Professionalism ≠ The Absence of Conflict

Consider:

***your client is six months past due on a $68,000 invoice

***your colleague consistently fails to meet important deadlines on your important project

***your supplier has regularly provided irregular sizes of your most popular women’s dresses

You’ve really tried to show up as a professional would, but unfortunately others around you haven’t. Your client, colleague, and supplier need to get their act together.  It happens.

Being a professional doesn’t mean smoothing over important issues.  It doesn’t mean glad-handing people who should be ‘upping their game’.  Most importantly, it doesn’t mean the absence of conflict.

Professionals get results (Mind-Set #1).  That means getting the invoice paid, helping get your colleague back on track, and having your supplier dramatically improve their quality control.

Sometimes these types of situations require confronting people or handling situations that aren’t a lot of fun.  Sometimes that creates conflict.  Doing so doesn’t make you unprofessional.

For most of us, getting results usually involves having crucial conversations that involve conflict.  It comes with the territory.  It’s OK, as long as the conflict is handled professionally.  Respect is the key.  Conflict, when it’s handled respectfully, is rarely experienced as unprofessional.

Sometimes it’s tricky to maintain professional decorum when the individual is someone who hasn’t necessarily earned your respect—like the three people illustrated in the examples at the beginning of this post.

It’s easy to be respectful to someone who has earned your respect. Not so, for someone who hasn’t.  Yet, it’s still important to be respecting.  The key to creating and maintaining professional decorum is to be respecting when it’s difficult to be respectful.  To learn more about the difference between the two, see chapter eleven in The Power of Professionalism.

Bottom line:  professionalism shouldn’t be characterized (in whole or in part) by the absence of conflict; rather professionalism often gets defined by how conflict (inevitable as it is) gets handled.

The Chicken Coop

I recently had occasion to spend some time with Ken Behring.  Ken is an American success story— having transcended his humble beginnings in Wisconsin to become one of the nation’s wealthiest men.    The vast majority of Ken’s wealth was generated from real estate development, although he started out in Wisconsin (in large part) as a car dealer.

Ken’s public profile increased dramatically after he became majority owner of the Seattle Seahawks—perhaps that’s how you know of him.  Behring has since sold the team and has found a new passion—philanthropy. His philanthropic work is both impressive and inspiring.

Ken’s philanthropy has been enabled by his impressive business success. That success (no surprise) is a by-product of hard work and determination.

Ken tells of the time many years ago, while in his twenties, he needed an office for his first car dealership.  Low on resources, he got creative.  He decided to buy a farmer’s chicken coop and renovate it.  Yes, you heard right—his first office was a renovated chicken coop.

The chicken coop stunk to high heaven! Behring spent days scraping caked manure from every nook-and-cranny of the chicken coop.  It wasn’t a pretty sight.  The clean-up was a horrible job—one Ken later said he’d never do for anyone else.  Endless coats of paint, some linoleum on the floor, a few electrical fixtures and voila’ …a new office is revealed.

What drove him, Ken noted, was “the vision of what the coop would become”.   Of course, the coop was a means to an end.  By age 27 Ken had a million dollars in assets—an especially impressive feat in 1955.

Ken was all about results (mind-set #1).  When a chicken coop was called for…he got it done.

The thing that often separates us getting the result we desire are chicken coops—those things that are needful but distasteful.  What are your chicken coops?  Hiring a marketing specialist because you’ve proven you’re no good at it? Going the extra mile to make your new product release ‘just so’?  Forging a  business relationship with someone you dislike (but trust) whose talents are especially important to your company’s mission?

They’re ‘out there’—chicken coops that is!   The question is—will you built ‘em?

Higher-Education Embracing The Power of Professionalism

We’ve been pleasantly surprised by the reaction to The Power of Professionalism within higher-education.  We’re aware of several business schools/professors who are using the book in their curriculum. We suspect there are others, but we’re simply unaware.  For those of you within higher-education that are using the book that I haven’t yet spoken to, please drop me a line–I’d love to hear from you.  For those within higher-education who would like to learn more, I’d love to hear from you too.

Fixing Our Broken Government–Optimism To Mitigate An Otherwise Sobering 4th

Earlier today I received an e-mail from Geoff Smart, Chairman and CEO of ghSMART & Company.  Geoff’s firm is a renowned management assessment firm for CEO’s and investors.  His wonderful book Who is a classic on hiring ‘A’ players—it became a NY Times best seller.    

Geoff was writing to announce his new book Leadocracy.  It was a pleasant surprise.  The book was written, in part, because of Geoff’s hope (in some small way) of ‘fixing’ our broken government.

I couldn’t help but think back to my own book The Power of Professionalism (which Geoff happened to have endorsed) which had as a sub-plot getting our country back on track.  In other words, Geoff and I shared a similar concern about the health of the country and had dedicated significant aspects of an otherwise traditional business book to the nation’s health.

Yes folks, the United States has some serious issues—and they’re pretty sobering. On the verge of July 4th, my hopes are still high for the nation.

The answer, in part, is to expect elected officials to be professionals who happen to be politicians, not professional politicians.

Happy 4th everyone!

 

Expert ≠ Professional

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.

Success Breeds Self-Importance Amongst MBA’s

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.

Does ‘Being A Professional’ Matter To Young Business 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.

 

 

Youth Is Served – The Finest Professionals Can Offer

The Julian Krinsky Group is a prestigious sports and educational entity that serves more than 4,000 young people each year through leading-edge summer programs.  Based in King of Prussia, Pennsylvania, the Group serves families from all over the world.  Their standards are high—really high! Their aim is to deliver the very finest, most innovative, learning experiences possible.

The staff is young—typically those in their early 20’s. Delivering such high quality programs through a young staff is no easy task. Tina Krinsky, Chief Visionary Officer of the Group, found the mind-set material “the perfect inspiration for my dozen different orientation speeches that I give to over 400 staff from all over the world.”

Of course, Tina wanted to instill within the staff the standards of excellence that was expected of them.  But more importantly, she told the staff that she considered each and every one of them a professional—- certainly a contrarian notion when one considers their young age. Yet she noted, “we deliver the finest, most professional, learning experiences for young people in the world. Only you as professionals can ensure that happens. I have every confidence you will do exactly that.” They do.

Tina sees in those young staffers what they can’t immediately see in themselves. By the end of each  summer, staffers grow just as much as their young students do. They grow—not because they are trying to do something—but because they are attempting to be something.