The bull$*!t edition
I’m often told by readers how much they enjoy the positive outlook of 5MSM. Well, this week I wear a ‘black hat’ for something a bit different . . .
Too much trust
I’ve worked with many organisations that have a culture of self-determination, where people (or at least managers) get to set their own goals, work at their own pace, determine the best path forward.
You might say, “That’s terrific. It’s treating workers as adults. Empowering them to bring their best selves to work”.
But, in the last month alone, I’ve had three clients complain to me about the negative consequences of this entrenched empowerment, what one called ‘too much trust’.
You see, problems arose as soon as a more senior person wanted to introduce more structure, greater systematisation, or layers of conformity. Now, why did they do this?
Well, they usually wanted some combination of the following four things:
more consistent customer experience, or ability to connect varied service offerings;
more efficient delivery of service, given tight resourcing;
greater performance uniformity amongst employees whose output is quite variable; and
more accountability required or, more accurately, senior people (including board) want more visibility of the results and success factors of the business.
Now, I think you’d agree there’s nothing wrong with any of these. So, why do the middle-managers (in a very large retail business, a large educational bureaucracy and a multi-site aged care organisation) display what I call structure resistance?
It’s often coming from a defensive attitude of “We know best”. One of my clients badged his organisaton with a Culture of Entitlement (“We do as we like”), and he notices people playing turf protection games with frequent border skirmishes (“Don’t tell me how to do my job”). The source of this? I’d argue it’s a combination of complacency and fear: “I like what I’ve got, and I seriously doubt I could be more accountable / higher performing / more efficient / make my customers dramatically happier. So don’t ask me to”.
Given that these are a pattern over many organisational generations, what can be done?
The first is a prospective tactic. That is, rather than simply impose the structure from above, work out the rationale for it through a participatory dialogue of some sort. Invite people into discussing the ‘why’ and make a compelling case for the systematisation from the perspective of the customer, not of the business.
Secondly, find those people who are well-disposed to the change - these are your early adopters. Laud them, give them prestigious internal change responsibilities, and get them to recruit adherents to the cause.
Thirdly, find the low-hanging fruit in the results. One client who ran a large allied health service raised expectations of how many clients a therapist would see each day. The number they came to almost doubled the daily load of some therapists — but it largely eliminated the waitlist for many therapies within just 90 days. Happier clients all round — several of whom were invited to celebrate the success of Project Zero (‘zero wait list’) with drinks and nibbles.
So, before you go about strengthening bottom-up autonomy in your organisation, think about how you’ll also go about introducing greater top-down systematisation.
Question: What ‘structure resistance’ exists in your organisation, and what can you do about it?
Breathing their own exhaust
This week I finally got to the last episode of Succession. If you’re a regular reader here and haven’t seen it, I recommend this soap-operatic passing of the generational baton from an old (cantankerous) billionaire to four younger (screwed up) billionaires.
Yes, it’s entertaining, and one of the most psychologically perceptive scripts I’ve seen, acted superbly. But more than that, the series shows us with crystal clarity the one fatal flaw in the billionaire’s outlook. Anil Dash diagnoses it artfully here:
“You have a cohort that is, counterintutively, very easily manipulated. If you have access to a billionaire (and billionaires all have access to each other, because it suits their ego to think of each other as peers), most are very easy to program by simply playing to their insecurity and desire for acknowledgement of exceptionalism, and so they push each other further and further into extreme ideas because their entire careers have been predicated on the idea that they're genius outliers who can see things others can't, and that their wealth is a reward for that imagined merit.”
Now, I’m not a billionaire, and I’m quite certain you aren’t either. So, what’s the relevance of this to us mere mortals?
In her excellent book, Insight, Tasha Eurich enjoins us to beware of the Billionaire Trap #1: the capacity to breathe our own exhaust.
She argues an uncomfortable truth: that most of us believe we are self-aware, but only a fraction of us truly are. There's often a significant gap between how we see ourselves and how others perceive us.
While you let that sink in, I’ll mention that she goes on to show how to use feedback from others (externally) and self-reflection (internally) to overcome this gap. In addition, she advocates introspection (‘more what than why’ — “What can I do differently?” rather than “Why did I do that?”), and mindfulness practices.
Four seasons of Succession and I didn’t once see the main characters introspect, get feedback, or do anything resembling mindfulness. They can keep their billions, thank you.
Question: How do you help your colleagues and team develop an accurate perception of themselves?
Consequences? What consequences?
The war in Vietnam required huge manpower and US Secretary of State Robert McNamara had to find a way to fulfil this demand.
He noted that the military’s ‘repetitive training and remedial efforts’ often turned otherwise unsuitable applicants into capable soldiers, so he wanted to see how far he could stretch that concept.
McNamara’s Operation 100,000 aimed, publicly, to address ‘appalling and tragic poverty’ in the US, by enlisting physically — and mentally — unsuitable men. 92% of these ‘New Standards Men’ fell far below the mental requirements of regular soldiers, with most having numerical and verbal skills at a Year 6 school level. Many were classified as ‘borderline retarded’.
By 1969, 250,000 such men were recruited, or more than 10% of all recruits between 1966 - 1969. They were ineligible for technical training, so more than the average number saw front-line duty, where they were three times as likely to be killed in action. As for the stated aim of releasing these men from poverty through training — one follow-up study revealed they earned $16k a year less than their peers.
Question: Is there any ostensibly positive intent that your organisation works towards, but which may have unintended consequences?
Let me know you’re out there reading — and took something useful away this week. Just click the heart and the Gods of the Internet — and I — will be delighted.
Until next Friday, be healthily skeptical of the bull$*!t around you, and focus on how you can see through the hubris, and help others to do so.
Andrew