7 Dark Roses - Free Audio ebooks

THE IMP OF THE

IMPOSSIBLE

Good judgment and imaginative foresight are two qualities

which, working together,

can

make the “impossible” possible.

The valuable habits of healthy

skepticism and individual con-

fidence can, and often do, help

a determined individual refute

the discouragement of the crowd

. The executive must develop

the ability to rationally and knowledgeably reach decisions and

then go ahead—regardless of th

e “impossibility

” of his goal

Not long ago, I was forced to

demand the resignation of a

top-level executive in one of my

companies. Although he was

intelligent, hard-working and experienced, this man had a

signal weakness that proved fata

l to his career—and which, in

time, might well have proved fa

tal to the company. He simply

could not distinguish between th

e possible and the impossible—

and his myopia extended to matters large and small.

Typical of his costly blunders

was his tendency to undertake

tasks which he should have realized were patently impossible

to fulfill. Also typical were his ebulliently optimistic —and

completely unrealistic—estimates of the time it would take to

carry out an assignment or to complete a project.

“Yes, we can do it,” he’d

promise with bland assurance—

even though “it” could not be

done. “I’ll have everything

finished for you in three days,” he’d say confidently—even

though he must have known three

weeks

would be required

to perform the work in question.

Perhaps he was driven by some compulsive desire to im-

press people with promises. Maybe he was afflicted with some

rare form of sophoman

ia or counted on fort

uitous miracles to

achieve the impossibilities he was in the habit of promising so

rashly. Whatever the reasons, he gradually dragged

himself—and his associates, subordinates and superiors—

down into a morass of totally impractical projects,

backlogged work, canceled orders and incomplete programs

that had to be abandoned with consequent financial loss to

the company.

This executive’s inability to distinguish between the pos-

sible and the impossible created chaos within the company

and alienated its customers. Brought to book for his short-

comings, he again demonstrated his fatal myopia by failing

to realize that one cannot indefinitely hide one’s mistakes

behind glib excuses or displays

of histrionics. He indulged

freely in both in a futile effort to save the job he had

already proved he could not possibly handle.

I believe it was La Rochefoucauld who first argued that

“nothing is impossible.” In my opinion, this is sheer

nonsense and I flatly reject the theory, noting that even La

Rochefoucauld felt it advisable to later amend his adage to

read: “Few things are impossible in themselves.”

I’m inclined to cock a skeptical eye at even this revised

version. However, rather than further disparage the good

Duc de La Rochefoucauld’s philosophies, I’ll assume that

our definitions of the word “few” differ greatly and let it go

at that. In any event, he was referring to matters on a more

esoteric plane—while I am concerned with the hard-fact

specifics of everyday living and particularly of business.

It is my opinion—and it has been my experience—that

there are vast numbers of things which are impossible and

that one is very likely to encounter them frequently in the

business world. I firmly believe that one of the most

valuable assets a businessman or executive can possess is

the ability to study and weigh all the factors in a given

situation and determine what is feasible and what is not—

in short, to distinguish between the possible and the

impossible. The ability is seldom innate; rather, it is

acquired and developed. With it, an individual’s chances of

achieving success are greatly enhanced. Without it, he can

go only so far—or fail altogether. Many an otherwise

capable—or even great—man has failed because he lacked

this capacity.

A comparison between Julius Caesar and Augustus

Caesar indicates that Julius was basically the more able

and gifted of the two. But Ju

lius did not have the judgment

and sense of proportion to separate the wheat of the

possible from the chaff of the impossible—and this is what

ultimately led to his downfall and assassination.

Augustus Caesar, on the other hand, recognized what

were attainable goals, aimed for them and accomplished

them. Consequently, he ruled much longer than Julius, and

his overall accomplishments were much more constructive

and lasting.

Napoleon Bonaparte was also an able and gifted indi-

vidual—but he, too, was eventually destroyed by the

malefic imp of the impossible. Napoleon—like Julius

Caesar—was devoid of a sense of proportion, as evidenced

by his disastrous invasion of Russia. The Compleat

Megalomaniac, he blindly ignored the vast distances

involved, the Russian climate and his own political

weaknesses at home—all fairly obvious factors which

doomed his campaign to failure long before his troops began

their march to the east.

Now, a businessman who fails because he cannot dis-

tinguish between the possible and the impossible will not

be stabbed to death in the boardroom by the company’s

directors—at least, not literally. Nor will he be exiled for

the rest of his days to an island in the South Atlantic (un-

less, perhaps, the company happens to have a subsidiary

plant or branch office there). Nonetheless, the practice of

biting off more than he can properly chew will certainly

prove calamitous to any executive’s or businessman’s career

—and business.

But the converse is equally true, for the imp of the im-

possible is a perverse demon. The individual who is able to

perceive the glint of the possible in a situation which out-

wardly appears to be fraught with insuperable obstacles is

the most likely to reap the ri

chest rewards. One does not

have to look very far to find proof of this.

In the 1920s, self-taught engineer Robert G.

LeTourneau’s ideas for building huge earth-moving

machines were widely considered to be impractical pipe

dreams. LeTourneau, however, knew that he could actually

produce the equipment his detractors predicted would be

useless. He went on to build his giant machines and the

nation’s biggest earth-moving-machinery company—and to

revolutionize the entire heavy-construction industry.

Reaching 65 in 1953, LeTourne

au sold his business to

Westinghouse Air Brake for a reported $31,000,000. He

also agreed not to engage in manufacturing earth-moving

machinery for the next five ye

ars. The consensus held that

it would not be possible for him to get back into business

again —not only because of his age, but also because he

gave most of his money to a charitable foundation.

LeTourneau confounded the consensus, however. By 1959—

at the age of 71 —he was right back in business. He

produced a revolutionary electrically powered, mobile

offshore oil-drilling platform which, incidentally, the

wiseacres had maintained “never could be built and

wouldn’t work even if it was.” At last report, Robert

LeTourneau’s sales were said to be running in the

neighborhood of $10,000,000 a year.

Few people, indeed, considered the Depression-era year

of 1933 an auspicious one in which to start a new business.

Among those who thought otherwise was young J. A.

Ryder, who turned a deaf ear to the calamity howlers’

warnings that any new business was bound to fail. Using

$125 of his $155 “capital,” Ryder bought a secondhand

truck and went into business for himself. With an almost

uncanny talent for perceiving the possible in the most

unpromising times and situations, he went on to build his

business. Within 25 years, he had created a trucking

empire with an annual gross revenue that is said to exceed

$85,000,000.

Shortly before V-E Day, First Lieutenant Melvin J.

David was given a few days’ leave from the front and sent

to an Army rest center in Belgium. One afternoon, he

noticed several Belgian village

rs industriously twisting and

welding scraps of heavy wire into various shapes. He saw

that they were making lamp bases, stands and other

utilitarian and decorative objects out of the wire they’d

salvaged from nearby battlefields and the junk heaps of

Allied supply dumps and depots.

The Belgians’ activity gave David an idea. He saw the

possibilities of using wire to mass-produce a wide range of

industrial and consumer items.

Discharged from the Army

a year later, he went to Southern California and sought to

translate his idea into commercially practical reality. Told

that his ideas were unrealistic and impossible, he used his

slender capital—$1500—to design and build his first ma-

chine and went into business. Today, Mel David’s Melco

Wire Products Company is a thriving enterprise. The com

pany produces everything from bosom-supporters for wom-

en’s bathing suits to vital parts for jet aircraft—all made

from wire.

The annals of American business have always been

replete with such examples which prove that businessmen

can achieve notable success by discerning the possibility of

things which others consider impossible. The most

significant inventions and advancements have been made—

and the most successful businesses and largest fortunes

have been created—in precisely this way.

I encountered—or perhaps I should say I stumbled into

—a potentially possible “impossible” situation in 1940. My

cousin, the late Hal Seymour, and I were vacationing in

Mexico and stopped off in Acapulco. The climate,

surroundings and sea being fine—and swimming being one

of my favorite sports—we decided to stay awhile.

One day—and purely by accident—I met another tourist

who exuberantly declared he’d discovered “the world’s most

beautiful beach” and asked me if I’d care to see it. I agreed

that I would, almost backing out at the last minute when I

learned we’d have to take a truck through some 15 miles of

tropical forest to reach the spot. But I went anyway,

clinging grimly to the side of an ancient truck that jounced

and bumped along a crude dirt trail that looked as though

it had been unused since the

day it had been blazed by

some wandering brontosaurus.

My first glimpse of Revolcadero Beach was ample com-

pensation for the discomfort of the journey and balm for my

bruises. My tourist friend hadn’t exaggerated. It

was

the

world’s most beautiful beach. After a few more visits, I

made up my mind to buy several hundred acres of the pro-

perty and build a luxury resort hotel on the site.

Now, most people I know generally disagree about most

things, but when I announced

my intentions to buy and

build at Revolcadero Beach, their reactions were uniquely

unanimous.

“Impossible!”

The reasons they gave for considering my proposal im-

possible were legion—and, I must admit, ostensibly reason-

able. The land I wanted to buy was completely

undeveloped; it would cost a fortune merely to clear it.

There were no roads and no utilities; these would have to

be built and provided at staggering cost. Revolcadero Beach

was unknown and off the beaten path; people would not

pay luxury-hotel rates in a resort that wasn’t situated in a

“fashionable” location. The type of resort I envisioned would

need boat landings and a yacht basin; another fortune

would be needed to build and dredge them. Europe was

already at war—it was foolhardy to invest large sums in

any foreign country . . .

So the objections ran—on and on. They varied in nature,

but added up to a one-word total: “Impossible!”

I thought—I

knew

—the project was entirely possible.

Development of the land alone would increase its value.

The natural beauty of Revolcadero Beach and the

construction of the type of hotel I envisioned there would be

enough to make the resort “fashionable.” Lower labor and

material costs in Mexico would at least partially offset the

added expense of building from scratch on virgin land.

These and other considerations convinced me—and I

bought the land. Pearl Harbor was attacked shortly

afterward, and the United States entered World War Two.

My plans for Revolcadero Beach were shelved for the

duration.