by Prakash Iyer
A former Indian CEO has several achievements to his credit: Building the sales system for one of India’s largest fast-moving consumer goods companies. Driving its government relationship agenda at a time when government policy significantly hindered MNCs and their businesses in India. And building and leading one of the most passionate sales organizations in an extremely competitive environment. And yet, he is often best remembered for his role in a crisis several years ago. When an entire team of tea plantation executives and their families were held hostage by ultras in Assam, he personally took charge, and against all odds, engineered to airlift the entire group of employees and their families to safety—overnight. Now that’s leadership.
Good to remember these leadership lessons. When the chips are down, true leaders don’t hide. They stand up and fight. Thanks Anil, for some fine bowling. For some great leadership. And for showing tremendous character. You’ve meant more to a nation than we’ll ever acknowledge.
As a wise man once said, ‘For when that great Scorer puts down your name, he doesn’t see whether you won or lost—but how you played the game!’
When the chips are down, true leaders don’t hide. They stand up and fight. Keep your chin up even if your jaw is broken.
Get into the
One-degree-more Habit
Everybody knows that at 99 ºC, water is hot. Very hot.
And we also know that at 100 ºC, water begins to boil. And becomes steam. And steam is powerful enough to move a trainload of people. Think about it. Just one degree more—and hot water becomes powerful enough to move a locomotive.
While we may not always realize it, our lives are like that too. One degree means a lot. That little extra effort can mean the difference between being a winner and an also-ran. The difference between achieving your goals and missing them. The difference between being just hot water and being able to move a train.
Too often, we give up when the goal might have been just one step away. We finish second, when just one degree more of effort could have meant a world of difference. Unfortunately, we don’t have the benefit of a thermometer that can tell us to keep going—for just one degree more. Whatever it is you set out to do, whatever goal you seek to achieve, push yourself to do just a little bit more. Just one degree more. And more often than not, that ‘one-degree-more’ attitude will mean huge successes in your life.
And just like the difference between being hot water and moving a train, the rewards in life too are disproportionate. Often a fraction of a second can mean the difference between an unforgettable Olympic gold winner and an also-ran. You can lose a five-setter Wimbledon final by a whisker—and find that you earn only half the prize money and none of the honour associated with being a Grand Slam champion. Life is tough. One degree makes a world of a difference.
The next time you feel you’ve done your bit, or you feel like giving up, stretch yourself. For just one degree more. The difference can be magical. Successful people do all that is expected of them. And then, they do a little bit more.
Make that extra effort. And watch the magic begin!
Get into the ‘one–degree-more’ habit. The habit of winners. Do all that is expected. And then a little bit more.
IV
WINNER’S MINDSETS
The Power of Positive Expectations
Have you heard of how a group of people decided to set up a Pessimists’ Society in London? It was a trendsetting idea, and all the pessimists in the neighbourhood agreed to meet the following Sunday to set up the association. But when the appointed day came, nobody turned up for the meeting. Apparently, they all felt that it just wouldn’t work. Ahem!
As negative feelings go, it’s widely accepted that pessimism pretty much tops the charts. What is not quite as well accepted is the power of optimism. The power of positive expectations.
While you may have your reservations about The Secret type of ‘If you think you will get a parking slot near the supermarket, you surely will’ assurances, there is evidence to suggest that positive expectations have a powerful impact on outcomes. Have positive expectations—and get positive results! As the following story shows, there may be a powerful lesson in this for all of us.
In an experiment in a school in Texas, USA, the principal came up with a brilliant plan to ensure outstanding results for his school. The top thirty students in Grade 7 were handpicked and put into a class under the supervision of the top three teachers in the school. The objective: to train the students to top the state examination and bring glory to the school.
The teachers got to work in right earnest. Delighted to be selected as the top three in the school, they worked extra hard on their brilliant students. Projects upon projects were assigned, extra classes were held over weekends and the teachers were delighted to help the students individually, to help them ace the state-level examination.
The kids too were enthused. They would quite happily agree to skip the odd baseball game in favour of maths class. Their parents were thrilled to see their wards being selected. Family holidays were postponed to ensure that the kids didn’t miss a day of school. The parents took extra care to follow up on homework and assignments. At the end of the year, when the results were declared, it was found that the batch of thirty students had in fact done outstandingly well, ranking in the top percentile of the state’s schoolchildren.
A visibly delighted school principal called the three teachers and congratulated them on their achievement. The teachers were rather self-effacing, preferring to attribute their success to the fabulously talented kids and their diligence. ‘It was such a pleasure teaching such exceptionally bright kids!’ they concurred.
Then the principal revealed the secret. These kids were NOT exceptional. Not the brightest of the lot. Not by a mile. They were just thirty kids picked at random from across the three divisions and handed over to the three teachers.
The teachers were taken aback but were quick to rationalize—after all, THEY were the three best teachers. They had obviously worked their magic. ‘Well, not quite,’ revealed the principal. ‘I just put all the teachers’ names into a hat and pulled out three. And you happened to be those three!’
So what really happened? With thirty average students and three randomly picked teachers, how was the school able to deliver outstanding results? The answer: the power of positive expectations!
The teachers, sensing their special status and the expectations from them, worked extra hard. Longer hours. Better preparation. More projects. They saw sparks of genius in their students, and worked harder to help them shine brighter. And the students, delighted to be hand-picked, slogged harder, made sacrifices and willed themselves to rise to their potential. And the environment—their parents, the school—helped them along.
There’s a message here for all of us. As parents. As team leaders. As humans.
Expect more. Expect good things to happen from your team, your spouse, your kids, your world. And you will find them willing themselves to deliver on those positive expectations. Also, don’t keep those expectations secret. Share them. Talk about your positive expectations. Let the world know. Don’t let the fear of failure—the fear of what if—stop you in your tracks.
Expectations have the power of making reality fit in. Tell your child he is clumsy, careless, always dropping stuff … And guess what? He will live up to your expectations. Every time he drops something, he will tell himself ‘that’s me’ or ‘can’t help it, I’m like that’! And later, he’ll probably rationalize that ‘My parents always told me I was clumsy. They were real quick to spot that in me!’
On the other hand, you can tell him he’s really smart, and destined to do well. And then watch him work extra hard to solve those tricky algebra sums. ‘I can do it. My dad always tells me I am smart. Maybe I just need to practise harder.’ And the harder he practises, well, the smarter he gets.
At work too, the power of positive expectations holds good. Expect your team to do well, and watch them go the extra
mile to ensure they don’t let you down. So the choice is yours really. Expect good things. And watch it come true. Else, of course, feel free to expect failure. Like many people do.
And like them, you can always say ‘I told you so.’
Expect more, get more. Expect failure. And get that too.
Who Stole My Cookies?
It happened one day at Chicago’s O’Hare airport.
A young lady was waiting in the departure lounge for the boarding announcement of her delayed flight. It was a Friday evening, and she was looking forward to getting home, and to the dinner date with her boyfriend. Just a wee bit impatient with the delay, she walked across to a kiosk and bought herself a pack of her favourite cookies—almond and raisin specials!
Spotting a seat adjacent to a convenient table-like space, she quickly settled in and pulled out her laptop, hoping to finish the presentation she had been working on. She took one bite of the cookie, then another … the cookie was quickly gone! As she reached out for a second cookie, she was taken aback to find that the man on the next seat was helping himself to one too, without even the courtesy of ‘May I please …’!
What a weird man, she thought to herself, biting into another cookie. She tried to focus on her work but was quickly distracted by the sight of that shirt sleeve reaching out yet again and grabbing another cookie!
Was he being friendly? Was he being a bully? Was he a thief? A million angry thoughts crossed her mind, and she was tempted to pull the pack of cookies away and give a piece of her mind to the man. She held herself back but only just. She threw him one of those glazed looks that seemed to combine scorn, anger and disgust. The man only smiled.
And this went on. She’d take a cookie, and so would he. Until it was down to the last cookie. As she eyed it, the man quickly grabbed it, split it into two and gave her a half. She took the cookie and was about to stand up, yell and create a scene when she heard the announcement of her flight being ready for departure. She got up, grabbed her bags and headed off towards the boarding gate, still angry, very angry with the man who stole her cookies.
She got into the aircraft, found her way to her window seat and to get her mind off the wretched guy, she decided to immerse herself in a book. ‘Better to lose myself in a world of make-believe rather than think of real-world demons!’ And she reached into her handbag to pull out her reading glasses …
Guess what she found in her handbag? Her pack of cookies. The almond-and-raisin specials! ‘Oh no!’ she sighed.
Those two words escaped her lips as she sank into her seat. And as she realized what had really transpired, she felt terrible. She had been eating the other guy’s cookies! And she’d been so rude to him. And she’d thought he was such a terrible guy. And the man—no, that gentleman, she corrected herself—had smiled through it all, even as a stranger ate his cookies.
She got up instinctively to see if the man was on the same flight, so she could at least apologise for her behaviour and thank him for the cookies. But he was nowhere in sight.
You may think this is a nice little story about a remarkable coincidence involving other people in a faraway land. No! What happened that evening in Chicago between a man, a woman and a pack of cookies happens to you and me, to all of us, all the time. With cookies, or without.
We go through our lives feeling that other people are taking advantage of us, of our talents, stealing our cookies. We seldom pause to think about how we depend on others, on their support, their cookies.
Not just that. Often, the cookies we think of as our own actually belong to others. We worry, we fume when we see someone else get credit for what we think of as ‘our achievements’. And yet we happily bask in the glory of recognition for achievements that were clearly the result of other people’s support. No problems with that!
Joint ventures and business partnerships are witnesses to several such moments of stolen cookies. Each side feels the other side is stealing its cookies. Success, however, lies in thinking like that man at O’Hare. Share those cookies, and keep smiling.
My friend Devdutt Pattanaik sums it up beautifully. A doctor by training, Devdutt has chosen to pursue his passion for Indian mythology. He draws parallels between mythology and the modern workplace, culling lessons for all of us. He says that the world is full of cows and dogs. More dogs, fewer cows. Cows are the givers. They give their milk, not only to their own calves but also to strangers, to humans. They share happily with everyone, not just their own. Dogs are the takers. Wherever they are, they claim territorial rights. Go near them and they growl, they threaten, they fight for the bone, they fight to claim space that doesn’t belong to them. They want those cookies, others’ cookies.
Devdutt says every organization, nay the world, needs more cows than dogs. Ask yourself: What are you?
Back to the cookies … The next time you feel someone else is eating your cookies, just smile. There will be times when you are like that man, and you’ll find someone else eating your cookies. Never mind. Be a cow. Give. Smile.
There will also be times when you’ll be like that young lady, eating someone else’s cookies, mistaking them for your own. Don’t growl. Don’t be rude. Just smile.
Clearly, it’s a good idea to go through life with a smile. Remember, there will always be another pack of cookies waiting for you somewhere.
We all go through our lives feeling that other people are taking advantage of us, of our talents, stealing our cookies. We seldom pause to think about how we depend on others, their support, their cookies. Often, the cookies we think of as our own actually belong to someone else.
Changing Mindsets.
And the Size-15 Shirt!
Driving change is one of the biggest challenges a new leader faces. Often, the arrival of a new leader in an organization is accompanied by a flurry of change. Some of it is anticipated but almost all of it is opposed.
As any new leader will tell you, changing behaviours is tough. And changing mindsets? Phew! Even tougher.
The first challenge is the outsider syndrome. Your advice is disregarded because ‘what would you know, we’ve been doing this for several years. You need to learn, ha ha!’ Then there’s the familiar tale of ‘but it’s always been that way!’ And then there is the belief that it’s worked in the past, so no reason why it won’t work in the future.
And, worst of all, in an attempt to resist change, we tend to confuse cause–and–effect linkages. (I love the story of the man who was being lectured on the merits of having a bath every day. ‘I wonder how people can have a shower every day!’ he remarked. ‘I take a shower just once in a month—and yet feel itchy all over!’)
We all hold on to our beliefs, steadfastly refusing to let go. And we find dubious linkages to justify our mindsets. We forget those immortal words: ‘If you only do what you’ve always done, you’ll only get what you’ve always got.’
There is that other story of a man who complained of persistent neck pain, severe migraine and frequent dizzy spells. He consulted a doctor, who took a good look at him and pronounced the terrible news: He had only six months to live. The man walked out dejected. But then he decided what the hell, if he had only six months to live, he might as well live it up. And do all those things he always wanted to. First, he decided to get himself six silk shirts. He bought some exquisite silk and went to the finest tailor in town, who began to measure him out. With the measuring tape around the man’s collar, the tailor said to his attentive assistant, ‘Size 16.’
‘No, no,’ said the man. ‘I’m a size 15.’ ‘Oh really?’ said the tailor. ‘Let me check again … You are a size 16. No doubt about it.’
‘I am a size 15. I have always been a size 15. And I want a size 15!’ said the man, rather indignantly. ‘So be it,’ said the tailor. ‘But I must warn you, sir, if you wear size-15 shirts, you will have persistent neck pain, severe migraine and frequent dizzy spells.’
Think about it. We are all like that man. We have our own size-15 hang-ups, our belie
fs that we refuse to let go of. Our thinking, which we refuse to change. Ideas, misconceptions that hold us back. And the interesting bit is that in our role as the tailor, we are all quick to spot the problem with other people’s collar sizes.
But when it comes to ourselves, we just cannot see the problem with our own shirt sizes! And we suffer for it. The next time you find that things aren’t going the way you’d like them to, challenge your thinking. Change your mindset. And change your shirt size.
If you only do what you’ve always done, you’ll only get what you’ve always got!
Looking through Our Own Glass Windows
Wonder if you’ve heard the story of the young couple who moved into a new apartment. One morning, the woman looked out of her kitchen window and saw the neighbours’ laundry drying on a line. The clothes looked dirty, really dirty. ‘I don’t think they know how to wash clothes. They look so dirty!’ said she to her husband. ‘Maybe they use a lousy detergent!’ added the husband absent-mindedly, his face still buried in the newspaper.
A few days later, this happened again. Dirty-looking laundry again. Derogatory remarks about the neighbours’ incompetence again.
Then, one Sunday morning, the woman was in for a surprise. She looked out of her window and saw really clean laundry. ‘Ah!’ she exclaimed. ‘They finally learnt how to do it right. Perhaps someone taught them how to wash clothes!’
‘Actually, dear,’ said her husband, ‘I got up early this morning and cleaned our windows.’
Ouch! What’s true for the couple is true for all of us too. It only confirms what behavioural scientists have maintained all along. We see things not the way they are but the way we are! Our windows—our tinted glasses—significantly impact our view of the world.
We all see other people through our own stained-glass windows. If we are looking for faults, we find them. Just as easily as we’d find good if we go looking for that. So it helps not to jump to conclusions and damn other people. It may not be them; our own windows may be to blame.