“I beg your pardon… I wasn’t…”

Haddon spoke with exaggerated patience. “I am relying on you, Arlo, to see to it that Forrest Freeman’s video production does not result in a distorted, typically sensationalized program in which Horizon House’s genuine accomplishments are trivialized or oversimplified to suit the television mentality. As a trained photographer yourself, you are in a position to work closely with them in the day-by-day editing-”

“But I don’t know anything about making a documentary. I don’t know anything about video. It’s a completely different field, as different as… as-”

“Nevertheless, I’m depending on you. We’re all depending on you, Arlo.”

“But-but even if I did know something about it, how in the world could I tell them what to do? I don’t have any authority-”

“Authority?” Haddon snatched the word out of the air as a frog might snatch a bug. “By which you mean the power to elicit compliance?”

“Well…”

“Well, now, Arlo,” Haddon said, and the pedantic, glossily genial overtones were unmistakable. A set piece was on the way. “It seems to me,” he said, crossing his legs more comfortably, “that there are essentially four types of authority…” Arlo slumped bleakly in his chair.

“… four types of authority. First there is the authority of com -pe-tence, in which one’s power to influence others derives from one’s knowledge and abilities. Second, there is the authority of con -fi-dence, achieved only when one has won the trust and reliance of one’s associates. Third, there is the authority of char -ac-ter, built on the strength of one’s personal integrity. And fourth-” Haddon’s lip curled, his voice dropped dismissively. “-there is the authority of po- si -tion, which has nothing to do with achievement or expertise, but derives solely from the perquisites of title and office, and evokes-at best-mere com- pli -ance. Ahem.”