'Never tell a fool that he is a fool. All you'll have is an angry fool.’
The Talmud

With his long ears, short attention span and boundless energy, springer spaniel Dillon was very much part of the Carroll household. When he wasn’t chasing birds or his own tail in the back garden, he tended to hang around the kitchen in the hope of scraps from his mistress’s table.

One day, at home alone from school, I decided to prepare myself a Bejam meat pie and baked beans. Though no culinary expert, I felt I was up to the task.

Dillon sat up straight, anticipating opportunity.

I located a meat pie in the chest freezer we kept in the garden shed and promptly popped it in the oven, setting the heat at an approximate level. Then I stirred the beans and set to reading the next chapter of my Graham Greene novel. After some time, alerted by a concerned bark from Dillon, I discovered the pie was beginning to burn on top.

That’ll be well done, I thought. And so I slipped it onto a plate and spooned the beans over - with a little dash of HP sauce for good measure.

As I tucked into my mid-day feast Dillon regarded me with fierce intensity.

Blimey. That’s not what I expected. Though burnt to a crisp on the outside, the Bejam meat pie was still frozen on the inside. I didn’t know that was scientifically possible.

I deposited the unsightly mess in the swing bin.

Dillon retired to his station under the telly, the look on his forlorn face suggesting he should have expected nothing better.

I read recently that dogs are able to identify stress in humans from their sweat and breath. Indeed new research published in Behavioural Processes has found that canines are capable of recognizing people’s competence at completing certain tasks.

In the first phase of the study scientists arranged for hungry dogs to watch people attempting to open a food container. The conditions were set so that one sample of humans succeeded in the task (‘The Competent’) and another sample failed (‘The Incompetent’).

When the same humans revisited the exercise in the second phase of the test, they were observed by the same dogs. This time the canny canines fixed their gaze on the Competent openers, ignoring the actions of the Incompetent.

The study concluded that dogs can recognize ineptitude and anticipate its reoccurrence. The article also noted that females are particularly good at spotting inadequacy.

I suspect it’s not just dogs that can sense incompetence. As you walk into the room to find half the attendees are running late. As you embark on a discussion without any clarity about the objectives and duration of the session. As you observe the debate running off subject without any moderation. You just know this is going to be a meandering mess of a meeting.

I’m well aware that many executives think meeting hygiene is beneath them. But what some consider cool, the rest of us consider feckless.

'Details make perfection, and perfection is not a detail.’
Leonardo da Vinci

I often advise Planners to address their career in two phases: rigorous youth and then cavalier maturity. My suggestion is that we should employ the first years of work to learn the ABC of business, to assemble the tools of our trade. After that we can afford to be more self-confident and bold; more flamboyant and expressive.

On hearing this recommendation, most people tend to focus on the cavalier element of it. It sounds like fun. But the tedious truth is that successful careers are founded on rigour, reliability, discipline and attention to detail.

Although Dillon regarded me as inept, he was nonetheless happy to accompany me on brisk walks to Haynes Park and beyond. He had the capacity to forgive failure. Which is perhaps another worthwhile leadership lesson.

'Maybe I'm a fool
For loving you so.
And maybe I'm a fool,
I don’t really know.
But I can't stop loving you, darling,
Even though I tried.

So if you should decide
To try me once more.
All you got to do is knock on my door,
And I'll say that I've taken you back.
If taking you back would be foolish,
Then maybe I'm a fool.’

Aretha Franklin, ‘Maybe I’m a Fool’ (J. L McFarland)

No. 412