There are two types of management: simple management and complex management.
Simple management doesn't really require management skills at all. HR screens for people with similar educational backgrounds and work histories to make communication easier and ensure you're slightly stronger than your subordinates in every way, so they won't resist you. But a team like that is essentially nothing more than a single cog.
Complex management:
Song Jiang managed a truly complex team. The Liangshan he led wasn't just the cavalry, infantry, or navy—it wasn't a specific functional department. It was a complete, complex ecosystem.
In such an ecosystem, you inevitably face two types of people: those who are stronger than you, and those far beneath you.
Wang Lun, Liangshan's first leader, had one major flaw: he was unwilling to employ people stronger than himself.
When you're just a department manager, refusing to hire people stronger than you might not be a big deal, because your department is merely a screw in the machine. If the company grows, at worst you get demoted—your peers become division presidents or CXOs, while you're still stuck managing a small slice of business. But what if you're running an independent ecosystem? Then, when you yourself become the ceiling, you're finished. If your capability is so limited that you can't use people stronger than you, others won't join you either. Competitors with real talent can simply eliminate your company through competition and drive you out of business. That's what it means to be unable to leverage capable people.
Liangshan's second leader, Chao Gai, couldn't tolerate people of low character.
When Yang Xiong, Shi Xiu, and Shi Qian came to join Liangshan, Chao Gai refused to accept Shi Qian, considering him nothing but a thief who would tarnish the honor of these righteous heroes. But was Shi Qian useful? Extremely. Without Shi Qian, they never would have stolen the雁翎圈金甲, never lured Xu Ning into their camp, and never broken Hu Yanzhuo's linked armor formation. Could Lin Chong, the Marshal Lin, learn that skill on the spot? Even if he could, he wouldn't do it. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't excel at it—because he has dignity, while Shi Qian does not.
There's a place for the skills of the mean and despicable. You can't expect every task to be respectable and aboveboard. There are always things you can't conveniently do yourself—those require people who are convenient to use.
Song Jiang, Liangshan's third leader, excelled at employing both capable people and those of low character.
For things that can be done in the light, he assigns capable people. For things that must stay in the shadows, he assigns those of low character. There are no unsuitable people—only misplaced ones. The question is whether you've put each person to the right use.
Song Jiang's use of Li Kui is like the Bodhisattva using a mount. Knowing how to use capable people, knowing how to use low-character people, knowing how to use mounts—that is the highest level of being supported by others. The art of control doesn't require you to be stronger than those you manage.
In Journey to the West, the Bodhisattvas all appear gentle and compassionate—good people accumulated over countless lifetimes of cultivation. So why are the mounts beside them more and more ferocious and terrifying? The Lion Demon and Elephant Demon can devour entire cities and seem barely rational, prone to losing their temper at the slightest provocation. Why would anyone use such creatures as drivers?
The answer is simple. As early as the Spring and Autumn period, the Jin minister Shu Xiang explained it thoroughly in a letter to Zichan:
"When the law is unknown, its power becomes unfathomable."
The Bodhisattvas wield boundless magical power—do you know it? If you know, do you still fear her? Once you understand she operates by reason, no amount of power will intimidate you.
The reason Bodhisattvas always keep a mindless, bottomless demon as their mount is that the demon serves as their glove—doing things the Bodhisattva herself cannot conveniently do. After the deed is done, the Bodhisattva emerges to subdue the demon. All thunder and rain are the Bodhisattva's grace.
What truly frightens you isn't your opponent's martial prowess, but whether they have any底线—or whether they can be predicted at all.