Why Good Managers Are So Rare
March 13, 2014 Leave a comment
Leaders who are truly effective are qualified, not by credentials or accomplishments, but by their character.
March 13, 2014 Leave a comment
March 12, 2014 Leave a comment
October 13, 2013 Leave a comment
The Character of Leadership Competency Model was developed through years of personal experience. It was influenced by the thoughts and ideas from a multitude of sources, and shaped by real world application in my role as a leader, influencer, and developer of people. I believe that the foundation of superior leadership is comprised of 5 essential core attributes – Character, Discipline, Humility, Courage, and Vision.
Naturally, there are also many essential behaviors that leaders must demonstrate. Good communication is most often noted as an obvious example. I certainly agree, however, this model is not intended to be a list of behaviors or habits. It’s far more a reflection of the values and belief system that superior leaders model in their both their personal and professional lives. These attributes represent the broadest measure of a leader’s effectiveness and success.
August 30, 2013 2 Comments
October 2, 2010 Leave a comment
Chances are you’ve at some point known or worked with someone who has endured a significant personal crisis. Perhaps it was a nasty divorce, a life-threatening personal or family illness, the loss of a spouse or child, or a similar life event that turned their world upside down.
I lost my father to a heart attack just weeks after I turned 17 years old and days before I started my senior year of high school. I can still remember the numbness I felt as I went to school that fall, surrounded by friends whose lives were blissfully unchanged while my own was irreversibly altered. But as difficult as it was, I persevered. It could even be argued that it was easy for me to move forward simply because I still had my entire life before me. But I doubt I considered that at the time. No, I persevered because there was simply nothing else I could do. I couldn’t reverse or change what had happened. Like it or not, I could only adapt and move on.
As bystanders – family, friends, and co-workers, we admire the strength of those who have suffered tragedy and yet are somehow able to keep going. Because we can only imagine their grief and anxiety, we marvel at their ability to continue doing the simplest of daily activities and can hardly understand how they’re able to keep coming to work or to class. The fact is, like me at age 17, they do it because there is simply nothing else they can do. They adapt and move on because there is no other option. They have no choice. Bills still have to be paid, mouths still have to be fed – the responsibilities of life don’t stop.
It’s human nature to sympathize with people in these situations, and there is nothing wrong with that. But I think it’s easy to confuse sympathy with admiration, and there is an important distinction between the two. At the risk of sounding coldhearted, to admire someone who continues to live and work after a tragedy is like admiring a sailor who swims after his boat sinks. Do we admire him for not giving up and drowning? Do we admire his courage? Truth be told, most of us probably do; after all, we’re inspired by stories of perseverance and love to cheer for the underdog. But again, what choice does he have? He can swim and live or he can sink and die – not much of a choice. It’s a simplistic comparison, but I think it relevant nonetheless.
The point I want to make is we have such a natural inclination to admire those who overcome tragedy, we often let it cloud the rest of our judgment about the individual. Specifically, it’s easy to confuse what we perceive as personal fortitude with the reality of professional effectiveness. Surely we’re inclined to assess the individual’s performance more generously in light of the adversity they’ve faced, and this is certainly the right thing to do temporarily while the person heals. After all, no one can be expected to perform at full capacity either during or in the aftermath of a personal crisis. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m referring to the tendency to allow our permanent perception of the individual to be skewed due to whatever past tragedy they’ve endured – confusing their fortitude and resilience in moving on with their ongoing effectiveness in their job.
In short, personal fortitude is ultimately no substitute for, and is indeed in this context only marginally related to, good performance. It’s not for me to say how long a person should be allowed to recover from a crisis. That depends on the individual, situation, and circumstances. However, regardless of whatever tragedy the individual has suffered in the past (or even presently endures), eventually his or her performance and professional effectiveness must be judged on its merit. We can admire their strength and perseverance, but that alone is a poor substitution for meaningful achievement.
July 26, 2010 Leave a comment
I have a thing for old tools. Not the ones with cords and plugs, mind you, but old hand tools that predate electricity. The ones guided by hand, powered by muscle, carefully honed and meticulously cared for to retain their edge and effectiveness at doing the job for which they were intended. These are elegant, tactile tools of history, character and quality – tools upon which the livelihood of their owner depended. These tools didn’t sit collecting dust on shelves in garages, used casually or occasionally and allowed to rust. These were tools of journeymen and tradesmen, carpenters, cabinetmakers, shipbuilders, and carriage makers – tools that were passed down through multiple generations. Every one has a story to tell; every paint spot, dent, ding, scratch and chip reflects a different point in time and a different job completed.
Sadly, most of these tools eventually fell victim to post-WWII modern industrialization when mass production, cheap technology, and the population explosion shifted consumer culture from quality and durability to speed and ease of use. Today, we’ll spend $200 on a cordless drill and toss it out when the battery no longer holds a charge. All the while, the noble tools of iron, steel, and wood that built this country sit quietly idle, rusting away in barns and workshops and garages. Few know how to use them, fewer still know how to restore them to functional condition, and just about everyone else wonders why bother doing either. I am one of the relative few who does both.
Opinions on the restoration of old tools vary widely and are frequently debated within their communities of interest. I personally believe that less is more when it comes to restoration. I like the idea of retaining a tool’s character – its scars and marks from use, its patina, etc. I believe a tool should be cleaned and maintained in the same manner as the original craftsman who owned it would have done. A hundred years ago, these tools represented the livelihood of the owner. They were relatively expensive and the woodworkers who owned them relied on them to make a living. They would not have allowed rust to accumulate and would have cleaned and oiled them regularly.
Refining people is not unlike the restoration and care of vintage tools. Regardless of age or experience, there are always rough edges to be eased, working mechanisms in need of adjustment, and business implements to be sharpened to produce the desired result. People in an organization require constant tuning and ongoing maintenance in order to function at their peak capacity. Good leaders exist, not simply as masters of the tools they wield. Rather in the manner of fine craftsmen, they are charged with refining, tuning, and honing the tools in their care, through the edification and development of the men and women they lead.
The refinement of these human tools requires a firm but gently touch. In time, their mettle (pun intended) is reflected in a patina developed through experience, accomplishment, and occasional failure. Skills develop through hands on instruction and are shaped by practice. The quality of results improves as the tool is tuned to achieve the task intended. Adjustments are made, impurities cleaned, and accomplishment is rewarded until eventually the tool attains a confidence, character, and integrity all its own. Shavings are gossamer thin, lines are cut straight and true, and revealed in every achievement is the precision of the tool and the influence of its custodian.
Without constant care, tools become dulled by use – corrosion slowly creeps in, alignment is eventually lost, and the ability of the tool to perform as expected is compromised. Just as the journeyman of 100 years ago was personally responsible for the care and maintenance of his tools, so are the business leaders of people today. In a culture where tools are deemed disposable, easily replaced by a trip to the local home center, leaders of people cannot afford to be so cavalier. These human tools represent the livelihood of the organization. They are relatively expensive and the companies that employ them rely on them to sustain and grow the business. They must not be allowed to fall idle and rust.
May 25, 2010 1 Comment
To say that customer service is virtually non-existent today would be a comical understatement. It seems everywhere we turn the quality of service we receive is inconsistent at best, from the waiters and sales people who ignore us to business managers who view us as interruptions. I believe the root of the problem is not so much one of employee indifference; this is merely a symptom of the problem rather than the problem itself. The real problem is a systematic failure on the part of companies and their managers to see beyond the transaction, make decisions based on intellect verses emotion, and empower their employees to be an advocate for the customer rather than ‘defender’ of the company.
Most people, if they are at all engaged in their job, want to do well. Likewise, all companies want to be successful, and understand the value and necessity of happy customers. So, where is the disconnect? I believe it’s with the middle and lower level leadership. It’s not much of a stretch to conclude that employee attitudes toward customers are a reflection of the culture created by management within the store, restaurant, or department. I suppose there are a myriad of reasons, everything ranging from indifference and ignorance to a misguided notion of protecting the financial bottom line. Just last week my wife asked to speak with the general manager of our dealership over a mechanical problem with our year old car that the staff was unwilling to rectify. His response after listening to her complaint was to accuse her of being confrontational. It is no wonder his staff was so unhelpful.
Leaders at every level bear the responsibility for maintaining a culture of service excellence, communicating expectations, and monitoring performance. This requires personal interaction, not only with employees, but also with the customers. Leaders can’t lead from behind a desk or though emails. They have to get out of their offices, spend time along side their employees and participate in constant face to face interaction. This is why you see managers in finer restaurants stop by your table to ask if everything was okay. They understand the value of personal attention to their staff, customers, and business. Philip K. Wrighley, chairman of the world’s largest chewing gum company, famously relayed the following story: “I went into our New York office one day and they asked who was calling. I told them it didn’t make a bit of difference. It might be a guy wanting to buy some gum – and that’s all that mattered.”
Below I’ve attempted to summarize service excellence in five fundamental principles. Perhaps I’ve oversimplified it, but I don’t think so. In fact, isn’t that the point? Superior customer service really isn’t all that complicated or expensive. Everyone should try it.
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