The culture of any organization can seem immutable to those within it. That is certainly the case in higher education. Many colleges, like many organizations of all stripes, tend to view their cultures as almost sacrosanct, as though they can never, will never, and should never change. I know I lost out on several university dean jobs when, during my interview, I offered observations of culture and the need to innovate. I even had a slideshow on the subject to support my presentations to faculty and staff. People would nod along with my ideas, but I was told more than once that my so-much-as-mentioning change or innovation was too “scary” for people.

What is the point of regret?

To make heads or tails of regret, we will have to differentiate regret from guilt. Guilt has to do with past action or inaction we had some choice or informed agency over whereas regret refers to past action or inaction that we could neither predict nor control.

So, properly understood, regret has to do with consequences from past action or inaction that we had no control over and cannot correct. In this way it has much in common with its counterpart, worry.

Who is the best boss you ever had? What made that person such a good boss?

I am lucky in that the best boss I ever had was actually quite a good boss. I am unlucky in that — even taking into account my teenaged years — the contest for the best boss I ever had was not particularly competitive.

Death is the mother of beauty.

Wallace Stevens

Steven’s observation is in line with the Stoic concept of momento mori, a practice in which the contemplation of mortality leads to greater appreciation of that and those which we value.

Cocks everywhere, the little dictators of our lives. We wear them on our wrists, consult them on our phones, and squint up at them as they tower over our towns. Think about it. A clock of all things, Big Ben, is one of the most potent symbols of Great Britain. And don’t get me going about Prague.

I want to differentiate critical thinking from what I call “thinking hard.” Both critical thinking and thinking hard require a degree of smarts and effort, but only critical thinking is rigorous in the truest sense of that word.

This one is on effective oral and written communication, but what I offer are not rules. They are more like guides, mere suggestions, helpful hints, noodgy nudges, and the like. After all, rules just beg to be broken. For instance, consider my personal rule that I don’t write listicles. So take that, rules!

The human species is both blessed and cursed with an impressive power of recall. Recall allows us to review the past, searching for wins to replicate and losses to learn from. When we contemplate the present and future, sequences — the order of things — are difficult to ascertain or predict with any accuracy, but in scanning the past we can often easily see connections that escaped us at the time. We may notice that action B resulted from action A or that more activity in this particular venue at a particular time would have prevented this particular outcome. The power of recall is an important and mostly positive skill, but recall can also cripple us with regret and the subsequent need to overcompensate in future endeavors.

The great Mississippi Delta bluesman Robert Johnson (1911-1938) was a revolutionary guitarist with a wicked way with words. While he still has a living stepsister who published a captivating memoir last year, much is not known about his life and death. Johnson’s prodigious musical powers in combination with his short life and enigmatic biography have naturally generated much lore, one tale being his visit to the crossroads.

Have you ever worked with a liar? I mean someone who just could not resist the urge to exaggerate, fabricate, fib, and prevaricate throughout the day. I am not talking about someone who has a diagnosable condition that compels them to lie. Nor am I concerned with someone whose grasp of reality is so tenuous that they cannot distinguish it from fiction. I mean someone who chooses to lie so much that it becomes almost an instinct, a mindless habit, like nail biting or Facebook.