Cover image for Throwing the elephant : Zen and the art of managing up
Throwing the elephant : Zen and the art of managing up
Bing, Stanley.
Personal Author:
First edition.
Publication Information:
New York : HarperBusiness, [2002]

Physical Description:
xxxiv, 201 pages : illustrations ; 19 cm
Format :


Call Number
Material Type
Home Location
Item Holds
HF5548.83 .B563 2002 Adult Non-Fiction Non-Fiction Area

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Provides humorous guidance that considers the advice of the Buddha as if he were a personal consultant, outlining how to transform a stressful workforce into one based on more effective, spiritual practices.

Reviews 3

Booklist Review

What Would Machiavelli Do? (2000) was Bing's successful, amoral satire on how to ruthlessly get to the top without guilt. Now he has taken the side of workers everywhere and applies the art of Zen Buddhism to the daily grind, all in a witty, lighthearted fashion. Comparing corporations to elephants, those giant, lumbering, smelly beasts that always get their way, he guides the worker --you--on how to become an elephant handler, mostly by staying out of its way and allowing your job to become a meditation, where ultimately whatever happens doesn't really matter. Through Bing's hilarious version of the Eightfold path (his has nine), you can transcend all want and desire at the workplace (where, as in life, desire is illusion and the source of all suffering) and ultimately create such lightness that you can throw the elephant. This is essential reading for anyone who hates his or her boss and the corporate structure in general. David Siegfried.

Publisher's Weekly Review

In a spoof of just about every career advice and management-by-metaphor book ever created, Bing (What Would Machiavelli Do?) delivers a Zen-like guide to managing your boss. The premise? Here's what Buddha would tell you if he were your personal career coach. A book juxtaposing faux-Zen advice with embarrassing corporate situations (e.g., how to handle a drunken boss) is almost guaranteed to be funny. Bing, "an ultra-senior officer at an elephantine corporation," has plenty of firsthand anecdotes to tell, and he supplements them with stories about some of the notoriously toughest bosses on the planet, like Martha Stewart and Citigroup's Sandy Weill. There are chapters on critiquing your boss ("any bitter pill of criticism one offers an elephant must be buried within a vast tub of cream cheese") and "facing the angry elephant" (when you're to blame for your boss's anger, "breathe deeply. Breath is life"). Despite the amusing anecdotes, though, Bing's narrative can become a bit wearying if one reads more than a couple of chapters in one sitting. However, if an employee only breaks out Bing's book when the elephant is having a particularly bad couple of weeks, enlightenment is certain. (Mar. 25) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Library Journal Review

Bing (What Would Machiavelli Do?) has written a clever book on how to manage elephants, a.k.a. bosses. According to the author, "only the power of Zen contemplation will result in a happy business life for the subordinate who yearns for understanding, control, and enlightenment. It is the practice of Business Zen that will enable you, in the end, after much trial and failure, to throw the elephant who is your boss." Through case studies and guidelines, Bing discusses steps to achieving control over the elephant, with such practical chapters as "Greeting the Elephant," "Rejoicing with the Elephant," and "Getting a Leash on the Elephant." Here, for instance, Bing's advice on greetings: "A quick handshake and formal greeting in an elevator is appropriate. A gushing invocation of lifelong admiration for the elephant is not." Witty and thought-provoking, this imaginative and unique work is recommended for public libraries and practitioners and students of business. Lucy Heckman, St. John's Univ. Lib., Jamaica, NY (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.



Throwing the Elephant Zen and the Art of Managing Up Chapter One The Four or Five Truths The incomparable lion-roar of the doctrine Shatters the brains of the one hundred kinds of animals. Even the king of elephants will run away, forgetting his pride; Only the heavenly dragon listens calmly, with pure delight. Zen text You only get what you are big enough to take. Jimmy Hoffa Jr. The ways to find one's way to Enlightenment are many. There is prayer and fasting, and some try that to great effect, but that road is severe, particularly to people with electronic scheduling software and a lot of business lunches as part of the general requirements of their jobs, not to mention drinks after work, and pretty soon fasting, if not prayer, is out the window. The Buddha was quite clear on this subject: if Enlightenment was reserved for those who don't have to work for a living, it would be a pretty unfair deal all the way around. The Buddha said it, and the scriptures make it clear over and over. In work lies Enlightenment just as surely as in wandering around in a bathrobe with a bowl of rice in one hand and a stick in the other. One need not remove oneself from the world to transcend it. One must use the tools that are put in one's path. Perhaps a tale might elucidate this point. One morning the Buddha stopped by a barbershop for a little touch-up. The barber was a voluble and philosophical fellow, as many of that profession tend to be, and he regaled the Buddha with a host of meaningless anecdotes and flippant observations in which the Buddha had no interest. At the end of an especially broad and runny river of drivel, Buddha closed his eyes and took one of those deep, cleansing breaths that afterward became such an important part of his teaching. The barber at last noticed this and set down his scissors thoughtfully. "Oh, Buddha," he said into the gigantic void that was parked, sighing profoundly, in the chair. "I notice that I have been speaking without stop for well unto twenty minutes and you have said not a word. Is there something you wish me to infer from this?" The Buddha smiled, and the Buddha's smile was indeed a beautiful thing to see, shedding radiance all over the place. "Yes, my friend," the Buddha said. "Your job is to cut my hair. My job is to sit and have it cut. You see how close to perfection we might be if we each accomplished our duty without distractions." The barber was immediately struck by the truth of this and miraculously said not a word for the rest of the haircut. Buddha got to read the new issue of Car & Driver and left a nice tip. You see? That's how it works. Everybody does what he or she is supposed to do without a lot of fuss and noise and emotion. Things get lighter. The lighter they get, the more enlightened you become. Pretty soon, nothing makes any particular difference. Except the work. In the tree, the nightingale sings; What else should he do? It takes but three To line the cooking pot! Bo Ho A.D. 342 A steelworker makes steel, and in that action lies his Enlightenment. An accountant loses himself in his rows of numbers and may thus find the pathway to his oneness with the Universe. For others, the road to wisdom lies in two frequent states of being: sitting and silence. Mostly in meetings. Sitting. And silence. Both are at the heart of Zen. They are also at the heart of the work we do. Think about it. We are in a meeting. We sit. We are silent. At times, true, there is a verbal duty for us to perform, so we speak. And then, others speak. And while they speak? We are silent. On our way to work, we sit on the train or in our car or we stand staring into the near middle distance like a cow in the field. We are going from here to there. What are we doing? Nothing. In that nothing lies everything. We receive our mail, both electronic and paper, throughout the day. While we evaluate and respond to it, we sit. We are silent. At times, true, others enter our domain and require speech or reaction from us, but when they are gone, we return to our task and while we do so? We sit. And are silent. We sit on a transcontinental airliner, traveling for four or five hours for a meeting whose meat will occupy perhaps ten or fifteen minutes. We stare out the window of the plane, trying to decide whether to watch the in-flight entertainment. We sit and are silent. Between planes, we watch the inescapable CNN feed on the television that is bolted to the ceiling. A portion of our minds is taken up with the interesting story of the dancing bear that was adopted by a family of Bosnian dwarfs. But inside, as we sit with less than 10 percent of ourselves engaged, somewhere within, we are silent. In that silence, there is liberation. There is peace. There is an end of desire, passion, and suffering. We read papers that will shape our destiny. The Wall Street Journal thinks our industry is spiraling down into the toilet. Our spirits rebel at what we read, be it newspaper, memo, or E-mail. Inside, we are a riot of feeling. But stop. Look within. Is there not something in there that really doesn't give a shit? Of course there is. In that place, there is silence. There is the Buddha. There is the answer to the management and control of elephants both large and small. Why, look. Here comes one now into our little corner of the village. "Owoooo!" It raises its trunk heavenward and lets out a trumpeting cry. Perhaps it dances around the area... Throwing the Elephant Zen and the Art of Managing Up . Copyright © by Stanley Bing. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Throwing the Elephant: Zen and the Art of Managing Up by Stanley Bing All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.