Al was a training manager in a multinational company. In a previous existence he had been a chemical engineer.

Al was an extraordinarily well-organised person. His tolerance for ambiguity and uncertainty was abnormally low. This meant that, over the years, he had adopted certain rigid disciplines designed to keep chaos at bay. For example, he always wore the same clothes on fixed days of the week – a blue shirt on Mondays, fawn on Tuesdays, white on Wednesdays and so on. He always drove exactly the same route to work, leaving home at exactly the same time each morning. He always took a one-hour lunch break, between 13:00 and 14:00, during which time he ate sandwiches prepared by his wife and read The Times, obituaries first, letters second, leaders third, and finishing off with the quick crossword.

He adhered to identical, well-worn rituals when preparing to run a course (a major part of his job). He had detailed checklists of all the handouts in chronological order of use. Each was two-hole-punched so that course participants could file them in the ring-binders Al prepared for them – each with the correct number of dividers and each with a label on the cover showing the person’s name. Visual aids received the same loving care. Take it from me, this man was highly organised!

One of the odd things he used to do when running a course was to blow a shrill blast on a whistle whenever he wanted to command attention –like a scoutmaster or a football referee. In the opening session of each programme he ran, Al would demonstrate the whistle and solemnly explain its significance. It meant, he would tell an incredulous room full of young managers, that when they heard the whistle, they must stop doing whatever they were doing and listen to him!

One of the programmes A1 ran from time to time used outdoor activities. At prescribed intervals throughout the course participants had to sit in quiet reflection and write a learning log entry. The learning log invited them to focus on a recent experience, describe what they had learned from it and indicate what they were going to do differently in future. Al explained that this was a mandatory requirement and that two blasts on the whistle would herald a period of reflection and that, after exactly 15 minutes (Al also carried a stopwatch) a single blast would mean that normal life could resume. If during the 15-minute period anyone dared to speak, or do anything other than think and write notes in their logs, then Al would extend the period for reflection by adding on whatever time had already elapsed.

Theoretically, this meant that reflection time, once started, could last for ever. Naturally, no one wanted this to happen, so compliance with the ‘no speaking/no doing’ rule between blasts on the whistle was understandably high.

Somehow, in the outdoor environment under open skies and surrounded by fields and trees, the whistle came into its own! It didn’t seem quite so absurd as it did when inflicted on people within the confines of an ordinary classroom. Course participants could be spread over a hillside, or abseiling down a rock face, or in the middle of assembling a raft from oil barrels, planks and ropes, only to stop in their tracks when they heard the fateful two blasts on Al’s whistle.

Conversation would cease, out would come learning log booklets, people would look suitably reflective, chew on their pencils and make the occasional note.

So long as participants were totally compliant during the 15-minute periods, Al was not in the least interested in what was being recorded in the logs. Nor did it ever occur to him to keep any sort of log himself.

Three days into one particular course, a young manager met with an accident and had to be carried off to hospital with a broken leg. Not surprisingly, he left his ring binder of handouts and learning log booklet behind. When his colleagues turned the pages of his log they discovered that he had filled it with entries such as:

‘What a waste of time this reflection bit is. I’ll just have to look as if I’m doing it until the time limit is up.’ And, ’If brains were taxed, this whistle blowing maniac would qualify for a rebate.’ And, most tellingly, ’I’d do anything to escape from this learning log caper, short of breaking a leg.’

It seems that, on further reflection, he had decided that breaking a leg was a worthwhile sacrifice!