Too often companies—small and large, publicly and privately held—assume that because they are nongovernmental, they have no need or obligation to engage with the media or explain themselves to the public. Companies with that attitude regularly pay the price at some point in the form of legislation that doesn’t go their way, an adverse local government or regulatory ruling, or, most often, skeptical if not hostile press coverage.
I have certainly had my share of media coverage over the decades, sometimes harshly critical, sometimes laudatory. I know which I liked more. (And anyone, even an old hand, who says that a negative story, especially one impugning competence or character, doesn’t get under his skin is kidding either himself or everyone else.) Most of the news coverage of what I was trying to do in all three organizations I led was pretty positive. I think there are lessons to be drawn from my experience that leaders in both the public and the private sectors can use. I approached the media as a fact of life: they are always significant factors for those in leadership positions. Wishing them away is silly. Resenting them or taking on a bunker mentality will only hurt you in the end (see Nixon, Richard). You need to deal with them. In fact, the media can be the best vehicle a leader has to communicate his actions, his thinking, and his intentions for change. Most senior bureaucrats see the media as a liability and a threat; I believe they can also be an asset, especially for a change agent. The reformer needs to take advantage of all the tools at his or her disposal.
Particularly in the wake of the end of the Cold War, as mentioned earlier, I felt we at the CIA had to be more open to the media—and thus the public—about what we were doing and why collecting and analyzing intelligence continued to be important. The public had tolerated such a secret organization (and our periodic missteps) during the forty-five-year-long existential conflict with the Soviet Union but, I thought, was going to be significantly more skeptical about the need for the agency after the collapse of our primary adversary. So I undertook the measures described earlier to lift the veil of secrecy about the CIA, its historical record both analytically and operationally, and how it continued to contribute to national security. Dramatically greater accessibility to the CIA for the media was central to achieving my objectives. Through them, we had the opportunity to better inform Americans about our role and thereby (hopefully) gain their support—or at least their toleration.
The media were also central to achieving my agenda at Defense. Media coverage of congressional hearings and press conferences provided the public with my messages about our strategy and tactics in Iraq and Afghanistan, where we were making progress—or not—and the need to end the wars in a way that did not affect our broader global interests. When I announced major program cuts in 2009, I counted on the media’s reporting to help create a positive public reaction that would put pressure on Congress to be supportive. And I hoped that media reporting on our efforts to help wounded warriors as well as those still in the fight would provide reassurance to both the troops and their families.
On many of the larger issues I was addressing at the Pentagon (and everywhere else I led), I counted on media coverage of my major speeches to spread the message about changes needed or under way to audiences far broader than those sitting in front of me. I wanted the public to know what I was trying to do, and I used that transparency not just to inform but also to generate outside support for my agenda and to make internal opposition more difficult. A media strategy that focuses on a bureaucracy working to improve its performance and be more responsive to citizens—to do the right thing—is highly likely to generate positive coverage, and this will help a leader internally and with external stakeholders. In large bureaucracies, people will usually just nod their heads in meetings and mumble assent to what the boss is saying—and go on doing what they were doing before. But when a leader goes public with his or her views—or criticism, no matter how tactful—of how the organization is working, it’s a sign that he or she means business, in effect airing the dirty laundry in public. That raises the stakes for everyone involved.
I did this repeatedly, including with respect to my dealings with much of the air force leadership in 2007 and 2008. When it came to my priorities—immediate battlefield needs over potential future conflicts—they just weren’t “getting it.” In my speech to the Air War College in April 2008, delivered with press in the auditorium, I spoke of “pulling teeth” to get air force reconnaissance assets to the battlefield, throwing down the gauntlet after weeks of useless meetings and briefings. It also sent a message to those on the front lines—and their families—that I had their backs.
Investigative efforts on the part of the media can cause problems, but they also may well inform you of a problem you didn’t know you had or of opportunities to be seized. As I have written, it was a Washington Post series that alerted me to the scandalous treatment of outpatient wounded warriors at Walter Reed Army Medical Center. Spurred by those stories, we responded seriously and quickly and received a lot of favorable coverage at the same time the plight of our wounded troops received public attention. Similarly, I would not have known about the capabilities of the MRAP vehicles had it not been for a story in USA Today.
I learned that after the story about MRAPs was published, the Pentagon’s public affairs office—accustomed to a more reactive, defensive posture—immediately went into “rapid-response” mode to rebut the article. The notion that USA Today raised an important issue with respect to troop protection seemed not to have been considered. In reality, the bureaucracy had dragged its feet getting these lifesaving vehicles to the war zone, and no amount of denial and spin would change that.
I wish dealing with the media were easy and straightforward. The challenge comes when the reporter is on a short deadline and a leader doesn’t have enough time to ascertain the facts, thus leaving her with a noncommittal quote, which is never a good place to be. It makes her sound wishy-washy or, worse, evasive. Or a reporter won’t believe her and will go ahead with the story anyway, maybe not even including what she had to say. Sometimes a reporter will run a story without ever talking to her. All these things happen, and the leader has no control. She just has to cope as best she can. But she will be making a mistake if she allows those situations to make her resentful or defensive in dealing with the media or lead her to clam up. She will be the loser.
The media are stakeholders. They can—and will—have an impact on a leader’s ability to achieve change in any institution. As the old saying goes, “Never argue with people who buy ink by the barrel” (or, today, control endless hours of airtime or millions of page views). Fighting with the media or treating them as the enemy gives them a foil and will leave a leader the worse for it. To be effective, a leader has to use her media coverage in advancing a reform agenda. As when dealing with other stakeholders, a leader must play the long game and not get diverted by one or another bad experience. The press must be given access and spoken to honestly and candidly. Transparency is the watchword. As is telling the truth. Give the press public credit when it is due.
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Legislatures, oversight boards (and regulatory bodies), and the media are probably the three most important stakeholders with a claim on a leader’s time and to which he needs to be responsive for success. But they are far from alone. So a word about several others he really can’t ignore.
Any leader in a big organization must deal with the local community. Most people are familiar with “town and gown” issues affecting universities and the communities where they are located. But other large bureaucracies have similar challenges. For the leader of any large organization, public or private, managing the chemistry with the local community will be time-consuming and require political finesse. This is especially true if an organization is located in a small or medium-size town where it is one of the largest—if not the largest—employer. An effective leader in an organization must try to keep relations with the community on friendly terms—or at least minimize hostilities.
There is a leadership challenge on both sides of the fence—local business and community leaders and leaders of big institutions located in town. Problems will arise that beggar the imagination and would test the wisdom of Solomon because, above all, the locals are ambivalent about the presence of the big organization.
On the one hand, they need it: It is usually an economic lifeline—sometimes the only one—for a town or neighborhood. It is a major source of help and donations for every kind of good cause, and its employees are usually deeply involved in the community.
Yet residents see the presence of such institutions as a major daily hassle. The big business, state or federal institution, university, or military installation causes traffic jams; doesn’t pay local property taxes (or, if a business, pays too little); causes environmental problems; behaves “arrogantly” and “secretively” and is “uncaring” about local problems; pays salaries that “distort” the local housing market. If the institution is one of some forty-two hundred two- and four-year colleges or universities in America, it typically has thousands of young people between eighteen and twenty-five living in the community. They park their cars in creative places, don’t exactly tend carefully to the places they rent—inside or out—adore loud music, drive like they were in NASCAR, and usually consume copious amounts of alcohol, especially on weekends. They sometimes engage in social activities their older, more staid neighbors find inappropriate and offensive (especially if those activities take place in their shrubs or on their lawn). Moreover, these educational institutions have a penchant to throw their weight around when they want something, to develop commercial real estate or off-campus housing that competes with local businesses, and to engage in other practices the community regards as preemptory or presumptuous.
If the major installation is a military facility, its eighteen- to twenty-five-year-olds will hit town for recreational purposes. There will be warplanes and helicopters flying too low, restricted airspace, or limits on public access to favorite hunting grounds, as well as environmental and other issues. Activists who are opposed to nuclear weapons (or weapons of any sort) being near their homes and opposed to any military presence at all will be vocal. As secretary of defense, I was routinely briefed on disputes between military installations and nearby neighbors and towns.
The point of this rather superficial overview of problems associated with local communities as stakeholders is simply as a reminder that they matter and, if neglected, can cause a leader innumerable headaches. On the other hand, they can also be real assets in dealing with state legislatures or congressional delegations. A business or government leader goes a long way in winning over local communities and officials by giving them some of her time, being transparent, taking their concerns seriously, and responding constructively. She must look for opportunities to involve members of the community and their leaders in activities sponsored by her institution. Similarly, she and her senior colleagues should get involved in the community. Attendance at meetings of the chamber of commerce, the Rotary, and other civic organizations gets noticed, as will support of local charities, Little League, and so on. Gestures of respect toward the community by the leader of the biggest employer in town can pay disproportionate dividends.
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I had little experience working or negotiating with unions (although some would apply that label to university faculties), but based on observation from a safe distance, it seems to me that most conflict between local or state government leaders (including university leaders) and unions—except for the public teachers unions—is about pay, benefits, and job security. Many city and state governments in past years made generous commitments to employees in those areas—particularly pensions—that have now become onerous, even unsustainable fiscal burdens.
Reform leaders should regard unions as stakeholders who must be taken into account. A leader should figure out what reform measures he can detach from hot-button issues such as pay and benefits and make those changes independently. He must demonstrate how changes that improve efficiency and performance can reduce costs and enhance public support—thereby enhancing job security. If reducing the number of employees is necessary, as suggested earlier, a leader must try to make the process as humane, transparent, and painless as possible. I realize this all sounds terribly rational and sensible in situations where both of those qualities are usually in short supply. But the more a reformer can stifle his rhetoric and try to make the union leadership a partner in making needed changes, the better his odds of success. Let the politicians debate the role of unions in government agencies. As far into the future as most reformers can see, unions will be a fact of life. They are not to be ignored. A leader must figure out a way to work with them. As with all stakeholders, persuading them that constructive change and improved performance are in their own self-interest is vitally important.
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There are two other groups of stakeholders most leaders will likely never encounter, but for leaders at nearly all levels in higher education or the military they are critically important. So, please indulge me while I speak to those folks—although others may find this aspect of two huge types of institutions of more than passing interest. I am speaking of alumni and retirees.
No college or university head can neglect the alumni. Most leaders, especially outside universities, don’t understand how important these folks can be. Many graduates from a university or college remain interested in what goes on there. Cultivating these people can be time-consuming and sometimes a nuisance, but it’s worth it. The leader’s reassurance to them that he intends to make a good organization even better, that in doing so he will be respectful of the traditions and culture of the place, and that he does not plan to plow over their hallowed grounds can pay big dividends.
As state funding for public higher education continues to drop, the importance of alumni and their financial gifts continues to rise. They are now more important than ever. But their contributions of time and resources come with a price tag: a greater voice in what goes on at the university—athletics, academic programs, management, policies, and even matters relating to the faculty and students. If a leader has an ambitious agenda for change, he will hear plenty from alumni, both in support and in virulent opposition. Alumni will clog his e-mail, his phone lines, and his waiting room, all in an effort to weigh in with their views on what he is up to. And lest he even think about being dismissive, they also have influence with his board of regents and with the state legislature.
As I mentioned earlier, A&M was an all-male military college until the mid-1960s, and participation in the Corps of Cadets was mandatory. Nearly all of the university’s most revered traditions derive from the corps, even though it now accounts for less than 5 percent of the student body. The corps is still seen as “the keepers of the spirit,” the heart and soul of what it means to be an Aggie. A&M’s older, and many of its most influential, alumni were in the Corps of Cadets.
When I became president of A&M in 2002, the corps was going through a rough patch in terms of recruitment, academic performance, and publicity. In order to enlist the necessary support of older, more conservative Aggies for me (an outsider) and for many of the changes I wanted to make at the university, I decided to adopt the corps, to become its biggest booster on campus, to protect it, to improve its academic performance. Accordingly, I attended virtually every corps event. I ate lunch with cadets regularly in their dining hall. I ran with them early in the morning. More significantly, I also engaged the old Aggies by forming a presidential “board of visitors” to advise me on growing the corps and making it more appealing to incoming freshmen. I selected for the board about twenty of the former students most ardently supportive of the corps, and I asked that each donate $20,000 a year, all of which would be used to recruit more kids to the corps. The members of that board, some of the most influential and generous alumni, would become some of my strongest supporters at the university, mainly because they saw how much I cared about the corps. Tha
t support would become essential as I tackled controversial issues such as increasing racial and ethnic diversity. My love of the corps was genuine, but it also served a broader purpose.
One important constituency unique to colleges and universities are the sports fans. Any president of a big public university who is not a visible supporter of athletics is in trouble. As the former president of the University of Texas at Austin Peter Flawn wrote in his primer for university presidents, “If you are a sports enthusiast and enjoy intercollegiate athletics, so much the better; if you are not…fake it.” When I arrived in 2002, there was a sense on the part of many Aggies that the university’s athletic program was stagnant—they were right; it was not well run—and, most important, the football program needed to be reenergized. My first fall, I replaced the athletic director and, at football season’s end, fired the head coach. As I told the media, I had overthrown the governments of medium-size countries with less controversy. Nonetheless, I had shown that I took athletics seriously, thus winning over another constituency.
A Passion for Leadership Page 16