Нравится мне это понятие – смышленость. Смышленый человек не только умен, но сообразителен в жизни, может быстро сориентироваться в ситуации и принять правильное решение. Смышленость – стратегическое умение в обыденной жизни. Такой человек не пропадет в любых обстоятельствах.
Заметный и незаметный лидер
Слишком заметный лидер не очень эффективен. Совсем незаметный лидер малоэффективен. Лучший лидер способен быть и заметным, и незаметным.
A Framework for Reflecting on Individual Diplomatic Representation
What makes an effective diplomatic representative? We often praise diplomats as “good” or “effective,” but effective in what sense? I have been developing a simple framework for reflecting on two dimensions of individual diplomatic representation: presentability and representability. The framework is intended to help analyse diplomats more systematically and to support diplomatic education, training and professional development.
Here is an early version of such a framework that can be tested in a classroom or training setting.
A FRAMEWORK FOR REFLECTING ON INDIVIDUAL DIPLOMATIC REPRESENTATION
Presentability is a diplomat’s capacity for effective social performance. It concerns how diplomats present themselves through their appearance, behaviour and interaction. It shapes first impressions, accessibility and influence.
Choose a diplomat (historical or contemporary) and reflect on the following dimensions:
□ 1 Poor
Creates negative impressions; appearance or behaviour undermines diplomatic effectiveness.
□ 2 Fair
Generally appropriate but often awkward, inconsistent or ineffective.
□ 3 Good
Professional, culturally appropriate and able to establish constructive relationships.
□ 4 Very Good
Projects confidence, adapts well across cultures and communicates persuasively.
□ 5 Outstanding
Creates exceptional trust, respect and positive engagement across diverse audiences.
Representabilityis a diplomat’s recognized capacity to represent the country credibly and effectively. It combines competence, credibility, judgement and the authority associated with the representative role.
Choose a diplomat (historical or contemporary) and reflect on the following dimensions:
□ 1 Poor
Lacks competence, credibility or authority.
□ 2 Fair
Has basic competence but limited influence or credibility.
□ 3 Good
Competent and generally trusted to represent national interests.
□ 4 Very Good
Exercises sound judgement and significant diplomatic influence.
□ 5 Outstanding
Represents the country with exceptional authority, credibility and strategic effectiveness.
Presentability concerns the social dimension of diplomacy — how diplomats appear, behave and interact with others. Representability concerns the strategic dimension of diplomacy — how diplomats think, judge and advance their country’s interests. Although the two are closely intertwined in practice, representability ultimately underpins durable diplomatic effectiveness, while presentability shapes access, trust and influence.
The practical refinement of presentability is smoothness — the capacity to conduct social interaction with ease, tact and influence. The practical refinement of representability is smartness — the capacity to exercise strategic judgement with competence, credibility and authority.
How could this framework be improved? Would you find it useful in diplomatic academies, foreign ministries or executive education?
For further reading: Faizullaev, Alisher. (2026). “Presentability and Representability: Rethinking Individual Diplomatic Representation”, The Hague Journal of Diplomacy (advance publication). DOI: https://doi.org/10.1163/1871191X-bja10232
#diplomacy #diplomat #presentability #representability #smoothness #smartness #representation
At the European Negotiation Conference, Paris
Just returned from the European Negotiation Conference in Paris. It was encouraging to see how negotiation is continuing to grow as a distinctive field of both scholarship and professional practice. The conference brought together researchers, practitioners, consultants, coaches, diplomats, business professionals, and AI experts from many countries — a reflection of the field’s increasing diversity and vitality.
I was especially struck by the growing number of executive education and practice-oriented workshops. As organizations face more complex and uncertain environments, the demand for advanced negotiation capabilities is clearly increasing.
Many discussions also touched on the fragility of the current world order and on how negotiation, despite all its limitations, can help move us toward greater mutual understanding and peace. Artificial intelligence was another major theme throughout the conference.
I was pleased to present my paper, “Overt and Embedded Bargaining Systems: Bargaining Infrastructure and the Organization of Reciprocal Adjustment,” and to exchange ideas with colleagues from around the world.
The conference left me optimistic. Negotiation studies are becoming an increasingly vibrant interdisciplinary community, and I look forward to seeing where the field goes next.
hashtag#Negotiation hashtag#Leadership hashtag#Diplomacy hashtag#ConflictResolution hashtag#AI hashtag#Research hashtag#ExecutiveEducation hashtag#WorldOrder
Why Infrastructure Matters
Watching major football tournaments has made me think about something that extends far beyond sport. At the highest level, success is rarely produced by individual talent alone. It depends on infrastructure.
A world-class football team requires youth academies, experienced coaches, strong domestic leagues, sports science, financial resources, international exposure, and regular competition against elite opponents. The same is true in academia.
World-class research depends on much more than brilliant scholars. It requires libraries, seminars, conferences, research funding, doctoral training, international networks, rigorous criticism, access to journals, and institutions that make excellence routine rather than exceptional.
Of course, exceptional individuals sometimes emerge despite weak infrastructures. History offers many examples. Yet sustained excellence—whether in sport, science, or the arts—is rarely achieved in this way.
There is, however, an important nuance. Infrastructure does not have to be domestic. Many outstanding footballers come from countries with relatively weak football systems but reach their full potential after entering the academies and clubs of Europe’s leading leagues. The same is true in academia. Talented researchers may begin their careers in modest universities yet flourish after joining stronger international research environments. What matters is not only where talent originates, but whether there are pathways connecting talent to infrastructures capable of developing and recognizing it.
Infrastructure also performs another, less discussed function. It does not merely produce excellence; it regulates access to excellence. Strong infrastructures cultivate talent, but they also influence who is admitted, trusted, recognized, funded, and given opportunities to grow.
Perhaps this offers another perspective on the long-standing structure–agency debate. Agency helps explain exceptional individuals. Infrastructure helps explain why exceptional individuals emerge repeatedly in some environments and only rarely in others.
Presentability and Representability: Rethinking Individual Diplomatic Representation
I’m pleased to share that my article “Presentability and Representability: Rethinking Individual Diplomatic Representation” has been published online in the Hague Journal of Diplomacy. I’m grateful to colleagues, editors, and reviewers whose thoughtful feedback helped improve the paper. The full article is available here:
Spirit of UWED Award
I am deeply grateful to my university, the University of World Economy and Diplomacy, and personally to Rector – Senator Sodyq Solikhovich Safoev for the Spirit of UWED Award.
It is a great honor to teach at UWED, one of the leading universities in Central Asia, and to work with such talented students and colleagues.
As a Power with a Power: The Politics of Interpersonal Relations
More than a decade ago, I published a book in Russian titled As a Power with a Power: The Politics of Interpersonal Relations.
It was not a book about grand strategy or formal authority. It was about where power most persistently lives – in everyday interactions: in offices and families, in negotiations and silences,
in status cues, symbols, routines, and unspoken rules.
The book grew out of lived experience and an attempt to understand power more honestly – its mechanics, its seductions, its limits, and its ordinary, often invisible forms.
Today, I find myself thinking about power in a slightly different register – in relation to thought.
Confucius and Machiavelli both sought political office. Both wanted to operate inside power. Yet their lasting influence came not from the positions they held, but from the ideas they were compelled to articulate when power remained out of reach.
Power attracts, even reflective minds. It offers immediacy, visibility, and a sense of significance here and now.
And yet: power makes a person significant in life, thought – even after.
#power #thought
Character Attack and Reputation Management in Diplomacy
A new conversation on my Diplomatic Nexus channel.
Together with Professor Eric Shiraev, we examine character attack as a strategic tool in diplomacy and the problem of reputation management under political pressure.
Character attack is not simply a personal insult or rhetorical excess. It is a method of influence that can delegitimize actors, reshape negotiations, and alter diplomatic outcomes. Despite its growing relevance, this phenomenon remains surprisingly underexplored in mainstream diplomatic studies.
Professor Eric Shiraev (George Mason University) is a leading scholar on character assassination and reputation dynamics, and the author of more than thirty books on political psychology, leadership, and influence.
The conversation is relevant for diplomats, analysts, and anyone interested in how power operates beyond formal negotiations.
Subscribe and like.
The Train to Kyoto
It happened in Japan, at one of Tokyo’s train stations. My friend and I were waiting for the train to Kyoto. A woman’s voice announced arrivals and departures, but I understood nothing in Japanese. I noticed my friend kept glancing at his watch. I asked:
“Is something wrong?”
“No.”
But it seemed to me he was hiding something.
“Is the train late?” I continued asking.
“Oh, if only!” he answered, looking at his watch again.
“What do you mean?” I was surprised. “You don’t want it to be late, do you?”
“No, quite the opposite.”
I didn’t understand anything.
“You see, if the train is late, the company has to pay us compensation. It would be nice to earn a little extra.”
“And that’s why you keep looking at your watch?”
“Yes, judging by the announcement, there’s a chance the train might be delayed. So I got my hopes up a little… But to tell the truth, I’ve never had a case in my life where a train was late.”
“Let me also pray mentally for it to be late,” I said and closed my eyes.
While we stood on the platform praying, the train safely (and, to our regret, on time) arrived. My friend looked at me guiltily and shrugged. With a deep sigh, we boarded the train and departed for Kyoto. But then a secret hope arose in me.
Maybe we’d be delayed en route and arrive late to the ancient capital of Japan? Alas, this hope didn’t come true either. Moreover, our return train also arrived in Tokyo on schedule.
Well, what can you do? There are times when even prayers don’t help.
First published on my Substack: https://alisherfaizullaev.substack.com/p/the-train-to-kyoto
#Train #Japan #Delay #Pray
The Hunger Volunteer
The Hunger Volunteer
In the early nineties, I spent two weeks at an acquaintance’s home in New York. She was a devout and fairly well-off woman of pre-retirement age who worked as a management consultant at a large company. She told me that every Sunday she and her friends did charity work and invited me to join them. I gladly agreed.
Getting up early and drinking, as was customary in that house, a glass of orange juice instead of breakfast, we left the house at seven. We arrived at some building in the New York suburbs. Around eight in the morning, about twelve of us volunteers had gathered. Judging by their appearance and manners, these were people of means. Voluntary assistance to those in need is considered a noble cause and is fairly widespread among Americans with middle and higher incomes.
Our task was to feed the homeless, unemployed, and all those in need with a free Sunday lunch. We started by cleaning a room that looked like a gym. Then tables and chairs, kitchen and dining supplies, and food were brought in. We worked hard, without breaks, without unnecessary conversation. Everyone was united by a sense of high mission. My only problem was that I was hungry.
By around noon, the preparations were complete. People for whom the food was intended began lining up outside the building. Many of them were dressed in rags and looked, to put it mildly, not great. Apparently, these people came here every Sunday.
Finally, at twelve-thirty we let the first group into the room. Our clients sat at the tables, and we brought them food, drinks, and dessert on trays. The quality of the food seemed decent – at least I, experiencing an ever-growing sense of hunger, wouldn’t have refused to try what I was handing out. But alas, we had no time for that: people kept coming and coming, and we could barely keep up serving them.
It was exactly two o’clock when I finally decided to approach one guy – a Chinese or Korean American I’d already exchanged a few words with:
“Let’s have lunch ourselves – I’m really hungry!”
I still remember the harsh and contemptuous look I received for my words.
“We didn’t come here to eat, but to feed those in need!” I heard.
My companion suddenly reminded me of a red commissar from the time of the great famine. Oh, if only he knew that I needed lunch then no less than those we were feeding!
What could I do – charity is charity. And I, despite my growing hunger and fatigue, continued my heroic efforts at delivering food.
“Hey, over here! Give me another portion of steak, and more potatoes!” someone in a torn sweater called out to me.
I’d barely brought the order when I heard another voice:
“Coffee! Quickly!” A bearded man in a worn cap was asking for a refill before he’d even finished his coffee in a paper cup.
I desperately wanted coffee myself, but suppressing my feelings, I ran to fulfill the client’s wish.
It was three o’clock when I couldn’t take it anymore: picking up a tray, I resolutely approached the serving area and asked for food for myself.
“We don’t have anything left,” came the response.
The clients dispersed, and we began cleaning the room, taking out trash, and sending back the tables, chairs, and other things we’d brought. By five in the evening, the work was done. Looking at my fellow volunteers, I noticed they were satisfied, joking, laughing. By tradition, they were planning to go to a restaurant and invited me to join. I doubted I could afford it, but just in case, I asked which restaurant. Hearing the name, I realized they meant an expensive New York restaurant where dinner would have cost me at least a hundred dollars.
“Oh, what a shame – I have a meeting scheduled somewhere else, otherwise I’ve been wanting to go there for a long time,” I assured my new friends.
They, for their part, expressed regret and hope to see me the following Sunday.
Having reached downtown New York, we said warm goodbyes: they headed toward the restaurant, and I headed to the nearest kiosk to buy a dollar bag of potato chips for dinner.
At the time, I felt I was the unluckiest person in this story. The homeless got a quality free lunch. The wealthy volunteers got their satisfaction from socially useful activity, a sense of duty fulfilled, and a joint dinner at an exclusive restaurant. Meanwhile, I learned a curious aspect of American life, but I was damn tired from a full day of uninteresting labor and tormented by hunger.
Now, with the passage of time, I believe I was very lucky. I understand that I really was helping those in need. Of course, it would have been better if I could have shown greater tolerance and less irritability, perceiving the situation as a chance for self-development, training in inner discipline, and spiritual growth. But life never stops providing chances for self-improvement. As Nietzsche said, what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. At least, it can…
First published on my Substack: https://alisherfaizullaev.substack.com/p/the-hunger-volunteer
#Volunteering #NewYork or #NYC #PersonalEssay #Charity
A Story About a Vietnamese Restaurant in Seattle
My last name isn’t easy for foreigners. I’m used to people stumbling over it, distorting it, or giving up entirely. But once, I encountered the opposite.
It happened in Seattle. A friend took me to a Vietnamese restaurant where we were greeted by an elderly woman – the owner. My friend knew her and introduced me, mentioning my last name and where I was from. She bowed politely and led us to our table.
Two or three weeks later, we found ourselves in the same neighborhood and stopped by again. She greeted us at the door, smiling like we were old acquaintances.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Ness, and good afternoon, Mr. Faizullaev.” She pronounced my unfamiliar last name clearly – all four challenging syllables.
I was astonished.
“How did she remember my name and pronounce it so easily after one brief meeting three weeks ago?” I asked my friend.
“I don’t know how she remembered,” he said, “but without some extraordinary abilities, she never would have made it here from Vietnam and built a successful business.”
He was right. I decided to remember the restaurant’s name and hers. I repeated them several times, aloud and silently.
Five minutes later, I’d forgotten both.
First published on my Substack: https://alisherfaizullaev.substack.com/p/a-story-about-a-vietnamese-restaurant
#Storytelling #ShortStory #TravelStories #Seattle #Memory
Alisher Faizullaev 