Oda Nobunaga berates his followers in typical style |
As I mentioned in a previous post, the
Sengoku busho – generals, daimyo, and battle commanders of various stripes –
are well-known and popular figures from history, and the lessons their lives
and actions contain are sometimes taken as models in the self-help/business
field. Sometimes, this is done quite seriously, and sometimes in a more
light-hearted way.
Typical of the latter is this article I came
across in a women’s magazine, which presents an upbeat look at management using
some of these famous figures as examples.
It’s no surprise to find that it treats
them a little cavalierly, and it was obviously more concerned with teaching
business skills than historical accuracy. Nevertheless, it makes for quite an
interesting read, and I spent a good few hours of my New Year holiday
translating it. The accompanying illustrations are from the original article,
and are good examples of typical (and easily recognizable) depictions of the
generals in question.
Below is a summary to give a flavor of the
analysis that was presented, so read on, and find out why a good leader
delegates power, rather than keeping it all to him/her self…
Takeda Shingen "Men are
your castles, men are your walls. Friendship is your ally, enmity your
foe."
Shingen
excelled in ‘people management’, utilizing a pyramid management model. This
allowed control of a wide-ranging territory. With Shingen at the top, his
immediate subordinates, in turn delegated responsibility to those familiar with
each particular area, who were trusted to work out solutions individually.
Giving responsibility encouraged positive action ‘on the ground’.
The
system was reinforced by meetings to keep everyone informed of developments.
Even
those who had proved themselves on the battlefield were observed carefully when
placed in a position of responsibility. The skills required on the battlefield
and those needed for organizing people were not the same, And Shingen was aware
of the possibility of resentment resulting from placing those with no
familiarity of a situation in charge of those who were familiar with it.
Shingen
would personally watch over his subordinates development until he judged they
were ready.
Shingen
tended not to place blame or enforce his own solutions on problems. There is an
interesting anecdote in connection with his flood control project. In one
fiercely flowing stream, the water crashed and swirled around one large rock.
Shingen mused aloud, “I wonder who that reminds me of…?” The rough warriors accompanying
him were surprised but were forced to look at their own behaviour. In this way,
he was able to encourage self-reflection among his subordinates.
Uesugi Kenshin “Fate is in the heavens. This is a holy
war! The time to advance is now.”
His
great rival, Uesugi Kenshin, was very different, and suffered from an inability
to share ideas. For Kenshin, the timing
in battle was a divine revelation from Bishamonten. Secluding himself in a
temple, he would wait for inspiration to strike. He would give the order to
advance suddenly, and then would gallop through his troops, arbitrarily
dividing them into groups. Although this was in accord with his plan, it
remained unclear to his subordinates. (Shades of Sun Tzu here).
Kenshin
also failed to establish clear aims. Having been appointed to the role of
controlling the region by the bakufu, and being charged with punishing those
who disturbed the peace, he repeatedly stated that his campaigns were not aimed
at the acquisition of territory. To his followers, who made their careers by
taking enemy lands by force, there seemed no clear motivation for his wars –
and morale clearly suffered.
Kuroda Jyosui (Kanbei) “Was that all you could do?”
Kuroda
Jyosui was able, but cold towards his subordinates, failing to recognize their
achievements. There is a story that after the battle of Sekigahara, his son was
praised personally by Tokugawa Ieyasu for his deed on the battlefield. When he
told his father of this sometime later, Jyosui snapped, “You should have struck
him down with your empty left hand.” (I looked further into this and found that his son said
that Lord Ieyasu had taken his right hand and praised him. Jyosui replied “What
was your left hand doing then?” with the implication being that he should have
taken the chance to cut him down – Jyosui thought that he, rather than Ieyasu,
should have been Hideyoshi’s successor, but it was not to be.)
Oda Nobunaga “If the bird won’t sing, kill it!”
(Nobunaga is usually given good press,
despite some reservations about his manner, but this article doesn’t find much
to emulate in his management techniques, commenting on his unwillingness to
delegate, and the way he ridiculed his employees. And, of course, we know what
happened to him!)
Although this was not a current magazine,
it seems that something has been in the air in the past decade.
Lest you think this is an isolated example,
how about this, from the website of the Japan Management Association:
During the Warring States
period, some 400 years ago, each feudal lord had his
own distinctive banner.
Shingen Takeda's furinkazan and the bi of Kenshin Uesugi,
who held power
around my hometown, are still famous today. These banners raised
morale during
battle, helped to distinguish friend from foe, and provided rallying
points as
tens of thousands clashed in confusion on the field. Though banner
designs
varied from stylized kanji characters to flashy colors combinations, it
can be
said that each represented the enthusiasm and aspirations of the lord and
samurai that rallied round.
Etsuhiko Shoyama
President and
Chief Executive Officer, Hitachi, Ltd.
Director,
Japan Management Association
And then there’s this – an NTT campaign
from late 2012, where even Sen no Rikyu gets to make an appearance.
But I digress – we have moved on from
lessons learned to pure advertising. Nevertheless, it points towards the continuing
popularity, and the instant recognizability, of these figures in mainstream
Japanese culture. If anyone has any more examples, I would be interested in
seeing them.