A novel way to gain wisdom at work

I’m not a fan of writers who use novels more to present ideas than to focus on spinning a compelling narrative.

So, I’ve often been off the bandwagon when a book of fiction becomes hugely popular when it’s more a vehicle for surfacing a concept than a telling of a story. One example of me being outside the majority-opinion tent on a book, was in my take of James Redfield’s The Celestine Prophesy. The ‘adventure story’ has sold millions of copies and started a spin-off franchise for Redfield about his spiritual insights. Yet, for me, I found the story that framed his message so subordinate to his thesis that I couldn’t embrace the writing effort. That’s notwithstanding so many other readers doing just that. With zeal.

However, I have often found a great author-idea embedded in a rich novel and come to ponder such notions at length. One writer who does so is award-winning Canadian Louise Penny. (For the record, I’m also a sucker for mysteries and this is Penny’s genre.) In particular, Penny sows one idea – explicitly – in many of her books that feature the protagonist detective Armand Gamache. If you read one of her Gamache books – and, I recommend you do – expect there to be a passage where the brilliant fictional crime-solver and mentor to many sleuthing protegees imparts some advice on obtaining wisdom. Invariably, at some point, Gamache will state or re-state or be quoted as stating this counsel.

From her novel Still Life, here is this Penny-via-Gamache advice:

“There are four things that lead to wisdom. You ready for them?'

She nodded, wondering when the police work would begin.

"They are four sentences we learn to say, and mean." Gamache held up his hand as a fist and raised a finger with each point. "I don't know. I need help. I'm sorry. I was wrong.”

For me, this Penny seed hit good dirt. Encountering it as a motif in her novels has provided sun, water and fertilizer for the idea.

I know there are many leaders who would be reluctant to utter any of those statements – let alone all four of them and to ‘mean’ them. Doing so demonstrates being a work-in-progress and many people are insecure about doing just that though it’s the case with all of us.

But, Penny has moved me to ponder the merit of this concept and to try it. While I’m unsure I’m appreciably wiser for having expressed and meant these statements, in a host of contexts, I’m confident it has helped me learn things, save time and be regarded as a more open person to work and live with.

Penny’s personal story likely speaks to why she employs Gamache to tell her readers to be more open to gathering wisdom in this manner – one that obliges people to admit their limits and imperfections. Penny is open to sharing that along the way to becoming a best-selling novelist, she needed to confront and productively cope with mental health issues that included an extended experience with alcoholism.

So, she lives the value of growing through being open about weaknesses and fallibilities.

The former CBC journalist is also a beautiful writer and a terrific story-teller. This small sermon-nugget about wisdom can be mined in her Gamache books but the whole of her novels is about page-turning plots, tight dialogue and well-developed characters.

I recently read an article by a communications professional urging peers to avoid saying ‘sorry’ and other phrases in work emails. I came across it on LinkedIn. It was a provocative piece with good take-aways for me. That said, I also came away wondering if the author needed to consider whether there’s a place for expressing “I’m sorry,” in workplace communications.

I think that’s the case.

In part, I have to thank a Penny for my thoughts…or perhaps her creation: Armand Gamache.

Phil Andrews is a Senior Communications Consultant with the Ontario Ministry of Agriculture, Food and Rural Affairs. He worked in the daily newspaper industry for more than 20 years. He can be reached at [email protected]