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This chapter aims to discuss the changes that are happening in the heart of the James Bond films especially with how women are described and treated in the newest versions of the movie franchise. For that, this chapter focusses on Miss Moneypenny, a recurrent presence since the very first movie, Dr. No (1962), and one that also appeared in Ian Fleming’s novels. Fleming based Moneypenny on four different women he knew, and she can be described as an intelligent, brave and beautiful person. Unfortunately, the original movie Moneypenny was painted as almost a comic relief, but since she was portrayed by the actress Naomie Harris in Skyfall (2012) and Spectre (2015), Eve Moneypenny (as she was not called) had an upgrade, becoming an action-oriented woman who provided a new base for the so-called ‘Bond Girls’ of the films.

The Jurassic Park film franchise offers a complex portrayal of gender issues within a long-running science fiction action series, although not one without problematic moments. This chapter examines selected examples from the series to explore this complex picture. These include moments in the series that display female characters such as Ellie Sattler, Sarah Harding and Claire Dearing with power and agency and the top of their respective professions, noting that Jurassic Park is unusual among science fiction films for its presentation of such accomplished female characters. The chapter also addresses the sexualisation of the character Ian Malcolm and the role of the more typical ‘action star’ from later films, Owen Grady. Finally, it considers the question of sex-selection for the non-human characters, namely the dinosaurs, as significant plot points advance upon the premise that the entire dinosaur population in the series consists of non-breeding females, a fact that is later shown to be untrue. The chapter addresses each of these examples through key issues relating to the production, presentation, and violation of the human and non-human living body across the full Jurassic Park series.

This chapter forms the introduction to the book and offers an overview on the main aspects of leadership development that require explanation and further consideration. The current poor state of much development is considered and evidence provided of the deficiency in our understanding of organisations and how they function in actuality.

The misunderstandings about how people behave and how they really manage or lead are explored. One of the most important of these is the assumption of transferability, not just between national and regional cultures but within societal cultures, sectors, industries and organisations. This assumption applies equally to learning interventions which can have contradictory forms by being based on criteria external to the company and the individual leaders within it. The dominance of university business schools is also questioned.

The introduction concludes with an overview of the two-part format of the book and provides a pen picture of each chapter.

This concluding chapter identifies where we might place our attention going forward and confirms the principles on which we should base our work. We do not mandate what should form best practice in leadership development, nor is there an attempt to forecast what might happen globally. We both encourage readers to base their efforts on evidence and point to arenas where there is a particular or pressing need for change, such as in the development of political leaders.

This chapter addresses the continuing lack of systemic thinking and identifies ways in which pressures on leaders are increasing. It also shows how problems of mindset require consideration. The call for diversity will be unsurprising and ways leadership development can and should support this are offered; demand not supply-led, learning as a social process and a call to consider ‘teams’ in a far broader way than its metaphorical origins of ‘teams in competitions with winners and losers’.

We could not end the book without addressing the virtual world into which leaders have been further catapulted recently due to Covid-19. We do not explore this creative landscape in all its exciting detail – that would be a book on its own. We more challenge the idea that the kind of person-centred, open, deeply-reflective and other-connected leadership development the organisational world needs will not be found solely online.

This chapter concludes with a final call to action for all of us to base our work on research, theory and evidenced practice.

In this chapter, we consider how the character of Rob Titchener has been developed in The Archers, moving him from hero of the hour to villain of the piece. We draw on a critical disability studies’ perspective to argue that ability and disability have been crucial in turning the character of Rob from the desirable and attractive man who first arrived in the village into a national hate figure, despised by all. We begin this analysis by introducing critical disability studies and studies of ableism as fields of academic inquiry. We then draw on these resources to offer an analysis of the ways in which ability and disability were used as a narrative device to develop Rob’s character. We question the ways in which ability and disability are used to denote ‘good’ and ‘evil’ in the development of characters in cultural texts like The Archers, and end with a plea to scriptwriters to engage differently with dis/ability and to consider the impact of the stories we tell on the everyday lives of disabled people.

Throughout history, from ballads to requiems, music has played an important social role in reflection on mortality. Not only do musicians articulate their angst and thoughts about death, but, in so doing, they enable listeners to explore their own feelings. While the relationship between music and mental health can be examined from a number of perspectives, two broad approaches can be taken: artist-centred approaches and listener-centred approaches. The first analyses the life and work of artists, focussing particularly on the ways in which they explore death and angst in their music. The second looks at the ways in which the life and work of an artist is interpreted by listeners. Within these general approaches, a complex set of questions emerge – often at the interface of both approaches. How is the music used by listeners in their reflection on mortality? How is music used to manage mental health? Does reflection on the life and work of an artist contribute to suicidal ideation? Is the reception of music altered by an artist’s suicide? Using both these approaches and drawing particularly on the work of Émile Durkheim, this discussion demonstrates the significance of popular music analysis for death studies, focussing particularly on the issues surrounding popular music’s relationship to suicidal ideation.