Sometimes, testimonials come totally unsolicited as a joyful surprise. This is one of them, from Rob Mesrie on Facebook BranchOut.
I confess I didn’t know BranchOut existed. I do, though, know Rob. During our work together as volunteers for Ian McDermott at ITS’ NLP and Coaching trainings, I came to hold Rob with high regard. I count him as a dear friend and join him as a member of the mutual admiration club.
This is what he wrote:
“Top rate coach. Never falters from creating a space that gives you access to a way of thinking you had never even considered.”
All posts by Dorothy Nesbit
The “bad manager” discussion – revisited
Recently I shared my response to an on-line discussion entitled What is a sign that you have a bad manager? The discussion goes on with many people (393 responses so far) willing to list the many signs. Today, I decided to write again, as follows, in response to this thread:
I feel so down-hearted as I read this thread because I have such a yearning for compassion towards ourselves and others – including those fellow human beings who agree to take on the role of manager. I am not experiencing that compassion here.
What needs are we trying to meet by engaging in a discussion in which we list all the behaviours we don’t enjoy in a “bad” manager? And how effective is this strategy in meeting those needs?
In particular, I wonder how much of our own power we give away when we see the problems we have in the workplace as down to a “bad manager”. For example, when Irfan says a bad manager is someone who “makes you feel mediocre regardless of how well you perform” it seems to me that he is attributing responsibility for his feelings to another person. He could instead recognise that his feelings arise from his own response to the actions of his manager (the thoughts he has when his manager behaves in a certain way – it’s my belief that his own thoughts stimulate his feelings). I believe this is a more empowering response for us as people being managed and a more compassionate response to our manager.
And if this is a strategy we are using in relation to our managers at work I am guessing that we might also be using it with our spouse, our children, our siblings, our parents… the list goes on. I wonder how much unhappiness is created by this kind of discussion.
I wonder, how does this response land with you? And would you be willing to share what needs you are meeting in this discussion and how well?
Your MBA in entrepreneurship – in just 5 minutes
Recently, I came across an article by Scott Adams, creator of “Dilbert”, highlighting some of the learnings he took from studying entrepreneurship at Hartwick College in Oneonta, NY. Adams’ article reads like a short MBA and is entitled How to Get a Real Education.
The source of this link was Roger Hamilton, author of Your Life Your Legacy: An Entrepreneur Guide To Finding Your Flow. Hamilton’s passion is reflected in the extract he chooses to share. His thesis is that we need more entrepreneurs if we are to generate the resources needed to address the key issues in the world and that, as individuals, we need to understand how we are designed to generate wealth. (Stay tuned if you want to learn more about this in future postings). The extract below, from Adams’ article, illustrates this neatly:
“There was a small business on our campus called The Coffee House. One day the managers of The Coffee House had a meeting to discuss two topics. First, our Minister of Employment was recommending that we fire a bartender, who happened to be one of my best friends. Second, we needed to choose a leader for our group. On the first question, there was a general consensus that my friend lacked both the will and the potential to master the bartending arts. I reluctantly voted with the majority to fire him.”
“But when it came to discussing who should be our new leader, I pointed out that my friend—the soon-to-be-fired bartender—was tall, good-looking and so gifted at b.s. that he’d be the perfect leader. By the end of the meeting I had persuaded the group to fire the worst bartender that any of us had ever seen…and ask him if he would consider being our leader. My friend nailed the interview and became our Commissioner. He went on to do a terrific job. That was the year I learned everything I know about management.”
This brief extract nails precisely the “square peg, round hole” syndrome that affects us all. As individuals, we struggle if we are trying to mould ourselves into a role that doesn’t suit us. As leaders, we will certainly have to deal with the same issue as it affects our staff.
I wonder, how is this issue showing up right now in your life and career?
The power of the enemy image
Monday morning. After five days away on retreat the first piece of news to filter through is the news of the death of Osama bin Laden at the hands of America in an attack against the compound in Pakistan in which he lived. The news and discussion in the following days has been endless and no doubt it will continue. It seems to me to be an event too important to overlook on my blog even whilst I wonder what to say. Finally, I settle on this: the power of the enemy image.
I am not talking here about current debate on whether or not to release photos of the dead Osama bin Laden. Rather, I am referring to what happens when we hold people as enemies in our minds. It seems to me that, regardless of the acts committed by another, to hold someone as our enemy carries many risks. Amongst these is the risk that we perpetrate all sorts of violence against others, doing things in relation to our so-called enemies that we would not do in relation to those we love and respect. In the end, we have to live with the acts we have committed, whether or not they were in some way “justified”.
The examples are widespread – universal even. Think of the parent who adminsters a slap alongside the admonition: “don’t treat your brother (friend, pet rabbit etc.) in that way!” Think of the customer who loses his or her temper in response to some act of perceived poor service, swearing and shouting at the person concerned. Think of the friend who, upset, tells all sorts of other people what’s wrong with the person whose actions have stimulated strong emotions. The examples are also abundant in the workplace. Think of the individual who, not receiving from his or her boss support for which s/he yearns and for which s/he hasn’t asked begins to form an image of the boss as some kind of monster and to talk to others of the boss’s failings. Think of the member of staff in our team who just isn’t producing the results we want and whom we begin to see as incompetent, lazy, stupid… And if it’s not the boss, or one of our direct reports, perhaps it’s our chief rival for a job (even the person who got the job we didn’t), John in Accounts, or IT, or, or, or… Of course, the acts of violence are often subtle rather than overt. They are in the way we think about another. They are in the way we talk about another to third parties. They are in the way we try to convey a message to another without openly stating what’s on our mind. The list goes on.
In writing, I want to share my compassion for everyone involved in this spiral. We do not know – though we may try to guess – what needs another is trying to meet or what prompts them to seek to meet those needs in a particular way. Still, every action they take – no matter how violent or incomprehensible to us – is taken with positive intentions. We, too, have positive intentions when we form enemy images of another in our minds or respond to violence with violence. And when we imagine for one moment that we are in some way justified in committing acts of violence, still, we have positive intentions. We are both perpetrator and victim. There are moments when we are the victim of our most basic biology: when, to use Daniel Goleman’s term, we are seized by an amygdala hijack. In these moments our perception of a threat triggers a fight-or-flight response which was designed millennia ago as a response to threats we no longer face and which, still, kicks in in the moment.
As powerful as such moments are, we have choices to make. We get to choose, provided we can understand the difference between stimulus and response. In the gap between “X is happening” and “I believe Y” there is the opportunity to replace violence with nonviolence and in ways which preserve the humanity and dignity of self and other. Either way, we lead by the choices we make. Osama bin Laden led – as best we understand it – when he chose to perpetrate acts of violence (including the 1998 American Embassy bombings, the 2001 attack against New York’s Twin Towers). He did so with positive intentions, seeking justice in the face of injustices, as he saw them, perpetrated by the United States against his fellow Muslims. Right now, those of us who would wish for a different approach get to lead by the responses we choose to Osama bin Laden’s death.
I wonder, what enemy images are you harbouring towards others in your life? And how do you choose to respond?
Coming back after a break
I am back at work today after a break. My niece was with me for two days before Easter, yearning for company and happy to potter in the garden and to curl up with me on the sofa in front of Finding Nemo. I spent Easter with family, enjoying the greenery and sunshine of rural Berkshire, the sound of the cuckoo as well as time with family members. I have been away on retreat, too – at Vicky Peirce’s Barn for five days – as well as seeing my brother Alan on the way and my cousin Charles on the way back. It’s been a packed time.
Emerging from five days on retreat I am stunned to hear news of Osama Bin Laden’s death: there is only one story right now. And in a completely different way, I am stunned by the performance of a newcomer in the world of snooker, 21 year old Judd Trump. Watching the last few frames of the game with my nephew Edward last night I enjoyed the play of both Trump and John Higgins (who took his fourth World Championship crown) and especially enjoyed the grace with which both players acknowledged each other at the end of the match.
Today I am preparing for a busy week ahead – catching up with new messages, e-mails etc. as well as what’s already in the diary. I have a proposal to write, a feedback session tomorrow with an executive I recently assessed for a senior role in his organisation, another assessment… I have a yearning for understanding from those who have been waiting to hear from me and who may have to wait a little while yet.
PS And yes, I did manage to take in a wedding whilst I was away – a particular wedding…
What is a sign that you have a bad manager?
Some questions are irresistible, such as the question “What is a sign that you have a bad manager?” on the Harvard Business Review discussion group on LinkedIn. It has been beckoning me for several days and today I responded to it as follows:
I offer this definition of hell: hell is believing there’s such a thing as a good (or bad) manager.
I’m not a great fan of labelling someone a good or bad manager. I believe it disempowers us to do so and guides the viewer to believe the situation is static and cannot be changed rather than a function of our experience and something we can take action to address. Also because it suggests that our experience is purely a function of our manager and his or her behaviour and omits to notice that we, too, are playing a role in our experience.
A key sign that something needs to change is when the person being managed is experiencing some adverse effects as a result of his or her interactions with his or her manager, such as loss of confidence, sleepless nights, risk adversity (when taking more risk is optimal), performance getting worse (and so on…).
It’s easy to look to the manager to make changes (after all, it’s the manager who is paid more, more senior, charged with the responsibility etc.). However, when we take this view, we are at risk of viewing our manager as the ‘parent’ whose role it is to meet the needs of our ‘child’. We are all adults in the workplace and we are all fallible even whilst doing the best we know how in a particular moment.
So, as much as I am passionate about my work to support men and women in the workplace effectively to discharge their roles as leaders, I invite anyone who is unhappy with their experience of their manager’s behaviour to notice their own contribution to the situation and to take action to change it. This often requires learning, sometimes very deep learning. Looked at from a spiritual perspective, the ‘bad manager’ is a gift to us in our learning journey, even though we may not initially recognise the gift that’s tucked away inside the wrapping.
I wonder, what is your experience in response to this question, both as a manager and as someone being managed?
Bringing the Italian to Britain’s shores
Saturday, 16th April, 2011. I am at Manchester’s Bridgewater Hall with fellow members of the London Symphony Chorus to sing Verdi’s Otello with Italian Conductor Gianandrea Noseda.
Whilst it’s not the first time I have sung Otello, it is the first time I have sung under Noseda’s baton. On Monday he joined us in London for our piano rehearsal. (This is the first time the choir and conductor come together to rehearse the piece before joining forces with the orchestra and soloists for the tutti rehearsals and then the concert itself). Noseda’s train from Manchester is delayed and our time with him is brief. It is, though, enough for us to realise that he is going to take this piece at quite a speed and also to experience his use of humour as a way to illustrate the points he wants to make. This is a rehearsal which stimulates curiosity and excitement. On Friday, we travel by train to Manchester – just as the City’s football fans are travelling south for a historic encounter in the FA Cup between Manchester City and Manchester United. We are in good time for our first tutti at the Bridgewater Hall.
Verdi’s music speaks for itself, addressing both light and shade in the turbulent story of Otello and his wife Desdemona. The early expressions of love between the two are balanced by the dark scenes that unfold as Otello becomes increasingly convinced of his innocent wife’s unfaithfulness and, ultimately, kills her in his rage. Throughout the story the audience has access to more information than any one of the characters and experiences the discomfort of knowing of Iago’s treachery, of Desdemona’s purity and innocence and of Otello’s susceptibility. Those of us who know the piece are looking forward to moments of poetry and drama, including the scene in Act 3 when Otello changes from loving husband to a man filled with rage, Desdemona’s response when her husband flings her to the floor in the same Act and, in Act 4, her expression of her premonition of her death and the famous “Willow Song”.
Even in rehearsal the soloists delight. Barbara Frittoli is convincing in the role of Desdemona and her voice is exquisite. Clifton Forbis (in the role of Otello) stimulates just a little jealousy amongst the tenors of the chorus for his fine tenor voice. Lado Ataneli (in the role of Iago) draws attention for his flamboyant acting and equally flamboyant hair. Any concert performance of opera has limitations and at the same time many moments are carefully staged to convey the drama of the piece.
There is another aspect to our experience for, whilst Noseda is new to us, he is well known to members of the BBC Philharmonic with whom he has been working since 2002 and tonight is his final concert in the role of Chief Conductor. You would not know this from the way he conducts for, as much as he brings humour – comedy even – to the process of rehearsal, his performance in the concert is totally committed. (So much so that his vocal expressions remind me of John McEnroe in his Wimbledon days). At the same time, at the close of the performance I watch Noseda kiss the score from which he has been conducting and embrace some of the key players of the orchestra, and I listen to the response of the audience as they applaud and cheer. It seems to me that there is an intimacy in Noseda’s gestures which is rarely seen on the concert platform, let alone more widely amongst leaders.
As much as Otello conveys the drama of our human lives, Noseda reminds us that to lead is to commit – to give ourselves fully to something even whilst knowing that we cannot predict the response of others, and in this way to be vulnerable in our visibility. This is leadership as an act of faith. And everything that makes us human is with us in this act of leadership, whether or not we dare to own it and to reveal it, willingly, to others.
PS If you’d like to hear our performance of Verdi’s Otello, tune into Radio 3 at 3pm on Thursday, 2nd June, 2011.
Seizing the initiative
One of the attributes – or competencies – of the highly effective leader is initiative. This manifests as the ability to spot a problem or an opportunity ahead of time and to take action to address it. Initiative requires a measure of thinking ability (spotting the problem or opportunity) as well as the dynamism to take action.
I was reminded of this recently when reading Sir Richard Branson’s autobiography Losing My Virginity, which contains many examples of this competency. Branson started his record business as a mail order business, for example, when he realised that students were spending a good deal of money on records and they didn’t like spending them at dreary and uncool retailers like WH Smith. When the business was almost ruined, in 1971, by a strike by Post Office workers, Branson did not wait and hope but set about opening the company’s first record shop, cutting a deal with the owner of a shoe shop to set up shop on the first floor.
Sometimes, seizing the initiative was itself what brought Branson close to ruin. This was true when, by accident, he discovered that he could increase his profit margins by buying records for export and selling them within the UK. Branson was arrested and taken to prison. His release on bail took place when his mother put up her home as security and Branson learnt an early lesson. As he put it in his autobiography: “I couldn’t believe it: I had always thought that only criminals were arrested: it hadn’t occurred to me that I had become one. I had been stealing money from Customs and Excise”.
Branson’s early initiative also reflected his empathy for others. At the age of just 17, he set up the Student Advisory Centre after helping a friend of his to have an abortion. He realised that there were many issues faced by students and wanted to provide support. Much later, the same empathy for others moved him to offer help to get blankets and supplies to foreign workers who had left Kuwait following its invasion by Saddam Hussein. Shortly after, he was able to leverage his contacts to make it possible to fly women and children out of Baghdad who were amongst the British nationals detained in Baghdad as part of Hussein’s “human shield”.
From a business perspective, my favourite example of initiative from Branson’s autobiography occurred when, in the depths of recession in 1992, the banks refused to lend Virgin the $10 million needed to install small video screens in the back of the seats of Virgin Airways’ small fleet of aircraft. With a little lateral thinking, Branson contacted Phil Conduit, CEO of Boeing and Jean Pierson at Airbus to ask if they could supply new aircraft with the seat-back videos already fitted at no additional cost. Both agreed. Branson then made some enquiries and found that it was easier to get $4 billion credit to buy eighteen new aircraft than it was to get $10 million credit to add the seat-back videos to their existing fleet of planes.
I wonder, where are you seizing the initiative? And what are the opportunities that are yours for the taking, if only you could spot them and act on them?
Seven tips for learning how to say no
Saying yes when you mean no can be the thief of time, energy, effectiveness and joy. Regular readers will know that I wrote about this on Wednesday this week. But what do you do when you know you find it hard to say no and want to do something about it? These are a few tips from me:
Tip 1#
Get clear about what you want to do with your time, including everything that’s important to you (from understanding your true calling right through to rest and recreation). It’s easier to know what to say no to when you know what you want to say yes to.
Tip 2#
Take time to clarify that a request is being made. Sometimes, requests sneak in through the back door – in the form of an instruction from the boss, for example, or a suggestion from your partner. E-mails, too, often imply the request to read and respond. Don’t be afraid to ask questions to find out what is being asked of you. This raises awareness for you and for the other person that a request is, indeed, being made, it raises your awareness of the true scope of what is being asked of you and it gives you time to think.
Tip 3#
When you receive a request, check in with yourself to see how it lands with you. Notice every aspect of your response, from your instant somatic response (from the sinking of the stomach to the gladdening of the heart) to the voices in your head (including the voice that uses such words as should and ought). Based on you initial reaction, is your inner response a yes, no or maybe?
Tip 4#
Take time to connect with your needs as well as with the needs of the person making the request. Your initial reactions (see Tip 3# above) will give you clues to your needs. I encourage you to notice those needs that you meet by saying yes when you mean no. These can include a need for acceptance – can you meet this need in other ways? Taking time to check in with your underlying needs gives you the chance to make the right decision rather than to make the first decision that comes to you and to regret it later.
Tip 5#
Be aware that people can meet their needs in many ways – asking for your help is just one of them. The more you understand this, the more you will find it easy to meet your own needs by saying no as well as yes.
Tip 6#
Don’t share your decision until you are ready to. Whether you are CEO of a major corporation, of your own small business or simply of your life, it’s OK to say, “I need some time to think”. This gives you time to check in with all your needs before you meet your need to contribute (and perhaps some other needs, too).
Tip 7#
Take time after the event to track your progress in learning to say no. Notice and celebrate the times when you said no and got it right for you – times when you might have said yes before and regretted it afterwards. Also notice with compassion the times when you said yes and came to regret it. This is a way of celebrating your progress and understanding what progress you still want to make in learning to say yes and no with ease.
Please leave your comments below. How do these tips land with you? Which tip is most helpful? Would you enjoy reading more tips on this and other subjects? And what tips do you have for others on how to say no?
Who’s driving your bus?
Some years ago a friend of mine, now retired, told me that when he took up a senior role in the head office of his company his colleagues warned him to “watch out, they’ll drown you in paperwork”. Never a fan of upward delegation, he had a stamp made for use when anything crossed his desk which he deemed inappropriate for someone of his seniority to handle. Effectively, it said: “I haven’t looked at this. Deal with it yourself”. He applied this to incoming mail before he returned it to sender.
I was reminded of this on Monday when my conversation with a coaching client highlighted the ability to maintain clear boundaries as a critical component in her plans to launch a new business. I know she is far from alone in this: our early socialisation combined with our natural desire to contribute positively to others can make it hard to say no to requests from a wide variety of colleagues, clients, friends and family.
This inability (by which I mean a lack of ability at this time, rather than a once and for all inability) to say no can lead to some interesting outcomes. The time we give to others is not available to pursue our own plans, for example. Perhaps we try to help others and to pursue our own plans and end up exhausted. Perhaps we start to feel resentful towards those who make requests of us even though it is our inability to say no that is causing problems. Over time we may experience a sense of imbalance in our individual relationships and even across all our relationships: we become a “net exporter” of help, advice and other support. Perhaps it is those people who make requests of us who determine the contribution we make rather than we ourselves (this can be a sure fire way to limit our contribution and to fail to achieve our true potential). We may even believe that this is the natural way of things…
It’s not just that we suffer from our inability to say no: in the end, there are consequences for those to whom we say yes when really we want to say no. They may well have a lingering sense of our underlying resentment even though they can’t quite name it. Or they may wonder when we mean yes and when we mean no, yearning for us to say yes when we can do so with a glad heart and hating the moments when they discover that the favour we did back then we did only with a sinking heart. Or perhaps they are oblivious of our needs, receiving our favours gladly whilst being unaware of their creeping dependence on us or of their lack of self belief.
And let’s be clear, there are plenty of people who will learn to look to us for help. They include family members. They include friends. They include our peers at work. They include those we lead (who can, indeed, become remarkably adept at delegating upwards).
Recognising that we find it hard to say no is a major step forward. Recognising that the problem is ours and taking responsibility for addressing it is also a major step forward. And still, the question of how to reach a point where we can say yes or no from a place of insight rather than as a reflex response remains. If you’d like some ideas please read my next posting. Meantime, what is your experience of learning to say no?