Week 23 (2010): Bogdan’s Fear of Flying

Bogdan was my colleague when I worked in Poland.

He was not tall. But when you looked at his bald head and hefty physique, you could easily think of him as a bodyguard, or a character from a James Bond film. During conferences, whenever he made presentations wearing his tinted glasses, we thought we were watching Bruce Willis in action.

Bogdan could be outspoken. Unlike many Polish managers, he was a businessman by nature.  His views and actions would have been the same were he the owner of the company, rather than an employee. And these views he often expressed fearlessly, in open forums. I was his boss, but often became a target of his anger or displeasure when our viewpoints didn’t match. Nonetheless, I liked him. He was a rational person. He represented strength and solidity.

“I’m nominating you for the ‘Account Management’ meeting in London next month.” I told him once.

“No, I can’t go. I’m very busy.” He said.

“It’s only for a day – on a Friday. If you don’t wish to take a weekend in London, you can fly in the morning there and fly back the same evening.” Bogdan’s family lived in the South of Poland. He rented for himself a small apartment in Warsaw. On Friday evenings, he drove at unlawful speeds to reach his town. The big jobs were in Warsaw – the capital.

“These one-day meetings are a waste of time,” Bogdan said. “I can be far more productive here.”

“Look, I think this one will be useful. They want one person from each European market. You’ll represent Poland.” With those words I thought I had closed the discussion.

“What’s the date?” Bogdan asked.

I told him the date of the meeting in London.

“Sorry, I’ve to take an off that day. There is an important family function to attend.”

Bogdan took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. That was his way of avoiding meeting mine. I stared at him without saying anything. When the awkward silence filled the room, Bogdan looked at me and grinned, his expression similar to that of a thief caught in the act of robbing.  

“Ok, I’ll be honest. I can’t. I can’t go because…because I’m scared of flying.”

“What?”

“I’m scared to death at the thought of flying.”

“You’ve never flown?”

“Not since the time I can avoid it.”

“But… you went for that Amsterdam conference…”

“Yes, I drove there. You remember I had taken a day off before…” Bogdan took out a handkerchief and wiped the front of his bald head. “If I must go to London, I can drive all the way and then take a ferry or something. You must allow me a couple of days.”

“This is ridiculous, Bogdan. No, no, I don’t want you to drive…. You’ll drive for four days to attend a meeting lasting four hours.”

“Thanks, Ravi.” He said. “For your understanding.”

“Well, I’m not withdrawing your name. I want you to fly to London. Shut your eyes on the flight. Listen to music. If you become sick, the planes have paper bags. Once you start flying….”

“No. I’ll become sick before and won’t be able to fly. Why don’t you send someone else?”

“Bogdan, but you are the “National Key Account Manager”. Why should I send someone else, when you are the person who’s required there?”

“Look Ravi, I’ll go when the conference is in Germany. I’ve driven to Germany often. And there are no speed limits on the autobahn. I can drive very fast.”

“You know Bogdan, the way you drive… that’s far more dangerous than flying.”

Bogdan didn’t go to London. I lost the argument that day. Well, there was nothing to argue about. Bogdan was not as rational a person as I thought he was. I learnt later that others in the company knew about Bogdan’s phobia, and laughed at it.

In British American Tobacco, every competent manager was classified into ‘Lister’ (meaning someone with the potential to progress further in career) and ‘Asset’ (meaning someone good for their current level but unlikely to progress higher).  The company invested considerable efforts in training and development of listers. Bogdan was a lister.

“I may have some good news for you.” I told Bogdan. This was at least a year after Bogdan had refused to go to London. “I’m talking to you informally at this stage.”

Bogdan’s face brightened.

“The company is considering sending you abroad for six months. To get exposed to the trade marketing practises at Souza Cruz.” Souza Cruz was the Latin American arm of BAT. The Latinos were the most advanced in sales and distribution.

“But Souza Cruz is in South America.” Bogdan said.

“Yes. We’re talking about Brazil. Yes, yes, I know… I know… you have to fly…” I saw Bogdan’s face flushing. “…but just two times. Once there and once back, after six months. That’s a small price to pay for such an opportunity.”

Bogdan smiled and shook his head.

“You know, Ravi, Brazil is much farther than London.”

“Listen Bogdan, the company thinks you have a potential for promotion.  They’re willing to invest in you. Six months in Brazil is no joke. Do you want to know the number of candidates from Europe who were keen to take up this assignment? We’ve managed to get this secondment for Poland after a fight.”

“You saw what happened on 11^th September, didn’t you?” (I think we were talking two or three months after the 11^th September.)

“Listen Bogdan, plane crashes appear terrifying because of the way television shows them, newspapers report them. If you look at the number of planes flying…” I started scribbling on the white board in my room. In places like Chicago and Frankfurt, flights land and leave every minute. I took that as a base, and started writing numbers rapidly. To show the astronomical number of flights that don’t crash. “You see, Bogdan,” I continued, “Statistically, flying is the safest. The probability of your flight crashing is negligible, almost zero. I can get you the official data. I fly three or four times every month. Look, here I am, after so many years of flying. You are now what, 39; you must get mature at some stage. This is part of your leadership competency, how to get rid of your irrational fears. You’re such a rational person otherwise. I don’t understand how you can ignore all the statistics. And 11^th September was a terrorist attack. The first of its kind. Hopefully, we won’t see anything like it again. Anyway, when you refused to go to London last year, 11^th September hadn’t happened. So that’s only your new excuse.”

“Please drop me from the list. Give any excuse you wish. I don’t want to go to Brazil.”

“But your fear is completely irrational, Bogdan. I’ve never seen a senior manager like you sacrificing his career because of such childish nonsense. This way, you won’t be able to move on in this company. Or any other company.  You may even risk your job. You’ll not go very far.”

Bogdan shrugged his shoulders. He shook his head again and left my office. I didn’t know what to do. The whole world was flying, and here right under my nose I couldn’t persuade a competent grown-up man to accept the opportunities offered on a platter. I thought I should recommend downgrading him from “lister” to “asset”, but what reasons should I mention? Writing Bogdan’s fear of flying as justification looked as absurd as that fear itself was. He should have treated himself with hypnotherapy or medication, or these days you have simulators that give you a flying experience. But I don’t think we discussed any of that. At work, I was his colleague and boss – not a psychiatrist.

In 2002, I left Poland and moved to England. Two years later, I received an email from Bogdan asking me to write a reference letter for him. He had left BAT, and after a year-long frustrating job with some distributor, was on the job market again. I wrote to his potential employer a well-worded letter pointing out Bogdan’s business acumen and rational decision-making. Bogdan sent me a thank-you mail. This was a Polish company, and Bogdan wouldn’t need to cross any seas, I thought.

Then I lost touch with him. Once you move countries, it becomes difficult to keep writing to your former friends and colleagues. That relationship and warmth get frozen in some corner of your heart. I checked for “Bogdan Grzegorczyk” on facebook, but didn’t find him. I was not surprised. He didn’t look the type who would waste his time on facebook.

I also had no idea if he overcame his flying phobia, whether it hampered his career – until I received an email from Zbigniew this week. Zbigniew had worked with Bogdan and me in Poland.

“Not sure if you heard this. Bogdan Grzegorzyk died in a plane crash last week.”

I kept staring at the computer screen for a long time. Bogdan had, after all, overcome his fear and agreed to fly. But, that fear of his was not irrational.  

Ravi

P.S: Until last month, Bogdan, now 48, worked as an “Export Sales Director” with “Kanlux”. On 31 May, he was part of a delegation flying to Germany in a private plane. The plane crashed killing all three passengers and the pilot.

http://www.kanlux.pl/en-UK/

(You can see Bogdan’s picture (center) at this link.)

A funeral mass will be held for Bogdan tomorrow, on Saturday, 12 June. 

Adieu Bogdan, how I wish now that you were loyal to your phobia.  

R.