MORE POWER TO HIS ELBA!

Hello again, and welcome to February's edition of The Autolycan, which has a distinctly French feel to it.  I hope will cause you to spare a thought for Napoleon Bonaparte - it can't have been easy for the poor chap, holed up in Moscow and pestered by his country's bureaucracy.........

As ever, if you like this one, do please feel free to forward the link to other easily pleased souls!

MORE POWER TO HIS ELBA!

The agency behind France's census was left red-faced this week after sending out a letter to a French citizen who died almost 200 years ago. As if that wasn't bad enough, the recipient was none other than Napoleon Bonaparte himself.

                                                                                THE LOCAL – France's news in English

The shadows were lengthening rapidly in the icy Russian capital when Napoleon heard a knock on the door of his commandeered office.

'Come!'

The door opened and Napoleon continued to study the papers on his desk as he motioned Marshals Berthier and Ney to sit down. Eventually, he looked up, his face gaunt and grey, the strain of the long march and the bloody battle at Borodino showing in his unshaven appearance, his dull, sunken eyes and in the deep furrows etched across his forehead.

'Speak.'

'Sir,' began Berthier, 'Ney and I were hoping to touch base with you offline.'

Napoleon's countenance was wholly impassive as he stared at his subordinate.

'We've thought showered some ideas, sir, and then transitioned to 360 degree thinking.'

'And?'

'I know you're time stressed, sir,' broke in Ney, 'so let me just give you the helicopter view. Our overall situation requires improvement.'

'In what way?'

'So, let's drill down into the data and look at the granularity,' continued Ney. 'If I may speak plainly, sir, Berthier and I have identified multiple operational disconnects at the vision/actuality interface which are disconducive to mission delivery in real time.'

Napoleon rolled his eyes.

'Meaning?'

Ney drew a deep breath. He was going to have to come clean.

'Moscow has been largely destroyed, sir, we have very little food or shelter, the Russian winter is closing in fast and our army is neither equipped nor clothed for it.'

'I see.'

'We can't let the grass grow too long on this one, sir.' went on Berthier. 'If we circle the wagons here in Moscow, we starve. We left supplies at Smolensk on the way here, and some may have survived. I don't want to push the panic button, sir, but we should be going back, going forward.'

Napoleon stood up, and moved to the one window in the room. It was filthy and the glass was cracked. It rattled ominously in the wind. His gaze fell on a few stray dogs scavenging for scraps in the bitterly cold evening air.

'I am afraid' he began 'that we cannot leave Moscow just yet.'

'No, sir?'

Napoleon gestured towards the untidy jumble of papers on his desk.

'No. It's this confounded census form. As emperor I feel I must set an example by completing it fully by the due date, but it is extraordinarily difficult. The questions don't really seem to fit our circumstances.'

'How's that, sir?'

'Well, look at 10.2 for example. It asks how I travel to work. There isn't a box for 'on horseback' and to describe what we've just been through as 'walking to work' scarcely seems adequate. Or take 5.3 – did I do any paid work last week as an employee? An employee? It hardly becomes the dignity of the Emperor of the French to describe himself as a mere employee. The closest I could find was freelance. Then there are other difficulties – what sort of central heating have we got? Everything here is burning, so is it solid fuel? But the real problem........'

'Challenge, sir' interrupted Ney.

'Or opportunity' trilled Berthier.

Napoleon turned and fixed his gaze on them.

'The real problem' he repeated, enunciating slowly and clearly 'is 14.7.'

'14.7, sir?'

'Yes. You see, they want to know whether my current gender is the same as the one I was assigned at birth. I confess I am at something of a loss. Did either of you by any chance benefit from a programme of sex education while you were at school?'

Embarrassed, they shook their heads.

'I thought probably not. The Head at my school wouldn't hear of such a thing and so I am not as well informed on such matters as I feel a modern and progressive emperor should be. However, from what I understand of the way these things work, I believe my mother would have been present at the time of my birth and she may have some recollection of the event. I have written to her in the hope that she may be able to shed some light on the matter. I fear though that it could take some time for her reply to arrive. In the meantime, I have been addressing myself to the tricky question of whether or not I am in a civil or same sex partnership.'

'Of course you are, sir!' exclaimed Berthier excitedly. 'Partnership is in our corporate DNA!'

'We're passionate about partnership!' broke in Ney. 'You and Berthier and I are always leveraging synergies in partnership to action key deliverables!'

Napoleon's face was expressionless.

'Maybe,' he murmured, 'or maybe not. But either way it is not entirely clear to me that that is what they meant. I have sought the advice of both Joséphine and Marie Louise on this point. Together with one or two others. However, I have not been wasting time while I await the outcome of these consultations.'

'I'm delighted to hear it, sir. Have you been strategising our triumphant withdrawal from Moscow?'

'No.'

'No, sir? Then what.......'

'I have been catching up on my NVQ.'

'Your NVQ?'

'Yes. I'm doing the Diploma in Management, Level 7.'

'The men will be truly inspired to see you taking your own CPD seriously, sir!'

'Perhaps. You see, when I was consulted on the draft census questionnaire, I realised that when the time came to complete my form I would be embarrassed by my lack of management qualifications. Naturally, I could not commit to a full time course and so decided to go the part time route and undertake an evidence based qualification. Keeping it up while marching the Grande Armée across much of Northern Europe has not been easy, but I felt I had amassed a considerable body of evidence to demonstrate competence across most of the criteria. I have though recently received some disappointingly critical comments from my assessor, who is unhappy with the example I chose to show how I have increased efficiency.'

'That could be dismotivational, sir, but if you'd care to cross-pollinate with us we could maybe help with some blue sky thinking.'

Napoleon raised a contemptuous eyebrow.

'Really? We set off on this campaign with some 5 to 600,000 men, perhaps even more. Men of very considerable racial and ethnic diversity, I may say, which stood me in very good stead for the whole of Unit 4. The ravages of disease and battle in particular have reduced those numbers very substantially, but we have nonetheless achieved the objective of reaching Moscow. Perhaps foolishly, I argued that reducing headcount in this way resulted in efficiency savings.'

'But if it ticks the right box....'

'Apparently not. My assessor suggested that this reduction in numbers, far from reflecting a 'strategic staircase' – I believe that was the phrase used – was in fact a monumental blunder. She did offer some consolation though, suggesting that my work on this question was not entirely wasted and could be adapted for my answer on the topic of reflecting on practice and learning lessons from mistakes. I thought that was very constructive of her. However, she also felt that the campaign thus far reflects badly on my risk management - the risk assessment I carried out before we set off perhaps being inadequate. I am left with a dreadful foreboding that in future times a man who has achieved great success but then for whatever reason suffered a serious reverse will be said to have met his Moscow.'

Napoleon cut a forlorn figure as he returned to his desk and sat down.

'Could I suggest an upward feedback session, sir?'

'No. And in any case, there is worse to come. I am worried that my assessor is unimpressed with my comments on stakeholders.'

'Stakeholders?'

'Yes. I fear I have perhaps been too clever by half. You see, it occurred to me that without a Russian army there could be no campaign, and I therefore argued that they too were stakeholders in the overall enterprise. However, my attempts to consult and engage with them have been largely frustrated by their tactic of retreating before us, burning and destroying as they go. I have reluctantly been forced to move them from Opportunity to Threat in my SWOT analysis, although I can turn this to some advantage insofar as I can present it as evidence of willingness to change and adapt. It's the one about 'reviewing and updating personal work objectives in the light of performance and wider changes.' Finding Moscow burnt to a cinder surely counts as a wider change.'

'Perhaps we could offer counselling support, sir.'

'I doubt that would help.' He turned to look at them. 'I thank you for your assessment of our situation, but I now wish to be left alone. Dismissed.'

It took Berthier and Ney a couple of days to forge a convincing letter from Napoleon's mother, but once they were satisfied with it Ney slipped into the emperor's office early one morning and hid it inconspicuously amongst the rest of the post in the in tray. Napoleon was both curious and excited when he reached it, and his fingers trembled as he opened the envelope.

He had to plough through interminable details of the small doings of family members together with accounts of the amusing behaviour of the cat before he arrived at the kernel of the letter and the assurance that he had indeed been born male. He sighed with a relief which was tempered with some exasperation at his 'mother's' concluding exhortations to change his underwear regularly and wrap up warm when he went outside. Surely these were matters that His Imperial and Royal Majesty Napoleon I, By the Grace of God and the Constitutions of the Empire, Emperor of the French, King of Italy - and a good deal more besides - might be allowed to determine for himself! He considered the range and extent of his titles. They were rather impressive.......

He summoned Berthier and Ney and informed them of the unexpectedly early arrival of the letter and of its contents. They were suitably surprised and delighted.

'This means' announced Napoleon portentously 'that I can complete the census questionnaire to a standard which is at least satisfactory. How soon can we leave Moscow?'

'Ney and I have been working towards the 21^st October, sir' replied Berthier.

'21^st!' exclaimed Napoleon. 'But winter is drawing on fast! Let's see a bit of urgency! What's wrong with first thing Monday 19^th?'

'Yes, sir!' shouted Berthier and Ney together.

'Just one thing, sir,' said Berthier, 'what about the NVQ?'

'I've been thinking about that' mused Napoleon. 'Emperor of the French and King of Italy, Protector of the Confederation of the Rhine, Mediator of the Helvetic Confederation, Co-Prince of Andorra, Grand Master of the Légion d'honneur.... I have been asking myself if the addition of NVQ (Level 7) at the far end would enhance or detract from the list. A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of coloured ribbon, Berthier, but a simple certificate?'

'Are you sunsetting the idea, sir?'

'Not entirely, if I understand you correctly. But unless my luck changes over the next couple of years I can see myself being deposed and exiled. There will be time enough then.'

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ANAGRAM CORNER

                               M. FRANCOIS HOLLANDE

                             MR H. FANCIES A DOLL, NO?