Decisions are the forks in the road. We encounter them a thousand times daily, starting with the choice of ignoring our alarm or getting out of bed in the morning. And then we continue making decisions all day long – about clothes, hair, food, children, parents, pets, commuting, projects, customers, priorities, strategies, co-workers, money, technology, email, phone calls, plans, problems, investments, service providers, healthcare, and, finally, whether to watch one more show before bed.
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.
We have been powering our household and electric car with our own solar energy for more than two months now and I want to share the most eye-opening insight to date.
A business owner who read my newsletter regularly for more than a decade and often told me how much he always learned from me unsubscribed recently. All because of two words. Two words! Wow! It’s no loss to me, but why would someone walk away from an abundant and free source of insights they value because of two words? There are only two reasons I can think of. First, my two words were utterly horrific. Second, the person was wired for blind rage. What were the two words that leaped out at this guy from all the other words I’ve written in 4 books and over 600 articles? What terrible words sent him running with seething indignation?
One year ago, a brewery opened in our town. Inside a beautiful old historic brick landmark that the owners restored, they brew excellent beer and have created a charming setting that attracts tourists, locals, and, with the Presidential race underway, candidates. So far, I have shared a pint with Beto O’Rourke and hobnobbed with Tulsi Gabbard, as well as friends and family. This brewery is just a tremendous asset for the town. But these young owners could teach other business folk a few lessons too. In particular, they’ve taught me some lessons about consistency. In the first several months, they made many significant changes. After financing some of their final building efforts with an IndieGoGo campaign that awarded growlers to donors, they decided not to sell growler refills. After posting beer prices, and then posting new prices, they posted new prices yet again. After announcing the availability of flights, they quit serving flights. Every day—of course I wasn’t actually in there every day!—they seemed to change the rules.
I just bought a car that flies in the face of the advice I’ve received from lots of my most successful colleagues. I can’t even name the fancy brands I “should” have been considering in order to impress people. And this has got me thinking about my own brand. Brand matters! Absolutely! But…
Every few weeks McKinsey tries to sell me a packet of materials to improve my meetings. These guys are big and ubiquitous. If they were really offering a great solution, I don’t think most meetings would still be so awful. I don’t think people would still be complaining constantly about meetings – both too many meetings and unproductive meetings. Especially from all those companies that have hired McKinsey in the past!
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…
I frequently facilitate off-site retreats, strategic planning sessions, and other meetings where complex situations require smart decisions that are strongly supported by everyone present. I enjoy it and I’m good at it. Nonetheless, I cringe when people ask me to be their facilitator.
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.