Four short posts: Know Thyself, Biden's Pardon, The Culture Code, Donald Trump and the Culture Code.

To m readers: Below are some short blog posts I first posted to my LinkedIn page. -- Enjoy!

 Know Thyself: Lessons from Bob Chapek's Tenure as Disney CEO

Leadership discussions often ignore one essential precondition for success: the age-old adage “know thyself.” Bob Chapek’s failure as CEO at Disney, appointed in 2020 and fired in 2022, shows that a lack of self-knowledge can have costly consequences in the C-suite, where competing interests, subtle power plays, and indirect signals can make or break a career. As one Disney executive described the C-suite, it is a snake pit and no place for the faint-hearted.

In 2005, Bob Iger succeeded Michael Eisner as Disney’s CEO. Over 15 years, he acquired Pixar, Marvel, Lucasfilm studios, and 21st Century Fox. Disney's stock price grew 11.3% per year for 15 years, five times from the starting price of $24 per share. In 2020, wrestling with retirement and ambivalent about losing his role at Disney, he chose Bob Chapek as his apparent successor, though under conditions that constrained Chapek’s authority and freedom of maneuver.

Take, for instance, the moment in 2019 when Iger first broached the idea of stepping back as CEO. Though he would formally pass the title to Chapek, Iger had no intention of relinquishing his control. Iger proposed that the board appoint him as executive chair and Chapek CEO. Chapek would report to him and, uncommonly, would not be a board member even though he was CEO. The board hesitated but then agreed. Iger chose to remain in the executive suite of offices and even retained his prestigious office space, an unconventional setup highlighting Chapek’s compromised authority.

The writing was on the wall for Chapek at this arrangement’s start. When CNBC interviewed the two executives in February 2020, Chapek said he had “huge shoes to fill and hailed Iger’s “magic.” But as the New York Times reports, “Mr. Iger’s usually relaxed demeanor stiffened. His gaze shifted down, away from Mr. Chapek, and he looked increasingly uncomfortable. He crossed his arms. Mr. Chapek was intimately familiar with Mr. Iger’s body language and expressions. As the New York Times reports, in its long-form essay on Bob Chapek, the latter thought, “This is not good.”

And indeed, it wasn’t.  When the board appointed Chapek at Iger’s insistence, an independent board member flew to Chapek’s home to confirm his appointment. But she did not invite him to meet the board to explore this vision for the company, particularly when streaming was upending entertainment. It was as if Iger had appointed Chapek and not the board. Indeed, the board member counseled Chapek, “Give him a wide berth on creative matters. Don’t step on his toes.” But, of course, the beating heart of Disney is its creative spirit. 

What was going on here? One hypothesis is Chapek swallowed his pride to advance. It was the price he was willing to pay. It was a rational choice. I don’t think this explanation works. The Times piece provides several other examples in which Chapek was sidelined and even humiliated; he was called “boring Bob,” was snubbed at a party in Iger’s house, and excluded from the decision to close Disneyland because of COVID. He was the only Disney executive to call Iger “boss,’ colleagues thought he was obsequious, and his wife told him that” he was little more than Mr. Iger’s “lap dog.” Chapek told his friend that Iger’s treatment of him was “killing me.” It was as if he had put a sign on his back that said, “Hit me.”

He even shot himself in the foot. Consider the following vignette. On a flight to Disney’s annual shareholder meeting, Chapek sat at the front of the plane with Iger and other Disney executives to review some materials in preparation for the meeting. Iger pulled out his iPad to share recent photos of dinners and yachts, regaling the group with personal anecdotes. Chapek, visibly flustered, attempted to steer the conversation back to the agenda, only to be sidelined by Iger’s social storytelling. Chapek eventually retreated to the back of the plane, leaving Iger in command of the front cabin.

What was going on here?  Consider the following alternative hypothesis. Chapek’s choices were not rational. Instead, Chapek was the victim of his submissive streak, perhaps even a masochistic one.

Indulge me with the following method of inference. Let’s consider the vignette on the airplane again. If I identify with Chapek’s “going to the back” of the plane, if I imagine I am him, just for a moment, I am led to the following fantasy: “I am leaving this group of powerful executives at the front of the plane and retreating to the back, so that people will miss me and come back to get me. This will prove that I am loved even though I am ineffective.”

Is this a speculation? Indeed, you might think it outrageous to use my fantasy of Chapek to discern him.  I don’t even know him! But let me propose that introspection is a method for understanding others as long we empathize with them rather than judge them. And consider the following as support for my speculation. Iger did go to the back of the plane and tried to get Chapek to return, and Chapek said no! As the Times reports, when this happened, “Mr. Iger suddenly felt as if he were at the wedding altar with the bride walking down the aisle. He realized he’d made a terrible mistake. But it was too late.” My interpretation: Iger felt no compunction in dominating Chapek he enjoyed it. But he was shocked by the latter’s withdrawal. At that moment, he lost all respect for him. And Chapek, acting out of awareness, experienced himself as “rejecting” Iger, imagining in this way that he could control him, even though Iger experienced him as passive and foolish. That is the unconscious at work.

There is no doubt that Chapek was an effective operations executive. He rose from the VHS tape division to run the Disney parks and resorts effectively. If Chapek took the MBTI, he might score ISTJ. But he lacked the extraversion, charisma, and identification with creative people to be a Disney CEO. Indeed, the creative people at Pixar and in the studios chafed under his leadership and believed he was undermining their autonomy and standing. They advocated for his firing. 

My hypothesis:  Chapek is the kind of person who believes that working very hard and even suffering while doing so is the way to gain approval and love. This is no way to survive in the snake pit of the C-suite.

Chapek’s reported experience raises interesting questions about the nature of insight and self-understanding. He saw from the very beginning that Iger was undermining him. He knew that the situation was “killing” him. But he was in his situation’s grip because it evoked trends in his character that reinforced submissiveness and even masochism. These trends offered him secondary gains even if they caused suffering. I hypothesize that he did not have this dimension of self-knowledge; he could observe himself but not understand himself. You need both to succeed.

Biden’s Pardon: The Tension Between Person and Role

Many columnists have analyzed the political ramifications of President Biden’s decision to pardon his son, Hunter. This action bolsters former President Trump’s narrative that the Biden family has engaged in criminal behavior and that Biden has weaponized the Department of Justice to target Trump. Yes, Biden is a father. But he still represents the Democratic Party, even as he approaches the end of his political career. His pardon weakens the party at a moment when its leaders need strength to oppose and resist Trump. As Bret Stephens observed in The New York Times, “It fuels corrosive cynicism.”

This controversy also underscores the age-old tension between “person and role.” Leadership scholars and consultants often emphasize the importance of leaders bringing their whole selves to their roles. Leaders, they argue, are most effective when they integrate their passions and hopes into the work of inspiring others. Attending to their feelings and intuition can also provide vital guidance, particularly in turbulent times.

Yet Biden’s pardon seems to illustrate the opposite dynamic. Leaders sometimes must suppress aspects of their personhood to meet the demands of their roles. Consider Jean Riboud, the former and extraordinarily successful CEO of Schlumberger, the oil services company. Riboud demonstrated an ability to make difficult, impersonal decisions in the organization's service. For example, adhering to company policy, he asked his closest confidant of 40 years, Claude Baks, to retire at the mandatory age—a decision that deeply embittered Baks, who hoped to remain. Similarly, Riboud would reassign high-potential leaders to new roles without warning, believing this approach avoided complacency.

Yet he was far from unfeeling. Riboud was a passionate supporter of the arts, playing a key role in sustaining the Cinémathèque Française, an international film archive. His leadership demonstrated that becoming a leader often requires a delicate balance between connection and detachment—an ability to “live apart and sometimes act indifferently in the service of one’s role.

Biden is in his twilight years. It makes sense that he privileged his fatherhood over his presidency, even at the risk of spoiling his legacy. His decision highlights the enduring tension between person and role—a tension every leader must navigate.

The culture code 

Some of you may be familiar with the work of Clotaire Rapaille. If you have not read "The Culture Code" or "The Global Code," I highly recommend them. Rapaille posits that codes describe people’s unconscious associations to a product or service. So, for example, in France, where seduction is valued, L’Oréal could market its products to highlight how they increased women’s sexual allure. But in the U.S., where seduction is seen as manipulative, It highlighted how its products helped a woman feel confident and healthy “because you’re worth it.” He is famous for assisting Chrysler in discovering the code for its Jeep, which was “horse.” This led to design choices, such as larger headlights to look like the horse’s eyes and a frame that allowed drivers to feel the wind on their faces. One culture code that I love is the code for checking your email – “bodily functions! “

You can see how focus groups would fail to give you these insights. Rapaille’s method, which he keeps as a trade secret, appears to induce a kind of psychological regression. For example, he has people lie down, close their eyes, and listen to music. At another point, he asks them to tell stories starting with the sentence, “once upon a time,” which triggers the experience of being a child or childlike. The purpose is to uncover and recover the unconscious imprint that connects a product to a person’s psyche.

You will recognize the hidden “Freud” in this way of thinking. Indeed, in another work of his that I will write about, Rapaille argues that culture expresses in a refined way what he calls our “reptilian” mind, which overlaps with Freud’s Id. Both ideas are grounded in the idea that we are primarily bodies and that culture refines or sublimates body impulses. So, for example, we drink water when we are thirsty. But we drink wine to indulge in the cultural practices surrounding its consumption, e.g. evaluating its bouquet or showing off our expertise. So, we use the bodily impulse, quenching a thirst, to connect ourselves emotionally to other people and intellectually to compelling ideas. 

Freud famously said, “The ego is first and foremost a body ego.” Imagine if you started to think of all products and services, no matter how abstract or technical, as simply translations or transformations of our bodily experience! Rapaille does.

Donald Trump and the Culture Code.

The Wall Street Journal reports that Tim Cook, the CEO of Apple, mastered the art of influencing Donald Trump. “Instead of sending government relations executives or lobbyists, Cook would appeal to Trump directly, through phone calls and meals.” Cook understood Trump’s executive functioning through a “culture code” or metaphor: the family business.

Personal relationships carry more weight than formal roles in a family business."  The patriarch often operates without institutional restraints. Boards of directors, for example, serve as advisors rather than enforcers. Loyalty, grudges, secrets, favors, promises, and sacrifices influence decisions. Trump grew up immersed in this environment, shaped by his father’s real estate business, and built his enterprise where his children held commanding roles. This background likely serves as his unconscious map for navigating the executive role.

The family business culture code overlaps with another metaphor: the royal court. In such a setting, rules are weak, and proximity to the patriarch is the key to influence. The court is rife with intrigue, creating an atmosphere of instability. Courtiers, unsure of whom to trust, vie for favor.

Both the family business and the royal court operate within external constraints. A company must make money to survive, and a monarch risks deposition if he loses a war. Similarly, Trump’s presidency posed a central question: Would his personalism—his self-concept as a family business owner—and the court intrigues he fosters clash with or adapt to the institutional constraints of the presidency? Would Trump eviscerate institutions, as he did the Republican Party, or would those institutions hem him in? I bet for "hemming in."

The concept of the “culture code” originates with Clotaire Rapaille, who describes it as a master metaphor, unconsciously held, that evokes strong feelings and shapes behavior. Consider the role of “secrets,” a hallmark of family businesses and royal courts. As children, we encounter the mystery of parental secrets—what they do behind the bedroom door, for instance. These early experiences of secrecy evoke visceral associations that linger into adulthood. A culture code is an outcropping of the “cultural unconscious”—a reservoir of archetypes and ingrained patterns that shape our actions without our awareness.

Dear reader, you may find my “free associations” speculative. However, take seriously the broader idea of the cultural unconscious and its many codes. Understanding them can help you “decode” organizational settings and predict their evolution.

Why NIke stumbled

The Wall Street Journal reported recently that Nike’s digital strategy to sell more sneakers online rather than in stores has been unsuccessful. “Since the pandemic, Nike has lost ground in its critical running category while it focused on pumping out old hits and preparing for an e-commerce revolution that never came.” During Covid, Nike cut its ties to long-time retail partners such as DSW and Urban Outfitters but is now asking them to renew their business partnerships. 

The history in brief: During COVID-19, Nike’s digital commerce accounted for 30% of its sales revenue. The CEO, Joh Donahoe, once the successful CEO of eBay, “redoubled the company’s bet that it could make more money by selling products directly to consumers through its stores and digital channels.” He said he believed digital sales would reach 50% of the business, and Nike should transform faster to define the future marketplace. It was time to act. By late 2020 it had dropped about 1/3 of its sales partners. The market was not kind. Instead of boosting revenue, the strategy led to stalled sales and a 24% decline in the company’s share price. 

Donahoe’s strategy is textbook economics. Why not cut out the middleman, build a direct relationship with the customers, and garner all the data and insights you can from their online purchasing behavior? Sensible? Maybe not. After all, this concept is based on an underlying assumption that the in-store shopping experience is burdensome, entailing high transaction costs that customers will willingly forgo. After all, doesn’t convenience always win? But stating it this baldly raises a competing idea. There are times when customers value their shopping experiences greatly. They can be journeys filled with surprises while allowing shoppers to test who they are in playful ways. They can ask without taking undue risks, “who am I really?” Customers will pay for this. experience. 

 Now, I am not a sneaker shopper, but I love books. Yes, I buy Kindle books. But going to a bookstore is entirely different. When I roam the shelves, I am awe-struck by the abundance of possibilities and the universe of knowledge it represents. I will approach the Math shelves with anticipation, knowing that I could never read many books on the shelf. But when I take one the shelf, read its table of contents, and rifle its pages, I identify with the genius who wrote it and fantasize that, with sufficient work, I could understand it. It transports me. I always buy something, knowing I have no more room for one more book in my study.

I can imagine that people have just this experience when they shop for sneakers, especially when famous athletes endorse them. Moreover, I can’t help but imagine that some younger men who experience the sneaker as a symbol enjoy going to a store together to demonstrate to each other their mastery of the “genre,” their understanding of sneaker “history,” and which brands dominated the market when. In this instance, the shopping experience is social, in the same way that women have always enjoyed shopping for clothes together. 

Nike has an insights and data analytics team, which helps them understand the customer’s psychology. But the title “analytics” is worrisome. The only way to understand the arc of the customer shopping journey is to hang out with them as an anthropologist would. You need research in the field to understand the customers’ feelings. This data is qualitative, not quantitative. Indeed, using the Insight Team’s data, Nike executives overestimated the demand for its “retro franchises” or older sneaker brands. The data was off. I grant you, dear reader, that what I have written is speculative. But it’s supported by two other features of Nike’s recent history, seemingly unrelated, but at second glance connected. Hear me out on this. 

 In the wake of George Floyd’s killing, Donahoe led a commendable and necessary effort to increase the number of black and minority executives in Nike’s ranks. However, DEI, while necessary, can lead executives to focus too inwardly. Executives start seeing the company itself, rather than its business, as an object to be perfected. When this happens, DEI programs lose their pragmatic edge and become moral undertakings. As Donahoe wrote to employees soon after George Floyd’s murder, “Nike needs to be better than society as a whole. Our aspiration is to be a leader.” When the organization is moralized in this way, executives imagine that their work is perfecting the company rather than anticipating customers’ desires. They project onto DEI the impulse to perfect themselves. And unfortunately, this sets up DEI to fail. My hypothesis: This inward turn dulled executives’ passion for understanding and satisfying their customers, leading them to privilege acquiring data rather than understanding experience.

A leader’s character influences the organization’s important decisions. My second argument is that Donahoe’s self-concept contributed to this inward turn. Consider the following. He has disciplined health practices. He reports, “I wake up at 5:45 every weekday morning. The first thing I drink 33 ounces of water and two cups of coffee, and then I stretch using the Hyperice Hypervolt [a massage recovery device]. I meditate for 10 minutes and then I have a Nike personal trainer—his name’s JC Cook. I work out from 7 to 8, four mornings a week with him. On sleep, “I target getting seven-plus hours a night. Sometimes that’s unrealistic, so I target getting 70 hours every 10 days.” He also gives his mind a “workout,” as he terms it, by engaging in mindfulness exercises focused on “appreciating the good things in life.” He has a spiritual advisor he met at a Buddhist retreat the year he stepped down from a seven-year run as the head of E-Bay. He has also, uncommonly, “established his board of personal directors—trusted friends he turns to for advice.” 

There are two ways to interpret these facts. First, following our common sense, we could say that Donahoe is simply protecting his well-being. Perhaps his seven-year run at E-Bay was exhausting. He is 64. He understands is aging makes him more vulnerable. As he notes, “Earlier in my career, I told myself I don’t really need that much sleep. And the reality is sleep’s really important.” 

Alternatively, and this is the explanation I favor, Donahoe is building a program of self-improvement and fortification, perhaps because he is 64, and this leads him to be self-absorbed. Just as Nike, the company, became the object of its own preoccupation, Donahoe has turned himself into a project. One indirect support for this hypothesis is that Donahoe emphasizes his role as a “servant leader.” As he reports, “I’m an advocate of servant leadership. When I understand that everything I’m doing is in service to a purpose, in service to others….My leadership role models have always been head coaches—you think about Phil Jackson, Coach K [Mike Krzyzewski], John Thompson, Tara [VanDerveer], who just won the NCAA [women’s basketball] championship—they’re leaders that lead from almost behind, serving their players, serving their programs, serving a broader cause.” 

 As Scott Mautz argues, servant leadership creates risks. Among them, the leader does not establish her executive presence, nor use the chain of command as a lever to achieve results, identify a goal she believes in, and persuade others to follow her. After all, while coaches are not players, executives are. Donahoe, however, has been a successful executive. As CEO of eBay, he doubled the e-commerce platform’s revenue during a seven-year stint that ended in 2015. My psychodynamic hypothesis: he understands subliminally that his focus on his well-being is potentially too self-absorbing. He needs to balance the attention he gives himself with an equally vigorous focus on what his subordinates need. Without this, he would feel guilty about neglecting them. But this has three untoward results. First, he moralizes his own leadership. Second, he doesn’t risk taking a stand on how to create value. Third, he treats his subordinates as his customers, and his customers as his subordinates; the first group to be elevated, the second to be downgraded. He turns inward. It is indisputable that Nike misunderstood its customers. The questions are what they failed to understand and why. My three hypotheses; dear reader: They did not understand shopping as a journey. Instead, they imagined the customer as a transaction, a data point. Second, Donahoe and the top executives turned inward. They projected onto DEI the fantasy that Nike could be a perfect organization. Third, Donahoe has a project to improve himself. He took the servant leadership role to compensate for this self-absorption, which further distanced him from customers, reinforcing the inward turn.

 For the reader interested in the dynamics of moralization, see my The Fall of Howell Raines and the New York Times