Five minutes with the faculty: Donal Crilly

From surveying ex-Communists in 1990s Berlin to navigating strange logics of business decisions, Donal Crilly, Professor of Strategy and Entrepreneurship at London Business School, has always been drawn to the quirks of strategy. Why do managers back certain ideas over others? How do they frame the future – and why does half the population get confused about when a rescheduled meeting actually takes place? Donal’s research dives into how leaders make sense of the world, even when it doesn’t quite make sense at all

What first sparked your interest in your field?

My first professional position was with a Japanese corporation in Germany – two countries often characterised by a stakeholder governance model, as opposed to the shareholder model more common in the US and UK. Early on, however, I noticed that corporations did not always follow textbook principles, and that stakeholder relationships could be central to strategic decision making. This led me to explore why managers tend to favour certain stakeholders over others when formulating and executing their strategies.

What’s one thing students or colleagues might be surprised to learn about you?

I use four different spellings of my name depending on my audience. Still, whenever I’m asked for my name at Starbucks, I always give “Smith”.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received? And the worst?

One of the most valuable pieces of advice I’ve found comes from the film An Cailín Ciúin (The Quiet Girl): “Many’s the person that missed the opportunity to say nothing and lost much because of it.”

What’s your go-to productivity trick or daily habit?

Every morning, I note down my goals for the day. I’m almost always too ambitious, but I don’t mind if I fall short. Instead, by committing my tasks to paper, I keep them from invading my thoughts at inconvenient times.

What’s the most unusual or memorable place you’ve ever worked or studied?

During my undergraduate years in the 1990s, I spent a year in Berlin working on a project about the “Strategic Positioning of a Reformed Communist Party”. In it, I examined how the PDS – the successor to the GDR’s Communist Party – promoted itself in East Berlin (as a traditional proletarian party) versus West Berlin (as a progressive alternative to the Greens). As part of this, I conducted surveys in Alexanderplatz among Berliners, some of whom had quite colourful pasts – an endeavour I wouldn’t be brave enough to undertake now, nor would I likely get ethical approval for it.

What’s a skill or hobby you have that would surprise your students or colleagues?

I can still remember the ablative absolute from my high-school Latin lessons.

If you could have dinner with any significant figure, who would it be and why?

This depends on (1) who qualifies as significant and (2) my mood. The first person who comes to mind is Elaine C Smith, the Scottish actress and comedian, because she’d likely be a fun dinner companion – and I love her accent. If I were in the mood for a more substantial conversation, I’d choose David Bentley Hart, the American philosopher and polemicist. We might not agree on everything, but I admire his verbal dexterity.

What’s the most unexpected or unusual place your research has taken you?

It may not be entirely unexpected, but my answer is Belfast. I’m currently conducting a field study on two major political initiatives in Northern Ireland, one from the 1970s and another from the 1990s. While this topic might seem arcane to a business school audience, it serves as an extreme context for exploring how future solutions can be framed under highly polarised conditions.

What book, film, quote, or piece of art has had the biggest impact on you and why?

If I had to choose one work of literature or art, it would be Homo Faber by Max Frisch. The novel focuses on the clash between a purely rational, technological outlook and the unavoidable roles of chance, emotion and personal responsibility. Its protagonist – an engineer who relies on calculations and dismisses intuition – believes reason alone can dominate nature and circumstance. Yet his experiences with fate and personal tragedy shake that confidence in rationality. The story seems even more relevant today than in 1957, when it was first published.

What’s the most bizarre or unexpected fact you’ve come across in your research?

When asked, “A meeting originally scheduled for Wednesday is moved forward by two days. On which day will the meeting take place?” about half of English speakers say “Friday”, while the other half – myself included – automatically think “Monday”. This difference reveals how we conceptualise the future, an idea I draw on in my research on how leaders frame it. Yet I’m always baffled by the “Friday” response. A sensible colleague even answered “Saturday”, which throws me off entirely.