The Pope Francis charm school

Some critics say that I, Eccles, am occasionally rude and insulting. I don't see it myself, but then I came across the following advert and couldn't resist.

A chance to brush up my skills!

The course started badly, as one of the assistant tutors, Fr Müller, was not present. "He's at Mass, Holy Father," explained an aide.

"Drag him out!" shouted the Pope. "God is used to being kept waiting, but I AM NOT."

He then went on to explain that the New Ways Ministry had recently given him an award as the most humble pope since Alexander VI, and he was confidently expecting the Freemasons to award him the Order of the Golden Moose for services to humility. So we could certainly learn from him!

"A drone! With a radar attachment to detect neo-Pelagians and zap them!

A Jesuit in a rainbow cassock wandered in, smoking a strange-looking cigarette. "Hey, man, is this the Coccopalmerio?" he asked, and promptly fell over. A fellow-student explained to me that "Coccopalmerio" is slang for a particular type of party, although he did not give details.

Meanwhile, the Pope had taken advantage of the break in the proceedings to fire one of his cardinals. In fact, he said "Off with his head!" but it was unlikely that things would be taken that far, and the Swiss Guards would simply break one of his legs. This is what "mercy" means!

Pope Francis concluded his course by explaining that, no matter how charming you were, you could easily be misunderstood. For a Jesuit, this is not a problem, of course, but he showed us a tweet from one of his most loyal sycophants.

This is not gloating, this is mercy.

"Unfortunately Ivereigh couldn't attend today's class," he said, "which is a shame, as he could learn a lot from it."

What a pity there isn't some sort of organization that could give training to Catholic commentators such as Austen, so that they could express themselves clearly and avoid being misunderstood!

Leading with humility

Thanks to @JoaoMMXIV for drawing my attention to the book "Lead with humility", by Jeffrey A. Krames, which is subtitled 12 Leadership Lessons from Pope Francis. I haven't actually got the book, but I have a fairly good idea of what it should contain.

Can we have a Year of Humility next time, please?

Well, dear reader - Mr Heep, say - as a humble person you won't have put yourself forward for a leadership role, but don't despair, someone else will "fix it" for you. In the old days it might have been Jimmy Saville, but he's rather gone out of favour recently (and, anyway, is dead), so you may have to settle for getting a specially-constituted Team Heep to promote your case. Have a word with Cardinals Cormac Murphy-O'Connor or Godfried Danneels, and see whether they can help.

If all goes well, you will become the managing director of the Lancaster branch of the Acme Drainage Company (motto: Protect the Pipe), and be the proud possessor of a "Cormac fixed it for me" badge.

Now, how does a truly humble leader behave? Well, start by making your office look more humble. Throw out all the comfy chairs in which visitors used to sit, keeping just one for yourself. That aspidistra plant had better go, too: a humble leader should settle for a wilting dandelion. Make it known that you have given your bed at home to the poor, and that from now on you will sleep in the dog's basket. For food, avoid Dolan's All-you-can-eat Restaurant: a humble plate of Fish and Chips (in Italian, "Fisichella") will be much better for you.

Available to any poor person who wishes to collect it.

So far we haven't addressed the questions of leadership, which, in your case, means getting your own way without seeming to do so. There are various ways to achieve this: one is to come out with a blizzard of insults, confusing and contradictory statements, and plans which you know can never be implemented. When you do so, remind people that your words are being uttered in a spirit of humility and mercy. You could even install a "window of mercy" in your office, so that when you get annoyed with staff and defenestrate them, they can realise that it is being done very humbly.

Dilbert's boss embraces the Spirit of Pope Francis.

Another humble way to lead your company is to announce changes to company policy in a less direct way. For example, every time you take an aeroplane trip, you could stand up and make a speech outlining a batch of controversial changes (e.g. from now on, all staff must turn off the central heating in their offices, to prevent climate change) - check with the cabin crew before doing this.

Or you could float new company policy in interviews with 100-year-old deaf-mute journalists who don't speak your language too well; or you could get a trusted member of staff (the technical name is a gasper, one who emits hot air) to float the silliest ideas that he can imagine. Having totally confused and terrified your employees, you may then return to the office and humbly do whatever it was you planned to do all along.

When King Küng attacks, only a humble person can respond.

Finally, a good catchphrase you might adopt is "Who am I to judge?" The answer being, that you are the boss, and you will judge whenever you feel like it... humbly, of course. That's what leaders do.

How to be a Good Pope

Since it is quite likely that two or three of my readers will end up as Pope one day, it would be helpful to give them some advice how to behave themselves. Otherwise, like a certain Argentinian who must remain nameless, they will go down in history as "A Good Man, but a Bad Pope."

Pope Alexander VI. A Bad Man but a Good Pope. Possibly.

O.K. So the conclave is over, and Team Thargoglio (a bunch of dodgy cardinals who really ought to have known better) has managed to get you elected. Choose a papal name appropriate for the dignity of your office: so "Pope Custard" is out, but so are "Pope Judas" and "Pope Pontius", even if these are Biblical names. I suggest you choose a previous pope that you greatly admire (perhaps not Peter, as that would be a bit too cheeky), and become the next in line: Pius XIII, John XXIV, Benedict XVII, according to taste. Or you can choose a saint's name that hasn't been used before, e.g. Pope Bosco, but it is a little eccentric.

The same goes for Pope John Vianney, alias Pope William Hartnell.

Now, popes are supposed to maintain a tradition that goes back two thousand years, so DON'T rush to change things. You may not like red shoes, but wear them, as they have a significance that you may not have been told about. Don't go and live in some weird place where popes have never lived before, e.g. a simple cardboard box in the catacombs beneath the Vatican: it may give you a reputation for humility, but it may also give you a reputation for being difficult.

A humble pope.

Likewise, if the papal chef is offering to cook you a Lobster Thermidor aux crevettes with a Mornay sauce, garnished with truffle pâté, brandy, and a fried egg on top, and Spam, then it is very rude to slope off down to "Il Nosho de Sid", the Vatican café, for a plate of pasta. Even if it makes you look like "one of the lads".

"The chap in white - haven't I seen him on the telly?"

Now popes are supposed to be above petty politics, so don't rush to reward your friends, or to punish your enemies. Saying to a distinguished Cardinal, "Look, Ray, we're having a three-week 'bring a heresy' party next October. All your craziest pals are coming - Cupich, Wuerl, Dolan - but you're not invited" is just rude.

This self-help guide needs to broken up into two or more pieces, so I'll stop there. Just remember, Pope Innocent - or whatever - that you are not there to rewrite doctrine, or to push your favourite theory (whether it's climate change, homeopathic medicine, or the belief that the world's economy is being manipulated by dinosaurs from outer space). Stick to Christian teaching wherever possible, OK?

"Could you direct me to the Stock Exchange, please?"

Oh, and DON'T give impromptu interviews to journalists. They're not to be trusted.