All posts by Dorothy Nesbit

Strategic thinking: what does it look like in practice?

Developing as a leader, Developing leadership across your organisation, , ,

On Monday, I wrote about strategic thinking in my post Developing your strategic thinking.  But what does it look like in practice?

Now this, in my view, is often quite challenging to identify.  Why?  Well, there are several reasons.  Firstly, we’re told that strategic thinking is rather difficult to do (and yes, perhaps it is) and yet, in practice, a great strategic thinker makes the complex quite simple so that his insights are hard to spot.  Secondly, the great strategic thinker often sees things ahead of others.  When he or she first has an idea it may be seen as sheer lunacy by others who haven’t seen it yet.  In hindsight, it may seem rather obvious.

Some of the issues and ideas in the Western world that reflect the strategic thinking of our forbears are in the social rather than the business realm.  Who in the Western world would question the idea that slavery should be illegal?  How many people would really believe in 2011 that women should be denied the right to vote?  How long will it be until same sex marriage, or women priests or inter-racial adoption are just non-issues?  For this reason, insights into strategic thinking can be found in many historical speeches (as well as insights into how to share a vision in ways that are compelling).  Writing this article I made a note, for example, to get my hands on A Call to Conscience:  The Landmark Speeches of Dr. Martin Luther King.

The business world is equally littered with stories of famous business people whose predictions, with hindsight, look utterly ridiculous.  One of the most famous of these was by Thomas Watson, Chairman of IBM who, in 1943 said “I think there is a market in the world for maybe five computers”.  More recently, Ken Olson, president, chairman and founder of Digital Equipment Corp., is said to have said in 1977 “There is no reason anyone would want a computer in their home”.  It took Bill Gates to turn this round and to hold the vision of a computer in every home.  (And as I write, I wonder how many people might say “What, only one?”).

One example of strategic thinking in practice was supplied by my colleague in the coaching profession, Emma Chilvers.  Emma offered a link to an extract on YouTube from the film Other People’s Money – follow this link to see just one example of strategic thinking in practice.  From the business world, I was struck by Ray Anderson’s response to questions from his customers about what his company, Interface Carpets, was doing to support the environment.  Anderson went from not having an environmental vision for his company to having a vision for his company which recognised unequivocally the need to manufacture products in ways that are totally sustainable.  Anderson speaks of his personal epiphany in the DVD The Corporation, itself a visionary film.  You can also see what Anderson says on YouTube by following this link.

And how do you develop your ability to think strategically?  Keep reading!  I’ll be offering some thoughts on how to develop your skills in this area over the coming days.

Developing your strategic thinking

Developing as a leader, Developing leadership across your organisation, , ,

Recently I have been assessing candidates for senior roles – a steady trickle of leaders who have their next (and often more senior) role in their sights.  Over time, as well as seeing the unique strengths and areas for development of each individual, I am starting to build a view of the patterns across all the candidates.  One area has particularly intrigued me – the area of thinking strategically.

Now, “strategic thinking” is a rather awkward term, not least because you find as many definitions as you find people talking about it.  Some people think of the kind of deep and detailed analysis that major companies make when they invest in the support of the McKinsey’s of this world.  Some people think of the level of decision-making they like to delegate just one or two levels up the chain.  So, for my purposes in writing, it seems important to define the term.

First things first, I am talking about a behaviour – or more properly a cluster of behaviours.  In particular, I am talking about the ability some leaders have to take a long-term and holistic view of the sum of activities for which they are responsible, setting clear direction based on an understanding of their internal and marketplace context as well as their aspirations for the future.

In truth, whilst the need to think strategically is particularly apparent in an organisation’s most senior roles, it exists from the beginning of our careers.  Early in our careers, for example, it is the difference between executing a task and seeing the full range of tasks for which we are responsible and the context in which we conduct them.  In our first supervisory role, it embraces the need to understand the full range of tasks to be executed by those we supervise and the impact they have on other areas of the business.  With each elevation to a new role the scope of our thinking needs to expand if we are to be truly effective – I often think of people in new roles as needing simply to raise their heads a fraction to achieve a new line of sight:  looking more broadly at the context in which they are working and a little further ahead.

Why is strategic thinking so closely associated with leaders at the most senior levels of an organisation?  Perhaps because, at more senior levels, leaders take on responsibility for deciding on the direction of the organisation and the implications of that direction for the work others do and the way it is structured and organised.  And in what way is strategic thinking more challenging at these levels?  In truth, strategic thinking is about the underlying ability to absorb and process diverse and increasingly complex data, crystallising it into core themes.  It also involves going beyond what is known and certain to make informed guesses about what is possible in the future.  My goodness it looks simple when leaders do it well!  At the same time, the levels of cognitive ability required increase as we take on larger and more senior roles.

But what if you need – or want – to develop your capacity to think strategically in preparation for success in your new role?  This is a question that one client posed in a recent debrief following an assessment and a question I’ll be exploring in the coming days.  I’ll be sharing my ideas – and I hope you’ll share your ideas, too.

We will remember them

All articles

11am on Friday, 11th November, 2011.  In many places there is silence right now, as people remember those who have died in war.

Growing up with this ritual, I found it meaningful to remember those who had died in what we call the First and Second World Wars with the intention of recognising the horror of war and of seeking to avoid war in the future.

Now, it pains me to reflect on how much war there is now in the world and how Great Britain’s politicians have been proactive in embarking on conflict at the expense of many lives.

This is what I reflect on right now.

Simple tools for stepping up to the next level in your new job

Developing as a leader,

Finally, you’ve got the job you were after.  Your (current, or maybe new) employer has seen in you the characteristics they are seeking for the next level of senior management.  Now, you need to work out what those characteristics are.

Maybe you have the support of a mentor or an HR department – of someone who can offer you a clear job description and behavioural competencies.  Maybe not.  Either way, you can do worse than use the consultant’s old favourite – the two by two grid – to take stock of where you’re starting from on your path to establishing yourself as an effective player in your new job.

It works like this.  You create a two by two grid and, along the top, you write (left hand column) “senior managers do” and (right hand column) “senior managers don’t”.  On the left hand side you write (top row) “I do” and (bottom row) “I don’t”.  Then you can brainstorm, taking care to think about which box each behaviour belongs in.  The resulting grid highlights four areas:

  • Strengths you can leverage in your new job (top left).  These are the behaviours you have already developed that are well matched to your new role;
  • Areas for development (bottom left).  These are behaviours which, if you invest in developing them, will  help to position you in your new role and to increase your personal effectiveness.  As it happens, some of them may be quite simple for you to develop – unrealised strengths.  Others may be less natural to you;
  • Behaviours to let go of (top right).  These are things you do and which may have served you well in previous roles.  Now though, it’s time to let go of them or to convert them into strengths in your new role.  Converting existing behaviours into strengths happens when you are able to take a behaviour to the next level and in this way to adapt it to the needs of your new role;
  • No go areas (bottom right).  These are things you don’t do and which people in your target role don’t do either.  You can ignore them for now – unless they hold some kind of attraction to you.  If they do, you may need to find new ways to meet the needs these behaviours have met for you in the past.

Overall, your answers in the grid offer the basis for a quick-view assessment of your readiness to excel in your new job as well as the basis for more detailed developmental planning.  I offer an example below – and I wish you success in your new role!
Senior Managers Do
Senior Managers Don’t
I do
·        Establish clear and challenging goals for the area under their control
·        Provide clear responsibilities to staff and hold them accountable for results
·        Put in place clear processes for managing risk in the team
·        Do things themselves that they could delegate to their staff
·        Get lost in the detail of individual initiatives and lose sight of the overall agenda
·        Let staff ‘delegate upwards’ and determine the agenda
I don’t
·        Influence effectively – socialising ideas individually before presenting them at meetings
·        Establish a clear vision for their area and communicate it to staff
·        Think about who’s best placed to do what in the team and allocate roles or tasks accordingly
·        Celebrate success with their staff
·        Take the credit for the work of their staff
·        Hang out in the pub with their staff – except on carefully chosen occasions

On shame and guilt

Emotional Intelligence,

It’s a few days since I wrote about Milton Rokeach’s book The Three Christs of Ypsilanti and something is lingering with me still.  It takes a while to trace it back to Rokeach’s book and then, in turn, to its final pages.  Nor do I find it all in one place with a neat quote to share.  It is the difference between the feelings of shame and guilt.

Rokeach, sharing conclusions towards the end of the book, highlights the difference between two (whom he names Clyde and Joseph) whose feelings of shame seem to be linked to a sense of incompetence.  The third (whom he names Leon) has feelings of guilt which seem to be linked to forbidden impulses and the striving for goodness.  Something about this distinction is sitting with me.

Perhaps the quote I seek is contained in the final paragraph of Rokeach’s Afterword.  He says:

“I found out from my “teachers”, the three Christs of Ypsilanti, exactly in what sense they were trying to be God-like.  They were striving for goodness and greatness, and such strivings, I came to understand, are really the strivings of all human beings.  The main difference between the three of them and the rest of us who are also striving to be God-like is that whereas the rest of us can bring ourselves to admit the impossibility of our ever becoming absolute or infinitely moral or competent, the three Christs found it difficult to admit such an impossibility.  Nonetheless I learned that what all of us have in common with the three Christs is that we all strive to maintain and enhance our self-conceptions and self-presentations as competent and moral.  This is one of the major ways in which humans who would be Christ or Christ-like are distinctively different from other human beings”.

As I write I reflect on the implications of what Rokeach says.  It seems to me, for example, that having made this distinction, our feelings of guilt and shame can guide us to our deepest yearnings towards goodness and greatness.  And when the emotional charge is high, there is scope for us to understand the underlying beliefs we impose on ourselves and perhaps the disproportionately high expectations.

Equally, as leaders, observing such feelings in others, we are able to make finer distinctions for understanding that feelings of guilt reflect yearnings to do good, whilst feelings of shame reflect yearnings to be competent.  If we know what our staff may be telling themselves, including those things of which they may not be consciously aware, we know better how we might respond.

More deeply still, I notice that reflecting on this distinction stimulates compassion in me for self and others.  For surely such feelings reflect not only our yearnings and strivings, but also a lack of acceptance of – and compassion for – our fundamental human nature.

I wonder, what does this posting stimulate in you?

Great expectations

Emotional Intelligence, ,

Yesterday I wrote about beliefs in a posting about Milton Rokeach’s wonderful, touching and thought-provoking book The Three Christs of Ypsilanti.  This book raises an issue which is present in all our lives – the seemingly intractable nature of some of beliefs.  I am thinking especially of those beliefs formed in childhood which continue to have a strong emotional resonance and often to hold us back, even when our thinking brain knows they are irrational and has every proof that it’s time to let them go.  Thinkers in the field of neurolinguistic programming (or NLP) have coined the term “limiting beliefs” to describe such beliefs and offer techniques for changing or out-framing them.  These are the beliefs that, quite simply, hold us back.

Recently, the issue of limiting beliefs turned up for a client in one of our coaching sessions.  Positioned in a new and senior job she reported significant progress across a number of areas.  Everything was on track.  Why then, I wondered, did she not seem more happy and optimistic?  When I explored this with her up came a stonking great limiting belief: roughly, if I celebrate my successes and expect too much (hence “great expectations”) it will all go wrong.  As part of our discussion, she recognised that if only she could celebrate her successes more she would feel less anxiety about the future and be more relaxed.  Still, knowing this was not enough to allow her simply to let go of her old belief.  (It rarely is).

There are all sorts of ways to respond to a limiting belief.  One way, for example, is to act as if it isn’t true – in the words of Susan Jeffers to feel the fear and do it anyway.  Using this approach implies, in this case, taking small steps to notice and celebrate each success as it comes.  The benefit of this approach is that, over time, we have real experiences that demonstrate our old belief is not true.  This is about beginning to walk new neural pathways.  Another way is to demonise the part of us that holds the belief, calling it our “gremlin” for example, subjecting it to ridicule and, in this way (or so the theory goes) laughing our limiting belief right out of town.  Perhaps you can guess that I’m not a great fan of this approach, both because I prefer a more compassionate approach and because I’ve seen how often the limiting belief, banished in this way, continues to exercise a powerful force in the lives of the very person who has dismissed it as rubbish.

At the same time, part of making changes is to recognise that you don’t have to have all the steps to your end goal mapped out in advance.  Sometimes it’s enough to know that you don’t want your life to be circumscribed by the power of a limiting belief and to ask yourself, if this is my end goal, what might be my next step?  This question draws on the wisdom of the person who is going to make the change.  For me, a useful first step when it comes to limiting beliefs is simply to get curious – not with the aim of changing or suppressing your limiting belief, but simply to understand the territory you’re in.  To this end, I offer some questions to ponder next time you find yourself bumping up against your own limiting beliefs:

  • What is the belief you’re holding?
  • What is the impact in your life of holding this belief?
  • What more might be possible if you didn’t hold this belief?
  • What part of you is holding this belief?
  • What does it want for you?
  • What relationship do you have with the part of you that’s holding the belief?
  • What relationship do you have with the belief itself?
  • Was there ever a time in your life when you remember not holding this belief?  When?
  • Does anyone else in your life (especially but not only family) hold this belief?
  • What is it you’re really wanting in relation to this belief?
  • What else do you know about this belief?
  • What more does this belief want to tell you?
If you’re willing to share, please use the comments section to tell us about your limiting beliefs – from your experiences of successfully moving beyond the limitations of an old belief to your experiences as you play (yes, play) with the questions above.

 

Reflecting on the nature of human beliefs

Emotional Intelligence,
“Every man would like to be God,
if it were possible;  some few find
it difficult to admit the impossibility”

Bertrand Russell
Power

Some things have to be done.  So for me, no good holiday is complete without seeking out the best book store in town and having a root around.  This is one of the things I did in New York recently when I visited the wonderful Strand book store, which boasts 18 miles of new, second hand and rare books and the tag line where books are loved.

Often I come away from my book shopping experience with books I have been hankering after for a while and this was no exception.  In addition, I also came away with a book which was new to me – though by an author known to me – Milton Rokeach’s The Three Christs of Ypsilanti.

Rokeach was a social psychologist practising in the US in the middle of the twentieth century and with a particular interest in beliefs and values.  In July 1959, Rokeach brought together three men at the Ypsilanti State Hospital in Michigan, who had all been diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenic and each one of whom believed himself to be Christ.  Rokeach’s interest in the nature of beliefs and values was such that he wanted to study the impact on the three men’s beliefs about their identity of meeting with other men who also purported to have the same unique identity.  Rokeach and his colleagues worked with the three men for a period of two years, organising regular meetings between the men and observing the men’s responses.

Many years later, writing an Afterword in 1981 to the book he had written in 1964, Rokeach had cause to reflect on the nature of his experiments, recognising that he, too, had played God in the way that he imagined he could change the men by “omnipotently and omnisciently” arranging and rearranging the men’s daily lives, expressing some regret that he had not seen this at the time he first wrote the book and sharing his growing discomfort about the ethics of the experiment he had conducted all those years before.  It does, indeed, seem unlikely that such an experiment would be conducted today by Western scientists.  It seems to me that this fact serves to highlight rather than to diminish the book’s value.

Rokeach approaches his task from the point of view of the theoretical scientist, beginning, for example, by making some theoretical distinctions about different kinds of beliefs and ending – even in his afterword – by sharing key learnings.  His aim in conducting his experiment was to test some of those beliefs, which he did.  Even so, it’s striking to me that his book serves to bring the reader into close contact with the three men he studied.  It is by no means easy to understand the way they view the world and still, I found myself responding to them with compassion – that is, a fellow feeling with three men seeking to make their way in the world.

Throughout the book, Rokeach underlines how the delusions adopted by the three men serve a purpose even though we may not know what that purpose is.  As it happens, their beliefs are sufficiently far from reality that it’s easy to dissociate ourselves from these men.  At the same time, for me, Rokeach’s study serves to illustrate how we form certain beliefs in response to our early circumstances and how we continue to maintain those beliefs long after our original circumstances have changed.  It also highlights to me how a belief does not sit in splendid isolation in the human psyche.  Rather, it is part of a system of beliefs which are inter-connected.  To change one belief is to open up the need to change other beliefs that are connected.  This issue affects not only the three Christs of Ypsilanti.  Rather, it is one with which we all grapple.

I write more about the nature of beliefs elsewhere.  For now though, as I write, I am sitting with the experience of reading a book which is, in some ways, the most intimate of books.  It is a study about three (perhaps four) real men.  And as we read about those men we get to see glimpses of ourselves.

If you don’t play your music, who will else will?

Developing as a leader,

Amongst life’s many pleasures is lunch with friends, sometimes professional friends.  And sometimes one thing leads to another as it did last Friday.

Let me tell you first of a series of synchronicities that have taken place over time.  In 2008 I found myself sitting next to a man at a seminar.  He didn’t stay for the full duration but we spoke briefly and exchanged cards.  I had no idea at the time that this man, Len Williamson, would go on to become a trusted and valued friend.  Via Len I went on to meet some of his trusted friends, including Emma Chilvers (look out for mention of Emma in the coming days) and Cees Kramer.

Over time I have come to realise that Cees’ work with an organisation called Dialogos in many ways chimes with my own interest in aspects of communication.  On my recent trip to New York I finally bought William Isaacs’ book Dialogue and The Art of Thinking Together:  A Pioneering Approach To Communication in Business And In Life and I’m looking forward to reading it soon.  Meantime, I was curious about Cees’ invitation to an evening on Friday with long-time contributor in the field of leadership, Canadian Michael Jones.  I accepted the invitation gladly.

Let me confess that I had not heard of Michael Jones (at least, not of the Michael Jones in question!) until I received Cees’ invitation.  I was intrigued to hear of someone who combines his own particular style of piano playing with talking about leadership.  Listening to Michael speak on Friday evening I was also struck by his gift for telling stories and in this way revealing some of the deeper truths of our lives.

One story had particular resonance for me.  Michael, a pianist from a young age, nonetheless found himself working in the field of leadership.  Playing the piano had taken second place.  At a business event when the hotel he was staying in was quiet Michael spotted a piano and spent some time playing – a mix of classical repertoire and his own creations.  After a while he became aware of an elderly man emerging from the not-as-empty-as-he-thought lounge, shuffling slowly towards him.

The man asked Michael what he had been playing and Michael listed the names of the composers whose music he had played.  “No, not that – the other stuff”.  It became apparent to Michael that the old man was asking him about his own music.  The old man quizzed him about his own music and, learning that this was something Michael played only for his own pleasure, encouraged him to share it with a wider audience.  “If you don’t play your music”, he asked, “who else will?”  This question stands as an invitation to us all and implies another invitation, too:  to recognise the music in our lives that only we can play.  If you don’t play your music, who else will?

As I write I am enjoying the feelings of gratitude to Cees for extending an invitation to join him in the intimate setting of Bridewell Hall to enjoy Michael’s talking and playing.  I wonder, what does this brief glimpse of Michael’s work evoke for you?

And in case you’d like to find out about Michael’s work you can learn more at www.pianoscapes.com.

The missing dialogue

Developing as a leader, Emotional Intelligence,

Just before I turned off my Blackberry at the beginning of my flight to New York last week I picked up a message from my friend Len Williamson about an article he is planning to write.  It’s called The Missing Dialogue.  I reply and ask him, can I share his thoughts on my blog?  I’m pleased to pick up his yes as I land at Heathrow on my return.

Len points to the work of a number of thinkers in this field – David Bohm, Bill Isaacs, Daniel Yankevich – and highlights the phrase from JMW (Len, who is JMW?) – “all that is ever needed is a conversation”.  He also notes how easy it is to fail to have those conversations we most need to have.  On a teleconference with clients he hears three missing dialogues being played out and reflects on the pain and expense of failing to hold the dialogue.

In his brief sketch for his article Len writes:


The missing dialogue is the one that has the most potential to reduce stress in your life, move you towards meeting your goals and help you to fulfil your potential.  Everyone has at least three missing dialogues and most have many more.  The three you will have will be at least one at home with your partner, one or more at work with your colleagues and at least one at play with your friends.  The dialogue is missing because you avoid it.  You avoid it to protect yourself and others from the assumed consequences of having the dialogue.  Paradoxically, this avoidance creates stress for you as you do not follow the path you want to take.  It also holds you back from progress towards your goals and it limits your potential.  This paper shows it is possible to have these missing dialogues in a way that does not lead to all the fears you have about the consequences of doing so.

This is a rich topic.  I agree that all sorts of people fear the possible outcomes from conversations and I notice how this keeps people from dialoguing with themselves – let alone each with other.  I notice how much people lack skills in this area and how, even when people have skills and choose to open up the dialogue, this offers no guarantee of a constructive response.  In my own life I increasingly put out the invitation even when I believe there will be unwillingness or lack of skill on the part of my partner in dialogue:  whatever the response I know more as a result of opening the dialogue than I did before.

One dialogue that is often missing in key relationships in the workplace and elsewhere is this:  how shall we dialogue with each other?  As a regular reader you already know how much store I lay by establishing ground rules for dialogue in a wide range of conversations.  Sometimes these are ground rules I follow myself and which help me to stay centred and on track in the most difficult of conversations.  In some relationships I have agreement to a shared set of rules – amongst fellow practitioners of Nonviolent Communication, of Neuro-Linguistic Programming and of the Skilled Facilitator Approach (and because I’ve written about all three on this blog I have created links to the library of postings in each area).

I wonder, what are the missing dialogues in your life at present?  I encourage you to take time to identify and reflect on them and, if you feel bold enough, to share one or two of them here.  I also wonder what this subject evokes for you and what more you’re interested to know.  Please leave your comments as a way of supporting Len in writing his article.

Embracing my inner diva

Emotional Intelligence, ,

Hurrah!  I’m here.  Today I have my first rehearsal in New York for two concerts.

In recent days I have been sharing a joke or two with clients about coming to New York to indulge my inner diva.  I recognise that it’s only relatively recently that I have felt comfortable to own the diva within, because of the negative associations I have with the word.  I remember, for example, singing a number of years ago in a concert with Jessye Norman.  The choir and orchestra members were banished from our normal backstage areas in order to keep our humble germs out of Ms Norman’s breathing space.  This, surely, was the behaviour of a diva.

Today I take a moment to reflect.  What does it mean to be a diva?  I turn to Caroline Myss, whose book Sacred Contracts highlights the presence of archetypes in our lives and explores their implications for our learning.  One of the key messages I took from Myss’s book is that each archetype has a light attribute and a shadow attribute – if you like, the power to do good or the power to do harm in our own lives and to the lives of others.  I was sufficiently intrigued by Myss’s theory that I bought her Archetype Cards and I take a moment to look for the card which relates to the diva.  I am disappointed when I find none.

I turn next to Roger Hamilton’s book Your Life Your Legacy, in which he explores what you might also term archetypes in relation to generating wealth.  I know that one of these archetypes is the first cousin of the diva – the star.  And I also know – because I have completed Hamilton’s on-line diagnostic – that my own star energy is high, second only to my creator energy.  Turning to the brief initial descriptions of each archetype, I read The Creators set the stage, the Stars steal the show.  This, I think, begins to tell me something about my inner diva.

Applying Myss’s concept of the light attribute and the shadow attribute to Hamilton’s description of the wealth profiles I begin to explore the two sides of the diva.  The origins of the word diva are, of course, in the Italian word for a female deity – a goddess.  More recently the word has come to be applied to – as Wikipedia currently has it – a celebrated female singer.  Hamilton says of the star:  Stars get their most valuable feedback in the limelight, and find their flow while on their feet.  As a result, they are able to evolve their attraction on the fly, and it is their personal magnetism that is their greatest value.  The essence of the star is to create a unique brand which attracts others and in this way to touch the lives of many.  For the diva this unique brand centres around singing and performance.  Building on Hamilton and Myss, I recognise the role the diva plays in stepping into the limelight and shining a light out into the world.  She is there to express herself through her singing and in this way to inspire others.

What then, of the shadow attributes of the diva?  The diva in her shadow side can seek to eclipse others for personal gain.  Or she may compromise herself in some way, failing to express her unique brand and in this way eclipsing herself and depriving others of her own kind of leadership.  Perhaps the heart of the shadow attributes of the diva is, by failing fully to embrace her inner diva, to keep herself or others small.

I think back to that backstage experience of Jessye Norman and recognise that it’s not always comfortable to be around a diva, even when she’s doing what she needs to do in order to perform.  Perhaps my own inner diva was challenged in the presence of someone who was so fully embracing and living out her diva identity.

If my own fate includes a strong dose of the inner diva, I wonder, what about yours?