Power Distance And Hypocrisy

In business, the trend towards outsourcing and off-shoring has been going on for years. I've had overseas software developers, researchers, writers, assistants, marketing teams and customer service people work for me. We've all had moments of success and massive failure speaking to foreign customer service agents with whatever large companies we do business.

Years ago, I called United to inquire about changing a return flight from Los Angeles to Seattle without incurring a large expense. The agent in India told me not to worry, there were plenty of good choices. She offered me flights from LA to Seattle via Washington Dulles, Chicago and Houston. It became clear she had NO IDEA where those places were in relation and why they were absurd options. We all have a story like that – or many.

Yesterday a friend and I were talking about how he's dealing with the Filipino sales team he inherited in his new role. There were many dimensions to the conversation, but one was how if he hosts a Zoom meeting with his team, they're all stone silent. A lead manager in the Philippines explained off-line that it's a cultural issue. No one wants to say the wrong thing and get in trouble with the boss. So why my friendly, dynamic friend is trying to build a team culture with enthusiasm, engagement, openness and creativity, his people are by default scared shitless.

As anyone who has read this blog regularly knows, I'm a big fan of the Hofestede's Cultural Dimensions Theory – it was one of my favorite things I studied in college. As a quick refresher, Hofestede was interested in what defines cultures and how they compare to one another. This can allow us to understand one another much better. He broke cultures into axes (which you might think of as spectrums in today's parlance): Power Distance, Individualism vs Collectivism, Uncertainty Avoidance, Motivation Towards Achievement and Success (formerly called Masculinity vs Femininity), Long-Term Orientation vs Short-Term Orientation, and Indulgence vs Restraint. Hofestede and subsequent Hofestede devotees have researched every country on Earth and if you ever want to geek-out on cultural dimensions, there are website like https://www.theculturefactor.com/country-comparison-tool where you can compare multiple countries' Hofestede ratings with one another. 

I did a quick check and the Philippines has a 95 percent Power Distance Index – meaning it is an extraordinarily hierarchical society. It means the powerful are POWERFUL and generally people know "their place". This is a major part of why Filipino cultural has strong elements of being polite and deferential which is nominally good for customer service. 

One major problem I see in using Filipino staff is that their Power Distance orientation tends to make them too agreeable. In situations where you need teams to pushback, offer alternatives, get creative – Power Distance can get in the way because even if someone has a great thought, they are unlikely to express it. In situations where an organization wants to learn, adjust and optimize, high Power Distance quotients aren't a good fit.

Luckily, my friend is creative and likes to learn, adjust and optimize – so he has as good a chance as anyone at finding a solution to managing his team. Still, I don't envy him – it's going to be uphill.

Lately I have come to realize I too have a Power Distance problem. As a general rule, I'm not a fan of Power Distance. We're all people and whether you're a ditch digger (if those really exist anymore) or a King (a few of those still exist) – your job doesn't make you a more or less worthy person. I like to treat everyone with respect. I am not better than some people and lesser than others because of my income or education. In truth in life, we can be up or down at anytime and as the old adage goes, "Be careful how you treat people on the way up because you'll meet them on the way down."

That said, disparity exists. Class exists. Directly and indirectly, I pay people to do things for me – in many cases, jobs I don't want to do. The cleaning lady, the car wash workers, the gardener, hotel housekeepers, bussers, parking lot attendants, people who drain and clean port-a-potties, pest-control, airline bag handlers… the list could go on and on.

When these people are anonymous, I'm comfortable. The baggage handler on the tarmac may be out in 100 degree weather putting my bag on the plane, but we never meet. The gardener comes and goes from my yard as he pleases and we have exchanged a few words here and there. The car wash guys and I exchange thank-you's and I had over a tip. That's that.

But when the person is real to me – and the more I come to know and like them – the more uncomfortable I become. For example, in Westlake I try not to be home when my cleaning lady is around. Nominally, getting out of the house makes her job easier. But if I'm honest with myself, I've known Sylvia for many years, I know about some of her personal struggles like when her boyfriend had severe diabetes, had multiple amputations and then died because he couldn't/wouldn't get control of his condition or when her son in El Salvador was arrested and imprisoned for protesting and held for six months without due process or being allowed visitors). I know about some of Sylvia's joys like when her granddaughter she had never been able to meet came from El Salvador for a visit or when her grandson took a few of his grandfather's chickens and turned them into a profitable egg-selling business. She's so proud she talks about it almost every time I see her. 

Make no mistake, both Sylvia and I understand I pay her a fair wage (her choosing) for her services and she was engaged to clean my house. I understand I have nothing to feel badly about. And since Sylvia also cleans Emily's house on the same day of the week, Sylvia may be the one winner in our divorce – she doubled her Monday income by working a few extra hours. 

All the same, the more time passes – the more I know of Sylvia's struggles – the more her work has supported me and my kids – the less comfortable I feel when she's cleaning. Especially if I'm sitting at my desk or the table or on the sofa working – but not with the physical demand and stamina of her work. 

I had a similar problem when I moved into the house I leased for 2.5 years in Bali. It came with a housekeeper and gardener – not of my choosing. So I sort of inherited Nengah – a male housekeeper about my age (27 at the time) with a dent in his forehead. It turned out he had been in a serious motorcycle accident the prior year, sustained Traumatic Brain Injury and the hospital never properly reset his cranial bones, leaving the dent. Nengah had only recently gotten back to being "fit for duty" and the family who owned the property assigned him to my house (which I like to think worked out surprisingly well). 

I was EXTREMELY uncomfortable having this guy who could walk in and out of my house through a servant's door in the back anytime and who kinda sat around out back and in his quarters under the dining gazebo. Wealthy Indonesians call or snap for their servants anytime, all day and night – so Nengah was on standby for me. I was leasing a house in paradise, not the lord of a manor plantation. So I quickly decided there were things I would like Nengah to do – and nothing else. I wrote a list or routine for him – make breakfast, wash the dishes, take the dirty laundry to the local laundry, pick up fruit from the local outdoor market, open and close all the upstairs shutters each morning and evening, clean the house periodically. I told him other than doing those prescribed things, I didn't care where he was and when. In my mind, this gave Nengah a square deal – he had clarity, a fair amount of autonomy and to me, he became more of a service provider than a servant – which helped a lot.

Nengah and I had a very defined relationship. We came into it knowing he was staff and I was the resident of the house. We didn't speak the same language and came from very different cultures. His, like the Philippines, also has a high Power Distance – 78 percent. My country's Power Distance Index is 40 percent. Nengah and I shared very little an had no real social ties. Our relationship was very defined.

Here on Patmos, the people who serve me are also my neighbors. Culturally, they are much more similar to me than they are different and in most cases, they speak English at least passably if not well. Dimitris the appliance guy came yesterday to quickly discuss replacing the air-conditioning unit that covers the living room and kitchen. His English is good, his services are in extremely high demand, he knows everyone and everyone knows him – and he may well make more money than me. Manolis – one of the island's most popular electricians – has a team of underlings and apprentices and walks around like a king. His wife has a shop in the town square and they are pillars of the community. These people have much more standing in Patmos society than I do and when they show up at my house, they make it feel like they are doing me a favor, not that I am a valued customer.

I cannot express how excited I was that after MONTHS of messaging Dimitris, he showed up for five minutes and agreed to do the job. Manolis re-did my yard lighting a few months ago. He would only do it off-season and wouldn't commit to a date and time. There was basically a ten-month window in which he would replace the lights. He just showed up one day in April and did it. And I was grateful he did.

I can't be in the house at all when Immanoula who cleans for me comes over. Practically speaking, it helps to just give her the room to work. It's also a cover for my discomfort. Immanoula also gives me a hug when she sees me, she's kind and friendly. Despite saying she doesn't speak English, she speaks it pretty well. I've seen her dropping off and picking up her little daughter at the preschool down the street. If she had never been referred to me to clean, I would have enjoyed knowing Immanoula within the community around town either way. So it feels really uncomfortable when Immanoula comes to change my sheets and mop my floors. She also does a hell of a job and very quickly….

In 2019, before the divorce, we stayed as a family (including our then au pair Matheus) in an Airbnb apartment up the hill of the Kastelli neighborhood. The narrow and steep "road" didn't allow for car access. This makes one eligible for grocery delivery. You shop at the supermarket, they set your bags aside and then someone comes with them on motorscooter usually within 30-45 minutes. Valentis was our usual delivery-guy and he was always kind enough to schlep everything from his scooter, up the stone stairs and right onto our kitchen counter and table. He speaks very good English so we could chit-chat and I always tipped well because he went the extra mile for us – and we went through a lot of groceries.

One Sunday afternoon, we saw Valentis and his family – two young kids maybe six months and three-years – at the swimming pool at the Pleiades restaurant (yes, it's a restaurant with a swimming pool and it makes sense in context). Emily and I sat and talked with Valentis and his wife for a long time while our kids played. They are really nice people who moved back to Patmos to raise kids around family. Very relatable.

It's hard to imagine in Westlake finding myself in the same pool or hot tub with the Amazon driver or the GrubHub delivery-person. Not impossible – especially because all kinds of people participate in the gig-economy for all kinds of reasons. It's just never happened to me. Not once. 

The only problem after pool-day with Valentis was then I felt very awkward when he delivered things to our house. He had become a social acquaintance and we were no longer just business. I felt bad that he was all sweaty, schlepping on a hot day with so many other deliveries still to make.

Valentis now manages Atmos, a very chic beach cafe and bar on Kampos Beach – which I like much better for him and I'm sure he does too.

I'm not altogether sure what all of this says about me. Clearly, as soon as I humanize someone – when they become a real person to me – I feel uncomfortable with power distance. I want to equalize the relationship. Is that good because I respect people I know? Is it bad because I'll tolerate something for an anonymous person that I wouldn't someone I know? Is it realistic because people serve us and we serve others in various ways and there's always going to be a hierarchy of skills and value for various services?

I never feel badly that my hygienist cleans my teeth or my pokes around my body. I actually really like my dentist, hygienist and doctor and consider the visits a chance to also socialize a little. Professionals have high-level skills, get paid well and have high social standing.

That doesn't always apply. I knew my divorce attorney, Matt, prior to using his services – we both had offices in the same shared office suite and we had been friendly for years before I came to him for help. I really like Matt and because I could see how busy he was and what was going on his life, I felt really badly when I needed his immediately attention on something – because I really wanted to be supportive of his situation – and he came through for me on the biggest, most important things in my life. However, had I been referred to Matt my a friend or acquaintance, maybe I would have been more aggressive about getting his attention when I wanted it….? Still, I never felt badly about the work he did for me. Quite the contrary. I'm really grateful for it and appreciate him tremendously because he has integrity and a good heart in a field where those things can be hard to come by.

I'm not altogether sure if my issue is discomfort with Power Distance or just hypocrisy. I'm uncomfortable with inequalities when they're visible to me – when they're among people I know – but kinda' fine with it when there's distance and anonymity. I want someone to load my bags onto the plane even if it's blazing out and no one – including me – wants me to be the one in charge of cleaning the kitchen. When my friend Jesiah and I shared an apartment in Taiwan in 2003-2004, we brought X-14 bathroom cleaning spray from the US. I am sure that stuff is horrible for people and the environment. It has since been discontinued. But for two twenty-something year-old bachelors living abroad, none of that mattered. We bombed the bathroom with X-14, left the apartment and came back to nuclear winter – everything was perfectly sterile. 

So what to do with my feelings about Power Distance, hypocrisy, relationships and community? I don't know. On Patmos, it will continue to be something that evolves for me. Sometimes the guy who has to dig through the hot backroom of the old post office to find my Amazon packages is the guy sitting next to me at a cafe. Sometimes the cafe waiter is swimming with his family at the beach with me and my kids.

On the other hand, sometimes the Aga Khan is riding a bicycle around town in a wrinkled cotton button-down, shorts and flip-flops as has been pointed out to me recently. I suppose if we can take one thing from any of this, it's that the Aga Khan – the prince of a country that doesn't exist, religious leader to many and multi-billionaire businessman with multiple nationalities – is helping bring down the Power Distance quotient. So…Aga Khan, Aga Khan, Everybody in the house, Aga Khan.