Sometimes, you read something that makes you want to take a long shower. The 48 Laws of Power, written by Robert Greene, and produced and “designed by” Joost Elffers (and what’s it say when a book’s producer/designer gets equal billing?) takes Machiavelli’s suggestions and the ethical dilemma he posed and eliminates the ethical dilemma.

Machiavelli expressed his dilemma in The Prince: “Any man who tries to be good all the time is bound to come to ruin among the great number who are not good. Hence a prince who wants to keep his authority must learn how not to be good, and use that knowledge, or refrain from using it, as necessity requires.”

Greene and Elffers say, “No one wants less power; everyone wants more.” “You will be able to make people bend to your will without their realizing what you have done. And if they do not realize what you have done, they will neither resent nor resist you.” “In fact, the better you are at dealing with power, the better friend, lover, husband, wife, and person you become.”

They figure everyone wants to increase their power, and always at someone else’s expense. This may be true in their world. In mine, most people want to optimize their power, not maximize it.

Powerlessness is a sorry state of affairs most of us try to avoid — true enough. Maximize your power, though, and you isolate and dehumanize yourself, substituting dry affairs for loving relationships, suspicion and manipulation for trusting friendships, and cold planning for the uninhibited enjoyment of life. Love and friendship require us to give others power over ourselves and vice versa.

On the other hand …

In your career you aren’t surrounded by friends. So while I don’t generally recommend “Keep[ing] others in suspended terror,” (Law 17), recognizing that your rivals do can prevent their achieving power over you. Nor should you “Use selective honesty … to disarm your victim,” (Law 12) for any number of reasons, not the least of which is an insufficient supply of naivete. If you’re naive enough to fall for it, though, your less scrupulous colleagues will manipulate you without much effort.

Some laws are just bad advice. Law 11, which advises you to “Learn to keep people dependent on you,” can change you from a peer to a subordinate in a hurry if you aren’t careful, and can prevent an employer from promoting you out of fear that what only you can do will no longer get done. If you’re irreplaceable, you’re unpromotable.

Other than its ethical repulsiveness, the biggest problem with this book is that some of its suggestions only work when everyone plays. “Get others to do the work for you, but always take the credit,” only works if people don’t confide in each other. Otherwise you can kiss Law #5, “So much depends on reputation — guard it with your life,” goodbye.

But … and it’s a big but … you can’t always avoid Machiavelli’s ethical dilemma, and even the most distasteful of these 48 “Laws” may be required to keep a bigger schmuck than you from taking over.

Sadly, you should own this book. Put it on your home (not office!) bookshelf, right next to Covey’s The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People and see if one of them bursts into flames.

News flash!

In another case of psychologists proving what we’ve long suspected, Justin Kruger and David Dunning, publishing in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, demonstrated the inverse correlation between actual ability and self-assessment.

The better employees think they are, the worse they actually are and vice versa.

Armed with this little factoid, I expect battalions of mediocre programmers to immediately try to improve their ability to write good code by adding humility to their conversation. While the humility, however insincere, will be a welcome change, it will start a tiresome variant of the decrepit “You only thought I knew that you knew that I knew that you knew” gag.

But I digress.

I just read another version of the “CIOs need to know the business” article. I think there’s just one article on the subject, and when a writer is feeling tired he pulls it out, shuffles some paragraphs around, e-mails it in, and goes back to sleep. They’re all the same, really. They make the hoary point that businesses don’t want technology for technology’s sake — technology must serve a business need, and successful CIOs will embrace this concept.

Some insights are more startling than others, I guess. But before we go on, let’s all hold hands and chant together: “Yes, CIOs must know the business, and never propose technology for technology’s sake.” Maybe if we say it loud and proud a few times, everyone in earshot will understand that we’ve fully grasped this concept, and we can all move on to the next one.

The next one, made many times in this space, is that “knowing the business” doesn’t begin and end with abstract notions like strategies and business models. The most important part of knowing the business is knowing the interests, hot-buttons (and cold-buttons), pet programs and pet peeves of every important decision-maker in the company. At least half of an average CIO’s time is spent selling. It’s internal selling … to the board of directors, CEO, senior executives, middle managers … but selling nonetheless.

If you don’t like the idea of having to sell internally, find a different word that describes the process of persuading others to adopt your concepts, in the process adding money to your budget.

If it looks, waddles, and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck. If it looks, smells, and tastes like selling, it’s selling.

To sell effectively, you need to understand your prospects on an empathic level. You need to understand the business, formally, politically, and personally.

Why, oh why do so many seemingly sensible people jump from here to the ridiculous notion that the CIO can delegate the “understanding technology” part of running IS to subordinates? Would anyone reach a similar conclusion down the hall a few doors, and figure the CFO doesn’t need to understand accounting, just “the business”?

Of course not. Of course, they’d probably reach the right conclusion for the wrong reason, explaining that at the end of the day … or at least the fiscal year … the money is the business. Robert McNamara, overconfident of his ability (sound familiar?) due to his business resume, used a similar thought process in pursuit of victory in Vietnam, running a metrics-driven war in which relative body counts (profits) mattered more than the formulation and execution of strategy and tactics.

CFOs need to understand finance and accounting because they run that part of the business and they need to understand the discipline. CIOs need to understand information technology because that’s what they’re responsible for. This isn’t a complex concept, nor should it be controversial.

Go back to the idea that CIOs spend a lot of their time selling. What do really great sales people do? They paint a persuasive vision of how great your world will be once you’ve incorporated what they’re selling into it.

What’s the first step? Understand what you’re selling. In the case of a CIOs, that’s information technology. Without that knowledge, no matter how good you are at step two — understanding your prospects’ world — you’ll have no way of progressing to step three: Putting that knowledge and your product together.