I was at Birkbeck College during the summer, saying farewell to the fantastic Rob Briner, scourge of ill thought through management fads and staunch upholder of the critical approach as he moved to Bath University. As I walked past the lovely Russell Square park in the golden evening sunshine, I saw some people practising T'ai Chi under the trees. They moved to the beat of hand-held drums.
If I'd seen this in Central Park in New York, I would have been delighted, but not surprised. But because it was in London, I was a bit taken aback - delighted yes, but was this London? Where things of beauty and tranquillity happen as though completely normal?
Well, yes. And as a result, it made me wonder what else was happening under my nose which was unexpected and more lovely than I had assumed. So I've started to look more closely.
And saw a homeless man shuffling along the street wearing a huge red rose on an indescribably dirty coat. A smile exchanged between a youth and an ancient old lady as he allowed her on to the bus first in one of the roughest areas of London. A gurgle of delight from a toddler playing with - of all things - an empty crisp packet.
Now I don't want to go all sentimental and positive psychology on you, but it really is this sort of stuff which makes life rich and glorious. And I'll bet if you looked at your employees in the workplace, you'd find equally wonderful examples. Like the restaurant waiter in Leeds who, seeing me stagger to my table with a streaming cold, brought me - unasked - hot water, lemon and honey. Or the post officer worker who posted my glasses to me from the States when I'd left them on the counter.
Quite a lot of performance management appears to work from a deficit model - we try to fix what's wrong rather than celebrating what's right, and indeed, are so used to looking for what's wrong, we no longer see what's very, very right. Like the T'ai Chi practice under the trees on a summer's evening.
Is it time to perhaps stop expecting to see the worst and start noticing the best?
