Of Kool-Aid and Crow

It’s been said that revenge is a dish best served cold, but no one seems to offer any advice when it comes to consuming two other items that we would do well on the one hand to avoid and on the other to keep in ready supply.

I refer, of course, to Kool-Aid and crow.

If you’ve spent any time in a mission-driven environment — be it the nonprofit world or, say, politics — you know that it’s very easy to get caught up in the narrative that propels the mission. We become true believers, if not zealots, embodying and espousing the mantras of our organization, our cause or our candidate.

Passion is critical. In fact, it’s essential to generate the energy that powers the mission machine. Passion undergirds effort. Passion attracts talent. Passion drives persistence.

But passion can also blind us to competing narratives. It can cause us to accept ideas, initiatives, even people that ignite our passion without critical analysis or quiet reflection.

If you’re the leader of a nonprofit organization or a follower of a charismatic candidate, you know what it is to be driven by a cause. You know how intoxicating it can be to find yourself totally and uncritically immersed.

In other words, it’s really easy to drink the Kool-Aid.

But therein lies danger. No organization can achieve its mission without compromise. No candidate is entirely pure. No cause exists in a vacuum. No person is without fault.

Organizational leaders and political activists alike must not only strike an appropriate balance between passion for the mission and an understanding of the possible, they must know when they have consumed the dangerous intoxicant of uncritical zealotry.

And when a leader recognizes that they’ve drunk the Kool-Aid, credibility and integrity demand that they accept a healthy serving of crow.

From my own experience, I know that uncritical passion for a mission can reflect an insensitivity to the full impacts of policy.

In international trade, for example, we know that open markets typically increase competition, which often lowers prices, but unfettered free trade leads almost inevitably to downward pressure on wages in the interest of improving margins.

Relentless advocacy in the interest of greater consumption often results in negative and lasting impacts, and it’s wrong to suggest otherwise. As was bluntly pointed out to me during a discussion with a professor of international economics, a rising tide does not lift all boats, and it’s naive if not dangerous to think otherwise.

Which brings us to that modest portion of crow. Needless to say, you’ve no business leading an organization if you don’t believe the mission is important and worthy of your passion. You must be sufficiently energized by the mission to give it your all.

But you must also recognize that neither the world nor your organization is a laboratory or some kind of controlled environment which can be insulated from distraction, imperfection and the whole gamut of human frailty.

If you find you’re getting close to drinking the Kool-Aid, put the pitcher down. Take a breath. Perfection and purity are not, happily, the standards to which any cause or any individual can reasonably be held. Own the positive parts of the mission; acknowledge the weaknesses. Work to maximize the positive outcomes and minimize the negative impacts.

And if you find you’ve binged on the Kool-Aid, know that it is not too late to make amends through critical analysis, through outreach, learning and a greater sensitivity to the impacts of the work.

Be sure, even in the headiest of times, to save a little room for crow.

Whether it’s served hot or cold, it’s a dish best consumed with an understanding that learning comes not always from what is sweet, but from what reminds us of the need to remain open and engaged with diverse views and other perspectives.