Media Management: A Casebook

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CONTENTS

Preface to the Fifth Edition ix

Introduction: Preparing for and Using
the Case Method xvii

CHAPTER 1 Leadership1
CHAPTER 2 Motivation25
CHAPTER 3 Workforce53
CHAPTER 4 Entrepreneurship77
CHAPTER 5 Planning and Project Management 101
CHAPTER 6 Innovation133
CHAPTER 7 Market Analysis 169
CHAPTER 8 Marketing and Research 209
CHAPTER 9 Law, Regulations, and Ethics 267
Extended Case Study 1: Changing Leaders
and Direction in Dallas/Fort Worth 309
Extended Case Study 2: Solving Crises
at South Asian Entertainment 347

References377
Author Index 399
Subject Index 405
This page intentionally left blank
PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION

The fifth edition of Media Management: A Casebook Approach repre-

sents a new approach and focus, manifested by the change in leadership
and approach to writing the book. Those who write media management
books typically serve in management positions, meaning their demanding
jobs require them to give up old tasks, such as writing this book. Thus we
bid a fond farewell to Steve Lacy and Ardyth Sohn, two of the original
authors. We are proud to add Wilson Lowrey to the team, whose research
includes a variety of media management topics and issues including
blogs, online news, the Internet, and convergence. His contributions are
welcome additions to this edition. Ann Hollifield, George Sylvie, and Jan
LeBlanc Wicks remained on the authorship team. On this edition, we also
had the assistance of an extremely talented editorial assistant, Stephanie
Stevens, a graduate student at the University of Georgia.
In the few short years since the publication of the fourth edition,
dramatic changes have overtaken media industries. The trends toward a
decline in print media and an increase in multiplatform media, digital and
mobile distribution of content, social media, and social marketing have
accelerated, while entirely new types of media such as location-based con-
tent have emerged and gained traction in the market and social media has
established itself as a serious content provider in competition with more
traditional media forms. Even more importantly, a major restructuring
of media labor markets occurred. The Great Recession of 2008 spurred
legacy media companies to dramatically cut their permanent workforces
through layoffs and attrition and increase the number of contract and
freelance workers they hire. The changing nature of media employment
combined with the opportunities made possible by new ideas and new
technologies have created a wave of media entrepreneurship. This edition
actively engages these changes in both discussion and cases.
x PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION

We also took a new approach to writing the book. Ann and Jan
served as co-first authors to bring two perspectives to all chapters and
revisions, viewing the book through the eyes of a media management/
economics/media in economic development lens, along with an adver-
tising and integrated branding/social issues/self-regulation lens. Future
media managers must consider problems and solutions from a variety
of viewpoints and have expertise in a number of areas. We felt it was
important to take a multidiscipline perspective in writing and revising
the book as well. We collaborated with Wilson and George to present a
fifth edition that retains the coverage of major management concepts and
research while introducing new technologies, new types of media mes-
sages, entrepreneurship, and international issues to the book. As ever, we
seek to join the important knowledge from the past to the future knowl-
edge needed by our students.
While the fifth edition is significantly changed from the fourth edi-
tion, important concepts are retained. Chapters that were kept but sig-
nificantly revised include Leadership, Motivation, Planning, Innovation,
Market Analysis, Marketing Research, Law, Regulation, and Ethics, and
two completely new Extended Cases. The chapter on decision making
has been folded into the Leadership chapter. Similarly, the discussion of
workforce issues, which was included in the Leadership chapter in the
last edition, has now been given an entire chapter of its own. The Work-
force chapter will allow professors and students to more thoroughly
engage in discussion of media career paths in the new industry envi-
ronment and the challenges of managing an increasingly multicultural
and impermanent workforce. The Planning chapter has been revised to
include a strong focus on project planning and management because, in
the try-fast/fail-fast business environment of today, media content, busi-
ness, and technological innovations are often developed through struc-
tured projects. The Global Media Management chapter was eliminated
as a separate chapter and folded into Planning because overseas expan-
sion often is managed as a project. Finally, we developed a new chapter
on Entrepreneurship in recognition of the fact that many of our students
will eventually start their own media companies—or be charged with
developing entrepreneurial projects within established companies.
A few major themes permeate the fifth edition. We examine how
managers must constantly adapt, obtain quality information, and be
entrepreneurial and flexible in the face of new situations and technologies
that cannot be predicted and change rapidly in national and international
settings. Nowadays the title “media manager” refers to roles ranging
from the CEO of a media conglomerate to director of a small agency
 PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION xi

with a handful of employees to the sole proprietor of a for-profit blog, a

technology startups, or your own business as a freelancer. Regardless of
the scope of his or her media operation, a media manager today must be
a leader, visionary, negotiator, operations manager, supervisor of human
resources, trainer, expert in promotions, public relations, marketing and
branding; and knowledgeable not only about content production and
distribution, but also about audiences and audience behavior. Finally, he
or she must be able to apply all that to domestic markets, overseas mar-
kets, or some combination of both. On top of all that, the entrepreneurial
manager also needs skills in finance and investor or donor management.
Consequently, we address the topics above as well as social media,
other new forms of media messaging, change, entrepreneurial journalism,
and international topics and issues. We emphasize current trends in man-
agement to allow professors and students to consider both established
theories and new concepts in management and apply both to contem-
porary and changing problems faced by media managers. The empha-
sis on entrepreneurship throughout the fifth edition provides conceptual
and skills training in self-sufficiency and initiative, which future leaders
in the field must have, especially if they start their own media outlets
or firms. The emphasis on international topics and examples through-
out this edition reinforces the importance of diversity found in this and
earlier editions, while adding research and issues regarding international
management.
Here is a short summary of the perspective each author had in each
chapter.

CHAPTER 1—LEADERSHIP
Understanding leadership and having leadership skills is imperative for
media professionals in a global labor environment where more work is
done via freelance or temporary contracts, or in one’s own media startup.
A manager must be able to manage and strategize for oneself, as many
work outside the structure of a formal organization, so more senior and
experienced leaders will not be there to help. Although there are many
different leadership approaches and styles, true leadership depends on
vision and the ability to adapt your style and approach to the character-
istics of the people around you and the situation in which you find your-
self. Even young professionals provide leadership in the turbulent digital
market and competitive environment, participating in change manage-
ment due to their new ideas and approaches, creativity, and lack of orga-
nizational socialization as to “how it should be done.”
xii PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION

CHAPTER 2—MOTIVATION
It is especially important to understand how to motivate employees dur-
ing turbulent, uncertain times where traditional media jobs are disap-
pearing, many employees freelance or manage their own jobs or outlets,
many positions are converged whereby professionals must use varied
skills and knowledge in multiple formats, and digital technologies mean
a local outlet now has an international audience. The modern employee’s
search for positive self-identity and the increasing levels of exhaustion
that convergence have wrought make the manager’s job more challeng-
ing and uncertain than ever before. Managing in media involves analyz-
ing complex human behavior in evolving positions and situations, often
produced in rapid cycles by creative personnel who enjoy autonomy. The
major theories and concepts regarding motivation are retained, while
current examples and research include the changing media industries,
diversity, gender, technology-employee match, teams, and convergence in
a recession.

CHAPTER 3—WORKFORCE
Media work has always been rife with uncertainty, but recent economic tur-
bulence and technological changes have made the environment especially
precarious for workers, who have been faced with fewer traditional jobs,
many new specialties and converged roles, stagnant salaries, and a need to
pursue entrepreneurial opportunities. The traditional, stable, routine work
that dominated media fields for decades is harder to come by. The data on
emerging labor trends in media markets suggest that career tracks in media
are changing and that media managers will need to adjust in response to
those changes. Managers need to be flexible and seek diversity in their hir-
ing, keep an eye on change while not neglecting their operation’s core, and
be sensitive to burnout—both in workers and in themselves.

CHAPTER 4—ENTREPRENEURSHIP
The odds of success for entrepreneurs are long, but they can suc-
ceed if the entrepreneur finds a supportive and collaborative—even
familiar—environment, and plans rigorously. Being in the right place, at
the right time, with the right amount of money, the right background
knowledge, and the right business connections can be more valuable
than having a “light bulb” moment. Well-defined niches, collaborative
relationships, and diversifying revenue streams are important to success-
ful entrepreneurships. Working as an entrepreneur includes taking new
 PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION xiii

perspectives: For example, rather than focusing solely on financial pay-

offs, it can be extremely satisfying just to be in control of your work.

CHAPTER 5—PLANNING AND PROJECT MANAGEMENT

Planning is a synonym for strategic planning, the central focus of man-
agement research and training. Planning includes long-term, mid-range,
and short-term planning. In today’s turbulent business environment,
planning has become more difficult and even somewhat risky. In media
companies, however, an increasingly important area of planning is proj-
ect planning and management. Media innovations, new products, and
even major content productions such as films, albums, and video games
are created as “projects.” Overseas expansion or investment also is often
managed as a project within media companies. In the digital media envi-
ronment, global expansion is frequently critical if a company is to keep
control of its ideas and content. But once a company crosses national
borders, management becomes an even more complex and challenging
process. Challenges range from cultural differences in content preferences
and tastes to varying national laws and policies.

CHAPTER 6—INNOVATION
Media industries have and will continue to change rapidly, so one must
understand how to manage and promote innovation in national and
international markets. Managers must determine how well an innovation
serves its purpose, its effect on the people who use it, its strategic rami-
fications so one’s organization may take full advantage of it, as well as
what the next innovation will be or when and how each innovation may
be replaced to ensure the long-term health of one’s organization. In other
words, leaders provide a strategy for adopting an innovation and the
vision to inform and shape the strategy. Beyond organizational factors,
media managers must consider and attend to consumers’ opinions of
innovations, whether they are local, national, or international consumers.
Consequently, the chapter covers classic and contemporary research on
innovation and includes branding, the audience as information searchers,
and international examples of innovation.

CHAPTER 7—MARKET ANALYSIS

In an age of hyper-competition, independent production, and media
entrepreneurship, understanding market analysis is a required skill for
xiv PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION

every media employee. Market analysis is the ability to understand what

your product is, who your audience/customers are, what their needs
are and why they use, or don’t use, your content/product. It also means
understanding who your competition for those audiences/consumers is
and what they offer as a substitute for what you offer. Contemporary
media professionals also must understand that they are products in the
media labor market; thus market analysis skills are key to positioning
oneself in the desired labor pool. Media professionals must constantly
and consciously analyze the talents and skills they offer compared to
their competition, and actively construct themselves as a media talent
“brand” that an employer can successfully market in order to attract and
retain customers.

CHAPTER 8—MARKETING AND RESEARCH

A strong grounding in marketing and research is fundamental to a suc-
cessful media entrepreneur or professional who changes jobs over a
career. You cannot successfully define your own or your organization’s
benefits and sell them effectively unless you understand how advertisers
and marketers evaluate products. You cannot obtain quality information
on your product or audience unless you understand the appropriate ways
to answer various questions and develop projects to obtain that informa-
tion. While the chapter introduces students to major research concepts
and the major types of research, it also addresses analytical techniques
used by advertisers, trends, and resources for learning ethical research
standards.

CHAPTER 9—LAW, REGULATIONS, AND ETHICS

It is simply not enough to understand the legal aspects of media firms and
media management. Certainly major legal concepts, issues and trends
regarding diversity, gender equity, social media, and digital devices are
reviewed in the chapter. But ethics and law are presented as interrelated:
Laws define what a manager must do, and ethics defines what he or she
should do. Media professionals operate in the court of public opinion, so
a manager’s integrity and reputation transcend any one position. Entre-
preneurs who start media outlets must develop and maintain trust and
respect among their communities, markets, donors, advertisers, employ-
ees, and audiences. Ethics, moral reasoning, and media ethics codes are
discussed to show future managers how to develop their own ethical
beliefs, behaviors, and standards.
 PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION xv

EXTENDED CASES
The extended cases encompass all chapters as well as the major foci of
this edition: entrepreneurship and global management.

Extended Case Study 1: Changing Leaders and Direction in

Dallas/Fort Worth
Extended Case 1 allows professors and students to analyze and apply
all the chapters and major concepts of the book. EC1 also enables stu-
dents to learn and use entrepreneurship skills, one of the major foci of
this edition, in many of the ways they would if they were developing or
repositioning a startup. Students also learn how to find and use quality
and relevant information to make important decisions associated with
entrepreneurship. In essence, EC1 teaches students to consider all key
managerial functions and activities across one firm, to provide a compre-
hensive understanding of how one outlet functions. The goal is to teach
students what is involved in developing, running, and funding a startup.

Extended Case Study 2: Solving Crises at South Asian

Entertainment
Extended Case 2 allows professors and students to tackle serious crises
in an international setting. The primary manager in the case is the senior
manager of a “small,” fictitious conglomerate located in one region,
South Asia. However the “small” South Asian Entertainment is part of a
large, worldwide fictitious conglomerate, Vizcacha International. There-
fore, students must consider problems from the perspective of a senior
regional manager, who supervises other managers who run other firms or
media outlets encompassed by that regional firm, yet answers to the over-
all top manager of the entire media conglomerate. In addition, cultural,
political, and interracial issues are raised in the context of local, regional,
and worldwide firms. In essence, EC2 teaches students to consider major
managerial functions and activities across several firms of varying sizes
in different countries, and how problems in one firm affect others in the
same media conglomerate. The goal is to educate students about vari-
ous cultures and countries while appreciating the perspective of a top
manager facing personal and professional crises across several firms and
countries.
In our rapidly changing and expanding world of media, we believe
that every media professional is, by default, a media manager. As media
enterprises large and small innovate, restructure, and struggle to find
xvi PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION

business models that will allow them to survive in an increasingly frag-

mented and competitive market, every member of the organization will
need to understand the media business and actively strategize ways to
succeed. That’s the very definition of management. Some say that the
media industry is in crisis. We believe that every crisis creates new pos-
sibilities. We hope you will find this fifth edition of Media Management:
A Casebook Approach a valuable and thought-provoking addition to
your exploration of the extraordinary challenges and opportunities that
await.
INTRODUCTION

Preparing for and Using the Case Method

A case study tells the story of a problem or problems to be solved based

on actual events or decisions concerning firms and managers, or a com-
posite of various events or problems, in an industry. In case analysis,
students assume the role of the manager or managers featured in the case
to learn about situations they are likely to face on the job. It is especially
suited to disciplines where theory, research, and principles are applied in
the real world.
The case method allows students to (a) gain experience in making
decisions and solving problems; (b) learn to identify, analyze, and research
complex problems; and 3) integrate theory and prior knowledge to life-
like situations (Chandy, 2004). Hoag, Brickley, and Cawley (2001, p. 52)
said that the case method of experiential learning “stimulates the same
skills managers use: analysis with intuition, integration, decision-making,
self-initiative and persuasive communication.” Zbylut, Brunner, Vowels,
and Kim (2007) said the case method allows students to apply theory or
abstract lessons to the concrete situation described in a case, stimulates
critical and creative thinking, and provides a glimpse into real-life situa-
tions from the safe and controlled structure of a classroom.
Zbylut et al. (2007) reported that the discussion component of case
method instruction is important, as the question–and-answer process
encourages students to actively participate in the learning process. Dis-
cussion of case concepts compels self-examination and evaluation of the
arguments of others, triggers a reflective process requiring students to
reevaluate and reorganize their views, encourages students to process the
case material at a deeper level, and develops interpersonal and communi-
cation skills. The professor “facilitates group discussion to elicit specific
points, challenge student assumptions, and engage in problem-solving
and analytical skills” (Zbylut et al., 2007, p. 1). Participating in multiple
xviii INTRODUCTION

case discussions over the course of a semester can help students learn
about the advantages and disadvantages of group decision making and
its processes (Preparing an Effective, 2005b).
Aylesworth (2008) said when students and teachers discuss cases
effectively, the managerial techniques and knowledge from the case are
learned and internalized by students. “A good case discussion is indeed a
partnership between the students and also between the students and the
instructor, in which all the players strive together to reach not only a reso-
lution of the case issue, but also a shared understanding of the ‘lessons’ of
the case. It is in the effort to find that resolution and shared understand-
ing that learning occurs” (Aylesworth, 2008, p. 107).
Students accustomed to lecture classes must learn that the case
method requires extensive reading, preparation, and discussion on their
part. Students’ work in case method courses is evaluated in terms of the
quality and quantity of contributions to case discussions; simply talking
is not enough. Students must offer relevant contributions using indepen-
dent thought based on material in the case. Rather than saying “I think,”
“I believe,” or “I feel,” students should learn to think and respond objec-
tively, saying “My analysis shows” (Preparing an Effective, 2005b, p. 1).
The goal is to use logic and reason to solve management problems, rather
than relying on emotions or feelings.
Learned (1980, in Christensen, 1987, p. 13) suggested students could
prepare to discuss or write about a case by answering the following ques-
tions about it. Students are asked “why” they answered the way they did,
which encourages them to dig for the underlying logic and reason:

1. “What, in your opinion, is the most fundamental, crucial or

urgent issues or problems—or issues and problems—before the
company? Why do you think so?
2. “What, accordingly, if anything, should anyone do? Who? When?
How? Why do you think so?
3. “How will you communicate your ideas to the top management
of the company? Why?”
(Learned, 1980, in Christensen, 1987, p. 13)

Often professors may expect more extensive preparation from stu-

dents. The following suggestions from Foran (2002), Wertheim (2006),
and Preparing an Effective (2005a, 2005b) are integrated to provide a
more rigorous method for students to read a case and prepare for class:

1. Read the case once to get a quick sense of the whole case. Then
read it again and consider steps 2 through 7.
 INTRODUCTION xix

2. Identify the who, what, where, when, and how of the case. Who is/
are the important decision maker(s)? What is the major problem
and/or decision to be made? Who are the important persons in
the case? Why? What is the background and important informa-
tion about the firm? What are the key issues in the case? What
important information is lacking? If you could ask questions of
the case’s main characters, what would you ask?
3. Define the problem(s). Where is the problem and why is it a prob-
lem? What type of problem is it (e.g., group, leadership, moti-
vation, etc.)? Which chapters in this book address the type of
problem? How urgent is the problem? What are the consequences
if the problem isn’t solved? What information is lacking that is
needed to help solve the problem? Find and list all indicators in
the case that something is wrong or not as desired or expected.
Distinguish between symptoms and the problem. Symptoms are
indicators of problems that reveal something is not as it should
be and help you to identify the problem. Problems are the situa-
tions or conditions that require a solution before performance can
improve. So your focus should be on figuring out the problem’s
actual causes.
4. Identify the goals. What is the organization’s mission statement?
What do the overall goals of the manager(s) involved seem to be?
What are the important statements made by the managers or oth-
ers in the case that reveal what is important or motivating factors?
Are the goals of firm(s) and individual(s) similar or not? Why or
why not?
5. Conduct the analysis. Reread the relevant chapter(s) you identi-
fied in section 3 above. Identify the theories, models, ideas, or
research that is helpful. Apply these to the situation. As you learn
more through research and discussion, review the relevant chap-
ters and concepts again.
6. Diagnose the problem. Identify the primary goals of the organiza-
tion and individuals. Think about how they relate to the problem.
Unless your professor tells you otherwise, select the most impor-
tant goal and consider alternative solutions to enable the perfor-
mance of managers and employees to achieve that goal. Think
about short-term, intermediate, and long-term actions or steps to
be taken to solve the problem. What are the possible alternative
solutions? What are the resources needed for each alternative?
What constraints or problems are associated with each alterna-
tive? What are the likely short- and long-term consequences of
these alternatives? Identify the criteria that are crucial to identify-
ing and solving the problem (unless your professor assigned such
criteria).
xx INTRODUCTION

7. Develop an action plan and defend your decision. Identify the

criteria used to select an alternative and develop an action plan
for that alternative. Decide upon the best alternative or course
of action to solve the problem. Explain why it is the best alterna-
tive, identify what resources are needed. Identify what the pri-
mary manager or important characters in the case must do and
how they should change, and identify how or why the firm should
change, etc. Be sure to develop a contingency plan where you
select an alternative that allows future action or plausible alterna-
tives should the first course of action fail to solve the problem.
Identify what the best plausible alternatives are and explain why
they are implemented next.

Not all cases or assignments require each step. Your professor may
ask you to use a completely different approach for class discussions or
when writing your assignment. But these steps provide a good approach
for reading cases and preparing for class discussion. Like life, you will
never have enough information, you will never have as much time as
you would like, you cannot always be certain you have identified the
real problem, you will face ambiguity, you will realize there is rarely one
right answer, and you likely will not have a perfect solution (Foran, 2002;
Preparing an Effective, 2005a, 2005b; Wertheim, 2006). Unlike a lecture,
conducting a case analysis allows you to feel the frustration and face the
difficulty of making hard decisions with imperfect information in difficult
and complex situations where the wrong decision could ultimately cost
you your job or put your employees out of work.
Cases often present ambiguous and complex problems and provide
misleading and incomplete information, so you experience these realities.
Students often feel overwhelmed when working on a case for the first
time. Managers have these same intellectual and emotional experiences,
so what you learn can be applied to business situations after graduation.
More suggestions for students are available from sources such Chris-
tensen (1987), Foran (2002), Preparing an Effective (2005a, 2005b), and
Wertheim (2006).
Applying the case method teaches you to read a case carefully,
research it, evaluate it, and defend your decisions in class. You learn effec-
tive strategies and techniques for dealing with real-life problems on the
job. You learn how to analyze problems and find information to create
solutions that are more likely to alleviate the problem. You learn how to
find good evidence to support your arguments to other managers and
employees on how to solve a problem. And as you are learning all these
 INTRODUCTION xxi

helpful skills and techniques for your career, you’re also learning about
the major types of management issues you may face, the theories and
best practices of management, and how to manage a diverse workforce in
national and international settings. Finally, in considering and discussing
cases and issues, you develop your own ethical beliefs and moral compass
to become a principled manager who is respected for integrity in making
career and life decisions.
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CHAPTER 1

Leadership

What defines a great leader? Why are some people great leaders and
­others not? Are leadership and management the same thing? Why are
some people excellent leaders at one point in time or in one situation,
but complete failures as leaders at other times? Are leaders born, or can
they be made? What does “leadership” mean if one is an entrepreneur or
working freelance?
These are just some of the many questions about leadership that his-
torians, political scientists, psychologists, and, of course, management
experts have wrestled with for centuries. Leadership remains one of the
continuing mysteries of human experience. All of us have observed lead-
ers throughout our lives, whether the leaders were our parents, teachers,
the class president, our boss, or any one of the dozens of other leaders
and leadership situations we encounter daily. But despite the fact that
examples of leadership are all around us, there is still much about it that
we don’t understand. Nevertheless, in this chapter, we will explore what
we do know about leadership and, more importantly, how we can use
that knowledge in today’s media management. Probably at no time in the
history of the modern media industry has leadership been more impor-
tant than now.
Over the past quarter century, a combination of technological and
market forces has completely disrupted media industries. Today, media
executives face the need to reinvent almost every aspect of their busi-
nesses: media business models, production processes, distribution chan-
nels, audience measurement methods, demand forecasting, and human
resource management. Equally importantly, changes in traditional media
industries have opened new opportunities for entrepreneurs and shifted
many media and journalism jobs from staff positions with established
media companies to freelance and contract positions. Entrepreneurs and
2 LEADERSHIP

independent contractors are, by definition, both leaders and managers.

After all, they have no one but themselves to turn to for the vision, orga-
nizational skills, strategic thinking, and discipline that separate success
from failure in a highly competitive, rapidly changing market.
In short, then, the time for strong and visionary leadership in media
industries is right now, and the most important leader in your media
career must be you.

THE FOUNDATIONS OF LEADERSHIP

Management is doing things right; leadership is doing the right things.
—Peter Drucker (2001)

My job is not to be easy on people. My jobs is to take these great people

we have and to push them and make them even better.
—Steve Jobs (quoted in Morris, 2008)

As we look ahead into the next century, leaders will be those who
empower others.
—Bill Gates (quoted in Kruse, 2012)

Leadership Traits and Skills

One of the perennial questions about leaders is whether they are born or
made. Today, experts in leadership acknowledge that some people are “nat-
ural” leaders, gifted with a confidence and charisma that is difficult for oth-
ers to learn or imitate. If you think of the “great” leaders in history, most
possessed such natural abilities. Moreover, research has suggested there is a
correlation between media Chief Executive Officers’ (CEOs’) backgrounds
and personal characteristics, and their likelihood of adopting nontradi-
tional leadership approaches and strategies (Shaver & Shaver, 2006). How-
ever, whether natural leaders or not, people can learn the fundamentals of
leadership and become more effective in leadership roles. This chapter will
lay out some of skills and dynamics of successful leadership.
Early studies of leadership focused on leadership traits (Northouse,
2010; Parry & Bryman, 2006; Redmond & Trager, 2004; Stogdill, 1974).
Traits are personal characteristics that people have. In some cases, they
can be developed, and in other instances, developing a trait may be more
difficult. Research has identified a long list of traits common to effec-
tive leaders. As the word “trait” suggests, many of these characteristics
come more naturally to some people than others, although most individ-
uals probably can improve at least somewhat in these areas with effort.
 LEADERSHIP 3

Although individual lists of traits vary, common characteristics include

intelligence, ambition, self-confidence, expertise, charisma, creativity,
perseverance, flexibility, commitment, integrity, the ability to inspire and
motivate others, social and emotional intelligence, and the ability to envi-
sion what the future ought to be (Northouse, 2010; Stogdill, 1974; Zac-
caro, Kemp, & Bader, 2004).
Many students of leadership argue that of all of these characteris-
tics, vision is most important (Redmond & Trager, 2004; Sashkin, 1989).
Vision is the ability to think creatively about the future and the oppor-
tunities it holds. Visionary leaders also must possess the ability to inspire
others to adopt their vision and work toward its achievement.
It is not enough, of course, just to have vision. Successful leadership
demands that leaders transform their visions into realities. Executing a
vision is where most leaders fail because a new vision represents change
(Johnson, 2004), and managing change is one of the most difficult of all
management challenges. Any attempt to introduce change to an organi-
zation will bump into traditions, differing viewpoints, and established
interests. Thus, for the leader, bridging the gap between vision and reality
requires planning (see Chapter 7) and leadership skills. Unlike leadership
traits, leadership skills are abilities that can be developed with training
and effort.
Central among the critical leadership skills experts have identified are
(a) communication and listening skills, (b) empowerment, (c) coaching,
(d) delegation, (e) assertiveness, (f) decisiveness, (g) problem solving, (h)
goal setting, (i) conflict management, and (j) negotiation (Harris, 2002;
Hughes, Ginnett, & Curphy, 1999; Northouse, 2010). Communication,
which includes listening skills, is arguably the single most important skill a
leader must have (Harris, 2002). Leaders must communicate their vision,
goals, and instructions clearly and in terms that motivate and inspire.
Some managers cling to the idea that information is power and, thus,
communicate as little as possible with subordinates. Employees who con-
stantly receive partial or misleading information quickly stop trusting the
boss. Skilled leaders communicate effectively through formal channels,
such as memos, e-mail, speeches, and meetings, and informally in casual
conversation and social settings. Regardless of the channel, failure to com-
municate leads to misdirection, misunderstandings, inefficiency, and lost
trust. Nonverbal communication is another important element of leader-
ship communication. How leaders dress, carry themselves, and interact
with others communicates much about their power, self-confidence, and
expectations for their employees (­Harris, 2002). Research shows people
read nonverbal cues as more accurate and reliable than verbal messages,
4 LEADERSHIP

particularly where relationship quality is concerned (Hickson & Stacks,

1985; Malandro & Barker, 1983), and some scholars have argued that
nonverbal communication is the most important form of communication
in organizations (Richmond, McCroskey, & Payne, 1987). Managers who
fold their arms when talking with subordinates communicate defensive-
ness and lack of openness (Kurien, 2010). The bosses who give their full
attention to male subordinates but don’t look up when female subordi-
nates talk to them communicate a dismissive attitude toward women. In
short, we cannot not communicate because everyone around us constantly
interprets our nonverbal displays (Harris, 2002). The leader who fails to
monitor his or her nonverbal messaging is likely to quickly encounter
communication problems with colleagues and subordinates.
Listening skills are no less important than communication skills;
effective leaders are active listeners (Harris, 2002; Johnson & Bechler,
1998), giving the speaker full attention and ignoring cell phone, e-mail,
or other interruptions. They ask questions, take notes, and rephrase back
to the speaker what was said to make sure they understood correctly.
More importantly, they act on advice and suggestions from employees.
When managers tell employees, “My door is always open,” or “I really
want to hear what you think,” but never act on the input they get, staff
quickly come to see the boss’s claim of openness as a sham.
Communication and listening skills play a role in other leadership
skills such as empowering, coaching, and delegating. Leaders empower
subordinates by seeking their input on important decisions, trusting them
to succeed at critical tasks without constant supervision, and permitting
them to find their own ways to accomplish goals as long as the goals
are accomplished. With such trust, managers can delegate some of their
responsibilities. Delegation allows the leader to refocus on tasks that can’t
be shared (Hughes et al., 1999). However successful delegation requires
that subordinates be expert enough and professionally mature enough to
handle the delegated authority (Hersey & Blanchard, 1969).
Assertiveness and decisiveness also are key leadership skills (Hughes
et al., 1999; Stogdill, 1974). Leaders and managers must be comfortable
confronting problems; advocating for their own, their organizations’,
and their employees’ needs; and telling people when they don’t meet
expectations. Decisiveness is equally important: An editor who dithers in
a breaking-news situation or a leader who avoids dealing with problems
because he or she can’t make tough decisions loses subordinates’ confi-
dence. However, decisiveness does not mean refusing to change course
once the chosen course appears wrong. Effective leaders constantly seek
and evaluate new information and admit when they’ve made a mistake.
 LEADERSHIP 5

Decisiveness does not equal blind stubbornness, the fear of admitting

mistakes, or the illusion of personal infallibility, all of which can afflict
people in leadership positions—often with disastrous consequences.
Assertiveness enters into conflict management, negotiation, and
problem solving, which all are important leadership skills (Hughes et al.,
1999). Conflict is a natural part of any organization and can be a healthy
and creative force. Fear of conflict creates a passive, change-averse envi-
ronment that may slow development and excellence. On the other hand,
uncontrolled conflict is a destructive force, causing good people to leave a
company and encouraging the survivors to focus on defeating their inter-
nal rivals rather than on achieving mutual success. A leader has to man-
age conflicts at organizational and individual levels, allowing differences
to surface, be aired, and to contribute to change and development, but
not allowing them to evolve into running feuds or disruptive outbursts.
In the very public, high-pressure, ego-driven world of media profession-
als, conflict is inevitable. Assertiveness and conflict-management skills are
particularly important for media leaders.
Successful conflict management requires negotiating skills. Skilled
negotiators focus on win-win solutions allowing all parties to save face
and gain something. Effective negotiations focus on the interests at
stake, not the positions the parties take (Fisher, Ury, & Patton, 1991).
Well-managed negotiations serve everyone’s interests to some degree and
leave relationships undamaged.
Finally, problem solving, motivation, strategic planning, and goal
setting are the core of every leader’s responsibilities. Most of a leader’s
activities involve problem solving at some level, and many of the prob-
lems they need to solve involve these other core leadership functions. So
important are the ability to motivate, plan, and set goals to a leader’s
success, that those subjects will be addressed in detail in later chapters.

Leadership Styles
Leadership experts argue that successful leadership depends on combin-
ing the style and skills of the leader, the styles and skills of the follow-
ers, and the specific conditions of the situation the group is addressing
(Fiedler, 1967; Hersey & Blanchard, 1969; House & Dessler, 1974;
Hughes et al., 1999). In other words, even the most gifted leaders will
fail miserably if their traits and styles do not match their followers’ or
the circumstances. On the other hand, even the most unlikely leaders may
succeed if they develop their leadership skills and understand their fol-
lowers and the situation.
6 LEADERSHIP

Leadership style refers to the way a leader works with subordinates

and superiors, including how much autonomy subordinates have, how
much emphasis is placed on subordinates’ personal goals and develop-
ment, and whether the leader makes accomplishment of the task more
important than maintenance of collegial relationships. Most leadership
theories argue that there is no “best” style of leadership, despite what you
may have heard or read about the importance of humanistic and trans-
formational leadership. In reality, successful leadership requires leaders
to respond to their followers and the situation.
There are different ways of looking at leadership styles. Some experts
have focused on how organizational structures and working conditions
create an organizational leadership style, and others have examined the
personal leadership style of individual leaders.

Effects of Organizational Structures on Leadership Style

Theories X, Y, and Z comprise one of the more common frameworks for
understanding differences in leadership styles and explain the connection
between organizational structure, culture, and leadership.
Theory X refers to a top-down, authoritarian style in which supervi-
sors command and subordinates obey (McGregor, 1960, 2006). Theory X
leadership typically exists in highly structured, hierarchical organizations
where members’ status derives from their job title, and lines of authority
are clear. Subordinates may have some input in Theory X environments,
but when a decision is made, compliance is expected. The military is the
most obvious example of this style; other examples include police and fire
departments and airline and ship crews. These types of organizations use
Theory X because it is most effective when people work in changeable,
potentially dangerous, or extremely time-pressured conditions. For those
reasons, news organizations often exhibit elements of Theory X leader-
ship style.
Experts often describe Theory Y leadership as a “humanistic” or
“human-needs-oriented” style (McGregor, 1960, 2006). Theory Y lead-
ers strive to create harmony between the organization’s and employees’
goals. Generally found in more decentralized, horizontally structured
organizations, Theory Y leaders give workers some power and auton-
omy. The approach assumes most people are self-motivated and pro-
duce better results if they control their own work and if the work fits
with the employee’s personal goals and values. Media workplaces also
widely use Theory Y, particularly in the creative industries and new
media.
 LEADERSHIP 7

Theory Z leadership (Ouchi, 1981), often referred to as “Japanese-Style

Management,” first attracted attention in the 1980s when Japanese com-
panies became major global competitors to U.S. and European indus-
tries. Theory Z combines elements of X and Y. Theory Z organizations
tend to be hierarchically structured, with the expectation that employees
at the hierarchy’s bottom will be consulted by senior management on
issues within those employees’ expertise. In return, workers take per-
sonal responsibility for the quality of the product and the success of the
organization.
Theory Z management requires a high level of trust, loyalty, and
mutual respect across all levels of the company. It works well in orga-
nizations where managers and employees expect workers to stay with
the company for most, or all, of their careers. In today’s competitive
economy where employment security has eroded and many companies,
particularly in the media industry, are replacing employees with contract
workers, Theory Z leadership is becoming harder to find—even in Japan.
For those who might wonder why these approaches to leadership are
called Theories X, Y, and Z, the terms don’t have any special significance.
The author of Theory X and Theory Y designated them as such simply
to “avoid the complications introduced by a label” (McGregor, 1957, as
cited in McGregor, 1960, 2006, p. 341). Theory Z, which came later, was
so named by its author (Ouchi, 1981) because it built on McGregor’s
earlier work.
Other aspects of organizational structures such as centralization,
unity of command, span of control, division of labor, and departmental-
ization also affect a leader’s style and effectiveness (Hughes et al., 1999).
Centralization refers to the number of people in the organization who
control power or, said another way, the degree to which power is shared
in the organization (Andrews, Boyne, Law, & Walker, 2009). Highly
centralized organizations tend to be more authoritarian or Theory X,
while decentralized organizations tend to be more participative. Unity
of command refers to how clearly the lines in the chain of command are
drawn. Historically, organizational theorists argued that clear chains of
command that had each employee reporting to one, and only one, super-
visor were associated with better firm performance and more satisfied
employees (Rizzo, House, & Lirtzman, 1970). In media organizations,
however, authority often is very diffuse. Journalists may work with sev-
eral different editors on a story, while in entertainment media, creative
teams often are responsible for production. In entrepreneurial organiza-
tions and settings where new products are being developed, authority
usually is highly decentralized.
8 LEADERSHIP

Span of control refers to the number of people and projects ­managers

supervise (Ouchi & Dowling, 1974). A wider span of control makes it
more difficult to keep track of individuals and details. Widespread con-
solidation in local media since the 1990s has meant that many broadcast
managers and newspaper publishers now run multiple media outlets,
sometimes spread across hundreds of miles. As span of control increases,
a manager’s ability to closely supervise and direct employees and to
simultaneously develop strong personal relationships with them declines.
Division of labor refers to how specialized staff members’ roles are
in the production process and was identified by Adam Smith (1776) as
an important factor in economic efficiency. Some organizational scholars
have argued that in this century, technology will cause ever-increasing
division of labor in most industries, until specific jobs are “atomized”
(Malone, Laubacher, & Johns, 2011). In the media industry, however,
the opposite is occurring. Digital technologies have significantly reduced
divisions of labor. Smaller digital cameras and laptops make it possible
for reporters in converged operations to create and edit video for broad-
cast, extract a still shot for the newspaper and Web, and rewrite the
story for all three platforms. In a transmedia environment, writers and
videographers are expected to write and shoot narratives appropriate
to screens ranging from smartphone screens to 70-inch high-definition
home theaters—and everything in between.
Departmentalization refers to the internal structure of an organi-
zation and whether people with similar or complementary jobs work
together and report to the same managers (Koontz & O’Donnell, 1964).
Typically, highly departmentalized organizations also are more central-
ized. Conversely, as divisions of labor blur, so do unity of command, cen-
tralization, and departmentalization, while managers’ spans of control
increase.
In the 21st century media environment, the need to produce and dis-
tribute content for multiple screens and formats is forcing an organic
restructuring within media companies and industries. Film producers and
directors now work closely with video game developers in developing
game-friendly narratives and visualizations for future films. Screenwrit-
ers are called upon to extend storylines from episodic television series to
webisodes, mobisodes, and gaming formats for wider distribution and
marketing. No longer, as was the case only a few years ago, are the jour-
nalists producing for the newspaper or magazine’s print edition or eve-
ning newscast working in one room, while the online department sits in
another (Powers, 2006; Singer, 2003, 2008). In the digital newsroom, the
print and broadcast journalists are the online journalists, and also the
 LEADERSHIP 9

photographers and videographers (Roderick, 2012). Journalists today

are expected to produce news stories for multiple platforms—broadcast,
print, online, social media, and mobile devices, using text, audio, and
video. They also often work with fewer support staff such as copyeditors
and designers to assist them or double check their work. The fading dis-
tinctions between print and broadcast distribution are reducing demand
for specialization and increasing demand for multiskilled, multitasking
generalists.

Individual Leadership Styles

In addition to the leadership styles shaped by organizational structures,
individuals bring their personal style to the Leader-Follower-Situation
equation. Leadership experts have identified many different individual
leadership styles ranging from autocratic to hands-off (Northouse, 2010;
Redmond & Trager, 2004). Most people probably use more than one
leadership style, and individuals’ styles often change with time and expe-
rience. However, at any given time, an individual is probably more com-
fortable with some of these styles than with others (Fiedler, 1967).

LEADING FOLLOWERS
Leaders do not operate in a vacuum. They accomplish their goals pri-
marily through followers’ activities. Effective leaders understand the
strengths and weaknesses of the people working around them and adjust
their leadership style accordingly.
Leading a staff of media professionals can be challenging; as a rule,
media professionals are highly educated and self-motivated (Weaver,
Beam, Brownlee, Voakes, & Wilhoit, 2003). Media production is a cre-
ative activity, so “artistic personalities” abound. On the news side, jour-
nalists make their living by asking tough questions, skeptically evaluating
answers, and pointing out nonsense as publicly as possible. Journalists
are no more likely to swallow the “company line” from their boss than
they are from the city’s mayor.
The Situational Leadership Theory (SLT) (Hersey & Blanchard,
1969) maintains that an effective leader approaches leadership by under-
standing the followers’ task and psychological maturity. Task maturity
refers to an employee’s education, experience, and technical skills relative
to a task. Psychological maturity refers to the individual’s task-related
self-confidence, attitude, and motivation. Task and psychological matu-
rity are not necessarily related. The production intern may lack experience
10 LEADERSHIP

but have tremendous enthusiasm, while the senior producer may be

burned out and alienated.
SLT encourages leaders to match their leadership style with subor-
dinates’ “followership” styles. According to the theory, an authoritarian
approach works best with followers without job skills and motivation.
Consultative or inspirational leadership would work better for those who,
like the senior producer, have the skills but lack motivation or confidence.
Coaching would help develop the highly motivated but inexperienced
intern, while leaders blessed with highly skilled and highly motivated fol-
lowers should empower them through delegation.
A second theory of leadership, Fiedler’s (1967) Contingency Theory,
assumes that leaders tend to be less flexible than the Situational Leader-
ship Theory posits. Thus, the problem is to choose the right leader for the
specific followers and situation, rather than ask the leader to be adaptive.
A third important approach in leadership studies is the Path-Goal
Theory (Evans, 1970; House & Dessler, 1974). The Path-Goal Theory
holds that a leader’s primary job is to motivate followers. The theory pre-
dicts that followers’ behaviors depend on whether they think their work
will help them achieve their own goals. Two other factors shape follow-
ers’ behaviors: (a) their perception of whether the leader’s behavior will
contribute to their personal satisfaction, and (b) their perception of their
own self-efficacy. Followers who see themselves as powerful and in con-
trol of their own destiny prefer consensus leaders, while followers who
see themselves as at the mercy of fate prefer more authoritarian leaders
(Mitchell, Smyser, & Weed, 1975).
Another important element of leadership style is task-relationship
orientation. Originally identified in the 1940s and 1950s (Hughes et
al., 1999), leaders’ orientations toward tasks and relationships have
worked its way into many leadership theories. The task-relationship ori-
entation basically argues that some leaders are more concerned about
job-related tasks, while others focus on maintaining good relationships
with colleagues. Whether one approach is more effective than the other
is debated among leadership scholars, but several theories suggest the
answer depends on the combination of the organization’s followers and
the situation (Fiedler, 1967; Hughes et al., 1999).
The task-relationship dichotomy also comes into play in
leader-follower relations. Most people relate best to those most like
themselves in task-relationship orientation, while differences can lead
to tension. When relationship-oriented people spend time chatting
with colleagues, their task-oriented coworkers are likely to see them as
time-wasters. When task-oriented people brush off efforts at small talk,
 LEADERSHIP 11

their relationship-oriented colleagues may see them as cold, arrogant,

and unfriendly. In reality, good relationships among coworkers help orga-
nizations work more smoothly, and building good relationships requires
time and non-task-focused communication. Conversely, a strong task
focus gets things done. Managers need to recognize the valuable con-
tributions both types of employees make to organizational effectiveness
and take care not to try to force everyone into the same mold. Observing
each coworker’s task-relationship orientation and then matching it when
interacting with that individual helps improve working relationships.

LEADERSHIP STYLES FOR DIFFERENT SITUATIONS

Many leadership theories also suggest that the organizational environ-
ment impacts leadership effectiveness. For example, unlike the Situ-
ational Theory of Leadership, which assumes the ability of leaders to
adapt their style to their followers, the Contingency Theory of Leader-
ship (Fiedler, 1967) holds that leadership effectiveness rests on choosing
the leader whose style is appropriate to the situation. Fiedler identified
several situational factors that predict leader success: (a) the quality of
leader-follower relations, (b) the degree of task structure or uncertainty,
and (c) the power of the leader in relationship to the followers. Tests of
the Contingency Theory of Leadership suggest that task-oriented leaders
are more likely to be successful when these factors are extremely favor-
able or extremely unfavorable, while relationship-oriented leaders are
more likely to succeed when conditions are more moderate.
In a startup media company, for example, the tasks will be fairly
unstructured. Leaders and staff alike will be learning what needs to be
done to keep the business running. The staff usually will be small, new to
the organization, and enthusiastic about the chance to build a business
from the beginning. Individuals will have a high degree of professional
autonomy since the organization will be making things up as it goes
along. In such circumstances, a task-oriented leader probably will be suc-
cessful because that person will be more likely to focus on making sure
that things happen and details get covered. Conversely, in an established
organization going through disruptive change, a people-oriented leader
probably will be more successful because he or she will focus more on the
human dynamics of the situation.
When leader-follower relations are either very good or very bad, rela-
tionship maintenance efforts are not likely to matter. Similarly, highly
structured or highly unstructured tasks benefit from a strong task-focus,
while the leader’s possession of either a lot of power, or very little, may be
12 LEADERSHIP

more important to task accomplishment than to relationship m­ aintenance.

Where conditions are not clear cut, the relationship-oriented leader may
have more success navigating the ambiguities (Hughes et al., 1999)

LEADING SMALL GROUPS AND TEAMS

In the media industry, teams or small groups commonly perform work.
The word team refers to a small group working toward a shared goal
with a high level of interdependence (Hughes et al., 1999). Groups gen-
erally are less cohesive, and members may have different reasons for
belonging to the group and different objectives for the outcome. Media,
film, television, newspaper, and music production, among others, require
teamwork.
Leading teams and small groups is a complex process. Teams and
groups develop their own internal identities and cultures and, like other
organizations, are affected by size, task structure, and member relation-
ships. Teams and groups have the advantage of harnessing the ideas and
efforts of multiple people, but they have the disadvantage of requiring
more time and effort to manage because of the need to negotiate between
members. Many leadership issues affect teams’ success. These include (a)
domination by the leader, (b) poor relationships between members, and
(c) the team’s or group’s perception of itself and its relationship to the
outside world (Bormann & Bormann, 1992; Hughes et al., 1999; Janis,
1982).
A dominant leader negates most of the advantages of teams and
groups because generally only the leader’s view is heard. Even if a leader
does not actively dominate group interactions, if the person is powerful,
group members may engage in self-censorship and offer only ideas they
think will be acceptable. That curtails the group’s range of ideas and
actions. Effective group leadership in such cases requires that the leader
withdraw, appointing someone else to head the group.
Relationships between team members also can affect teamwork. If
a group divides into factions or cliques, consensus may be impossible.
If two members dislike each other, disruptive bickering and mutual
sabotage can result. In media professions, where many projects require
teamwork, such bickering can have negative consequences for both work
efficiency and quality.
Another team leadership problem that arises is one almost every stu-
dent knows from first-hand experience: the free rider—the team member
who doesn’t contribute. This occurs primarily in groups where rewards,
such as grades, will be equally distributed. As long as at least one person
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 DANCE ON STILTS AT THE GIRLS’ UNYAGO, NIUCHI

Newala, too, suffers from the distance of its water-supply—at least

the Newala of to-day does; there was once another Newala in a lovely
valley at the foot of the plateau. I visited it and found scarcely a trace
of houses, only a Christian cemetery, with the graves of several
missionaries and their converts, remaining as a monument of its
former glories. But the surroundings are wonderfully beautiful. A
thick grove of splendid mango-trees closes in the weather-worn
crosses and headstones; behind them, combining the useful and the
agreeable, is a whole plantation of lemon-trees covered with ripe
fruit; not the small African kind, but a much larger and also juicier
imported variety, which drops into the hands of the passing traveller,
without calling for any exertion on his part. Old Newala is now under
the jurisdiction of the native pastor, Daudi, at Chingulungulu, who,
as I am on very friendly terms with him, allows me, as a matter of
course, the use of this lemon-grove during my stay at Newala.
 FEET MUTILATED BY THE RAVAGES OF THE “JIGGER”
(Sarcopsylla penetrans)

The water-supply of New Newala is in the bottom of the valley,

some 1,600 feet lower down. The way is not only long and fatiguing,
but the water, when we get it, is thoroughly bad. We are suffering not
only from this, but from the fact that the arrangements at Newala are
nothing short of luxurious. We have a separate kitchen—a hut built
against the boma palisade on the right of the baraza, the interior of
which is not visible from our usual position. Our two cooks were not
long in finding this out, and they consequently do—or rather neglect
to do—what they please. In any case they do not seem to be very
particular about the boiling of our drinking-water—at least I can
attribute to no other cause certain attacks of a dysenteric nature,
from which both Knudsen and I have suffered for some time. If a
man like Omari has to be left unwatched for a moment, he is capable
of anything. Besides this complaint, we are inconvenienced by the
state of our nails, which have become as hard as glass, and crack on
the slightest provocation, and I have the additional infliction of
pimples all over me. As if all this were not enough, we have also, for
the last week been waging war against the jigger, who has found his
Eldorado in the hot sand of the Makonde plateau. Our men are seen
all day long—whenever their chronic colds and the dysentery likewise
raging among them permit—occupied in removing this scourge of
Africa from their feet and trying to prevent the disastrous
consequences of its presence. It is quite common to see natives of
this place with one or two toes missing; many have lost all their toes,
or even the whole front part of the foot, so that a well-formed leg
ends in a shapeless stump. These ravages are caused by the female of
Sarcopsylla penetrans, which bores its way under the skin and there
develops an egg-sac the size of a pea. In all books on the subject, it is
stated that one’s attention is called to the presence of this parasite by
an intolerable itching. This agrees very well with my experience, so
far as the softer parts of the sole, the spaces between and under the
toes, and the side of the foot are concerned, but if the creature
penetrates through the harder parts of the heel or ball of the foot, it
may escape even the most careful search till it has reached maturity.
Then there is no time to be lost, if the horrible ulceration, of which
we see cases by the dozen every day, is to be prevented. It is much
easier, by the way, to discover the insect on the white skin of a
European than on that of a native, on which the dark speck scarcely
shows. The four or five jiggers which, in spite of the fact that I
constantly wore high laced boots, chose my feet to settle in, were
taken out for me by the all-accomplished Knudsen, after which I
thought it advisable to wash out the cavities with corrosive
sublimate. The natives have a different sort of disinfectant—they fill
the hole with scraped roots. In a tiny Makua village on the slope of
the plateau south of Newala, we saw an old woman who had filled all
the spaces under her toe-nails with powdered roots by way of
prophylactic treatment. What will be the result, if any, who can say?
The rest of the many trifling ills which trouble our existence are
really more comic than serious. In the absence of anything else to
smoke, Knudsen and I at last opened a box of cigars procured from
the Indian store-keeper at Lindi, and tried them, with the most
distressing results. Whether they contain opium or some other
narcotic, neither of us can say, but after the tenth puff we were both
“off,” three-quarters stupefied and unspeakably wretched. Slowly we
recovered—and what happened next? Half-an-hour later we were
once more smoking these poisonous concoctions—so insatiable is the
craving for tobacco in the tropics.
Even my present attacks of fever scarcely deserve to be taken
seriously. I have had no less than three here at Newala, all of which
have run their course in an incredibly short time. In the early
afternoon, I am busy with my old natives, asking questions and
making notes. The strong midday coffee has stimulated my spirits to
an extraordinary degree, the brain is active and vigorous, and work
progresses rapidly, while a pleasant warmth pervades the whole
body. Suddenly this gives place to a violent chill, forcing me to put on
my overcoat, though it is only half-past three and the afternoon sun
is at its hottest. Now the brain no longer works with such acuteness
and logical precision; more especially does it fail me in trying to
establish the syntax of the difficult Makua language on which I have
ventured, as if I had not enough to do without it. Under the
circumstances it seems advisable to take my temperature, and I do
so, to save trouble, without leaving my seat, and while going on with
my work. On examination, I find it to be 101·48°. My tutors are
abruptly dismissed and my bed set up in the baraza; a few minutes
later I am in it and treating myself internally with hot water and
lemon-juice.
Three hours later, the thermometer marks nearly 104°, and I make
them carry me back into the tent, bed and all, as I am now perspiring
heavily, and exposure to the cold wind just beginning to blow might
mean a fatal chill. I lie still for a little while, and then find, to my
great relief, that the temperature is not rising, but rather falling. This
is about 7.30 p.m. At 8 p.m. I find, to my unbounded astonishment,
that it has fallen below 98·6°, and I feel perfectly well. I read for an
hour or two, and could very well enjoy a smoke, if I had the
wherewithal—Indian cigars being out of the question.
Having no medical training, I am at a loss to account for this state
of things. It is impossible that these transitory attacks of high fever
should be malarial; it seems more probable that they are due to a
kind of sunstroke. On consulting my note-book, I become more and
more inclined to think this is the case, for these attacks regularly
follow extreme fatigue and long exposure to strong sunshine. They at
least have the advantage of being only short interruptions to my
work, as on the following morning I am always quite fresh and fit.
My treasure of a cook is suffering from an enormous hydrocele which
makes it difficult for him to get up, and Moritz is obliged to keep in
the dark on account of his inflamed eyes. Knudsen’s cook, a raw boy
from somewhere in the bush, knows still less of cooking than Omari;
consequently Nils Knudsen himself has been promoted to the vacant
post. Finding that we had come to the end of our supplies, he began
by sending to Chingulungulu for the four sucking-pigs which we had
bought from Matola and temporarily left in his charge; and when
they came up, neatly packed in a large crate, he callously slaughtered
the biggest of them. The first joint we were thoughtless enough to
entrust for roasting to Knudsen’s mshenzi cook, and it was
consequently uneatable; but we made the rest of the animal into a
jelly which we ate with great relish after weeks of underfeeding,
consuming incredible helpings of it at both midday and evening
meals. The only drawback is a certain want of variety in the tinned
vegetables. Dr. Jäger, to whom the Geographical Commission
entrusted the provisioning of the expeditions—mine as well as his
own—because he had more time on his hands than the rest of us,
seems to have laid in a huge stock of Teltow turnips,[46] an article of
food which is all very well for occasional use, but which quickly palls
when set before one every day; and we seem to have no other tins
left. There is no help for it—we must put up with the turnips; but I
am certain that, once I am home again, I shall not touch them for ten
years to come.
Amid all these minor evils, which, after all, go to make up the
genuine flavour of Africa, there is at least one cheering touch:
Knudsen has, with the dexterity of a skilled mechanic, repaired my 9
× 12 cm. camera, at least so far that I can use it with a little care.
How, in the absence of finger-nails, he was able to accomplish such a
ticklish piece of work, having no tool but a clumsy screw-driver for
taking to pieces and putting together again the complicated
mechanism of the instantaneous shutter, is still a mystery to me; but
he did it successfully. The loss of his finger-nails shows him in a light
contrasting curiously enough with the intelligence evinced by the
above operation; though, after all, it is scarcely surprising after his
ten years’ residence in the bush. One day, at Lindi, he had occasion
to wash a dog, which must have been in need of very thorough
cleansing, for the bottle handed to our friend for the purpose had an
extremely strong smell. Having performed his task in the most
conscientious manner, he perceived with some surprise that the dog
did not appear much the better for it, and was further surprised by
finding his own nails ulcerating away in the course of the next few
days. “How was I to know that carbolic acid has to be diluted?” he
mutters indignantly, from time to time, with a troubled gaze at his
mutilated finger-tips.
 Since we came to Newala we have been making excursions in all
directions through the surrounding country, in accordance with old
habit, and also because the akida Sefu did not get together the tribal
elders from whom I wanted information so speedily as he had
promised. There is, however, no harm done, as, even if seen only
from the outside, the country and people are interesting enough.
The Makonde plateau is like a large rectangular table rounded off
at the corners. Measured from the Indian Ocean to Newala, it is
about seventy-five miles long, and between the Rovuma and the
Lukuledi it averages fifty miles in breadth, so that its superficial area
is about two-thirds of that of the kingdom of Saxony. The surface,
however, is not level, but uniformly inclined from its south-western
edge to the ocean. From the upper edge, on which Newala lies, the
eye ranges for many miles east and north-east, without encountering
any obstacle, over the Makonde bush. It is a green sea, from which
here and there thick clouds of smoke rise, to show that it, too, is
inhabited by men who carry on their tillage like so many other
primitive peoples, by cutting down and burning the bush, and
manuring with the ashes. Even in the radiant light of a tropical day
such a fire is a grand sight.
Much less effective is the impression produced just now by the
great western plain as seen from the edge of the plateau. As often as
time permits, I stroll along this edge, sometimes in one direction,
sometimes in another, in the hope of finding the air clear enough to
let me enjoy the view; but I have always been disappointed.
Wherever one looks, clouds of smoke rise from the burning bush,
and the air is full of smoke and vapour. It is a pity, for under more
favourable circumstances the panorama of the whole country up to
the distant Majeje hills must be truly magnificent. It is of little use
taking photographs now, and an outline sketch gives a very poor idea
of the scenery. In one of these excursions I went out of my way to
make a personal attempt on the Makonde bush. The present edge of
the plateau is the result of a far-reaching process of destruction
through erosion and denudation. The Makonde strata are
everywhere cut into by ravines, which, though short, are hundreds of
yards in depth. In consequence of the loose stratification of these
beds, not only are the walls of these ravines nearly vertical, but their
upper end is closed by an equally steep escarpment, so that the
western edge of the Makonde plateau is hemmed in by a series of
deep, basin-like valleys. In order to get from one side of such a ravine
to the other, I cut my way through the bush with a dozen of my men.
It was a very open part, with more grass than scrub, but even so the
short stretch of less than two hundred yards was very hard work; at
the end of it the men’s calicoes were in rags and they themselves
bleeding from hundreds of scratches, while even our strong khaki
suits had not escaped scatheless.

NATIVE PATH THROUGH THE MAKONDE BUSH, NEAR

MAHUTA

I see increasing reason to believe that the view formed some time
back as to the origin of the Makonde bush is the correct one. I have
no doubt that it is not a natural product, but the result of human
occupation. Those parts of the high country where man—as a very
slight amount of practice enables the eye to perceive at once—has not
yet penetrated with axe and hoe, are still occupied by a splendid
timber forest quite able to sustain a comparison with our mixed
forests in Germany. But wherever man has once built his hut or tilled
his field, this horrible bush springs up. Every phase of this process
may be seen in the course of a couple of hours’ walk along the main
road. From the bush to right or left, one hears the sound of the axe—
not from one spot only, but from several directions at once. A few
steps further on, we can see what is taking place. The brush has been
cut down and piled up in heaps to the height of a yard or more,
between which the trunks of the large trees stand up like the last
pillars of a magnificent ruined building. These, too, present a
melancholy spectacle: the destructive Makonde have ringed them—
cut a broad strip of bark all round to ensure their dying off—and also
piled up pyramids of brush round them. Father and son, mother and
son-in-law, are chopping away perseveringly in the background—too
busy, almost, to look round at the white stranger, who usually excites
so much interest. If you pass by the same place a week later, the piles
of brushwood have disappeared and a thick layer of ashes has taken
the place of the green forest. The large trees stretch their
smouldering trunks and branches in dumb accusation to heaven—if
they have not already fallen and been more or less reduced to ashes,
perhaps only showing as a white stripe on the dark ground.
This work of destruction is carried out by the Makonde alike on the
virgin forest and on the bush which has sprung up on sites already
cultivated and deserted. In the second case they are saved the trouble
of burning the large trees, these being entirely absent in the
secondary bush.
After burning this piece of forest ground and loosening it with the
hoe, the native sows his corn and plants his vegetables. All over the
country, he goes in for bed-culture, which requires, and, in fact,
receives, the most careful attention. Weeds are nowhere tolerated in
the south of German East Africa. The crops may fail on the plains,
where droughts are frequent, but never on the plateau with its
abundant rains and heavy dews. Its fortunate inhabitants even have
the satisfaction of seeing the proud Wayao and Wamakua working
for them as labourers, driven by hunger to serve where they were
accustomed to rule.
But the light, sandy soil is soon exhausted, and would yield no
harvest the second year if cultivated twice running. This fact has
been familiar to the native for ages; consequently he provides in
time, and, while his crop is growing, prepares the next plot with axe
and firebrand. Next year he plants this with his various crops and
lets the first piece lie fallow. For a short time it remains waste and
desolate; then nature steps in to repair the destruction wrought by
man; a thousand new growths spring out of the exhausted soil, and
even the old stumps put forth fresh shoots. Next year the new growth
is up to one’s knees, and in a few years more it is that terrible,
impenetrable bush, which maintains its position till the black
occupier of the land has made the round of all the available sites and
come back to his starting point.
The Makonde are, body and soul, so to speak, one with this bush.
According to my Yao informants, indeed, their name means nothing
else but “bush people.” Their own tradition says that they have been
settled up here for a very long time, but to my surprise they laid great
stress on an original immigration. Their old homes were in the
south-east, near Mikindani and the mouth of the Rovuma, whence
their peaceful forefathers were driven by the continual raids of the
Sakalavas from Madagascar and the warlike Shirazis[47] of the coast,
to take refuge on the almost inaccessible plateau. I have studied
African ethnology for twenty years, but the fact that changes of
population in this apparently quiet and peaceable corner of the earth
could have been occasioned by outside enterprises taking place on
the high seas, was completely new to me. It is, no doubt, however,
correct.
The charming tribal legend of the Makonde—besides informing us
of other interesting matters—explains why they have to live in the
thickest of the bush and a long way from the edge of the plateau,
instead of making their permanent homes beside the purling brooks
and springs of the low country.
“The place where the tribe originated is Mahuta, on the southern
side of the plateau towards the Rovuma, where of old time there was
nothing but thick bush. Out of this bush came a man who never
washed himself or shaved his head, and who ate and drank but little.
He went out and made a human figure from the wood of a tree
growing in the open country, which he took home to his abode in the
bush and there set it upright. In the night this image came to life and
was a woman. The man and woman went down together to the
Rovuma to wash themselves. Here the woman gave birth to a still-
born child. They left that place and passed over the high land into the
valley of the Mbemkuru, where the woman had another child, which
was also born dead. Then they returned to the high bush country of
Mahuta, where the third child was born, which lived and grew up. In
course of time, the couple had many more children, and called
themselves Wamatanda. These were the ancestral stock of the
Makonde, also called Wamakonde,[48] i.e., aborigines. Their
forefather, the man from the bush, gave his children the command to
bury their dead upright, in memory of the mother of their race who
was cut out of wood and awoke to life when standing upright. He also
warned them against settling in the valleys and near large streams,
for sickness and death dwelt there. They were to make it a rule to
have their huts at least an hour’s walk from the nearest watering-
place; then their children would thrive and escape illness.”
The explanation of the name Makonde given by my informants is
somewhat different from that contained in the above legend, which I
extract from a little book (small, but packed with information), by
Pater Adams, entitled Lindi und sein Hinterland. Otherwise, my
results agree exactly with the statements of the legend. Washing?
Hapana—there is no such thing. Why should they do so? As it is, the
supply of water scarcely suffices for cooking and drinking; other
people do not wash, so why should the Makonde distinguish himself
by such needless eccentricity? As for shaving the head, the short,
woolly crop scarcely needs it,[49] so the second ancestral precept is
likewise easy enough to follow. Beyond this, however, there is
nothing ridiculous in the ancestor’s advice. I have obtained from
various local artists a fairly large number of figures carved in wood,
ranging from fifteen to twenty-three inches in height, and
representing women belonging to the great group of the Mavia,
Makonde, and Matambwe tribes. The carving is remarkably well
done and renders the female type with great accuracy, especially the
keloid ornamentation, to be described later on. As to the object and
meaning of their works the sculptors either could or (more probably)
would tell me nothing, and I was forced to content myself with the
scanty information vouchsafed by one man, who said that the figures
were merely intended to represent the nembo—the artificial
deformations of pelele, ear-discs, and keloids. The legend recorded
by Pater Adams places these figures in a new light. They must surely
be more than mere dolls; and we may even venture to assume that
they are—though the majority of present-day Makonde are probably
unaware of the fact—representations of the tribal ancestress.
 The references in the legend to the descent from Mahuta to the
Rovuma, and to a journey across the highlands into the Mbekuru
valley, undoubtedly indicate the previous history of the tribe, the
travels of the ancestral pair typifying the migrations of their
descendants. The descent to the neighbouring Rovuma valley, with
its extraordinary fertility and great abundance of game, is intelligible
at a glance—but the crossing of the Lukuledi depression, the ascent
to the Rondo Plateau and the descent to the Mbemkuru, also lie
within the bounds of probability, for all these districts have exactly
the same character as the extreme south. Now, however, comes a
point of especial interest for our bacteriological age. The primitive
Makonde did not enjoy their lives in the marshy river-valleys.
Disease raged among them, and many died. It was only after they
had returned to their original home near Mahuta, that the health
conditions of these people improved. We are very apt to think of the
African as a stupid person whose ignorance of nature is only equalled
by his fear of it, and who looks on all mishaps as caused by evil
spirits and malignant natural powers. It is much more correct to
assume in this case that the people very early learnt to distinguish
districts infested with malaria from those where it is absent.
This knowledge is crystallized in the
ancestral warning against settling in the
valleys and near the great waters, the
dwelling-places of disease and death. At the
same time, for security against the hostile
Mavia south of the Rovuma, it was enacted
that every settlement must be not less than a
certain distance from the southern edge of the
plateau. Such in fact is their mode of life at the
present day. It is not such a bad one, and
certainly they are both safer and more
comfortable than the Makua, the recent
intruders from the south, who have made USUAL METHOD OF
good their footing on the western edge of the CLOSING HUT-DOOR
plateau, extending over a fairly wide belt of
country. Neither Makua nor Makonde show in their dwellings
anything of the size and comeliness of the Yao houses in the plain,
especially at Masasi, Chingulungulu and Zuza’s. Jumbe Chauro, a
Makonde hamlet not far from Newala, on the road to Mahuta, is the
most important settlement of the tribe I have yet seen, and has fairly
spacious huts. But how slovenly is their construction compared with
the palatial residences of the elephant-hunters living in the plain.
The roofs are still more untidy than in the general run of huts during
the dry season, the walls show here and there the scanty beginnings
or the lamentable remains of the mud plastering, and the interior is a
veritable dog-kennel; dirt, dust and disorder everywhere. A few huts
only show any attempt at division into rooms, and this consists
merely of very roughly-made bamboo partitions. In one point alone
have I noticed any indication of progress—in the method of fastening
the door. Houses all over the south are secured in a simple but
ingenious manner. The door consists of a set of stout pieces of wood
or bamboo, tied with bark-string to two cross-pieces, and moving in
two grooves round one of the door-posts, so as to open inwards. If
the owner wishes to leave home, he takes two logs as thick as a man’s
upper arm and about a yard long. One of these is placed obliquely
against the middle of the door from the inside, so as to form an angle
of from 60° to 75° with the ground. He then places the second piece
horizontally across the first, pressing it downward with all his might.
It is kept in place by two strong posts planted in the ground a few
inches inside the door. This fastening is absolutely safe, but of course
cannot be applied to both doors at once, otherwise how could the
owner leave or enter his house? I have not yet succeeded in finding
out how the back door is fastened.

MAKONDE LOCK AND KEY AT JUMBE CHAURO

 This is the general way of closing a house. The Makonde at Jumbe
Chauro, however, have a much more complicated, solid and original
one. Here, too, the door is as already described, except that there is
only one post on the inside, standing by itself about six inches from
one side of the doorway. Opposite this post is a hole in the wall just
large enough to admit a man’s arm. The door is closed inside by a
large wooden bolt passing through a hole in this post and pressing
with its free end against the door. The other end has three holes into
which fit three pegs running in vertical grooves inside the post. The
door is opened with a wooden key about a foot long, somewhat
curved and sloped off at the butt; the other end has three pegs
corresponding to the holes, in the bolt, so that, when it is thrust
through the hole in the wall and inserted into the rectangular
opening in the post, the pegs can be lifted and the bolt drawn out.[50]

MODE OF INSERTING THE KEY

With no small pride first one householder and then a second

showed me on the spot the action of this greatest invention of the
Makonde Highlands. To both with an admiring exclamation of
“Vizuri sana!” (“Very fine!”). I expressed the wish to take back these
marvels with me to Ulaya, to show the Wazungu what clever fellows
the Makonde are. Scarcely five minutes after my return to camp at
Newala, the two men came up sweating under the weight of two
heavy logs which they laid down at my feet, handing over at the same
time the keys of the fallen fortress. Arguing, logically enough, that if
the key was wanted, the lock would be wanted with it, they had taken
their axes and chopped down the posts—as it never occurred to them
to dig them out of the ground and so bring them intact. Thus I have
two badly damaged specimens, and the owners, instead of praise,
come in for a blowing-up.
The Makua huts in the environs of Newala are especially
miserable; their more than slovenly construction reminds one of the
temporary erections of the Makua at Hatia’s, though the people here
have not been concerned in a war. It must therefore be due to
congenital idleness, or else to the absence of a powerful chief. Even
the baraza at Mlipa’s, a short hour’s walk south-east of Newala,
shares in this general neglect. While public buildings in this country
are usually looked after more or less carefully, this is in evident
danger of being blown over by the first strong easterly gale. The only
attractive object in this whole district is the grave of the late chief
Mlipa. I visited it in the morning, while the sun was still trying with
partial success to break through the rolling mists, and the circular
grove of tall euphorbias, which, with a broken pot, is all that marks
the old king’s resting-place, impressed one with a touch of pathos.
Even my very materially-minded carriers seemed to feel something
of the sort, for instead of their usual ribald songs, they chanted
solemnly, as we marched on through the dense green of the Makonde
bush:—
 “We shall arrive with the great master; we stand in a row and have
no fear about getting our food and our money from the Serkali (the
Government). We are not afraid; we are going along with the great
master, the lion; we are going down to the coast and back.”
With regard to the characteristic features of the various tribes here
on the western edge of the plateau, I can arrive at no other
conclusion than the one already come to in the plain, viz., that it is
impossible for anyone but a trained anthropologist to assign any
given individual at once to his proper tribe. In fact, I think that even
an anthropological specialist, after the most careful examination,
might find it a difficult task to decide. The whole congeries of peoples
collected in the region bounded on the west by the great Central
African rift, Tanganyika and Nyasa, and on the east by the Indian
Ocean, are closely related to each other—some of their languages are
only distinguished from one another as dialects of the same speech,
and no doubt all the tribes present the same shape of skull and
structure of skeleton. Thus, surely, there can be no very striking
differences in outward appearance.
 Even did such exist, I should have no time
to concern myself with them, for day after day,
I have to see or hear, as the case may be—in
any case to grasp and record—an
extraordinary number of ethnographic
phenomena. I am almost disposed to think it
fortunate that some departments of inquiry, at
least, are barred by external circumstances.
Chief among these is the subject of iron-
working. We are apt to think of Africa as a
country where iron ore is everywhere, so to
speak, to be picked up by the roadside, and
where it would be quite surprising if the
inhabitants had not learnt to smelt the
material ready to their hand. In fact, the
knowledge of this art ranges all over the
continent, from the Kabyles in the north to the
Kafirs in the south. Here between the Rovuma
and the Lukuledi the conditions are not so
favourable. According to the statements of the
Makonde, neither ironstone nor any other
form of iron ore is known to them. They have
not therefore advanced to the art of smelting
the metal, but have hitherto bought all their
THE ANCESTRESS OF
THE MAKONDE
iron implements from neighbouring tribes.
Even in the plain the inhabitants are not much
better off. Only one man now living is said to
understand the art of smelting iron. This old fundi lives close to
Huwe, that isolated, steep-sided block of granite which rises out of
the green solitude between Masasi and Chingulungulu, and whose
jagged and splintered top meets the traveller’s eye everywhere. While
still at Masasi I wished to see this man at work, but was told that,
frightened by the rising, he had retired across the Rovuma, though
he would soon return. All subsequent inquiries as to whether the
fundi had come back met with the genuine African answer, “Bado”
(“Not yet”).
 BRAZIER

Some consolation was afforded me by a brassfounder, whom I

came across in the bush near Akundonde’s. This man is the favourite
of women, and therefore no doubt of the gods; he welds the glittering
brass rods purchased at the coast into those massive, heavy rings
which, on the wrists and ankles of the local fair ones, continually give
me fresh food for admiration. Like every decent master-craftsman he
had all his tools with him, consisting of a pair of bellows, three
crucibles and a hammer—nothing more, apparently. He was quite
willing to show his skill, and in a twinkling had fixed his bellows on
the ground. They are simply two goat-skins, taken off whole, the four
legs being closed by knots, while the upper opening, intended to
admit the air, is kept stretched by two pieces of wood. At the lower
end of the skin a smaller opening is left into which a wooden tube is
stuck. The fundi has quickly borrowed a heap of wood-embers from
the nearest hut; he then fixes the free ends of the two tubes into an
earthen pipe, and clamps them to the ground by means of a bent
piece of wood. Now he fills one of his small clay crucibles, the dross
on which shows that they have been long in use, with the yellow
material, places it in the midst of the embers, which, at present are
only faintly glimmering, and begins his work. In quick alternation
the smith’s two hands move up and down with the open ends of the
bellows; as he raises his hand he holds the slit wide open, so as to let
the air enter the skin bag unhindered. In pressing it down he closes
the bag, and the air puffs through the bamboo tube and clay pipe into
the fire, which quickly burns up. The smith, however, does not keep
on with this work, but beckons to another man, who relieves him at
the bellows, while he takes some more tools out of a large skin pouch
carried on his back. I look on in wonder as, with a smooth round
stick about the thickness of a finger, he bores a few vertical holes into
the clean sand of the soil. This should not be difficult, yet the man
seems to be taking great pains over it. Then he fastens down to the
ground, with a couple of wooden clamps, a neat little trough made by
splitting a joint of bamboo in half, so that the ends are closed by the
two knots. At last the yellow metal has attained the right consistency,
and the fundi lifts the crucible from the fire by means of two sticks
split at the end to serve as tongs. A short swift turn to the left—a
tilting of the crucible—and the molten brass, hissing and giving forth
clouds of smoke, flows first into the bamboo mould and then into the
holes in the ground.
The technique of this backwoods craftsman may not be very far
advanced, but it cannot be denied that he knows how to obtain an
adequate result by the simplest means. The ladies of highest rank in
this country—that is to say, those who can afford it, wear two kinds
of these massive brass rings, one cylindrical, the other semicircular
in section. The latter are cast in the most ingenious way in the
bamboo mould, the former in the circular hole in the sand. It is quite
a simple matter for the fundi to fit these bars to the limbs of his fair
customers; with a few light strokes of his hammer he bends the
pliable brass round arm or ankle without further inconvenience to
the wearer.
SHAPING THE POT

SMOOTHING WITH MAIZE-COB

CUTTING THE EDGE

 FINISHING THE BOTTOM

LAST SMOOTHING BEFORE

BURNING

FIRING THE BRUSH-PILE

 LIGHTING THE FARTHER SIDE OF
THE PILE

TURNING THE RED-HOT VESSEL

NYASA WOMAN MAKING POTS AT MASASI

Pottery is an art which must always and everywhere excite the
interest of the student, just because it is so intimately connected with
the development of human culture, and because its relics are one of
the principal factors in the reconstruction of our own condition in
prehistoric times. I shall always remember with pleasure the two or
three afternoons at Masasi when Salim Matola’s mother, a slightly-
built, graceful, pleasant-looking woman, explained to me with
touching patience, by means of concrete illustrations, the ceramic art
of her people. The only implements for this primitive process were a
lump of clay in her left hand, and in the right a calabash containing
the following valuables: the fragment of a maize-cob stripped of all
its grains, a smooth, oval pebble, about the size of a pigeon’s egg, a
few chips of gourd-shell, a bamboo splinter about the length of one’s
hand, a small shell, and a bunch of some herb resembling spinach.
 Nothing more. The woman scraped with the
shell a round, shallow hole in the soft, fine
sand of the soil, and, when an active young
girl had filled the calabash with water for her,
she began to knead the clay. As if by magic it
gradually assumed the shape of a rough but
already well-shaped vessel, which only wanted
a little touching up with the instruments
before mentioned. I looked out with the
MAKUA WOMAN closest attention for any indication of the use
MAKING A POT. of the potter’s wheel, in however rudimentary
SHOWS THE a form, but no—hapana (there is none). The
BEGINNINGS OF THE embryo pot stood firmly in its little
POTTER’S WHEEL
depression, and the woman walked round it in
a stooping posture, whether she was removing
small stones or similar foreign bodies with the maize-cob, smoothing
the inner or outer surface with the splinter of bamboo, or later, after
letting it dry for a day, pricking in the ornamentation with a pointed
bit of gourd-shell, or working out the bottom, or cutting the edge
with a sharp bamboo knife, or giving the last touches to the finished
vessel. This occupation of the women is infinitely toilsome, but it is
without doubt an accurate reproduction of the process in use among
our ancestors of the Neolithic and Bronze ages.
There is no doubt that the invention of pottery, an item in human
progress whose importance cannot be over-estimated, is due to
women. Rough, coarse and unfeeling, the men of the horde range
over the countryside. When the united cunning of the hunters has
succeeded in killing the game; not one of them thinks of carrying
home the spoil. A bright fire, kindled by a vigorous wielding of the
drill, is crackling beside them; the animal has been cleaned and cut
up secundum artem, and, after a slight singeing, will soon disappear
under their sharp teeth; no one all this time giving a single thought
to wife or child.
To what shifts, on the other hand, the primitive wife, and still more
the primitive mother, was put! Not even prehistoric stomachs could
endure an unvarying diet of raw food. Something or other suggested
the beneficial effect of hot water on the majority of approved but
indigestible dishes. Perhaps a neighbour had tried holding the hard
roots or tubers over the fire in a calabash filled with water—or maybe
an ostrich-egg-shell, or a hastily improvised vessel of bark. They
became much softer and more palatable than they had previously
been; but, unfortunately, the vessel could not stand the fire and got
charred on the outside. That can be remedied, thought our
ancestress, and plastered a layer of wet clay round a similar vessel.
This is an improvement; the cooking utensil remains uninjured, but
the heat of the fire has shrunk it, so that it is loose in its shell. The
next step is to detach it, so, with a firm grip and a jerk, shell and
kernel are separated, and pottery is invented. Perhaps, however, the
discovery which led to an intelligent use of the burnt-clay shell, was
made in a slightly different way. Ostrich-eggs and calabashes are not
to be found in every part of the world, but everywhere mankind has
arrived at the art of making baskets out of pliant materials, such as
bark, bast, strips of palm-leaf, supple twigs, etc. Our inventor has no
water-tight vessel provided by nature. “Never mind, let us line the
basket with clay.” This answers the purpose, but alas! the basket gets
burnt over the blazing fire, the woman watches the process of
cooking with increasing uneasiness, fearing a leak, but no leak
appears. The food, done to a turn, is eaten with peculiar relish; and
the cooking-vessel is examined, half in curiosity, half in satisfaction
at the result. The plastic clay is now hard as stone, and at the same
time looks exceedingly well, for the neat plaiting of the burnt basket
is traced all over it in a pretty pattern. Thus, simultaneously with
pottery, its ornamentation was invented.
Primitive woman has another claim to respect. It was the man,
roving abroad, who invented the art of producing fire at will, but the
woman, unable to imitate him in this, has been a Vestal from the
earliest times. Nothing gives so much trouble as the keeping alight of
the smouldering brand, and, above all, when all the men are absent
from the camp. Heavy rain-clouds gather, already the first large
drops are falling, the first gusts of the storm rage over the plain. The
little flame, a greater anxiety to the woman than her own children,
flickers unsteadily in the blast. What is to be done? A sudden thought
occurs to her, and in an instant she has constructed a primitive hut
out of strips of bark, to protect the flame against rain and wind.
This, or something very like it, was the way in which the principle
of the house was discovered; and even the most hardened misogynist
cannot fairly refuse a woman the credit of it. The protection of the
hearth-fire from the weather is the germ from which the human
dwelling was evolved. Men had little, if any share, in this forward
step, and that only at a late stage. Even at the present day, the
plastering of the housewall with clay and the manufacture of pottery
are exclusively the women’s business. These are two very significant
survivals. Our European kitchen-garden, too, is originally a woman’s
invention, and the hoe, the primitive instrument of agriculture, is,
characteristically enough, still used in this department. But the
noblest achievement which we owe to the other sex is unquestionably
the art of cookery. Roasting alone—the oldest process—is one for
which men took the hint (a very obvious one) from nature. It must
have been suggested by the scorched carcase of some animal
overtaken by the destructive forest-fires. But boiling—the process of
improving organic substances by the help of water heated to boiling-
point—is a much later discovery. It is so recent that it has not even
yet penetrated to all parts of the world. The Polynesians understand
how to steam food, that is, to cook it, neatly wrapped in leaves, in a
hole in the earth between hot stones, the air being excluded, and
(sometimes) a few drops of water sprinkled on the stones; but they
do not understand boiling.
To come back from this digression, we find that the slender Nyasa
woman has, after once more carefully examining the finished pot,
put it aside in the shade to dry. On the following day she sends me
word by her son, Salim Matola, who is always on hand, that she is
going to do the burning, and, on coming out of my house, I find her
already hard at work. She has spread on the ground a layer of very
dry sticks, about as thick as one’s thumb, has laid the pot (now of a
yellowish-grey colour) on them, and is piling brushwood round it.
My faithful Pesa mbili, the mnyampara, who has been standing by,
most obligingly, with a lighted stick, now hands it to her. Both of
them, blowing steadily, light the pile on the lee side, and, when the
flame begins to catch, on the weather side also. Soon the whole is in a
blaze, but the dry fuel is quickly consumed and the fire dies down, so
that we see the red-hot vessel rising from the ashes. The woman
turns it continually with a long stick, sometimes one way and
sometimes another, so that it may be evenly heated all over. In
twenty minutes she rolls it out of the ash-heap, takes up the bundle
of spinach, which has been lying for two days in a jar of water, and
sprinkles the red-hot clay with it. The places where the drops fall are
marked by black spots on the uniform reddish-brown surface. With a
sigh of relief, and with visible satisfaction, the woman rises to an
erect position; she is standing just in a line between me and the fire,
from which a cloud of smoke is just rising: I press the ball of my
camera, the shutter clicks—the apotheosis is achieved! Like a
priestess, representative of her inventive sex, the graceful woman
stands: at her feet the hearth-fire she has given us beside her the
invention she has devised for us, in the background the home she has
built for us.
At Newala, also, I have had the manufacture of pottery carried on
in my presence. Technically the process is better than that already
described, for here we find the beginnings of the potter’s wheel,
which does not seem to exist in the plains; at least I have seen
nothing of the sort. The artist, a frightfully stupid Makua woman, did
not make a depression in the ground to receive the pot she was about
to shape, but used instead a large potsherd. Otherwise, she went to
work in much the same way as Salim’s mother, except that she saved
herself the trouble of walking round and round her work by squatting
at her ease and letting the pot and potsherd rotate round her; this is
surely the first step towards a machine. But it does not follow that
the pot was improved by the process. It is true that it was beautifully
rounded and presented a very creditable appearance when finished,
but the numerous large and small vessels which I have seen, and, in
part, collected, in the “less advanced” districts, are no less so. We
moderns imagine that instruments of precision are necessary to
produce excellent results. Go to the prehistoric collections of our
museums and look at the pots, urns and bowls of our ancestors in the
dim ages of the past, and you will at once perceive your error.
MAKING LONGITUDINAL CUT IN
BARK

DRAWING THE BARK OFF THE LOG

REMOVING THE OUTER BARK

 BEATING THE BARK

WORKING THE BARK-CLOTH AFTER BEATING, TO MAKE IT

SOFT

MANUFACTURE OF BARK-CLOTH AT NEWALA

To-day, nearly the whole population of German East Africa is
clothed in imported calico. This was not always the case; even now in
some parts of the north dressed skins are still the prevailing wear,
and in the north-western districts—east and north of Lake
Tanganyika—lies a zone where bark-cloth has not yet been
superseded. Probably not many generations have passed since such
bark fabrics and kilts of skins were the only clothing even in the
south. Even to-day, large quantities of this bright-red or drab
material are still to be found; but if we wish to see it, we must look in
the granaries and on the drying stages inside the native huts, where
it serves less ambitious uses as wrappings for those seeds and fruits
which require to be packed with special care. The salt produced at
Masasi, too, is packed for transport to a distance in large sheets of
bark-cloth. Wherever I found it in any degree possible, I studied the
process of making this cloth. The native requisitioned for the
purpose arrived, carrying a log between two and three yards long and
as thick as his thigh, and nothing else except a curiously-shaped
mallet and the usual long, sharp and pointed knife which all men and
boys wear in a belt at their backs without a sheath—horribile dictu!
[51]
Silently he squats down before me, and with two rapid cuts has
drawn a couple of circles round the log some two yards apart, and
slits the bark lengthwise between them with the point of his knife.
With evident care, he then scrapes off the outer rind all round the
log, so that in a quarter of an hour the inner red layer of the bark
shows up brightly-coloured between the two untouched ends. With
some trouble and much caution, he now loosens the bark at one end,
and opens the cylinder. He then stands up, takes hold of the free
edge with both hands, and turning it inside out, slowly but steadily
pulls it off in one piece. Now comes the troublesome work of
scraping all superfluous particles of outer bark from the outside of
the long, narrow piece of material, while the inner side is carefully
scrutinised for defective spots. At last it is ready for beating. Having
signalled to a friend, who immediately places a bowl of water beside
him, the artificer damps his sheet of bark all over, seizes his mallet,
lays one end of the stuff on the smoothest spot of the log, and
hammers away slowly but continuously. “Very simple!” I think to
myself. “Why, I could do that, too!”—but I am forced to change my
opinions a little later on; for the beating is quite an art, if the fabric is
not to be beaten to pieces. To prevent the breaking of the fibres, the
stuff is several times folded across, so as to interpose several
thicknesses between the mallet and the block. At last the required
state is reached, and the fundi seizes the sheet, still folded, by both
ends, and wrings it out, or calls an assistant to take one end while he
holds the other. The cloth produced in this way is not nearly so fine
and uniform in texture as the famous Uganda bark-cloth, but it is
quite soft, and, above all, cheap.
Now, too, I examine the mallet. My craftsman has been using the
simpler but better form of this implement, a conical block of some
hard wood, its base—the striking surface—being scored across and
across with more or less deeply-cut grooves, and the handle stuck
into a hole in the middle. The other and earlier form of mallet is
shaped in the same way, but the head is fastened by an ingenious
network of bark strips into the split bamboo serving as a handle. The
observation so often made, that ancient customs persist longest in
connection with religious ceremonies and in the life of children, here
finds confirmation. As we shall soon see, bark-cloth is still worn
during the unyago,[52] having been prepared with special solemn
ceremonies; and many a mother, if she has no other garment handy,
will still put her little one into a kilt of bark-cloth, which, after all,
looks better, besides being more in keeping with its African
surroundings, than the ridiculous bit of print from Ulaya.
MAKUA WOMEN