Pecking Orders

    I asked Keith Lockhart, conductor of the Boston Pops Orchestra, for a permission. Would he allow me to photograph him up close during a performance? I’d work fast, less than a minute. He said okay. The matter was resolved.
   Or so I thought. Another man with the orchestra suggested that I perform a courtesy. He told me to clear the idea with one of the violinists. I reacted with surprise. Why ask a musician for permission? The conductor had approved my request.
    Turns out, the violinist was the concertmaster. I conveyed my request to him. He consented. By adhering to a protocol, I had assured that things would go smoothly.
    All orchestras have a concertmaster. This person ranks second, below the conductor. The position requires exceptional talent.
    A concertmaster—usually a violinist—performs difficult solos. He liaisons between the conductor and the musicians. A concertmaster is more visible than his peers. He sits nearest to the conductor. A concertmaster is the last musician that takes to a stage. As he approaches, the other musicians pause from tuning up.
    Several other musicians—they’re called first chairs—also perform enhanced roles.
    Pecking orders are commonplace in organizations. They bestow status and power on individuals near the top.
    In some organizations, the pecking order is not determined by merit. Cynicism must breed among those at the bottom. For example, a friend of mine groused about his bosses. He said, “Scum always rises to the top.”
    Not all organizations fit that mode. Some, like orchestras, promote talented people into top slots. Sometimes cream rises to the top.