Monkeys disgust me, and they have Ebola.
(Maybe they don’t have Ebola. But I’m willing to continue believing that they do.)
However, we all have to make a decision to feed or shoot the monkeys in our lives.
The second most requested article from the Harvard Business Review is one entitled “Management Time: Who’s Got the Monkey?“, according to an article written by Bill Giovannetti in the February 2008 Focus on the Family magazine. Upon reading the management article, my initial reaction was that of knowing why it is I have no desire to work in an office setting or be in a management position.
That, of course, is not the real message to be gleaned.
Giovannetti’s article, “Love Management”, took a different approach to the concept of monkeys. In referencing the HBR article, he said that
“…in every business, participants carry monkeys on their backs. The key to organizational health is proper management of monkeys.”
He went on to relate the concept to relationships and love.
“Monkeys represent our responsibilities — such as those involved in love.”
If you read the HBR article, the story that is used to show the reader the concept of a manager with subordinates who have monkeys on their backs gives examples of ways these subordinates finagle a method of getting the monkey off their own backs and onto the manager. The manager becomes over-burdened while the subordinates have it easy: they put the responsibility for their problem onto the manager and don’t have to worry about it any more.
Giovannetti’s point in his article is that too often we do something similar with love.
Who is responsible for nurturing and sustaining love? Our culture routinely places this burden on the person we are trying to love.
The opening story of Giovannetti’s article was a good example. It told of a woman whose husband wanted a divorce because she had put on weight. In that situation, the husband had shifted his responsibility for loving her onto her back, essentially saying “I can’t love you because you are fat.” As long as the wife remained physically acceptable to the husband, he would love her.
Giovannetti postulates that there are two kinds of love.
The first — prevalent in today’s culture — is attraction love. You must attract me, or else I’ll stop loving you. The monkey is on your back.
The second kind is virtue love, which fully embraces the love monkey and its responsibilities. I love you because I possess the inner virtue and integrity to do so, no matter what you do or don’t do.
Admittedly, the use of the phrase “love monkey” made me snicker.
I really need to grow up.
But, all that aside, the point he is making (particularly if you read the original HBR article and get a handle on the original concept) is a good one. I think I’ve hinted at it before (in some of my other posts) the idea that, by choice we love people. We don’t always feel love for others, romantic or otherwise. Sometimes we have to choose to show the love (do the action) and the feeling will follow.
Though we are talking about monkeys here (which distresses me a lot, since I really do hate monkeys), I often thought of this latter concept in terms of the cart/horse analogy. The action (and doing) of love is the horse, and it must come in front of the cart, which is the feeling of love. Sure, when things are going well the cart might be able to coast. But a cart only coasts downhill, and that certainly isn’t where you want your end result to be. With the horse doing the leading and all the work, the cart can go up and down and on flat ground. Don’t put the cart in front of the horse; it will never work.
I prefer horses to monkeys.

I found this article very interesting and, in a way, illuminating. From the standpoint of the subordinate/manager relationship, and the subordinate working to finagle responsibility onto the manager, my experience has actually been the opposite. Of course, that may just be an indication of the disfunctional state of education.
However, I think, as an example of love and personal relationships, he is spot-on. It becomes too easy, over time, to become complacent in a relationship, whether marriage or otherwise, and beginto take things for granted. It requires constant attention to not allow this to become true.
I like your cart/horse analogy because it does speak to the realities of a relationship. I agree that the coasting part can be deceptive, in that when things are going well and life seems easy the tendency is to stop putting effort into the relationship. It is at those times when there needs to be a redoubling of the efforts, a working harder at the action of love.
For me, I find the doing (horse) to be what makes it all worthwhile. I don't mean to imply that I will always have the horse before the cart (God knows just how many failings I have), but I try.
In our current society, and admittedly in my own life!, I see a great many 'give in order to get' acts of love.
We forgive, but in so doing, we expect reconciliation. We give financially, but we anticipate further blessings as a result of our generosity. We give a break to a business associate, entirely aware that someday we may need to call on him or her for a similar favor…
In light of the monkey analogy, I suppose what I am trying to say is this: I scratch the monkey on your back, you scratch mine…
True 'virtue' love gives without expecting a thing in return. When acting out of virtue love, one forgives for the sheer sake of forgiving, instead of hoping for reconciliation. One gives just to give, with nothing expected in return…
To be the horse without expecting a ride in the cart, now that's truly virtue love.
I don't believe in unconditional love. I'm sorry. I did, when I was younger, because the Bible said so and I wanted to believe not only that such a thing could exist but that it did exist.
But experience taught me that there are always conditions. Unless one is suicidal. Don't go through life with a "kick me" sign on your back, eager to be led to your own crucifixion. There are always limits to how much we can and should tolerate from each other. Those limits are conditions. The terms of the contract.
I'm sorry you say that. It makes me sad for you.
Contracts do, indeed, have terms. They have limits.
The love I want, the love I base my model on, is not a contract. The contract-based model collapses. It rests on a bad foundation. It cannot live past a certain point. Its very conditions make it temporary.
That is no way for love to be.
As for the HBR article being the "second most requested article", please see here for the real story.