Who wants bread?

There's an age-old parable that goes something like this:

There once was a little red hen who lived on a farm. The hen's friends were a little black dog, a big orange cat, and a little yellow goose. One day, the red hen found some grains of wheat. "I can make bread from this," thought the red hen.

The little red hen asked, "Who will help me plant the wheat?"

"Not I," said the little black dog.
"Not I," said the big orange cat.
"Not I," said the little yellow goose.

"Then I will do it myself," said the little red hen. And she planted the wheat without any help at all.

The little red hen asked, "Who will help me cut the wheat?"

"Not I," said the little black dog.
"Not I," said the big orange cat.
"Not I," said the little yellow goose.

"Then I will do it myself," said the little red hen. And she cut the wheat without any help at all.

The tired little red hen asked, "Who will help me take the wheat to the mill and grind it into flour?"

"Not I," said the little black dog.
"Not I," said the big orange cat.
"Not I," said the little yellow goose.

"Then I will do it myself," said the tired little red hen. So she took the wheat to the mill and ground it into flour without any help at all.

The very, very tired little red hen asked, "Who will help me bake the bread?"

"Not I," said the little black dog.
"Not I," said the big orange cat.
"Not I," said the little yellow goose.

"Then I will do it myself," said the very, very tired little red hen. And she baked the bread without any help at all.

The hot, fresh bread smelled very good. The little red hen asked, "Now, who will help me eat this bread?"

"I will!" said the little black dog.
"I will!" said the big orange cat.
"I will!" said the little yellow goose.

"No, you won't! I will do it myself!" yelled the little red hen. And she ate the bread without any help at all.

The End

The intended conclusion is that only those who put forth effort are permitted to enjoy its bounty. Fair enough, but I contend that this is actually a story about the little red hen's failure to motivate.

Our feathered protagonist is a visionary: she can see a grain of wheat and visualize its progression into a fully-realized loaf of bread! That's one hell of a bright bird, and she definitely deserves to be rewarded. But then she begins down a path towards failure through martyrdom and mis-management: Rather than expressing her vision to her associates, she expects to enlist them in arbitrary work efforts.

Without any context, the dog, cat and goose have zero incentive to help the little red hen. Given the choice between hauling wheat to a mill, and NOT hauling wheat to a mill, most self-respecting farm animals will save their backs. If the little red hen includes a tasty slice of bread as a factor in the cost/benefit equation, she will garner more support.

Because the hen has not created an open dialog, she doesn't have an understanding of what it will take to get support. She can get the dog on board with her bread vision, but the goose requires an additional round of convincing. He thinks it's fine to just eat the wheat as-is, until the hen expresses how much better it will be to make the investment in a much more satisfying meal. Meanwhile, the cat has a wheat allergy and will never be a stakeholder in this project. The little red hen can move forward with this new understanding instead of assuming that the cat is just a lazy asshole, and she can seek the cat's support for the next non-wheat project.

More importantly, if the other farm animals are aligned on the end goal, they have an opportunity to provide additional contributions or input. The dog knows how to score packets of yeast from the farmhouse so they can enjoy fluffier bread, and the goose can contribute some delectible berries to sweeten their meal. Even though the cat has opted out, she knows a shorter route to the mill that will save them 30% on their hauling efforts. This may be the brightest hen on earth, but she's still limited by her own vision and capacity while the dog, goose and cat have much to contribute.

In the original parable, nobody wins. We all know that the other animals miss out on the bread, and the hen's victory is hollow: her bread is limited to her finite imagination and resources, and she probably burned more calories making it than she will consume by eating it. Meanwhile, everybody thinks she's being a self-righteous punk - and that attitude lasts beyond the shelf date on her bread. Because they've been jerked around this time, they'll be even more disinclined to help her next time.

In order to make her future intiatives successful, the little red hen must learn how to present her vision, create a dialog, and motivate her farm. Unless she can do this, she's setting herself up for a lifetime of frustration, a lonely death, and failure to reach fruition on more than a tiny fraction of her plans.

That's a sad fate for a genius hen.