The Story of Captain Baby Face and the Coffee Maker: An Entrepreneurial Narrative Perspective on Corruption

Literature Review

Existing literature implies an inherently nefarious character of corruption. According to the World Bank (2016), “a corrupt practice is the offering, giving, receiving or soliciting, directly or indirectly, anything of value to influence improperly the actions of another party.” Clearly, there is an assumption that corruption exists because of a distortion of values. However, it could also be an ontological question because values are generally defined by societal and organizational ontologies. Corruption typically occurs when a transaction is consummated between official and private actors (Treisman, 2000). This may include the abuse of public power for private benefit, which normally implies reciprocity (Tanzi, 1998). Ashforth, Gioia, Robinson, and Treviño (2008) and Tanzi (2000) describe corruption as a contagion that spreads from the individual to the industry level. Welsh, Ordóñez, Snyder, and Christian (2014) introduce corruption by painting a picture of an inherently wicked practice, and indicate that prosaic forms of corruption, or minor indiscretions, may snowball into major violations if left unchecked. Smith-Crowe and Warren (2014) describe corruption as a form of organizational wrongdoing, irrespective of motive. Corruption can be considered as unethical behavior trickling from the top down, whereby managers encourage subordinates to engage in misconduct (Brown, Treviño, & Harrison, 2005). Corruption is frequently highlighted as a pattern of impropriety because organizational and personal norms do not align (Palmer, 2012; Schminke, Ambrose, & Neubaum, 2005; Victor & Cullen, 1988; Warren, 2003). Corruption may correlate with lower investment and growth (Mauro, 1995). In this article, I use a simplistic definition of corruption: providing a good or service not in accordance with ontological orientation and with the expectation of an induced deviation from routine.

Humans are essentially storytelling animals, and a narrative is a story people tell (Gartner, 2007). A story is defined as a specific series of representations, practices, and performances through which meanings are produced and connected into performances through which meanings are blended into networks and legitimized, and therefore have their own self-contained definitions of true and false (Petterson, 2004). They include a variety of texts such as personal and social histories, myths, tales, novels, and fait divers that are used to explain or justify our behaviors and actions, and a change thereof (Smith & Anderson, 2004). Stories represent an elegant way of transmitting values and relating events (Buckler & Zien, 1996). Due to a lack of absolutism in processual orientations, narrative approaches focus on the how and why behind exchanges (Katz, 2004). The evocative and exploratory effects of narratives represent both a meaning system and a method (Smith & Anderson, 2004). In other words, narrative approaches guide our understanding by which undertakings are actually accomplished through the telling of stories in ways that highlight both entrepreneurship and human nature (Gartner, 2007). Narratives are particularly relevant to the study of entrepreneurship because the life of the entrepreneur is a storybook life, creating a business not unlike writing a story (Katz, 2004).

While narratives have been explored as an articulatory device (Hernes, 2014; Spinosa et al., 1999) less has been explored with respect to material objects with an embodied metaphor (Clarke & Holt, 2010; Lounsbury & Glynn, 2001) and implied narrative, which has a similar articulatory and entrepreneurial effect. These material objects may include gifts exchanged during low-level corruption. Articulation is the ability to highlight a situation through the merging of past, present, and future with abstract values and voices from stakeholders, and in said process of transforming from gathering to dispersion, render the implicit explicit. It is a process of clarifying and integrating that relies on the assumption that narrative in lieu of rational arguments are avenues of building and examining organizational creativity (Hjorth, 2014), and it is through narratives that a context is potentialized and individuals are compelled to act (Aldrich & Fiol, 1994; Hjorth, 2007; Lounsbury & Glynn, 2001). This axiom is reminiscent of concepts from Follett (1919) and Barnard (1938) that state through explanations, a manager can render obscure goals clear and use rhetoric as a tool for mobilizing stakeholders, and that entrepreneurial leadership is defined as the ability to motivate others to move (Hjorth & Gartner, 2014).

Narratives are engaged to undermine dominant discourses (Hjorth, 2004, 2007, 2014). So, too, may narratives be used to subvert ontologies (Downing, 2005). Subversion of dominant ideas is particularly germane to the narrative approach, due to an emphasis on the small, localized, and personal in ways that narratives are ontologically complete (Downing, 2005; Gartner, 2007). Changing narratives may induce a shift from an ontology of being, to an ontology of becoming, or a processual orientation (Fletcher & Watson, 2007; Hjorth, 2007).

Entrepreneurship is founded on narrative storytelling—convincing others to move (Hjorth & Gartner, 2014), directing their desires, organizing resources, focusing on anomalies (Spinosa et al., 1999), the playful, emotions (Hjorth, 2007), and embracing potentiality (Gartner, 2007) via the small narrative (Boje, 2001; Fletcher, 2007). Through a skillful narrative, conflicting elements, such as organizational boundaries, can be shed (Follett, 1919, 1924, 1940) if we operate under the assumption that structure is temporal and not spatial (Burgelman, 1983), and purer forms of an abstraction may more effectively be interpreted through narratives. This discourse expands upon the aforementioned definitions and postulates that entrepreneurship is the ability to tell an evocative story—that is a story robust enough that in its articulatory processes dismantles original orientations and generates a shared understanding of a newly spawned organizational ontology.

Corruption within prisons (Klein, Mahoney, McGahan, & Pitelis, 2013; Urbina, 2009) and the military (Baum & McGahan, 2013; Eisenhower, 1961) has been investigated as public service organizations interact with private actors. However, little exploration has been made on corruption between public service organizations that share disparate chains of command and have different ontological orientations. Furthermore, a narrative study of entrepreneurship can address the lack of empirical analysis of cross-cultural entrepreneurship and individual trajectories (Vaara et al., 2016).

Corruption is complex and difficult to measure (Treisman, 2000). One reason is that corrupt behavior takes place subvertly and may not be linked to financial incentives (Tanzi, 2000), requiring organizational membership to gain sophisticated firsthand knowledge of the phenomenon. For example, many studies on organizational corruption remain confidential and are contained within the organization. Economics literature has traditionally focused on the economic or financial cost of corruption (Klein et al., 2013) but these analyses largely focus on the output of economic “bads” of corruption, while glazing over the processes that lead to corruption and the immediate aftermath. As a result, understanding the prosaics of corruption along with its emotional and narrative elements warrants a more hands-on methodology.

Finally, this composition provides an alternate identification of conflicting principles of organizational models being integrated for new forms of cooperation to emerge. Downing (2005), and Rae and Carswell (2000, 2001) profess that entrepreneurship requires organizational development that is highly personal and relationship-based, whereas Baron, Hannan, and Burton (1999) describe a model of organizational development more akin to controlling employees that more closely resembles a bureaucracy. Downing espouses that a narrative approach to entrepreneurship may explain the gap in these models. This article advances his work by abstracting these models to the ontological level and illustrating how corrupt practices embodied in artifacts as metaphors (Clarke & Holt, 2010; Lounsbury & Glynn, 2001) and accompanying implied narrative can bridge the divide between these two fundamentally divergent perspectives.

Method

The methodology incorporated within this article is the layered account autoethnography. This article is a series of personal short stories detailing corruption; therefore, a story-based methodology revolving around individual experiences is fitting. Autoethnography is an orientation that adapts individual and prosaic experiences as a technique to best demonstrate a phenomenon (Fletcher, 2011; Steyaert, 2011). This method is germane to the study of organizational entrepreneurship and corruption for a multitude of reasons.

First, Hjorth (2013) states that entrepreneurship is manifested through interorganizational relationships that fluctuate between a continual series of transitions spanning movement and slower movement, that is, rest, implying a process of movement culminating toward articulation. This process is similar to corruption in that both are cultural phenomena and are characterized through discrete acts. To understand this opaque spanning of processes, a narrative approach (Johannisson & Olaison, 2007; Vaara et al., 2016) with accompanying thick descriptions (Geertz, 1994) is befitting. Specifically, this technique is relevant to this article because it is an examination of corruption as a form of firsthand action. Likewise, it necessitates a hands-on methodology because the inspections of firm behavior require ethnographic research (Fletcher, 2007, 2011; Johannisson, Ramirez-Pasillas, & Karlson, 2002).

Second, autoethnography does not define the self as an isolated object to be studied in abstraction, but rather blurs the line between self and other (Rambo, 2005; Spry, 2001), and requires an incorporation of the researcher’s regular lifestyle experiences (Anderson, 2006; Sparkes, 2000) or biography (Fletcher, 2011; Hjorth, 2007; Johannisson, 2011). This blurring of boundaries is central to the discourse presented in this article, because it reflects the author’s experiences as an army captain, combined with those of the stakeholders, along with a contemporary identity as a researcher, in the struggle to understand the relationship between entrepreneurship and corruption.

Third, unlike alternative research methodologies, autoethnography is heavily influenced by the memory of the researcher. This is particularly relevant because the events described herein transpired almost 6 years ago as of the date of this writing. The time between the description of these events and their occurrence is advantageous, because retrospective recall can serve as a robust sensemaking device in contrast to more mainstream techniques (Ellis, 1999; Fletcher, 2007; Rambo, 2005). Actors reformulate past experiences to incorporate their current understanding of a phenomenon (Hernes, 2014; Kline, 1986; Luhman, 1995). This concretizes the use of autoethnography as appropriate because I am describing my own experiences, exploring the stories of my stakeholders, and reformulating these experiences post hoc.

The structure of this autoethnography is a vignette-based layered account autoethnography, inspired by the works of Ellis (1992, 1999, 2004, 2007, 2009), Rambo (2005, 2007), and Ronai (1992, 1995, 1997). My struggle with corruption is depicted in a series of vignettes that blends theory with experience, emotions, and hunches (Fletcher, 2011; Johannisson, 2011) to form a more dynamic sensemaking device. There is no universally accepted method of performing an autoethnography. It is more of an orientation than a methodology, but the process emulates the exemplary work of Carol Rambo and Carolyn Ellis. There is a degree of separation from the events of the empirical setting; however, they continue to evoke robust emotional responses that are further stimulated by the data sources collected during the occurrence of these events. These responses are recorded within the storytelling vignettes, and contained within a 60-page article. Each vignette is then circumscribed by theory or post hoc explanations which were composed within days to provide a degree of outsider perspective as a researcher. This autoethnography provides a robust story that combines aspects of academic inquiry and prosaic autobiography to contribute to both academicians’ and practitioners’ understanding of the modes in which corruption and entrepreneurship are forms of organizational deviance. The article has been reduced to match the format of an article-based autoethnography. Vignette titles that are in italics represent storytelling vignettes, and vignette titles in bold characterize post hoc theoretical explanations.

The technique of a layered account autoethnography vastly differs from more conventional academic research in several ways. First, colloquial language is used in the storytelling vignettes to portray a type of emotional sensemaking for the reader, a link further strengthened through gritty, often uncomfortable details that provide additional realism to the dialogue. Second, a significant portion of the literature review and theory development is not relegated to separate sections, but is found in the theory-building vignettes that both precede and follow the storytelling vignettes. The informal style, the direct dialogue with the reader, and the anti-chronological storytelling render a layered account’s style as a blend of Faulkner, personal diary, and formal academic thought.

Multiple data sources for this project were most beneficial. Initially, I composed a diary and field notes of my army experiences to write an autobiography and to contribute to the historical knowledge of the conflict in Iraq. There are few narratives of staff officers in the military with the exception of Turner (1947). I continue to speak frequently with many of my former military colleagues and we reflect upon our experiences. The data sources are not used to objectify the past but rather represent the vast array of potential data sources using narrative approaches. The vignettes examine the past, and incorporate and record my evocative response to this event, and fully encompass the current actuality. The premise is that this process of retrospective sensemaking is appropriate for the theoretical orientation of this article and corresponds to practitioners’ relating to past experiences. Identities have been altered, including changing the names of the individuals described in the story, as well as lightly revising a portion of the story’s details to avoid incriminating individuals portrayed in this narrative, and protect classified military information.

A Perfect Bureaucracy or Not?

Weber (1958, 2009) consistently described the military as a perfect bureaucracy, which is surprising because Weber had been a reserve officer and because many of his military contemporaries described the military as anything but a perfect bureaucracy (Remarque, 1929; Von Clausewitz, 2004). The words and attitudes of my commander clearly resounded the latter. Out of one side of his mouth, he preached classic Judeo-Christian values while delivering the message in a very derogatory manner, and outwardly expressed fear and insecurity over his position as a commander.

The “perfect” bureaucracy can best be defined via the Undifferentiated Individual Ontology (Stout, 2012). In this ontology, a metaphysical “One” is comparable with an obscure organizational value, moral code, or perhaps even something like a form (Plato, 2013) or an eternal object (Whitehead, 1978). Smaller “ones” are also presented, which attempt to imitate the big “One” even if their natures fundamentally differ. To exemplify, consider a big “One”—Think of a copy machine that produces unique copies unlike the machine itself, or an apparatus that makes nails, yet in no way resembles an actual nail. The void or gap between the big “One” and the small “one” or colloquially, the commander’s ability to deliver a hateful narrative filled with uncertainty and racism of which I was expected, yet unable, to imitate is the source of ambiguity.

This ambiguity is a key concept in the problem of universals (Plato, 2013), that is, how a lack of guidance on the generalities leads to freedom of interpretations on the specifics while endeavoring to bridge the gap between the ideal and the actual. Consequently, the ambiguity birthed a space in our bureaucracy a la de Certeau (de Certeau, 1984; Hjorth, 2004) which provided the latitude to maneuver, although it took considerable time to realize this freedom existed. Moreover, the specifics of our mission were incredibly vague, providing room for reinterpretation of a general standard of values, and paving the way for entrepreneurship in a public organization (Gore, 1994; Llewellyn & Jones, 2003; Teske & Schneider, 1994).

Additional Gaps in the Bureaucracy

Bureaucracies are remarkably adept at managing routine work and situations (Tsoukas & Chia, 2002; Weber, 1958, 2009). However, the work cycle of my unit was anything but regular. While the binge cycle provided little room for innovation or creative thinking, the purge cycle provided idleness. In Iraq, there were minimal distractions during free time other than watching pirated DVDs and a weightlifting. As a result, I was able to invent creative avenues to benefit from my temporary idleness, including working with Iraqis. What’s more, conflicting identities provide additional spaces (de Certeau, 1984; Hjorth, 2004) in the bureaucracy. In contrast to many of my peers, I did not wholly identify as a soldier, but possessed other facets to my character and alternate goals that did not coincide (such as a desire to eventually become a scholar), but were not necessarily in conflict with the military bureaucracy, a concept of identity reminiscent of Barnard’s (1938) and Follett’s (1919, 1924, 1940) ideas of multiple selves in the interpretation of values or a big “One.”

Our commander used a narrative of coercion and fear as a means to bridge the gap between his “One” and our “one” (Stout, 2012) or how to ingress forms (Plato, 2013) or eternal objects (Whitehead, 1978) into reality. Nonetheless, I began to cling to irregularities or anomalies (Spinosa et al., 1999) within the Undifferentiated Individual Ontology, which stemmed from my alternate identity of self (Barnard, 1938; Follett, 1919, 1924, 1940) that deviated not only from the “One” but also from my peer “ones.” Furthermore, the irregular work cycle provided the time to wish for what would otherwise be (Fletcher & Watson, 2007; Hernes, 2014). A desire for an alternate potentiality spurred me to embark on a path of narrative entrepreneurship due to a lack of engagement with my commander’s dominant narrative.

Confronting an Alternate Ontology

Unknowingly at the time, shocks can further expand the space in a bureaucracy and lead to narrative entrepreneurship due to a disengagement with bureaucratic dominant narrative and contingent reality. As I went to meet my counterparts with the slick precision and confidence that characterizes the military bureaucrat, they portrayed themselves in a distinctly different manner. Fu’ad presented himself as a hyper-confident and charismatic bureaucrat who was smoother than ex-lax. Hassem, in contrast, looked and smelled like a bull in a China shop. Because I had never encountered such individuals in either my professional or personal life, I was uncertain how I should deal with them, putting me in an ambiguous situation for which the intricacies of regulation were unequipped to deal. I was unsure how to proceed which opened my mind to alternative solutions or forms and accepting a space for play (Hjorth, 2004).

The meeting with my counterparts shook me to new potentialities for two reasons. First, I was forced to face a situation outside of my training, necessitating an exploration of alternate possibilities to solve new problems. Second, it required me to reckon with an organizational ontology and accompanying structure fundamentally in conflict with my own: the Differentiated Individual Ontology (Stout, 2012). In this ontology, each actor is a universe unto himself. They define and pursue each opportunity to the fullest extent without restraint, because each is their own “One” and the ability to define narratives is distributed and unrestrained. This means that individuals who follow this ontological position focus on a narrative of “rule making.” My counterparts clearly focused on pursuing their obligations almost entirely for their own personal gratification without regulatory or legal constraint—a sharp contrast to my own organizational experience.

In the army, we attempted to perform our duties to the fullest satisfaction of the law or our commander’s intent, whereas the Iraqis seemed to pursue their mission to their fullest personal satisfaction, which included meeting the needs of their friends, families, and colleagues, without any directly unifying prerogative. See Figure 1 for an illustration of the Differentiated Relational Ontology.

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 1.

Ontologies and Narratives of the Iraqi Corrections Service and the United States Army.

The Space Within and Between Bureaucracies Widens

My previous experiences working with the commander and the Iraqis destabilized and generated feelings of exclusion and, thereby in some innocuous way, made me vulnerable to gaps in my own organizational mind-set (Downing, 2005). The commander, with a narrative projecting his foul mood and rather overt disdain for the Iraqis, widened the ontological space between our respective organizations, despite the fact that we were in theory merged into a singularity devoted to a common mission, which affirmed his position as a “Guardian” with a total lack of entrepreneurial maturity (Clarke & Holt, 2010). At this point, the gap was not only within the U.S. military bureaucracy, but his attitude and demeanor impeded collaboration and expanded the gap between two distinctly different organizational ontologies—the U.S. military style of bureaucracy stemming from the Undifferentiated Individual Ontology and the Iraqi bureaucracy deriving from the Differentiated Individual Ontology (Stout, 2012).

Filling of the Bureaucratic Space

My previous experience with the Iraqis, in particular with my counterparts Fu’ad and Hassem, forced me to abandon my prior ontology. I began to search for new alternatives, and acknowledge an anomalous circumstance (Spinosa et al., 1999) and to explore what might otherwise be (Fletcher & Watson, 2007; Hernes, 2014). Searching for creative and alternative options guided my actions as we began conducting the initial in-processing with the Iraqi guards. I was faced with numerous situations that proved a divergence between the Undifferentiated Individual Ontology and the reality we faced (Downing, 2005; Stout, 2012). The initial plan of in-processing a handful of guards versus in-processing more than two companies of guards put us all in scramble mode. I used a narrative to identify slack and, therefore, anomalous resources I believed might be available, then recombine them to meet an immediate obligation based on my own abilities, thus facilitating the breaking of my own rules and generating a novel narrative explanation to resolve an immediate contingency. These resources included equipment and manpower from other units to immediately assist in the process. It also included an improvised search for extra food for the Iraqis.

When the food plan failed, any semblance of bureaucratic formalities disintegrated. Clearly, the Iraqis did not respect my rank, my position, or my “One” and even viewed one of my female soldiers as nothing more than property to be passed around for their personal enjoyment. Their behavior further confirmed the Differentiated Individual Ontology with a narrative of rule making that thrived on hedonistic pursuit of any opportunity; that is, they were entitled to food, as well as the right to sexually abuse a female service member in exchange for an inconvenience. The agitation became so intense we feared for our safety, further justifying the need to generate an alternate way of thinking (Downing, 2005; Vaara et al., 2016). The cumulative tension pushed my search for an alternative narrative from my perspective. I decided to either fill this interontological void with new courses of action based on humorous, albeit sarcastic narratives and anecdotes, or to fill in the ever expanding space for play (Hjorth, 2004). The remarks I made to the spokesperson of the angry Iraqis were outside of my normal professional character, yet somehow I benefited from jokes to diffuse the anger of the situation. The success of these techniques opened my mind to other possibilities for action, analogous to the use of narratives in organizational emergence—the process of exploring what might otherwise be, that is, potentiality (Gartner, 2007; Hernes, 2014). Perhaps I could begin to fill in the space within and between our organizations with something novel.

Another Form of Entrepreneurship?

I was clearly ready to begin training with Hassem despite the fact that he promoted an alternative agenda which seemed to confirm his alternate ontological position. At first blush, I did not see the relevance of a coffee maker to working together, but Hassem’s alternative narrative foreshadowed the lessons he had learned from his Korean counterparts, narratives which hinted that working with Americans was not an opportunity for any meaningful collaboration between public organizations as I envisioned, but rather represented an entrepreneurial opportunity. On one hand, this opportunity could be considered a form of corruption, namely, he was using his position as a civil servant for private gain (Tanzi, 1998). But if we consider an opportunity kindred to an alignment with a form or eternal object (Whitehead, 1978) and, therefore morally neutral, then entrepreneurship and corruption can be construed as behaviors that deviate from normal organizational practice and narrative, both representing the pursuit of alternate opportunities epitomizing Plato’s discussion of morals (and also opportunities for entrepreneurship) are one thing in general and many in particular (Plato, 2013). In this case, the narrative spark needed to initiate the pursuit of an opportunity and, therefore, alternate potentiality (Gartner, 2007; Hernes, 2014), was a coffee maker, a metaphor of corruption, and the activities that would follow could be used to fill in the gaps not within an organization as previously mentioned, but between two very different cultures and organizations. As far as I could discern at this point, the corruption seemed to have a distinctly under the table character as in subtle bribery (Steiner & Steiner, 1980).

A Shift in Perceptions From Covert to Overt Corruption

In contrast to Hassem’s more subtle style, Fu’ad had no qualms whatsoever about soliciting goods from one of the flag officers of the U.S. military. In fact, he would not take “no” for an answer, and the Task Force Commander’s reaction about Fu’ad’s behavior seems to legitimize this solicitation of corruption. Clearly, Fu’ad’s narrative revolved around personal enrichment through flattery and pleading, which like Hassem and the in-processed guards’ experiences, confirms how the particulars of narratives of the Iraqis differed somewhat, but via abstraction through the theory of Forms (Plato, 2013) or integration (Follett, 1919, 1924, 1940) they all lead back to the Differentiated Individual Ontology (Stout, 2012). Corruption now appeared out in the open, as described in the concept of open bribery (Steiner & Steiner, 1980). Yet even after that incident, I had trouble fully comprehending the scope and scale of their corruption. I knew the Iraqis had a modus operandi different than my own, but I could not quite explain the differences. I realized there existed a space for play (Hjorth, 2004), that is, a gap between organizations, but I remained uncertain how to fill this gap.

A Naive Officer Finally Got It in Black and White

Perhaps because it was outside my normal realm of experience and vastly outside my ontological orientation that I did not recognize the Iraqis alternate ontological stance or successfully interpret their narratives, which seemed to be a proving ground for the antecedents of corruption. But when Firas explained it to me, I understood. Corruption shifted in my mind, from something that was funny, ridiculous, and obscure to something that for the Iraqis was a procedural prerequisite for breaking into their ontology and integrating into their narrative (Spinosa et al., 1999). If I relied on regulations to guide my behavior, then they used personal incentives to direct their actions. We performed our duties with a narrative focusing on a long-term career; they preferred to satisfy basic needs such as hunger and secure safety for themselves and their families. I still did not believe these people were evil, nor was I particularly certain that their actions were unjustified. Much like I used a narrative of rule breaking and personal deviance when in-processing the Iraqi guards and interpreting my commander’s cruel intentions, was it not appropriate for them to fill their own organizational spaces with a rule making narrative which they understood to be appropriate even if I happened to regard their narratives as hedonistic? I had an emergency in the in-processing center that justified my actions, and they had their entire country destroyed which could also justify their behavior. In some ways, contingencies provide a moment of clarity and guide our focus on what really matters (Grint, 2005; Johannisson & Olaison, 2007), including finding ways to fill spaces within and between organizations via an alternate narrative (Downing, 2005; Vaara et al., 2016).

Sadness and Confusion

Every organization has its high and low points. In the Army, we rejoiced when we returned home from war, we wept when friends passed, and when we left our families yet again. These were our difficulties, but we did not face the same hardships as the Iraqis because we benefit from a stable government. When the Iraqis went home, they faced a very different, confusing world. We thought about having a good future within our bureaucracy, contributing to a longer term view of our lives and our careers; this was, however, an anathema for them. They had uncertain careers, uncertain fates at home, and a short-term vision which can contribute to increased corruption (Treisman, 2000). But can a moral justification be passed on people who wish to enjoy what precious little time they have on this earth? Could they not be in some way similar to necessity entrepreneurs (Block & Sandner, 2009)? Perhaps our organizational culture is reflected in our ontologies—We were trained to value loyalty to our organization or big “One” as in the Undifferentiated Individual Ontology, whereas their priorities focused on individual initiative and short-term gain as shown in the Differentiated Individual Ontology and the accompanying narrative of rule making, even if it meant killing off other “Ones.”

Giving In to Corruption or Not?

My investigations into the truancy issues showed widespread corruption and confirmed the findings of several bodies of literature describing the phenomenon. First, this story illustrates how a weak banking system and government infrastructure can contribute to corruption (Treisman, 2000). It is also an interesting example of corruption caused by greed instead of need. It illustrates how a simple “gift” can work as a remarkable bridge to an organization receptive to such rewards (Huntington, 2006; Leff, 1964). In this case, the coffee maker bridged rank, age, status, even organizational ontology! With something so small, a huge divide was breached. The simple coffee maker spanned a widening gap between two very different organizations with vastly divergent ontological perspectives. Because of an implicit narrative focusing on cooperation, this simple material object enabled me to engage in public service entrepreneurship (Gore, 1994; Llewellyn & Jones, 2003; Teske & Schneider, 1994).

The coffee maker showed that I was willing to break out of my previous ontological stance, not only in narrative but also in action. I had shifted from making sarcastic remarks and pleas for help through conventional channels to full-fledged acknowledgment of the merits of another potential narrative. The material object of the coffee maker was physical, touchable proof that I was willing to step toward their Differentiated Individual Ontology and accompanying narrative (Vaara et al., 2016), and represented the point where words (a narrative) became a deed (the providing of a gift and changing my practices) (Fletcher & Watson, 2007; Gartner, 1993).

This type of entrepreneurship, facilitated by corruption, is fundamentally different from more conventional perspectives in entrepreneurship that are between an organization and the market. Instead, the coffee maker, with an implied narrative, worked to articulate an opportunity. Under this perspective, the opportunity, or “One” is realized when a gap or void between disparate organizations is bridged, via an alignment between shared values (the big “One” or in our case a successful prison transition), and two different organizational perspectives were bridged by the coffee maker. So, opportunity is not an endpoint and not a profit, but rather an orientation that at a given moment in time fosters cooperation.

The alternate ontology that was born from the gift of the coffee maker was the Differentiated Relational Ontology (Stout, 2012). In this ontology, the big “One” is interpreted individually, relationally, and abstractly, in contrast to the Undifferentiated Individual Ontology where the big “One” only has a single correct interpretation, and any variation is seen as a perversion of this master interpretation. Here, we see that each individual can interpret a value or form on their own and, in conjunction with their partners or even in other potential roles, explore the best way to reach this goal. The coffee maker was the bridge that enabled us to individually and jointly realize our shared ontology with a narrative of cooperation. See Figure 1 for an illustration of an opportunity articulated by the coffee maker.

Corruption as a Form of Narrative Entrepreneurship

In contrast to perspectives that emphasize the moral pitfalls of corruption, it can also be used to further development through the financing of projects (Tanzi & Davoodi, 1998). On one hand, it can be argued that Fu’ad was corrupt because he was taking money for what might be personal gain. On the other hand, he was taking money from a largely indifferent U.S. government and supposedly using it for the benefit of the Iraqi people. If this was indeed true, then Fu’ad’s behavior was actually in line with principles of public service entrepreneurship (Gore, 1994; Llewellyn & Jones, 2003; Teske & Schneider, 1994). Expressly, he was misappropriating American money in creative ways for the very people, the Iraqi public, for whom he had sworn to serve. Although the corrupt behavior might be deemed malevolent to the American taxpayer, it was providing a life changing benefit for a select group of Iraqis. I, too, had been a public service entrepreneur because I provided a coffee maker and countless supplies to the Iraqis which filled an organizational space and facilitated collaboration to the point that the “fog of war” between two different organizational ontologies was bridged. Our actions were indeed anomalous (Spinosa et al., 1999), but we created and supported our shared narrative and newly spawned ontology—a form of entrepreneurship especially relevant to public organizations (Gore, 1994; Llewellyn & Jones, 2003; Teske & Schneider, 1994). Our narratives were no longer focusing on rule breaking or rule making, but rather on rule co-construction, representing narrative entrepreneurship (Spinosa et al., 1999) and reflecting a full shift from an ontology of being to an ontology of becoming (Fletcher & Watson, 2007; Hjorth, 2007). Furthermore, our narratives affirmed an entrepreneurial character by bridging and coalescing the social, material, and the opportunity (Garud & Giuliani, 2013).

Corruption as a Facilitator

Although corruption is frequently classified as something abominable, it also has positive attributes. Most notably, it expedited a process that otherwise might have been impossible—getting to the bottom of the missing money and facilitating collaboration with our counterparts. Providing gifts and engaging in bribery is not something evil per se, but promotes the forging of a shared narrative and ontology including serving as a proxy for the cost of time for those who have limited patience (Lui, 1985; Tanzi, 1998). Those who have time will not pay, and those, like me, with only 2 months left, will pay to succeed in a “Mission Impossible.” It inspired me to make compromises for the achievement of a shared narrative and ontology. In return, my counterparts modified their behavior so that everyone could enjoy success. The alignment or opportunity shown in Figure 1 was greatly strengthened by providing the coffee maker. A model of the ontological and narrative shift is further explained in Figure 1.

Discussion

This work has provided an autoethnographic examination of the trials and tribulations of working with an openly corrupt organization. It has portrayed corruption as an alternative behavior arising from irregularities and cracks or gaps in and between organizations. Corrupt behavior, such as providing gifts to civil servants or misappropriating funds from a foreign government, may be a method to achieve success in contexts where corruption is a relatively accepted practice, when reality does not match ontology, and when emergencies or other confrontations force an abandonment of beliefs (Downing, 2005; Vaara et al., 2016). This story uses corruption as a platform to connect to multiple bodies of entrepreneurship literature.

This work also contributes to the study of public service entrepreneurship. Low-level corruption, like public service entrepreneurship, represents a novel way to manage relationships and alter procedures for the greater public good (Llewellyn & Jones, 2003), perhaps despite regulations. Public service entrepreneurship focuses on tactical mechanisms that may be represented via material objects (Gore, 1994), innovative leadership (Currie et al., 2008), or operational improvements such as Lean Six Sigma (George & George, 2003). I have identified little research on the “gift giving” within or between bureaucracies. So, while this article confirms the spirit of public service entrepreneurship, it also extends its letter and provides an alternate mechanism incorporated within this type of entrepreneurship.

The lack of long-term commitment resulting from corrupt behaviors in this category of organization highlights a number of pros and cons associated with corrupt behaviors. The use of a gift is indeed a double-edged sword. Organizations that are normally inflexible due to high levels of bureaucracy and rigidity may appreciate spaces for play (Hjorth, 2004) via these behaviors. However, lack of commitment and up-front investment may render gift giving unsuitable for long-term legitimacy building, as this implies strategic calculation, or rational and short-term choices, in lieu of normative suasion, or almost total socialization (Checkel, 2005). Of course, the Iraqi’s storming out the back gate with all of the supplies we gave them is indicative of the fact that shared goals do not necessarily equate to shared meaning.

When the opportunity exists between organizations, especially those with different goals, values, or even ontologies, then a conception of opportunity not revolving around a teleological endpoint should be explored. Perhaps in lieu of a discovered/created opportunity inside or within a market, the integrative (Follett, 1919) perspective of articulation (Hernes, 2014; Spinosa et al., 1999) involving a material object or corrupt practice may be relevant. This perspective normally benefits from the use of a story or narrative to highlight alignment between disparate organizational perspectives (Downing, 2005). In lieu of a conventional narrative, the coffee maker served as the articulatory device via an implied narrative or metaphor (Clarke & Holt, 2010; Lounsbury & Glynn, 2001). This device was effective because it embodied a story with a goal of cooperation.

Without realizing it, my counterparts and I were telling our story to one other in our own ways—We both moved away from out normal behavior in a way that centered on a coffee maker. See Figure 1 for an example of this illustration. My Iraqi counterparts requested a coffee maker from me, typifying their corrupt behavior and embodying solicitations which I resented, and which was outside my scope of thinking as shown in the Undifferentiated Individual Ontology (Stout, 2012). Yet I began to see my suppositions did not match the combined reality and were perhaps no more than abstractions (Plato, 2013). Therefore, I compromised and, perhaps like Eve, chose to take a fateful bite from that apple. In return for taking that step, my Iraqi friends took a step toward me. As a result, they performed as competent and capable bureaucrats and we achieved our joint opportunity.

Alas, no orientation lasts forever, and our temporarily shared belief system, revolving around the coffee maker, like an actual entity (Whitehead, 1978) flashed and dissipated as we each went our separate ways, which reflects the belief that meaning as part of the process of becoming, is never finalized (Downing, 2005; Hernes, 2014; O’Connor, 2002; Thorpe, Gold, Holt, & Clarke, 2006). It also echoes the idea that under the Differentiated Relational Ontology, our narrative was shared, but the meaning was not necessarily shared—We both coproduced our model or ontology (Downing, 2005) and, thus, we contributed to it in our own ways and for our own reasons. My hope is that the aftermath of our narrative, actualized by a coffee maker, has remained with them to the same extent as it has for me. I hope our shared narrative in its echo form has integrated itself into their larger narratives and ontologies and possibly altered their perspectives in accordance with narrative entrepreneurship (Spinosa et al., 1999)

Conclusion

The identification of national or organizational priorities can assist in the identification of critical shortages or regulatory oversights (Dresang, 1973), thus stimulating the solicitation of gifts. Gift giving may be particularly valuable when expedient and flexible solutions outside the realm of possibility for organizations relying on traditional modes of authority are required. My empirical setting was an organization stereotyped as highly bureaucratic and managed through coercive and normative mechanisms. Despite this image, space existed for unconventional forms of entrepreneurship.

Perhaps public service entrepreneurs could weave other stories via norm-based empowerment entrepreneurship. While some managers provide “forgiveness coupons” to their civil servants, others provide reinvention permission slips (Cooren, 2004), which could in some ways reward individuals who take tactical short cuts in favor of longer term goals. One such civil servant managing his staff entrepreneurially was Secretary of Education Dick Riley. Every employee had slips in their wallet and it invited the employees to ask the following questions: (a) Is it good for my customers? (b) Is it legal and ethical? (c) Is it something I am willing to be accountable for? (d) Is it consistent with my agency’s mission? (e) Am I using my time wisely? (f) Is the answer yes to all of these questions? and (g) If so, don’t ask permission. You already have it. Just do it! (Gore, 1994).

Such a physical object embodies a robust narrative or metaphor (Clarke & Holt, 2010; Lounsbury & Glynn, 2001) of empowerment, akin to a similar way of how a coffee maker enabled two organizations—one with a narrative of rule enforcement shifting to rule breaking, another of rule making shifted to a Different Relational Ontology with a narrative of rule co-constructing. Although the ethics of these gifts may be questionable according to the audience, such practices conform to Dick Riley’s parameters aforementioned above, including legality. Perhaps other public servants in similar situations may be equally encouraged and empowered to engage in similar behavior when dealing with corrupt host bureaucracies, yet also be cognizant of its pitfalls.

Further research would explore replications of low-level corruption. One single act performed miracles—but what about multiple acts? Is there a process of socialization that would occur as Checkel (2005) indicates? Or perhaps would it create a dependency plagued by bribery, much like a drug addiction? Would providing these gifts shift from a narrative form of entrepreneurship or articulation to a narrative form of bureaucracy—where corruption has been institutionalized as perhaps even a bonus system? Can ontologies be bridged with only a narrative and not with a symbol of corruption? These questions on the future, repetition, and reification of corrupt behaviors deserve further exploration.

Academics may view limitations to this research. First, the use of autoethnography implies a sample size of one, limiting generalizability. However, this is only problematic if we assume reality, including corruption, is even generalizable, which is not assumed under the epistemology of this article. In addition, the setting of this article is unusual. Most civil servants in Western bureaucracies would not work in these particular conditions or have the degree of leeway that I possessed. The use of emotion as a sensemaking device can stimulate others to use reasoning by analogy to solve similar problems in their own organizations, so even if the empirical settings differ, the emotional response and, therefore, the evocative guide may be analogous.