Ego Free Leadership

by Brandon Black

  We discussed these results at our April board meeting and everybody was encouraged. As usual, the board held an executive session without the management team to discuss any concerns or questions.

  Toward the end of that session, one of the board members called me in, which was not common. He said the board was excited about what was happening and wanted to take full advantage of the opportunities ahead. They wanted me to concentrate on running the business day-today and had asked Encore’s chairman, George Lund, to support me by managing some of the administrative functions and helping drive the corporate strategy. They felt the combination of our strengths would be powerful, and that Encore would be better equipped to succeed.

  I stared blankly at him. What?!

  The board had decided to make George Encore’s executive chairman. In this new role, he would spend a significant amount of time in our offices. Paul and Sharon, along with our general counsel, would report directly to him, with a dotted line to me. I would focus primarily on Operations, Technology, and Business Development.

  In most companies, my “new” role was called chief operating officer, not chief executive officer.

  Holy shit. I was right all along. They were planning something. I just got the signals wrong. They didn’t want to fire me; they wanted me to become the COO again.

  Different friends had told me it was common for new investors to bring in their “guy.” That was George. I was crushed. The emotional roller coaster was going to kill me.

  I went home and told Dana about the decision.

  “You got demoted?” she asked.

  “The technical answer is no, but it sure seems that way.”

  “How do you feel?”

  Everything from indignant to fatalistic. I couldn’t believe this change was being made now, when the hard work of the last few years was finally paying dividends.

  “What are you going to tell the team?” she asked.

  “I haven’t even thought about it.” They would all have the same questions. I often counseled people not to “go into the wreckage of the future” because the scenarios they imagined rarely materialized. It was a waste of time to sit around and be a conspiracy theorist. Despite that, I spent the entire night coming up with thousands of nightmare scenarios and embarrassing questions that would come my way once the news became public. I couldn’t imagine a single positive outcome from this change.

  By morning, I was sure everyone at the company would judge me a failure, and the shareholders would lose respect for me. They certainly had the facts to support their case. My Encore tombstone would read: “Here lies Brandon Black, former CEO. He took over Encore with the stock at $20 per share and brought it down to $3. Good riddance.” A part of me recognized that my ego was triggered, but it was too painful to face.

  I had no time to process anything, however, because George and I were scheduled to tell the executive team about the change that day, April 29, 2009. I needed to put on a good show and be supportive. Encore was paying my bills, and I was resolved not to be destructive. That didn’t make me feel better, but it did allow me to get into the car and drive to work.

  “I want to be very clear about this,” George said to my team. “There is only one CEO at Encore and that is Brandon. I have a day job and am only here to help. It is my sincerest hope that one plus one will equal three. We’re going to have a lot of fun.”

  What else could he say? He couldn’t tell people the truth, that the board was demoting me. At least my business cards still said CEO; that would make it easier to find a new job.

  I looked around the room to gauge people’s reactions. They looked back at me, doing the same. I just smiled and nodded along with George’s points. When he was done, I told everybody how excited I was to have George help us achieve our goals. I’m not sure how well I sold it.

  There would be a press release later that day announcing the management change along with our first quarter’s earnings. I had to keep up the charade for the entire day. The painful irony was that this was the moment we proved all our doubters wrong. Our first quarter’s results were significantly higher than predicted. Cash collections were up 10 percent and earnings by 30 percent. We were deploying capital for new purchases at an increasing rate. I knew the stock market would respond favorably, and it did. By the end of the week, our stock price was above $12 per share, a 400 percent increase since the low point in February, just 60 days before. I should have been shouting from the rooftop.

  George and I met in my office after the meeting. “I thought everything went great,” said George.

  “Couldn’t agree more,” I responded. Are you kidding me? You swoop in just as we’re taking off. Where were you when we couldn’t buy anything and India was flailing? You get to walk around the office today and have a great time with the employees celebrating our success. I, on the other hand, get to explain how exciting it is to be marginalized.

  I held all my mind chatter in as we exchanged pleasantries. I couldn’t get away fast enough. As we emerged, I saw Jim Syran waiting outside my office. He wanted to grab a few seconds of my time, and I obliged. When I closed the door, he blurted out, “Dude, they just demoted you. What’s up with that?” I didn’t know what to say. This was exactly what I feared would happen.

  I spent the next few weeks fearful of additional changes to come while simultaneously generating lists in my mind of all George’s shortcomings. When nothing happened for a month, I decided to make the best of a bad situation. I wasn’t going to quit, and I assumed all the work I had done with LaL would allow me to stop reacting to George. But it didn’t. Why should he get any credit for the work I did? I knew it wasn’t productive, but I couldn’t help it—it was all true. Over the next few months, I added more flaws. I couldn’t believe how much time he spent on trivial items.

  “Why don’t we change the board package?” George asked me one day.

  “We’ve had the same package for a decade,” I responded. “It seems to work fine.”

  “I don’t like how it flows, and we don’t have the right emphasis in the beginning. Also, I think you should talk less.”

  What the hell is he talking about? We’re paying you all this money, and you’re worried about how the board package flows and how much I speak? Shouldn’t you be thinking about how to expand the company or something? On top of it all, when we were challenged about the new format in the next board meeting, I looked toward him to answer. He didn’t say a word. Par for the course.

  Board package layouts, press release language, getting new offices, feedback about how to be more sensitive to board members’ perspectives. This wasn’t elementary school. Where were the strategic revelations?

  It was glaringly clear how much better I was than him. How could the board have put him above me? But he was my boss and could fire me if he wanted. I promised Dana I would not do anything stupid. Just suck it up and play along.

  That didn’t mean I couldn’t talk about the situation outside the office. Friends, family, and anyone not affiliated with Encore got an earful. The group that heard about it the most was my Young Presidents’ Organization (YPO) Forum. Each of these individuals ran companies, so I knew they would understand the injustice. The beauty in all these discussions was that I had the ability to pick and choose what facts I felt were relevant. And because there was no way for anybody to have enough context to question my assessment, I was able to build my own personal support group. I was a great martyr.

  When I had time alone, however, I found myself feeling unsettled and wondering if there was more to this than I was willing to acknowledge. Intellectually, I knew I was at the mercy of George and the situation. I thought that would have been enough to push me to act differently, to not fall back into my counterproductive behaviors. But I was doing exactly the opposite. It was almost like I couldn’t help myself.

  SHAYNE

  The seemingly unjust and unjustified appointment of George Lund to executive chairman in 2009 infected Brandon’s work
experience. He was sure he was being displaced, and nothing George said to the contrary could convince him otherwise. Meanwhile, Encore’s performance continued to improve, justifying Brandon’s resistance to the new setup. However aware Brandon was of his triggers, he was unable to exit his prolonged state of pinch. In coaching calls, Brandon overwhelmed my attempts at finding a different perspective with stories of George’s latest outrageous transgressions. This was Brandon’s reality.

  Brandon identified the ego threats of being trivialized, no longer respected, and judged a failure. Like most of the examples we’ve explored in previous chapters, these self-worth anxieties stemmed from the part of his egosystem that wanted to protect him from harm, humiliation, and discomfort—his “defensive ego.” But George’s role also threatened Brandon’s self-image of success. Remember, he grew up with the drive to be #1. He thrived on having the right answer, being the smartest person in the room, and seeking the high of feeling admired, even revered. This was his “offensive ego.” Brandon was being triggered from both sides.

  Our egosystem isn’t governed just by fear. As people and leaders, we want acknowledgment, recognition, and success. We yearn to be the go-to person, the ultimate visionary offering the missing insight. We want others to need us, to look up to us, to accept us. When we know the answer or deliver the impossible, we feel worthy, powerful, superior. We glow with assurance, and reassurance, that we really are as amazing as we dreamed. This is our offensive ego in action—striving not to avoid judgment but to gain status.

  Although uncomfortable, it is nonetheless easier to focus on the fear-based emotions of our defensive ego, because they’re more recognizable and in line with our values. We’re the ones being hurt or judged, so we’re in the “good” role. As the victim, we feel justified lashing out. The offensive ego, on the other hand, isn’t humble or generous. It knows it’s right. It greedily wants to be the smartest, the strongest, the most competent. To shine over others. If you recognize this in yourself, you’re in good company; it’s a common tendency at all levels of leadership. If your mind is insisting, “I’m not like that!” well, that’s your ego talking.

  This aggressive desire to prove ourselves comes in many forms. It keeps us late at the office, drives feelings of comparison with others, and can trigger our most destructive interpersonal behaviors. As Steve Macadam, the CEO of a global diversified manufacturing company, once remarked, “I always prided myself on mentoring and growing my team. And then I discovered that my need to be the smartest person in the room was preventing me from letting anyone have a better idea than me. I was actually holding people back despite my professed desire to unleash their full potential.”

  Another frequently seen offensive ego leadership dysfunction is the hero syndrome, where a leader thrives on saving the day: resurrecting a project in crisis, or turning around a failing organization. I understand. The feeling of being indispensable and uber-competent while others struggle is candy-heroin for our egosystem. Plus, our environments often reinforce these behaviors by giving more recognition for solving a crisis than for preventing one. We glorify tales of individuals making a superhuman effort, not of teams methodically building the foundation for tomorrow’s success. Not coincidentally, the “hero” leader often shoots from the hip, rarely finding time to mentor people or build processes. The frantic activity of this reactive leadership dysfunction creates the crises we’ll have to fix tomorrow. We’re “pyromaniac firemen.”

  By the time George was made executive chairman, Brandon had been working for some time to let go of his offensive ego desires. “After several years of poor executive hires,” Brandon explained, “I realized that my need to be admired prevented me from actually hiring people who were better or more competent than me.”

  But letting go of an ego driver is different from having it blown up by surprise against our will. George’s appointment threatened Brandon’s semiconscious craving to be revered. Since the ego sees the world through a zero-sum lens, his relentless judgment of George aimed to preserve Brandon’s primacy.

  This is among the greatest costs of our offensive ego: Our insatiable need for acknowledgment causes us to knock others down. We exert power over people and groups not because we are evil, but because our ego believes we’ll be adored or untouchable if we’re on top. Our ego-system has mistaken admiration for love, without realizing it won’t ever satisfy us.

  Luckily, there’s a way out of this prison.

  Taking Back Our Creative Power

  BRANDON

  During a coaching call in August 2009, I was updating Shayne on how things were going: Everything was great except for George. He had missed a call earlier that day, which reinforced my beliefs about his lack of commitment. I was tired of being jerked around by his unpredictable schedule. We had some important decisions to make, and I didn’t want to keep pushing them back. But he was my boss and I couldn’t force him to do anything.

  “How would you interact with George if the roles were reversed?” asked Shayne. “What if he worked for you?”

  “Are we playing a hypothetical game?” I responded. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Your frustrations are making you give up your power and sense of direction, but you’re the one here for the long term. You are the CEO, and Encore is your company. If George worked for you, you’d want to get the most out of him, wouldn’t you?”

  “I would.”

  “So if George worked for you, what skills would you leverage from him?”

  I hadn’t spent much time thinking about his strengths, so I said what came to mind.

  “Well, he is an excellent relationship builder, especially when it comes to the board. He is a good negotiator. In fact, without him we wouldn’t have resolved a massive dispute we had with another company. He reads people well and seems to know what questions to ask around strategic opportunities.”

  “So, he does have positive qualities that are valuable to Encore. Given how quickly you came up with those, there are probably others you would identify if you approached the relationship differently.” Shayne paused. “What has George done to suggest he is trying to take over your job?”

  “Besides the long list I already gave you?” I responded sarcastically. I did not want to see George in a positive light. “Have you been paying attention at all?”

  He laughed. “I haven’t yet heard a fact that supports your fear that George wants to be CEO. Most of the time, you’re complaining he’s too hands-off. So which is it?

  “I think this is more about you having to be the best CEO,” Shayne continued. “Think about how you engage the difficult personalities on your team. You’ve really learned to see past their flaws and draw out their strengths—except with George. That can’t be a coincidence. Maybe he does some things better than you? If you’re serious about making the most of his strengths for Encore’s benefit, take a learning intention in your next few meetings with him. What could it hurt?”

  “It’ll be a waste of time,” I said as we hung up.

  I spent the next few days trying to prove Shayne wrong, but there wasn’t any evidence. Neither the board nor George had done anything to undermine my credibility. The data didn’t support my hypothesis. There had to be another reason for my attitude and actions. Until I understood it, I knew I wouldn’t be able to shift my behavior. But I was tired of looking in the mirror; I just couldn’t seem to summon up the effort.

  I was walking the floor the next day, saying hello to different account managers, when I remembered a promise I had made during the layoffs back in 2007. With 1,000 employees and their families counting on me, I had committed to make the right decision for Encore, no matter how uncomfortable it was for my ego. Since then, that number had almost doubled. It is not acceptable to let my ego run the show. Remembering that decision gave me the fortitude to interrogate my fears.

  I talked my difficulty over with Dana and then with Paul, who had become a close friend I trusted without reservation. Instead of
griping about George, I focused our conversations on my behaviors. He remembered something I told him after returning from a seminar; that my unconscious, ego-fueled goal was to be publicly recognized as a great leader. Maybe George’s presence threatened that?

  Something rang true in his inquiry. I knew my ego competed to be #1, and George’s new role moved me squarely into the #2 position. But his insertion into Encore threatened something even more important: my ability to view myself as a success. I had built an amazing team that was doing incredible things. We were on the cusp of producing fabulous results. Finally, people would notice and see me as a great leader, not a quitter. Deep down, I really wanted to get the credit for Encore’s success, and George’s presence was robbing me of that. I had been making him pay, but in doing so I was undermining him and his potential contribution, putting Encore’s goals and employees at risk.

  It was a powerful moment of clarity. I actually felt different. My head felt lighter, and my pent-up aggravation with George ebbed. Without knowing it, I had become the star in my own reality television series. These months of drama were self-inflicted. I resolved to learn from George and not compete with him. To do so, I needed a mantra. He isn’t here to take my job. He’s doing whatever he can to help Encore move forward.

  For the next few months, I had good days with George and bad days. The good days occurred when I took the time to consider other possibilities for his actions. When he needed to reschedule something, I reminded myself that he had significant responsibilities as the CEO of another company. It wasn’t automatically a lack of commitment to Encore. As new strategic opportunities emerged, I began to seek George out for guidance on how to approach them, including asking him to participate from the beginning. He had handled many acquisitions throughout his career, while Encore had done only one. The more I was proactive and open to his input, the more quickly my judgments subsided, and the more invaluable his experience became.