Seven leadership secrets of Genghis Khan

Business is a dog-eat-dog world, and everyone wants to be on top. So how do you stand out from the rest and establish yourself as a leader of tomorrow?

It may sound strange, but the life of 11th century Mongol warlord Genghis Khan can provide crucial insights into how you can become a true modern-day influencer. From managing your team to dealing with unexpected adversity, there’s no mentor like the Great Khan. Follow these seven steps and you’ll be on the fast-track to the corner office in no time.

1. Unify your workspace

A united team is an effective team. Promoting cohesiveness is a vital part of every good manager’s job, and there are few better ways to synergise your work environment than by forging the warring tribes of the Mongol steppe into a mighty hammer with which to break the world. Listen to your subordinates, reward those with potential regardless of their background, and crush the dissident Merkits for kidnapping your wife, Börte.

2. Pivot to China

From tech to trade, China is the next big thing. Any thought leader worth their salt knows that to really thrive in today’s workforce, you need to subdue the rebellious Xi Xia, breach the Great Wall and lay waste to the Jin dynasty. Your victory at the Battle of Yehuling and subsequent sack of Zhongdu will gift your army advanced Chinese weaponry like the trebuchet and the siege crossbow, which will prove invaluable in later campaigns and look great at your next board presentation.

3. Initiate a hostile takeover

Conflict is inevitable when dealing with rival agencies, so don’t be afraid to pick a fight if you have to. When the governor of Otrar sends two of your emissaries back bearing the head of the third, you’ll have little choice but to take drastic action and reduce the Khwarezmid Empire to ashes and dust. It may seem harsh, but after you raise pyramids of severed heads before the gates of Samarkand, Rachel from Milton Lyle will think twice before taking your biggest client out for mimosas again.

4. Be frugal

It can be tempting to flaunt your success by blowing that quarterly bonus on a new Benz, but staying humble will make it easier to brush off the haters trying to tear you down and set an example your team will strive to follow. Sleep in the saddle, drink the blood of your mount when water is scarce, and don’t take more than your fair share of the office coffee pods. They’re a privilege, not a right!

5. Cultivate your image

Reputation is everything in business, and sometimes the best way to boost your rep is by letting others speak for you. Rather than tooting your own horn on LinkedIn, driving a vast horde of captured prisoners from the cities you’ve burned before your army will fill enemy forces with dread, throw their battle plans into disarray, and make yours a name whispered in terror from the Huang-Ho to the Indus. More importantly, you’ll be the hot topic at after-work drinks.

6. Kill 40 million people

You’re defined by your work, and nothing wows like a major project. What better way to catch the eye of corporate than by embarking on a campaign of mass slaughter so horrific in scale, people think you’re God’s punishment on a sinful mankind? Nothing says “go-getter” like single-handedly reducing the medieval world’s population by five percent in an orgy of death rivalled only by the Black Plague. Take that, Thompson in sales!

7. Leave a legacy

Even the greats know when it’s time to move on. When you decide to pursue new opportunities, do right by your old firm and try to find a suitable successor. While tradition may demand you leave the empire to your eldest son Jochi, the fractious and hot-tempered Chagatai will never accept his primacy. Choosing Ögedei as your heir will preserve the khanate while keeping your restive brood in line. Your soldiers may ride 1,000 horses over your grave so that it may never be found, but the meeting room they name after you at the farewell party will be thanks enough.

Major world events that have transpired since I submitted my invoice

  • Bowing to internal pressure within the African National Congress, Jacob Zuma resigns as President of South Africa after nine years in power

  • South Korea hosts the Winter Paralympic Games in Pyeongchang

  • Hi Jeremy, hope you're well! Just checking in on this invoice; do you need me to provide any more info?

  • The Communist Party of China grants general secretary Xi Jinping sweeping powers at its National People's Congress, abolishing term limits constraining China's presidency

  • Vladimir Putin is elected for a fourth term in Russia's presidential elections, marred by claims of vote rigging, ballot stuffing and intimidation of voters

  • The 2018 Commonwealth Games are held on Australia's Gold Coast

  • Hey Jeremy, just checking back in on this invoice. Peta from Accounting just redirected me to you, which seems odd given that last email where you told me to speak to her? Sorry to bother you!

  • Raúl Castro steps down as President of Cuba, marking the first time Cuba has had a non-Castro president since 1959

  • Basque separatist group the ETA formally disbands, ending decades of armed conflict

  • The Eurovision Song Contest is held in Lisbon. Israel's Netta wins with "Toy"

  • Malaysia's Pakatan Harapan opposition alliance wins government, ending 61 years of Barisan Nasional rule. Opposition leader Anwar Ibrahim is released from prison and pardoned

  • Hi Adam, nice to e-meet you! I see from Jeremy's farewell email that he's off to explore new opportunities crawfish farming in Louisiana, so I'm just looping you into this thread regarding an invoice I sent through a while back. Totally cool if getting your feet under the desk is a bit crazy right now. Look forward to working with you!

  • The Velvet Revolution sweeps Armenia, triggering the downfall of president Serzh Sargsyan and the ascendancy of anti-establishment figure Nikol Pashinyan

  • Prince Harry and Meghan Markle wed in St George's Chapel at Windsor Castle, watched by an estimated global audience of two billion

  • Ireland overwhelmingly votes to abolish a constitutional ban on abortion

  • US President Donald Trump and North Korean Supreme Leader Kim Jong Un meet in Singapore, marking the first summit between leaders of the two nations. North Korea dismantles its nuclear test site at  Punggye-ri

  • Hi Bethany, Peta's out-of-office redirected me to you while she sorts our her copyright dispute with David Foster Wallace's ghost. I've reattached my invoice here; could you let me know when I can expect payment? Just looking to get my finances up-to-date before tax time! 

  • The Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia renames to the Republic of Northern Macedonia, resolving a 27-year-long naming dispute with Greece and potentially paving the way for the country's entry into the European Union

  • Canada legalises personal marijuana consumption, becoming the second nation to do so after Uruguay

  • Saudi Arabia allows women to drive, following on from its decision to open cinemas for the first time since 1983

  • Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan claims a second term in the first round of presidential polling, assuming broadened constitutional powers introduced by a controversial referendum in 2017

  • Hi Rachel, so sorry to hear about Adam's indictment. I hate to ask, but would you have time to approve this invoice if you're not too busy? It was on Adam's to-do list when they seized his work laptop, but I've looped you in with Xanthia, who's filling in for Evan while Bethany's at her hot yoga retreat in Boise. Hope you're well!

A ranking of William Hill's artistic NRL mascots, in order of how much I hate them

The NRL grand final is here, and weird, invasive betting agency marketing campaigns are here with it. Because I'm a young male who likes rugby league and Googles "Josh Mansour beard pics" at least four times a week, betting firms have been flooding my social media feeds with ads urging me to spice up my Saturday afternoon footy with the possibility of economic ruin.

In the run-up to the 2017 season, bookie giant William Hill wheeled out an ad campaign that was especially eye-catching, though probably not for the reasons they'd like: a commissioned series of drawings of anthropomorphised NRL team mascots from Melbourne-based artist Grange Wallis Made. In the days before a game, William Hill would pair the mascots up in ads urging you to place a bet, and stick them in your Facebook feed if the targeting was right. 

Here are those mascots. They scare the absolute shit out of me.

LOOK AT THEM. Really look at these things. I see these buff torments whenever I close my eyes. They're like monsters out of Greek mythology, if monsters out of Greek mythology had access to steroids and a VIP room at the Ivy. 

Because I won't ever be able to sleep again until I do, I've decided to rank these mascots (which I refer to as "the Sixteen Miseries") in ascending order based on how much they make me want to call an exorcist. I've collected screenshots of them over the last six months, and now I can share my awful findings with the world. Ignore that 'March 12' publication date up the top; that's when I started this extremely bad quest. It has been a long six months.

I should emphasise that I'm not having a go at Grange Wallis Made. He had a brief and he filled it, and making money as an artist in Australia is a tough gig. He's got some ripper art on his site, which you can check out here.

But if William Hill's going to force me to constantly look at fucked nightmare creatures just because I like football, I reserve the right to point out that these abominations should be locked in a vault filled with grave dirt and buried under a burned-out church. Let's do this.

#16: The Warrior

This is the only mascot that doesn't fill me with deep, pelvic floor-weakening fear. It's a guy holding a football! Nothing scary about that. His arms and head are in proportion to his body, which I like, and there's very little about his vibe that shrieks "Eldritch horror". Once he's done playing flashy but inconsistent footy, you could probably go for a beer with The Warrior.

Wallis Made has also done his homework and made sure the traditional tā moko markings on The Warrior's face and arms, topknot, pūkana facial expression and greenstone necklace are culturally appropriate, which is nice, right? It would've been easy to copy the "tribal" tatt patterns you see down Bondi Beach on a sunny day, but putting in a bit of effort not to be a racist jerk is a thing that not-garbage people do. If it had been left to the NRL, The Warrior would've been Paul Vautin in blackface.  Enjoy this moment, because things only get worse from here. 

#15: The Raider

I have mixed feelings about The Raider. I get the impression The Raider acts really tough and talks a lot of awful shit around his peers, but is secretly a bit of a goof who gets slightly uncomfortable when everyone else gets rowdy. I appreciate the effort he puts into his braided green moustache, and I feel like he would be really hurt if you made fun of it. The Raider is a wayward kid who's hanging out with the wrong crowd, and hopefully he realises he's on the wrong path and works out what's really important in life before too long. None of that excuses his behaviour, but I'm rooting for him.

#14: The Titan

At first glance there's nothing that fearsome about The Titan. He looks like Jeff Goldblum's character in the new Thor movie, which is dope as hell, and his cape and golden bracelet things are off the chain. His facial expression is meant to be "I am a great and angry god," but given what's going on with the rest of his outfit it reads more like "I am on some good drugs".

That said, there is one very good reason to be afraid of The Titan, and that reason is his awful dick. I put it to you that the bulbous white orb The Titan is clutching at crotch height is not a football, but rather his terrifyingly smooth, misshapen dick. I know this in my bones with a certainty that chills me.

#13: The Dragon

See, now we're getting into some real shit. We can all agree that, despite the weird fiery halo, The Dragon is obviously Satan come upon us. When you trade your soul for pinpoint kicking accuracy, as Cooper Cronk did, The Dragon is who you have to play football against in Hell for all eternity. He will fly over you with his big disgusting wings whenever you try to tackle him, which is technically not against the rules, and you can't tackle him anyway because his neck spikes will impale your fucking arms like toothpicks in rockmelon.

#12: The Knight

The Knight definitely wants to kill you, but that's not why he's scary. The Knight is scary because you assume he's all-human, but that assumption falls apart when you think about it for, like, two seconds. We have zero evidence so far that the William Hill creatures obey any natural laws, and I feel like the helmet is a double-bluff designed to put you at ease before something really bad happens.

On closer inspection, the 'helmet' appears to be perfectly moulded to The Knight's skull, and continues down his neck and beneath his jersey. I put it to you that The Knight's helmet is actually just a really jacked-up metal face, which at least gives him a motive for being so angry. Lastly, I don't know what the weird raw patch on his forearm is meant to be, but I do not trust it at all.

#11: The Cowboy

The Cowboy gets a higher ranking than the rest of the human-only mascots because he's the one most likely to be real, and that terrifies me. The Cowboy absolutely lives in far North Queensland, and he absolutely votes One Nation. He is not a charming, folksy cowboy who would save you from a rogue water buffalo, like Mick Dundee. He is the sort of cowboy who would offer you a cup of Bushells tea with Rohypnol in it and hogtie you to a tree for the buzzards to eat, like Mick Taylor. I hate The Cowboy.

#10: The Bulldog

The Bulldog weirds me out in a slightly different way to most of William Hill's other abominations, because The Bulldog has an oddly curvy bod? Look at them hips! Bulldogs do not have hips like that. They're stocky little mailboxes with feet, whereas this guy has a kind of Shakira thing going. This is the first mascot that doesn't have legs so muscly they look like Brutalist architecture. There's a joke in there somewhere about not skipping leg day, but in truth every other William Hill beast should skip leg day every day for forever, lest they get swallowed up by their own mutant gams.

There is also a huge vein popping out of The Bulldog's bicep, which means my dude is absolutely on the 'roids and probably has self-image issues. Get off that stuff, Bulldog! I know your face looks like a soggy tennis ball that's been stuck in a rain gutter for fifteen years, but drugs are not the answer. You gotta love you for you.

#9: The Storm

I'm guessing The Storm was the most difficult mascot to conceptualise, but I'm pretty disappointed the artist didn't go for a big black cloud with a frowny face on it. This guy is just a wizard with a skin disease that makes him look like a ripped blueberry.

Still plenty of reasons to hate him, though! He obviously has god powers, and is in the final stages of an incantation that will burn you down to a subatomic level. He's also levitating, which makes me think he maybe fell into our plane from the Dragon Ball Z universe and is in the middle of one of those power-up phases that took up twenty minutes of each episode.

Come to think of it, that glowing golden egg in his right hand: actual Dragon Ball? It's sure as hell not a football meant for human hands. Maybe rugby league games in The Storm's reality end when the egg-ball hatches and Shenron devours the world. One for the CSIRO to puzzle out.

#8: The Panther

The Panther isn't the biggest or the most powerful Nasty Football Boy, but he is absolutely the most angry. Look at that scowly cat face. The Panther is every cat that has ever been mad at you shoved into one flesh-prison and sprayed with a hose. His fur is glossy and well kept, and his fancy golden boots are very fresh, which he gets points for, but you would not notice those things when you have to hide in a pool forever to stop The Panther from mauling you.

#7: The Tiger

The Tiger.jpg

The Tiger gets a higher ranking than The Panther because of how frighteningly jacked it is. If you don't look properly, the orange part of The Tiger's uniform just looks like fur poking out of a needlessly low-cut jersey, and that feels like a personal slight. The Tiger also has the most well-defined tongue of any of these awful creatures, and that cannot bode well given what we've been through so far.

#6: The Sea Eagle

The Sea Eagle.png

I hate the Sea Eagle because he's obviously the preppy frat boy of the bunch. The Sea Eagle is the one most likely to pop his collar, or always have a possessive arm around his girlfriend at parties, or take a gym selfie that has a really obvious outline of his dick in it. The Sea Eagle will absolutely peck out your eyes, but then he'll probably make it even worse by saying something really homophobic about people with no eyes. The Sea Eagle votes Liberal, and probably has The Red Pill saved on a hard drive.

#5: The Rooster

Oh boy, ah geez, oh MAN. The Rooster. Okay. We're really getting into some rats-in-the-walls territory now.

The scariest part of The Rooster is none of the obvious things, like the huge red cheek-scrotums or the corn-chip hands. The Rooster's scariest quality is the eyes. Really stare into those dark-matter peepers. To use descriptors like "cold" or "dead" for The Rooster's eyes is to tacitly grant them a place in this Earthly realm that they do not deserve. The Abyss spat those little hell-nuggets out because they made The Abyss jittery. The Rooster's eyes are God's grave.

Also, turns out your typical rooster crest blown up to a human scale looks like a set of flesh bagpipes, so have fun knowing that for the rest of your life.

#4: The Shark

Firstly, why does a sharkman need little elbow-knives and claws on his awful webbed hands? He's mostly shark already, he doesn't need any more encouragement. Stop it.

The Shark looks scarily like Alan Jones, which is way too fitting to be an accident. He has an extremely wrinkly mouth, and looks like he's been photographed in the act of yelling at a brown person on a train station platform. The Shark is possibly the chunkiest of all the William Hill beasts, which makes me think he must be quite short and is really belligerent to compensate.

My main beef with The Shark, though, is that his tail is poking out the back of his little football shorts. How does he put those little shorts on with such a big tail? The Shark does not know. No one knows.

#3: The Bronco

I hate The Bronco with my whole body. I hate it extra hard because people have already spent thousands of years workshopping what human-horse hybrids are supposed to look like, and it's never been this bad. Centaurs have their problems, but they don't have quad muscles that are so big they form actual squares. I resent how the artist almost abandoned the hoofs-for-hands idea but not entirely, and compensated for that indecision by making The Broncos' hands needlessly shiny, like they've been bronzed.

Also, this feels like nitpicking at this point, but The Bronco has better hair than I do despite how obviously filthy he is over every single inch of the rest of his body. The Bronco clearly spends so much time snorting and huffing gunk all over himself with his giant gross horse nose, and somehow both his head- and butt-hair still stays shiny and silky smooth. I think about that and it makes me really upset.

#2: The Eel

Oh no. Oh NO.

The Eel actually makes me physically nauseous to look at, a bit. So much is deeply, karmically wrong here. The wrinkles over every available surface; the glassy, White Walker-esque eyes; the little wisps of what can only be hair around the chin and nostrils. 

The worst part of The Eel, though, is what goes unseen. It upsets me deeply to inform you that The Eel has to have the weirdest, grossest dick of all these monsters. Going off the rest of his body, The Eel's dick is sickly yellow with blue mottled stripes, has been pickled in seawater for twenty years, and has a fin on it. I'm so sorry your grand final has been ruined by knowledge of The Eel's dick-fin. I really am.

#1: The Rabbit

I loathe The Rabbit. I hate everything about it. I hate how, if you cover up The Rabbit's head, it could be just a very buff man with extremely hairy arms. I hate its on-brand headband and mouthguard. I hate how, if The Rabbit could make a noise, the only noise it could make would be "REEEE! REEEEEEEEEE!". Most of all I hate the tiny, exquisitely detailed bottom row of teeth in its open, scowling mouth.

I hate The Rabbit. I hate him so much.

Thank you for coming with me on this journey through the sixteen circles of my own private hell. I am very sorry.

Selective silence: Cory Bernardi, the "threat" of Islam and the Royal Commission

Senator Cory Bernardi’s announcement that he’s finally quitting the Liberal Party and starting his own conservative political movement has dominated news headlines and social media this week. The far-right Senator’s new Australian Conservatives party will attempt to capitalise on the rise in populist anti-immigration sentiment epitomised by Brexit, the election of Donald Trump and the domestic resurgence of One Nation.

Besides combating the prospect of same-sex marriage and campaigning to water down the Racial Discrimination Act, it’s likely the Australian Conservatives will have plenty to say on another of Bernardi’s favourite topics: Islam, or the supposed threat it poses to Australian society.

Bernardi has asserted that Islam is a “totalitarian, political and religious ideology”, called for the burqa to be banned as a “shroud of oppression”, and waged a long crusade against the halal certification of food. On Friday he’ll appear as a ‘special guest’ at a function thrown by the anti-Islamic Q Society, which has been at the forefront of efforts to stop the construction of a mosque in the Victorian town of Bendigo. In 2015 Bernardi alleged that terrorists could be among Australia’s planned intake of 12,000 Syrian refugees, despite all evidence suggesting such a scenario is extremely unlikely.

But even as Bernardi commanded the spotlight, far more concerning and devastating news has been coming out of Sydney, where the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse was beginning its 50th public hearing.

In her opening statement to the hearing on Monday, counsel assisting the commission Gail Furness, SC, revealed some of the Commission’s horrifying findings on the scope and severity of child sexual abuse within religious institutions, especially the Catholic Church. According to the Commission, 4,444 people alleged instances of child sex abuse against members of 93 Catholic Church authorities between 1980 and 2015.

Even more astonishing than the number of victims is the number of abusers, particularly in Catholic orders. Around 20% of the membership of two Catholic orders that run schools, the Christian Brothers and the Marist Brothers, were accused of crimes against children. In one order, the St John of God Brothers, more than 40% of religious brothers were alleged to have abused kids.

But one figure especially stands out, arguably the most horrific of all. 7% of all Australian Catholic priests since 1950 have been accused of child sexual abuse. That’s about one in every 14 priests.

It’s worth looking at how those numbers compare to Bernardi’s pet obsession, Islam and domestic terrorism. 476,291 Australians self-identified as Muslim at the 2011 Census. The exact number of Australian Muslims charged with terror offences isn’t publicly available for security reasons, but a widely-cited Monash University study from 2011 puts the number at between 20 and 33. That means around 0.0069% of Muslims in Australia have been charged with terror-related offences, at least as of 2011. One in every 14,000 or so Muslims, in other words.

Putting those two sets of numbers side by side raises some interesting questions about who we’re told poses a threat to Australian society, and who actually does. If 7% of Australian Muslims were alleged terror suspects, that would mean a massive 33,340 would-be Islamist terrorists were currently residing in Australia. To put that in perspective, imagine if everyone in the NSW town of Orange woke up one day and decided that, rather than throw an Elvis festival this year, they’ll all join ISIS instead. Bernardi would certainly have his work cut out for him.

Despite what Bernardi, Pauline Hanson and many others say, though, you could fit all the Australian Muslims charged with terror offences pretty comfortably in the back half of a tram. So which is the greater threat? One in every 14,000 Muslims? Or one in every 14 priests? And which will Bernardi’s new Australian Majority focus most of its attention on?

Given the timing, it will be extremely interesting to see if newly-independent Senator Bernardi says a word about the Royal Commission’s findings, or if he continues to talk up a comparatively miniscule threat for the sake of headlines and political capital. Given the Vatican has refused to hand over documents involving Australian priests accused of abuse to the Royal Commission, it will also be instructive to see if Bernardi feels compelled to demand greater accountability from the Church of which he is a devout member.

For the rest of us, it might be worth wondering why we obsess over threats that we rarely see and almost never directly encounter, rather than the ones right in front of us. If we’d spent the last sixty years paying even a fraction of the attention to child abusers in the Catholic Church that we devote to Islamist terrorism today, that 7% wouldn’t have been able to wreak the horrendous damage that they did.