States does not have an official language, English is predominately used. Of course some might argue that in Florida or Texas, Spanish is more widely used, but thats another topic for another day. Being of Spanish decent can be hard and confusing at times. I am of Puerto Rican decedent and was born here in America. My mother being Puerto Rican and my step-father being Guatemalan had issues with what language I was supposed to be taught first toddler. My step-father said I should learn English first because we lived in America and everyone speaks English. My mother on the other hand wanted me to learn Spanish so that I wouldnt forget my roots. As a child hearing my mother speaking Span ish and my father speaking English hindered my communicational development. Thus the language of Spanglish was born. Im sure that Spanglish was being used before I was born, but the fact that I was combining both languages to communicate held me back in some areas. I would start a sentence in English and finish my thought in Spanish. It wasnt that I was doing it on purpose, but my mind took the easy route to finish my thought. If I couldnt find a word in English for something I wanted to say, I would just find one in Spanish and vice versus. That may have worked at home, but it didnt work so well when my Jewish pre-kindergarten teacher couldnt understand me completely. It wasnt that I was not smart enough to be in her class, or develop enough to be in pre-kindergarten. I knew my ABCs, could count to ten and knew the colors of the rainbow. The Hindering factor was that I knew them in Spanish. My inability to use the English language at that age was going to hold me back in school. I was possibly looking at a disadvantage from the start. My mother was so afraid of the school not accepting me in to kindergarten that a summer of hell awaited me. She stopped talking to me in Spanish and English became the predominate language in my home. Being that I was young and a sponge, t didnt take me long to learn the English language for my age. I was able to understand and be understood by my English speaking only teachers. That decision that my mom made resulted in another dilemma in my life which I now still deal with. Growing up in a multicultural environment confused me at times and let me to think and believe I was rootless. Am I an American or am I Puerto Rican? Do I feel comfortable speaking Spanish or English? Everyone at school spoke English, my mother once schooled started talking to talk to me in only English and no one really talked to me in Spanish besides my cheek grabbing aunts no came to visit everyone once in a while. I believed that my roots as my mother put it were slipping away from me. I felt ashamed for a long time because I think I wasnt Hispanic enough or Puerto Rican enough. Having to switch on language the way I did when I was younger put bump in my road for success. To this day I hate spelling and I rather do math. You could say a some people dont like to spell. That is a true statement, but my inability to master one language at time was very confusing. One question that my grandfather asked me repeatedly when I was younger was, How do you say that in Spanish. One instant that I remember, he was referring to my uncles Nintendo. I had asked him if it was alright if I could use the Nintendo in English. Even though he understood what I asking, he was playing a mean trick on me and proofing a point to my parents. He told me that if I could tell him how to say Nintendo in Spanish, then I was allowed to play. I had to ran to my father ask him and he told me Nintendo in English is Nintendo (with a Spanish accent) in Spanish. I felt a bit dumb, but I didnt care at the time because all I wanted to do was play Nintendo. Thinking about that time it was hard for me to have a full conversation with my grandparents without being frustrated. To a degree with was like Malcolm X writing is letters in jail, I know what I wanted say, but I had a hard time saying it in the right language. I eventually took Spanish classes to improve my Spanish speaking skills and talked more with my parents in Spanish to not lose touch with that side of myself. My enlistment in the military was not only culturally shocking, but linguistically shocking as well. Ive recently closed a chapter in life, titled The Marine Corps. It was a life altering experience which I befitted from tremendously. It was a culture shock to say the least. I mention this because there were expectations of me which I had no clue of. I was supposed to know these things, about those things, and all that overnight. One of the craziest issues I had was the language. All of my life the floor had been the floor and all of a sudden floor was now the deck. The walls were bulkheads, the windows were portholes and my shirt became my blouse. Now back on my neighborhood if you were a guy and you wore a blouse that you played for the other team, by that I mean homosexual. I slowly realized that the Marine Corps was rooted in Naval traditional and the terminology date back to ship life. After a while verything started to make sense, but that doesnt mean it became easier. I was st ill being yelled at for referring to the deck as the floor while I cleaned it. Another issue in the Marine Corps I had was speaking in the third person. Now that only last for the three months of boot camp if you ever met a Marine and asked him about the longest time of his life, he or she will problem say Marine boot camp seemed to never end. I just couldnt understand why I needed to say This recruit or recruit Perez needs to use the head instead of saying Hey I need to use the bathroom. Again those were just traditions that fitted a purpose. Whenever you spoke incorrectly the Drill Instructors made it a point to correct you with physical fitness, with that being said I was one tough and lean recruit by the end. Besides being expected to perform in boot camp and being held to a standard. The rest of my Marine Corps life was one learning experience after another. I learned that you dont address a Colonial the way you would you home boy back at home in an e-mail. Professionalism is s omething you need a lot of if you going to survived the arm forces. You are a cut about the rest; cream of the crop so that meant if you half ass work wasnt tolerated. Incomplete work, or work poorly accomplish is the same as not doing it at all. Writing professionally wasnt something I was taught, but I learned under fire. I would write an e-mail or a respond to question 3 to 5 times and had my peers look it over so I wouldnt get in trouble. That would hinder my workload output, but I wasnt being yelled at anymore for not being professional, not it was about not working fast enough. It used to scare me to know that I would have to write an e-mail and 1000 people would read it. I dreaded replies on incorrect grammar or my use of Spanglish. Yes I did use Spanish on a couple of occasion and that they go over so well. With time everything can be accomplished, and my writing skills became better, I do still try to review my work/email/face-book status updates before hitting enter, it ju st a habit now. My experience with my own culture and cultural language (Spanish), allowed me the understanding needed to embrace the Japanese culture and language. My Marine Corps life has let me different place around the world and Okinawa, Japan is included in that list. I still remember being picked up from the airport by my superiors and the long drive to base. Its a humbling experience driving around in a different country and seeing a different set of people you arent used to seeing. I was trying to read billboards, street signs, and even the menu off of the McDonalds drive through, but everything was Latin to me. Well it wasnt Latin most likely the signs were in Hiragana, Katakana, or Kanji. Hiragana, Katakana, and Kanji are 3 forms of writing that the Japanese use. My friends and I would go and interact with the people of Okinawa; we didnt like staying on base so we explored the island and what it had to offer. It wasnt easy at first, but the Okinawan people were very accepting of us becaus e we at least tried to learn the language. I carried a Romanized dictionary, to be able to say what we were trying to convey. Even though I know that I was order chicken in English, but the Japanese waitress only knew Japanese. My friend, Wesley would come to the rescue on occasion such as those if I took too long in my dictionary. He had a pocket picture book, which travelers used in different countries to express what that want. He pointed to a picture of chicken and the waitress new exactly what I wanted to order. It amazed me that images can be used to communicate the basic of thoughts. My patience in knowing that I was guest in Okinawa and that I was the one that couldnt be understood helped me better understand the people and culture of Okinawa, Japan. Language has been my double edge sword and that if I used correctly and I acknowledged and understood, but if I am careless and foolish with it and it cut you deep than anything known to man. Of course language isnt something you can pick up and slick through the air, but you can master this invisible tool. I practice when I speak, read, write, sign, and even nodding my head. It is what I do with my experiences; it is what I do with I practices that shape my mastery of it. To quote smarter man than I He who controls the language, controls the word. I believe the word word in his quote means my inner being, my inner self. To become my best self, I must be fully aware of who I am and realize I can be more. I will not be a prisoner of my own mind, for it is I that hold myself back or lets myself fly.

The Self-Concept of Father-Absent Children in Middle Childhood Essay

The Self-Concept of Father-Absent Children in Middle Childhood   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Man’s individuality embodies numerous traits and self-concept holds the predominant of these traits according to Rogers. It helps the person understand personality and social development, for it is through the developing self-concept that man form increasingly stable picture of their selves, partly, reflected by others in their surroundings (Craig;1996,p.367). As the person interacts with his environment, such as peer groups, school, community and most especially the family, these concepts are constructed. Many developmentalists believe that infants are born without a sense of self (Shaffer, 1989), therefore, we can say that we develop our self-image as we continuously grow.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Families are believed to be the first, the closest, and most influential social group in the child’s life. They provide children with the definition of right and wrong, the patterns of behaviors, the expectations and the evaluations of actions on which children base their own ideas (Craig, 1996). It is in the family where a child spends a great portion of his life mainly during the formative years. It is from the family that he receives his earliest training in proper behavior. Thus, it is the family which plays the major role in the development of his self-image (Medina, 1991). As a child grow, he begins to realize who he really is and what he is and at the same time aware of his capability.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  The person’s general view of self is made up of other, more specific concepts, including the nonacademics sefl-concept, self-concept in English, and self-concept in mathematics. This self-concept evolves through constant self-evaluation indifferent situation (Shavelson & Bolus, 1992). Children and adolescents are continually comparing their performance with their own standards and with the performance of peer and also gauge the verbal and nonverbal reactions of significant people.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Moreover, a harmonious home environment can create confidence in ones own perspective of himself because it provides not only a place of residence but also an identity of mutual security and support (Sevilla, 1989). However, through the changing nature of the family structure, there are broken families and marital dissolution. Single parent families, usually are fatherless, continuously growing up which affect both their children’s ... ...hey are free to ask questions. Furthermore, the researcher will assure the subjects that the test results will be treated with utmost confidentiality. Scoring Procedure   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  The instruction of the scoring will be taken form the manual fo the test instruments. Corresponding points are provided for each answer. Then the number points are counted. Scoring will follow a given equivalent and through the local norms of the test, the level of self-concept of the subjects will be identified. REFERENCES: Craig, Grace. Human Development, 7th edition. New Jersey: Prentice Hall, Inc. 1996 Davidson, Kenneth J.Jr Marriage and Family: Change and Continuity. Massachusetts: Ally and Bacon: Simon & Schuster Co., 1996 Elliot, Stephen N. et al. Educational Psychology: Effective Teaching/Effective Learning. 2nd edition. USA: Brown and Benchmark Publishing,1996 Tan, Earnest L. The Development of Self-Concept Quezon City. Values Education Program of Mirian College Graduate School, 1991. Medina, Belen T.G. The Filipino Family: A text with selected Readings. Philippines: Office of Research Coordination, U.P. 1991 Easten,Nina J. Los Angeles Time Magazine, 9June 1992): 15-16, 18, 44-46.

Hannibal and the Battle of Cannae

HANNIBAL AND THE BATTLE OF CANNAE The battle of Cannae was a major battle of the Second Punic War near the town of Cannae, an ancient village in southern part of Italy. The battle took place between the outnumbered Carthaginian army under Hannibal against the Romans under the command of Lucius Aemilius Paullus and Gaius Terentius Varro. For the most part, the Romans were overpowered by the undermanned Carthaginian forces. Many historians agree that the battle of Cannae is one of the greatest strategic victories in military history.Numerous historians have examined the possible route Hannibal took from New Carthage to the Pyrenees and then over the Alps to Rome. Along with using scientific data, these historians and scientists allege that there are three possible routes Hannibal may have taken from New Carthage in Iberia across Europe to get to Italy. Scientists and historians do disagree on which route is most accurate do to the fact that the only historical accounts of Hannibal†™s journey are that of Livy and Polybius. Neither historian leaves a very detailed account of the surroundings for Hannibal and his troops.Through paleobotanical reconstruction, attempts have been made to more clearly identify if the places noted by Livy and Polybius resemble any of these places today1. Hannibal came from the very well-known Carthaginian Barca family. His father, Hamilcar Barca was the military leader of Carthage during the first Punic War. At the conclusion of the First Punic War, Carthage's mercenaries revolted and Rome took advantage of her rival's distraction and, in spite of the recent peace agreement, took control of Sardinia and Corsica and forced Carthage to pay a large indemnity2.Carthage finally won the mercenary war, but the loss of Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica left her economic empire crippled and reduced the area from which she could hire troops. After regaining control, the Carthaginians were forced to major war concessions. Of those concessions, Car thage was to pay a war indemnity to Rome and could no longer recruit Italian sailors. Carthage also sent Hamilcar Barca to Iberia to eliminate the Spaniards and build an empire in Spain. Unfortunately, Barca was killed in an ambush at Helice in 229 B. C. E. but not until after he had been able to take over control of the Iberian southern coast.In 226 BC, Hasdrubal reached an agreement with Rome that recognized the Ebro River in northeastern Spain as the northern limit of Carthaginian interest in the area. Five years later, Hasdrubal was assassinated, and Hamilcar's son Hannibal became the leader. At about that time, Rome began involving itself in the affairs of Saguntum, a city on the Mediterranean coast of Spain well south of the Ebro and therefore presumably in Carthaginian territory3. Hannibal viewed the Roman moves as an intervention similar to the ones that had touched off the first war.Hannibal laid siege to the town, which fell after eight months. Hannibal's strategic insight now became evident4. When Hannibal came to the head of the Carthaginian army he took it upon himself to rebuild Carthaginian fortunes by occupying Spain. The Romans had aligned themselves with Saguntum in an attempt to show strength and power against Carthage. Since Carthage's fleet was no longer a match for Rome's, the invasion of Italy would need to occur by land. To that end, Hannibal did his best to speak with tribes in his line of march well in advance of the arrival of conflicts.He also established alliances with various north Italian Celtic tribes that were traditional enemies of Rome. Hannibal's forces were the first civilized army to cross the Alps5. Exposure, desertion, accidents and fierce resistance by mountain tribes reduced his army from 40,000 to 26,000 during the trip, and most of the elephants accompanying the remarkable host also perished. Fortunately, once Italy was reached, the Celtic alliances provided replacements that brought the army back to its original str ength. The Carthaginian troops endured great hardship and suffered serious casualties.Shortly thereafter, Hannibal fought two battles that demonstrated his resolve as a field commander and his determination to destroy rather than merely defeat his enemy. At the Trebia River, only 10,000 Romans escaped an ambush out of 40,000 involved, and at Lake Trasimene, nearly an entire Roman force of 25,000 was killed or captured. From then on, the Romans were hesitant to fight a large-scale engagement. Hannibal was careful to treat prisoners from Rome's allied cities courteously, often freeing them without ransom to encourage dissatisfaction with Rome's cause6.Captured Roman citizens, on the other hand, were held for ransom used to pay Hannibal's men or were often sold into slavery. The Carthaginian army lived off the land causing as much damage to the economy as possible. After victory at Lake Trasimene, Hannibal moved his army to southern Italy in order to recruit additional troops7. This mo ving of troops by Hannibal and their subsequent looting forced the Romans to become more aggressive. Two now consuls, Gaius Terentius Varro and Lucius Aemilius Paulus, were given command of the combined legions of Rome with orders to make an end to the feared Carthaginian.Normally, the two consuls would have independent commands but, when their forces were combined, command of the whole alternated daily. Hannibal's effective intelligence organization soon informed him that Varro was the more rash and impulsive of his opponents, and so Hannibal decided to force an action on a day that Varro was in command of the Roman forces8. Hannibal seized a grain depot to lure the Romans to the site he had chosen for battle. The depot was located at the small village of Cannae, south of Rome.Dawn of that August morning in 216 BC found Hannibal, commander of Carthage's army in Italy, looking down at the plain separating his vantage point from the waters of the Adriatic Sea about three miles away9. The Roman enemy was already advancing with an army of more than 85,000 men, aligned in the standard offensive formation of the dreaded legions. Hannibal's force, some 56,000 in number, faced long odds. The Roman force available for battle was large by the standards of the day. Eight full legions of infantry, some 40,000 men, were improved by 40,000 allied infantrymen.About 2,000 Roman cavalry and 4,000 allied horses completed the army, for a total strength of 86,00010. In battle, the Roman infantry usually advanced on a wide front, with cavalry on the flank. The heavy infantry was led by skirmishers, who opened the fighting with the throwing of javelins. They would then fall to the rear of the formation and were able to pass through the Roman formation because deliberate gaps were left in each line. The basic fighting unit of the heavy infantry was the maniple of about 160 men divided into two centuries.Rather than forming a constant line, the two centuries were deployed one behind the other, leaving the gaps used by the skirmishers. At the point of attack or when in a defensive position, the rear centuries could be moved up to fill the gaps11. The Hastati made up the first line of heavy infantry of the Roman army. They were equipped with a heavy shield, a helmet, light and heavy javelins and a short, straight sword. The Princeps were the second line of heavy infantry. Although armed like the Hastati, the Princeps were omewhat older and more experienced and formed behind those of the Hastati, but were offset to block the gaps in the Hastati line. The third line, made up of the old veteran troops known as the Tritarii, had its centuries form behind the gaps in the second line, giving an overall checkerboard result to the formation. The Tritarii had a thrusting spear in place of the javelin of the first two lines12. In the hands of an experienced commander, the flexibility possible with this formation was useful, particularly against older military formation su ch as the phalanx.Unfortunately, the Roman method of appointing new consuls each year and rotating command daily made it unlikely that the top military talent would be allowed to pursue a logical plan. Roman courage, discipline and patriotism were rarely lacking, but the coming battle of Cannae would highlight the need for changes in the selection and responsibilities of army commander13. Aside from the top leaders, very few Carthaginians were present in Hannibal's army. His army at Cannae consisted of North African, Spanish and Celtic personnel. Perhaps the soundest foot soldiers available to Hannibal were the Libyan-Phoenician heavy infantry.The Phoenicians living in Libya were subject to Carthaginian military service and cleared themselves well. Originally armed like Greek hoplites, they now began equipping with Roman arms captured at the Trebia and Lake Trasimene. In addition to the infantry, 2,000 Spanish cavalry were at Hannibal’s disposal. They were heavily armed and u sed as heavy cavalry, but the outstanding quality of their horses allowed them to rival the speed of the Numidian cavalry14. About 25,000 Celtic infantry and 5,000 Celtic cavalry made up the remainder of Hannibal's force.These people lived for war, but without the guidance of a commander like Hannibal, their absence of discipline made them unpredictable. At the time of Cannae, Hannibal was arming these men with captured Roman weapons. He liked to use the Celts as troops that would cause disruption in enemy ranks prior to sending in his African infantry. At Cannae, the Romans were determined to crush Hannibal's center. They formed deep battle lines in order to bring pressure to stand against the middle of the Carthaginian line. On the Roman right, the legion cavalry, some 2,400 strong, faced Hannibal's Spaniards and Celts, totaling 7,000.The mismatch would prove a decisive element in the battle's surprising outcome. On the Roman left, the 4,000 allied cavalry faced an equal number of Numidians. Hannibal aligned his infantry in an unusual manner. The center of his position was curved, facing outward toward the advancing Romans. The flanks bent backward from the center. Alternating units of Spanish and Celtic swordsmen held this line, and they were greatly outnumbered by the approaching Romans. Hannibal positioned himself at the left end of the line, and his youngest brother Mago, held the right.Each end of the line was anchored by a dense square of African infantry, the location of which guaranteed that they would not be engaged until long after those at the center15. As the Romans advanced, a hot west wind blew dust in their faces and obscured their vision. At a range of about 35 yards, the Romans hurled their light javelins, causing casualties among the Spaniard and Celts. These javelins often caused problems even if they only pierced a man's shield, because the shaft was difficult to remove and weighed the shield down, making the man vulnerable to an onrushin g legionary.At closer range, the heavy javelin was thrown, and then the infantry lines collided, the swift Celts and athletic Spaniards against the disciplined Roman masses. In time, the weight of the Roman assault began to take effect on Hannibal's troops, and the center of the Carthaginian line retreated. As Hannibal's men were forced back, they found themselves slowly backing up a slope Due to the nature of the terrain, the Romans fought uphill as they advanced and at the same time were restricted into a narrowing front as their mass of men entered the ‘V. Although the Roman infantrymen did not know it, their fate was all but sealed by this time. Hannibal had planned for his cavalry to strike the decisive blows while his infantry fought a large-scale delay. As the battle opened, Hannibal launched the Spanish and Celtic cavalry on his left against the outnumbered Roman cavalry16. The consul Aemilius accompanied these cavalrymen but they could not endure the Carthaginian assa ult. Aemilius was wounded and the bulk of the Roman cavalry was driven from the field, exposing that flank of the Roman army.While this occurred on the Carthaginian left, the Numidians on the right had been engaged with the horsemen of Rome's allies17. The Carthaginian cavalry commander on the left, reorganized his units and proceeded to ride behind the Roman infantry to the far side of the battlefield, where the stalemated cavalry fight continued between the Numidians and Rome's allies. The allied horsemen now were taken by surprise and caught between the two Carthaginian forces. The allied cavalry fled the field, taking the consul Varro with them.At this point, Aemilius was dead or dying, and Varro, the other commander, no longer was with the Roman army. The Roman and allied cavalrymen had been killed, captured or driven from the field18. By that time, the Roman infantry had fought its way up the slope and into the enclosed end of the ‘V,' the point. As the men became more t ightly packed into a confined space, fewer of them could use their weapons effectively. Romans in the rear ranks continued to push forward, but found they had little room to maneuver.Hasdrubal, Hannibal’s younger brother, assaulted the Roman rear with his heavy cavalry, assisted by the Carthaginian light infantry. The encirclement was complete. Many Romans first discovered the danger when they realized they were being cut down and hamstrung by the Carthaginian troops. Historians have estimated that the fighting continued until evening and that approximately 600 Romans died per minute of the battle. Cannae represented the apex of Hannibal's career, although he has been criticized for not attempting to end the war by sacking Rome itself at that point.Hannibal remained in Italy for 13 more years, but the determination of the Romans to fight on, regardless of losses, eventually gave them the opportunity to defeat the great Carthaginian. The failure of Carthage to rebuild its flee t in order to challenge that of the Romans made Hannibal's task extremely tough. He attempted to reduce Rome's naval advantage by occupying the Italian coastal cities. If Hannibal had been able to hold them, the odds against the Carthaginian fleet would have improved, but his limited number of troops made it difficult for him to isolate enough garrisons to prevent Roman recapture of the port cities.For 15 years in all, from 218 to 203 BC, Hannibal occupied large areas of Italy. He fought and defeated the Romans on numerous occasions but could not break their spirit19. After Cannae, the Romans again became cautious about entering into full-scale battle against Hannibal, but their command of the sea and the decision to invade Spain, made reinforcement of Hannibal's army difficult. Slowly, the troops who had crossed the Alps with Hannibal decreased in number an in age. But Carthage's absence of naval power prevented Hannibal's alliances with Syracuse and Macedonia from becoming fruitfu l.The Roman navy captured a treaty between Hannibal and Philip V of Macedonia, and by the time the second received a copy and acted on it, the Roman fleet barred his troops from crossing to Italy. In spite of all the complications, Hannibal proved to be a gifted leader able to get the very best from his men. His army was made up of of mercenaries with no real obligation to the Carthaginian cause however no record shows any mutiny during the 5 years in Italy. The army did not more than just survive it maintained a high level of morale and fighting spirit.Spain was taken from Carthage and the Barcid family after Hannibal's brother Hasdrubal repeated a crossing of the Alps with a reinforcement that gave the Romans in Spain a free hand. Hasdrubal was incapable of uniting with Hannibal before being opposed by a strong Roman army in 207 BC. In the ensuing battle, Hasdrubal was defeated and killed20. In October of 203 BC, Publius Cornelius Scipio, the conqueror of Spain, invaded North Afri ca and forced Hannibal to defend Carthage. Hannibal's defeat at Zama at the hands of Scipio in the following spring, caused mostly because of a shortage of cavalry strength, ended the Second Punic War.Hannibal rose to the position of prominence in Carthage after the war and took steps that helped Carthage recover economically from the conflict. Rome viewed Carthage's revival with suspicion, and Hannibal was forced to flee to the east, where he committed suicide in 183 BC rather than fall into Roman hands. Hannibal Barca was one of history’s greatest generals and Rome’s greatest enemy. Although later Roman tradition belittled him, it respected his prowess as a great military commander. Had Hannibal not underestimated the strength of the Romans, he might have rewritten European history.NOTES Mahaney, M. C. ,â€Å"Hannibal’s Invasion Route: An Age-Old Question Revisited within a Geoarchaeological and Palaeobotanical Context. † (Archaeometry vol. 52 (6/2010), 1097 Marcel Le Glay, et al. ,A History of Rome. (Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009), 74 Ibid, 75 John Peddie, Hannibal’s War. (Gloucechesershire: Sutton, 1997), 9 Ibid, 21-26 G. P. Baker, Hannibal. (New York: Barnes & Nobles, Inc. , 1967), 101-104 Ibid, 100 Le Glay, A History of Rome Adrian Goldsworthy, Cannae, (London: Cassel & Co, 2001), 77-81 Ibid, 95Dexter Hoyos, Hannibal Rome’s Greatest Enemy, (Exeter, Bristol Phoenix Press, 2008), 57-59 Goldsworthy, Cannae, 96-99 Hoyos, Hannibal Rome’s Greatest Enemy, 60 Goldsworthy, Cannae, 108-109 Ibid, 111 Peddie, Hannibal’s War, 92-93 Ibid, 94 Theodore Ayrault Dodge, Hannibal, (Boston, Da Capo Press, 1891), 372 Le Glay, A History of Rome, 77 Dodge, Hannibal, 556 BIBLIOGRAPHY Ancient Greece & Rome: An Encyclopedia for Students, vol. 2. Hannibal Baker, G. P. Hannibal. New York: Barnes & Nobles, Inc. , 1967 Dodge, Theodore Ayrault. Hannibal.Boston: DaCapo Press, 1891 Goldsworthy, Adrian. Cannae. London: Cassel & C o, 2001 Hoyos, Dexter. Hannibal Rome’s Greatest Enemy. Exeter: Bristol Phoenix Press, 2008 Le Glay, et al. A History of Rome. Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009 Mahaney, M. C. â€Å"Hannibal’s Invasion Route: An Age-Old Question Revisited within a Geoarchaeological and Palaeobotanical Context. † Archaeometry vol. 52 (6/2010): 1096-1109. Peddie, John. Hannibal’s War. Gloucechesershire: Sutton, 1997 Radice, Betty. Livy The War with Hannibal. Translated by Aubrey de Selincourt. Baltimore: Penguin, 1965

Power and Politics in Organization

Power and Politics in Organizations: Public and Private Sector Comparisons Joseph LaPalombara Wolfers Professor of Political Science and Management School of Management Yale University A chapter for the â€Å"Process of Organizational Learning† section of the Handbook of Organizational Learning, ed. Meinolf Dierkes, A. Berthoin Antal, J. Child & I. Nonaka. Oxford: Oxford University Press, forthcoming. DRAFT: Please do not cite without author’s permission. Power and Politics in Organizations: Public and Private Sector ComparisonsJoseph LaPalombara Yale University Political Organizations and Their Milieu Organizational learning derives most of its knowledge from research on organizations in the private sector, particularly from the study of the firm. Its rich interdisciplinary quality is reflected in the range of social sciences that have contributed to the field’s robust development. The contribution from political science, however, has been minimal (reasons are s uggested in the chapter on ‘politics’ by LaPalombara in this volume).The mutual failure of political scientists to pay more systematic attention to organizational learning and of organizational learning specialists to extend their inquiries into the public/political sphere is unfortunate in at least three senses. First, a general theory of organizational learning is unlikely to emerge unless and until what is claimed to be known about this phenomenon is shown to be the case (or not) in the public/political sphere as well.Second, sufficient evidence in political science—even if not gathered with organizational learning as the central focus—shows that organizations in the public/political sector do differ in significant ways from those in the private sphere. And third, considerations of power and its exercise are so ubiquitous in public/political-sector organizations, indeed they are so central to an understanding of these bodies, that one wonders why such m eager attention has been paid to this concept in the literature on organizational theory and organizational learning.The present chapter is intended to show that the integration of political science into the field of organizational learning will be improved and that knowledge about organizational learning itself will be deepened if increased attention is focussed on two general questions: What characteristics of organizations in the public/political sector distinguish them from organizations in the private sector? And what are some of the implications of these differences for the overall field of organizational learning?The Normative Dimension The answer to the first question must be that one and perhaps the most salient distinguishing characteristic of public/political-sector bodies is that they are normative at their core. For organizations in the private sector, utility and efficiency are universally accepted as primary values. Theories about them are naturally based on the assum ption that these bodies are organized and behave according to rational principles that reflect these values and not other considerations.This assumption, however, remains so central to writing about management that, as shown below, it actually serves to impede almost any serious attention to power and politics in private-sector, for-profit entities. To be sure, any portrayal of private-sector, for-profit entities as monolithic structures exclusively and rationally oriented to the market and the so-called bottom line is much too stark and oversimplified.Even when this flaw is recognized or conceded, however, organizations in the public/political sector are quite different, so the logic and rationality that may apply to a private-sector body cannot easily be extrapolated to them. These differences are also reflected in the ways in which public-sector organizations relate to the learning process. The fact that they typically carry very heavy and distinctive normative baggage is only on e of many dimensions along which differences may be assessed.Normative considerations are endemic to public/political-sector organizations, first because they are directly or indirectly involved in what Easton (1953) once called ‘the authoritative allocation of values’(p. 129). This phrase is a shorthand way of describing a government’s vast organizational apparatus that engages in a wide range of activities over people. These activities typically include matters over which even the meekest of persons affected will argue and fight with each other, sometimes violently. These contrasts, or differences in preferences (i. e. hat government should do or not do), apply not just to the ends of government but also to the means chosen to bring these ends to fruition. In Lasswell’s (1936) brutally unvarnished observation, politics is about ‘Who Gets What, When, How’. Where organizations are constrained or hemmed in by normative considerations, appeals t o logic and rationality do not travel far or reach many receptive ears. Even when political issues appear to be settled and consensus is reached, say, on the desirability of a given policy, normatively driven questions will arise over the mode or method of policy achievement.Because these policies involve things that happen (or do not happen) to human beings, considerations of expediency and efficiency will often take a backseat to normative ideas about goal achievement. In Etheridge’s (1981) words, such normative matters also raise the issue of ‘what should government learn and what should government not learn’ (p. 86). To put it bluntly, learning things about goal-setting or policy implementation that may be rational and efficient but that are palpably unfeasible politically is not only a waste of resources but also a one-way ticket to political bankruptcy.This and other aspects of public/political-sector organizations to be discussed below make for a good deal of messiness—in organizational boundaries; in the specification of organizational missions and authority; in the functional, territorial, and hierarchical division of labor that relates to policy-making and policy execution; and so on. This messiness cautions against a too-easy extrapolation to the public sphere of agency theory or concepts such as principal–agent relationships. These theoretical frameworks may work quite well for the private sector, where one finds much clearer statements of urpose or of means and ends and where the boundaries demarcating organizations, their authority, and their responsibility are much more unambiguously delineated than in the public political sphere. To cite the most obvious example (see Mayntz and Scharpf 1975, for example), in the public sphere it is not easy to separate, say, the legislature (as ‘principal’) and the bureaucracy (as ‘agent’) for the simple reason that in many circumstances the bureaucrat s not only administer policies but also de facto make policies.In fact, the fabric of public policy-making and its administration is typically a seamless admixture of official and unofficial bodies interacting together in ways that make it next to impossible to distinguish principals from agents. This aspect is in part what I mean by messiness. Other Dimensions of Differentiation. It will help clarify the above exposition if one considers some of the additional dimensions that differentiate organizations in the public/political sphere from those in the private sector. The distinctions drawn are not a matter of black or white but rather one of degree.In every instance, however, differentiation is at least a caution against thinking that differences between the private and public/political spheres are superfluous, misleading, irrelevant, or nonexistent. The dimensions are the organization’s (a) purposes or goals, (b) accountability, (c) autonomy, (d) orientation to action, and (e) environment. Purposes and Goals Political organizations are typically multipurpose. The public policies they are expected to make or administer will often be quite vague, diffuse, contradictory, and even in conflict with each other (Levin and Sanger 1994: 64–8).What governments do is so vast and touches on so many different aspects of organized society that it would be astonishing if these policies did not have such characteristics. Even where single agencies of government are concerned, their purposes, goals, specific marching orders—to say nothing of their procedures and actual behavior—will rarely be coherent or logically consistent. Not only are the mandates of government normally quite vague and diffuse (Leeuw, Rist, and Sonnichsen 1994: 195; Palumbo 1975: 326), they may not be known to many of the people who make up the organizations designated to carry them through.It is not unusual for such organizations to have no goals at all (Abrahamsson 1977), or to have goals that appear to be quite irrational (Panebianco 1988: 204–19; 262–74). For this reason rational-actor models, in which it is assumed that preferences are ‘exogenous’ to the organizations themselves, rightly draw criticism when applied to public/political organizations (Pfeffer 1997). Accountability In the private sector, a timeworn cliche is that those who manage publicly held firms are accountable to their shareholders.As Berle and Means (1933) long ago established, this claim is largely a myth. If the ensuing decades have changed this situation at all, it is only in the influence now exercised over the firm by some of the rather large institutional investors as well as by some stock analysts. Occasionally, even the mass media may influence what a corporation does. The corporate community’s relatively recent references to management’s accountability to stakeholders does not make the publicly held firm similar to public/politica l organizations.In comparison with those who are in public office or who manage governmental and other political organizations, corporate managers live in splendid freedom. Paying attention to stakeholders is, like many other aspects of corporate policy, a matter of management’s choice. In the public/political sphere, accountability to a wide spectrum of individuals and organizations is an inescapable fact of organizational life. People in the public/political sphere who fail or refuse to understand this fact spend very little time there.Public-sector officials, especially those who occupy governmental office, whether appointive or elective, wisely pay attention to and worry about many constituencies, all of which are more or less ready and able to apply sanctions if their wishes or advice are not followed. The vaunted autonomy of the executive branch is much more limited than one supposes (Levin and Sanger 1994: 17). In all democratic systems, what the executive does is subj ect to oversight by legislatures and to challenge in the courts. And the latter two institutions are themselves subject to checks by still others.All of them are under continual scrutiny by outsiders prepared to intervene. In addition, many activities that are considered legitimate, and even praiseworthy, in the private sphere would subject public office-holders to arrest, prosecution, and possible imprisonment were they to practice them (Gortner, Mahler, and Nicholson 1987: 60–4). Consider, for example, the public’s quite different reactions to words like ‘broker’ and ‘influence peddler’—or the variety of meanings ascribed to a term like ‘corruption’.As noted by Child and Heavens (in this volume), the universal condition of governmental and other public-sector organizations is that they are subject to constitutions, laws, administrative regulations, judicial decisions, executive orders, and so on. The actions of these pers ons called upon to manage these organizations are constrained by external and internal de facto rules, and limitations (Rainey and Milward 1981). Comparable examples of accountability in the private sector are rare. Public/political-sector organizations are also for more ‘porous’ than private firms are.The former are easily permeated by organized outside interest groups determined to pull these organizations, and therefore their leaders and managers, in different policy directions. The mass media (often the instruments of powerful interests in civil society) also often make quite explicit and sometimes contradictory demands on them. Because these organizations are presumably representatives of the public and are expected to behave in its interest, the press is expected to be especially vigilant on behalf of the public. Above all, public-sector organizations in democracies are subject to the influence of political parties.These parties have their own preference orderings of issues and their own sense of the public policies required to deal with them. Their agendas are essentially normative; rarely do they brook qualification or interference on grounds of efficiency or similar considerations (Gortner et al. 1987: 65–9). Members of governmental organizations, even when protected by civil service laws, defy political parties at considerable risk. This exposure may be extreme in the United States, but it is endemic to European and other parliamentary systems as well. AutonomyThis condition of multiple accountability, formal and informal in nature (Cohen and Axelrod 1984), implies that political organizations are considerably less autonomous than private-sector organizations. Not only are the formal chains of command multiple and complex, but informal influences and pressures often limit, sometimes drastically, the degrees of freedom open to persons in these organizations. Although managers in the private sector are also not free to act exactly a s they might prefer, their organizations (as long as they operate within the law) are immensely more autonomous than public/political sector organizations are.Two additional characteristics relating to autonomy are worth noting. First, not only the goals of these organizations may not only be dictated from the outside, they may also be dependent on other external bodies to achieve them. Lawmakers need the executive branch, as do the courts, to have their policies enforced. Central governments need regional or local governments. A single policy may require the coordination and collaboration of different governmental bodies, many of which are in competition or conflict with each other.And, as I noted earlier, successful goal achievement may in part also lie in the hands of political parties and interest groups. Furthermore, governmental bodies or agencies often disagree about goals and policies. Evaluations of how well or poorly organizations are doing will be driven not by objective criteria (assuming they are available) but rather by political ideology and partisanship. Even within the same government, existing organizations will be in conflict over policies, such as in the case of ministries and departments that spend money while others have to worry about deficits, exchange rates, inflation, and so on.Even in highly authoritarian or dictatorial political systems, such factors make organizations in the public/political sphere, if not radically different in kind from their counterparts in the private sector, then certainly different in the valence of the factors that I have been enumerating. To summarize, the missions of these public/political bodies, their membership, the resources provided for operations, the rewards and punishments for good or bad goal achievement, and often the sheer survival of the organization itself are all matters that typically lie outside the organization itself.Hence, before taking initiatives, persons in political and governmental organizations will make careful internal and external assessments. First, they seek to discover how their superiors or immediate colleagues may feel about a policy or mode of policy implementation. Second, they look to how this policy or mode of implementation will sit with those internal or external forces that can impinge on their professional careers, their economic well-being, or the welfare of the organization itself.Third, they make assessments about what will lie in the way of their ambitions, including, perhaps, their desire to make and enforce given policies. This basic pattern suggests that these organizations are under enormous pressure to engage in learning. Attention will certainly be paid to other governmental agencies, political parties, labor unions, trade associations, religious or ethnic groups, the courts, the mass media, professional associations, the corporate community, and other political and governmental jurisdictions at home or abroad that may affect the org anization’s well-being.The list is very long of constituencies that wield enough power, formal or otherwise, to either dictate or veto certain policies or facilitate or nullify their successful implementation (Dean 1981: 133). Failures to perform calculations of this kind and to learn about these things—and at a reasonably high level of competence—will hobble or defeat the persons or organizations involved. The corporate community has taken to engaging in somewhat similar scanning in recent years, largely because of the internationalization of the firm.When managers extend their operations abroad, they come to appreciate the value, indeed the necessity, of scanning these new environments for aspects that are not, strictly speaking, directly related to the market. As noted above this scanning has also been practiced at home, for national and local governments have come to exercise jurisdiction over matters that affect the life and particularly the profit or loss of private enterprise. One can generalize this tendency by noting that managers are increasingly impelled to engage in scanning whenever gaps begin to appear between a corporation’s policies and its actual performance.Failure to catch sight of such gaps before the media do can carry severe consequences. Orientation to Action The conditions described above do not encourage much initiative by public/political-sector organizations. Action tends to be reactive, not proactive, and prophylactic, not innovative. Fresh ideas are typically viewed as threats to a delicate equilibrium between internal and external forces. Few people wish to risk taking steps that might trigger chain reactions with unknown consequences.Conservatism, not risk-taking, becomes the modal orientation to action. Persons in the private sector, and the mass media, lament attitude, sometimes stridently. They overlook, perhaps, that they themselves are partly responsible for the shortcomings that they criticize. C onservatism also grows out of the fact that these organizations are much more tied to tradition and more deeply institutionalized than is true in the private sector. These traits, too, make them extremely resistant to change.Whether legislatures (Cooper 1975), political parties (Panebianco 1988), or bureaucratic agencies (Powell and DiMaggio 1991; Scott 1995) are meant, the length of time they have been around will greatly condition what the organization is capable of doing, including its capacity to learn and, on this basis, to change. Max Weber’s (1958) reference to bureaucracy’s ‘dead hand’ (p. 228) suggests that this type of conservatism is brought about by the very same characteristics that he associated with legal-rational authority systems.Some writers have labeled this phenomenon ‘strong institutionalization’ (Panebianco 1988: 53). Others have called it the embeddedness of values, or norms, that affect the cognitive systems of organiza tions (Herriott, Levinthal, and March 1985), the governmental sphere, therefore, endless examples show that efforts to reform these organizations fail more often than not (Destler 1981: 167–70). This pattern does not mean that the bureaucrats who run these organizations are beyond anyone’s control or that change is impossible (Wood and Waterman 1994).It does mean, however, that organizational change is extraordinarily difficult to carry off, given the magnitude of inertial forces (Kaufman 1981). The budget process and goal displacement in the public/political sphere are additional factors that impinge on an orientation to action. For instance, not only are public budgets controlled from outside the organizations that depend on these allocations, in the short and medium terms, they can be modified and redirected only minimally, and at the margins. This circumstance is one reason why political scientists who wish to identify the most powerful groups and organizations, wi thin government tself and within civil society, will profile public budgetary allocations over fairly long periods of time. Goal displacement occurs when the personal interests and expediency of organizational leaders and members come to dominate and replace the purpose(s) of the organization itself. This tendency is ubiquitous in the political sphere. Cooper (1975) nicely summed it up in his observation on the U. S. Congress: He found that institution ‘quite vulnerable to the deleterious effects the pursuit of residual goals [of its members] involves. These self-regarding goals] distort policy orientations and block institutional reforms by making individual self interest or collective partisan advantage the focus of attention and the criterion of action’ (p. 337). Mayhew (1974) found that the best explanation for the action orientation of members of Congress is the strength of each member’s the desire be reelected. In extreme form, and in many different types o f organizations, these characteristics actually result in a transformation of the organization itself (Perrow 1972: 178–87).The Environment Because the environment of organizations in the public/political sphere is so strongly normative, the policies enacted there are not only temporary but also contested in their implementation every step of the way both inside and outside government. Knowing about these aspects of their environment, the managers of public/political organizations engage in a predictable type of environmental scanning and learning. For example, they learn whether to pay more attention to the legislature or to the executive office (Kaufman 1981).In order to be at least minimally effective in their environments, the organizations involved must learn the ways and means of overcoming the kinds of constraints that I have been summarizing (Levin and Sanger 1994: 66–8, 171–6). Indeed, considerations of organizational efficiency may be and often are ent irely irrelevant to decision-making and choice in the political sphere. Successful ‘entrepreneurs’ in this context are the ones who learn how to survive and/or help their policies survive in an environmental landscape full of dangerous surprises and subject to frequent and radical change.The basic knowledge to be internalized is that this struggle will remain continuous and that space for freedom of action will not last long. It is these qualities—ambiguity, messiness, and continuous struggle and conflict—in the political and governmental environment that lead political scientists to give considerable attention to power and its distribution both among and within organizations. That attention remains intense, notwithstanding that power is an elusive concept invariably laden with all sorts of normative claims about to what type of power is legitimate and what type is not.In political science there is fairly broad agreement (Dahl 1968) that power is the abili ty, through whatever means, of one to person make another do his or her bidding, even and particularly in circumstances in which doing so is not what the other person wishes or prefers. Power and Organizations The Role and Anatomy of Power Struggles Power, and the struggle over it, describe the essence of the political process. Rothman and Friedman (in this volume) note that scholars writing on organizational learning rarely take conflict and conflict resolution into consideration.They add that organizational conflict, even in the hands of authors as skilled as March and Olsen (1976), is not mentioned as one of the factors that may inhibit the successful development of a learning cycle (see also March 1966). This neglect stems in part from the tendency, widespread in both the corporate community and management literature, to consider conflict itself as something highly undesirable and potentially pathological and, therefore, as something to be defeated (Hardy and Clegg 1996: 627â₠¬â€œ8; Pfeffer 1981: 2–9).It cannot be without negative consequences, either for the theory of organizational learning or for attempts to apply it in the workplace, that such organizations are almost never studied from the vantage point of power and of the competition that takes place to create and maintain control of it or wrest it from others (Berthoin Antal 1998; Dierkes 1988; Hardy and Clegg 1996: 631). One author (Kotter 1979: 2) noted that the open seeking of power is widely considered a sign of bad management.Indeed, the authors of management literature not only skirt the behavior associated with power struggles but also condemn it as ‘politicking’, which is seen as parochial, selfish, divisive, and illegitimate (Hardy and Clegg 1996: 629). Kotter (1979) found, for example, that in 2,000 articles published by the Harvard Business Review over a twenty-year period, only 5 of them included the word ‘power’ in their titles. This finding is astound ing. It suggests that power is treated like a dirty little family secret: Everyone knows it’s there, but no one dares come right out to discuss it.One might imagine, though incorrectly, that the situation has changed for the better in recent decades. An examination of the Harvard Business Review with Kotter’s same question in mind shows that only 12 of more than 6,500 articles published in the period from 1975 to mid-1999 contained the word ‘power’ in their titles and that 3 contained the word ‘conflict’. ‘Leadership’ appeared in nine titles. In a sample of abstracts of these articles, one finds, as expected, the term ‘power’ somewhat more often than in the article’s titles.But the term is almost never treated as a central concept that orients the way the researcher looks at an organization or develops propositions about its internal life. This finicky, keep-it-in-the-closet attitude toward power is puzzling. F or political scientists, the question of power in organizations is central for many reasons: because power is held unequally by its members, because there is a continuous struggle to change its distribution, because these inequalities and efforts to change them inevitably lead to internal tensions.A persistent quest in political science, therefore, is to illuminate the structural aspects of public/political management that permits those involved to confront and handle power confrontations without defeating the purpose of the organization itself. Is There a Power Struggle? The puzzle of inattention to power in the fields of organizational theory and organizational learning is all the more intriguing given that leading organizational theorists, such as Argyris and Schon (1978, 1996) and Perrow (1972), have certainly addressed this matter.For example, Perrow treated organizational traits such as nepotism and particularism as means by which leaders of economic and noneconomic organizati ons maintain their power within them. Because these organizations are the tools of those who lead them and can be used to accumulate vast resources, a power struggle typically occurs over their control (pp. 14–17). And because of goal displacement that may accompany such power struggles, organizations may well become ‘things-in-themselves’ (pp. 188–9).It is possible that leading theorists such as Argyris and Schon (1978, 1996) and Senge (1990) have themselves been excessively reticent in treating phenomena such as power struggles within the firm (Coopey 1995). It may be that corporate managers are in denial and therefore loathe to acknowledge that even they, like their counterparts in politics, are playing power games. Firms, and the literature about them, stress the beauty of teamwork and team players. Plants are organized around work teams and quality circles. Mission statements are endlessly reiterated.Human resource managers expend enormous energy inst illing the firm’s culture as a distinctive way of doing things. People who excel at the approved traits are rewarded with promotions and stock options. All these practices might be cited as evidence that corporate behavior is instrumentally rational and that the search for power, especially for its own sake, is alien to the firm. This way of thinking and describing things leaves little room for attention to the power games that lie at the center of most organizational life.Thus, making decisions about corporate strategic plans and the budgetary allocations that go with them; defining of core businesses and the shedding of what is not ‘core’; effecting mergers, acquisitions, and alliances; and carrying out radical corporate restructuring that may separate thousands of persons from their jobs and yet dazzlingly reward others would typically be seen by political scientists as behavior that is quite similar to the kind of power struggles that take place every day in public-sector organizations.Behind the veil of corporate myth and rhetoric, managers obviously know about this aspect of their environment as well. So do writers for the financial newspapers, where words such as ‘power struggle’ appear much more frequently than they do in the management journals. How could it be otherwise when the efforts at leveraged buyouts, struggles to introduce one product line and abolish others, and differences over where and how best to invest abroad take on the monumental dimensions reported in the press?It would be astonishing if the persons involved in these events were found to actually believe that considerations of personal and organizational power are not germane to them. Nevertheless, as Hardy and Clegg (1996) noted, ‘the hidden ways in which senior managers use power behind the scenes to further their position by shaping legitimacy, values technology and information are conveniently excluded from analysis. This narrow definition o bscures the true workings of power and depoliticizes organizational life’ (p. 629). Attempts to correct the queasy orientation to the reality of conflict and power struggles have been relatively rare.One reason is that not just the actors in the corporate community but also students of such things come to believe in the mythologies about empowered employees, concern for the stakeholders, the rationality of managerial decisions, and the pathology of power-seeking within organizations. Their belief is a pity in that, without doubt, the structure of power, explicit or implied rules about its use, and the norms that attach to overt and covert power-seeking will deeply affect the capacity of the organization to learn (Coopey 1995).In any case, there can be no doubting the fact, however much it may continue to be obscured in the corridors of corporate power, that struggles of this kind deeply affect corporate life its external behavior; and who gets what, when, and how within these institutions (Coopey 1995: 202–5). The Benefits of Power Struggle Power struggle, of course, is not the only aspect of organizations worth study, and the world of politics is not just Hobbesian in nature. Cooperation is the obverse of conflict.How power is defined and whether the definition reflects left-wing or right-wing bias makes a difference in thinking about or conceptualizing the salience of power in organizations (Hardy and Clegg 1996: 623–5). In particular, it is essential that one avoid any definition or relatively broad conceptualization that does not take into account that, in any organization the existing ‘rules of the game’ even if they are considered highly rational and ‘legitimate’, constitute in themselves the outcome of an earlier (and typically ongoing) struggle over control of an organization’s resources (Hardy and Clegg 1996: 629).When the ubiquitous existence of power struggle within organizations is acknowledged and put into proper perspective, when power-seeking (even when the impulse is entirely ego-centered and not driven by organizational needs) is accepted as normal behavior, and when it is recognized that no existing organizational structure is entirely neutral, only then can one hope to clarify what kind of single-loop or double-loop learning is likely to occur.For example, Coopey (1995) argued, correctly in my view, that where the distribution of power within an organization is hierarchical and asymmetrical, the type of organizational learning that proceeds in such contexts will tend to buttress the status quo. Their reasoning makes sense not just because, for example, the learning process tends to favor senior managers but also because the kind and quality of information to which those managers have access becomes, in itself, an instrument for exercising and preserving one’s favorable position in the power hierarchy.In the public sector, double-loop learning is even more imp eded and therefore rarer than in the private sphere. The reason is that politics, in both the organizational environment and political organizations, actually infuses every aspect of what public-sector organizations are and what they do. The more important the sphere of action or the issues treated by these bodies and the more public attention they draw, the more difficult it will be to reach consensus.And once consensus is reached, the more improbable it will be that anyone will either want to modify it or succeed in doing so—no matter what the feedback about the policies and their efficacy may turn out to be (Smith and Deering 1984: 263–70). Double-loop learning in the public sphere is impeded also by the formal separation of policy-making and policy implementation, as for example between legislative and administrative bodies. As noted earlier, policies are infrequently the choices of the organizations called on to implement them.In this setting, endemic to governmen tal systems, certain types of impediments to organizational learning tend to materialize. On the principal’s side, there may not be sufficient time, or technical competence, or interest to learn what is actually going on with policy implementation. The probability is low, therefore, that those who make policy and set organizational goals will ever get information that might encourage a realistic articulation of goals and a rational specification of the means to be used in goal achievement.Organized interest groups are well aware of this gap. As a consequence, their typical strategy is to keep fighting for what they want, not only when alternative policies are up for consideration but also (sometimes particularly) after an unwanted policy has formally been adopted but must still face the vagaries of being carried out. On the agent’s side, whatever is learned about policy implementation that might urge a change of methods or of the policy itself may never be articulated at all, for to do so might upset an existing political equilibrium.Not only are these equilibria difficult to obtain in the first place, they often also involve an unspoken, symbiotic relationship—often dubbed the ‘Iron Triangle’ (e. g. Heclo 1978: 102)—between a specialized legislative committee, a bureaucratic agency responsible for administering the specialized policies, and the organized interests that benefit from particular policies, particular ways of implementing these policies, or both. Potential learning that would upset this balance of forces finds very rough sledding.The treatment of whistle-blowers, who sometimes go public with revelations of misguided or distorted policies or of bad methods used in their administration, is eloquent evidence of this problem. One way to overcome the stasis implied by these tendencies is to encourage power struggles, not to obscure them (Lindblom 1971: 21–42, 64–7). Nothing will galvanize the atten tion of politicians and bureaucrats more than learning that organized groups with a vested interest in a given policy and large numbers of faithful voters are unhappy about a particular aspect of public policy.When these groups lie outside the Iron Triangle, they are far less inhibited by considerations of equilibria then when they are inside it. This single-issue focus is indeed one of the reasons why even small and not well-financed public advocacy groups can sometimes be very effective in bringing about change (Heclo 1978). The trick is to maximize transparency, to encourage more group intervention as well as prompt the media to provide more, and more responsible, investigative reporting than they usually offer.Today it appears that the Internet is quickly becoming an important instrument for the timely, accurate, and detailed exposure, now on a global scale, of conditions that require correction. The organizational learning implications of this development are potentially enormo us. Increased transparency implies, if nothing else, a more democratic, capillary diffusion and sharing of information (see also Friedman, Lipshitz, and Overmeer in this volume).In an organizational context, whether in the private or the public sphere, this fact alone modifies the form, quality, and spread of learning; it also brings about a modification of the organizational power structure itself. Such modifications also mean that the structure and configuration of conflict will change. In political science this kind of transformation, which widens and deepens competition, is considered to have healthy implications for the overall political system in which competition takes place.That is, benefits are expected to derive from the fact that the ‘market’ becomes, in comparison to the more dirigiste state, more Smithian, less concentrated, and less dominated by a handful of competitors who, rhetoric aside, rarely pursue the general welfare but rather much narrower conside rations. At the very least, increased transparency and the broadening of the competitive sphere clearly require that political managers develop a set of skills that permit them to meet such challenges and function well within these constraints.New Signals from the Private Sector Something similar to this attitude about encouraging conflict may be developing in the private sector. Gortner et al. (1987) lamented that theories of the organization ‘simply do not deal with the issue of politics, and . . . [that these theories] interpret power as an internal phenomenon usually related to the area of leadership’ (p. 76). But change may be afoot in this respect for at least two reasons.Contributors to this volume as well as writers such as Pfeffer (1981, 1997), Coopey (1995) and Hardy and Clegg (1996) may well succeed in their efforts to raise self-consciousness and broaden and refine theories of the organization and organizational learning to include attention to power and pol itics. Second, variations and abrupt changes in the environment of business are ubiquitous today and likely to intensify tomorrow. It could not be otherwise in an era of globalization of the firm, in which, more than ever before, firms venture into a wide variety of cultural settings.In addition, managers increasingly come from a wide variety of cultures and professional backgrounds where values and norms are not necessarily carbon copies of each other. An organization’s capacity to read signals about politics and power distributions, outside as well as inside the firm, and to make quick, constructive adaptations to them will represent not just a luxury but also a necessary condition for establishing a competitive advantage in the global marketplace.In limiting cases, this capacity may actually become a necessary condition for survival. Power-driven behavior within the firm not only is endemic to such organizations but remains salient irrespective of the degree to which the f irm succeeds in creating an internal environment that is homogeneous, harmonious, and collaborative—an environment peopled by those who share corporate values and a corporate culture and who stress collective over individual goals (Handy 1993: 123–49).By definition, the firm is typically an organization that places high value on the competitive spirit. That spirit is an aspect of human behavior everywhere and that can scarcely be divorced from the impulse to obtain and hang on to disproportionate shares of power. Improved understanding of the structure of such internal competition also illuminates the relationship between these kinds of patterns and corporate learning (Coopey 1995: 197–8; Hardy and Clegg 1996: 633–5; Kotter 1979: 9–39).Increased attention to power (even if the term itself is not used) is implicit in the corporate community’s recent encouragement of internal open expression of objections to existing policies and of open compe tition between units of the company and between its members. Bringing these universal underlying conditions to the surface may be inevitable, given how much more variegated today’s large-scale companies are from those in the past, not just in technology, product lines, and personnel but above all in the great diversity of markets and cultures in which they now operate.The less homogeneous the international firm becomes, the more difficult it will be to mask the fact that corporate life, like political life, involves a good deal of organizational and individual struggle over power. Power Linkages and Networks Because conflict and power struggle in public-sector organizations are both internal and external, their managers are impelled to search the environment for opportunities to form alliances. Sometimes such alliances are of the Iron Triangle variety, but they are certainly not limited to this form. The idea is to create structural linkages that will improve one’s cha nces of prevailing.As public policies become more salient for the firm, the firm too, will experience increased need to expand its own networks beyond those that already exist in the marketplace. Linkages with public bodies, for example, cannot be optimized (as once may have been the case) through the use of consultants and lobbyists. Structures and capabilities consonant with the establishment of direct networks come to replace or supplement these older approaches. Multinational corporations that operate abroad, where public policies represent new risks for the firm as well as new opportunities as well, have often moved in exactly this networking direction.One indicator of this change is the proliferation not just of equity joint ventures (as opposed to the once-dominant fetish of the wholly owned subsidiary) but also all manner of other interfirm alliance, designed to optimize, in overseas local markets, the use of firms and their managers who have extensive experience there. In t he case of U. S. companies, this type of change was also spurred by the passage of the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act a generation ago. At home, one immediate consequence of this legislation was a sharp increase in the number of in-house attorneys employed by American firms.Overseas, it led to a much more intense search for the ways and means of finding arrangements that can somehow enable overseas U. S. firms to engage in corporate behavior that was unexceptional abroad but suspect or even outright unacceptable at home. The globalization of enterprise, the growth of networks in which the firm becomes involved at home and abroad, also brings about a considerable extension of learning methods and horizons, if not a new type of organizational learning in the private sector. The international firm becomes more sensitized to power configurations and power equilibria.The search is broadened as well as intensified in order to identify aspects of the environment that might impinge on corpor ate success. The quality of intelligence relevant to business operations at home and abroad is improved, as is the knowledge about the location and means of access to points in the decision-making process that relate to public policies affecting the foreign investor. A keen sense that each environment has its unique aspects as well as dimensions that are general to any environment impels the firm to sharpen its analytical instruments and thereby try to improve its learning.Efforts to create a total quality system come to include not just the production, distribution, and servicing of a firm’s products but also the firm’s ability to recognize power and power struggles for what they are and to attune its learning methods to profit from this new capability. Types of Power Distributions and Equilibria Although power equilibria are never permanent, they tend to last for a long time. The reform of governmental bodies tends to be greatly resisted because, even when reforms ar e relatively mild, they threaten existing equilibria (Seidman 1977).As a rule, unless quick and deep change is the goal, it is better for an organization (inside or outside the public/political sphere) to learn how to operate within an existing equilibrium than to make efforts to change it. Indeed, it is almost axiomatic that, where a radical departure in public policy is intended, creating a new organization is far preferable to seeking achievement of these new goals through the existing system (Levin and Sanger 1994: 172–3).Events of this kind, though rare, provide highly fluid opportunities to achieve first-mover advantages as new networks and a new equilibrium are established. In this regard, it makes a difference whether the overall configuration of the political system is monocratic or pluralist, unitary or federal, highly centralized or characterized by broad delegation or devolution of powers. That is, power equilibria at the microlevels will be influenced in no small measure by the configuration of the larger system in which these equilibria are embedded.Pluralism Pluralist systems tend to maximize not only the number of individuals and organizations able to intervene in the policy-making and policy implementation processes but also the number of channels through which the interventions occur. Pluralism implies minute and fragmented representation of interests. The underlying assumption is that equality of opportunity, central to democratic theory, should also apply to the policy-making process. It will obviously make a difference which groups prevail in these efforts to exercise influence.It is equally important whether and what kinds of groups can bring some order to the process by aggregating a number of small groups under a single organizational umbrella. Pluralism also invites much debate. In theory, when consensus is achieved, it is expected to be very strong, precisely because of widespread opportunities that interested parties have for being consulted and hearing the views of others. Again in theory, this system of broad participation should also optimize the discovery both of best solutions and of innovative ideas about public policies and how best to achieve them.It is behind such policies, according to pluralist democratic theory, that one can expect the strongest collective effort to emerge. And given all of these assumptions, consensual policies are likely to be well administered and widely accepted as long as they achieve expected aims. Within this rich mosaic of interactive participation, organizational learning is presumably optimized, as are the efficacious making and implementation of public policies. There are also negative sides to pluralism, and they are well known to organizational theorists.A plethora of communication channels easily degenerates into information overload. This overload in turn can lead to never-ending debates that wind up in stalemates or paralysis. There may be too much talk, too m any options raised, and little inclination, or indeed ability, to reach closure. An even more notable objection to this mode of decision-making is the raised probability that it will produce only lowest-common-denominator outcomes. The need to balance competing forces and to find acceptable compromises implies that only in extreme emergencies can pluralist systems adopt radical measures.Pluralism and the forceful, timely management of issues do not sit easily side by side. Hence, it seems valid to presume that such systems will not work well within a corporate structure that, almost by definition, is expected to be hierarchical and unitary (Hardy and Clegg 1996: 622–6). Monocratic and Unitary Systems Monocratic and unitary systems are highly centralized. If they permit a broad representation of interests, it is likely to be within a framework that is much more disciplined than that of pluralist systems.Monocratic and unitary systems are able to act even when broad consensus m ay be wanting or impossible to bring about. Participation from the ground up, so to speak, is not so loose or permissive as to actually tie the hands of or paralyze those at the center. Compared to pluralist systems, monocratic arrangements tend to be less democratic (not to be confused with undemocratic). They may involve broad, well-articulated participation in policy-making and implementation, but within limits.They tend to be more intolerant of inputs that are judged to be dysfunctional. They are immensely more suspicious of interventions in the formal decision-making and policy implementation process by groups and organizations that are not official, or not officially approved by the government. The tensions between pluralistic/democratic and unitary/monocratic arrangements are not unlike those found within corporations that move in the direction of empowerment of those located toward the bottom of the pyramidal hierarchy.As I have suggested, this pyramid is not just one of pos itions and authority but also of command and control. That is, as long as the pyramid remains a pyramid, even slightly, it is a power arrangement governed by rules that, with rare exceptions, are themselves the outcome of a power struggle. Serious efforts to empower persons who have not had very much power, or who through empowerment will come to exercise more of it than in the past, clearly imply a widening and deepening of participation in decision-making both in the making of corporate policies and in their implementation.It is no wonder that changes of this kind, as well as those designed to bring stakeholders meaningfully into such processes, are fraught with complications and that they usually degenerate into not much more than lip-service platitudes (Coopey 1995). Monocratic and unitary political systems, such as those typically found in Europe and elsewhere outside the United States (and to some extent outside Great Britain), accord very high status to the state writ large. Those who manage the state are more inclined to redirect, minimize, and, if necessary, override interference from civil society when this interference threatens to paralyze government.Reasons of state, as the justification is often called, will lead to closure of debate and then to public action, presumably in favor of the community as a whole. In monocratic systems, popular sovereignty and broad participation by the masses or by organized groups will not be permitted to place the state and its overriding welfare at risk. This attitude is similar to the posture of senior corporate managers who are scarcely about to tolerate modes of empowerment or participation that might cast serious doubt on the company’s mission, the rationality of its basic long-term strategy, or the company’s very survival.Nevertheless, in the corporate sphere, as in the sphere of the state, the powers available to managers must be and often are used to end an aura of legitimacy not just to existi ng rules and policies but also to the outcomes that derive from them (Hardy and Clegg 1996: 630). Federalism Federalism adds another facet to this discussion. As a political concept that stands in opposition to that of unitary structures, federalism implies a division of power on the basis of territory.A much-touted advantage of federalism is that it permits the bringing together, under one central authority, of territorial units that differ quite markedly from each other in many ways. This would include, say, the size of their population or territory; their racial or linguistic make-up; and a wide range of social, economic, and even political conditions. Federal systems represent ways of organizing and managing diversity. In the realm of politics, experience has shown that these systems are therefore much more viable means of managing large nations than are highly centralized unitary systems.In fact, most of these nations are of the federal, not the unitary, variety—even the Soviet Union and the People’s Republic of China in their so-called totalitarian heyday. Federalism also maximizes the amount of experimentation (with different laws, institutions, electoral arrangements, administrative organizations, and the like) that can take place under a common political roof. This umbrella-like structure permits, indeed encourages, the search for best practice in institutional form and relationships and in policy-making and implementation. This feature of federalism encourages, permits, and, indeed encourages self-conscious learning.In the United States, for example, there are formal organizations designed to provide the individual states and major cities with information about the potentially innovative or effective approaches that each may be taking to, organizational procedures or public policy. Similar information-sharing institutions also exist at the international level. This institutionalized learning is designed in the broadest sense to raise th e quality and lower the cost of governmental services. In a federal setting the political center shares a number of powers with other territorial units. Except in estricted areas, it cannot pretend to be the exclusive holder or exerciser of power and authority. Even where in formal terms the political center’s authority may be exclusive and where policies are expected to be uniformly administered throughout the system’s territories and subunits, considerable local variation must be permitted. Unitary systems, by contrast, permit much less flexibility of this type. The central authority within such systems exercises nearly exclusive authority to make system-wide policies, and it is also expected that these policies will be uniformly administered everywhere.Any deviation from centrally established policies, indeed any policy-making within subnational units, proceeds only with some sort of authorization by the center. As often said in France, if one wishes to know exactly what children might be doing at a certain hour of any school day, it is sufficient to consult the manual issued by the appropriate ministry in Paris. The unitary form is highly analogous to the world-wide business firm, including firms organized by product group or division, in which authority and control are concentrated in a single, central organization.The preceding, post-war development of the multinational corporation, at least in the United States, proceeded for the most part on the basis of this model. It was thought that the revolutions in jet travel and electronics made such centralized control both desirable and feasible. That is, these changes in the speed and facility of travel and communication were said to make possible the global extension of the so-called Sloan model of the corporation, a model that had worked so well within the United States.Feedback and Learning No matter whether the basic structure is pluralistic or monocratic, federal or unitary, the need for fe edback from which the center can presumably learn is universal. Federal systems, because they produce many streams of information, may be more open but less efficient than unitary systems. Unitary systems, although in theory narrower and easier to control than federal systems are in terms of information-producing channels, are at high risk of having information delayed, distorted, or misdirected.It is apparent, however, that the center often deludes itself into believing that, with a highly disciplined and centralized organizational weapon at its disposal (like the Communist party under Stalin in the USSR or the Chinese Communist party under Mao), it can both learn and control what transpires at the periphery (Hough 1969). The fallacious assumption in this instance is that a centralized and highly disciplined organizational instrument, such as the Communist party, can prevail irrespective of whether the overall system is of the federal or unitary configuration.Pluralism and Federali sm in the Firm? A pluralist and federal model of the polity ill fits the generally held image of the firm and of other private-sector organizations. Decision-making of the kind represented by the typical firm can scarcely follow a pluralist model to the letter, at least not without a rethinking of a great many well-established notions of what a world-scale company should be and how it should be run. Within the firm great emphasis is placed on clear lines of authority, both horizontal and vertical.The global firm still tries to instill a single corporate culture so that the hierarchy of values, the operational norms, and the modus operandi will be essentially the same wherever its branches and units may be located. This model leaves little room for pluralist inputs and local diversity. Pluralist democracies and federal systems thrive (most of the time) on their multicultural dimensions. Rather than eliminate diversity, it is honored and encouraged. In the corporate world, much of wha t is claimed about decentralization, ‘planning from the bottom up’, and individual empowerment often is spurious.Senior managers in the corporate world are rarely able or inclined to practice the decentralization or the broad and deep participation that they may preach. More often than not they use the considerable powers at their disposal not to encourage debate that leads to consent but rather to mobilize consent itself (Hardy and Clegg 1996: 626). In the public/political sector, a key test of how seriously the center wishes to encourage diversity and favor empowerment lies in the practice of devolution, as opposed to decentralization.Devolution, typically practiced on a territorial basis, substantially reduces the powers of the center over the periphery, sometimes drastically. The strongest indicator of this reduction is the empowerment of the periphery not only to make policies but also to tax or otherwise raise capital in connection with these policies. Such transf ers, in turn, encourage high levels of competition between the subnational units of federal systems, sometimes creating very difficult problems at the center.Devolution increases pluralism. When hierarchy is replaced by something composed of rather free-acting units, managers need to develop skills that are germane to these changed circumstances. It is one thing when a person’s position makes it possible to mobilize consent and conforming behavior; it is quite another story when both of these things must be generated within the context of a relatively open, participatory, and fluid system of reaching consensus on what should be done and how best to do it.It is possible that the globalization of enterprise will force an increase in genuinely federal arrangements on the firm, a shift that would certainly imply moving away from a strict unitary, hierarchical model and award one that is genuinely more participatory, even if more difficult to manage. Charles Handy (1996) stated th at such a change may be taking place (pp. 33–56), although even he suggested that the application of federal principles to the corporate world will, perhaps inevitably, be imperfect (pp. 109–12).The creation of similar federal structures, even ones remaining distant from devolution, requires a new look at many of the most canonical ideas about how best to organize and manage the profit-seeking enterprise. On close inspection, the sometimes spectacular downsizing and other changes in corporate structures since about 1990 do not appear to have brought about radical operational changes in hierarchical structure. In both the public and the private sectors, centralized control of organizations dies hard.Nevertheless, the federal thrust in many of today’s global firms should not be underestimated. In the truly global firm, where multinationality is not just a label, traditional arrangements for strategic plans, corporate finance, and capital budgeting—which are still basically monocratic and unitary in nature—will gradually be revised. It is misleading to think, as so many corporate managers still do, that the continuing electronic and information technology revolutions will permit efficient global control from a single, geographically dis