How to be an outstanding leader whilst also being yourself

Developing as a leader, Emotional Intelligence, ,

A few days ago as I walked through my local supermarket I caught a glimpse of an interview quote, inviting the reader to buy a magazine in order to learn more.  The quote was something along the lines of “I won’t cut my hair, because it’s who I am”.  It could equally have said “I won’t change my clothes/ adapt my accent/ take the ear-ring out of my nose…” and many more things besides.  I found myself thinking “No, these things are not who you are.  They’re ways you choose to express yourself”.  Several days after I walked past this magazine, I realised that the headline was pointing me to an important truth for those of us in leadership positions:  we can be outstanding leaders AND be ourselves.  At the same time, we need to be clear on who we really are.

Why is this important?  At one level it’s about fashion in the world of leadership:  it’s so fashionable to be “authentic”.  If you pop the words “authentic leadership” into your search engine you’ll find all sorts of scholarly articles and theory.  A number of authors have written books on the subject.  It’s in vogue on the discussion groups on LinkedIn.  At another level, authentic leadership draws our attention because the challenge of being an outstanding leader whilst also being true to ourselves is one that exercises people in leadership roles – many people at some point in their leadership career find themselves grappling with what appears, on the surface, to be an irreconcilable dichotomy.

Take Jurgen, for example.  Promoted at a young age into a senior leadership role, Jurgen looked around him and formed a view of what it meant to be a leader in his organisation.  He started to adopt the behaviours of his peers, especially those he admired.  In his tough-talking, fast-paced organisation he started to adjust his style to make sure his staff were in no doubt what was expected of them and what the consequences would be if they didn’t deliver the results expected of them.  He reduced his focus on people and increased his emphasis on results, identifying key projects, making plans for each project, allocating work amongst members of his team and tracking results.

Jurgen thought he was doing the right thing but he quickly discovered it wasn’t working.  It wasn’t working because his colleagues – previously his peers and now members of his team – seemed to be offering less cooperation than before so that achieving results was getting more and more difficult.  He didn’t know it but it wasn’t working in the eyes of those who had recruited him either, who expected he would bring a softer approach than other members of the senior management team, in line with their aspirations for a less “macho” and more emotionally intelligent leadership style.  Above all, it wasn’t working for Jurgen because it felt deeply uncomfortable – it just “wasn’t him”.  Jurgen felt like an imposter in the role, because he didn’t feel comfortable doing it the way others were doing it and he thought this was the way it needed to be done.

Jurgen took the initiative to organise a coach, who helped him to understand that he could be himself and still be an outstanding leader.  He developed a statement of values in which authenticity was key.  He dropped the persona he had adopted when he first stepped into his role in favour of an approach that was more natural to him.  It seemed like he was on track.  At the same time, when I met Jurgen a few months later, I noticed that I had a suspicion about some of Jurgen’s behaviours – it seemed possible to me that some of the behaviours he identified with as an expression of his authentic self dated back to a time in his early life and had not been examined since.  He thought he was the person who was always kind to people and he was – but he didn’t know why or even what kindness meant to him.  In moving away from the leadership persona he had adopted to a more “authentic” way of being, Jurgen had stepped into a set of unconscious behaviours which, in turn, were not always effective or even truly him.

Meeting Jurgen prompted me to identify and share some of the things I have seen leaders do who have learnt to be highly effective whilst also remaining true to themselves.  Here are just a few of them along with a few words about how Jurgen has applied them:

First, set your intentions

Jurgen set an intention to be authentic in his role as a leader and, following our conversation, added his intention to continue to develop as an outstanding leader.  This set up what you might call an inner dialogue as he started to explore what it meant to be both.

This was coupled with being clear about his intentions in specific situations, for example when he had to address a performance shortfall in a member of his team.  He sensed that being an outstanding leader in this situation meant addressing the issue and bringing it to a resolution – to an improvement in performance or to the recognition that his team member wasn’t in the right job.  At the same time, he also wanted to embody his core value of kindness and compassion.  He set the intention to explore how he could address the issue with kindness and compassion whilst still bringing it to a clear resolution.

Then, discern between your intentions and the means by which you achieve them

Jurgen realised that in attempting to be kind to his team member, he had been holding back on addressing the issue at all.  He’d let his team member flounder and he’d stood back and watched as colleagues became increasingly frustrated at the levels of performance they witnessed.  As the annual appraisals season approached, Jurgen knew he would be basing his year-end performance rating on behaviours he witnessed but not discussed with his team member.  The more he looked at his approach, the more he realised that it was anything but kind, even though kindness was at the heart of his intentions.

Once he had examined the effects of his existing approach, Jurgen was in a better position to explore what different approach he might take.  At this point, it made sense to him to ask more experienced colleagues how they handled this kind of issue.  He discovered that those he most admired were most likely to address the issue head on.  He also discovered that they were the most skilful in the way they framed the issue.  This gave him the basis for a different approach which was still consistent with his core value of kindness.

Ask yourself, “is this really me?”

Jurgen went one step further, and took time to examine why kindness was so important to him.  In doing so, he became aware of the extent to which he’d taken on a value of his mother’s – sometimes even at his own expense.  Examining his value in this way helped him to decide both to keep this value and to re-frame it.  He decided he needed to include kindness towards himself as an essential part of this value.  He likened it to the oxygen mask in the plane – realising he had to put on his own oxygen mask before helping others.

Jurgen started to develop the habit of examining his beliefs about himself and found that, sometimes, the outcomes surprised him.  He discovered some beliefs he decided to let go, realising he had thought they were his own and finding they were not.  As a result and, over time, he developed a stronger and deeper understanding of himself and greater confidence and self belief.  It seemed paradoxical to him at first and still, alongside this greater sense of self, he found he was less attached to doing things in particular ways – he became more flexible in his approach.  And as he became more flexible in his approach, consciously adapting his behaviour to meet the needs of the situation as well as thinking about what it meant to be authentic, he found his effectiveness as a leader improved.

How about you?  To what extent is it an aspiration you hold:  to be both authentic and effective in your role as a leader?  And how consciously do you explore what it means to be you?  How open are you to new insights about yourself – how conscious are you?  Please share what comes up for you in the comments.

It’s official: compassion by leaders increases productivity

Developing as a leader, ,

In case you haven’t already signed up to Harvard Business Review’s Morning Advantage, here’s another sign they have come up trumps again – a link to an article on the role played by compassion by leaders in boosting productivity and business results.  Morning Advantage puts it this way:

What separates great companies from the rest of herd is the compassion of its leaders, according to one new study detailed by Knowledge@Australian School of Business.  Many of us will readily agree that the best managers tend to be great motivators and promoters of success. But compassion may have a bigger impact than we think. In the 77 organizations studied, researchers saw a direct relationship between compassion and productivity — and profits. 

But being compassionate doesn’t mean avoiding difficult situations. As leadership expert Geoff Aigner found in his own research, the biggest road block managers must overcome is their reluctance to engage in tough conversations for fear of being unkind. This is a common mistake, confusing compassion with kindness, says Aigner. Leaders who truly care about the development and growth of their employees are able to push through the awkwardness, and tell it straight. 

I was surprised by the definitions of compassion offered by two thought leaders in the area and still, it does not surprise me that research supports the idea that compassion boosts productivity.  As a student of Marshall Rosenberg’s Nonviolent (or Compassionate) Communication my own experience is that compassion is an essential ingredient in forging strong relationships and provides a basis for some of the essentials of leadership, including effective coaching and the kind of ‘tough’ conversations to which Morning Adantage refers.  For this reason, I regularly reference Rosenberg’s teachings here on my blog.

But back to the article I mentioned above, do read it – whether you have doubts about such a claim or want to learn more.

There is one claim made in the article which challenges my thinking – it certainly merits further investigation.  The writer says:

A surprising outcome of Boedker’s research is the finding that, out of four levels of leadership from the executive level through middle management to frontline managers, it’s the lowest level of leaders that drives a company’s profitability. Perhaps, Boedker surmises, this is because frontline managers are more customer-facing than others and therefore have a lot more impact.

I wonder, what’s the truth of this assertion…

Struggling to stop working?

Emotional Intelligence

My brother was in Japan for a few months at the turn of the year where habits of working way exceed our own.  Where else but Japan has a word (Karoshi) for ‘death by overwork’?  The International Business Wiki reports estimates of 10,000 deaths a year from Karoshi in an article on Japanese Work Ethic.  So prevalent is this issue that some companies are warned to reduce the number of hours worked by their employees.

So I was intrigued, a few months back, when the Harvard Business Review’s Morning Advantage included a brief article entitled Want to Play?  It included the reminder that, in 1930, John Maynard Keynes made two predictions about economic growth:  that living standards in “progressive countries” would be four to eight times higher by 2030 (he was right) and that workers would enjoy a 15-hour working week (…mmm… didn’t he get that one wrong?)  Morning advantage points to an essay in Jacobin by Mike Beggs, who offers a number of explanations for Keynes’ miscalculation.  Here’s what they say:

“Theoretically, we could spend our increased wages by choosing to work less, as Keynes predicted, but we don’t.  Instead, we choose to spend our excess cash on commodities – which seems irrational since all of us complain about our lack of free time.  So why don’t we make choices that maximise our pleasure? Well, it’s not so easy, especially since our work habits – productivity over play – are the result of social norms.  A shift to more free time can happen, Beggs notes, but only if it’s a ‘collective one’.”

HBR also points to the possibility of a different future:

“Take HBR author Leslie Perlow, whose research shows that productivity increases at companies that make planned and uninterrupted time off a top priority.  Everyone wins, right?”

I notice how much I resonate with the idea that many of us spend more money on commodities even whilst yearning for more free time.  And yes, it is irrational, because we are not, fundamentally, rational beings.  We don’t always know why we are working so hard – or we have an idea of our reasons for doing so which does not stand close examination.  Equally, we don’t always know why we buy what we buy.

So, on the eve of this Bank Holiday, you might like to take a moment to reflect on the hours you are working and notice – really notice – why.  Notice the things you are telling yourself.  Go deeper and ask yourself, and what does that do for me?  And again, and again, and again… if you do this with openness and curiosity you may be surprised at the needs you are trying to meet and at the emotions – tender, vulnerable, sweet emotions – that accompany new insights…

…Or perhaps, you might want to commit to three days without work.  Each one can be just as good.

Covey’s second habit: start with the end in mind

Developing as a leader, Emotional Intelligence, , ,
Photo by Bill
From http://signsoflife.goose24.org/?sign=124

When I learned last month of the death of Stephen Covey, author of the seminal book The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, I committed to re-read his book and to write a posting about each of his seven habits.  Returning to his book I am reminded of chocolate mousse – it’s so rich you don’t want to eat too much at a time.  So, a month after I wrote about his first habit, I am taking a few moments to write about his second.

Covey’s first habit, “be proactive”, is about taking responsibility for our own lives.  His second habit, “start with the end in mind” is about writing the script we want to follow.  As Covey puts it in this chapter:

“Begin with the end in mind” is based on the principle that all things are created twice.  There’s a mental or first creation, and a physical or second creation to all things”

and later:

And if I do this, day after day my behaviour will change.  Instead of living out of scripts given to me by my own parents or by society or by genetics or my environment, I will be living out of the script I have written from my own self-selected value system.

Writing as a coach, it’s easy to say that much of Covey’s material in this chapter has been written about elsewhere.  NLP offers a model for outcome-oriented rather than problem-oriented thinking, for example.  The film and book The Secret have been immensely popular amongst seekers of wisdom and new insights.  Laura Whitworth and colleagues in their splendid introduction to coaching, Coactive Coaching, offer exercises which are the embodiment of Covey’s second habit and which have become familiar to coaches and their clients around the world.  Indeed, Covey himself readily acknowledges his own sources throughout the book.  To recognise the fact that ideas in this chapter can also be found elsewhere takes nothing away from Covey, who has organised core ideas in a way which illuminates them.

He begins by inviting readers to write the eulogy they would like to have read at their funeral – this really is beginning with the end in mind.  When we engage deeply with this exercise, it provides a powerful context for our decisions and our actions.  This is not just about manifesting the physical possessions we desire:  it’s about understanding the overall context of our lives and the role individual desires have in this context.  It seems unlikely, for example, that a new Mercedes will feature in our self-written eulogy.  The love of friends and family, the contribution we made through our work – these are amongst the things that we may look back on.

Covey also invites people to create a personal mission statement, a statement of our vision and values and how we intend to enact these in practice in the different roles we hold in our life.  He contrasts a life lived in line with this level of personal clarity with one which is guided by centres outside ourselves – the young person for whom friendship is so important that s/he will do nothing that might offend, the executive whose commitment to work is such that s/he constantly prioritises work over family, even the person whose focus is on some kind of enemy.  As I write, I do so with compassion, recognising how much the shift from such external centres to operating from a set of clearly defined personal values is a journey in itself.  (I shared my values on this blog in 2009, and though I revisit them periodically, they have not changed much in the interim).

Given Covey’s recognition that “all things are created twice”, it’s not surprising that he dedicates space in this chapter to visualisation and to affirmations as the means by which we can increase the quality of our first creation.  He also recognises the importance, in the context of both family and organisations, of participation in creating a mission, vision and values which have the full commitment of everyone involved in delivering them.

Covey’s ideas in this chapter are highly practical – writing your own eulogy, writing a personal statement of mission, vision and values, involving members of your family or organisation in writing a shared mission statement.  I could say more about each exercise in turn but this seems to be gilding the lily:  for now I invite you, simply, to try at least one of these exercises and to let me know – how did you get on?  

For your holiday reading: The Hare With Amber Eyes

About Dorothy

It’s two years since my dear friend, Len Williamson, recommended a book I had not yet heard of – Edmund de Waal’s The Hare With Amber Eyes.  Of course, having been recommended to read it, I started to notice the window displays of this book, the winner of the 2012 Costa Biography Award.

My first response was to dip into the book and, discovering the book’s focus on a set of Japanese netsuke (tiny carved figures that would sit easily in the palm of your hand), I think immediately of my brother Alan, whose years of working with a Japanese company have made him a willing student of Japanese culture and language.  So, 18 months or more before reading it myself, I gave it to Alan as a gift.  More recently, I bought my own copy and started to read it, discovering far more than I had imagined in this biography of de Waal’s family, mediated via the journey of the netsuke through generations of the Ephrussi family.

Early in the book I am transported into familiar territory – it was Charles Ephrussi who first assembled the collection of netsuke in Paris in the second half of the 19th century.  Charles lived amongst artists and writers with whom I am familiar via my own studies so that I am transported back to the literature I loved so much in my late teens and early twenties.  I am intrigued to learn that Charles was one of two men who were the model for the book’s subject, Charles Swann.  There is something about this period of the netsuke’s lives that brings to life in a very vivid way the era in which Proust was writing, anchoring his work amongst the work of other writers and artists.

When the netsuke move to Vienna – as a wedding gift to Charles’s cousin Viktor and his wife – I am similarly transported into the territory of my studies, gaining new insights into the work of Robert Musil, Arthur Schnitzler and other contemporary writers.  De Waal writes of the opulent lives of his forbears in ways which remind me of his own life as one of the world’s leading ceramic artists – there is something about his use of language which renders it almost physical, as if one were feeling his words in one’s hands.  As well as writing an intimate portrait and memoire of his family, De Waal captures the sweep of history as it unfolds.

And it does unfold, into the territory of twentieth century anti-Semitism and warfare.  I did not expect to make this journey, though it makes perfect sense when I do – how could it be otherwise for de Waal’s Jewish ancestors?  Charles’ cousin Viktor invests heavily in the war effort in World War I, only to have his life and fortunes over-turned in the horrifying events of World War II.  Suddenly I am in a reading territory which has become familiar to me (through such books as Katrin Himmler’s The Himmler Brothers and Christopher Browning’s Ordinary Men) only this time, I am seeing it through the eyes of those who were the target of Nazi violence and anti-Semitism.

There are moments throughout the book when de Waal’s reflections of his own experience of researching his family history remind me of the great therapist and author, Irvin Yalom, who has the same ability to be present both to the subject of his writing and to his own response to those things – people, events etc. – he writes about.  It is these moments that help me to connect with de Waal and to connect the history I have so often read about elsewhere with real people whose lives have been so materially altered by historic events.

If you want some thriller to keep you company on the beach this book is definitely not for you.  For me it was a rare and unforgettable read.    

When it’s time to harvest your dreams

Emotional Intelligence,

I’m away on holiday this week – on the day this is published I shall be tucked away in Kent on a five-day meditation retreat.  It will be good to turn off the mobile for a few days and to leave all sorts of modern technology behind for a few days.

Preparing for my holiday I wanted to give you something to read whilst I’m away, and decided to borrow the photo above from my dear friend James More.  James and I were briefly at school together and had something in common – farming.  My parents farmed and James also came from a farming family and has gone on to make his career as a consultant to farmers under the name More Rural Consultancy Ltd.  Recently, James was involved in a successful attempt to create a new World Record – with fifty Case Quadtracs (that’s big tractors to you and me) spending five minutes ploughing just one field.

As a farmers’ daughter, this event touches something in me – a part of me which is deeply connected to the land.  But there’s more than this – this successful attempt at a World Record was the fruit of a vision.  I don’t know much about the vision, but I do know that someone had the vision and, having had it, set about making it happen.  This meant finding a suitable site and farmers willing to travel from across the country to join in.  It meant inspiring them to join in.  And it meant handling all the bureaucracy that is involved arranging an official (and yes, in this case, successful) World Record attempt.

If you’re on holiday, too, and even if you’re not, it’s harvest time.  This is a time when you can look at the fruits of your labour and say, it happened because I followed my dream.  It can also be a time when you look forward and ask yourself, what are my dreams for the future?

May your dreams be worthy of you.

When it’s time for the big leadership speech

About Dorothy, Developing as a leader,
Singing Berlioz’s Grande Messe des Morts
St. Paul’s Cathedral, 2012

Thursday, 2nd August, 2012.  It’s a date that members of the London Symphony Chorus have been urged to earmark.  It’s a date that some have been waiting for.  Simon Halsey, recently confirmed as Chorus Director for both the London Symphony Chorus and the London Symphony Orchestra, is due to address members of the chorus.

I come to the meeting with both excitement and trepidation.  I am excited because I remember the standard of the chorus when I first joined and yearn for a return to the same high standards.  I am trepidatious because I am not as young as I was when I joined the choir in 1986/7 and I’m wondering if I have what it takes to commit – this is both about the “will I pass my reaudition?” question (and in my case, “should I be moving to sing with the altos?”) and about the time and commitment the choir has demanded.  It’s quite something to sustain this level of commitment year after year after year.

Starting at 6pm, Simon addresses the choir for about half an hour before taking questions.  He sets out his stall in terms of aspiration – in summary, that the Chorus under his leadership will be a world class choir that consistently produces staggeringly (I think the word was staggering) good performances.  He has also anticipated questions, and lays out his stall in terms of how he thinks we might get there – this is not the time for the big cull, but rather, a time to invest in voice coaching and careful preparation.

This doesn’t mean that every question has been answered.  So, when it comes to the question that is on many lips (reaudition), Simon is candid in saying that, whilst he has yet to agree an approach to reauditions with the Chorus’s council, he won’t be reauditioning existing members of the chorus until he has worked with them for a number of months.  He talks about the approach he has taken with other choirs and also about the principles which underpin his approach.

Listening both to his speech and to his answers to questions, I notice that I am excited and reassured.  I have such a sense of relief that our new Chorus Director has aspirations for the chorus that take us beyond our (albeit rather good – at times) current standards.  I am excited when I think of the possibilities that this opens up for us and I am excited about the possibilities for me.

There’s also something else going on for me, remembering the many leaders I have interviewed over the years who have started their tenure in a new role or organisation with the ‘big speech’.  Halsey is continuing a long tradition which embraces leaders of all kinds, from teachers in the classroom (“when I tell you to put your pencils down, I also want you to stop talking and listen to what I have to say”) to the CEOs of significant organisations and yes, to men and women who have made history.

The big speech is not about charisma or grand, sweeping gestures – it’s about substance.  It’s about setting out a vision for the future which engages and a way to get there.  It is an invitation to sign up to a clear direction or to notice that this is not your path – to commit or to stand down.  It says things are going to be different – and this is how.

Of course, as such, the vision is the beginning of a journey.  Its impact depends on the leader’s commitment to making that journey.  Ahead lies the difference between real progress and “we’ve heard it all before”.

I am looking forward to making real progress.

Yeah! It’s holiday time!

About Dorothy

I had a sweet moment on the London underground last Thursday, when I had the briefest of brief encounters with this man.  Walking slowly in one direction amongst crowds of commuters seeded with Olympic visitors, I suddenly recognised him coming the other way.  Before I even realised I was smiling, he beamed back.  And then he was gone as we both moved slowly forward and in opposite directions in the crowds.

And in case you don’t recognise this man, he’s Burt le Clos, father of South African swimmer Chad le Clos.  As if his son’s victory wasn’t enough (against le Clos’s swimming hero, America’s Michael Phelps) audiences were moved, both by le Clos’s barely contained emotion as he received his first gold medal and by his father’s impromptu interview with BBC’s Clare Balding which, memeburn reports, has quickly become an internet sensation.

London is gripped with Olympic fever.  And despite everyone’s worst fears (wrapped up as cynicism and criticism) it’s all going well.  The fact that I have had to negotiate a bit of a round London tour to get from the underground to London Bridge’s Platform 4 is amply compensated by tiny moments like the one above.  I knew they would be.

In the next couple of weeks I shall be taking time off to enjoy these and other experiences.  As I write – ahead of my holiday, though scheduled to be published as my holiday begins – I am thinking, I can’t wait!  So this is my ‘sign off’ for the next couple of weeks.

Just in case you want some reading, I’ve programmed some postings for you to enjoy whilst I’m away from my desk.  Have a great time.

When you need permission to see the wood from the trees

About Dorothy, Clients and testimonials, , ,

Every now and then I like to do something that coaches call ‘claiming a client’.  It’s a bit like asking someone you fancy to join you on a first date – letting someone know that you’d really like to work with them in coaching partnership.

In 2007 I reached out to an organisation whose service I have enjoyed for more years now than I care to remember:  Pret a Manger.  I wrote to the company’s co-founder, Julian Metcalfe, and told him how much I would like to contribute to the company’s success in my role as a coach.  As a result of reaching out I was asked to work with Glenn Edwards as part of his ongoing development.  Glenn has been Operations Director at Leon Restaurants for over 18 months now, though I first met him whilst he was still working at itsu – Pret a Manger’s sister company.  He had already had eight years with itsu when I met him and had built a strong relationship with Julian Metcalfe and with Clive Schlee, the company’s CEO.

Even so, when I started to talk with Glenn, I sensed that there was a risk for him of seeking to grow faster than was comfortable with itsu and I started to ask questions to find out what was going on.  As you can tell from Glenn’s later CV, he did indeed end up leaving itsu to join a growing brand which shares the Pret/itsu passion for good fresh food and for a level of service which, together, drew me to Pret a Manger in the first place.  (Recently, Pret’s new restaurant on New Oxford Street has become a regular haunt for members of the London Symphony Chorus before rehearsals.  You’ll often see me there on a Wednesday or Thursday evening at around 6pm).

The conversations I had with Glenn are an example of something coaches face on a regular basis – the possibility that the outcome a client and/or his or her sponsor most desires is not, ultimately, the right outcome for everyone concerned.  An individual may think his place is in such-and-such a role or with company X and still, when he looks more deeply, the role is only a partial fit to his or her most heartfelt needs.  The company concerned may want to retain a key member of the team and still – if only his or her manager will entertain the possibility – it may be that what’s right for my client is to move on.  This carries the risk for the coach of being seen as the agent of an unwelcome change.  It carries the risk for the coach that – by raising the question – he or she will be seen to be sure of the answer (which is always the client’s to determine).  Still, and even in the full awareness of these and other risks, it is the role of the coach to raise the questions that have not yet been countenanced, bringing them to consciousness for the client to consider.

Meeting with Glenn more than three years after we completed our coaching, I was curious to know how he looked back on our work together as well as how he was getting on in his new role.  He was kind enough to tell me and agreed to allow me to share his thoughts on LinkedIn as well as here on my blog.  He told me:

“When we finished our work together I honestly didn’t know how I’d benefitted from coaching.  A lot of things happened during and after coaching and yet I wasn’t making the link.  Later, I realised that the message from coaching was this:  it’s time to move on.


I realised I’d maximised my potential with itsu – coaching helped me to see it was time to move on.  I’d met the owners of Leon when they visited one of our restaurants so once I was ready to move it was the most natural thing in the world to make contact.  Working with itsu was formative for me – an important part of my career.  At the same time, I needed a new challenge and the opportunity to leverage my strengths to make a real difference to the business.  I’m glad to have found that with Leon.


Sometimes, people need the help from someone who’s one step removed from the situation.  You provided that through our coaching – and that’s why I’m happy to recommend you to others who need help to step back and see the wood from the trees”.

Glenn Edwards
Leon Restaurants

Reading Glenn’s testimonial I don’t want to take any more credit than is mine to take – at its best, coaching works because it helps the client to open up to truths that are already there if only the permission is there to see them.

(And yes, in case you’re wondering, I remain a fan of Pret a Manger, of itsu – and of Leon Restaurants, too).

Preparing for longer working lives: time for a revolution in the way we work?

All articles, Developing leadership across your organisation,

Every few weeks I write a blog posting for Discuss HR.  The posting below will be published today:

Recently Nick Hewer and Margaret Mountford, who have both served alongside Sir Alan Sugar in the BBC’s Apprentice, explored what it might take for people to continue working into their 70s in The Town That Never Retired.  I found myself wondering to what extent the HR profession is at the vanguard of shaping a way of working in the future which reflects the life expectancy of modern British men and women.

I confess that, for purely personal reasons, I have long been interested in the question of what happens as people get older.  Not surprisingly, my interest starts at home:  I was just 18 when my parents retired, my father aged 70 and my mother aged 51.  My mother, who had always managed home and family as well as working alongside my father on the farm, continued to thrive whilst my father struggled to adapt.  Years later, when he was well into his 80s or maybe even 90s, my father continued to make references to his contribution to the family as a farmer, as if his sense of identity was still vested in his bygone work.  My mother, on the other hand, continued to bring up her children, looked after her parents in their old age and then my father in his.  She has been a church warden for many years, organised an annual concert for 25 years, still organises the bookstall in the monthly village market and even – now aged 81 – continues to cook for the “old folk” at the village lunch club.

As an amateur singer I have also had cause to be aware of just how well some people thrive well into their old age.  I sang under the baton of Leonard Bernstein until he died in 1990, aged 72.  In 1997, I was deprived of the opportunity to sing under the baton of Sir Georg Solti when he died shortly before a concert, aged 85.  I am pleased to say that Sir Colin Davis continues to delight in his 85th year.

But what about corporate Britain?  Some employers have long since cottoned on to the value of older employees.  As early as 2001 The Grocer ran an article entitled Asda and Sainsbury take a positive view of older workers.  The article highlights how, in response to the then government’s Age Positive Campaign, Sainsbury “now offers arrangements which allow older staff to reduce the hours they spend at work gradually, and a new pension plan which allows staff to contribute until they are aged 75”.  In my own local Sainsbury it was Norma, who must be about 70 years old, who served me a few months back on the day that snow had caused travel chaos and staff were still struggling to get in.  I value the older staff in my local supermarket because they have an ease in interacting with people of all ages and experience of using the products they sell – which is sometimes obviously lacking amongst the “youngsters”.

As I sit and muse I realise I do have a vision, albeit barely considered, of a way of working which takes far greater account of the needs of workers and the natural rhythms of life.  For young people there might be opportunities to work longer hours to earn that elusive mortgage deposit.  For parents there might be opportunities to work less and spend more time with children.  For older people there might be opportunities to work shorter hours whilst still making a valuable and valued contribution in the workplace (and, yes, earning a living).  Perhaps, in time, there will be a degree of choice throughout our careers which supports employees in contributing to their place of work and to their family.  To put it another way, the more we need people to work well into their 60s, 70s and 80s, the more we need to design ways of working throughout people’s careers that support health, fulfilment and longevity.  We also need to do our research – one interesting fact from The Town That Never Retired is that research shows, in a way that may be counter-intuitive, that employment prospects for young people are better when older people work longer.

As you’ve no doubt already discovered, I don’t have all the answers, but rather want to ask the questions.  My main question to you is this:  as an HR professional, how far ahead are you looking and how do you envisage the future for the older people of this country?