Showing Up

November 5, 2009

abraham-lincoln-antietam-battlefield

One of the most powerful acts of leadership is often the easiest to overlook:  the decision to remain standing.  As my obsession with Lincoln continues, I find that I’m most moved by his ability to simply endure.  Lincoln revealed a pattern of political brilliance, but he often chose the wrong spaces on the moral and military chessboard.  Those missteps arguably delayed a Union victory and weakened the movement to end slavery.

But the man showed up.  He showed up even when he was crippled by despair, even on days when his army was routed, his soldiers were sacrificed by mediocre generals, his country was burning, his children were dying, his wife was descending into madness, his political future was doomed, his life was threatened (Booth was not the first one to take a shot at him), and his God had seemingly forsaken him.

Lincoln made it into the office. Sometimes it was on the emotional equivalent of his hands and knees, but he managed to get back up, and that choice saved the fact and idea of America.  For all the talk of his strategic mind and silver tongue, Lincoln’s daily decision to stand may have been the one that made the difference.

These aren’t easy times.  The burden of leadership is weighing heavily on many people right now.  There are countless reasons to abandon the task, to retreat to a fetal position and fend for yourself.  Lincoln gives us a model for resisting that call. He challenges us to simply show up. On many days that will be enough.


Feedback — Do It Right or Not At All

October 21, 2009

I had the rare pleasure of spending a weekend in Bermuda with six talented and dynamic friends.  Our ambitions vary widely at this point in our lives, despite the similarity of our professional DNA (we all met as thirtysomething women at Harvard Business School). Some of us are gunning for top spots at some of the world’s most competitive companies.  Some, like me, are still searching for the right voice and path.  Some are embracing motherhood as a vocation.

Some are doing all of the above.

I had three clear takeaways from the weekend.  One, I need my friends.  I need a strong team around me to have any hope of taking the ride of modern living with sufficient grace.  Two, I need a better plan for declaring my marital status in countries that don’t recognize my marriage.  I was really stumped when the border guard asked for clarification when I couldn’t decide whether I was a “Miss” or “Mrs,” which is a disservice to the screaming toddlers in line behind me.  And, three, feedback systems are not working very well in most organizations.

All of us had had frustrating recent experiences giving or receiving feedback within the structure imposed by an organization, and the pattern seemed material.  In many cases, formal reviews were incredibly resource-consuming (measured in months of corporate effort, not weeks or days), with an often shockingly unclear payoff.  Informal feedback was regularly ad-hoc, clumsy and unproductive.

In this focus group of seven, the examples where feedback worked had occurred in organizations with the following characteristics:

  • Improvement was an integral part of the culture, in all areas.
  • People were considered the firm’s primary strategic asset.
  • Investments had been made in feedback training – how to give, receive and solicit effective feedback — not just in compliance with the appropriate tools and forms.
  • Feedback was actually incorporated into the incentives and promotions structure, not just rhetorically incorporated.
  • The feedback model reflected the firm’s strategy and values, as well as the skills needed to perform a particular role.  As a result, the process connected participants to the organization’s larger purpose.

All of us, at some point, had endured feedback in organizations that lacked these characteristics.  These experiences were, at best, harmless and distracting, and at worst, damaging for participants both professionally and personally.  The consensus, non-scientific view from the group?  It may be better to have no formal feedback system than a bad one or even a mediocre one, which I would argue describes too many organizations today.  Too many are checking the box on a review process, then getting on with the real business of the firm.  This choice, it seems, is not free.


The Unstable Pack Leader

October 13, 2009

Amy Wallace of the NY Times just offered up a rambling, poetic tribute to Cesar Millan, better known as the “Dog Whisperer,” for the NY Times business section.  Millan has an extraordinary personal story.  He was a poor kid from rural Mexico who crossed the border illegally and now presides over a dog-themed media empire that grosses annual revenues in the “mid seven figures.”  He counts Oprah and Michael Eisner among his clients.  He wants a plane.  For the dogs, of course.  Flying cargo is degrading.

Millan is in the “dog rehabilitation business.”  Or as he likes to clarify, he rehabilitates dogs and trains people.  He’s brought in to correct canine mischief, but to get there he has to teach humans how to become better leaders of their dogs.  The dogs have typically taken over the household, and he shows his clients how to reclaim and maintain their pack leader status.  The change is often instantaneous, sometimes as soon as Millan walks in the door.  This makes for great television, which is why 11 million people tune in to watch his show every week.

An uncomfortable amount of his advice is relevant to leading people, too.  According to Millan, dogs thrive with generous amounts of exercise, discipline and affection.  They love to be led, and are less anxious and more productive when someone else is clearly in charge.  They have an overwhelming preference for pack leaders who bring “calm, assertive energy” to the task.  (Millan’s worldview gave me a new lens on the showdown between No Drama Obama and John “The Maverick” McCain.  Senator McCain has many strengths, but “calm, assertive energy” is not among them.)

What doesn’t translate from dogs to people?  According to Millan, dogs “won’t be around unstable energy. That’s how much integrity they have.”  One of Cesar’s favorite observations, in fact, is that human beings are the only animals that will follow unstable pack leaders.  That’s how much integrity we lack is the not-so-subtle implication.

I agree with the observation, but I read it a bit differently.  I think we’ll tolerate instability in our leaders not because we lack integrity on a mass scale, but because we’re so hungry for leadership, even hungrier than our four-legged friends.  Our progress as individuals and organizations and nations is so dependent on it, in fact, that we’ll override our basic instincts and follow people who aren’t really up for the task.  Close enough, we seem to conclude, with sometimes devastating consequences.


Unsolicited Advice for Obama’s Gay Speech

October 6, 2009
The President is delivering the keynote address for the Human Rights Campaign’s annual Washington dinner. The context includes frustration in the gay community for his mixed signals on reforming policies such as Don’t Ask Don’t Tell and the Defense of Marriage Act. He and his team have also surprised observers by their lack of demonstrated grace on the issue of gay rights.  My suggestions for getting it right Saturday night:
  1. Assume a high sensitivity to trivializing the issues. Keep it sober, earnest, honest, direct.
  2. We don’t believe you when you say you’re outsourcing this one to the Bible.
  3. Gays in the military is not a hypothetical issue. Gay soldiers are now serving and dying for America. You are their Commander-in-Chief.
  4. This is about identity, not lifestyle or sex. Convince yourself of that before you take the podium.
  5. Serious scholars think your political hero was probably a homosexual.
  6. There are dangers to over-learning the lessons of the Clinton administration (see over-correction on healthcare strategy). The don’t-waste-your-political-capital advice is obsolete.
  7. Not to alarm you, but the crazy thing about us is that we’re everywhere and nowhere. We’re safely in that “other” camp, and then suddenly we’re your colleagues and your spouses and your children. Just ask Dick.
  8. Tell it to us straight, if you will. We’re very good at separating posture from truth. It’s one of the closet’s many gifts.
  9. Courage and caution can’t coexist for long.
  10. Lose the Blackberry holster. A fashion don’t.
  11. Bring Michelle.
  12. Man up.


On Glenn Beck

September 20, 2009

If you ever wonder how much exposure matters in your ability to influence people, Glenn Beck is as pure an experiment as you’ll find on the public stage. Beck is all heart, no head.  As much as he’s attacked for his words, his critics don’t get that his words don’t much matter. What does matter is that by stripping down in front of his audience, with no armor to protect himself or the rest of us from his swirling emotions, he gives his viewers permission to feel things, too.  That’s good television.

It’s also good leadership, or at least the foundation for it.  Whatever you think of Beck’s politics, he’s been able to influence the behavior of a lot of people over the last six months.  The chattering class is confused and appalled.  How is it possible that a man who told us FEMA might be building concentration camps has a large and growing following?

I recall seeing him host an obscure cable access show three or four years ago. I was stuck in an anonymous airport hotel in Miami, desperate for distraction from my own circumstances, and I stumbled on his show.  I was riveted.  I couldn’t leave the room, even with the promise of a fruity, poolside umbrella drink, and I stared for a jaw-dropping hour while he and his guests wrestled openly with their demons.  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing or my own reaction to it.  Sure, here was a crazy man, talking crazy, but that part got old after a few minutes.  What kept me there was the strangely empowering part of the ride.  In Glenn Beck’s universe, it was ok to feel things intensely and to channel those emotions into action and progress. This was exciting for a good WASP from Ohio.

I rarely agree with Beck’s proposed actions or definition of progress, but I’m convinced that there are lessons in his ascent for anyone who aspires to leadership. Show up. Remove whatever mask you’re wearing to protect yourself from judgment, and give us regular access to the emotions that drive you.

That means you, too, Mr. President.


The Morality of Profit

September 11, 2009

The Seven Fund is inviting submissions for a collection of essays it’s creating on the “morality of profit.” True to its belief in the value of risk and reward, the Fund will be giving $20,000 to the best of the pack, with an emphasis on fresh, innovative voices that challenge us to think about profit in new ways.

As the discussion of the contest suggests, our emotional and intellectual ambivalence about profit may be influencing our strategies for solving poverty and other problems.  The raging debate over public and private health insurance markets is just one example. Enterprise solutions to poverty, in particular, are often caught in the cultural crossfire between Ghandi and Gekko, between a notion of greed that is always destructive and the belief that  “greed, for lack of a better word, is good.”

The time is right for this important discussion. Details can be found here.


Feedback and Trust

September 4, 2009

I want to revisit your discussion on feedback, Frances, because I think the topic often gets lost in the race to do things that feel more important organizationally.

The ability and willingness to communicate honestly is often framed as a soft contribution, nice but not critical in these serious times.  I take the opposite view.  I think feedback is the central act in building organizations since it creates the raw material that matters most:  trust.

Trust is necessary for any task that involves more than one person, which includes most of what an organization does all day (deciding things, making things, selling things). Trust persuades your employees to give you their best ideas and most productive hours.  Trust convinces your customers to believe your brand promises.

Trust gets built when we do what we say we will do. This is a fairly straightforward concept, but somehow gets highly complex in practice.  Calls get dropped.  Guitars get broken. Bonuses go unpaid. Companies who are competing on strong relationships with their stakeholders – think Google, Zappos, Whole Foods — work hard to prevent these violations, big and small.  They understand that trust dies in the space between talk and action.

But here’s the thing — we’re not reliable observers of these gaps in our own behavior. This is where feedback enters the story. We often don’t know when we’re letting our constituents down.  We often don’t know when we’re under-delivering on commitments, spoken or unspoken.  Feedback gives people the chance to address the variance, to close the distance between chatter and truth.

Customers give you this gift when they pick up the phone to “complain.”  A complaint identifies the weakness in the relationship, the place where trust must be built or rebuilt.  Frustrated and articulate customers are the competitive equivalent of Christmas morning, but they’re more likely to be treated like a nuisance or distraction.

The same dynamics play out in all human relationships.  Trust gets eroded every day between reasonable, well-intentioned people, and it can’t be restored unless we talk honestly with each other.   The reason feedback can change lives, as you suggest, is not just because it makes someone else better in a vague sense. Feedback changes lives because it creates the opening for greater integrity in our most important relationships. Feedback builds trust. And trust builds everything else.


Explore vs. Exploit

August 18, 2009

Alison Gopnik, a Berkeley psychology professor, described how babies learn in a recent NYT op-ed she provocatively titled, “Your Baby is Smarter Than You Think.”  The article shot to the top of the paper’s “most popular” list, partly for its challenge to the widespread investment in trying to get babies to behave like Type A adults — goal-oriented, focused, socially motivated to achieve.

I was struck by her observation that babies are most engaged when they’re exploring new things, while adults prefer exploiting known skill sets:

Very young children imagine and explore a vast array of possibilities. As they grow older and absorb more evidence, certain possibilities become much more likely and more useful. They then make decisions based on this selective information and become increasingly reluctant to give those ideas up and try something new. Computer scientists talk about the difference between exploring and exploiting — a system will learn more if it explores many possibilities, but it will be more effective if it simply acts on the most likely one. Babies explore; adults exploit.

This distinction matters in organizations, too.  Despite our best managerial intentions, most organizations are primarily designed to do one or the other well.  In our business, we call it “organized to execute” or “organized to learn.”  The concept is the brain child of Frances’s HBS colleague, Amy Edmondson.  A firm’s strategy, operations and culture generally line up to either explore or exploit opportunities, rarely both.

But success often requires pivoting from one to the other (and sometimes back again) over the life span of a company.  This is a clear pattern in start-ups, which usually require a high experimental capacity in the beginning, but then have to shift to head-down execution once the business model falls into place.  The transition can be painful, as explorers often have to cede control to exploiters before they’re emotionally ready. And the young firm’s culture, built to dwell in possibility and manage significant risk, can often be one step behind. Similarly, market leaders faced with a disruptive competitor often have to learn how to learn again.  This pivot can be even more wrenching.

Great organizations learn to do both before their survival is on the line, but it often means separating the explorers from the exploiters.  Just as babies and adults rarely play well together, world-class exploiters and outstanding explorers are different animals that need different environments to thrive.  Practically, this often means walling them off from each other, as many firms do with separate R&D shops.

The biggest risk here is that these departments are not separate enough.  Each function needs its own rules and inputs to perform well — think of it as the kids’ table at Thanksgiving dinner — and companies often resist these separations. The exploiters at the top don’t like the messiness of multiple systems, and the idea feels vaguely unfair to someone.  If staying power is your goal, however, the lessons are clear.  A few ruffled feathers and some added complexity are worth it.


Katrina’s Environmental Subplot

August 11, 2009

I am a reluctant environmentalist.  I like people more than animals, animals more than plants.  I’ve come around to caring about our mismanagement of the environment because of the devastating effects of that mismanagement on human beings.

There is not a more vivid metaphor for the human costs of environmental incompetence than the direct links between the destruction of Gulf Coast wetlands and the horror show that unfolded in the Superdome on 8/29/05.  As Time’s Michael Grunwald wrote in 2007, in his scathing exploration of Katrina and her enablers:

….FEMA was the scapegoat, but the real culprit was the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, which bungled the levees that formed the city’s man-made defenses and ravaged the wetlands that once formed its natural defenses. Americans were outraged by the government’s response, but they still haven’t come to grips with the government’s responsibility for the catastrophe.

Ravaged wetlands are not a central part of the narrative we’ve built around Katrina, at least not up North.  When we do acknowledge the human missteps leading to the not-so-natural disaster, we invoke Brownie’s “heckuva job” and W vacationing while whole neighborhoods drowned.  That’s the story we like to tell around Boston.  Sometimes we bring the Corps into it, usually for its engineering mistakes with the levees themselves.

But Grunwald and others have made a powerful case that the most tragic leadership failures can be traced to the “U.S’s cockamamie approach to water resources,” a decades-long, pork-filled drama that doles out responsibility across generations, sectors and Congressional aisles.  Everybody got it wrong by razing wetland barriers, and the most vulnerable among us paid the ultimate price.

One of the challenges of mainstreaming the environmental movement is its lingering sentimentality.  Another is its emphasis on valuing the future more than the present, a message that is often heavy with moral authority.  Katrina reminds us that smart, strategic stewardship of the environment matters right now.  I’m unlikely to ever hug a tree for the tree’s sake.  But when that tree starts teetering towards my fellow citizens, I find that my affection for it grows.


Anna Deavere Smith on the Beer Summit

August 1, 2009

Anna Deavere Smith

Anna Deavere Smith is best known for playing diverse characters in powerful, thoroughly researched, one-woman shows about events that shake us at the foundation such as the L.A. riots.  Smith is among the great observers of our time.  She holds a mirror up at an angle that always illuminates and sometimes burns.

I saw her perform last fall in Let Me Down Easy, a show that explores the presence and absence of grace.  The characters she channeled ranged from Rwandan genocide survivors to a horse trainer in Kentucky.  Some part of me was scared to be less than 20 feet away from her.  I wasn’t sure I could handle the truths she was about to reveal.  She let me down easy.  When I saw her the next day at a gym around Cambridge, it took all of my self-control not to interrupt her stretching and thank her for being gentle.

Smith weighed in on the Beer Summit this week in a blog entry on The Huffington Post.  She spends a lot of the post working through her own conflicted relationship with the police, and then lands with a strong challenge to the prescriptions being offered for making good use of this “teachable moment.”  She suggests that most of what we’re hearing is too soft, too 1998, a year that no one has examined like Smith.  We now need to pivot, she argues, from teaching and learning to action:

What concerns me about the “heated debate” is that as radio hosts and guests talk, I hear the same kind of language that I heard — and studied — in the ’90s. Talk of “safe places to have conversations,” for example. That’s not what we need right now. This is not about conversations and “learning about one another.” We don’t need salons. We need initiatives and resources to spark the work of building a stronger society, one with public spaces that allow for shared excellence.


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