I had the distinct good fortune this week of gaining admittance to the board meeting of a major corporation. Small and aggressive, this company had pulled ahead of much larger rivals but lately had suffered unsettling setbacks.
Posing as a reporter for The New York Times (I wore a button on my lapel that read “All the News that Gives You Fits”), I settled down at the long, polished table and, as I perused the autobiography of Jayson Blair, overheard the following minutes.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the avuncular chairman, a small man who was chomping on an unlit cigar, announced, “the meeting will come to order.”
The murmuring stopped and twenty men with Brillo hair and twenty women in subdued executive colors turned to face him.
“Due to recent setbacks,” he began, “we must take a radically new approach. For our model, I’ve chosen a small country that, like us, has had to fight against large and hostile rivals: Israel.”
A chorus of tentative “ahems” followed this pronouncement.
“Our strategy,” the chairman continued, “will be based upon the principles of the Israeli art of krav magoo.”
At this, a young executive with long sideburns leaned forward gracefully. “I beg your pardon. Don’t you mean ‘krav maga’?”
The chairman conferred with a silent old man with a flattened nose sitting at his right and then replied. “No, I do not. ‘Krav maga,’ as you may know, means ‘contact fighting,’ and refers to an outmoded Israeli form of self-defense. I, on the other hand, am speaking of ‘krav magoo.’ Some of you older folks around the table may retain fond childhood memories of a cartoon character named Mr. Magoo.”
“Indeed!” called out an eager man with a distinguished John Kerry chin. “Mr. Magoo was a little old man with terrible vision who kept walking into houses and vehicular traffic.”
“Precisely,” exclaimed the chairman. “‘Krav magoo’ is a form of judo based on Israeli political procedure: confused, short-sighted men run around banging into each other and into an assortment of obstacles. And yet, miraculously, they haven’t killed themselves. In fact, many of these political leaders, after having smashed blindly into obstacles for five and even six decades, stand at the helm of Israeli politics. Thus, I propose that our company adapt the principles of krav magoo.”
“And what are those principles?” asked an eager young beaver, looking up from his New York Times crossword puzzle.
The chairman chomped on his cigar.
“One,” he said. “Our competitors have used every trick in the book to demonize us. They have physically attacked our deliverymen. They have set fire to stores that carry our merchandise. They have sued us and had our sales staff arrested.”
“But what can we do?” wailed an executive.
“Here is our plan.” The chairman waved his cigar in the air. “First of all, public relations.”
“Excellent! The more the better,” an executive who until this moment had been programming Fur Elise into his cell phone spoke up.
“Au contraire,” the chairman displayed his command of French. “We are going to slash our advertising budget. We will have no customer relations whatsoever — with the exception of statements made by our official spokesman.” With this, he gestured to the mystery man at his right. “Shimon, present our case.”
Shimon, whose nose, it appeared, had gained its present shape after years of krav magoo, stood up stiffly and gazed at a corner of the room. In a thick accent almost impossible to understand, he mumbled, “Our company denies deliberately poisoning twenty thousand people, but we apologize to anyone who was hurt. Our competition is headed by a man who has murdered members of our managerial staff. In response we are supporting him with monthly transfers of $45 million into his personal account. We believe that in this way he will become our true partner in negotiating…?
“Okay, Shimon, we get the idea,” the chairman interrupted him. Shimon muttered something and sat down.
“The next step in krav magoo,” the chairman said, “is unilateralism. From now on, we will no longer wait until we are attacked.”
“Hooray!” a general cry went up around the table.
The chairman smiled.”As you know, we politely asked our competitors not to lynch more than five of our representatives per month. However, they inexplicably take advantage of our every retreat to attack even more mercilessly. As of this moment, we are recalling every single one of our representatives, thus leaving hundreds of markets to be monopolized by our competitors.”
“Uh,” “um,” and other sounds of deep thought filled the room as with furrowed brows executives tried to look wise and knowledgeable.
“Good point,” said one man. “But could I ask for clarification…?”
The chairman waved his cigar again. “Point number three: we are going to grant our competitor’s employees executive positions in our company, where they will easily be able to scheme against us and attempt to totally destroy us.”
There was more hemming and hawing around the table and murmurs of “Interesting…”
But now one gentleman leaped up from his seat. “This is an outrage!” he sputtered. “Conscience does not allow me to stand by as policies that will ruin our company are implemented. Therefore, I state unequivocally that I don’t believe a word that the chairman has just uttered. Obviously, everything he is saying is a brilliant ploy to out-maneuver our competitors. After all, he’s an old friend of mine….”
A second man leaped up. “As for me, I threaten to resign!”
“So do I!” “Me too!” the cries went up around the table, until one booming voice announced, “I threaten to resign two times, and remind you that last year I threatened to resign five times!” This last statement immediately silenced the others.
“Go ahead, resign!” the chairman scoffed. “I am the corporation! I am the industry! I am the world!”
There was a commotion at the door and a policeman burst in. Striding up to the chairman, he handed him a summons. “Chairman,” he stated, “these papers charge you with defrauding the company for your personal gain.”
“You can’t arrest me!” shouted the chairman. “Try it, and I’ll bring our competitors into through these very boardrooms, attacking us verbally and physically.”
“Oops, my mistake!” said the policeman. “Let me take that paper back. By the way, although he has poor grades, my son is a very talented boy….”
“Fine,” the chairman boomed, watching carefully as the policeman tore up the papers. “I’ll put him in charge of the campaign to raise my salary.”
“For he’s a jolly good fellow!” half the executives at the table began to sing, as the leader of the opposition arose and proclaimed, “My opposition to these policies makes it necessary for me to remain at my post so that I may effect change from within. I commit myself to protesting ineffectually and making sure that I retain my executive privileges — I mean, responsibilities….”
“Point number four,” the chairman bellowed. “We deny that we have any right, legal, moral or historical, to engage in any manufacturing or sales activities. In fact, we deny that we have the
right to exist. And we declare this unilaterally!”
“Hooray!” “Boo!” The racket grew unbearably loud. People had risen from the table, they were running around and slugging each other. Someone set fire to the seats, and a woman was spraying a can of Mace blindly before her.
“I am the state!” the voice of the chairman carried over the pandemonium. “I am the ultimate ruler!”
I turned and raced to the exit in a panic. Just as I reached the door, someone grabbed the back of my jacket and pulled me around. It was Shimon, the company spokesman. “We deny all charges of wrong-doing,” he insisted, “and our panel of inquiry has punished our best employees without any evidence whatsoever, thus demonstrating our sensitivity to the baseless accusations leveled against us….”
Something hit the floor and billowed smoke, and I pulled my jacket free and leaped into the hallway. Behind me I heard a crash and the crackle of flames, and I slammed the door shut.
In the corridor, a man accosted me. “What a great company!” he enthused. “What an exciting place to work. These guys are the brightest executives on the face of the planet.”
Too weak to respond, I nodded my head mutely. Maybe krav magoo was just too exciting for me.
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