Andrew took a deep breath. “This is starting to sound pretty negative.”

“Not negative. Just difficult. I said before that being a good executive, especially a CEO, is extremely hard. But remember—”

Andrew interrupted sarcastically. “I know. It’s not complicated.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you, Andy?”

“Not yet. But go ahead.”

Charlie set the flashlight on the seat next to him so that its light reflected off the white ceiling of the train. “Okay. Let’s assume that you are not overly focused on your career, but that you are completely driven by the results of your company. You can still fail if you give in to temptation number two.”

“Which is?”

“Wanting to be popular with your direct reports instead of holding them accountable.”

Andrew waited to see if Charlie had anything else to say. When he didn’t, Andrew remarked, “That’s it?”

“What do you mean, ‘That’s it’?”

“I mean, accountability is the most overused buzzword in business today. Every time something goes wrong, people say that there should be more accountability.”

Charlie didn’t seem hurt by the dismissal of his theory. Andrew continued. “And popularity. That’s something kids talk about in junior high.”

Charlie just smiled. “I told you it’s simple.”

Andrew wanted to move on. With a laugh he said, “Well, I can say that I don’t have a problem with accountability or popularity. Let’s move on to temptation number three.”

“Okay. But first let me ask you why you’re so sure about this.”

With a look of feigned contriteness, Andrew explained. “Well, for starters, last week I fired my head of marketing. I’m not afraid to take action when I have to.” He seemed almost proud.

Charlie looked skeptical. “I see.”

Andrew was annoyed by the old man’s hesitation, but he wanted to know what Charlie was thinking. “You’re not convinced.”

Charlie responded apologetically. “I’m sorry, Andrew. I just think you’re confused about something. Do you mind if I test you on this one?”

“Go ahead.”

“Okay. Why exactly did you fire this marketing guy? What’s his name?”

“Terry. I fired him because he wasn’t getting the job done. He was here for ten months and wasn’t cutting it. He came to meetings unprepared. His advertising ideas were stale. He wasn’t generating the kind of leads that sales needed.” Andrew sounded as if he were trying to convince himself.

Without any sense of accusation, Charlie asked, “So what did you do?”

“I told you. I fired him.”

“No, I mean, what did you do along the way? I’m sure you talked to him at some point during those ten months before you fired him.”

“Oh, sure. I talked to him about things. But for the most part, I just treated him like anyone else. In fact, I’d have to say that I actually liked Terry better than most of my other direct reports.”

“But you saw that he was struggling?”

“Oh yeah. Our head of sales said she wasn’t getting the quantity or quality of leads she needed. And none of us thought the advertising was worth a damn.”

“What did you say to Terry?”

Andrew thought about the question for a moment. “I don’t know. I told him that Janice—she’s my head of sales— wanted more high-quality leads. I mentioned that I liked last year’s ads better than his new ones.”

“What did he say?”

“That he was still learning the ropes. Which sounded reasonable to me. He was still pretty new.”

“And things didn’t change?”

“That’s right. So I asked him how things were going, and he said that the situation he inherited from the last marketing guy was worse than he had imagined. He said it was going to take longer than expected to turn things around.”

“Did you do anything specific at that point? Cut his pay? Withhold a bonus? Anything like that?” Charlie seemed to be rooting for a yes answer.

Andrew frowned. “No. Not giving him a bonus or cutting his pay would have been harsh. He’d just moved his family halfway across the country.”

“So I guess you didn’t tell him that his job was in jeopardy either?” Charlie knew the answer.

“No way. I didn’t want to make him nervous. I figured things would probably improve with time, and that I shouldn’t do anything that might defunctionalize him.”

“And then?”

“Three weeks later I fired him.”

For a moment, just a moment, Charlie and Andrew stared at one another as they contemplated Andrew’s response. And then they started laughing, in a guilty kind of way.

After a few seconds, Charlie asked: “Just like that? You just fired him?”

Trying unsuccessfully to wipe the guilty smile off his face, Andrew defended himself. “No, of course not. Sales were still lagging. Then Terry placed a horrible ad in USA Today last month. I started getting calls from board members wondering what was going on in marketing. I decided it was the right thing to do.”

“Was he surprised?”

“Oh yeah. I couldn’t believe it. I thought he was going to cry for a second there. Which told me something.”

“What?”

“That he was out of touch. He should’ve known that he was in trouble. I mean, we talked about generating more leads at every staff meeting, and nothing seemed to change.”

Charlie frowned and squinted as though he were debating whether to say what what was on his mind.

“What’s wrong?”

“Andrew.” Charlie addressed him by his formal name. “I’m going to be tough on you. Is that alright?”

“Sure.” This time Andrew didn’t seem to mean it.

With barely a hint of scolding, Charlie asked, “Why didn’t you tell Terry that you would let him go if things didn’t improve?”

“I already told you, we talked about lead generation at every—”

Charlie interrupted. “Yes, I know. You talked about lead generation. But that’s quite different from telling someone that he might lose his job.”

Andrew was clearly getting frustrated by Charlie’s line of questioning, but the old man went on.

“If you were fired tomorrow by the board, would you be surprised?”

This came too close to home for Andrew, who almost snapped at the old man. “That is totally outrageous. The board is not going to fire me.”

The old man held up his hand and dropped his head a bit. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that they actually are going to do something like that. It’s just—”

Calming down quickly, Andrew interrupted. “I know what you meant, Charlie. I’m sorry, it’s just that it’s late and I’ve been under pressure and—”

Andrew stopped talking, as though he had run out of words. He and Charlie sat and stared at the darkness outside the train.

Finally, Andrew broke the silence. “So, what were you saying?”

“It’s not important, Andy. I don’t want to upset you. Really.”

“You’re not upsetting me. It’s good to get pushed out of my comfort zone from time to time. I read that somewhere.”

They laughed.

“Go ahead, Charlie.”

“Okay. I was just asking how you would feel if the board was thinking about replacing you. Without telling you.”

Andrew now considered the question intellectually. “Well, certainly I wouldn’t be happy. But the truth is, it happens all the time. Boards don’t give CEOs lots of warning and advice. They aren’t the CEO’s manager. I see them as having a control function more than anything else.”

“That’s true. But you were Terry’s manager.”

Andrew rubbed his eyes as he pondered the point. “You know, I have to say that I didn’t really see myself as Terry’s manager. I don’t think I’m Janice’s manager, or Phil’s, Tom’s, Mary’s, or anyone else’s on my team.”

“Why in heaven’s name not?”

“Because they’re all adults, and they’re experts at what they do. Who am I to tell them how to do their jobs?”

Charlie smiled a knowing, parental smile.

Andrew felt Charlie’s disapproval, and he finally broke. Speaking more quickly and forcefully than he did before, he explained: “Okay, Charlie. I’ll tell you why I never told Terry that he might lose his job. For one, he’s older than me by almost ten years. It feels pretty damn weird telling a guy who reminds you of your uncle that you might fire him. Second, he knows a hell of a lot more about marketing than I do. How was I supposed to second-guess his decisions? My background is in electrical engineering. Three, Terry was one of the few people on my team I could go to and talk about the pressure I was under. He was probably more supportive than anyone on my staff. I didn’t want to lose him as a sounding board.”

“So you thought that if you told him about your intentions, he might not like you as much, and might not feel like being your confidant anymore?”

Andrew half nodded, so Charlie pressed on.

“You were afraid to be unpopular.”

“Come on. I fired the poor guy.”

Suddenly Charlie became slightly agitated. “Yes, and now you don’t have to deal with him anymore, do you? It’s one thing to hold someone accountable for something and come back the next day and deal with him. It’s another to fire him and never have to talk to him again.”

Stunned, Andrew just sat there digesting his words. Even Charlie was shaken by the directness of his own tone. “I’m sorry, it’s just that—”

In a daze, Andrew interrupted, as though he hadn’t even heard the beginning of Charlie’s apology. “You know something, Charlie? As horrible as it sounds, I know plenty of CEOs who do the same thing. It’s not as cut-and-dry as you make it sound. There are all kinds of personal dynamics and context to deal with.”

Calmly, Charlie responded. “Yes, it’s very common. But that’s because they don’t understand the difference between holding someone accountable and deciding to fire them.”

Andrew shrugged as though he were giving up, so Charlie tried a new approach.

“Andy, in seventeen years as CEO of the railroad, do you know how many people my father fired?”

Andrew shook his head. Charlie held up his hand with five fingers extended.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful to your father, but that’s ridiculous. Was he running a railroad or a charity?”

“You’re misunderstanding me. I said my father only fired five people. But I didn’t say how many people left the company because they couldn’t perform.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean my father was a fanatic about performance. People who worked for him knew that they either produced or were gone.”

“So how come he didn’t fire more people?”

“Because he told them what he expected and reminded them of those expectations constantly. When they failed, he made the consequences clear, whether it was financial or otherwise. Eventually, if a person couldn’t find a way to improve, they would just leave.”

Andrew looked skeptical. “What about the five people he did fire?”

“Two of them violated company rules. My father never told me what they did. The other three were people who just couldn’t come to terms with their failures. They couldn’t bring themselves to leave, so my father did it for them.”

For the first time, Andrew was beginning to like Charlie’s father. “Your dad sounds pretty tough.”

“Yeah, I guess he was tough. But it crushed him to fire those people. Still, he had no choice.”

“Come on, sure he had a choice.”

“Not in his mind. If he had let those five stay, he would have been letting people down.”

“You mean shareholders.”

“No. My father felt a sense of duty toward all the people who left on their own when they couldn’t perform. He felt like he had to uphold the standards they held themselves to.”

Charlie paused. Andrew could tell the old man was thinking about his father.

Andrew paid his respects: “Your father sounds like a wise man, Charlie. I bet he was a great CEO.”

Charlie nodded.

Andrew continued. “Now don’t take this wrong, but I’d have to say that business today is a little more complicated than it was back then.”

Charlie wasn’t upset by the comment. “Why do you say that?”

“Where should I start? There’s global competition, technology changes, more regulations than ever before. It’s just complicated. Back then they had government protection. Cheap labor. Things are harder today.”

“So, this situation with Terry. You don’t suppose that my father’s approach would have worked?”

Andrew pretended to consider the question. “To be honest, probably not.”

“Why not?”

“It’s like I said before. I wouldn’t have known specifically what to hold him accountable for. I would have been guessing. This industry is complex, and I can’t pretend to know more about marketing than Terry does. He’s the expert.”

Charlie shifted in his chair and leaned forward. “So let me get this straight. It’s not fair to hold a guy accountable for something specific because you aren’t an expert in his field. But it’s fair to fire him without warning when he doesn’t meet your expectations? Do I have that right?”

Andrew didn’t know what to say. “It isn’t that simple.”

“It is that simple. That’s the point. It’s not supposed to be complicated. You make it complicated because you’re not facing your own issues.”

At this point Andrew felt challenged by the old man. “Okay, Charlie. Why do you think an intelligent person with an MBA would want to be popular rather than hold someone accountable for their job?”

“Ah, that brings us to temptation number three.”