Into the Storm

by Dennis N. t. Perkins

  These patterns may change over time, but the research becomes more intriguing when we think of social media as a metaphor. As the researchers point out, “It's easy to see that, just like your neighborhood restaurants, each social network has its own culture and behavior patterns. By understanding the simple characteristics of each social network you can publish your content at exactly the right time to reach the maximum number of people.”2

  Few of us rely on social media to communicate with members of our immediate team, but the central point remains. We are most likely to get our point across and cut through the noise by tailoring our messages to the audience. And it's worth taking the time to understand what works for individuals and for the team as a whole.

  While there will be some individual differences, one thing is frequently overlooked: the positive impact of personalizing communication. In the increasingly sterile world of e-mail, blog posts, and Twitter—or the equivalent in your organization—messages seem to blend together. In-boxes fill up with requests, demands, and complaints—or needless CCs and REPLY ALLs. Over time, it all becomes a blur.

  In spite of this information blizzard, changes in a few phrases or a sentence can dramatically alter the impact of an e-mail. The same core message, written in slightly different ways, can produce widely differing reactions. We know what we intend to say, and we think we are saying what we mean. But the message actually received can be quite different than the message we intended to send. Much can be lost in translation—sometimes with unintended negative consequences.

  For important written messages, I ask one or two colleagues to take a look at what I've done and give me their impressions. In one difficult situation, for example, changing “I know you were upset” to “My sense is that you were upset” made a big difference. It softened the message, and it turned out that I hadn't read the situation properly. I overstated what I thought I knew, and the original wording would have been presumptuous.

  For busy people who are stressed, this extra effort may seem excessive. But tailoring the message and adding an element of warmth contributes to a feeling of mateship. The messages of one colleague—who somehow manages to reply to my e-mails within ten minutes—almost always leave me with a smile.

  He is a very senior executive in a large global organization, yet he finds a way to respond in a personal way. The topic of our discussion may be serious, but a simple “Cya soon” concludes on a warm note. However challenging the situation, I always look forward to seeing him soon.

  Although the workplace is moving inexorably toward virtual communication, the most personal way of connecting continues to involve direct contact. I am always struck by the contrast between a face-to-face meeting and an e-mail or phone conversation—especially when there are conflicts or when tough messages need to be delivered.

  In those difficult situations, it is fast and convenient to text or leave a voice mail. If meeting in person is out of the question, other video-conferencing options—such as Skype or Face Time—can be used. But there is no substitute for looking a team member in the eye and speaking authentically. These direct conversations may be difficult to arrange and harder to manage. But when tensions are high, the most direct path to resolution almost always involves face-to-face communication.

  Warn people below deck about big waves

  People above deck in a storm are exposed to the elements—but they know what's going on, and they can see what's coming. People below have a different set of challenges. As Chris Rockell noted:

  Being below in the storm was both a bit of a blessing and a curse.

  You're certainly warmer than the people up top. But you can't see what's coming. The only way you have any idea about what's ahead is when the guys up top are warning the helmsman that a big wave is on its way. I could hear those cries as well. And it gave me a signal that it was time to hold on and make sure I didn't fall off the bunk.3

  As Chris described the experience of being trapped below deck, I couldn't help but think of the parallels I have seen in organizational settings. There are team members in a position to know what's coming—the good and the bad. They are the first to get notice about impending changes and problematic issues. And they may or may not remember what it's like for team members who are metaphorically down below.

  With the noise of the storm, the Ramblers had to yell, “Big Wave!” And they also banged on the side of the cabin to alert the crew down below to brace for the next onslaught. That unmistakable warning made all the difference. It kept the crew connected and helped ensure that their teammates had enough time to brace and hang on.

  Warning others about big waves is important for team members in any organization. And those on deck who have greater visibility need to constantly be aware of their mates down below.

  Reach out to those at the helm

  Although people on deck had the advantage of seeing the big waves that were coming, they didn't have the full picture. People below had other sources of information—information that was vitally important to the people on deck steering the boat.

  Michael Bencsik recalls:

  The information that people had below deck was quite critical—particularly when we found out through the radio about the things that were happening around us. People below needed to relay what they knew to the people who were on deck so they understood the weather conditions ahead of us, and what was happening with other boats like the Sword of Orion. Even if the news wasn't positive, at least the people on deck had the full picture.4

  So the Ramblers down below had important information that those on deck needed to do their jobs. And, just as people on deck needed to bang on the cabin to warn about big waves, people below had to take the initiative as well. They passed along essential news about the weather, the fate of other boats, and other information that only they could hear.

  In some cases, the metaphor of crew above and below deck corresponds to levels of organizational hierarchy. People in less visible positions may be reluctant to intrude on those above. But every member of the team sees a part of the picture. It is the responsibility of each team member to take the initiative and to stay connected with their mates in other parts of the boat.

  When the situation calls for it, break protocol

  The Sydney to Hobart Race has well-established procedures for scheduled check-ins—or skeds, as they are called. Each boat is authorized to report only its latitude and longitude, and transmissions are broadcast in alphabetical order. This information gives the coordinating vessel information about the safety and location of each racer, but other data that might give anyone a competitive edge is off limits.

  During the 1998 storm, Rob Kothe—the owner of Sword of Orion— realized that the conditions he was encountering were extraordinary. At the 2 p.m. sked on the second day of the race, Kothe took the unusual step of requesting permission to report on the weather. And Lew Carter, who was coordinating the skeds from the radio relay vessel, authorized the departure from protocol saying, “Sword of Orion, I would appreciate that for ourselves and all the fleet.”

  Kothe then broadcast his alarming message: Sword of Orion was experiencing wind gusts of 78 knots. This warning helped alert other boats to the severity of the situation. And it framed Carter's message to the rest of the fleet, as he requested “that all skippers, before proceeding into the Bass Strait…give utmost consideration to what you're doing and talk with members of the crew.”

  For the benefit of others, Rob Kothe decided to break protocol and cut through the noise of the storm. But he was not the only skipper who made that choice. Earlier that day, Doctel Rager reported severe weather ahead with gusts over 70 knots. And shortly after that, three other boats—Secret Men's Business, Wild One, and She's Apples II—also broadcast warnings.

  There are times when normal communications procedures and channels are simply insufficient to ensure that important messages get through. If the information is important and the noise of the storm is high, team members need to do
things differently—think creatively, even break protocol so that others are alerted to critical information.

  Navigation Points

  1. Have you taken the time to think about the most effective way to reach individual members of your team? Have you considered their preferred communication styles and patterns?

  2. How effective are your communication methods for the full team? Are messages sent in ways that keep people connected and encourage collaboration?

  3. Does your team draw on a combination of techniques to ensure clear communication?

  4. Are face-to-face meetings and conversations used to deal with important topics or emotional situations?

  5. Do people on deck—in positions with greater visibility—reach out to warn those below about oncoming problems and issues?

  6. Do people below deck take the initiative to communicate with people topside?

  7. Are team members willing to break protocol, or devise creative or unusual methods, to ensure that their messages get through?

  37

  Step into the Breach

  Strategy #7

  Find ways to share the helm.

  Steering a boat through a furious storm is exhausting work. The concentration and stamina required to maneuver through howling winds, towering waves, and drenching downpours takes an immense physical and mental toll.

  Steering a team through other kinds of adversity—economic setbacks or tight deadlines, for example—can be just as strenuous and emotionally draining. Without some kind of support or relief, the burden can be too heavy for one person to carry. Rather than rely on one person's heroic efforts, teams at The Edge need to draw on each other's strengths. They need to share the load.

  Sharing the load involves two different but related concepts. The phrase stepping into the breach is perhaps best known because of Shakespeare's play Henry V. With England at war with France, King Henry encourages his countrymen to step “unto the breach” by attacking a gap in the walls of a fortified French city. In combat, stepping into the breach can mean plugging an opening in a defensive perimeter. When applied to business teams, stepping into the breach means finding a gap in the performance of the team, then taking the initiative to fill it.

  Team members on a sailboat can share the helm by taking turns steering the boat. In other teams, individuals can figuratively share the helm by providing direction or helping in other ways. This distributed leadership can be extremely effective, taking the burden off the formal leader and spreading the load.

  Tactics for Teamwork at The Edge

  Scan for gaps in team performance and fill the holes

  After his “hard or squishy” self-examination, Chris and the other Ramblers were satisfied that the injury wasn't life-threatening. But Chris was prohibited from climbing back on deck and standing his watch—so there was a key role that needed to be filled.

  Gordon Livingstone stayed on the rail without complaint, filling in for his injured teammate. Ed Psaltis describes the scene:

  When Chris was injured, Gordon was sitting up on the side of the boat. I was so busy doing my steering that I wasn't even aware of him. Gordo sat there on the rail for hours without complaint. Even one hour in those conditions was tough physically, but he never complained.1

  Why did Gordo do it? Because he was part of the team, and he was determined to stay there until someone told him to move. There was no “Come on, guys, give me a break.” He was simply determined not to budge until someone told him to budge. He was not going to be a weak link.

  Gordo finally asked politely, “Hey, Ed, do you reckon I might be able to go down below now?” But when he saw the gap left by Chris’ injury, Gordo had been more than willing to pitch in without complaint.

  Monitor your own stamina and that of your teammates

  Gordon had filled the void created by Chris’ injury, but there was another gap that needed to be plugged: a system for managing the crew under the extraordinary conditions. Ed was completely focused on getting over the mountainous waves, and no one was thinking about crew management. When Arthur realized what had happened to Gordo, he thought:

  We've got to get a grip because we can't go on like this. Ed had been sailing far too many hours, and the thing that struck me the most was that the storm is getting worse, and we're in daytime. What happens when it gets to be nighttime? We're going to need our best sailor, and Ed is our best helmsman in these conditions. We've got to rest him during the daytime, because the last thing we need is to have him fatigued at night.2

  Arthur realized that the crew was not being managed well and that Gordon had suffered because of it. That insight was the catalyst for creating a new system that would spread the load more evenly. Arthur felt that there were three people capable of steering the boat and three who were capable of wave spotting. Both roles required different skills, but people needed to be rested to do either well.

  Arthur took the initiative and spoke with Bob. They discussed a watch system that would give Ed some time to rest. They would also limit others to an hour on deck with two hours down below. With the new system, the Ramblers were able to have a fresh wave spotter and helmsman on deck at all times.

  By monitoring each other's limits, the Ramblers saw the gaps and took action to fix the shortfall in crew management. The new system was critically important to their survival. It was a psychological boost to know that their time in the maelstrom was limited to an hour. And the new system meant that they were going to be physically ready for their exhausting jobs and capable of dealing with the storm.

  Find out what people can do before the storm hits

  Everyone on AFR Midnight Rambler had a clear understanding of their teammates’ abilities. Many had sailed together for a number of years, and even those relatively new to the boat were intensely scrutinized during the ramp-up to the race. Ed Psaltis was the principal helmsman, but Arthur Psaltis and Bob Thomas had also shown their skill at steering. When the critical point of decision came during the storm, Ed had confidence that others could take the helm and give him some relief.

  On boats with crews that have had less time working together, it is still possible to let people try different positions—and to see how well they perform. Some skippers make a point of systematically letting each crew member steer to assess their skill at the helm. With these trial runs in relatively calm conditions, the skipper and crew are able to inventory the full range of their capabilities.

  I've sailed on boats where crew members are given a chance to show their stuff, and I've sailed on others where important tasks are limited to a select few—the people who are close to the skipper. Their capabilities, and their limitations, are a known quantity.

  The problem with this approach is that newer members of the crew may have talents that are overlooked or unappreciated. In some instances, I've seen team members with limited skills given preference over others who were more talented but untested. The result of this narrow selection process was poor race performance—and frustration on the part of those in the crew whose abilities had been overlooked.

  Leaders may feel more comfortable assigning tasks to members of their inner circle. But this insular approach fails to account for the full potential of the team. Under normal conditions, playing favorites will result in subpar team performance. But in crisis conditions, an inability to draw on the full potential of the team can be disastrous.

  The implications for Teamwork at The Edge are clear. Teams need to provide opportunities for newer or untested members to demonstrate their skills in safe waters. Junior partners, for example, can do presentations, show what they are capable of, and get coaching from more experienced team members. Over time, these opportunities for broader participation encourage initiative, increase motivation, and—ultimately—strengthen the team.

  Be willing to let go

  In the middle of the storm, Ed Psaltis thought to himself, “I'm at the end of my tether.” Yet it never occurred to him to ask for help. He was focused on only one t
hing:

  I was intent on steering the boat, because this was life and death stuff. If you get this wrong, people are going to die. It wasn't that I didn't care about other things, but I didn't have time to think about them.3 Ed wasn't going to tell the crew, even though he knew he couldn't keep going on like this. He felt that there was no one else who could steer the boat.

  When Arthur came up to confront his brother, he interrupted Ed's fixation on driving the boat. Arthur's confidence that he and Bob could steer, combined with his insistence that Ed had to get off the helm, was persuasive. Still, in the middle of the storm, Ed needed to take his hand off the tiller and let go.

  The process of letting go can be difficult. It can be hard for a team leader to let others step into a leadership role and provide direction. It can be hard for any team member who excels in a particular role to let someone else “give it a go.” But to develop the full capability of the team—to bring other resources to bear on a problem—people need to move out of their familiar space. They need to take their hands off the tiller—to let go of something at which they excel. Letting go may not be easy. But for teams that aspire to the highest level of performance, it's a skill that needs to be mastered.