The Little Big Things
Page 13
And here’s what they discovered:
“The path to a hostmanship culture paradoxically does not go through the guest. In fact it wouldn’t be totally wrong to say that the guest has nothing to do with it. [Again, my italics.] True hostmanship leaders focus on their employees. What drives [exceptionalism] is finding the right people and getting them to love their work and see it as a passion…. The guest comes into the picture only when you are ready to ask,
“‘Would you prefer to stay at a hotel where the staff love their work or where management has made customers its highest priority?’”
I love words!
I think that word choice is critical to leaders.
“Consideration renovation.”
Brilliant!
Leading as “hostmanship.”
Brilliant!
If a leader “hosts” his or her employees with enthusiasm, then the odds go way up that employees will do the same thing with their “guests”—aka “customers.”
(My first suggested “action step” is simple: Study the words above very carefully.)
56. A Sacred Trust.
As I see it, anyone who takes on any leadership job, minor or major, assumes no less than a … Sacred Trust. I know that’s apparently extreme language. But I stand by it.
This sacred trust is all about what organizations are all about: the professional (and, to some extent, personal) development of people. Sure, the boss’s job is to “get the job done,” and done effectively. But “boss-hood” primarily entails an abiding responsibility for the people under your charge. (It’s circular, of course: Turned-on people do turned-on work. Q.E.D.)
Consider an example from your own career: You take on, say, a leadership position. For some period, be it a four-month project or a two-year assignment as a department head, 6 or 66 people are your responsibility. And, in my opinion, each and every one of those 6 or 66 ought to leave your charge in better shape than when you arrived. They should have had a measurable, remarkable, personal, and professional growth experience.
They should have grown in their discipline—accounting, marketing, training, whatever. They should have grown through exposure to new people and new ideas. Even the most junior among them (an 18-year-old stock boy, perhaps) should have been put into some form of leadership role (organizing the logistics for a company outing, perhaps).
Here are some key steps along this “sacred” path:
Begin (in the next 30 days) with small groups or one-on-one sitdowns, aimed at assessing the current state of things; that is, the growth experience during your tenure to date—of each and every employee, in precise terms.
As part of, say, a three-month (no longer) phase of a project plan, establish Formal Personal Growth Goals for each individual—achievement of those 90-day goals will be a large part of your formal evaluation of the project.
Along the way, talk up these goals, in private or in public. Make them, perhaps, an explicit part of your unit’s mission or values statement: “We are committed to the measurable growth of each and every member of our staff. We aspire to have every staff member say of their stay here, ‘That was a remarkable period of my development.’”
“LEADING” PRACTICE
One twist on this idea, practiced by companies such as W. L. Gore and Quad/Graphics, is a formal mentoring program. Everyone (“every” is the operative word) has a mentor, and after a few months of breaking into the job, everyone (“every” is the operative word) will act as a mentor. Thus, everyone (“every” is the operative word) acquires “leadership and people development experience” from the get-go.
(“Sacred trust” for each and every one? Too much to ask? Fairy-tale rhetoric? Well, “sacred trust” is surely the operative descriptor for an 18-year-old U.S. Army private on a four-person team embedded in the roughest mountain passes in Afghanistan—eh?)
57. Rat Psych Rules!—Or: Deploying Positive Reinforcement’s Incredible Potency.
“You shouldn’t be looking for people slipping up, you should be looking for all the good things people do and praising those.”
—Richard Branson
“I can live for two months on a good compliment.”
—Mark Twain
In my Ph.D. student incarnation, I was more or less trained by a “rat psychologist”—that is, a “behaviorist.” He was not a down-the-line disciple of B. F. Skinner, but he did believe in the power of basic behavioral reinforcers.
And I, as they say, swallowed the Kool-Aid.
(Or at least took a swill.)
While I was getting my MBA, in the early 1970s, one “organizational behavior” prof told us of a fascinating experiment. Students were in a bowl-like classroom, with the teacher at the bottom. Students were instructed by the experimenter to nod, not in unison but noticeably, when the prof moved, say, Stage Right. And not to nod when he was in the center or moved Stage Left. The story goes—which I passionately believe—that in short order the prof was practically glued to the corner of Stage Right, and pretty much stayed there, unaware of the circumstances.
Such is the power of deliberate positive reinforcement.
To give you “the full Skinner” in 100 words or less (or maybe more, but not so many more): Positive reinforcement, small or large, reliably induces forward motion—that is, more of the good thing you acknowledged with that simple, little, in-passing “Thanks” or “Nice job.” Negative reinforcement is of questionable value. It often spurs a general slowdown, not just a course alteration relative to the behavior you attempted to correct. Moreover, negative reinforcement routinely induces clever evasion—the “bad” behavior isn’t halted, instead the person negatively reinforced just concocts elaborate new habits to keep from getting caught. I’m not suggesting you stop offering course corrections—I am suggesting that you may be unpleasantly surprised by the unintended consequences.
I was, and always will be, a sucker for positive reinforcement. And you are, too—like it or not.
So???? Why the hell are we so chary with this magic potion?
I can only come up with one answer: Lunacy!
A positive comment, not gushing, just positive. A small plaque, a pin, a celebratory banquet (or lunch!) at the end of a small but successful project, a smile, a “thank you” or two or three or eleven. The evidence is clear—people don’t get much positive reinforcement! Because you and I, as leaders, don’t offer it up. I repeat: Sheer lunacy!
You may be “one of those”—one of those who believes “They’ve got to go well above and beyond to deserve praise—otherwise you’re just rewarding them for doing their job.”
Lunacy!
Of course extraordinary work deserves extraordinary rewards. But what about the little barrier removed? The small but important helping hand offered? The milestone met a couple of days ahead of time? I am damn well suggesting in the strongest terms I can muster that you … constantly … offer recognition (positive reinforcement) for the tiniest steps in the right direction. For example, after a meeting go out of your way to acknowledge a wee contribution from someone who is skilled but ordinarily quiet.
And so on.
People.
Any of us.
All of us.
Never get tired of “it”!
I, at 67, after a career that has not been shy of accolades, bubble over with delight when someone gives me the slightest positive feedback—“How nice of you, Tom, to bring flowers to the receptionist this morning.” (I beam for hours—at 67!—for the recognition.)
This is one … “Mother of All Power Tools”!
Believe it!
Use it!
Liberally!
(No time like the present!)
The fact is—fact—that your ratio, which you should consciously manage, of Positive to Negative reinforcement ought to be pretty-very high. But, alas, research tells us that the opposite is the case: From child rearing to the office, the frequency of Negative reinforcement typically outpaces the Positive reinforcemen
ts by a hearty ratio—moreover, a lot of managers have the hardest damn time giving any positive reinforcement. As I said before … lunacy
So fix it!
You are not a rat!
Or are you?
I sure as hell am!
SHIPSHAPE SHIFT
Here, drawn from the recent book Barack, Inc.: Winning Business Lessons from the Obama Campaign, by Rick Faulk and Barry Libert, is a story that encapsulates perfectly the power of positive reinforcement:
“[Retired United States Navy] Captain Mike Abrashoff knows the importance of saying ‘thank you.’ In his first book, It’s Your Ship, he related how he sent letters to the parents of his crew members on the guided-missile destroyer USS Benfold … Putting himself in those parents’ shoes, he imagined how happy they would be to hear from the commanding officer that their sons and daughters were doing well. And he figured that those parents would, in turn, call their children to tell them how proud they were of them.
“Abrashoff debated whether to send a letter to the parents of one young man who wasn’t really star material. Weighing the sailor’s progress, he decided to go ahead. A couple of weeks later, the sailor appeared at his door, tears streaming down his face. It seems the kid’s father had always considered him a failure and told him so. After reading the captain’s letter, he called to congratulate his son and tell him how proud he was of him. ‘Captain, I can’t thank you enough,’ said the young man. For the first time in his life, he felt loved and encouraged by his father.
“As Abrashoff says, ‘Leadership is the art of practicing simple things—commonsense gestures that ensure high morale and vastly increase the odds of winning.’ In other words, small changes can have big consequences.”
Words
58. “What Do You Think?”
Our colleague Dave Wheeler said, in a comment at tompeters.com: “The 4 most important words in management are … What do you think?”
I agree!
And the old engineer in me screams: Quantify!
So: How many times … today … did you “use the four words”? I.e…. Exactly how many times did you utter: “What do you think?”
TRACK IT!
Count ‘em.
Graph it.
Insist that every leader track it.
AND POSSIBLY PUT IT IN THE “VALUES STATEMENT”:
“We obsessively ask ‘What do you think?’—We understand that we rise or fall on the engagement and intelligence and constant contributions of 100 percent of us.”
“What do you think?” is sooooo important because …
(1) “They” are in fact “closer to the action”—they know the score.
(2) It screams: “You are an invaluable person. I respect you. I respect your knowledge. I respect your judgment. I need your help.”
(3) It demonstrates that you know the score—i.e., understand that you can’t do it alone, that you know you don’t have all the answers.
(4) It shouts, “This is a … team effort. We rise or fall together.”
59. “Thank You.”
“The deepest human need is the need to be appreciated.”
—William James, premier American psychologist, 1842–1910 (I think I’ve used this in about five books—and I surely plan to use it in the next one.)
How many times … today … did you “use the two words”?
I.e…. Exactly how many times did you utter:
“Thank you”?
TRACK IT!
Count ‘em.
Graph it.
Insist that every leader track it.
AND, YES, CONSIDER PUTTING IT IN THE “VALUES STATEMENT”:
“We habitually express appreciation for one another’s efforts—because we do in fact consciously appreciate everyone’s ‘ordinary’ ‘daily’ contributions, let alone the extraordinary ones.”
(NB: There is simply no way whatsoever that I could overestimate … “Thank-You Power.” If this doesn’t come naturally to you, and it doesn’t for some—do it anyway. You will be so stunned by the effect “Thank you” has that you will soon embed the habit in your hourly affairs. We may well “pay them,” but the good attitude people exude is 100 percent voluntary—i.e., it is always “above and beyond,” and hence it is always worthy of note—and a heartfelt “Thank you.”)
(NB: In #57 above, I talked about “rat psychology” and positive reinforcement. There is surely duplication here. But my point in this heartfelt riff is to narrow the discussion and focus exclusively on the two words and only the two words: “THANK YOU.”) (They must be singled out!)
60. “I’m Sorry.”
“I regard apologizing as the most magical, healing, restorative gesture human beings can make. It is the centerpiece of my work with executives who want to get better.”
—Marshall Goldsmith, What Got You Here Won’t Get You There: How Successful People Become Even More Successful (Goldsmith is perhaps the world’s most prominent executive coach.)
“Apologies unmask all the hopes, desires, and uncertainties that make us human because, at the moment of genuine apology, we confront our humanity most fully. At the point of apology we strip off a mask and face our limitations. No wonder we hesitate.”
—John Kador, Effective Apology: Mending Fences, Building Bridges, and Restoring Trust
Talk about strong and unequivocal language!
(“… most magical, healing, restorative gesture …”)
Could it be merited?
Well, yes. Like Goldsmith and Kador, I believe that a genuine apology (and there’s a lot to write, which space here does not permit, about a hundred shades and flavors of “genuine”) is of the utmost personal and strategic importance—and, indeed, worthy of the label “magical.”
My view is long held—and mostly a byproduct, personal as much as professional, of experience. Usually and sadly, like so many (males, at any rate—there are enormous gender differences on this dimension), my signal experiences with apology are associated with my failure to do so—with horrid consequences.
As I have become convinced of the power (redux: personal, professional, magical) of apology, I have actually accumulated a small library, which includes, in addition to Kador’s book cited above, Nick Smith’s I Was Wrong and Aaron Lazare’s On Apology. All three take us on a journey from deep philosophical considerations to a raft of case studies that range from “small” personal apologies to Lincoln’s apology for slavery.
One is left with an encompassing sense of the extraordinary power of the … Art of Apology … rightfully considered. Meld that to experiences in professional contexts, and I believe we are talking about, in practical business terms, a … “matchless strategic lever.” (Yes, damn it, strategic. Yes, damn it, matchless.)
In the arsenal of what really matters when it comes to getting things done/execution/implementation, there are few—if any—“power tools” that have the heft of:
“I apologize.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m to blame.”
“Simply put, I screwed up.”
“I bear full responsibility for this f***-up.”
“I blew it. Period.”
“There may have been ‘other factors’ involved, but I damn well did contribute significantly to making this mess—and I flat-out apologize.”
Key point/Bonus: Often as not, an Effective Apology is far more than a “bullet dodged.” That is, not only is a problem cleared up, but also the cock-up brilliantly—and overwhelmingly and unequivocally—atoned for solidifies a relationship … and … carries it forward.
(Some more evidence of the hardest sort: In addition to being an excellent “how to” guide, Kador’s Effective Apology also offers ladle-dropper examples. With a new and forthcoming policy on apologies, Toro, the lawn mower folks, reduced the average cost of settling a claim from $115,000 in 1991 to $35,000 in 2008—and the company hasn’t been to trial in the last 15 years! The Veterans Administration hospital in Lexington, Massachusetts, developed
an approach, totally uncharacteristic in health care, that entailed apologizing for errors—even when no patient request or claim was made. In 2000, the systemic mean VA hospital malpractice settlement throughout the United States was $413,000; the Lexington VA hospital settlement number was $36,000—and there were far fewer per patient claims to begin with.)
Suggested bottom line:
(1) Start with Kador’s Effective Apology (ASAP) and become a full-blown … Student of Apology.
(2) Talk with your mates about the … Commercial Effectiveness of Strategic Apology.
(3) Assuming you agree on the “strategic” power of apology, commence treating the Art of Apology as a “professional practice.” (That’s Kador’s advice—and I heartily concur!)
(4) Acknowledge that this “practice” can become one of a small handful of no less than “core strategic competencies”!
A “SORRY” AFFAIR
There are also matters such as the … “Virtuous Circle of Apology.” Suppose a problem arises—and it’s pretty clear that it’s mostly your fault. Nonetheless, my actions where also contributory; there are rarely if ever cases where one party is 100 percent guilty or guiltless. So I bite the bullet, call you, and take the blame in general. (I don’t say, “Well, I’m not blameless.” I simply say, “I screwed up on that late shipment.”) When I take such an initiative, experience overwhelmingly suggests that the “Virtuous Circle of Apology” will begin. You, in fact, being aware of your significant contribution to the error, will almost surely jump in with, “No, no, no. It was me. I’m the one who screwed this thing up.” After which we will bend over backwards seeing who can accept the greater share of the responsibility. (!!!) Done right, in three or four minutes we will be laughing or crying about the situation—and agreeing to have lunch or a beer or two in the next few days.