| Register/Subscribe Home |
|
ONLINE FEATURES
Book Reviews
BW Video
Columnists
Interactive Gallery
Newsletters
Past Covers
Philanthropy
Podcasts
Special Reports
BLOGS
Auto Beat
Bangalore Tigers
Blogspotting
Brand New Day
Byte of the Apple
Economics Unbound
Eye on Asia
Fine On Media
Green Biz
Hot Property
Investing Insights
Management IQ
NEXT: Innovation
NussbaumOnDesign
Tech Beat
Working Parents
TECHNOLOGY
J.D. Power Ratings
Product Reviews
Tech Stats
Wildstrom: Tech Maven
AUTOS
Home Page
Auto Reviews
Classic Cars
Car Care & Safety
Hybrids
INNOVATION
& DESIGN Home Page Architecture Brand Equity Auto Design Game Room SMALLBIZ Smart Answers Success Stories Today's Tip INVESTING Investing: Europe Annual Reports BW 50 S&P Picks & Pans Stock Screeners Free S&P Stock Report SCOREBOARDS Hot Growth 100 Mutual Funds Info Tech 100 S&P 500 B-SCHOOLS Undergrad Programs MBA Blogs MBA Profiles MBA Rankings Who's Hiring Grads | | AUGUST 7, 2000 BOOK EXCERPT Victory from Defeat Workplace Warrior: Insights and Advice for Winning on the Corporate Battlefield (Part 3)
All success -- at least spiritual, if not material -- depends on the courage to face risk. At the minimum, acknowledgment of our courage on the part of others, if not their active support and fealty, is one of the great rewards of success. Self-made men like Abraham Lincoln or such men as Nelson Mandela, who have conquered great odds and succeeded in making a difference, inspire our admiration and to a great extent, I believe, count others' appreciation as one of their greatest honors. As a result, when we fail or are discredited, we often feel shame that we have not proved to be as worthy as other people thought, and we dread what they must think of us now, grieving that we may be judged unworthy. While this reaction to failure is normal, we must consider several things when determining how important it is that we've disappointed others:
THE NUMBER OF PEOPLE AFFECTED How connected an individual feels to a particular group can greatly influence the way she sees the world and how seriously her failures will affect her. If she is part of a very prescriptive culture - for example, a member of a Southern Baptist, Amish, or Muslim community - she has been raised with a long list of rules governing what constitutes moral and acceptable behavior, including such issues as dancing, drinking alcohol, or using combustion engines. Cultures that are defined by such sets of edicts by definition constrain the types of risks individuals are allowed to take unless they are willing to leave the ranks of the faithful. If one goes outside the bounds of what's accepted, the results can be excommunication, exile, or worse, as in the case of Muslim communities, where honor killings still occur. Most of us live under significantly fewer constraints, which allow us a greater range of risks and far less dramatic punishment in the case of failure. However, if we have visibly taken on some challenge and enjoyed the interest, if not support, of others in our community, one of the hardest things we must deal with after a failure is how it may affect our relationship with others. To some extent, this is a function of how much you care about other people and what they think. I believe that most of us can divide the people we know into three groups: people with whom you have a moral bond growing out of affection or duty or both, people to whom you have made a commitment, and people with whom you share no such bonds. The first group often includes customers, family and close friends, and individuals with whom you have struggled for some common cause. I consider the employees of ETI to be representative of the second group of people, or those to whom I have made a commitment as president of the company with respect to the company's vision, goals, and ethics. As for the last group, it may include people whom I find interesting and appealing, but with whom I have shared very little directly, aside from community board meetings, luncheons, and occasional cocktail parties. When we suffer defeat or failure, we find ourselves worrying about all three sets of people but for different reasons. About the third class of people, or those who are not closely connected to the results of your efforts, you may worry about what they will think or say, but given that you have no obligation to them and that they will most likely be unaffected by your failure, you should care about their reactions least. And yet, for many, their concern -- stemming possibly from either their imagination or their desire not to be judged unfairly -- can be so vivid that it makes them want to withdraw from the community. Most of us recognize that we can be arch, if not downright cruel, in our assessment of other people, especially when we are around people we are comfortable with. When we fail and feel ashamed, then we imagine that the people who are not dependent on us are indulging in that same kind of small-minded gossip -- we can almost hear their barbs -- and they probably are gossiping, particularly if there has ever been any bad blood between you. In my own case, I always imagine the worst for two reasons. First, over the years, particularly in my hotheaded, mouthing-off period, I offended many people and made an enemy or two. Even though I am now considerably more charitable to my fellow man and my subsequent manner and relative success have led to most people treating me with a semblance of good will, I recognize that some people would take pleasure in my bad fortune. The second reason that I suspect a number of people might take no small pleasure in my failure is that I am -- and always have been -- terrible at networking and at remembering the names and roles of people with whom I do not interact on a regular basis. As a result, it takes me far too long to acquire and remember their stories. Although I try to treat everybody I meet as if they were equally important, at some level I know I have unintentionally insulted people by not recognizing them or not being able to converse at great length about their accomplishments. As hard as it is to endure our humiliation about what we (mostly) imagine that people are saying about us, it is even harder to feel that at some level we are being unfairly judged. Few people fail entirely on their own due to lack of skill or effort; it's usually a combination of factors, some of which are out of our control. Even the most self-critical person would like all the facts of his case to be known, but focusing on this aspect only makes him seem defensive. In short, we have little control over what people think or say about us, particularly those with whom we do not share a bond. My approach for minimizing the importance or fears of what people think is to treat all public opinion -- good and bad -- as transitory and inaccurate, because to a large extent it always is. Whether you are being painted as a saint or a sinner, it's never the whole story. As a result, I have made it a practice not to read anything that has been written about me, even if it's good; I simply skim the article just to determine whether it is essentially positive or negative. This exercise has helped me in 'not believing my press' so that when a negative article comes out, I don't torture myself about what was specifically said.2 Finally, the best defense against bad publicity is to proceed as if nothing has happened. Without additional information, people who are not dependent on you soon grow tired of your story and move on to that of someone else. LOSS OF FAITH The response and feelings of people who are dependent on you -- whether colleagues, employees, or customers -- are significantly more important than generic public opinion. These people may have an imperfect knowledge of you as a person, but they count on you to deliver your end of a mutual commitment. When you fail these people -- by missing a deadline, failing to meet the company's financial plan, or not providing them with the technical support they need to meet their own deadlines -- they suffer the consequences. What these people think does matter, because frequently you are also dependent on them, and if they don't pick up the slack or stay committed to the cause, there will be further fallout. As a result, you must give them as accurate and straightforward a picture as possible, while asking them to keep faith with you. The delicate balance here is where and how to place blame and to acknowledge fault. You should always be candid about mistakes in this type of relationship, because catching you in some untruth would be the quickest way for others to lose faith in you. The problem is that the most common cause of failure when at war in the workplace results from something you didn't know or something you failed to recognize, and admitting that shortsightedness is an invitation for others to judge you as not up to the task. For example, in the fall of 1996, after ETI had demonstrated four years of outstanding levels of growth and steady improvement toward profitability, we were ready to embark on the process of pursuing an initial public offering. Morale was great, although we heard some rumbling from one of the sales managers in North America. Unfortunately I did not pursue it after his manager assured me it was nothing. Four months into the process of working with the bankers, our chief financial officer registered concerns about our projections for the fourth quarter, which was usually our strongest. The numbers were far less than they should have been, which was not surprising when we realized that we were eight salespeople short of plan. So whose fault was this? The sales managers for not hiring to plan, the vice president of sales and the CFO for not tracking to this important number and voicing a concern, and mine for not managing the company with sufficient checks and balances in place to prevent this type of oversight. Postponing the IPO was extremely disappointing to everyone in the company, but we assured them that we would fix it. Unfortunately, the problem was worse than we knew. Not only were we short of plan, but most of the salespeople in North America had become disenchanted because they were focusing on lower-end prospects -- which had neither the need nor the budget -- rather than on the higher-end enterprise deals that helped the sales team in Europe grow by 98 percent the following year. As a result, a number of previously productive sales executives left, and we were forced to terminate several others who were not performing, as well as make a number of changes in sales management. Consequently, the turnaround that we hoped would happen in a period of nine to twelve months took more than two years, during which time many of our most experienced and talented technical people lost heart and left, discouraged that we seemed stuck in place while much newer dot-com companies were going public. This period was very difficult for all of us and particularly for me. Like Penelope in The Odyssey at her tapestry,3 I would regularly unravel the past to try to understand what threads I should have picked up on sooner and what structure and pattern we could put in place to prevent such surprises in the future. I also struggled with how to present it to the troops. Large hierarchical organizations can reorganize, using special assignments as a way of avoiding the public executions of managers who are being replaced, but we were too small to do this and valued our culture of interdependence too much to indulge in public floggings. As a result, I made a point of assuming as much of the responsibility for our shortcomings as anyone working for me. While I believed I had the goodwill of most of the employees who had been with the company the longest‹and who, because of our small size at the time of their hire, had worked more closely with men like Beowulf, I wonder if they had lost faith in my skills and instincts to lead us to success. Fortunately, most of the managers who work directly for me are outstanding, and their continued commitment has helped keep us on course. Moreover, I decided that ETI needed a new hero for the troops to follow and accordingly promoted the individual who had been in charge of international to run worldwide sales and marketing. In addition to being extremely talented, Gerard Simon is charming and charismatic, and people are beginning to place more and more faith in him. Personally, this response has been gratifying because we need to recover our past momentum. Admittedly, however, I do have pangs that I receive less trust voicing the same opinion as Gerard. But ultimately, we should be joined in reaching a common goal, and the result is what's important. Finally, those people who see your faults and recognize your shortcomings but remain steadfast in their support are your greatest gift. However, even though they are the most likely to forgive your shortcomings, their support does not relieve you of your obligation to remain committed to the values you have previously embraced and championed. DISAPPOINTMENT IN YOURSELF Other people's opinions aside, one of the hardest aspects of failure to face is not what others think about you, but what you fear about yourself. Most of us embrace our limitations as our own, but we believe that our successes are in good part due to luck. When we fail, then, we commonly want to treat the failure as symbolic, indicating that "the truth is finally out, and everyone will know that I am unworthy, or worse, a fraud." One of the hardest challenges we face when we fail is to acknowledge these feelings without being crippled by them. In the Catholic faith, suicide is a mortal sin because it means that you have judged the grace of God as being inadequate to save you. On a more secular note, if you focus only on your unworthiness after a failure, you are also guilty of despair. The key is to face your weaknesses and inadequacies straight on and determine how you are either going to rectify your mistakes or, if that is not possible, change your behavior while moving forward. In earlier chapters, I recounted how I came to recognize that my outspoken, hostile, and judgmental attitude when dealing with others professionally made me many enemies. Only when this behavior led to my humiliation with the public cancellation of my research project was I motivated to change this behavior. Since that time I have made significant progress. I rarely lose my temper any more, and when I do, I am sick with regret for hours or days afterward. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies this outburst of fear -- recall that anger is the mask of fear -- almost makes me physically ill. I am still amazed that ten years ago I felt so much anger on a continual basis and felt revved up, almost like a car whose engine idles too fast. I have made progress, but I have not yet conquered this problem. The year after we first encountered the problem with sales, I was far angrier than was effective. I have realized that part of what triggers this response is when I believe that people are not behaving in their own, much less the group's, best interest. For example, we used to have an alliance manager who, despite the fact that we were losing money doing business with X-Corp (in large part because they were not living up to their original commitment), would consistently give them even more of our scant resources rather than argue for greater equity. Numerous times I asked him, publicly and privately, "Who is signing your check?" If I hadn't been so angry with myself over our general situation and frustrated, I might have found a better way to illustrate the problem so he could understand. Defeat provides a wonderful opportunity for self-reflection and growth. However, like any important war, self-improvement requires more than one battle. At different points in my life, I have fought with some enemy, only to pull off her helmet and look into the eyes of a monster I thought I had defeated long ago. Her dress and manner may be different, but her intent is not. I used to find this pattern very discouraging until a friend of mine told me that I was using the wrong metaphor for progress. She said that because I used the metaphor of a line, when I passed point B and at some later time found myself back at that place, I thought I had lost ground. Her metaphor was that progress was like climbing along a spiral path out of a hole. As you progress, you often encounter the same point you had visited earlier, but at a different level. Progress involves acknowledgment and forgiveness. The spiritual path metaphor has helped me recognize when I have again indulged in old, unproductive ways and allowed me to focus at the same time on how I have progressed since the last time I visited that particular vice. GETTING OVER IT Nobody loses all the time. When you do fail, however, you must find a way to move on. With luck and introspection, this defeat might help you weaken one of your internal demons, but you must also deal with the external aspects of your defeat. The difficulty of this depends on the magnitude of the battle. Sometimes you can surrender and simply acknowledge that your behavior was destructive and then behave differently. In this case, if the victor is convinced that you have ceded your ground and will sincerely contribute toward the group's goal, there is a good chance that you can remain and thrive. At other times, you may need to pack up your tent and leave, as I left the CAD program at MCC after too much damage had been done. When leaving, you should also acknowledge your defeat, withdraw from the battle, and treat the victor with the respect he believes he deserves. Even if you liken him to the devil incarnate and feel he can't be trusted, your positive behavior will usually buy you time to retool or find another opportunity. Because few enemies -- even the internal ones -- are the devil incarnate, it also provides you with a chance to gain and give genuine respect and forgiveness. If you use each defeat as an opportunity for growth, the battles over time become less personal, if necessary at all. And one day you will discover that although you have become a formidable warrior, you have chosen the path of the adventurer and would rather go around, under, through, or over the conflict and fight only when you have no other choice.   | | |
 Copyright 2000, by The McGraw-Hill Companies Inc. All rights reserved.Terms of Use | Privacy Policy |
Excerpted from Workplace Warrior: Insights and Advice for Winning on the Corporate Battlefield, by Kay Hammer. Copyright 2000. Reprinted by permission of the publisher AMACOM, American Management Association Publications, 
