Can Cricket Captaincy Help With Museum Leadership?

For those who enjoy the gentler, slower, more somnolent things in life, the Cricket World Cup is currently underway in Australia and New Zealand. Obviously this is the game of choice for museum professionals. The Archbishop of Caterbury, William Temple knew the truth,

"Personally I have always looked upon cricket as organised loafing."

Could this be the reason I entered the profession?

For our American cousins, Robin Williams memorably described cricket as baseball on valium. I have never seen a game of baseball but it must be unbearably exciting.

When I was younger a game of cricket and a trip to a museum were similar - they both seemed to last forever and not much happened. A metaphor for my life in many ways. In recent years both museums and cricket have made valiant attempts to reinvent themselves to make themselves more attractive to younger and broader audiences. I don't yet see any evidence of cricket using museums for inspiration, but can we in the museum sector look to cricket for leadership tips?

Unceasing in my desire to enlighten you in the ways of museum management I have researched the wisdom of cricket captains to see if we can learn from the cerebral giants of the game such as Richie Benaud and Mike Brearley as well as the 'deeds not words' individuals such as Ian Botham.

Let's start with a quote from current England cricket coach, Peter Moores after his team's elimination from this world cup in the early stages,

"We'll have to look at the data." 

If your museum event has made a loss that has jeopardised the entire future of the organisation, liberally use this quote to sidestep taking the blame for poor decision making, selection policies and tactics. And like Peter Moores you will still be in a job. Anyway, enough of my bitterness and anger and move on to more positive matters.

What was Ian Botham's management style. Here is an earlier captain's (Ray Illingworth) perspective,

"Botham's idea of team spirit and motivation was to squirt a water pistol at someone and then go and get pissed." 

Most museum managers already slavishly follow the second part of the Botham manifesto, but I would think carefully before implementing the first part - particularly if you happen to be the curator of the nation's collection of Turner watercolours.

How about something a little more inspiring. The Maharaja Jam Sahib of Nawanagar, better known as Ranjitsinhji, played cricket for England at the end of the Nineteenth Century. A undoubtedly great batsman, the great cricket writer Neville Cardus described him as, "the Midsummer Night's Dream of cricket", I wouldn't mind my epitaph to be 'Here lies Frank Rason the Midsummer Night's Dream of museums'. Rather than the 'permanent nightmare' that I overheard my volunteers describe me in the tea room last week. Anyway Ranjitsinhji as both a cricket captain and ruler of an Indian princely state must have some insight.

"To treat a man as an automaton is the best way to make him one, and an automaton is precisely what is not required as a cricketer."

This should, and must, be applied to museum staff and volunteer management. We need museums to be full of life, character and stories. Leave automata to the Museum of Auotmata in York, encourage individuality and ideas and reap the rewards.

Revered Australian captain Richie Benaud had a realistic perspective on leadership,

"Captaincy is 10% skill and 90% luck, but don't try it without the 10%." 

This echoes Napoleon's,

"I know he is a good general, but is he lucky?"

You must have ability to succeed, but don't punish yourself too much if things go wrong, luck will always play its part. That's why I go to work with my four leaf clover, rabbit's foot and horseshoe.
For those of you are really concerned, consider broader cultural lucky charms (I understand in the USA you can buy lucky charms in packets - how simple is that? Do you know how difficult it is to chase a rabbit across a field with a meat cleaver?).

Apparently dolphins, pigs and turtles bring luck.  But the most symbolic animal for this blog is the cricket, a live one alerts when danger is near - keep one in your desk to warn when the chair of trustees enters the building - anyway I digress again.


I'll leave the last word with cricket captain and philosopher Mike Brearley,

"Cricket more than any other sport helps a person work through the experience of loss by virtue of forcing its participants to come to terms with symbolic deaths on a daily basis."

We in museums, who are preserving the past become acutely aware of the passage of time and our own fleeting mortality. We face death on a daily basis and that makes us strive to make people's lives richer and, more importantly, preserve the best of human existence for generations to come.

We may not be immortal but our profession is.