Truth somewhere in between All or Nothing

The All or Nothing formula is working overtime. It’s that black or white, good or bad, saved or doomed point of view that filters out all the interesting, textured contradictions and character-defining moments in life and makes dullards of us all.

The All or Nothing formula renders entire food groups off limits, says the only thing rotten at the Super Bowl is the entertainment, believes everything is a conspiracy, believes nothing is a conspiracy, demonizes current presidents, canonizes dead presidents and looks for the happy Hollywood ending to everything.

The All or Nothing formula operates on the certainty that there’s one culprit out there to blame for everything and if we can just find that culprit, the one quick fix is sure to follow. This is a splendid marketing tool.

Remember when fat was the culprit that was making everyone fat? Everything from cookies to chicken nuggets was relabeled as a no fat/low fat item. Truckloads of low-fat Snackwell cookies were eaten; truckloads of pounds were gained.

Wrong culprit. Turns out, it wasn’t dietary fats (or truckload buffets or a whole constellation of individualized contributing factors) that was the problem. It was carbohydrates! Truckloads of low-carb Snackwells are now being shipped.

If I were to bet on the one sure thing in all of this, I’d say it would be that Snackwells will sell some more cookies.

Finding the one sure thing is the driving force behind the All or Nothing formula.

The one sure thing starts out as the grand solution: the diet, the soul mate, the political leader. When those solutions go awry, the one true search is on for the person, the committee, the food group to blame. Because as All or Nothing knows, there is certainly no personal culpability involved.

Trouble is, nobody else really seems to want to take the blame, (also known as the responsibility), either. From the absurdity of televised “wardrobe malfunctions,” to the blatant greediness of Enron’s executives, to the disgrace of Abu Ghraib, it’s hard to find people who’ll step straight up to the plate and admit their knowledge of something, much less their involvement.

“I didn’t know.”

“Nobody told me.”

“It’s not my fault.”

These may be acceptable explanations for Anna Nicole Smith’s unfortunate fashion choices but they’re not an option—or shouldn’t be—for grownups in leadership positions. Unfortunately, in our McCulture, grownups are an endangered species. And our desire to make saints out of mortal leaders robs us of the opportunity to learn from the true grit of their lives—and to incorporate leadership into our own. After all, if a saint falters, what chance do we have of staying the course?

And with the chances so slim, and the road so slippery, why even try?

None of the praises heaped upon the recently departed Ronald Reagan spoke so eloquently of the man’s legacy as the reconciliation of his own family. These were people once split apart by major philosophical and political differences, gaping generation gaps and all the grievances, real and imagined, that can come between parents and children.

And somehow, they found a way past or through all of that. You didn’t have to be a fan of the former president’s administration to be heartened by what the man himself inspired in his wife and children: Forgiveness, compassion, courage and devotion. None of these qualities can genuinely be fostered unless All or Nothing is replaced with something a little more profound and a lot more empathetic.

The ability to really understand another person’s frame of reference and to work from opposing ends to a peaceful middle ground is not easily acquired; the desire to do so is even more rare. Part of the resistance might come from the need to be right, which always makes us feel a lot bigger and safer than the possibility of being wrong. Part of it is laziness and the desire not to have to think too hard or too long about anything. And part of it might come from our wish for the neatly wrapped, perfectly simple and easily resolved Hollywood finish.

“I didn’t like the ending. Things didn’t turn out very happy.”

A friend of mine recently said this about the movie, ‘21 Grams.’ And he was right. The movie, which was difficult to watch and impossible to turn away from, didn’t end happily. It ended like real life. Lessons, some of them brutal, were learned at great cost. And though not everyone was spared, life tenaciously endured. It was far from the formulaic Hollywood movie we’ve come to expect and, yes, demand.

But here’s the thing that All or Nothing fails to recognize: Life actually isn’t a Hollywood movie, leaders aren’t celebrities and formulaic solutions to complex problems would be better left to film directors who can afford the All or Nothing Hollywood fantasy. The cost to the rest of us is just too high.