The Problem with Exceptions
November 22, 2011
Picking up where my last blog left off, this posting presents two more of six lessons that experience has taught me during my enriching years with the MHSAA.
Lesson No. 2: Beware of bad precedent.
An exception today that doesn’t seem to matter much is almost certain to be recalled and used against you tomorrow when it really does matter. People have poor memories for most things, but they have long memories for exceptional things, like making an exception to a rule.
A corollary to this lesson is that “no good deed goes unpunished.”
Lesson No. 2 is closely related to Lesson No. 3: The path of least resistance usually is not.
Making an exception for a squeaky wheel will likely lead to more noise, not less.
One corollary to this lesson is that there will be more fallout when people believe you have ignored rules than when people believe you have been heartless in applying the rules as stated.
A second corollary to this is that following the rules is the safest harbor during stormy seas.
See What You Say
July 31, 2012
Edward Morgan Forster is an English novelist who died as I was graduating as an English major at Dartmouth College in 1970.
Like many creative writers, E. M Forster traveled the world; and of his six novels (each of which was made into a film), it is A Passage to India, written in 1924, that was most popular.
He also wrote many short stories, plays, film scripts, essays, literary criticism, two biographies and even a libretto. He was, to say the least, a prolific writer.
The secret of his productivity is probably the genius and tortured soul which drives so many great authors. However, there is one quote from E. M. Forster that may be especially revealing. He said: “How do I know what I think until I see what I say?” He was a writer in order to be a better thinker.
I have neither genius nor a tortured soul; but what has driven me to write throughout my administrative career – and what has kept me blogging twice a week for three full years as of today – is that I cannot be sure what I know – or what I believe and will stand behind – until I can see it in writing and know that it will be read by others. That’s when I begin to know what I really think.