While there are abundant opportunities for missteps as you migrate upwards in the management ranks, one of the most nefarious is managing with your ego. We've all seen once stellar companies, from Enron to a raft of financial companies, where decisions were made based on ego with dramatically tragic results. While these tragedies make for great stories in the business papers, far more subtle cases of ego-based management abound and while less dramatic, are equally detrimental.

Consider once-great companies that were convinced their product was so superior and so transcendental that shifts in customer taste or disruptive technologies would never dethrone it. Look at the long litany of companies that implemented the latest management fads, from Lean to TQM, paying lip service to the concepts, expending wads of cash and corporate "attention span," but never actually adopting or embracing any positive changes suggested by project, engaging in it merely to say "Look at us, we're also a Methodology X company!"

It is easy to laugh off the mistakes of others and swear we will never be affected by ego-driven management, but when this problem is closest to home it is the most difficult to detect. Pay attention to the feedback of a group of trusted peers or external advisors. Generally when others appear to be grudgingly going along with an idea where you are the biggest champion, you may be wildly innovative or letting your ego be the guide.

Whether reading the newspaper or striking up a casual conversation with a coworker or acquaintance, there is often mention of a boogieman: a mercurial entity that somehow is adversely affecting that person's life with no recourse on their part. Few use the actual term "boogieman" to describe this fearsome menace, preferring instead to endow more human entities with the powers of the boogieman, from a boss or an ill-regarded politician; to "those evil CEOs;" to unnamed terrorists, racists, sexists; to corporations or "the media" and other miscellaneous vast and conspiratorial entities that appear to be lurking around every corner.

Oddly, even intelligent people will laugh at one man's boogieman in one breath, then confidently assert that their life would be much better if only <insert boogieman here> was out of the picture. As political parties fall in and out of favor, one group giggles at the other side's attribution of all evils in the world to their favored leader, only to soon be whispering about a new leader's world-ending policies.

The boogieman is the perfect scapegoat, and when one attributes their problems to the boogieman, he holds infinite power over us. If my lot in life is due to "the media" or some world leader, I can sit comfortably by, attributing all my problems to the boogieman. When glass ceilings, terrorists and global conspiracies lurk around every corner, one has the perfect excuse to sit on the sidelines of life and mope rather than get in the game, ultimately proving the boogieman victorious.

A modicum of personal accountability and fortitude are all it takes to defeat the boogieman. While you may not agree with every policy from the national government, or the opinions of the latest talking head in the idiot box, realize that these are people and not boogiemen and you will be better for it.

Despite my best attempts at following my own advice and attempting to craft emails carefully and thoughtfully, even I routinely make mistakes. Occasionally that little neuron that sits between the rest of my brain and that itchy trigger finger, poised above the "Send" button lets an item past, only to suddenly shout "STOP!" moments too late. I am notorious for ending an email with "Please see the attached file," only to forget that tiny detail of actually attaching the file.

My email client, Outlook, has a feature I only wish was available to other facets of life, the ability to recall a message. When I realize the error of my ways, the well-hidden recall option promises instant redemption and face-saving. Wiping my brow and letting out a sigh of relief as I click the button, things become a bit less certain when an ominous message appears stating that the recall may be unsuccessful, and your blunder may have escaped into the outside world.

The first time I attempted to perform a recall, a funny thing happened. Apparently if the message has already been delivered to someone's inbox, a subsequent email appears saying something to the effect of "Patrick Gray really screwed up and wants to recall his message. It is likely abjectly foolish, career damaging, insulting, demeaning or a combination of all of the above. Would you like to allow him to atone for his sins or just keep his errant communiqué so that you may witness his total lapse of judgment?" When I attempted to recall a fairly harmless email, people I had not heard from in months that I assumed were dead or had won the lottery instantly responded. Responses varied from the relatively smug, implying that my lapse had been noted and would be used against me at the earliest possible opportunity, to concern that I had disclosed some conspiratorial secret. While the responses varied, my recalled message was universally read by those who received it. Apparently the key to getting your email read is to immediately recall it!

I have always been fascinated by trains. From putting coins on the track to later retrieve a flattened piece of metal, to eagerly waiting for Thanksgiving; since it usually meant my father would be retrieving a dusty box from the attic that contained the train set that was annually set up around the Christmas tree. Subways never did much to satiate my train fixation, since they were generally dirty, lumbering beasts relegated to the dimly lit subterranean warrens and full of world-weary commuters. Rather, it was the thought of longer distance train travel that fascinated me. Trains were the setting for mystery and intrigue, and during a childhood trip on a steam engine with my grandfather, I half-expected to come across James Bond or Sherlock Holmes on my closest-yet exposure to the famed Orient Express.

One of the benefits of my current work in China is that one of the cities I frequently visit, Tianjin, is best accessed by high-speed train from Beijing. I have heard horror stories of the Chinese railroad system, but this train, completed just in time for the Olympics, is a marvel. The "business class" fare is right around $10US, and the train accelerates out of Beijing to 330 km per hour/205mph. Perhaps the only negative about this speedy, posh train is that once you settle into your seat and begin trying to spy Mr. Bond a few rows over, the train is pulling into the station in Tianjin.