Minding Gaps

Quote / Unquote: Edward M. Kennedy on Shouting

 

Quote / Unquote is a feature that appears irregularly but frequently. It offers a simple, noteworthy quotation on some aspect of leadership, communication, or business. In most cases we also provide context, comment, or questions to stir discussion.

 

I just finished reading the late Senator Edward M. Kennedy’s memoir, True Compass, and I heartily recommend it to anyone—Republican or Democrat, conservative or liberal—for a fascinating look at politics and public policy through the eyes of the liberal lion.

The book is compulsively readable. Kennedy strings together story after story about his life. He spares no self-incrimination, especially around Chappaquiddick and his personal lifestyle during the 1970s and 1980s. Nor is he stinting in his praise for people he liked and respected, including some noteworthy Republicans, or in his scorn for those he didn’t, including some well-known Democrats.

Toward the end of the book, the late senator tells of a couple of speeches he gave. One of the speeches was to the students and faculty of Liberty Baptist College in Lynchburg, Virginia, which was founded by the late Rev. Jerry Falwell. The other was to his peers at the Senate Prayer breakfast.

In both speeches, Kennedy would be uncommonly forthright about his life—its promises, its principles, its practice, and its pain.

Prior to the Senate Prayer Breakfast speech, Kennedy reminded himself of the need to speak softly, in a quiet and temperate voice. He told himself:

 

The louder our voices become, the more

we grow strangers to each other and ourselves.

 

As you reflect on this quotation, ask yourself whether people argue too much. Ask yourself whether we actively look for common ground as much as we should. Ask yourself what the effect would be of lowering the volume of our debates, and of asking more genuine questions and making fewer tenuous assertions.

 

"You Must Be the Change You Seek"

You have always known that actions speak louder than words. You have known that leaders lead best who lead by example. You have known, too, that people remember a leader's human touch long after they forget his words.

Knowing all this to be true, how are you, as a leader, managing your day-to-day behaviors to send a message of change? How has the message itself changed, and what exactly are you doing to walk the talk?

What old habits have you abandoned? What new behaviors have you begun? How have your priorities changed? What gets an hour of your time now that didn't get a minute before?

How have your routine conversations changed? Who are you greeting by name that you didn't notice before? What questions are you asking that you had never thought to ask?

What are you seeing about people and their work that you didn't see before? More important, what are other people seeing that they didn't see before?

As people watch you and your actions, what is the message they receive? Does it reinforce or contravene the words you speak? How have your behaviors changed to reflect the change in the message? What gaps remain? What are you doing to close them?

Gandhi said: "You must be the change you seek in the world." So be, indeed.

The Single Most Powerful Means of Communication You Have

A kind and generous mentor once taught a salient lesson about communication in business. I have never forgotten it.

It is just this.

The single most powerful means of communication you have—far and away more commanding than any words you speak or write—is the decision.

Yes, that decision.

You make dozens of decisions every day. Many of these decisions are inconsequential. Others have lasting implications. Some decisions are deliberate. Others are impetuous. Some are wise, others foolish. Some are collaborative, the product of discussion and debate. Others are yours alone.

In the next few hours, you may decide whether to take a young employee to lunch, whether to challenge a bureaucratic policy, whether to visit a client, whether to accept a proposal, whether to ask for assistance, or even whether to make a decision about something you have been putting off.

More to the point, you may decide whether to cut corners on a project, whether to promote a technically competent manager who is short with her people, whether to ship a product that meets a deadline but misses a standard, whether to laugh at offensive humor, whether to pick up litter on the sidewalk, whether to tell a little white lie.

By all these decisions and many more, you will reveal yourself and your character to others. Your will show the truth of your priorities and your values. You will declare to the world what is important in your eyes.

Your words may be eloquent. Your baritone may fill an auditorium. You may have a gift for saying just the right thing. But if your decisions stand apart from your words, you will invariably lose control of your message, and ultimately of yourself.

So always remember and never forget: Day in and day out, far and away the single most powerful means of communication you have is the decision. Your decision. This decision, now.

Query: Just Curious About Curiosity

Two weeks ago we introduced another new feature. Appearing irregularly but not infrequently, Query will aspire to be short, simple, and powerful. It will consist of a single question, or perhaps two or three (or four, or five) closely related questions—and that’s it, nothing more—intended to ignite or reignite a flame of introspection, reflection, exploration, and reinvention.

Our intent is not to belabor the point. We won’t build an elaborate context. We won’t try to manage your thinking. All we want to do is start or restart some deeper thinking about your role as a leader, your efforts to engage people, and the effectiveness of your communication. As you wrestle with each question, also ask yourself why we're posing this particular question, and what it means for your impact, influence, and inspiration as a leader.

Here is our second installment:

 

What is the role of curiosity in a business? How much does it matter? What is the value of it, and how much of success is dependent on it?

In what ways do senior managers unintentionally quash the spirit of curiosity in their best people? How does that happen, and why might senior managers be blind or tone deaf to it?

 

Quote / Unquote: John Quincy Adams on Inspirational Leadership

Quote / Unquote is a feature that appears irregularly but frequently. It offers a simple, noteworthy quotation on some aspect of leadership, communication, or business. In most cases we also provide context, comment, or questions to stir discussion.

John Quincy Adams, the first son of a U.S. president to follow in his father’s footsteps, is not particularly known for his leadership. His single term as president, from 1825 to 1829, ended in electoral defeat at the hands of Andrew Jackson, and Adams had little to show for his tenure in office.

Nevertheless, he was a scholarly and deeply reflective gentleman. For more than half a century, he kept a daily diary of his observations and thoughts. He wrestled with big issues, and his insights shine on nearly two centuries later.

Here is a quotation attributed to John Quincy Adams that emphasizes the inspirational component of leadership. Too often, it seems to me, leaders settle for merely influencing others. That is a good start, but it is a small kind of leadership—necessary in exigencies, to be sure, but significantly less than the legacy of historic leaders: Churchill or Mandela or Lincoln, for example. 

Adams declared:

If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more,
do more, and become more, you are a leader.

As you reflect on these words, you may wish to ask yourself:

• What does a leader’s influence look like? What does a leader’s inspiration look like? How are they similar? In what important ways are they different?

• Are there certain behaviors more amendable to simple influence? Do others require inspiration to take hold?

• How have you been influenced but not inspired by leaders? How have you been inspired as well as influenced? How did the difference feel?

• To the extent anyone has remarked on your leadership, directly to you or indirectly about you, has the remark zeroed in on influence or inspiration particularly?

• What are some elementary ways to influence someone? When you list these, do they strike you as the mettle of leadership?

• In what ways are words adequate to the task of influence? In what ways does inspiration require the example of your own decisions, behavior, and dedication?

• How will you adjust your leadership style accordingly?

What Do You Have in Common with Riccardo Muti?

Riccardo Muti, the newly designated music director of the acclaimed Chicago Symphony Orchestra, was drawing one analogy in an interview yesterday morning, and it was a good one. I would like to borrow his analogy and apply it differently, to make a parallel point.

 

In an interview published in the Chicago Tribune, the Italian maestro was addressing a cultural barrier between much of working-class Chicago and the city’s symphony, which has garnered praise and honors around the globe. Then he observed that a symphony must function as a model of civic cooperation.

“Each section of the orchestra plays a different and independent part,” said Muti, referring to the strings and the horns and so forth. “But they put their parts together without killing what their colleagues are doing, so as to achieve a finished performance. They perform together to reach a superior goal—a unity of sound and expression—through cooperation.” He said this broad cooperation was instructive for any community and indeed any society.

A business of any appreciable size has a similar challenge. For sake of example, let’s think of a manufacturer, though the analogy would be equally valid for a service provider or a retail store or a distributor—any organization with divisions and departments. In our example, the sales department, the manufacturing division, and the accounting office are like the strings and the horns of an orchestra. They must work together for everyone’s benefit. If instead they choose to elevate their own interest over the whole organization’s interest, they will wind up with noise, not music. Their “audience”—the customer, after all—will not be happy.

Unfortunately for the business, each division and department does not have its own musical score, its own formal part of the composition to play, note for note. In this respect, the business enterprise is perhaps more like a jazz combo, performing from a theme but with individual instruments playing harmonic riffs of their own, all within the overall framework of the piece. Still, the analogy holds.

Muti’s comment reminded me of a remark that his predecessor, Daniel Barenboim, once made in an interview with Chicago’s classical music radio station, WFMT. Barenboim observed that, as a conductor, it was essential for him to step back and let each performer contribute to the best of her ability. If he ignored that vital principle, if he instead played with a heavy baton that controlled and stifled the individual musicians, the orchestra's music would be heard as oppressed and lifeless.

In both cases, we have tensions that, if managed well, ultimately work to the advantage of the whole, and ultimately to the benefit of the customer. And in both cases, the role of the leader is more to coalesce than to control, more to draw forth than to draw tight, more to inspire than to influence. 

 

In Praise of Mentoring

I haven’t been a full-time student in twenty years, and my daughter, now in law school, has long since ceased to ask her old man's advice on anything academic. Nevertheless, each autumn I look forward to the start of the school year, for a special reason: It’s mentoring time again.

For more than a decade now, I have been mentoring public-policy graduate students at The University of Chicago, where I earned my own master’s degree. I have found mentoring to be as satisfying and rewarding for me as it is intended to be for the student.

For any of you who are not presently involved in a formal mentoring program, I have two words of free advice: Get involved. Mentoring is a powerful opportunity to cultivate another generation of leaders. It is also a wonderful way to give back to the greater community, even if it's just within your company.

If your business already has a mentoring program for younger staff but you’re not involved in it, see if you can become involved. If it doesn’t have a program, take the initiative of establishing one, or at least get the conversation going in that direction. If you are a mentor but you haven’t been putting your heart into it, pause to reflect on the opportunity you are missing.

Alternatively, seek out a college or university that may have a need for someone like you, or find an organization for youth in your community that needs adult role models.

Each year, I am assigned a University of Chicago graduate student who has requested a mentor. We meet several times during the school year for lunch or coffee, and we exchange emails and take time for telephone conversations whenever the need arises.

Our conversations cover the landscape. Sometimes I find myself offering advice on job interviewing and résumés. Because of my own professional expertise, I have worked on a student's skills in expository writing and public speaking. Other times I have just listened as a student vents about a professor whose grading curve is harsh. Still other times I have pushed a student to think more creatively and broadly about his or her future or values or commitment. The students assigned to me are typically new to Chicago, so I have even offered advice on how to enjoy the city on weekends.

The university’s roster of mentors consists of established leaders in metropolitan Chicago. Some are corporate executives. Others are elected or appointed officials of government. Still others are entrepreneurs, or attorneys, or physicians, or administrators of non-profit associations. They all have jam-packed schedules, but they all make time for these high-potential young people.

Just last week, we gathered for our annual mentoring reception and dinner, and I met the young woman with whom I will work this year. Like all the students who have been assigned to me over the years, she is bright, reflective, and articulate. I look forward to working with her.

I have found mentoring to be a constant wellspring of insight and ideas. It keeps me young and continuously invigorated. You will benefit, too. Do give it a try, if not in your place of business then in the greater community. Someone out there needs you, and you have more to offer than you realize now.

Leaders Are Not Bullies, and Bullies Are Not Leaders

Here is an interesting column by Joe Nocera, published Saturday in The New York Times, that illustrates the differences between the work of leadership and the work of management.

It focuses on Kenneth Lewis, who announced his resignation a few days ago as chief executive of the Bank of America, the bank he helped build.

I claim no special insight or perspective on the gentleman. Nocera paints a picture of a self-absorbed, defensive, aloof tyrant. You can decide for yourself.

Several of Nocera’s observations stood out for me, however.

One was the striking contrast between Lewis and his mentor, Hugh L. McColl Jr., who nurtured a small North Carolina bank into a regional powerhouse that bought the San Francisco-based Bank of America for $65 billion in 1998 and moved its headquarters to Charlotte.

McColl was and remains a natural leader who relates well to people. He created a powerful sense of purpose in employees, and they worked fingers to the bone for him. Lewis was just the opposite: brusque, belligerent, bullying. Many employees came to loathe him. No leader can expect to be universally beloved. But every leader needs sufficient loyalty such that followers will give him the benefit of doubt. Lewis didn't have that. He didn't come close.

Another was a problem of performance and purse. You know the story. On his watch, Bank of America stock lost 13 percent of its value, while rival Wells Fargo gained 53 percent. Lewis paid himself well though: Over the last three years, he took home $60 million. “He was hideously overpaid for hideously bad performance,” said one critic, Nell Minow, who monitors corporate executives and boards.

Still another was the lack of succession. Nocera observes that, in the resignation announcement, Lewis said he would remain as chief executive through the end of the year because no one is groomed to succeed him. That’s an obvious mark of a weak leader; it tells you the chief executive is fearful of any threat to his power. Every leader should know who will succeed him, and indeed should take pride in the fact he has successfully cultivated someone who is capable of stepping up.

But you tell me what you think. Perhaps you have a different perspective.

Is Your Fancy Title Getting in Your Way?

I just got off the telephone with an executive at one of America’s leading retailers. With dozens of stores throughout the United States, this company is well-known for its classy merchandise and well-respected for its terrific customer service. To my thinking, it should be equally well-regarded for its culture of innovation and humility.

After years of loyally shopping at this store, and having benchmarked it several years ago, I thought I knew the company’s culture pretty well. But even now, it became clear today, I had something to learn.

Our conversation had wandered around to job titles. The executive shared her opinion that job titles are a distraction—and a divisive one at that. Whether someone is a senior sales associate or a regional vice president or the director of this department isn’t material. With few exceptions, no one but the betitled really cares.

What truly matters is whether someone is helping a customer, how someone is helping a customer, or how someone is helping a colleague help a customer. We should think of ourselves in terms of what we actually do and how we do it, not in terms of who we artificially are. We should think of our role as a verb, not as a noun.

The difference is partly a question of focus. It throws a spotlight on the actions and behaviors that give life to our mission. That's a good thing. 

It is also a subtle matter of perceived status. Lofty titles create the illusion of relative importance. They imply that certain persons in an organization are more important than others. That can only mean that the others will come to see themselves as less important. When that happens, they will naturally reduce their value to the organization and ultimately to the customer. After all, they aren’t so important.

Thus, job titles actually create distance between and among colleagues and teammates. They erode the fabric of an organization, and they undermine the value proposition. That’s silly, isn’t it? Why create distance when what we need is connection? Why let value and service decline?

I realize I am kicking a hornet’s nest on this one. Many of you think of yourselves largely in terms of your title. You worked long and hard to get your title, and you feel—well, entitled to it.

I used to think that way myself. No more. From this point forward, I am what I do.