Vannoy and Ross

July 27, 2010

A construction crew was building a bridge. The foreman was barking orders, commanding the men to work faster and smarter. As time went on, the crew began to ignore their boss. This frustrated the foreman. When he’d had enough, he stood on the bridge in front of them and shouted, “You need to listen to me. I have 20 years of experience!”

One of the men spoke up, “No you don’t. You have one year of experience that you’ve had over and over for 20 years.”  

It’s an old story, but it isn’t tired. There are many lessons to mine. Including this one: When do a person’s years of experience become a detriment rather than an asset?

How many of your teammates use experiences that occur every day as their greatest resource for getting better? And not just as the capabilities necessary to deliver their job description – but as a resource to become a greater leader, a greater person?

It sounds easy in theory, doesn’t it? “Yes, I wake up every day knowing I can get better.” Yet, when, during my day, am I shaking my head in frustration? What “buttons” do people push that continue to drive me crazy? Who in the organization keeps torturing me with their attitudes and behaviors? What to-do item do I continue to avoid?

The answers to these questions reveal that I, too, may suffer from the illusion that “my-years-of-experience-mean-I’m-getting-better.”

What’s the fundamental message to ourselves if the same people, the same issues, the same circumstances provoke some sort of dysfunctional reaction by us?

My unenlightened answer is: “Well, they’ve got to change.”

My enlightened answer is: “I may have worked here for 20 years, but I’m not sure I have that many years of experience. How will I gain greater experiences today?”

Vannoy and Ross

I’m in Aberdeen, Scotland. (For work, I assure you.) After jumping into a cab, I quickly remembered that I am a foreigner: Even though I speak English, this Scottish accent is tough to decode. (Though they have informed me it is I with the accent.)

But the cabbie is happy to see me, and eager to share his love of the city that has been his  home for 56 years. After peppering him with questions – how old is this city? where’s the best pub to watch the World Cup tonight? does Mel Gibson really look like William Wallace? – he smiles and tells me the fare. I have no idea if he’s telling me the truth; I also have no concept of what I’m supposed to add for a tip. I’m at his mercy.

Feeling rather stupid, I offer, “Thanks for all your help. It’s appreciated.”

He grins. (And plug in your favorite, rich Scottish accent on what he says next.) “No problem at all. We’re all looking for the same thing, see?” He laughs, and adds, “We’re all just trying to figure it out.”

Call it a moment of Zen or whatever. I smile at him, acknowledging that indeed he has figured it out.

And I wonder: In our rush-rush-and-you’re-still-behind world, what would happen if we had the patience of a Scottish cabbie? Sure, you could argue that Aberdeen is not London or New York, and that such patience would melt away under pressure. But I’m not so sure. And more importantly, what would happen if it didn’t?

Who’s in your cab today? Who’s asking stupid questions, floundering in confusion? Who’s seems to be a foreigner (read: metaphor) on your team? Yes, business is about delivering results – faster than your competition. Still, is there a place in all of that for patience? Is there a line between needing now…and developing for then?

Those of you who are building something great – results and a business that will endure – know the answer to that question.

Vannoy and Ross

Right now, let’s admit the obvious: We all have friends – or at least we should – who will tell us the truth. If we’re doing something wrong, they’ll tell us. The difference between high-performing organizations and average-performing ones is that you don’t have to be friends to tell the truth; you simply have to be on the same team.

Somewhere, somehow, someone made a leadership rule that we’re supposed to be nice to each other. Granted, as humans we want to be benevolent; we don’t want to hurt people. What gets many teams stuck in the abyss of averageness is when being nice takes precedent over being professional: Respectful, supportive, direct, collaborative, truthful and trustworthy (among other things).

Yet, it’s one thing to muster the courage to tell someone they’ve got an issue. It’s an even bigger event to receive the feedback in a way that moves everyone forward.

Consider this: You’ve got spinach in your teeth. There’s something you’re doing – or not doing – that is slowing you or others down. Heck, it might even be embarrassing. But of course, addressing this “spinach affliction” isn’t nearly as embarrassing as it is for your company when it under-whelms its customers. Now that’s some big spinach that’s mighty embarrassing.

Here are the top three reasons why people may not tell you you’ve got green, leafy things stuck in your teeth:

1)      When they’ve told you in the past, you’ve argued with them and denied the evidence;

2)      You’ve rationalized why you had to have spinach in your teeth, why you have to be less than perfect. Or,

3)      You’ve received their feedback as a threat against who you are as a person. You reasoned “spinach in my teeth = I’m a loser.” Consequently, your production plummeted. (Interpretation to others: Just be nice to him or her.)

Today, discuss with those around you what it would look like to take the next step in fighting for each other’s success by telling the truth even more. For example, talk about what it would look like to receive constructive feedback and:

A)    Listen intently;

B)    Ask for their help in moving forward;

C)    And then thank them.

(And now, who feels like brushing their teeth?)