I occasionally visit art museums with family and friends, but I’m not very good company. My enthusiasms get the better of me and I become a tad, well, pedantic. I might go on about the difference between impressionism and neo-impressionism, or talk at length about why the paint in Mark Rothko’s paintings is decomposing, or something equally meaningless to most people. In short, I’m a bore. But what I really love is to wander by myself through unoccupied museum galleries on quiet weekday mornings. Then, I can contemplate a painting for as long as I wish, with no one complaining about tired feet or wanting a snack. As I meander, my thoughts do too. At times I can connect what I’m viewing to the topic of organizational leadership, a subject I’m equally passionate about.
Kevin sagged when he recounted his past few years as president of a troubled division of a major insurance company. “I’m damaged goods,” he started. “I loved my career until they promoted me to turn around this failing unit. I became a real jerk. I screamed at people. I was called a bloodthirsty mercenary by the press. I downsized so many people that employees here called me Darth Vader. Heck, I wouldn’t even work for me anymore.” I was struck by Kevin’s searing self-criticism. I know him as a strong, yet humane leader with a great track record and a strategic viewpoint. In fact, his turnaround efforts were acknowledged by outsiders as both necessary and successful. How could he be drawing such negative conclusions about himself despite such a long history of success?
Leading organizational change without first changing ourselves simply doesn’t work. To enable change beyond superficial window-dressing, we must understand what we are doing to maintain the status quo. The enemy of change is often looking at us in the mirror. To lead change effectively, we need the courage to look back. Rick, the CEO of a consumer products company, complained that his highly paid vice presidents bounced decisions to him that they should have made on their own. This prevented him fulfilling the strategic aspect of his role, which included identifying acquisitions that would fuel growth. Instead, Rick spent much of his time resolving internal squabbles. Ironically, his key lieutenants voiced similar complaints – their own direct reports bickered constantly and rarely made decisions without ‘delegating upward.’ This slowed down the pace of new product introductions and stymied innovation.
Over half of my executive coaching clients have “improve delegating effectiveness” as a development priority. All are experienced senior players; each has a long, successful track record. And yet, they all share a simple, yet profound blind spot that turns them, and the people they delegate to, into jug heads. Last year, I began work with an especially talented client. As the new CEO of a mid-sized Chamber of Commerce, her board suggested she engage me to help her “change the Chamber’s leadership culture.” After she quickly reviewed her background and the Chamber’s priorities, Chris got right to the point: “I’m not sure I’ve got the right team. They’re fairly experienced, but they lack urgency. I have to keep following up just to make sure things get done and I really don’t have the time to babysit senior staff.”
The football coach stood frustrated on the sideline as his quarterback threw incomplete passes. He suddenly rushed onto the field, grabbed the ball from the quarterback’s hands, and started passing to the startled wide receivers. After the coach completed a pass he returned the ball to the quarterback, and said, “my boy, that is how its done,” as he walked off the field. This never really happened. But countless times managers behave the same way by grabbing a ‘problem’ out of their employees’ hands, ‘solving’ it by taking over, and then thinking they are good coaches. They are wrong.
“I’m stuck…. I can’t move,” my friend stammered, as he stood frozen trying to exit my open front door. Brent has Parkinson’s, a neurological disease that sends conflicting messages within his brain. One part of his brain knew the door was a safe passage to home. Yet at the same time, another part of his brain perceived the door as a dangerous open window. This part of the brain sends directives to his legs to either stop or go. After an awkward moment, Brent took surprising action. Leading with his head, he forced himself to fall forward through the doorway. His legs responded by trying desperately to catch up with his falling torso. And they did. Safely outside, he turned to me and said sheepishly, “Sometimes my brain has a mind of its own.” Though I don’t have Parkinson’s, I’m all too familiar with times when my mind interferes with what my brain knows I should do. I rationally know that I should exercise daily, but my mind tells me that there are more important things to do. And at work, there are times when my brain knows I should be bold and confront my coaching clients, yet my mind
I’ve always studied teams. The youngest of three boys, as a kid I was mostly a bystander to my family’s tumultuous interactions. While my teenaged brothers and parents sparred in cycles of argument, cooling off and reconciliation, I stayed under the radar, vigilant to any verbal shrapnel that might fly my way. My friends’ families were even more interesting to observe. Some were yellers; some were quiet and civil, yet each seemed more exotic than my own, “normal” family. How, I wondered, could these families be so bizarre and still stay together? More formal education enriched my study of teams, and I’ve worked over the past twenty-five years supporting teams to get better results. But my curiosity has never diminished. Why do some teams flourish while others struggle? A few years ago I came across a body of work that greatly influenced my practice. I recently adapted this system for a senior executive team that was rife with conflict, which led to breakthrough results in their performance. And it was fun…
In the historical, yet fictional movie The Mutiny on the Bounty Spencer Christian and crew cast out the autocratic Captain Bligh and commandeered the ship. Bligh is then punished for his appalling leadership while Christian and his cronies end their days cavorting with natives of a South Pacific island paradise. Yet actually, in real life most of the mutineers were caught and hanged. And after a few self-indulgent years, their native hosts killed Mr. Christian and the remaining sailors. Ironically, Captain Bligh survived a grueling return trip to England and was rewarded with command of other voyages for the British admiralty (two of which resulted in mutinies, but that’s another story). Lesson one? Don’t believe everything you see in movies. Lesson two? Take care when you replace a dictatorial leader. Many leaders believe that authoritarian leadership is obsolete and are convinced that a more engaging approach yields the best results. Yet a large percentage of executives act according to authoritarian principles: They employ top down directives underpinned by a belief that people need to be driven, often by fear.