In collecting endorsements for the cover of my upcoming book, The Power of Clarity, I’ve noticed an interesting phenomenon.
Everyone knows clear roles and responsibilities are important, right? That’s why we write job descriptions. That’s why managers work so hard to set expectations. That’s why smart employees make an effort to clarify those expectations. Clear roles and responsibilities matter! Unfortunately, we aren’t doing enough. These techniques simply aren’t adequate.
“We are more alike than different.” You’ve heard this phrase. From me, if nowhere else. But let’s get more specific for the sake of clarity. We differ in:
I have written hundreds of articles containing my best ideas, all of which are available for free on my website. I send a newsletter every month without fail, delivering my newest ideas to inboxes all over the world. I respond to emails and LinkedIn questions directly. I give free advice by phone to inactive clients and prospective clients because they need it, not because they are considering hiring me. I truly appreciate it when people take the time to reply with their thanks and reactions, comment on and share my posts on social media, and write testimonials for my website or for my books on Amazon. The social sharing and Amazon reviews are especially appreciated because my goal is to spread the power of clarity and those are great ways to get the message out. But something happened recently that caught me up short.
Do you ever wonder how patient you should be? I’ve got executive advisory clients who struggle with this question. Some of them are naturally impatient, know they need to work at being more patient, but worry that being too patient sends the wrong message. Do you ever feel that way? So what can you do? Here is the short answer:
When the Spanish conquistador Cortés and his men first arrived in what became Mexico, they asked the people they encountered, “What is the name of this place?” The native Mayans consistently replied, “Yucatán,” which means…
We are outraged. We are outraged when we see someone without a mask. Outraged when asked to wear a mask. Outraged with every headline. Outraged by every comment on social media. Outraged before breakfast. After lunch. During dinner. In our dreams. It’s an epidemic. And I’m convinced our outrage is more destructive than the coronavirus. How Destructive Is Outrage?
After witnessing relatively few actions, we put labels on people. When impressed by comments or accomplishments, we reach for positive labels such as brilliant, ambitious, talented, or a natural leader. The more impressive the feat, the quicker we are to draw our conclusions and apply the label.
When a client finally accepted that the root cause of their many struggles was that they keep hiring the wrong people, it was a major breakthrough. What will likely take even longer is for them to realize that they aren’t even qualified to hire the kind of people they really need! “How can we be hiring the wrong people when we hire such great people?” they demanded to know. Every one a top notch subject matter expert just like themselves. People with great experience and knowledge in the field. People who care as much as they do. And people who fit in really well. How could this be a problem? The problem they finally recognized is that by hiring people like themselves, they don’t really have people managers or project managers or product managers or branding experts or…
While speaking at the Elevate Leadership Summit in Idaho, I wanted to illustrate how differently we all see things so I relayed a story about the day I brought my future husband home for the very first time. Within about two minutes of walking in the door, he asked for a hammer. He wanted to pound in a protruding nail on our stairway before something or someone got caught on it. He could not not see that nail. Nor could he leave it sticking out. I, on the other hand, along with my two parents and four siblings, had lived with that nail for a cumulative count of over 200 years without it ever occurring to any of us to do something about it. I certainly knew it was there; I used to wrap the phone cord around it while sitting on those steps and chatting with friends. (Yes, that dates me!) If a protruding nail can be a preoccupation for some and effectively invisible to others, you can never assume your co-workers are noticing or thinking the same things you are. Nor can you fault them for not seeing what you see. This fact is at the heart of my Disconnect Principle.