The Virtue of Seclusion

You've heard it all: Manage by wandering around. Get out of your office and talk to people. Don't let layers of management filter information. Be collegial.

Here's another one: Hide.

For those of us who dream of taking to the hills, this is a relatively easy task, but most grapple with Wordsworth's sense that "The world is too much with us." We are hammered daily with books and articles labeled "Must read" and newscasts of events that are irrelevant and mind-numbing. [I anxiously await an interview with Anna Nicole Smith's elementary school teacher.]

Keep up with all of it and you become dumber.

Sure, we need to engage and be well-informed, but the goal of doing so is to make ourselves more, not less, effective. If your ears could hear all that is said in the world, you'd go mad. Some periodic seclusion permits you to be selective.

Harry Truman told the White House staff that they could contact him at night if the matter was important but "Heaven help you if it isn't."

Charles deGaulle used to go off to his country home on weekends. The house lacked a telephone but a phone was available at the guard house near the main road. His associates had to decide if the subject was important enough to have the president of France walk out to the phone.

Mahatma Gandhi set aside an afternoon when he wouldn't speak. Aides could speak to him but he would just write notes in response. This subtle removal from the normal flow discouraged unnecessary interruptions, reduced stress, and gave him time to think.

I suspect that many executives and managers are reluctant to adopt such techniques because they fear they'll be tagged as strange. That's why the highest level of management needs to encourage taking time to gain perspective and discourage mindless scurrying.