There was no analysis of FC 170, yet there was no paralysis of comments. I got quite a few and some relatively long, which I have abridged, albeit reluctantly.
A lady who I prefer not to name sent a confessional of sorts. She said, “My husband often gets into analysis paralysis, and as if to compensate for that, I make impulsive decisions.”
Tarun Kunzru says: The complexity of options slows down the process and can almost freeze decision-making. The disruption of the immediate future is uncomfortable compared to the comfort of 'now'. In corporate life, some people have paid the price for the right hard decision they took and how their successors benefitted from it. In strategic matters, it's good to aim aim aim and then shoot. In day-to-day operations, it's sometimes OK to shoot and then aim!!
Shereyar Vakil says: Dear Pras, another fine and pertinent article. Most corporates wrestle with the concept of paralysis through analysis. Expecting a committee to make decisions more often than not creates confusion. I have always felt that a camel is a committee's version of a horse.
[When the opinions of committee members diverge significantly, it becomes difficult to formulate a coherent consensus. This notion has been humorously expressed with a clever adage: “A camel is a horse designed by a committee.”]
The Whole Nine Yards
This phrase takes me back to my growing up days in Mysore when all the women in our house, including my mother, aunts, and grandmother, wore, every day, 9-yard sarees referred to as Madisar.
It is believed that the Madisar saree, worn by both Iyer and Iyengar women, has existed for as long as one can go back in time. Iyer kattu and the Iyengar kattu (kattu meaning ‘to tie’) differ in one crucial way: Iyers drape the Pallu (the layer of sari which comes over one's shoulder) over the right shoulder, while Iyengars wear it over the left shoulder.
Of course, over time, the 9-yard saree has been replaced by the 6-yard saree. Madisar is now worn on occasions like festivals, marriages and other ceremonies. Before my readers give up reading this post on the assumption that it is all about sarees, let me fold that and keep it away. (folding a Madisar can be quite daunting)
Most of you knew Mathew Perry, who passed away recently. He was one of my favourite characters in the hugely popular tele-series “The Friends”. Ironically, when he died at a very young age, he was alone in a hot tub and not surrounded by friends. He acted as a mild-mannered dentist in a film called “Whole Nine Yards”, a crime comedy released in 2000. (If you are a Matt Perry fan, you can watch this movie on Netflix.)
The post is not about the film or Mathew Perry. It is about the phrase ‘the whole nine yards’, which stands for ‘going all the way’ or for ‘everything, the whole lot’. This phrase was first used in a comedy story, ‘The Judge’s Big Shirt’, as a punch line when the Judge finds that the tailor has used up all nine yards of cloth to make one oversized shirt.
Another explanation given to the birth of this phrase is that it refers to the nine-yard-long ammunition belt on World War II fighters. When a pilot had exhausted his ammunition, he would say he had shot off the whole nine yards. This theory is no longer considered viable since the phrase predates World War I.
The phrase is relevant to our commitment to achieving something that requires much effort. You are familiar with the expressions ‘pull all stops’, ‘beyond the call of duty’ and ‘walk that extra mile’. Going the whole nine yards is about going to the furthest extent possible to satisfy your or someone’s expectations of you. To give someone ‘the whole nine yards’ means you’re pushing through all barriers to make it happen.
You don’t have to look far to appreciate the import of this phrase. All parents, irrespective of their financial or societal status, go the whole nine yards to ensure their children get the best education and emotional security. Whether the children reciprocate by going the whole nine yards to excel in their academic and working lives depends on their desire to make their parents proud or be achievers for their own good.
I have been in the corporate world for the best part of my life. I have worked with people with fire in their bellies who broached no hurdles and pushed themselves to get the desired outcome. As the saying goes, “When the going is tough, the tough get going”. Walking the whole nine yards is difficult, particularly if it is all uphill.
I am not sure how many of you may have seen the movie ‘The Green Mile’ starring Tom Hanks. I have seen it, and I recommend it to you. The reason for referring to the ‘green mile’ is to show how hard it can sometimes be to go the whole nine yards. Green Mile is a symbolic expression of the distance that a death row inmate walks before he is executed on the prison grounds. The prisoner experiences heart-wrenching agony as he drags himself or is dragged to face execution.
In some instances, walking the whole nine yards can be akin to walking the green mile. Take, for instance, a young person who has a terminal illness could have the mental resolve to do whatever it takes to ensure he gets every possible chance to stay alive. He walks the whole nine yards, staring in the face of death. The agony and grief that he experiences would be no different than that of a prisoner walking the green mile.
We are today living in cities that have excellent metro rail systems. Yet a section of the people do not feel incentivised to take the trouble viz walk the whole nine yards, to get to the station and walk again from the station at the other end. This creates an interesting nexus between nine yards and ‘last mile connectivity’. I often hear people complaining that they cannot use the metro for want of connectivity. For them, connectivity could be a shuttle bus service at either end or a designated place near the departing station to park their vehicles or electric two-wheelers, which are transforming last-mile connectivity.
There is no gainsaying the fact that all of us, in one context or another, would be required to walk the whole nine yards to achieve something or help someone achieve his or her objective. The task gets more challenging with each yard, but one has to persist. People who participate in athletics and other competitive games realise the importance of giving all they have to make a mark. It may be interesting to know that ‘The Whole Nine Yards’ was a Tennessee Walking Horse stallion who won his breed's World Grand Championship in 2003. It makes horse sense to walk all the nine 🙂
I hope the readers are sold on the significance of the whole nine yards. Please do let me have your comments. I am ending this in a lighter vein by sharing a narrative I got from Raman in the context of FC 170. Here it is:
A 40-year-old bachelor was determined to marry a widow. Very laudable.
To assist in this quest, his well-intentioned parents and friends diligently presented four prospective matches, each embodying a different combination of his desired traits.
The first candidate was highly educated, a widow, and undeniably beautiful—except for one minor detail: she wasn't employed. Rejected.
The second contender, a working professional and a widow, failed to meet the academic standards—another rejection.
The third, a widow with an impressive educational background and a thriving career, somehow missed the mark in the looks department. Once again, rejected.
And then there was the fourth, a beautiful, highly qualified, and career-oriented woman. But not a widow. Rejected.
His exasperated friends and well-wishers offered a tongue-in-cheek solution: “Why not marry the fourth girl and leave the responsibility of making her a widow to us?”
Until next week, take care and be safe. Ciao!
Makes for a very well written light read 👌👌🌹👍👍
I should have added that you missed the connection between madisar mamis and filter coffee!