Mannership

Mark Goodwin

Description

Mark has an unusual history. After losing his hearing as an eighteen-month-old infant, the next six years were silent as he honed his way of watching. Wandering Africa and Asia as a teenager and being adopted by nomadic tribes opened his eyes to the cultural nuances of different lands and peoples. Mannershipis an enquiry into origins of self-destruction which is uniquely human, focusing on 3 questions:How does an individual mind become 'poisoned' by a self-destructive tendency?How is the poison hidden, and harboured, in a part of the mind which is 'out of reach' so we cannot simply 'deal' with it?How did our environment or culture develop in such a way that this 'poison' became thrust so deep into our children's minds?From the teachings of indigenous Shamans to the lessons taught by animals, Mark connects observations from his journeys to read like magical adventures while seeking an elusive source of self-destruction.

Sujets

• Philosophie et théologie
• Comparative religion
• Memoir

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 28 avril 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781803138596
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 3 Mo

Extrait

Mannership

Copyright © 2022 Mark Goodwin
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.
Matador
Unit E2 Airfield Business Park,
Harrison Road, Market Harborough,
Leicestershire. LE16 7WB
Tel: [phone]
Email: [e-mail]
Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador
Twitter: @matadorbooks
ISBN 978 1803138 596
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd
P REFACE
Around the age of just fifteen months, following a long illness, I lost my hearing. The next six years were silent for me. Other senses became somehow enhanced to compensate, particularly sight. Just as the blind are not aware how their hearing is more acute, there was nothing to indicate that my way of watching was any different from others. There was, however, an immediate effect. The absence of sound developed within me a hunger to ‘ see other connections’; looking to replace the loss with another form of attachment. Seeking links thus became one of my strongest drives.
As soon as crawling became an option to move around, I would rock the pram until it fell over to crawl out and explore. This insatiable curiosity to wander has been another giant in my life. Just as a toddler becomes surprised by unexpected discoveries, my fascination for new lands and connections grew.
The familiarity with quietness in my childhood permitted much time for reflection. During my silent years nature fascinated me. The animals in those early years were mostly very small, particularly mice and insects. Much larger animals have subsequently taught me priceless lessons. Elephants are great teachers.
Although these two giants of curiosity and keen observation have propelled my life since infancy, there is a third force which took hold of me as a late teenager. Having wandered through much of Africa and Asia between the age of seventeen and twenty-one, my attention was captivated by the way ‘intact’ people communicated. With my ‘deaf-sight’ there was no doubt which tribes were communicating on a different dimension from others. Some nomadic tribes adopted me as if they had found their long lost son, opening my eyes to another level of deliciousness and safety. Their warmth led me to explore more; the crawling simply embraced greater distances.
My university education seemed destined for an academic career, but my heart yearned for those times spent with peoples who ‘took me’ in a way my own culture had not. Academia was easily and naturally swapped, without a second thought, for beginning my career with indigenous peoples in the Gilbert and Ellice Islands. In the beauty and warmth of life among Pacific Islanders began an unconscious knowledge to help with the eventual task of this book. Perhaps the variety of lessons from different societies around the world enabled me to collect clues which were just waiting for a germination of all fitting together. Writing this book guided me to orientate the jigsaw pieces so their connections were revealed.
The subsequent global spread of my careers has been the flowering of my curiosity. But, more than that, the diversity has produced a spider’s web of connections without which the challenges of this book could not have been grasped. Looking back, some parts of my career did not seem to ‘fit’ with a path. But, in an uncanny way, they provided clues and answers that were required in my search. Everything was needed in the end.
We should start with how this exploration began. The book has a life of his own, the course quite unexpected. It wasn’t my plan to search for a source of self-destruction. Nothing was further from my mind. Instead, the book took me there, initially unawares.
Meredith Belbin is renowned for his research at Henley Business School on ‘team roles’. Over a million people have used his ‘instrument’ to determine their most effective role in a team. This research with ‘management teams – why they succeed or fail’ was also well known to my daughter Alika. While she had studied Belbin’s work in her psychology degrees, it was one of my preferred instruments in consulting work for organisations. We both admired the power and simplicity of the Belbin model. An idea took root that we should explore this subject more. Having discovered that the Belbin office was scarcely three miles from my parents’ house at Madingley, near Cambridge, we decided to stop by.
As we drove down the narrow gravel lane, Alika asked me: “Is Meredith Belbin still alive?” Her question took me by surprise. Not having any idea, it seemed easier to reply, “Perhaps we could find out.” Opening the front door of his office, we were struck with a joyous surprise to find him very much alive, in good spirits and with a cup of coffee in hand. That energy stayed with us and continued all day. By noontime we had visited Meredith’s garden, collected his wife Sheila and adjourned to my village pub, the Three Horse Shoes at Madingley, for lunch. The conversation never slowed as we wandered through my family garden to admire the trees. It was very easy to forget why we had come to meet Meredith in the first place, such was the richness of conversation we had that day.
Over the next few months we met regularly to continue our sprawling discussions. Meredith has a lovely conservatory on the sunny side of his garden with a sumptuous sofa and armchairs. We would sit there for hours, pausing for occasional teas, admiring the view of his so English garden whilst among piles of books in the warm sunshine or protected from a gentle rain.
Meredith is an avid reader with the advantage of Cambridge University Library on his doorstep. My travelling experience, or fieldwork, complemented his research. Quickly we decided to write a joint book on the ‘future of civilisations’. Chapters grew by themselves like creeping vines.
After some months, Meredith wrote the foreword, which began:
The ‘Garden of Eden’ was typified as idyllic in an age of innocence. Evidence from early, low density, communities does lend some support to this generally peaceful picture in primordial society. In this harmonious beginning, humans being part of the fauna belonged to the land.
A little later, he added: From this juncture human society took a new road that forked, with one path leading to an emergence of civilisation, and the other leading to plunder creating the dominance of a warrior society. Thereafter, through much of human history, it has been a struggle between these two paths with great civilisations meeting such destruction. Vicious wars have been prevalent in every part of the world, increasingly about ideology. In the twentieth century, wars intensified to become global with the machinery of war proving ever-more technically advanced. The scale of suffering became unparalleled, operating to the detriment of both winners and losers.
Since humans possess intelligence and a capacity to learn far in excess of all other species, what explanation can one offer for human society apparently operating against its self-interest? Is the span of human attention so limited that it is fixed primarily on the recent past and can learn nothing from history? How can it be that this ‘naked ape’, so seemingly harmless in its physical form, has evolved so unmistakeably into such a killer? Why is this patent human propensity for destruction blithely disregarded by academics and experts in evolutionary theory?
How did this reversal of civilized progress happen? What can we do about it? Why have these crucial questions been so conspicuously disregarded? Here I count myself very fortunate to have encountered Mark Goodwin. Taking on major responsibilities at a very early age, Mark’s activities have taken him into, remarkably, 169 countries, always sharply observing as he goes. He has had six separate careers; in diplomatic service, management consultancy, tropical farming, global manufacturing, leadership coaching, as well as experience as a group psychoanalyst. Along the way he has lived and travelled extensively with primordial and tribal societies, whilst experiencing some of their rituals.
However, the ‘joint book’ – animated by our unpredictable discussions – turned out to have a different idea in mind. The question which Meredith asked: What explanation can one offer for human society apparently operating against its self-interest? was a subject which we conspired initially to avoid; as most cultures do. There was an unexpected fork in the road one morning for our joint book. Meredith wished to continue with the future of civilisation whilst the question of human self-destruction had grabbed my attention like an octopus which would not let go. The solution was simple; two books. My journey with the octopus had begun. This unavoidable question, with the psychological depth asked of me, took a few more years to explore and digest. The wrestling was mutual; I became captivated by the subject, which is just as the octopus had wanted.
My journey with an octopus as guide contained many unexpected explorations and fresh connections. The greatest joy in writing has been the discoveries and how much they have taught me. Several chapters were begun with an idea in mind, only to discover that this idea was not only wrong but the opposite of reality. Many of my earlier thoughts and assumptions had to be abandoned. But, replacing them by something