by Prakash Iyer
The next time you are basking in glory, celebrating a record year or popping the champagne to mark a smashing new success, do spare a thought for your parachute packer.
Who is your parachute packer? More important, whose parachute are you packing?
The Great Wall of China
Historical monuments often tell fascinating tales. The Great Wall of China is no exception.
One of the world’s seven wonders, the Great Wall was built (and rebuilt and re-rebuilt) between the fifth century BC and the sixteenth century AD. Stretching over 6400 km, the brick-and-mud structure was originally built to protect the northern boundaries of the Chinese empire from attacks by enemies, specifically the Mongolian and Xiongnu armies. No effort or expense was spared, and it did take an enormous amount of time, effort, money—and stone and mud and sweat and toil—to build the Great Wall.
Apparently two million people lost their lives in the mammoth project. The wall was strong enough to survive any onslaught from swords and spears—common weapons of the time. It was high enough to prevent soldiers from scaling it and climbing over into the Chinese empire. And it stretched long and far enough, making it virtually impossible for anyone to go around. For good measure, there were over a million guards manning the Great Wall. Quite a fortress, you’ll agree. And almost impossible to penetrate.
So, did the Great Wall keep invaders at bay? Not quite. Successive armies got past it, and invaded the empire. In its first hundred years, there were three invasions, and history was witness to several more instances of armies quite easily penetrating the seemingly impossible-to-penetrate wall. After each attack, the wall was reinforced. More planning, more brick, more mud, more money spent. All to no avail. So what really happened?
It turns out that while they spared no effort or expense in building the wall, the rulers completely ignored the guards. These men were completely demotivated, very lonely and totally unhappy. They resented their rulers for punishing them with postings in such faraway places. And they just could not identify with the larger goal that the wall was built for.
So each time attackers came along, all they had to do was bribe the guards, and they would be happily waved in! The wall did not have to be penetrated; it was breached via a breach of trust! The Great Wall failed to meet its objective because the builders forgot to take the people along.
It’s the same in organizations too. Failing to take people along can render your best investments futile. Often, we pay too much attention to building the system and the process but don’t bother about getting the support and involvement of the people who will make it happen. That’s a recipe for disaster.
Consider, for instance, an organization trying to implement a new enterprise resource planning (ERP) package. It hires the best consultants, purchases the best software, upgrades the hardware … But, as any ERP implementer will tell you, the single most vital reason for failure is the lack of buy-in from the people within the organization. Building an internal task force, regular training of all users, creating process owners and preparing the organization for change—all these are important for successful ERP implementation. Almost as important as choosing the right package!
If you’re responsible for a team, the lesson from the Great Wall is a good one to remember. Look at what happened to Kolkata Knight Riders in the Indian Premier League. They had John Buchanan, arguably one of the world’s best coaches, supported by a nine-man army of experts. John built out a grand vision for a winning team, with multiple captains and newfangled theories. The team spent a lot of time acclimatizing to alien conditions, even ran a talent hunt in the run-up to the main event. But what of the team itself? No attention was paid to their desires or motivations. As a result, they felt alienated and insecure. No wonder then that KKR came a cropper in IPL Season 2. Clearly the guards didn’t have their hearts in the game.
Several consumer goods companies have learnt this too. When they have a great new product backed by a powerful, big-budget marketing campaign, what do they do? Do they just launch the brand and then expect the consumers to come flocking in, swayed by the powerful advertising? No!
They recognize the role of the guards! A launch conference for the frontline is an integral part of the marketer’s armoury. Getting the sales army to know the product, making them feel excited about the new launch is often critical to the success of the brand. It then percolates right down to the small-town distributor’s salesmen. Getting him to wear a new T-shirt with the brand emblazoned on it, rewarding him for meeting launch targets—these are small but significant steps in ensuring that all the money spent on developing the new brand and the new marketing campaign does not go to waste.
Too often, organizations focus all their attention on building the Great Wall and pay scant attention to the guards manning the wall. That’s an invitation to failure. Successful leaders and organizations realize that it’s not enough to build the Great Wall—it’s important to have the guards on your side too!
It’s not about the structure or the system or the processes or the infrastructure. It’s about the people, always about the people.
The Chairman’s Questions
As a young sales manager peddling soap in Tamil Nadu, one of my fondest memories is of the first time the company chairman visited my market. It happened several years ago, but it taught me a lesson that’s stayed with me, until this day.
A ‘chairman’s visit’ was rather special and a lot of preparation went into ensuring it would go off well. The route was marked out, the markets identified, the distributors en route briefed. As the man who’d get to travel with the chairman, I was working hard to ensure I had answers to all the questions that might get thrown at me during the long drive. How were the brands performing? What were the growth rates? How was the competition behaving? How much money were we spending on local marketing? What was the profitability of the local distributor? I had the answers to all of these—and then some. What was the main crop in the region? What was the hardness of water in the area? What was the population? What percentage of villages was electrified? What was the main source of livelihood? The list seemed endless. But I was hopeful I would be up to it.
The appointed day arrived. The branch manager and I picked up the chairman at the airport and drove out to a small town, some 90 km outside Chennai. The initial discussions were rather general, and extremely friendly. He asked after my family, my education, my interests but an hour into the ride, I was still waiting for the real questions. As we crossed a paddy field, I was tempted to remark about the rainfall being almost 95 per cent of average this year, and how the yield per acre had improved by 20 per cent in the last decade. But I held myself back.
We reached the distributor’s godown. After introductions and a quick review of his business, and the customary biscuits and kaapi, we were all set to go into the local market. As the salesman and the delivery boy stood outside, waiting for us expectantly, the chairman looked at me and asked the first real question:
‘What’s the name of that delivery boy?’
I had no clue! Now, in the scheme of things, the delivery boy was just a helper, an odd-job man who would deliver the boxes of soap and detergent ordered by the retailer. He’d lift the boxes on his shoulder and ferry them from the van to the shop. And he’d also stick posters on the shop’s walls. That’s all.
I knew the name of the distributor. I also knew his prosperous moneylender’s father’s name. And I knew the name of the salesman. As a matter of fact, I had even learnt the district collector’s name, just in case. But the delivery boy’s name? I had no idea!
‘I don’t know. Is there a problem? Did he do something wrong?’ I asked in reply.
The response was quick. ‘No. I just want you to remember that each of these people makes a difference. And it’s our job to know them, to acknowledge them. If you knew him by his name, and if you called it out, he’d feel special. You could make his day. And he’ll do everything he can to help you meet your goals. We a
ll tend to ignore these people even though they spend all their lives working for us, without asking for or expecting anything in return. They are our real heroes. I want you to remember that.’
I may not have realized it then but, in that moment, I had received a master class. On leadership. On success. And on managing people. A lesson I haven’t forgotten. Knowing your own team and acknowledging their contribution are far more important than knowing your sales numbers—or the names of ‘people who matter’.
In our lives, we tend to look up all the time, at our superiors. We seldom find time for those ‘lowly folks’ who are looking up at us. The peon, the security guy, the office assistant, that delivery boy—all of them play roles in helping us succeed.
The next time you come across one of your ‘delivery boys’, do remember to acknowledge his presence. It might just be a smiling nod or a hand on his shoulder but remember, it can change his life. And yours too.
We tend to worry about the seemingly big stuff—sales growth, market shares, profitability. But we forget the small stuff—the people who help make it happen. The foot soldiers. And we forget that in their own way, they impact all of these. Good idea to remember that.
To tell the true character of a person, you don’t need fancy psychometric tests or long months of behavioural assessments. Just observe how he behaves with ordinary folks—the lift operator, the driver, the office peon, the waiter in a restaurant. Does he scream and shout and show who the boss is? Or does he say thank you as he walks out of the elevator? Is he rude? Or does he speak with respect, and with a smile? The answers can be revealing.
In our constant quest to look up and please our bosses, we keep hoping he remembers our name and acknowledges our role. We love it when that happens. And yet when it is our turn to acknowledge those who work for us, we are often found wanting. During that visit several years ago, I was perhaps just another ‘delivery boy’ for the chairman of India’s largest consumer goods company but, by taking interest in me and getting to know me—and making sure I did the same with my ‘delivery boy’—he taught me a lesson that’s made a difference. All my life!
Now when I look at a young trainee or ambitious manager, this is the trait I look for above all else. How does he behave with his team? How well does he know the folks who work for him? How does he treat the ordinary people around him? Show me a guy who’s terrific with people, who ‘looks up’ to his subordinates and I’ll show you a star. Those unsung heroes we tend to take for granted, they will ensure he succeeds!
You could have had the finest education. You may be a master in your chosen field. You could be a really senior manager. But if you really want to succeed, you need to learn to work with a team. You need to learn to respect people. That is perhaps the most critical skill for success. At work. And in life.
It’s a lesson I learnt several years ago. And haven’t forgotten it. And yes, the delivery boy’s name, I later discovered, was Velu. I haven’t forgotten that either.
In our lives, we tend to look up all the time at our superiors. We seldom find time for those ‘lowly folks’ who are looking up at us. To tell the true character of a person, just observe how he behaves with ordinary folks.
Leadership Lessons from Michelle Obama
Barack Obama’s incredible journey to the White House has been well chronicled and is now part of popular lore. And if you tracked the Obama family’s move into the White House, you might recall several interesting stories. Their train journey into Washington. The installation of a basketball post for the President to practise his slam dunk. The arrival of the Portuguese water dog, Bo. And more.
My favourite Obama story, however, does not concern the President. It’s about the first lady, Michelle Obama.
Time reported that soon after they moved into the White House, Michelle sent an email to her staff of advisors inviting them to a meeting in one of the many conference rooms in the White House. And as the team of policy advisors and communication experts walked in at the appointed hour, they were surprised by what they saw in the room.
Inside the meeting room was an army of people. Michelle had called in the entire household staff of the White House. Cooks and maids. Plumbers and electricians. Gardeners and janitors. Relatively insignificant people, seemingly unimportant folks but people nevertheless. People who kept the wheels running in the White House.
‘This is my team that came with me from Chicago,’ said Michelle, pointing to her team of advisors. ‘And this is my team that works here already,’ she went on, pointing to the household staff assembled in the room. And then for an hour or so, they mingled, with Michelle ensuring that everyone got a chance to meet everyone else.
Now you’ll agree that inviting all the cooks and gardeners and the rest of the household staff was a nice gesture. But wait, there’s more. Here’s what Michelle said to her senior advisors: ‘I want you to know that a year from now, you won’t be judged based on whether they know your name. You’ll be judged based on whether you know theirs.’
And that is a terrific lesson in people management. For Michelle’s team. For all of us.
True leaders know the importance of focusing their lives and efforts on their team, rather than on themselves. When you have the power and the position, it is inevitable that you will be known by everyone on your team, wherever they may be. It’s foolish to believe that your fame is your handiwork. It just comes with the job.
Learning to focus on others, showing that you value them, demonstrating genuine concern for people in the frontline—now those are the true hallmarks of great leaders. Do you know the name of the man who cleans your office? Do you know the name of the security guard who smiles and salutes you every morning? Do you?
Knowing the name is not the big deal. It’s the ability, nay the habit, of turning the spotlight away from yourself and on to others, that matters. When the spotlight is on you, you can preen and walk about feeling good, but you will be blinded by the light, unable to see the faces around you. Turn the lights the other way and you will notice—very clearly—the smiles and the frowns, the joy and the despair on the faces around you. And the true test of leadership has got to be how well you know your team. Not how well your team knows you.
Dale Carnegie was right. In his immortal advice on winning friends and influencing people, here’s what he said: ‘You can make more friends in two months by becoming more interested in other people than you can in two years by trying to get people interested in you.’
Make a beginning. Get to know the cleaner in your office. The salesman in Siliguri. The maintenance engineer in the factory. And occasionally do the Michelle Obama thing: Get the staff into a room. Thank them. Get to know them better.
Don’t focus on yourself. Take care of your team. And they’ll take care of you. Far better than you possibly can yourself!
True leaders know the importance of focusing on their team, rather than on themselves. A year from now, you won’t be judged based on whether they know your name. You’ll be judged based on whether you know theirs.
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FINDING BALANCE
The PepsiCo Chief and the Call from Coke
He runs the New York Marathon every year. He graduated from the US Naval Academy and rose to the rank of captain in the US Marine Corps. Among his several roles, he served as a guard in the White House during the regimes of President Nixon and President Ford. He then moved into the corporate world, climbed rapidly and, in 2001, became the chairman and CEO of PepsiCo. In 2006, he decided to relinquish his post in favour of his deputy. A decision that yet again affirmed the truth in that old saying: ‘It’s best to quit when people ask why, not why not.’ Whichever way you look at it, Steve Reinemund, this marathon runner and White House guard-turned-PepsiCo chief, had a remarkable career.
What do you think he would list as the high point of his career? Would it be the steps he took to diversify PepsiCo’s portfolio to include good-for-health stuff, a shift that clearly took it ahead in the race agains
t Coke? Or would it be the fact that under his leadership, revenues grew by $9 billion dollars, net income rose by 70 per cent, earnings per share were up 80 per cent and PepsiCo’s market cap exceeded $100 billion dollars? Or could it be his diversity agenda? Steve worked passionately to create a diverse, all-inclusive team that reflected the mix of customers the company served. Or would it be just the fact that he knew when to quit and make way for his second-in-command, unlike several leaders who get so attached to their power that they refuse to let go and stay far beyond their best-before dates?
Any one of these would have been a source of great pride and joy for most leaders. But it’s interesting to hear Steve recall one of those ‘unforgettable moments’ from a remarkably achievement-laden life. One moment that I think will top his charts. Here it is:
It was a day like any other. As Steve looked out of the window of his corner-room office on to the sprawling lawns of the PepsiCo campus, the silence was interrupted by the ringing of the phone on his desk. He picked it up. On the line was the CEO of the Coca-Cola Company.
He was calling Steve to thank him for an enormous favour. Steve, of course, had no idea what the favour was. It seems a packet containing some highly confidential Coca-Cola documents had been wrongly delivered to PepsiCo, instead of to Coke. And without it even being opened, the PepsiCo staff had immediately redirected it to Coke.
Well, Steve had no idea about this. After hanging up, he called his administration manager to find out more. And he was told yes indeed a packet meant for Coke had accidentally arrived at PepsiCo’s office. And just two people knew about it: the woman handling the incoming mail, and her manager. In their wisdom, they decided that the right thing to do was to just send it to the correct addressee. In this case, the Coca-Cola Company. That’s all. No long hours spent thinking what should be done. No asking for advice. No fuss.