Category: Development

What if…..


….. Education Stops Educating?

I came across a post recently about Palantir that made me pause.

It quoted its CEO, Alex Karp, as saying that the company is no longer relying entirely on traditional university degrees to identify talent. Instead, young people are being given the opportunity to work on real problems, demonstrate what they can do, and learn by doing.

The post made a provocative observation: “The university had centuries to shape the best minds. Entrepreneurs will do it in a decade.” That stayed with me.. Because it raises a much more uncomfortable question: Have our educational institutions slowly forgotten what education is supposed to accomplish?

We teach children what to think. We rarely teach them how to think. We reward the right answer more than the difficult question. We celebrate memory more than curiosity.
We measure achievement through certificates rather than through the ability to see what others cannot. And then we wonder why so many highly educated people struggle to imagine a different future.

I realised that companies like Palantir are beginning to look beyond degrees. Young people are being given real problems to solve instead of certificates to prove that they are ready to solve them. It reminded me of something we seem to have forgotten. Perhaps education was never meant to manufacture employable people. Perhaps it was meant to create unmanageable minds. Minds that question. Minds that doubt. Minds that refuse to accept “this is how it has always been done.”

Perhaps the real crisis is not that AI will replace education. Perhaps it is that AI will expose how little education was actually about thinking.

As I closed the newspaper, the thought came to me. What if the future doesn’t need better educated children…… but freer minds?

— Rudra Bose, The Last Writer of Kolkata

Are We Trying to Change People — or Energise Them?


During one of my courses, I was discussing the idea of “Energising” with a participant when he suddenly asked me a question that stayed with me.

Participant: “But isn’t our job to make people change? If we can see what they are doing wrong, shouldn’t we tell them?”

Me: “Perhaps. But let me ask you something. How do you feel when someone tells you that you are wrong?”

Participant: “Defensive, usually.”

Me: “And what happens when someone believes in you, even when you are struggling to believe in yourself?”

He paused, then replied, “I suppose I become more willing to try.”

That, I believe, is the difference between changing someone and energising someone. We often try to bring about change through criticism, pressure, fear or even guilt. It may work for a while. But it rarely creates lasting change. At best, it makes people comply. At worst, it makes them doubt themselves. Energising is  quite different. It is not about pushing someone towards the destination we think is right. It is about helping them discover the energy and courage to move towards the destination they want.

As we continued our conversation:

Participant: “So, what does an Energiser actually do?”

Me: “Sometimes, very little. You listen. You create possibility. You help the person see what they cannot yet see in themselves. And when the moment comes, you say something as simple as, ‘I know you can do this.’”

Participant: “But can words really make such a difference?”

Me: “Words matter. But what matters even more is the energy behind them. People can feel whether our encouragement is genuine or merely convenient.”

We have all experienced it. One person walks into a room full of enthusiasm and somehow the room feels lighter. Another walks in carrying anger or cynicism, and the atmosphere changes without a word being spoken. Perhaps leadership, coaching and even relationships are less about transferring instructions and more about transferring energy.

And perhaps the most profound question we can ask ourselves is not: “How do I make this person change?” but: “How can I help this person find the energy to change?”

Because when people are pushed, they may move. But when they are energised, they move with conviction. And that is when change becomes their own.

In musing…… Shakti Ghosal

#learning, #energising, # leadership, #coaching, #mentoring,

When Leaders Rise, do they lose sight of those below?


I happened to read a thought provoking piece on Friedrich Nietzsche and a quote of his in Times of India. It led me to ponder on the Leadership in the Political and Organisational arenas we see today…..

“The higher we soar, the smaller we appear to those who cannot fly.”

Friedrich Nietzsche wrote these words in 1881. They were never meant to suggest that those who rise are superior to those who remain on the ground. Nietzsche was speaking about perspective—the strange way in which distance changes how we see one another.

But I wonder whether there is another, more uncomfortable lesson hidden in those words for leadership.

Whether in politics or in organisations, leaders often begin their journey with the trust, hopes and aspirations of the very people they lead. Success follows. Power increases. The circle around them becomes smaller, more selective and increasingly insulated.

And something subtle begins to happen.

The leader starts seeing the world from a higher altitude. The people below start seeing a leader who is increasingly distant. This is where the slow deterioration of faith begins.

A view from above

Employees who once felt heard begin to feel ignored. Citizens who once believed begin to question. Honest feedback gets replaced by carefully filtered information. Dissent is interpreted as disloyalty. The leader hears more applause and less truth. Ironically, the higher the leader rises, the greater becomes the need to remain connected to the ground.

Leadership is not merely about vision, achievement or the ability to soar. It is about ensuring that people can still see you, trust you and speak to you when you are up there.

The danger is not success. The danger is success without humility.

Political leaders need to remember that electoral victory is not a permanent certificate of public trust. Corporate leaders need to remember that business success does not automatically translate into employee loyalty. Both are temporary mandates, renewed every day through credibility, fairness and connection.

Perhaps the real test of leadership is therefore not how high we can rise, but how many people we can take with us—and whether, while rising, we remain capable of listening to those who are still on the ground.

Leaders must deliberately create spaces where uncomfortable truths can travel upwards. They must reward candour rather than compliance, dissent rather than sycophancy, and substance rather than applause.

Because once people stop believing that their leader understands them, they may continue to obey.But they stop believing. And when belief disappears, authority may survive for a while.

Leadership does not.

The challenge before every leader, therefore, is simple but profound: **Rise. Achieve. Soar. But never become so distant that the people who helped you rise can no longer reach you.**

In musing…….               Shakti Ghosal

 

Has Gen Z Become Less Intelligent—Or Are We Measuring Intelligence the Wrong Way?


The recent discussion surrounding the reversal of the Flynn Effect has generated understandable concern. For nearly a century, psychologists observed a remarkable trend: each successive generation appeared to outperform its predecessor on IQ tests. Better nutrition, improved healthcare, expanded education and increasingly complex environments seemed to produce steadily rising cognitive performance.

Now, according to research presented by Dr. Horvath before a Senate Committee in January 2026, that trend appears to have reversed. Generation Z is reportedly the first generation in modern history to register a decline in average IQ compared to those who came before it. Researchers have also noted reductions in reading comprehension, sustained attention and memory performance.

If these findings are robust, they deserve serious attention.

But before concluding that an entire generation has become “less intelligent,” perhaps we should ask a more fundamental question.

What exactly are we measuring?

An IQ test is not a thermometer that measures intelligence in the way a thermometer measures temperature. It evaluates performance across selected cognitive domains—logical reasoning, pattern recognition, verbal comprehension, working memory, processing speed and spatial reasoning. These were chosen because they were believed to predict learning ability, productivity and success in an industrial and later knowledge-based economy.

That assumption itself deserves scrutiny.

Every civilisation defines competence according to the challenges it faces. The skills that made an exceptional engineer in the 1970s (That was my generation!) are not identical to those required of an AI architect today. The competencies that distinguished an outstanding accountant thirty years ago are very different from those needed in an age where algorithms perform much of the routine analytical work.

Perhaps intelligence itself has not declined as much as it has changed its centre of gravity.

Today’s young adults navigate digital ecosystems with remarkable ease. They process multiple streams of information simultaneously, learn unfamiliar software intuitively and adapt rapidly to technological change. These abilities are not trivial. Yet traditional IQ tests may capture only a small part of this emerging cognitive landscape.

This is not an argument for dismissing the reported decline. Reading comprehension, sustained attention and memory remain foundational human capabilities. Civilisations are built upon the ability to think deeply, read patiently, remember accurately and reason independently. If these capacities are genuinely weakening, the consequences could be profound.

But neither should we confuse what is measurable with what is meaningful.

Throughout history, societies have periodically redefined excellence. Education evolved. Work evolved. Technology evolved. It would be surprising if our understanding of intelligence remained frozen in time.

The reversal of the Flynn Effect may therefore be asking us two questions instead of one.

The first is whether some essential cognitive abilities are indeed declining.

The second—and perhaps the more important one—is whether the very framework through which we define and measure human intelligence is keeping pace with a world that is changing faster than at any previous point in history.

The future may not belong to those with the highest IQ as traditionally measured. It may belong to those who combine analytical thinking with creativity, adaptability, emotional intelligence, ethical judgment and the wisdom to know when technology should assist the human mind—and when it should never replace it.

In musing……. Shakti Ghosal

The Promise We Break Most Often


The strongest form of accountability isn’t to your boss. It’s to yourself.

I still remember a conversation with a young manager many years ago. He had walked into my office carrying a notebook filled with plans.

“I don’t understand myself,” he confided, almost apologetically. “Every New Year I make a list. I promise myself I’ll exercise regularly, read more, spend time with my family, learn a new skill…” He then smiled sheepishly. “By March, I’ve broken most of those promises. Even though I had genuinely meant every word when I wrote those goals.”

I laughed at that. “So have millions of others. Including myself when I was your age.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Tell me,” I asked, “if your Managing Director asked you to submit a report by Monday, would you?  Or if your biggest customer expected you at a meeting at ten o’clock?” Or if your child was waiting for you at the school annual function?”

“Of Course! I would do all of those and on time.”

I smiled, “So you’re very good at keeping promises.”

He looked confused. “No,” he replied. “I just told you I’m terrible at it.”

I reassured him, ” I would say you’re excellent at keeping promises to other people. You just struggle to keep promises to your own self.”

He looked at me for a long moment before quietly admitting, “I’ve never thought about it that way.”

Well to be frank, neither had I, until years earlier when someone had challenged me with the same question. The truth is, most of us don’t lose confidence because we fail. We lose confidence because we repeatedly break our own word.

Every time we say to ourself, ‘I’ll start tomorrow,’ and tomorrow becomes next week… Every time we promise ourselves, we’ll make time for our health, our family, our learning or our dreams… and then quietly move them to the bottom of the list…

Something invisible starts happening. Our self-trust begins to erode. Others may still trust us. Our colleagues may admire our reliability. Our clients may praise our commitment. But somewhere inside, we begin to doubt ourselves. Not because we lack ability. But because we’ve stopped believing our own promises.

I came out of my reverie with a start; my colleague was looking at me thoughtfully. “So, accountability isn’t really about someone checking up on me?” he asked.

I shook my head. “That’s compliance. Accountability is much more personal. It is choosing to become someone whose word matters—even when no one else is listening.”

As he stood up to leave, he closed his notebook and smiled, “I think I’ve been writing goals. What I really needed was to start keeping promises.”

That conversation has stayed with me ever since. The older I grow, the more I realise that confidence is not built through motivational speeches or inspirational books. It is built quietly. One kept promise at a time. Perhaps that is why integrity is such a powerful word. It doesn’t begin with how faithfully we honour our commitments to others. It begins with how faithfully we honour the commitments we make to ourselves.

Because the person listening most carefully to every promise you make… is you.

In musing…..                                            Shakti Ghosal

#accountability, #Integrity, #selfpromise, #goalkeeping

Beyond Resilience: Some Reflections on India’s Economic Story


I found the Chief Economic Adviser’s article on the subject both reassuring and well argued. It reminds us that India’s economy today is certainly stronger than it was during earlier crises. Better macroeconomic management, diversified energy sources, healthy foreign exchange reserves and timely policy interventions have undoubtedly made us more resilient.

Yet, as I finished reading, I was left with a few thoughts.

The first is that we should be careful not to confuse resilience with invincibility.

This particular crisis ended before it could become truly prolonged. Oil prices eased, shipping stabilised and global markets regained their footing. Had the conflict continued for another few months, the pressures on inflation, fiscal balances and household budgets would have been much harder to manage. Good policy deserves credit, but so does good fortune.

Secondly, the article understandably highlights the role of government.

 Equally deserving of recognition, in my view, is the quiet transformation of Indian industry. Over the past decade, businesses have learnt to diversify suppliers, manage inventories better, hedge risks and adapt far more quickly than before. Much of India’s resilience today rests as much in its boardrooms as in North Block.

The article also reminded me that our biggest vulnerabilities remain largely unchanged. We continue to depend heavily on imported crude oil, fertilisers, semiconductor components and several critical minerals. These are strategic dependencies that no amount of short-term policy management can fully offset.

Perhaps the most important takeaway, however, lies elsewhere.

The Gulf conflict is unlikely to be the last major disruption we face. If anything, geopolitical tensions, climate events, cyber risks and technological disruptions are becoming the new normal. The question, therefore, is not whether India can survive the next crisis. It is whether we can prepare for it before it arrives.

That, to me, should be the next chapter of India’s economic story.

We need to move beyond resilience and build anticipation. Greater energy independence, stronger manufacturing capabilities, lower logistics costs, globally competitive skills and deeper investments in future technologies will matter even more than crisis management. Equally important is developing the ability to think in scenarios rather than forecasts—to prepare for multiple possible futures instead of assuming that tomorrow will resemble yesterday.

The article rightly celebrates how far India has come. I would simply add that the journey ahead will demand a different mindset. The winners of the next decade will not necessarily be those who recover fastest from shocks, but those who see them coming first and are ready before everyone else.

That, I believe, is the real opportunity before India. It is no longer enough to be resilient. We must become anticipatory.

In musing….. Shakti Ghosal

The Most Important Person You’ll Ever Lead


‘Leadership doesn’t begin with managing people. It begins with understanding the person in the mirror.’

I recall a conversation of several years back.

It was late evening and I was preparing to go home. Hearing a knock, I looked up to see a colleague standing outside my glass door, smiling. He was one of the bright managers from our Supply Chains division. As I gestured him to a chair, I sensed something was on his mind. After the usual pleasantries and how things were going at work, I asked what I could do for him.

“Sir, while I seem to be doing okay at work based on the feedback of my Divisional Head, deep down I fear I’m failing as a leader,” he blurted out.

” Hmm! That’s a strong statement,” I replied. “What makes you say that?”

He sighed, “I am trying to be a better leader. I’ve read leadership books. I keep trying new leadership techniques…… but somehow I feel a sense of inadequacy and a lack of being authentic.”

Pondering over what I had just heard, I asked, “When was the last time you studied yourself?”

My colleague frowned. After a few moments he admitted, “I don’t think I ever have.”

“You know,” I said, “most of us believe awareness means noticing what’s happening around us. For instance, the market. Our competitors. Our customers. Our bosses. We become experts at observing everyone else’s behaviour. We know exactly what our colleagues need to improve. We notice the habits holding others back. We can often predict how someone else will react in a meeting. But ask us why we react defensively to criticism… why certain conversations drain our energy… why we repeat the same mistakes… and suddenly the answers become less clear.”

He looked at me for a few moments before replying, “So you’re saying I’ve been looking in the wrong direction?”

“Not the wrong direction. Just one direction.”

Looking out of the window, he said softly, almost to himself, “I’ve been trying to model myself on people I’ve admired.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with admiration,” I said. “The problem begins when admiration turns into imitation. We can borrow someone’s ideas. We can learn from someone’s experience.  But we can never build our leadership by becoming a copy of someone else’s story.”

There was a silence. Then the colleague asked quietly, “So what does awareness really look like?”

I realised that we were now entering the deep end of our conversation. I said, “It is knowing your strengths without becoming arrogant. Recognising your weaknesses without becoming discouraged. Understanding your patterns before they begin to define you.”

I concluded by saying, “It is having the courage to ask not, ‘How do I become like them?’ but ‘Who am I becoming?’“

As my colleague got up to leave, he paused at the door and said, “I’ve spent years trying to improve my leadership. Perhaps I should spend more time understanding the leader.”

The conversation stayed with me. The older I grow, the more I realise that personal growth rarely begins with learning something new. More often, it begins with seeing ourselves a little more clearly.

Self-awareness is perhaps the only mirror that becomes clearer the longer we are willing to look into it. Leadership is not the journey from ignorance to knowledge. It is the journey from unconsciousness to awareness. Because the greatest breakthroughs in life seldom come from changing who we are. They come from discovering who we have been all along. Perhaps the most important meeting you will ever have is not with your team, your boss, or your client. It is the quiet conversation you have with yourself.

Is that meeting long overdue?

Reflections…..                                 Shakti Ghosal

Age is just a number


As I have gone through life , I have found some folks proudly  wearing their age ( and the wisdom that flows from that) like a badge. And others, using a curious phrase  ( which incidentally became fashionable) : “Age is just a number.”

Perhaps. But I have often wondered why some people feel compelled to repeat it so often. The calendar is not the enemy. The years do not diminish us. They simply tell a story.

Yet many of us seem desperate to negotiate with time. We shave a few ( and sometimes a little more!) years off our age, boast of being sixty when we are actually seventy, or cling fiercely to an image of ourselves that belonged to another decade. As we try to convince ourselves and others.

Why?

Maybe because age reminds us of something we would rather not confront. That the world is passing us by and we fear missing out. That life is finite. That some doors have closed. That our bodies have their own timetable. That one day we will have to hand over the baton to others.

The strange thing is that wisdom was never meant to compete with youth. A banyan tree does not apologize for not being a sapling. A river does not pretend to be a mountain stream. Both possess a different kind of beauty.

Perhaps maturity begins when we stop treating age as an accusation and start treating it as an achievement. After all, growing old is not a failure. It is a privilege denied to many.

The question is not whether age is just a number. The question is whether we have learned to wear our years with grace.

In musing …..            Shakti Ghosal

The Forest We Never Fully See


About a year back, I happened to sit at the lunch table with one of the participants of a Leadership workshop I was conducting. Let us call him Arun.

As I tried to engage him in a polite conversation, I found him to be withdrawn and seemingly lost in some other thoughts. When I enquired about this, he blurted out, “Professor, I was trying to relate what you said in class to my interaction with a colleague. Every time we discuss a new project, she starts asking so many questions. By the time she’s finished, we’ve lost momentum.”

I asked, “What would you say makes her do that? Is it something she perceives about you?”

Arun smiled, “Probably that I move too fast.”

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“Could it be that both of you right?” So saying, I took out my pen and drew a rough sketch on a piece of paper.

“Imagine a large forest,” I said. “Now imagine two people standing at different windows overlooking that forest. One person sees a waterfall. The other sees a mountain trail. Both are describing the same forest. But neither is seeing the whole picture.”

Arun leaned forward, “So you’re saying that’s what happens at work?”

“Every day,” I said. “We often assume that because we share an office, a company, a language, or even a country, we share the same perspective. But we don’t.

Each of us arrives at work carrying years of our very own specific experiences, beliefs, successes, disappointments, cultures, family influences and personal values. We may be looking at the same challenge. But we are never looking from the same window.

Arun was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “So when I think she’s slowing things down, she may think she’s reducing risk.”

“Exactly.”

Arun nodded slowly, understanding dawning on his face, “And when she thinks I’m rushing, I may simply be focused on opportunity.”

The conversation shifted. We stopped talking about who was right and started talking about what each person could see that the other could not. That’s when something interesting happened. The earlier uncertainty seemed to disappear, curiosity taking its place.

I have noticed that many workplace conflicts begin with a simple assumption: “If I see it this way, everyone else should see it this way too.”

But diversity is not simply about nationality, gender, age, language or background. It is about perspective. It is about recognising that another person’s life has given them a view of the world that is different from ours. And that can be valuable precisely because it is different. The irony is that organisations spend enormous amounts of money searching for innovation, yet innovation is often hiding inside the perspectives we dismiss too quickly. If everyone in a meeting thinks the same way, the discussion may be comfortable. But it is unlikely to be transformative.

Before we left, Arun said something that stayed with me. “You know Professor, I spent the entire time of our interaction trying to convince her to look through my window. Maybe I should spend more time looking through hers.”

That, perhaps, is the real gift of diversity. Not that it makes agreement easier. But that it makes understanding deeper. The world does not need more people defending their windows. It needs more people willing to explore the forest. And every time we replace judgment with curiosity, comparison with appreciation, and certainty with learning, the forest becomes a little larger than we imagined.

What if the next breakthrough in your life is waiting in a perspective you have not yet taken the time to understand?

In musing……                                                     Shakti Ghosal

The Day Strength chose Silence


I paused when I saw this photograph.

A tiger—nature’s embodiment of power—lying quietly on the face of the Buddha. What struck me was not the contrast, but the harmony.

As we grow older, many of us spend years trying to get rid of our inner tiger. Our anger. Our ambition. Our ego. Our restlessness needs to prove ourselves. But perhaps wisdom is not about killing the tiger.Perhaps it is about teaching it to rest.

The tiger is still there. The strength is still there. The fire is still there. But it no longer needs to bare its teeth at every passing challenge.

I have met people who were gentle because they were weak. And I have met a few who were gentle because they were strong enough to choose peace.The second kind are rare.

Looking at this image, I was reminded that the real journey is not from power to powerlessness. It is from power to self-mastery.

When the tiger learns to rest, the Buddha smiles.

In musing……         Shakti Ghosal