On the project battlefield, our "armor" includes policies, processes, hierarchy and reputation. Some pieces provide protection; others hinder and conceal. What armor are you wearing? And what might you safely shed to gain flexibility and agility? The author looks for answers in an ancient parable and a modern-day confrontation in Conference Room Two.
Had I lived among my Celtic ancestors some two thousand years ago, the story might have gone something like this:
Summoned was I, summoned to the stronghold of mine enemy. There he stood, a great brute of a man, brandishing an immense spear and shouting epithets in his foul tongue. My heart did sink as he advanced, for I knew my own short blade was no match for such a great weapon. And so, summoning up all my courage and that of my ancestors, I removed my helm, released the buckles that held my armor and let it fall to the ground. There I stood, unprotected, exposing my breast to his attack. With a might roar he charged toward me, and when his spear-tip was inches away I ducked to the side, reached out with my left arm and grasped his weapon, taking a grievous wound to the hand, and held on with all my might. Unwilling to release his spear, mine enemy attempted to pull the spear away from my grasp. This I fought, and slowly I drew him closer until, when our eyes were but a hand’s breadth apart, I took the small
"But the fact that some geniuses were laughed at does not imply that all who are laughed at are geniuses. They laughed at Columbus, they laughed at Fulton, they laughed at the Wright brothers. But they also laughed at Bozo the Clown."