The Fine Art of Herding Cats
I once had an opportunity to join a team of mostly well-intended folks, working on – presumably with the eventual goal of solving – a routine but time-consuming real estate problem. It was not complicated, but it was arcane in the sense that it involved two large companies, having large-company rules, and a County Building department, fully populated with individuals ready to play out their ever-present power and ego issues, at the expense of unsuspecting homeowners. The other members of the team were;
(a) an attorney, who in stereotypical fashion, never saw a promissory note, easement, covenant, contract, or agreement of any kind that didn’t need to be redone, of course requiring billable hours;
(b) a civil engineer[i]… who I had declined to hire on another project, some years earlier., who had a unique ability to see every hint of difficulty as a problem requiring a complicated solution[ii]… a lift pump control question, which ancient Romans had solved 2000 years ago.;
(c) a licensed real estate agent who had been appointed by the homeowner as both the listing agent and project coordinator, an obvious conflict of interest;
(d) a homeowner who had not even the slightest clue about what the others were doing, or should be doing.
An additional complication was that my friend, once a neighbor and all-around good guy, happened to be the ex-husband of the homeowner. He was coming to her aid at a time when she needed it most, finding himself in the position of “Chief Cat Herder” and I would have become his partner or assistant.
Reluctantly, after much agonizing, I chose to participate for a time, but I quickly dropped out of the herd. I had just spent a half-century working for large companies where “helpful” individuals turn minor issues into big problems overnight. I also had far more experience than I ever wanted at the whims of government bureaucrats, having proven to myself to not be a good herder of cats. For me, backing out was a matter of self-preservation – fearing that I would lose my composure and do something that would put me in prison for the rest of my years.