by admin | May 25, 2021 | Books
Chicago : A new order of leadership has emerged around the world which is “transient” in nature and dependent on “the issues of the day”, a just-published book edited by a leading Indian American expert in reliability engineering, says.
“There may still exist leaders in the traditional sense such as presidents, prime ministers, lawmakers, CEOs, and so on, but their roles will get constantly shaped and reshaped by social media trends.
“The ivory tower of leadership has fully crumbled and from its debris is emerging a new order where leadership will become transient depending on the issues of the day,” says Bharat Thakkar, a respected engineer and professor, in the preface to the book “The Future of Leadership: Addressing Complex Global Issues” published by Palgrave Macmillan.
The book, which was released here by technology guru and development thinker Sam Pitroda, who has also written a foreword to it, gathers respected experts in various fields and offers nine exhaustive essays on a variety of subjects.
They include a brief history of leadership, women and future leadership, leadership in the next decade and beyond, and healthcare and leadership.
“My objective is to offer broad trends in the emergence of a new order of leadership in different walks of life. Leadership is not just about government or politics, but it shapes all human endeavour. It is important that the human race prepares itself for these major changes,” Thakkar told IANS.
Illustrating how traditional structures of leadership have broken down, Thakkar said: “In my own career as an engineer and then as a professor in America spanning five decades, I have had to constantly respond to this level of democratisation.
“It is quite common for my Ph.D. students to directly challenge me in my assessments by the simple act of sending me an email. For a long time, professors were those mythical, aloof figures whose wrath could be earned by students at their own peril.
“While there are still figures like that, by and large the role of the professor as an academic leader has undergone an extraordinary change.”
He said because of the democratisation brought about by information technology, “leadership in all walks of life has become extremely mindful that they are being watched by a vast majority of people”.
In his introduction to the book, Pitroda writes, “Unlike in the centuries past when leadership meant exclusive elites, mostly men, who controlled knowledge and information and therefore societies, we now live in an age where information and knowledge have been rapidly democratised in terms of access and understanding. This has, in turn, made decision-making deeply informed and individualised.”
“The traditional evolution of leadership from being — transformational- trust-based to transactional-performance-based to customer-centric-satisfaction-based to people-centric-delight-based — is now at a stage that it incorporates all the above even as it responds to the exponential growth of technology in every walk of life,” he writes.
“Everything is technology and technology is everything now. Even in politics the ability to get rid of intermediaries the way Twitter and Facebook have done, allowing political leaders to directly reach people, has forever altered leadership,” Pitroda writes, but warns: “It can often be to the detriment of society if not used judiciously.”
Thakkar said the book is written in a manner that it appeals to both regular readership as well those pursuing academia. “In fact, I think it could become prescribed reading for universities around the world.”
—IANS
by admin | May 25, 2021 | Books
By Tarun Basu,
Book: The Psychological Impact of the Partition of India; Editors: Sanjeev Jain and Alok Sarin; Publisher: Sage; Price: Rs 850; Pages: 241
In a few weeks, India and Pakistan will commemorate the 71st anniversary of the Partition of the subcontinent with speeches, marches, exhortations and ceremonies. The day is a celebratory occasion; little thought is spared for the suffering and trauma that millions of men, women and children endured in a cataclysmic event that not only changed the geography of the region, but scarred its history, mutilated its sociology and left bitter legacies that are being felt to this day in the two countries’ politics and policies.
While events like the Holocaust have created a fair amount of psychological literature, in South Asia virtually no documentation is available on the Partition survivors and their experiences of the “mass displacement” during which an estimated one million people were killed, thousands of women were raped and 10 to 15 million people were forced to leave their homes as refugees to an uncertain future. This is either because, as the authors contend, the medical services were quite indifferent to the psychological space for long or because the horrors of Partition got “entombed” due to a certain wariness of resurrecting its ghosts.
This first-of-a-kind collective, interdisciplinary inquiry into the impact of Partition on the minds of people — edited by two eminent psychiatrists, Dr Sanjeev Jain and Dr Alok Sarin — brings together psychiatrists, historians, sociologists and literary minds in a holistic examination of the psychological and sociological impact of Partition, especially at a time mental health and its consequences have become a modern scourge and yet remains the most misunderstood science.
What caused perfectly sane and normal people individually to resort to collective madness? What led to the orgy — on both sides — of violence, assault and other abominations that they would otherwise have been ashamed of? What were the consequences on individuals, families and societies that had to bear the psychological scars of the Partition trauma? Was the trauma so intense “that it led to a stunned silence among professionals who were also deeply affected by it”, asks Dr Narendra Nath Wig, eminent psychiatric professor at PGIMER, Chandigarh, in his foreword to the book.
Since Partition involved two countries and their peoples, how much post-partition inquiry has happened in Pakistan? While the Pakistani state is seemingly blindsided on this aspect, there has been some professional interest on the Pakistani side, and this book would have gained greater currency if the views of the “other side” could also be incorporated in some way. There seems to already exist a cross-border organisation of mental health professionals in the shape of the Indo-Pak Punjab Psychiatric Society.
Nevertheless, when Partition is spoken of, it largely implies the partition of Punjab. The partition of eastern India — the division of Bengal in 1905 — has not evoked the kind of inquiry and research that the western division — with its traumatic consequences — has. Nevertheless this is a valuable repository of experiences for psychiatrists and mental health counsellors of future generations — especially since it has been established that there is an intergeneration transmission of trauma — on what caused this madness and its social fallout and should lead to a more humane understanding of persons with mental illness and psychological distress.
Did the Partition unleash an insanity which persists in day-to-day life, attitude and ideology? Well, as one of the contributing authors, Moushumi Basu, argues, there is an “everydayness” to Partition and there are always people, aided by political conditions, who would exploit religious and other social vulnerabilities among people and communities to lead nations on to dangerous paths — from the break-up of Yugoslavia in Europe into five countries to Darfur in Africa that led to eventual partitioning of Sudan into two nations. And if these are not lessons to be learnt from history, the book provides plenty of thought and psychological fodder on how Partition can be a “metaphor for madness” among societies and nations, often with disastrous results .
(Tarun Basu can be contacted at tarun.basu@spsindia.in)
—IANS
by admin | May 25, 2021 | Books
By Mayabhushan Nagvenkar,
Book: Here, There and Everywhere; Author: Sudha Murty; Publisher: Penguin; Pages: 243; Price: Rs. 250
Before you pick up a copy of “Here, There and Everywhere”, do not confuse it with the famous Beatles’ song. “Here, There and Everywhere” is a collection of Sudha Murty’s best stories written over the years and across the many books she has published.
A philanthropist, entrepreneur, engineer, the book is a collection of vignettes of her observations and interactions with a cross-section of people across the country and in some cases beyond it.
Like in her other books, the simply-written anecdotes and the references drawn from them, are attempts at offering life lessons to the reader in an uncomplicated form.
But occasionally, the messaging does reveal a top-down tone of communication, with more than obvious traces of overbearing benevolence. And then, somewhere in the middle, Murty throws in a sexist shocker.
Take the narrative in the chapter “The Old Man and his God” for example, which is a recount of her travels to Thanjavur in Tamil Nadu on a rainy night, when the torrent forces her to stop at a temple for shelter, during which Murty converses with an old couple; an aging pujari and his wife. After the priest fulfills her request of offering a “mangalarti” to the deity, Lord Shiva, Murty offers him Rs 100, as against a tenner, which is biggest offering made at the temple. The old, wizened priest refuses to accept the big currency note, arguing that he values her (Murty’s) devotion over money, especially of a big denomination.
Murty then writes: “I was taken aback. I did not know how to react. I looked at the man’s wife expecting her to argue with him and urge him to take the money, but she just stood quietly. Often in many households, a wife encourages the man’s greediness. Here it was the opposite. She was endorsing her husband’s views.”
It is strange for a philanthropist and an award-winning writer to come up with such sexist generalisations, blaming wives for giving rise to greed in many households. This may take nothing away from her track record as a writer and the philanthropic interventions which have changed and touched a lot of lives. But it does betray the trajectory of thought, leaning away from feminism.
Each of the 22 chapters follows a similar pattern: an anecdote, which is interspersed and often followed by a simple analogy. The key to Murty’s success as a writer is the simple, understandable language, her easy choice of words and her larger than life persona But, you cannot just help but notice the fact that the overwhelming spirit of benefaction, scattered throughout the book appears, sometimes borders on the preachy.
(Mayabhushan Nagvenkar can be contacted on mayabhushan.n@ians.in)
—IANS
by admin | May 25, 2021 | Books
By Vikas Datta,
Title: 101 Things I Learned in Engineering School; Author: John Kuprenas (with Matthew Frederick); Publisher: Three Rivers Press; Pages: 216; Price: Rs 499
Nature is termed the best teacher. This is not only because our existence depends on striking concord, or at least a compromise, with it, but because in studying it, we find the fundamental inter-connectedness between us and the world we flourish in. And out of all academic disciplines, it is engineering that shows us how.
Prima facie, nothing could seem more distanced from the human condition than engineering, which is concerned with how to devise, design, build, run and maintain structures, machines, materials, devices, processes and so on by skillfully applying science and mathematics.
And then it needs years of intense study involving mastery over abstract concepts, difficult mathematical calculations and specialised knowledge of at least two basic sciences (physics and chemistry) and maths. But if we leave our preconceptions of engineering as highly technical subject, we will be surprised with the points of resemblance.
Force (or influence in human terms), pressure, stress, support, problem-solving, creative thinking, and so on are as important to human life as engineering, as experienced civil engineer and instructor John Kuprenas shows us in this lucid introduction to the principles of engineering and the mindset its practitioners need.
“Engineers view their profession as fascinating, creative, and full of interesting challenges. Those outside it often regard it as repetitive, mechanical and frustrating,” he observes, but notes that common to both views is that it is indeed complex.
Kuprenas, who lectures on the subject at the University of South California and California State University, Long Beach, and is Senior Vice President of the STV Group’s Construction Management Division, however recalls from his own experience that the intense grounding in mathematics, physics and chemistry in the initial years of the engineering course does not provide much “real-world context”.
It is this context he seeks to present in this engaging and insightful book of a 100-odd facts, principles and examples, which seeks to introduce engineering through its real-wold moorings “by emphasising the common sense behind some of its fundamental concepts, the themes intertwined among its many specialities, and the simple abstract principles that can be derived from real-world circumstances”.
Say, understanding the difference between accuracy and precision, what happens when force acts on an object, why there is always a trade-off, why some get stronger by doing more work, or when perfect reliability may not always be desirable — all these can well be applicable to the human condition too.
Then there are the some more “mysterious scientific” issues such as why buildings want to float and cars want to fly, or why keeping one hand in your pocket while touching an electric appliance may save you from a major shock, why some parts are designed to fail and why soldiers should not march on a bridge — as some non-science readers might remember from their obligatory physics classes.
Interspersed are some examples of the success or failure of various structures, mostly bridges, or products (largely US-centric though) which also provides a more tangible example of how engineering works — or doesn’t. Also offered, along with some splendidly evocative illustrations to all the 101 entries, are some interesting historical nuggets and some random hypotheses.
While Kuprenas mostly focusses on his field of civil engineering — which we learn is the oldest branch — with occasional forays into other branches such as mechanical, chemical or engineering, he lays the discipline’s basic thrust which is that “the heart of engineering isn’t calculation; it’s problem-solving”.
Also that while all engineers calculate, good engineers also communicate — and very cogently and persuasively.
With this, and more examples beyond the ones cited above, he goes on to show that engineering is not only meant to benefit humanity in its basic and other comforts, but closely approximates their own life, in both structure, influence and performance, to make the compelling case that “engineering events are human events”.
While this book may help engineering aspirants to understand what the field entails, and even some engineers might learn a thing or do, it is the curious lay reader it is directed at — and will prove to be a rewarding read in showing how things in our world are intertwined.
(Vikas Datta can be contacted at vikas.d@ians.in )
—IANS
by admin | May 25, 2021 | Books
By Vikas Datta,
Title: Points of Entry: Encounters at the Origin Sites of Pakistan; Author: Nadeem Farooq Paracha; Publisher: Tranquebar; Pages: 188; Price: Rs 499
In the mid-1950s, the screening of a Hollywood film in a Karachi cinema ended with the place getting trashed. Eventually, its exhibition had to be stopped for it continued to “cause riots”. On the face of it, it would seem an early example of the narrow-minded, destructive response of fundamentalist-minded Pakistanis towards the decadent West.
You could be excused for arriving at this conclusion — given the overpowering, grim narrative we are used to hearing about the country; but in the case of Pakistan, the answer frequently can be counter-intuitively surprising.
For, as columnist, cultural critic and historian Nadeem Farooq Paracha recounts, citing his mother who was also present during the “riot”, it wasn’t a protest but enthusiasm. The young men — and women — in the audience were so entranced by Bill Haley’s “Rock Around The Clock”, that they stood on their seats to “dance, whistle, hoot, shout, not realising they were wrecking the place” for the music made them “crazy”.
This is not the only example of the complex, multi-layered reality of Pakistan, for as he shows in these insightful and eye-opening essays, it is “more than the sum of its news-making parts” of fundamentalism and feudal mindsets, suicide bombings, the military-dominated polity, and so on.
Under these, particularly the murderous depredations of extremists seeking to foist a narrow, uncompromising view of a complex society, are overshadowed how the country also hosts the region’s oldest planned habitation, abiding memories of the world’s greatest conqueror, and the last resting place of a saint revered in two religions — under two names.
Then there are residents from the country which would eventually become its closest ally, and a vibrant musical scene, spanning folk to rock, which even flourished under a regressive and repressive military dictatorship.
And all these people, influences and memories, says Paracha, are equally important to find an answer to the question that has perplexed, and even haunted, the country since its creation and the vicissitudes it has subsequently faced: “What exactly does it mean to be a Pakistani?”
Posing this question against the backdrop of the two distinct but conflicting tendencies — theocratic and modernist — in Pakistani civic nationalism, he shows the geographical and cultural diversity of the new country (much like its larger, separated neighbour) made the state quite apprehensive — till 1973, when the third Constitution was adopted.
There was the fear that “this ethnic, religious and sectarian diversity would somehow negate the theory that had rationalised the emergence of a separate Muslim-majority country”, even though the Quaid-e-Azam had envisaged such a diversity to ensure a dynamic country.
Paracha goes on, with a mix of personal experience and the influences of internal and external political developments — the 1971 war with India, which halved the country’s size, the Zia-ul-Haq dictatorship and its Islamisation, the “War on Terror” and so on — on the interplay of the theocratic and modernist tendencies, allied to this diversity.
Beginning with a rather unique, but tellingly incisive politico-cultural timeline, spanning from June 3, 1947, when the British decided to bifurcate India, to 2018, he begins with an account of his own visits to Mohenjo-Daro, and why it has been neglected. He also adds how his companion’s lifestyle changed after a brief conversation with an old Sindhi guide there.
Paracha then goes on to sketch the continuing memories of Alexander the Great in the furthest limit of his quest to conquer the world — and how it affected another of his acquaintances, a meeting with Tibetan Buddhists, how eight-century Arab invader Mohammed Bin Qasim became the “first Pakistani” (and a section of Pakistanis’ indignant reactions) and so on.
Of most interest is how the cult of Jhuley Lal developed in Sindhi Hindus who had migrated to India, the genesis and modification of the subcontinent’s most famous qawwali — dedicated to Lal Shabaz Qalander of Sehwan, the history of Chinese residents of Pakistan, the Islamisation of “salwar-kameez” and the history of Pakistani film rock music and its off-screen avatar.
While these essays do portray a new idea of Pakistan, their value is also in the lessons they offer for other multi-cultural, multi-influence societies where efforts to create a reductionist history are underway — though the consequences are known.
(Vikas Datta can be contacted at vikas.d@ians.in)
—IANS
