Chapter 2: Organizational Learning

Managing Performance through Training and

Development 6th Edition Saks Test Bank
full chapter at: https://testbankbell.com/product/managing-
performance-through-training-and-development-6th-edition-saks-test-
bank/
TRUE/FALSE

1. Organizational learning refers to the process of creating, sharing, storing, and applying
knowledge in organizations.

ANS: F
Definition of organizational learning

PTS: 1 REF: 37

2. Peter Sengalis is known as the originator of the concept of learning organizations.

ANS: F
Peter Senge

PTS: 1 REF: 37

3. If individuals in an organization learn, then the organization becomes a learning organization.

ANS: F
Individual learning is necessary but not sufficient

PTS: 1 REF: 37

4. In order to survive and develop, organizations must learn how to manage their capacity to
learn and change.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 37

5. VanCity’s employees have a wide array of programs available in supporting their

development. In fact, VanCity will reimburse up to 100 percent of expenses should an
employee decide to take a course that is not related to his/her current role.

ANS: F
50 percent only

PTS: 1 REF: 36

6. Learning organizations improve their effectiveness and attain their goals by acquiring,
sharing, creating, and storing knowledge and information. They are constantly in a state of
learning.

Copyright © 2013 Nelson Education Limited 2-1

ANS: T
continuous learning

PTS: 1 REF: 38

Copyright © 2013 Nelson Education Limited 2-2

 Chapter 2: Organizational Learning

7. Peter Senge characterized learning organizations as having five core principles. Of these five
principles, mental models embody the concept of viewing the organization holistically.

ANS: F
Systems thinking

PTS: 1 REF: 38

8. A learning culture is best described as the norms and values an organization has toward its
stakeholders.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 41

9. According to the Conference Board of Canada, senior management needs to be explicit in

defining the type of knowledge that is important to their organizations.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 40

10. Tacit knowledge could be described as policies and procedures often found in a company’s
intranet site and procedures manuals.

ANS: F
Explicit

PTS: 1 REF: 42

11. Intellectual capital is an organization’s knowledge, experience, relationships, process

discoveries, innovations, market presence, and community influence.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 42

12. Intellectual capital is knowledge that may or may not have value to a company.

ANS: F
Has value

PTS: 1 REF: 42

13. Human capital includes elements of cognitive intelligence and emotional intelligence.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 43

14. Human capital includes the knowledge, skills, and abilities of employees.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 43

Copyright © 2013 Nelson Education Limited 2-3

 Another random document
un-related content on Scribd:
 As those who passed the Bill so well,
And stormed bold Bumble’s hold.
And in the nights of winter,
When from Turnham-Green to Bow,
And from Camberwell to Hackney
The Cits all homeward go;
When round their cosy firesides
The happy households draw,
No longer dreading Bumble,
Nor Vestry-muddled law;

When the evening print is opened,

And electric-lamps are lit,
And, their rates no longer dreading,
The serene breadwinners sit;
When the young and old in circle
Around their parents close;
When the girls make high-art doyleys,
And the boys make classic mots;
When Papa writes to the paper
To Civic ways commend,
And London’s central government
To London’s weal doth tend;
Then, with many a burst of laughter,
Shall the story still be told
How brave Harcourtius passed his Bil.
In the bad days of old!
Truth. April 10, 1884.

The Right Hon. Sir William V. Harcourt, M.P. for Derby, introduced his
Bill for the Reform of the London Municipality, and it was read a first time
on April 8, 1884. The other Members of Parliament here referred to are
Lord Mayor Fowler, Joseph F. B. Firth (Chelsea), C. N. Warton, the Blocker
(“Magnus Blockus”), Alderman A. McArthur, Alderman Sir Robert Carden,
Sir Andrew Lusk, Alderman Cotton, Alderman Owden, Lord Randolph
Churchill, Sir Stafford Northcote, G. Sclater-Booth, and the Right Hon. Sir
Richard Cross.
 T B I .[101]
A Lay sung on the Feast of St. Guy,
about the ides of November, 1875.
Charles Cochrane of the Institute,
By the heathen gods he swore
That that great swell, Lothian Bell,
Should Cocci Walkus be no more.
By all the gods he swore it,
And Marshall[102] named a day,
And circulars were posted forth
East and west, and south and north,
Calling members to the fray.

Charles Cochrane there, whose yellow hair

Waves o’er his manly brow
He built a mighty furnace, the cause of all the Row.
This furnace was more wide and big
Than any other known,
And, Cochrane said, t’would make more pig
As could be clearly shown.
And then he quoted figures, which were an awful bore,
And of the members some did yawn, some shuffled on the floor.
Bell shook his head, and then he said
The figures were all wrong.
The blast put in was much too weak
The facts were all too strong!
And in his pleasant, genial way
He “hoped the Chair would let him say
That Cochrane was a fool!”
Then Cowper great, from Storey’s Gate,
He raised his voice on high
And swore an oath, a mighty oath,
He swore that Bell should die!
Each chieftain hastened to the brawl
In vain did Bramwell “Order” call.
Cried Marshall “What will Europe think?
When Cochrane hurled a pot of Ink
Full in the face of Bell!

Now Williams to the rescue! oh!

What man alive could tell
The laughter that arose all round
When they saw the face of Bell?
But Bell he rushed at Cochrane
And smote him fearful blows;
He gave him one between the eyes,
And two upon the nose!
They rose, they fell, with gasp, and yell
And angry oath and roar;
Whilst Ink and Blood, one horrid flood
Did cover all the floor!
Then, Carbutt, Mighty Hammer, and Bramwell in the Chair
And Siemens of the Telegraph, did wish they were not there.
Whilst all the other members thought
It was a funny way.
To settle scientific points
In that far distant day.
But high above the mighty din, was Hawksley heard to say
“Ho! Gentlemen, Ho! Gentlemen, let’s stop this horrid fray!”
So they sent out for the Serjeants, the Serjeants of Police,
The Constables of Manchester, in the interests of Peace.
They bade them pick those members up,
And wipe the blood away,
Whilst others washed each inky stain
From off the floor that day.

But when they picked the foemen up

No man alive could tell
Which of the two was Cochrane,
Nor which of them was Bell!
But Bell survived the combat, all in the North Contree
And for his gifts and money, they made him an M.P.
Whilst Cochrane for his valour
Got glory and renown,
As much as could be measured
Ere the sun went down.
And in each drawing office, when the argand lamp is lit,
And the draughtsman cuts his pencil, and points his ready wit.
When the pupil spoils the tracing, and breaks his Archbutt scale
With laughter and with merriment then shall they tell the tale.
Whilst the pupil rubs his Indian ink
And the draughtsman wipes his pen
They still recount with wonder
The valour of those men.
And still we hear the story—told with mirth and glee,
In any West end office, where merry draughtsmen be.
F L M E .
(Picked up somewhere between Downing Street
and Khartoum.)
* * * * *
But the statesman’s brow was dark,
And fear was in his eye,
For he saw the wild storm rising
Across his summer sky.
“The Mahdi, he will water
His steeds at Cairo’s gate;—
No Caucus, and no Chamberlain,
Can save us from our fate!”
Then out spoke gallant Gordon,—
All fearless was his speech,—
“What could a man ask better,
Than to stand in the fiery breach;
To go at England’s bidding
And rend the sordid chain,
That binds the desert peoples,
For the sake of a Pasha’s gain;
To build up out of ruin
Order and peace once more;
To burn the thongs for scourging,
To break the prison door?”
* * * * *
Alone stood our brave hero,
But constant still in mind,
In front, foes thick as desert sand,
And sneaking friends behind.
“Now curse it,” quoth Lord Hartington,[103]
“Blood-guiltiness I fear;
The sun beats strong, the way is long,
And English gold is dear!”
“Aye! curse it,” quoth smooth Granville,
“Yet will I speak him fair;
 “And show in my despatches
“A Minister’s wise care,
“To save him from the bad Zebehr,
“And from the Mahdi too;
“And praise him, while we leave him
“To sink with all his crew!”
“Aye! curse it,” quoth Spectator,
“Why raise a hand to save
“The friends he’s gathered round him;
“Let each man dig his grave,
“Or join the coming Mahdi,
“Or take himself to flight;
“We’ll rally round the Government,
“And have a faction fight.”
Round turned he as not deigning,
Those craven ranks to see,
Nought spake he to Lord Hartington,
To Granville nought spake he;
But he turned to the English people
And spoke to the English heart,
That ever has throbbed the higher
When called to choose its part.

“I came here at your bidding,

“I came to try and save;
“I spoke of that far England,
“Away beyond the wave,
“Whose hand could reach the helpless,
“Whose shield could bar the way,
“And would not leave to perish
“One life, that owned her sway.
“And now, forsooth, I’m bidden
“To save myself in flight.”
* * * * *

A H .
Pall Mall Gazette. May, 1884.
 ——:o:——
There are many other parodies of Horatius possessing less general
interest than those already quoted.
As most of them are very long, only a few verses of each will be given,
sufficient to indicate the subject, and style of treatment. As the source from
whence each is derived will be named, the complete parodies can easily be
obtained.
It will be noticed that the last four or five verses of Horatius have been
especially favoured by the parodists.
L P .
This amusing parody originally appeared in College Rhymes, 1855, but
has since been issued in pamphlet form (price sixpence), by Messrs. T.
Shrimpton and Son, Oxford, and has had a large sale.
Adolphus Smalls, of Boniface,
By all the powers he swore,
That though he had been plucked three times
He would be plucked no more.
By all the powers he swore it,
And put on “Coaches” three,
And many a livelong night he read,
With sported oak, and towell’d head,
To get him his “degree.”
* * * * *
They gave him his “Testamur,”
That was a Passman’s right—
He was more than three Examiners
Could “plough” from morn to night.

And in each Oxford College,

In the dark November days,
When Undergraduates fresh from hall
 Are gathering round the blaze:
When the crusted port is opened
And the Palmer’s lamp is lit,
When the weed glows in the freshman’s mouth,
And makes him turn to spit:
When “goes” unlimited are forced
On some unhappy gull,
When victims, doomed to mull their pass,
Unconscious pass the mull:
With chaffing and with laughing.
They still the tale renew,
How Smalls, of Boniface, went in,
And, actually got through.
A .
 Several imitations of Horatius occur in early volumes of Punch, one as
far back as December 4, 1847, entitled the “Mustering of the Hobbies, a
Lay of Modern Babylon,” refers to politicians many of whom are dead, and
to events most of which are now forgotten. Another, dated January 26,
1856, “The Sibylline Books, a Lay of Ancient Rome for the consideration
of modern Russia,” is also quite out of date. It contained certain advice
which Mr. Punch considered advisable to address to the Emperor of Russia.
When Macaulay was created a baron, it was practically a life peerage, as
he was unmarried and unlikely to marry, Punch had some verses
congratulating him on the event, and referring to Mr. Baron Parke, who, in
1856, had been raised to the peerage as Lord Wensleydale, with the usual
succession to his heirs male, who did not exist, and never came into being.
H T M M
P .
The Consul Palmerstonius
Hath ta’en down his D ,
And o’er its storied pages
His anxious brow is set.
Those are not age’s wrinkles
The Consul’s cheek that plough,
It is not time that sprinkles
That snow upon his brow.

The Consul closed the volume—

He closed it with a bang!
And he seized his slate and pencil
From the wall where they did hang;
And straight he set to ciphering,
And out a sum he brought;
And his sum was of six figures,
And it ended with a nought.

So the united ages

Of the Patricians stood,
When Consul Palmerstonius
 Vowed they must have new blood.
What though your novi homines
Do not always wax in wit;
Oft Patricius, like Poeta,
Proves “nascitur non fit.”

“Besides, as after physic

The matron gives her child
A crust of blandest honey,
To make the bitter mild;
So I, for the Patricians,
A pleasant peer must find,
To take away the savour
Wens’dalius left behind.

“Patres majorum gentium,

Patres minorum, too,
Your seats upon those benches
To sources strange are due:
The fruit of royal bye-blows,
The growths of courtier-slime
The brawny sons of rapine,
The heirs of reckless crime.

“The sword hath dibbled often

Holes for patrician seed;
And many a lawyer’s tongue hath licked
All shoes, and oft unfee’d,
No stooping found too lowly,
No crawling thought too mean,
If but a Conscript Father
He might at last be seen.

“I’ll raise to the Patricians,

One who ne’er wore steel, nor lied,
Whose weapon was his goose-quill,
Whose pleadings were world-wide;
Whose foes were Falsehood, Prejudice,
 Fraud, Sophistry, and Wrong—
With which he held wit-combat,
Wit-combat, brave and long!

“So, when that Palmerstonius

Hath gone where all must go—
E’en those whose brains glow fiery
’Neath coronals of snow:
Write by the Appian way-side,
On the tomb where he is laid,
‘Of Manlius Macauleius
He a Patrician made.’”
(Four verses omitted.)

Punch. September 19, 1857.

 T B L G .
By the Author of “The Lays of Ancient Rum.”
It was a song of sorrow,
Blent with a solemn vow,
Floated across the lovely lake,
And up the mountain’s brow.
Glenlivit! O, Glenlivit!
No wonder that we grieve;
Glenlivit! O, Glenlivit!
Why should we ever leave?

No, we will never leave it,

By oaths let us avouch,
As long as mountain dew exists,
And plack is in the pouch.
Ye Parliament oppressors,
Who Scotia ne’er could quell,
Our fathers fought ye stoutly,—
Their sons can fight as well!

The poet then recounts the fight between the lovers of Whiskey, and the
Temperance party, led on by Forbes Mackenzie, in which, after a
tremendous struggle, Whiskey is triumphant:—
Glenlivit’s joyous victors
With cheers the welkin rent,
And home was Forbes Mackenzie
Upon a shutter sent.

Now you who hear this story,

Don’t doubt it, if you please;
Have I not told you things before
As wonderful as these?
Why should you doubt a legend
Because ’tis nearer home?
Or can no fables please you
 But those that come from Rome?

This parody, which consists of 25 verses, is to be found in Rival Rhymes

in Honour of Burns, by Ben Trovato. London. Routledge and Co. 1857.
This book is generally ascribed to Samuel Lover, the novelist.
 L M E .
Augustus Smith, of Scilly,
By Piper’s Hole he swore
That the proud Lord of Brownlow
Should keep the waste no more.
By Piper’s Hole he swore it,
And named a trysting night,
And bade his myrmidons ride forth,
By special train from London’s north,
To venge the Common Right.

Where on the street of Drummond

Four Doric columns frown,
Where the gigantic Stephenson
On his own line looks down,
The stalwart navvies gathered,
From lodgings far and near;
Strong were the crowbars in their hands,
Stronger their hope for beer.

Loured the foul London gaslights,

And made the gloom more deep,
The million-peopled city’s sons
Were in their early sleep,
When from the Euston Station
Glided the special train
That bore the force that went to win
Berkhampstead’s waste again.

On, the steam-demon bore them,

Nor flagged upon the wing,
Until he lighted with his load
At Baptist-chapelled Tring.

They marched three miles in silence,

The road was dark and drear,
One thought upheld the navvy’s heart
 The pleasant thought of beer.
They reached Berkhampstead Common
Or that which had been one,
Until by Ashridge’s proud Lord
The feudal deed was done.

There, miles of iron railing

Scowled grimly in the dark,
Making what once was Common,
The Lord of Brownlow’s Park:
His rights that Lord asserted,
Rights which they hold a myth,
The bold Berkhampstead Commoner,
Led by Augustus Smith.

Spoke out the nameless Leader,

“That Railing must go down”
Then firmer grasped the crowbar
Those hands so strong and brown,
They march against the railing,
They lay the crowbars low,
And down and down for many a yard
The costly railings go.

So down went Brownlow’s railings,

And down went Hazell’s beer,
And from the gathering crowd upgoes
One loud and lusty cheer.
For carriage, gig, and dog-cart
Come rushing on the scene,
And all Berkhampstead hastes to see,
Where Brownlow’s rails had been.

And husbands, wives, and children,

Went strolling through the gorse,
And cried, “We’ve got our own again,
Thanks to your friendly force.”
They cut green little morsels
 As memories of the Band,
Whose lusty arms and iron bars
Had freed the Common land.

Bold was the deed and English

The Commoners have done,
Let’s hope the law of England, too,
Will smile upon their fun.
For our few remaining Commons
Must not be seized or sold,
Nor Lords forget they do not live
In the bad days of old.
(Seven verses omitted.)

Punch. March 24, 1866.

 The Book of Ballads, edited by Bon Gaultier (William Blackwood and
Sons, Edinburgh), contains a poem by the late Professor W. E. Aytoun,
entitled The Lay of Mr. Colt. The story it recounts is repulsive, Colt, being
condemned to death for murder, was lying in prison in New York, but on
the morning of the execution he committed suicide under peculiar
circumstances. The poem itself is not a parody, but it concludes with the
following imitation of the closing lines of Horatius:—
And when the lamp is lighted
In the long November days,
And lads and lasses mingle
At the shucking of the maize;
When pies of smoking pumpkin
Upon the table stand,
And bowls of black molasses
Go round from hand to hand;
When slap jacks, maple sugared,
Are hissing in the pan,
And cider with a dash of gin,
Foams in the social can;
When the goodman wets his whistle,
And the goodwife scolds the child,
And the girls exclaim convulsively,
“Have done, or I’ll be riled!”
When the loafer sitting next them
Attempts a sly caress,
And whispers, “Oh! you ’possum,
You’ve fixed my heart I guess!”
With laughter and with weeping,
Then shall they tell the tale,
How Colt his foeman quartered,
And died within the jail.
 T G D .
Jan Larrens[104] of Calcutta,
Chief Knight of India’s Star,
Has sworn by all the Hindoo gods
He’ll hold a Grand Durbar.
By Gunga’s stream he swore it
And named at once the day,
Then bade his Aides-de-camp go forth,
East, and west, and south, and north,
To summon the array.
(The description of the Durbar which here follows, occupies about five
hundred lines, many of which are scarcely intelligible to those who have not
resided in India.)
And through the heat of summer,
Warm night and sultry day,
While Brahmins teach the girls to love
And Hindu youths to pray;
When, through the Rajah’s palace,
Or in the poor man’s hut,
Against the winds of winter
The doors are closely shut;
When in his close Zenana
The Indian swell reclines,
And smokes the bubbling hookah
And quaffs forbidden wines;
And when in dufter-khanah
Lall-puggree counts the gains
He made from swarthy chieftains
On Agra’s sun-burnt plains;
When the ryot drives the bullock,
And twists his broken tail;
When Hindo maidens seek their loves,
And old crones fiercely rail;
When the woman cooks the curry,
And piles it on the rice,
 And the baboo and the labourer
Alike count up their pice,
In every home in Agra,
In many a place afar,
They’ll tell the tale of that day when
Jan Larrens held Durbar.
From Lyrics and Lays. By Pips. Calcutta, Wyman 1867.