Zigmanagement
Wayne Tyson
This term I have stolen (or, if you prefer, derived) from the Assyrian word ziggurat, meaning a temple tower of successively receding stories, which is itself derived from ziqqrautu, meaning summit or mountain top, which is derived from ziqaru-, “to be high.” This is not intended to add confusion to the mind-boggling array of management terms, but, of course, I well know that it will. And, I must confess, I hope to introduce a bit of ironic humor to a subject that, while a serious one, is most often discussed in tones and tomes far too serious to be of much communicative value.
The inherent allusions conveyed by the term will be apparent to most any student of management—hierarchy, top, aspiration, accumulation, higher-up, chief executive officer, manipulator, priest—to name a few. I will leave it to each to indulge in the intellectual pathways of choice and to decide whether they should be interpreted as values to be embraced or questioned.
While some might infer a note of absurdity, I hasten to point out that in a more modern parlance the term in French or English brings to mind the more familiar term, “zig-zag,” meaning a pattern of sharp turns. A management interpretation of this could indicate, for example, a pathway of either indecision or necessary changes in the course of a “critical path” analysis. It might also indicate a route of elusion by a gazelle pursued by a lion (literally or figuratively if one thinks of behavior within and between organizations).
Suffice it to say that we need not descend into some semantic wonderland never to return, but can turn to the more serious matter of just how zigmanagement can contribute to the issues at hand. Is zigmanagement a mere joke, a cynical juxtaposition with management of an ancient and obscure word from a language unfamiliar to most, or does it contain useful concepts that can influence the future, nay, avert catastrophe?
If one thinks of this essay as playful, it is. But it is playful in the sense of examining—yes questioning, the sacred tenets of “modern management” and looking deeply and critically into meanings and symbols, myths and sanguine optimism tempered by reality.
This essay is, however, merely the beginning of a quest for the roots of management, to understand it in its most primitive forms and most basic nature. As such, it must needs run counter to much held dear by management gurus, priests, and even some practical practitioners, in search of truly different paths to the future. It also needs to define a means of testing and demonstrating its own directions, zig-zag though they might be.
Just as the past is filled with both progress and disaster, the future cannot be expected to be otherwise. But a management philosophy that continues to question may well find a way to reconcile that dichotomy along at least less-catastrophic lines, zig-zag though they might be. This essay discusses some crucial distinctions that may illuminate this dilemma, beginning with the distinction between linear and integrated thinking and their consequences.