Here’s a link to Bellwether magazine’s 3rd quarter 2012 edition. It contains my article ‘Culture As Strategy’ (see pages 6 & 7). Check it out.
Here’s a link to Bellwether magazine’s 3rd quarter 2012 edition. It contains my article ‘Culture As Strategy’ (see pages 6 & 7). Check it out.
Want to stir people up? Get them talking about the group projects they worked on (or are working on) while in business school! You’ll likely hear comments like:
***”Boy oh boy, that Judy was a piece of work! She never ever carried her portion of the load.”
***”I got so sick of Tony, he was so full of himself.”
***”Once, just once, I wish Audrey would have something of substance to share.”
There are lots of reasons for the frustration (e.g. lack of established processes, misunderstandings, inexperience, conflicting cultural norms, etc) but most of the comments you’ll likely hear about center on faulty interpersonal dynamics.
Take, for instance, the marketing project that a fellow student (let’s call him John) hijacked when I was in grad school. Turns out, John was an expert marketer. Plus, he was an impressive guy. Trouble was, he hijacked the project. There were five people on the team, but practically speaking, there was only one brain. And there was only one way—John’s.
John didn’t really learn anything, he merely executed what he already knew. The only thing the four others on the so-called team got was a big dose of frustration—as their potential learning experience had been wasted.
Oh sure, the project received kudo’s from the professor (who was unaware of what had transpired). And , of course, John received the acclaim he had hoped for. Plus, every member of the group received impressive grades. Still, this begs the question, “in this instance did John (the expert) conduct himself as a profession would?” (to ensure clarity and intent, note that I’m not asking if John was unprofessional.)
For my money, the answer is no—John didn’t conduct himself as a professional would. Despite the appearance of a positive outcome for the project, it was really a failure. No one really learned anything—which, after all, was the purpose of the exercise. And the project wasn’t intended to act as a platform for any one individual’s ego.
John’s colleagues felt that John was out for John. From that point forward, they distrusted him. This isn’t surprising as John had violated four mind-sets (#’s 1, 2, 6 and 7).
As we advocate in The Power of Professionalism (page 41) technical competence is important. But technical competence, even when demonstrated by someone considered ‘expert’, doesn’t automatically equate to ‘professional’. That’s just as true in the workplace as it is in business school study groups.
Several years ago I was asked to assist with the much-anticipated kick-off of the Eller Business School’s program orientation for incoming MBA’s at the University of Arizona. The incoming MBA’s were (as my mother would say) ‘bright-eyed and bushy-tailed’—eagerly looking forward to the coursework, special projects, and overseas study abroad opportunities that their forthcoming educational experience promised.
The beginning of the school year hadn’t even officially started yet, but the MBA’s had already been assigned a group project and numerous case-studies to read in anticipation of the program’s kick-off. The group project was to develop a business plan for a phantom new company that the students would devise. Six project teams competed during the kick-off. I was a judge.
Each teams’ presentation was impressive. I quickly concluded that the students, indeed, were amongst the best and the brightest. As judges we were hard pressed to determine a clear winner of the competition—as each team did such an outstanding job.
During the competitions debrief I asked each team member the following question, “what percentage of the team’s overall success would you attribute to your own personal contribution?” Each team member anonymously marked a number of their choosing on an index card and returned the cards to me. In theory, one might expect that the percentage total from each team would approximate 100% plus or minus (maybe) 15 or 20%.
As part of my hour-long keynote later that afternoon I gave the students the results. The average percentage total from the six teams was 165%. The low was 120%, the high was 230%. More than a couple individuals rated their personal contribution at over 50%. (And they were working within a team of six people!)
What can we conclude from this?
It means that virtually every team member had over-stated their own importance—a few by a little, most by a lot! Surprised? You shouldn’t be! As my colleague friend Marshall Goldsmith has noted, “We have a strong bias to remember events in a light most favorable to us.” I’ve conducted this same exercise with senior execs and blue collar workers alike and the results closely mirror the MBA’s.
When we over-state our own importance, what we’re really saying is, “you’re really lucky to have me”. However subtle that’s conveyed, it’s an unattractive message. Even if the group is performing adequately, it typically shows that people’s focus is on “me”, not “we”.
Confidence is an attractive trait, but excessive self-importance isn’t. You’ll know that the situation is improving when people speak more of “we” experiences, instead of “me” experiences. That’s true for senior execs as well as starry-eyed MBA students.
Is ‘being a professional’ something today’s young business students care about? Do they aspire to become one?
These are questions I’ve recently been asking myself. Certainly, I’d like to think the answer is ‘yes’, but hoping doesn’t make it so.
It’s been suggested to me that when some young people think ‘professional’ they think: stuffy corporate types in white shirts…and they don’t want any part of it. There’s probably some truth to that, but my hope is that that point-of-view has a limited following.
I suspect that professionalism has not been fully appreciated–let alone understood well–by many of our young people.
In The Power of Professionalism I advance the premise that being a professional has little to do with the color of one’s collar. In other words, being a professional is an equal opportunity aspiration. Your education, your pedigree, your so-called profession, the letters that may follow your name have little to do whether you’re considered by others to be a professional or not.
In short: being a professional isn’t about what we do, it’s about how we do it.
My experience tells me that the being considered a consummate professional is perhaps the greatest compliment any one of us can receive in the workplace —at least for people over thirty.
But what about for younger people—particularly younger business students? Is ‘professional’ something they aspire to? Young people, weigh in!
NOTE: We’d like as many young people to weigh-in on this question as possible, please share freely amongst the young people you know.
Have you ever…
***shared with your teenager your concerns about the perils of under-age drinking and driving?
***expressed your outrage to the check-out clerk about the skyrocketing cost of groceries?
***complained to your neighbor about how the country is going to hell?
And how many times have you gotten “I know” as a response?
“I know” is often code for ‘I don’t want to hear it.’ It’s largely a polite response, but one that doesn’t necessarily imply agreement. Maybe the person is uncomfortable with the subject or maybe they’re tired of your rants or maybe their response has been triggered by something else entirely.
The person isn’t saying ‘shut up’…isn’t telling you to ‘go away!’ — but sometimes that’s what they’re thinking. The person wants to change the subject or change their circumstance (e.g. like ditching you).
Of course this plays out in the workplace too.
***Your boss says “I know” the moment you open your mouth about why project XX should be an organizational priority.
***Your colleague says “I know” at the end of your explanation for the rational you used in hiring the non-traditional candidate who turned out to be an all-star.
***Your assistant says “I know” as you recite some arcane of piece of information you gleaned off the internet earlier that morning.
Each of these people is basically saying, “let’s move on…what you’re saying isn’t registering.”
Your boss is already convinced about the need for project XX, she wants to talk about ‘how’ the project moves forward. Your colleague is annoyed by your self-aggrandizement after hearing you tell the same hiring story (along with the implication of how clever you were) far too many times to count. And your assistant is basically telling you, “tell me something meaningful I don’t know”.
“I know” is code. It’s important to know the code!
What can we learn from this? When you hear “I know” it should tell you that you’re probably not getting through to the other person. In other words, you’re probably not having an impact with them.
To regain your interpersonal footing (and often credibility), you’ll need to shift gears. That might mean tuning in to the unspoken needs of the other party. Other times it means turning down our own rhetoric or asking more questions or just being a better listener. Or a million other things….
It’s true that an “I know” response may be prompted by the other person’s ‘stuff’ (i.e. their boredom, their impatience, their uneasiness, their sense of superiority, or a host of other factors). In the end, it doesn’t matter…because, regardless of the reason, you’re still not having an impact.
That said, if you’re on the receiving end of an “I know” response too often, you’re likely doing something that’s prompting it. The desire to change that situation starts with mind-set #3 (things get better when I do). From there, you’ve got to figure out what it is you need to change to get a different response. Our next post will share some helps.
An employee purposely slows down their productivity or begins to under perform relative to their colleagues. That seems inconsistent with mind-set #1 (having a bias for results) and mind-set #2 (being a part of something bigger than oneself), right?
Well, no. At least if you’re in China!
In China the group trumps the individual. Anyone who attempts to elevate themselves over the collective interests of the group will likely be ostracized by the group. In other words, the Western model of the rugged individual (and the gold stars that are earned through the accomplishment of outlandish performance standards) doesn’t translate well in some Eastern cultures. In other words, in China it doesn’t pay to try to stand out.
Thus in China the individual who has unintentionally ‘one-upped’ the group will naturally be inclined to conform to the performance norm of the group. And–to be clear–the norm of that group may reflect a very high level of performance. That’s why someone in China who throttles back their production for the reasons we’ve illustrated may very well hold dear both mind-sets #1 and #2.
The point is perhaps obvious. The two mind-sets we’ve illustrated here are just as valid in China as they are in the U.S. Yet, because of the difference in cultures, they take different forms. One isn’t right, the other wrong–they’re just different. The difference in cultures can be as dramatic as two differing nationalities or as subtle as two corporate subsidiaries that have the same corporate parent.
That’s important for all of us to remember–whether one works in China or just down the street.
Note: This post was inspired by a terrific article by Sylvia Vorhauser-Smith in the May 2012 edition of Talent Management magazine.
In today’s workplace many feel that the pendulum swings too far in the company’s favor when it comes to accrued benefits. Simply put, many believe that the average employee exists merely for the pleasure and benefit for the organization.
Whether these beliefs are grounded in reality really isn’t the point. The point is to recognize there’s a certain level of cynicism out there.
It doesn’t take a rocket-scientist to figure out that when people feel that they’re viewed as a means to an end they’ll be far more likely to be less engaged.
Showing greater levels of respect to employees is a way to avoid this pitfall. People want to feel valued—one that is reflective of a professional work environment.
At E. W. Scripps, a long-standing media company of some significance, they’ve ceased using the term ‘talent management’—a program that Scripps feels is integral to their success. Instead, Scripps now uses the term ‘career management’. This change was made to put the emphasis on the employee, not the company. The change isn’t window dressing, it’s substantive.
Scripps worked hard in enabling employees to realize honest-to-goodness value from this ‘career management’ approach. The employee drives it, managers and HR support it. The approach enables people to paint themselves into the picture.
When people feel like they’re integral to the success of the company good things happen. This is precisely why we advocated in The Power of Professionalism that culture should be centered around an organization’s professionals. An organization that has as its focus a ‘culture of accountability’ runs the risk that the employee sees themselves as a pawn for the organization’s pleasure.
Instead, an organization that has as its focus a ‘culture of professionals committed to accountability’ is far more likely to be engaging to employees in much the same way that the Scripps approach did. Chapter thirteen in The Power of Professionalism outlines this approach in greater detail.
Many years ago, while still in the corporate world, I was hiring for a key position within my department from a pool of internal candidates. Two finalists emerged. One was an up-and-comer; the other was seasoned. Both had unique strengths.
I hired the up-and-comer. …but it wasn’t without a lot of consternation.
Turns out, the seasoned candidate (let’s call him Rory) had lost his former position as a result of a downsizing. Rory could post for any internal position he wished, but was given a time limit to make his transition. If, after a pre-determined number of months, Rory failed to land a job—he’d be let go.
It was the 11th hour when Rory interviewed with me. Rory wanted to be hired on merit, although we both knew that if I didn’t hire him his stellar career with that company would be over.
Naturally, I was torn. It wasn’t a decision I took lightly. In the end, I didn’t hire Rory–as the other candidate was a better fit for our department’s needs at the time. Even though I felt good about doing what I thought was the right thing for the organization, I agonized over making that phone call to Rory.
Despite being disappointed about not being chosen, Rory was gracious beyond words. A normally tension-filled call was made almost pleasurable by how he conducted himself. To say I was impressed is an understatement. A year after leaving the company, Rory called me to re-connect. He had made a successful transition to another organization—one he was flourishing in. We have subsequently stayed in touch.
How many times have you heard about these types of situations going ‘south’? I know I’ve heard of far too many! Given the stakes involved, it’s no wonder why.
It was Rory’s professionalism that helped turn a potentially contentious situation into a really positive one. He really stood out. In that situation, Rory demonstrated mastery of his emotions. Plus, he didn’t let his ego undermine him in a highly stressful situation. Of course, all of this is consistent with mind-set #6—a mind-set that most people struggle with.
Think about the people you consider to be a consummate professional. I’ll bet they rate high on mind-set #6. They’re likely to take a measured approach to stressful situations; and not be prone to uncontrolled emotional outbursts. The types of professionals remain in control, never letting their ‘lizard brain’ take charge. When they do express deep emotion, it’s a conscious choice—not a shrill, often automatic response, that they might regret later.
In many ways, mind-set #six is a hallmark of the consummate professional. It’s precisely why I admire Rory so much.
Each organization, each culture, each leader typically uses some form of ‘code’ when communicating. It’s important to know the ‘code’ you’re constantly exposed to.
A business leader says, “we’re not doing so well. In the meantime, keep doing what you’re doing.”
That’s code for: “hold on while the smart people figure this out.”
Granted, that’s not terribly inspiring—but at least you know the code. At least you’ll know what you’re up against.
We’ve recently added a new category ‘Do You Know The Code’ to this blog. This post, as well as those in the future on this same topic, will be archived there.
If you have examples of ‘code’…please share them…we can all benefit from them.
My colleague-friend Bill Tomei provided me with great insight and perspective that has helped shape this post. Thanks Bill.
Myth #1—Blue-collar workers are ‘less than’ than their management brethren.
‘Less-sophisticated’…’less-responsible’…’less-committed’ …these are three of many inaccurate perceptions held about blue-collar workers. These perceptions are unfortunate—because they’re typically turn out to be self-fulfilling prophesies. The vast majority of blue-collar workers are intelligent, capable, and responsible.
Myth #2—The core values of blue-collar workers are vastly different than those in management.
People are people. Blue-collar workers want many of the same types of things everyone else wants in their work-life—-competence in a field that they can continue to excel in, work that holds meaning, respect, etc. There are few major differences in values between blue-collar workers and ‘management types’.
Myth #3—Blue-collar workers are either unable or are unwilling to understand (let alone accept) the truth about the business.
This perception is particularly troublesome—largely because it suggests that blue-collar workers are somehow incapable of understanding the (so- called) complexities of the business. That’s disrespectful on any number of levels. Through various applications of self-management ,any number of companies have shown the fallacy of this perception.
Myth #4—Blue-collar workers’ self- interests will always take precedent over the interest of the business.
The implication is that blue-collar workers are just in it for the pay check. This hasn’t been my experience nor the experience of my colleagues. There endless numbers of examples that put a stake in the heart of this myth.
Myth #5—Blue-collar workers will lose respect for management if managers don’t have all the answers.
This is a common misconception. A manager being unaware of something is OK (assuming ‘being unaware’ hasn’t become a pattern) as long as the situation is looked into and communicated back to the troops.
A manager who, when faced with a serious issue ,says to the troops “I don’t have all the answers” will not be disrespected by the troops as long as that same manager also commits to finding a solution to the issue. Blue-collar workers (at least reasonable ones) aren’t expecting their manager to be Superman.
Myth #6—The risks associated with blue-collar workers too-frequently out-weigh the benefits.
In many ways, the United States was built by working people—what we might refer to today as blue-collar employees. It’s a disservice to hold the mind-set that the glass is half-empty when it comes to blue-collar folks.
Myth #7—Blue-collar workers aren’t really professionals.
Sorry, I don’t buy it. Being a professional is an equal opportunity aspiration. This myth is de-bunked in chapter two of The Power of Professionalism. As I mention in the book, “being a professional has little to do with the color of one’s collar”.
There are a lot of misconceptions about blue-collar workers. That’s really unfortunate—especially since companies like Morning Star, the Contra Costa Times, and (at one time) Saturn have demonstrated first-hand (through various self-managed practices) just what a fallacy these myths are.
It’s been said that, “how we see the problem, is the problem.” For those holding any of these myths, that couldn’t be more true.