Put yourself in the following scenario:

You're one of ten VPs at a small chain of regional clothing stores, where you're in charge of the women's apparel departments. One of your jobs is to review each month's performance at a meeting of all ten department heads and the company president. Like your fellow VPs, you created a PowerPoint presentation showing the results for the previous month and your projections for the upcoming month, and during your presentation, you take the podium and lead the discussion from the front of the room.

On the whole, the meeting is part of a pretty sound overall strategy that allows everyone to know what's going on and what to expect across the board. Typically, the only drawback to an informative and productive session is the president's apparent inability to deal with bad news. He gets irritable and likes to lambaste "underperformers," and as a result, you and your colleagues always enter the meeting with stomachs in knots and leave it with full-blown gastric distress. The president himself thinks he's fostering open and honest discussion, but everyone else in the room knows plain old-fashioned bullying when they see it.

As luck would have it, you now find yourself at the front of the room, looking up at the floor-to-ceiling screen on which are emblazoned, in what looks to you like 500-point font (red, of course), your less than stellar monthly numbers. Sweating profusely, you're attempting to explain some disappointing sales figures when you hear a noisea sort of thudding and rattlingagainst the wall behind you. Startled, you spin around toward the room and are surprised to see that everyone seems to be looking for something on the floor or checking the weather through the windows on one side of the room. Finally you glance toward the wall behind you, where you discover a bent meeting-room chair lying on the floor, and as you look up again, you see that the president is standing, his arms crossed and his face scowling. "The next time you show me numbers like those," he snarls, "I won't miss!"

Believe it or not, this is a true story (although we've changed a few detailsvery fewin the interest of plausibility and dramatic impact). It's told by John McKee, a consultant to professionals and businesspeople who want to move up the management ladder as quicklyand, presumably, with as little violenceas possible. McKee was actually an eye witness to the episode, and although he admits that it's "the clearest example of a boss behaving badly" that he's ever seen, he hastens to add that he won't be the least bit surprised when someone comes up with an even better one.

Consultant Lynn Taylor, who specializes in the development of work and management teams, calls bosses like the one in our scenario Terrible Office Tyrants, or TOTsmanagers who can't control their power when they're placed under stress. Taylor believes that the characterization is apt in light of research showing that bosses like the one we've described actually "return to their misbehaving 'inner toddler' to handle unwieldy pressures." In other words, they revert to the kind of behavior that produced "self-serving results" when they were children. In the adult workplace, explains Taylor, they "occasionally find that their ability to master the world is limited, as it is with most mortal beings. This revelation, on top of their inability to communicate clearly in the moment, makes them furious and frustrated."

Answer the following questions and 1 outside resource to prove your points:

1. How well suited are you - at this point in your life- to the task of managing other people?

2. How might attitudes, values, and perceptions affect the behaviors illustrated in this case? How would stress come into play?