DigiCom, you saw that Garvin wore jeans. And soon, you wore jeans,too.
"Sure. That was the style of the company."
"Garvin liked the Giants. You began to go to games in Candlestick Park."
"He was the boss, for Christ's sake."
"And Garvin liked golf. So you took up golf, even though you hated it. I remember you complained to me about how much you hated it. Chasing the stupid little white ball."
"Listen. I didn't have plastic surgery to make myself look like his kid."
"Because you didn't have to, Thomas," Dorfman said. He threw up his hands in exasperation. "Can you not see this point? Garvin liked brash, aggressive young men who drank beer, who swore, who chased women. And you did all those things in those days."
"I was young. That's what young men do."
"No, Thomas. That's what Garvin liked young men to do." Dorfman shook his head. "So much of this is unconscious. Rapport is unconscious, Thomas. But the task of building rapport is different, depending on whether you are the same sex as that person, or not. If your mentor is a man, you may act like his son, or brother, or father. Or you may act like that man when he was younger- you may remind him of himself.
True? Yes, you see that. Good.
"But if you are a woman, everything is different. Now you must be your mentor's daughter, or lover, or wife. Or perhaps sister. In any case, very different."
Sanders frowned.
"I see this often, now that men are starting to work for women. Many times men cannot structure the relationship because they do not know how to act as the subordinate to a woman. Not with comfort. But in other cases, men slip easily into a role with a woman. They are the dutiful son, or the substitute lover or husband. And if they do it well, the women in the organization become angry, because they feel that they cannot compete as son or lover or husband to the boss. So they feel that the man has an advantage."
Sanders was silent.
"Do you understand?" Dorfman said.
"You're saying it happens both ways."
"Yes, Thomas. It is inevitable. It is the process."
"Come on, Max. There's nothing inevitable about it. When Garvin's daughter died, it was a personal tragedy. He was upset, and Meredith took advantage of"
"Stop," Dorfman said, annoyed. "Now you want to change human nature? There are always tragedies. And people always take advantage. This is nothing new. Meredith is intelligent. It is delightful to see such an intelligent, resourceful woman who is also beautiful. She is a gift from God. She is delightful. This is your trouble, Thomas. And it has been a long time coming."
"What does that-"
"And instead of dealing with your trouble, you waste your time with these . . . trivialities." He handed back the pictures. "These are not important, Thomas."
"Max, will you-"
"You were never a good corporate player, Thomas. It was not your strength. Your strength was that you could take a technical problem and grind it down, push the technicians, encourage them and bully them, and finally get it solved. You could make it work. Is that not so?"
Sanders nodded.
"But now you abandon your strengths for a game that does not suit you."
"Meaning what?"
"You think that by threatening a lawsuit, you put pressure on her and on the company. In fact, you played into her hands. You have let her define the game, Thomas."
"I had to do something. She broke the law."
"She broke the law," Dorfman mimicked him, with a sarcastic whine. "Oh me, oh my. And you are so defenseless. I am filled with sorrow for your plight."
"It's not easy. She's well connected. She has strong supporters."
"Is that so? Every executive with strong supporters has also strong detractors. And Meredith has her share of detractors."
"I tell you, Max," Sanders said, "she's dangerous. She's one of those MBA image people, focused on image, everything image, never substance."
"Yes," Dorfman said, nodding approvingly. "Like so many young executives today. Very skilled with images. Very interested in manipulating that reality. A fascinating trend."
"I don't think she's competent to run this division."
"And what if she is not?" Dorfman snapped. "What difference does it make to you? If she's incompetent, Garvin will eventually acknowledge it and replace her. But by then, you will be long gone. Because you will lose this game with her, Thomas. She is better at politics than you. She always was."
Sanders nodded. "She's ruthless."
"Ruthless, schmoothless. She is skilled. She has an instinct. You lack it. You will lose everything if you persist this way. And you will deserve the fate that befalls you because you have behaved like a fool."
Sanders was silent. "What do you recommend I do?"
"Ali. So now you want advice?"
"Yes."
"Really?" He smiled. "I doubt it."
"Yes, Max. I do."
"All right. Here is my advice. Go back, apologize to Meredith, apologize to Garvin, and resume your job."
"I can't."
"Then you don't want advice."
"I can't do that, Max."
"Too much pride?"
"No, but-"
"You are infatuated with the anger. How dare this woman act this way. She has broken the law, she must be brought to justice. She is dangerous, she must be stopped. You are filled with delicious, righteous indignation. True?"
"Oh, hell, Max. I just can't do it, that's all."