Disclosure_ A Novel - Michael Crichton [80]
“I’ll bet Garvin has no idea what she’s doing to him,” Sanders said.
Dorfman shook his head. “I’m not concerned about Garvin,” he said. “I’m concerned about you, Thomas, and this outrage of yours—hmm?”
“I’ll tell you why I’m outraged,” Sanders said. “Because this is the kind of sneaky shit that a woman can pull but a man can’t. She changes her appearance, she dresses and acts like Garvin’s daughter, and that gives her an advantage. Because I sure as hell can’t act like his daughter.”
Dorfman sighed, shaking his head. “Thomas. Thomas.”
“Well, I can’t. Can I?”
“Are you enjoying this? You seem to be enjoying this outrage.”
“I’m not.”
“Then give it up,” Dorfman said. He turned his wheelchair to face Sanders. “Stop talking this nonsense, and face what is true. Young people in organizations advance by alliances with powerful, senior people. True?”
“Yes.”
“And it is always so. At one time, the alliance was formal—an apprentice and master, or a pupil and tutor. It was arranged, yes? But today, it is not formal. Today, we speak of mentors. Young people in business have mentors. True?”
“Okay . . .”
“So. How do young people attach themselves to a mentor? What is the process? First, by being agreeable, by being helpful to the senior person, doing jobs that need to be done. Second, by being attractive to the older person—imitating their attitudes and tastes. Third, by advocacy—adopting their agenda within the company.”
“That’s all fine,” Sanders said. “What does it have to do with plastic surgery?”
“Do you remember when you joined DigiCom in Cupertino?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“You came over from DEC. In 1980?”
“Yes.”
“At DEC, you wore a coat and tie every day. But when you joined DigiCom, you saw that Garvin wore jeans. And soon, you wore jeans, too.”
“Sure. That was the style of the company.”
“Garvin liked the Giants. You began to go to games in Candlestick Park.”
“He was the boss, for Christ’s sake.”
“And Garvin liked golf. So you took up golf, even though you hated it. I remember you complained to me about how much you hated it. Chasing the stupid little white ball.”
“Listen. I didn’t have plastic surgery to make myself look like his kid.”
“Because you didn’t have to, Thomas,” Dorfman said. He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Can you not see this point? Garvin liked brash, aggressive young men who drank beer, who swore, who chased women. And you did all those things in those days.”
“I was young. That’s what young men do.”
“No, Thomas. That’s what Garvin liked young men to do.” Dorfman shook his head. “So much of this is unconscious. Rapport is unconscious, Thomas. But the task of building rapport is different, depending on whether you are the same sex as that person, or not. If your mentor is a man, you may act like his son, or brother, or father. Or you may act like that man when he was younger—you may remind him of himself. True? Yes, you see that. Good.
“But if you are a woman, everything is different. Now you must be your mentor’s daughter, or lover, or wife. Or perhaps sister. In any case, very different.”
Sanders frowned.
“I see this often, now that men are starting to work for women. Many times men cannot structure the relationship because they do not know how to act as the subordinate to a woman. Not with comfort. But in other cases, men slip easily into a role with a woman. They are the dutiful son, or the substitute lover or husband. And if they do it well, the women in the organization become angry, because they feel that they cannot compete as son or lover or husband to the boss. So they feel that the man has an advantage.”
Sanders was silent.
“Do you understand?” Dorfman said.
“You’re saying it happens both ways.”
“Yes, Thomas. It is inevitable. It is the process.”
“Come on, Max. There’s nothing inevitable about it. When Garvin’s daughter died, it was a personal tragedy. He was upset, and Meredith took advantage of—”
“Stop,” Dorfman said, annoyed. “Now you want to change human nature? There are always tragedies. And people