Myths, Vision, and Values

A myth is a collective dream (Jung, 1965). Myths, operating at a mystical level, are the story behind the story (Campbell, 1988). They explain, express, legitimize, and maintain solidarity and cohesion. They communicate unconscious wishes and conflicts, mediate contradictions, and offer a narrative anchoring the present in the past (Cohen, 1969). All organizations rely on myths or sagas of varying strength and intensity (Clark, 1975). Myths can transform a place of work into a beloved, revered, hallowed institution and an all-encompassing way of life.

Myths often originate in the launching of an enterprise. The original plan for Southwest Airlines, for example, was sketched on a cocktail napkin in a San Antonio bar. It envisioned connecting three Texas cities: Dallas, Houston, and San Antonio. As legend has it, Rollin King, one of the founders, said to his counterpart Herb Kelleher, “Herb, let's start an airline.” Kelleher, who later became Southwest's CEO, replied, “Rollin, you're crazy. Let's do it!” (Freiberg and Freiberg, 1998, p. 15).

As the new airline moved ahead, it met fierce resistance from established carriers. Four years of legal wrangling kept the upstart grounded. In 1971, the Texas Supreme Court ruled in Southwest's favor, and its planes were ready to fly. A local sheriff's threat to halt flights under a court injunction prompted a terse directive from Kelleher: “You roll right over the son of a bitch and leave our tire tracks on his uniform if you have to” (Freiberg and Freiberg, 1998, p. 21). (That directive, of course, signaled resolve, not homicidal intent.) The persistence and zaniness of Southwest's mythologized beginnings shape its unique culture: “The spirit and steadfastness that enabled the airline to survive in its early years is what makes Southwest such a remarkable company today” (p. 14).

Myths undergird an organization's values. Values characterize what an organization stands for, qualities worthy of esteem or commitment. Unlike goals, values are intangible and define a unique character that helps people find meaning and feel special about what they do.

The values that count are those an organization lives, regardless of what it articulates in mission statements or formal documents. Southwest Airlines has never codified its values formally. But its Symbol of Freedom billboards and banners once expressed the company's defining purpose: extending freedom to fly to everyone, not just the elite, and doing it with an abiding sense of fun. Other organizations make values more explicit. The Edina (Minnesota) School District, following the suicide of a superintendent, involved staff, parents, and students in formally articulating values in a document: “We care. We share. We dare.” The values of the U.S. Marine Corps are condensed into a simple phrase: “Semper Fi” (short for semper fidelis—always faithful). More than a motto, it stands for the traditions, sentiments, and solidarity instilled into recruits and perpetuated by veteran Marines: “The values and assumptions that shape its members…are all the Marines have. They are the smallest of the U.S. military services, and in many ways the most interesting. Theirs is the richest culture: formalistic, insular, elitist, with a deep anchor in their own history and mythology” (Ricks, 1998, p. 19).

Vision turns an organization's core ideology, or sense of purpose, into an image of the future. It is a shared fantasy, illuminating new possibilities within the realm of myths and values. Martin Luther King's “I have a dream” speech, for example, articulated poetically a new future for race relations rooted in the ideals of America's founding fathers.

Vision is deemed vital in contemporary organizations. In Built to Last, Collins and Porras profile a number of extraordinary companies and conclude, “The essence of a visionary company comes in the translation of its core ideology and its own unique drive for progress into the very fabric of the organization” (1994, p. 201). Johnson & Johnson's commitment to the elimination of “pain and disease” and to “the doctors, nurses, hospitals, mothers, and all others who use our products” motivated the company to make the costly decision to pull Tylenol from store shelves when several tainted bottles were discovered. 3M's principle of “thou shalt not kill a new product idea” came to life when someone refused to stop working on an idea that became Scotch Tape. The same principle paved the way for Post-it® notes, a product resurrected from the failed development of an adhesive. A vision offers mental pictures linking historical legend and core precepts to future events. Shared, it imbues an organization with spirit, resolve, and élan.

Myths, values, and visions often overlap. Take eBay, which emerged as a highly visible success amid a sea of 1990s dot-com disasters. Its interplay of myth, values, and vision contributes to its success even in a tough economic environment. Pierre Omidyar, eBay's founder, envisioned a marketplace where buyers would have equal access to products and prices, and sellers would have an open outlet for goods. Laws of supply and demand would govern prices.

But Omidyar's vision incorporated another element: community. Historically, people have used market stalls and cafés to swap gossip, trade advice, and pass the time of day. Omidyar wanted to combine virtual business site and caring community. That vision led to eBay's core values of commerce and community. Embedded in these are corollary principles: “Treat other people online as you would like to be treated, and when disputes arise, give other people the benefit of the doubt.”

eBay is awash in myths and legends. Omidyar's vision is said to have taken root over dinner with his fiancée. She complained that their move from Boston to Silicon Valley severed her ties with fellow collectors of Pez dispensers. He came to her rescue by writing code and laying the foundation for a new company. Did it happen this way? Not quite. Mary Lou Song, an eBay publicist, hatched this story in an effort to get media exposure. Her rationale: “Nobody wants to hear about a 30-year-old genius who wanted to create a perfect market. They want to hear that he did it for his fiancée” (CNN Money, 2011). Her version persists because myths are truer than truth.

Airbnb, like Uber, is a young brand in the upcoming “sharing economy.” Success has come so quickly that the 2008 start-up is now valued at $30 billion and has become a verb in everyday communication: “Let's ‘Airbnb’ in Los Angeles this weekend.”

The company's rise had not been without its challenges, but one of its key successes is its search for a mission. The cofounders have succeeded in identifying the company's soul and how it interplays with employees, hosts, guests, and the outside world (Gallagher, 2016).

The quest for a unifying identity began in 2013 and was guided by key questions: Why does Airbnb exist? What's its purpose? What's its role in the world? The questions were put to founders, employees, hosts, and guests around the world. The answers would become the “rudder that guides the whole ship.”

Early on, consensus began to emerge around “belonging.” This formed the cornerstone for Airbnb's new mission: to make people around the world feel like they could “Belong Anywhere.” Airbnb would become the place where anyone could engage with people and cultures as insiders, to meet the “universal human yearning to belong.” The Company fashioned a new logo, the “Bélo,” a cute squiggly shape resembling a heart, a location pin and the “A” in Airbnb. It stands for four things: people, places, love, and Airbnb (Gallagher, 2017).

Heroes and Heroines

Organizations often rely on CEOs or other prominent leaders as exemplars. They may not be media celebrities, like Jeff Bezos or Elon Musk, or symbols of corporate greed, like Ken Lay, Bernie Ebbers, and Dennis Kozlowski. They are solid leaders who build time-tested companies and deliver results.

One is Mary Barra, the first woman to serve as CEO of General Motors. She took the helm at a challenging time for the venerable automaker, which had barely survived bankruptcy and was under heavy fire for concealing a defective ignition switch that produced 13 deaths in GM Cobalts. Barra handled that with a directness and transparency that were new to General Motors and used it as an opportunity to begin to change GM's sclerotic culture. Since becoming GM's chief in 2014, she has tripled profits and engineered a dramatic revival (Colvin, 2014; Varchaver, 2016).

Another, Costco's James Sinegal, took pride in his disdain for corporate perks. He answered his own phone and personally escorted guests to his spartan office—no executive bathroom, no walls, 20-year-old furniture. He commented: “We're low-cost operators, and it would be a little phony if we tried to pretend that we're not and had all the trappings” (Byrnes et al., 2002, p. 82).

Executives like Barra and Sinegal embrace their role as cultural heroes. They act as living logos, human icons, whose words and deeds exemplify and reinforce core values. Bernie Marcus, cofounder of Home Depot, underscores the impact of well-placed cultural heroes and heroines: “People watch the titular heads of companies, how they live their lives, and they know [if] they are being sold a bill of goods. If you are a selfish son-of-a-bitch, well that usually comes across fairly well. And it comes across no matter how many memos you send out [stating otherwise]” (Roush, 1999, p. 139).

Not all icons are at the top of organizations. Ordinary people often perform exemplary deeds. The late Joe Vallejo, custodian at a California junior high school, kept the place immaculate. He was also a liaison between the school and its community. His influence knew few limits. When emotions ran high, he attended parent conferences and often negotiated a compromise acceptable to all parties. He knew the students and checked report cards. He was not bashful about telling seasoned teachers how to tailor lessons to student interests and needs. When he retired, a patio was named in his honor. It remains today, commemorating a hero who made a difference well beyond his formal assignment.

Some heroic exploits go unrecognized because they happen out of view. Southwest Airlines annually recognizes its behind-the-scenes employees in a “Heroes of the Heart” award ceremony. The honor goes to the backstage individual or group that contributes most to Southwest's unique culture and successful performance. The year following the award, a Southwest aircraft flies with the winner's name on its fuselage. A song written for the occasion expresses the value Southwest places on its heroes and heroines whose important work is often hidden:

Heroes come in every shape and size;

Adding something very special to others in their lives

No one gives you medals and the world won't know your name

But in Southwest's eyes you're heroes just the same.

The Twin Towers tragedy reminded Americans of the vital role heroism plays in the human spirit. New York City police officers and firefighters touched people's hearts by risking their lives to save others. Many perished as a result. Their sacrifices reaffirmed Americans' spirit and resolve in enduring one of the nation's most costly tragedies. Every day, less dramatic acts of courage come to light as people go out of their way to help customers or serve communities. NBC's Nightly News airs a recurring segment recognizing people who “have made a difference.” In 2007, Colin Powell proposed an “Above the Call” citizen award, recognition on par with the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Exploits of heroes and heroines are lodged in our psyches. We call on their examples in times of uncertainty and stress. American POWs in North Vietnamese prisons drew upon stories of the courage of Captain Lance Sijan, Admiral James Stockdale, and Colonel Bud Day, who refused to capitulate to Viet Cong captors. “[Their examples] when passed along the clandestine prison communications network…helped support the resolve that eventually defeated the enemy's efforts” (McConnell, 2004, p. 249). During the Bosnian conflict, the ordeal of Scott O'Grady, a U.S. Air Force fighter pilot, made headlines. To survive after being shot down, O'Grady drew on the example of Sijan: “His strong will to survive and be free was an inspiration to every pilot I knew” (O'Grady, 1998, p. 83). Although drawn from nightmares of warfare, these examples demonstrate how human models influence our decisions and actions. We carry lessons of teachers, parents, and others with us. Their exploits, animated through stories, serve as guides to choices we make in our personal lives and at work.

Stories and Fairy Tales

It is said that God made people because he loves stories. “Human life is so bound up in stories that we are desensitized to their weird and witchy power” (Gottschall, 2012, p. 1). Stories, like folk or fairy tales, offer more than entertainment or moral instruction for small children. They grant comfort, reassurance, direction, and hope to people of all ages. They externalize inner conflicts and tensions (Bettelheim, 1977). We tend to dismiss stories as the last resort of people without substance. As an older retiree remarked, “Why, I have a perfect memory. I even remember things that never happened.” We denigrate professors and elders for telling “war stories.” Yet stories convey information, morals, and myths vividly and convincingly (Mitroff and Kilmann, 1975; Denning, 2005; Gottschall, 2012). They perpetuate values and keep heroic feats alive. This helps account for the recent proliferation of business books linking stories and leadership (Clark, 2004; Denning, 2004, 2005; Simmons, 2006, 2007; Seely et al., 2004). Barry Lopez captures poetically why stories are significant:

Remember only this one thing,

The stories people tell have a way of taking care of them.

If stories come to you, care for them.

And learn to give them away where they are needed.

Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive.

That is why we put these stories in each other's memories.

This is how people care for themselves (Lopez, 1998).

Stories are deeply rooted in the human experience. It is through story that we can see into each other's souls, and apprehend the soul of the organization. The stories that both individuals and organizations tell about themselves anchor identity and hope. Vough and Caza (2017) note that when individuals experience career setbacks, they do better going forward if they tell a positive story. For example, one manager said about a career setback: “I actually don't regret…[not being promoted], because it helped me better understand how to navigate the political landscape, to really trust myself, and not allow others' opinions to influence my own sense of self-worth” (p. 203).

Stories are told and retold around campfires and during family reunions (Clark, 2004). David Armstrong, CEO of Armstrong International, notes that storytelling has played a commanding role in history through the teachings of Jesus, the Buddha, and Mohammed, among many others. It can play an equally potent role in contemporary organizations: “Rules, either in policy manuals or on signs, can be intimidating. But the morals in stories are invariably inviting, fun, and inspiring. Through storytelling our people can know very clearly what the company believes in and what needs to be done” (Armstrong, 1992, p. 6). To Armstrong, storytelling is a simple, timeless, and memorable way to have fun, train newcomers, recognize accomplishments, and spread the word. Denning (2005) puts the functions of stories into eight categories:

• Sparking action
• Communicating who you are
• Communicating who the company is—branding
• Transmitting values
• Fostering collaboration
• Taming the grapevine
• Sharing knowledge
• Leading people into the future

Effective organizations are full of good stories. They often focus on the legendary exploits of corporate heroes. Marriott Hotels founder J. W. Marriott Sr. died many years ago, but his presence lives on. Stories of his unwavering commitment to customer service linger. His aphorism “Take good care of your employees and they'll take good care of your customers” is still part of Marriott's philosophy. According to fable, Marriott visited new general managers and took them for a walk around the property. He pointed out broken branches, sidewalk pebbles, and obscure cobwebs. By tour's end, the new manager had a long to-do list—and, more important, an indelible lesson in what mattered at Marriott.

Not all stories center on the founder or chief executive. Ritz-Carlton is famous for the upscale treatment it offers guests. It begins with the Ritz-Carlton credo and service values, reviewed at the daily “lineup” in every property and carried by every employee in a wallet-sized card. (Another hotel chain planned to implement a similar approach but then canceled the initiative to save the cost of the cards.) “My pleasure” is employees' traditional response to requests, no matter how demanding or trivial. One hurried guest jumped into a taxi to the airport but left his briefcase on the sidewalk. The doorman retrieved the briefcase, abandoned his post, sped to the airport, and delivered it to the panicked guest. Instead of being fired, the doorman became part of the legends and lore—a living example of the company's commitment to service (Deal and Jenkins, 1994).

Stories are a key medium for communicating corporate myths. They establish and perpetuate tradition. Recalled and embellished in formal meetings and informal coffee breaks, they convey and buttress an organization's values and identity to insiders, building loyalty and support. At a company's annual celebration banquet, a nervous executive serving as the night's emcee introduced all the VIPs seated at the head dais. As he was completing his obviously compulsory assignment, a younger man stepped up behind him and whispered, “You forgot to mention the chairman.”

A red-faced, flustered emcee turned to the crowd and apologized, “Oh yes, and of course our esteemed chairman of the board, Dr. Frye. Excuse me, Dr. Frye, my secretary left your name off the list.” Frye turned to his COO: “John, I want that guy fired tomorrow. That's not the way we do things around here. Honesty and owning your mistakes are a big part of who we are.” The story spread quickly through the cultural network. Point made.

Or take Costco, widely recognized for its low prices and high value. Jim Sinegal, founder and former CEO of Costco, is known as a masterful storyteller constantly spinning yarns that reinforce the value of putting the interests of customers and employees ahead of stockholders:

In 1996 we were selling between $150,000 and $200,000 worth of salmon fillet every week at $5.99 a pound. Then our buyers were able to get an improved product with belly fat, back fins, and collarbones removed, at a better price. As a result we reduced our retail price to $5.29. So they improved the product and lowered the price. The buyers weren't finished with the improvements, though. Next our buyers negotiated for a product with the pin bone out and all of the skin removed, and it was at an even better price, which enabled us to lower our price to $4.99 a pound. Then, because we had continued to grow and had increased our sales volume, we were able to buy direct from Canadian and Chilean farms, which resulted in an even lower price of $4.79 (Denning, 2005, p. 137).

The “salmon story” is a widely shared symbolic reminder that low prices and high value are central to Costco's core purpose. The story's meaning is reinforced by a “salmon award” given to an employee or supplier who shows great diligence in contributing to Costco's mission. Each award celebrates new stories and creates new lore.

“What else have we got besides stories?” Sinegal asks, “It's what brings meaning to the work we do” (Fisher, Harris, and Jarvis, 2008).

Costco does not advertise, because fans and the media tell their story for them. Costco couldn't say it better than “GearheadGrrrl” in a Daily Kos post:

Been looking for a small tool set to carry in the cars and sidecars, and Costco had the best deal with an American made Craftsman set for $100, now marked down to $80…I was still looking for a better floor jack and Costco had one for $100 that goes down as low as 4” to get under my cars and up to 18” to get the car up where it's easier on my back to work on. Shopped local, but anything equivalent was at least $150…My back is much happier now! So folks, that's the “Costco effect.” How Costco saves consumers dollars on mass market merchandise in major markets, while leaving opportunities for small local businesses to cater to our needs for specialty merchandise. Add in the living wages that Costco pays that allow Costco employees to funnel more dollars back into the economy, and we have a “Costco effect” that benefits workers, consumers, and businesses of all sizes instead of funneling wealth to the few like Walmart does! (GearheadGrrrl, 2013).

CNBC ran a TV story that focused on low prices, customer loyalty, and the “treasure hunt,” crediting Costco with reinventing shopping; the clip has more than 500,000 periodic views on YouTube (CNBC, 2013). The webmaster for addictedtocostco.com maintained her devotion to the store even after moving from Texas to the United Kingdom, despite a longer and initially scarier drive. Similar fanaticism was exemplified by two customers who held their engagement party at a local Costco. The story garnered national media attention.

Ritual

As a symbolic act, ritual is routine that “usually has a stateable purpose, but one that invariably alludes to more than it says, and has many meanings at once” (Moore and Meyerhoff, 1977, p. 5). Enacting a ritual connects an individual or group to something mystical, more than words or rational thinking can capture. At home and at work, ritual gives structure and meaning to each day: “We find these magical moments every day—drinking our morning coffee, reading the daily paper, eating lunch with a friend, drinking a glass of wine while admiring the sunset, or saying, ‘Good night, sleep tight…’ at bedtime. The holy in the daily; the sacred in the single act of living…A time to do the dishes. And a time to walk the dog” (Fulghum, 1995, pp. 3, 254).

Humans create both personal and communal rituals. The ones that carry meaning become the dance of life. “Rituals anchor us to a center,” Fulghum writes, “while freeing us to move on and confront the everlasting unpredictability of life. The paradox of ritual patterns and sacred habits is that they simultaneously serve as a solid footing and springboard, providing a stable dynamic in our lives” (1995, p. 261).

The power of ritual becomes palpable if one experiences the emptiness of losing it. Campbell (1988) underscores this loss: “When you lose rituals, you lose a sense of civilization; and that's why society is so out of kilter.” As mentioned earlier, many Catholics lost their faith in the 1960s when the Roman Catholic Church changed its liturgy from Latin to vernacular. Later the Church reversed its earlier position and gave local priests permission to conduct the mass in Latin. Conversely, when the Catholic Church was hit later with a series of scandals involving sexual abuse of children and adolescents by priests, shaken laypersons turned to rituals of the mass for comfort and reassurance.

Rituals of initiation induct newcomers into communal membership. “Greenhorns” often encounter powerful cultural pressures as they join a group or organization. A new member must gain entry to the inner sanctum. Transitioning from stranger to full-fledged member grants access to cherished organizational secrets. The key episode is the rite of passage affirming acceptance. In tribes, simply attaining puberty is insufficient for young males: “There must be an accompanying trial and appropriate ritual to mark the event. The so-called primitives had the good sense to make these trials meaningful and direct. Upon attaining puberty you killed a lion and were circumcised. After a little dancing and whatnot, you were admitted as a junior member and learned some secrets. The [men's] hut is a symbol of, and a medium for maintaining, the status quo and the good of the order” (Ritti and Funkhouser, 1982, p. 3).

We are not beyond the primitive drives, sexism, and superstition that gave rise to age-old institutions such as the men's hut. Consider the experience of a newly elected member of the U.S. Congress:

One of the early female novices was a representative who was a serious feminist. Soon after arriving in Congress, she broke propriety by audaciously proposing an amendment to a military bill of Edward Hebert, Chief of the Defense Clan. When the amendment received only a single vote, she supposedly snapped at the aged committee chairman: “I know the only reason my amendment failed is that I've got a vagina.” To which Hebert retorted, “If you'd been using your vagina instead of your mouth, maybe you'd have gotten a few more votes” (Weatherford, 1985, p. 35).

That exchange seems particularly harsh and offensive, but its multiple interpretations take us to the heart of symbolic customs. A kinder and gentler anecdote would blunt the power in a multilayered transaction with multiple meanings. Let's look at some possible versions.

One version highlights the age-old battle between the sexes. The female representative raises the specter of sexual discrimination; Hebert uses a sexist jibe to put her in her place. Another view sees the exchange as a classic give-and-take. Newcomers bring new ideas as agents of evolution and reform. Old-timers are supposed to pass along time-tested values and traditions. As an initiation ritual, the exchange is a predictable clash between a new arrival and an established veteran. The old-timer is reminding the rookie who's in charge. Newcomers don't get free admission. The price is higher for those who, because of race, gender, or ethnicity, question or threaten existing values, norms, or patterns. If newcomers succumb, an organization risks stultification and decay; if old-timers fail to induct new arrivals properly, chaos and disarray lie ahead. Only a weak culture accepts newcomers without some form of testing, rite of passage, or “hazing.” The rite of passage reinforces the existing culture while testing the newcomer's ability to become a member.

Initiation rituals in other organizations also reveal cultural values and ways to the newcomer. At Ritz Carlton, the process is called “Onboarding.” The two-day experience is as intense as the Congressional example but not as coarse. Newcomers learn the Credo and Gold Standards from current employees and high-ranking executives. They are imbued with their role as “ladies and gentlemen serving ladies and gentlemen.” They learn about the “Wow Effect” and their role in assuring that each guest has a superlative experience (each Ritz employee has a $4,000 discretionary fund to make sure this happens).

One new employee describes how the “Wow Effect” took place at the end of the event's second day:

We took a break. But before being dismissed our leaders asked each of us to write down our favorite food. Mine was Belgian chocolate. We handed in our slips of paper and left. Upon the return, there was a plate of our favorite food at each place. Belgian chocolate for me. I never forgot that and now look for any chance I have to make a guest exclaim “WOW.”

Initiation is one important role of ritual. Rituals also bond a group together and imbue the enterprise with traditions and values. They prepare combat pilots to slip into a fighter cockpit knowing they may not return:

For me, there can be no fighter pilots without fighter pilot rituals. The end result of these rituals is a culture that allows individuals to risk their lives and revel in it (Broughton, 1988, p. 131).

Some rituals become ceremonial occasions to recognize momentous accomplishments. When Captain Lance Sijan received his posthumous Medal of Honor, the president of the United States attended:

In the large room, men in impressive uniforms and costly vested suits and women [in uniforms] and cheerful spring pastels stood motionless and silent in their contemplation of the words. The stark text of the citation contained a wealth of evocative imagery, some of it savage, some tender to the point of heartbreak. President Ford left the rostrum: a group of senior officers drew up beside him to hand forward the glass-covered walnut case containing the medal. There was a certain liturgical quality to this passing of a sanctified object among a circle of anointed leaders (McConnell, 2004, p. 217).

At the other end of the scale are many light-hearted rituals, but even these have a more serious side:

On a Friday night at a base officers' club, four Marine A-6 Intruder pilots joined a packed crowd of Air Force officers. One of the Marine aviators put his cap on the bar while fishing for some money to pay for his drink. The bartender rang a foot-tall bell and yelled “Hat on the bar!” This infraction automatically means the guilty party buys a round of drinks. Surveying the size of the crowd, the Marine…refused to pay. An Air Force colonel approached him and asked him if he really intended to flout the tradition. When the Marine responded in the affirmative, the colonel called the base security and ordered the A-6 [aircraft] on the ramp impounded. The Marine left and called his superior to report the colonel's action. Shortly thereafter, he returned and asked sheepishly, “What's everyone having?” (R. Mola, cited in Reed, 2001, p. 6).

Rituals also delineate key relationships. One of the most important relationships in a fighter squadron is that between a pilot and crew chief.

A preflight ritual transfers ownership between someone who cares for an aircraft on the ground and the one who will take it aloft. The ground ritual has several phases. A first salute reinforces rank and signifies respect between mechanic and pilot. A handshake takes the formal greeting to a new level, cementing the personal bond between the two. A second salute after the pilot has checked the aircraft indicates the aircraft's airworthiness. It is now officially under the pilot's command. Finally, a thumbs-up is a personal gesture wishing the pilot a good flight. Interwoven, the many rituals of combat flying bond the participants and bind them to the service's traditions and values (R. Mola, cited in Reed, 2001, p. 5).

Ceremony

Historically, cultures have relied on ritual and ceremony to create order, clarity, and predictability—particularly around mysterious and random issues or dilemmas. The distinction between ritual and ceremony is elusive. As a rule of thumb, rituals are more frequent, everyday routines imbued with special meaning. Ceremonies are more episodic, grander, and more elaborate. Ceremonies often weave several rituals in concert and are convened at times of transition or on special occasions. Rain dances, harvest celebrations, the darkest days of winter, the new beginnings and hope of spring bring people together to remember the past and to renew faith, hope, and spirit. Annual business meetings invoke supernatural assistance in explaining dips in the stock price or in building new market share. Annual conventions renew old ties and revive deep, collective commitments. “Convention centers are the basilicas of secular religion” (Fulghum, 1995, p. 96).

Both ritual and ceremony are illustrated in an account from Japan:

It has been the same every night since the death in 1964 of Yasujiro Tsutsumi, the legendary patriarch of the huge Seibu real-estate and transportation group. Two employees stand an overnight vigil at his tomb…On New Year's, the weather is often bitter, but at dawn the vigil expands to include five or six hundred top executives—directors, vice presidents, presidents—arrayed by company and rank, the most senior in front. A limousine delivers Yasujiro's third son, Yoshiaki Tsutsumi, the head of the family business and Japan's richest man. A great brass bell booms out six times as Yoshiaki approaches his father's tomb. He claps his hands twice, bows deeply, and says, “Happy New Year, Father, Happy New Year.” Then he turns to deliver a brief-but-stern sermon to the assembled congregation. The basic themes change little from year to year: last year was tough, this year will be even tougher, and you'll be washing dishes in one of the hotels if your performance is bad. Finally, he toasts his father with warm sake and departs (Downer, 1994).

Ceremonies serve four major roles: they socialize, stabilize, reassure, and convey messages to external constituencies. Consider the example of Mary Kay Cosmetics. Several thousand people gather at the company's annual seminars to hear (now posthumous) personal messages from Mary Kay, to applaud the achievements of star salespeople, to hear success stories, and to celebrate. The ceremony brings new members into the fold and helps maintain faith, hope, and optimism in the Mary Kay family. It is a distinctive pageant and makes the Mary Kay culture accessible to outsiders, particularly consumers. Failure recedes and obstacles disappear in the “you can do it” spirit of the company symbol, the bumblebee—a creature that, according to mythical aerodynamics experts, should not be able to fly. Unaware of its limitations, it flies anyway.

Some events, like retirement dinners and welcoming events for new employees, are clearly ceremonial. Other ceremonies happen at moments of triumph or transition. When Phil Condit took over the reins of Boeing in 1996, he invited senior managers to his home for dinner. Afterward, the group gathered around a giant fire pit to tell stories about Boeing. Condit asked them to toss negative stories into the flames. It was an emblematic way to banish the dark side of the company's past (Deal and Key, 1998).

Condit resigned his chairman position at Boeing, under pressure, in 2003 but returned as part of the crowd to witness the ceremonial rollout of an aircraft his team had begun work on a decade earlier—the 787 Dreamliner. As the Seattle Post-Intelligencer reported, “With some 15,000 people gathered Sunday inside the world's largest building—Boeing's Everett factory—and tens of thousands more watching the event live around the world—Boeing opened the hangar doors to reveal the 787 Dreamliner, the first commercial passenger plane that will have a mostly composite airframe rather than aluminum…Those 15,000 employees, past and current executives, airline customers and others crowded around the new jet for an up-close look” (“Thousands Welcome the Long-Awaited 787 Dreamliner,” 2007).

Condit mingled with employees to give and receive congratulations. Tom Brokaw served as master of ceremonies. Rock music roused the crowd. The event gave VIPs and politicians an opportunity to bask in the glory of a momentous accomplishment. As those who had launched every plane from the 707 through the 747 rubbed elbows and swapped tales, the roots of the past fused with the joy of the present and the promise of tomorrow's next leap forward.

Ceremonies do not have to be as lavish as Boeing's launch of the Dreamliner. Every organization has its moments of achievement and atonement. Expressive events provide order and meaning and bind an organization or a society together.

Ceremony is equally evident in other arenas. In the United States, political conventions select candidates, even though in recent decades the winner is usually determined well in advance. After the conventions come several months in which competing candidates trade clichés. The same pageantry unfolds each election year. Rhetoric and spontaneous demonstrations are staged in advance. Campaigning is repetitious and superficial, reporters play up the skirmish of the day, and voting often seems disconnected from the main drama. The denouement is often just what everyone expected, but occasionally the drama takes an unexpected turn, as in 2016 when Donald Trump won even though he was expected to lose.

Even so, the process of electing a president is still a momentous ceremony. It entails a sense of social involvement. It is an outlet for expression of discontent and enthusiasm. It stages live drama for citizens to witness and debate and gives millions of people a sense of participating in an exciting adventure. It lets candidates reassure the public that there are answers to important questions and solutions to vexing problems. It draws attention to common social ties and to the importance of America's peaceful transfer of power (Edelman, 1977).

When properly conducted and attuned to valued myths, both ritual and ceremony fire the imagination and deepen faith; otherwise, they become cold, empty forms that people resent and avoid. They can release creativity and transform meanings, but they can also cement the status quo and block adaptation and learning. In some organizations, whining and complaining evolve as rituals of choice. Negative symbols perpetuate evil, just as positive symbols reinforce goodness. Symbols cut both ways.

Metaphor, Humor, and Play

Metaphor, humor, and play illustrate the important “as if,” “suppose that” quality of symbols. Metaphors make the strange familiar and the familiar strange. They capture subtle themes that normal language can obscure. Consider these metaphors from managers asked to depict their agency as it is and as they hope it might become:

Metaphors compress complicated issues into understandable images, influencing our attitudes and actions. A university head who views the institution as a factory leads differently than one who conceives of it as a craft guild, shopping center, or beloved alma mater.

Humor plays a number of important roles: It integrates, expresses skepticism, contributes to flexibility and adaptiveness, and lessens status differences. Hansot (1979) argues that instead of asking why people use humor in organizations, we should ask why people are so serious. Humor is a classic device for distancing, but it also draws people together. It establishes solidarity and facilitates face saving. Above all, it is a way to illuminate and break frames, indicating that any single definition of a situation is arbitrary.

Play and humor are often distinguished from work. Play is what people do away from the office. Images of play among managers typically connote aggression, competition, and struggle (“We've got to beat them at their own game”; “We dropped the ball on that one”; “We knocked that one out of the park”) rather than relaxation and fun. But if play is viewed as a state of mind (Bateson, 1972; Goffman, 1974), any activity can become playful. Play relaxes rules to explore alternatives, encouraging experimentation, flexibility, and creativity. Playfulness has created many remarkable innovations. March (1976) suggests some guidelines for encouraging play in organizations: treat goals as hypotheses, intuition as real, hypocrisy as transition, memory as an enemy, and experience as a theory.

BMW's Dream Factory

In 1959, BMW was in a financial hole as deep as the one General Motors and Ford experienced more recently (Edmondson, 2006. Copyright © 2006. McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc.). During the 1950s, BMW executives misjudged the consumer market, and customers shunned two new models—one too big and pricey even for the luxury market, the other a two-seater too small and impractical for the sporty crowd. BMW almost went bankrupt and almost had to sell out to Mercedes. A wealthy shareholder stepped in and, with concessions from the unions, bailed the company out. The memory of this close call is part of BMW's lore: “Near death experiences are healthy for companies. BMW has been running scared for years” (p. 4, Copyright © 2006. McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc.). The near-death story is retold often and is one of the first things newcomers learn.

Old ways become especially vulnerable in times of crisis. BMW shucked off its top-down mentality in 1959 and cultivated a new cultural mind-set to guard against making the same mistake again.

A visit to BMW's Leipzig plant shows how far the company has come. The plant's modern, artsy, open-air feeling reflects the company's cultural values and demonstrates its commitment to breaking down barriers among workers, designers, engineers, and managers. Openness encourages chance encounters and a freewheeling exchange of ideas. People “meet simply because their paths cross naturally. And they say ‘Ah, glad I ran into you, I have an idea’” (Edmondson, 2006, p. 1. Copyright © 2006. McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc.).

At BMW, the bedrock value is innovation:

Just about everyone working for the Bavarian automaker—from the factory floor to the design studios to the marketing department—is encouraged to speak out. Ideas bubble up freely, and there is never a penalty for proposing a new way of doing things, no matter how outlandish. Much of BMW's success stems from an entrepreneurial culture that's rare in corporate Germany, where management is usually top-down and the gulf between workers and management is vast. BMW's 100,000 employees have become a nimble network of true believers with few barriers to hinder innovation (Edmondson, 2006, pp. 1–2. Copyright © 2006. McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc.).

Commitment to its workers is another core value of BMW. It is not easy to get a job at a company that fields 200,000 applications annually. Those who pass initial screening have to survive intense interviews and a day of working in teams. The goal: to screen out those who don't fit. The lucky few who are hired move into the mix right away. They are forced to rely on veteran workers to learn the ropes. But once part of the BMW workforce, workers have unparalleled job security. Layoffs, once common at Ford and GM, don't happen at BMW. The company is loyal to its employees, and they respond in kind.

From the start, workers receive indoctrination into the BMW Way. They are steeped “with a sense of place, history, and mission. Individuals from all strata of the corporation work elbow-to-elbow, creating informal networks where they can hatch even the most unorthodox ideas for making better Bimmers or boosting profits. The average BMW buyer may not know it, but he is driving a machine born of thousands of important brainstorming sessions. BMW, in fact, may be the chattiest company ever” (Edmondson, 2006, p. 2. Copyright © 2006. McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc.).

Rituals are a way of tribal life at BMW—building bonds among diverse groups, connecting employees' hearts with the company's soul, and pooling far-flung ideas for better products. After BMW acquired Rolls-Royce, an assemblage of designers, engineers, marketers, and line workers was thrown together to redesign the signature Rolls Phantom. The result was a superluxurious best seller. When management decided to drop the Z3, a designer persuaded some other designers and engineers to join him in an “off the books, skunk-works” effort. The outcome of their collective endeavor: the successful Z4 sports car.

The flexibility of BMW's manufacturing process allows buyers to select engine types, interior configuration, and trim, customizing almost every key feature. They can change their minds up to 5 hours before the vehicle is assembled—and they do. The assembly line logs 170,000 alterations a month. This level of personal attention lets assemblers visualize who the driver might be. Making identical cars only every nine months creates a sense of personal touch and creativity. That's a prime reason work at BMW has meaning beyond a paycheck. Everyone's efforts are aimed at building a distinctive automobile that an owner will be proud to drive.

The vitality and cohesiveness of the idea-driven BMW culture is reflected in the company's bottom line. From its nadir in the 1950s, BMW grew past Mercedes to become the world's largest premium carmaker (Vella, 2006). But that growth may also be its biggest vulnerability. “Losing its culture to sheer size is a major risk” (Edmondson, 2006, p. 3. Copyright © 2006. McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc.). So far, BMW seems to be meeting the challenge of nurturing recollections of 1959 as a defense against complacency. In 2012, Forbes named BMW the most reputable company in the world.

Nordstrom's Rooted Culture

Nordstrom department stores are renowned for customer service and employee satisfaction. Customers rave about its no-hassle, no-questions-asked commitment to high-quality service: “not service the way it used to be, but service that never was” (Spector and McCarthy, 1995, p. 1). Year after year, Nordstrom has been ranked at or near the top in retail service ratings, and in 2016 it continued to hold the top spot for department stores. The company is consistently listed on Fortune's list of the 100 Best Companies to Work for.

Founder John Nordstrom was a Swedish immigrant who settled in Seattle after an odyssey across America and a brief stint hunting gold in Alaska. He and Carl Wallin, a shoemaker, opened a shoe store. Nordstrom's sons Elmer, Everett, and Lloyd joined the business. Collectively, they anchored the firm in an enduring philosophical principle: the customer is always right. The following generations of Nordstroms expanded the business while maintaining a close connection with historical roots.

The company relies on acculturated “Nordies” to induct new employees into customer service the Nordstrom way. Newcomers begin in sales, learning traditions from the ground up: “When we are at our best, our frontline people are lieutenants because they control the business. Our competition has foot soldiers on the front line and lieutenants in the back” (Spector and McCarthy, 1995, p. 106).

Nordstrom's unique commitment to customer service is heralded in its “heroics”—tales of heroes and heroines going out of their way:

• A customer fell in love with a particular pair of pleated burgundy slacks on sale at Nordstrom's downtown Seattle store. Unfortunately, the store was out of her size. The sales associate got cash from the department manager, marched across the street, bought the slacks at full price from a competitor, brought them back, and sold them to the customer at Nordstrom's reduced price (Spector and McCarthy, 1995, p. 26).
• According to legend, a Nordie once refunded a customer's payment for a set of automobile tires, even though the company had never stocked tires. In 1975, Nordstrom had acquired three stores from Northern Commercial in Alaska. The customer had purchased the tires from Northern Commercial, so Nordstrom took them back—as the story goes (Spector and McCarthy, 1995, p. 27).

Nordstrom's commitment to customer service is reinforced in storewide rituals. Newcomers encounter the company's values in the initial employee orientation. For many years, they were given a 5″ × 8″ card labeled the “Nordstrom Employee Handbook,” which listed only one rule: Use your sound judgment in all situations. Newcomers still get the card, but Nordstrom has added a handbook that lists a few rules and legal considerations. The emphasis on pleasing the customer is still dominant. At staff meetings, sales associates compare and discuss sales techniques and role-play customer encounters.

Periodic ceremonies reinforce the company's cherished values. From the company's early years, the Nordstrom family sponsored summer picnics and Christmas dance parties, and the company continues to create occasions to celebrate customer service: “We do crazy stuff. Monthly store powwows serve as a kind of revival meeting, where customer letters of appreciation are read and positive achievements are recognized, while coworkers whoop and cheer for one another. Letters of complaint about Nordstrom customer service are also read over the intercom (omitting the names of offending salespeople)” (Spector and McCarthy, 1995, pp. 120, 129).

At one spirited sales meeting, a regional manager asked all present to call out their sales targets for the year, which he posted on a large chart. Then the regional manager uncovered his own target for each person. Anyone whose target was below the regional manager's was roundly booed. Those whose individual goals were higher were acclaimed with enthusiastic cheers (Spector and McCarthy, 1995).

The delicate balance of competition, cooperation, and customer service has served Nordstrom well. Its stellar identity has created a sterling image. In a sermon titled “The Gospel According to Nordstrom,” one California minister “praised the retailer for carrying out the call of the gospel in ways more consistent and caring than we sometimes do in the church” (Spector and McCarthy, 1995, p. 21).

Nordstrom, like every business, has stumbled occasionally. But its steadfast loyalty to proven values and ways keeps the company on a successful course.