And So We Dance.
We assume that Step 1: Step Back is an artificial imposition of a pause.
As if the world and all the circumstances we have identified as relevant to our decision have frozen, awaiting our direction on how to deal with them.
Or that by not pausing - by being ‘decisive’, we arrest the descent into anarchy by our intervention.
The pause is a recognition of the inherent and natural movement of events onward.
The pause allows us to observe the path of events, and for those events to sort themselves out - whatever that looks like.
It addresses our temptation, to paraphrase Vaclav Havel, be like a child that ‘pulls on a plant to make it grow more quickly’.
By stepping back, we recognise that delay is part of the rhythm of the Universe.
And so we dance.
Chesterton’s Fence.
“There exists in such a case a certain institution or law; let us say, for the sake of simplicity, a fence or gate erected across a road. The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, ‘I don’t see the use of this; let us clear it away.’ To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: ‘If you don’t see the use of it, I certainly won’t let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it.’” - G.K. Chesterton
One of the many challenges of Leadership is navigating Chesterton’s Fences.
What is the purpose of this custom or practice?
Why are Things Done This Way Around Here?
Why does this role exist?
Why is this person doing this role?
By definition, Leadership requires clearing away fences.
As Chesterton advises, don’t clear it until you know why it’s there.
What’s in it?
A bad boss asks: ‘What’s in it for me?’
A good boss asks: ‘What’s in it for us?’
A leader asks: ‘What’s in it for our future?’
That’s why real leaders are rare.
The White Couch.
A white leather couch won’t hide the dirt, marks, and evidence of use.
‘We shouldn’t have bought that white couch,’ you lament.
While the red couch sits nearby, hiding its dirt, marks and evidence of use.
What Leadership Courses Won’t Tell You.
They won’t tell you this in High Performing Teams school.
They won’t write this in the leadership manuals and self-help books.
If you introduce all the behaviours and philosophies of Good Leadership into a workplace -
At least one person will take advantage of your space, purpose, equip, affirm, retreat, servant-leadership, listening, humility -
To justify their poor performance.
Henry Knew.
The Chief of the Defence Force’s VIP aircraft taxied to a halt on the tarmac.
The CDF descended the stairs.
I came to attention, bringing my sword from its blade’s resting place on my right shoulder, to the vertical.
‘Flight! Atten-shun!’ I called to the 18 airmen and airwomen standing at ease behind me.
‘Flight! Shoulder … ARMS!’ I heard the soft whoosh of 18 L1A1 Self Loading Rifles being smoothly hoisted off the tarmac with one hand and grasped with two.
‘Flight! General salute! Pre-sent…ARMS!’
I bring the hilt of my sabre smoothy and sharply to my my lower lip with my right elbow close to my body and they wrist straight.
CDF and his Aide stride briskly towards us as I hold my pose, knowing the 18 behind me are holding their rifles vertically in front of their bodies, just as we practised.
The CDF is almost at the right marker, before I can order: ‘Flight! Shoulder…ARMS!’ He stands and waits for me. Quicker than how we rehearsed.
I draw my sword back to the vertical, execute a crisp right turn, march towards the CDF, halting three paces from him. I give him a shorter salute with my sword, bringing the hilt to my lip, pausing, then returning my blade to the vertical. CDF returns my salute with his hand and a smile. The Air Officer Commanding has slipped to the right rear of the CDF, two paces behind him.
‘Good morning, Sir! Welcome to RAAF Base Pearce. Ceremonial Flight ready for your inspection, Sir!’ CDF nods, I execute an about turn, ready to accompany CDF along the three ranks.
Damn they look good! I think as I scan the front rank and CDF begins his slow walk along their rigid line. They look REALLY good. Bayonets glint in the sun and they are dressed perfectly, aligned with barely a variation along each rank. Text book. I feel proud.
CDF looks each of them up and down, and stops to chat to two or three along the way as I escort him in this ancient military ritual of a commander checking on the readiness and morale of his troops.
We reach the end of the rear rank, and the CDF and I exchange salutes, before the AOC accompanies him the fifty metres to Headquarters to begin his inspection of the Base.
I thank the Ceremonial Flight and dismiss them to return to their various duties maintaining aircraft and filing cabinets.
‘I want the film from that camera, Corporal! NOW!'
It’s the Warrant Officer Disciplinary (WOD) who is the Senior Airman, and who selected me to be the Officer in Charge of Drill and Ceremony. (‘You’re the only Officer who polishes his shoes and knows his left from his right, Sir!’ he explained with faint praise.)
I returned my sword to its scabbard and followed the Warrant Officer to find out what he was so angry about.
‘Henry!’ I called out after checking all the airmen had dispersed from earshot and would not hear me calling the WOD by his first name. ‘They looked good, didn’t they? CDF rushed us a bit, but they looked impressive.’
Henry ignored me. 'Do NOT send those photos to RAAF News or anywhere other than on my desk!’ he continued to yell at the poor Corporal photographer. ‘If any other WOD sees pictures of what I just witnessed, I’ll be buying beers until my retirement!’
‘I don’t undestand, Warrant Officer,’ I said. ‘They were perfect!’
Henry finally stopped turned, and gave me a curt salute, which I returned. ‘You left them at the Shoulder Arms, Sir!’ Henry said, before turning his back on me and striding towards HQ, shaking his head. ‘You were meant to return them to the Order Arms, Sir. They’re meant to be inspected at the Order Arms, not the Shoulder Arms.’ He was far enough from me to be shouting, now.
‘I didn’t have time, Henry!’ I protested. ‘And anyway, I think they looked better at the Shoulder Arms position!' Don’t you?! They should change the Drill Manual and have inspections with weapons at the Shoulder. Those bayonets looked so good…’
Henry shook his head and kept walking. ‘Officers!’ he growled. ‘Bloody Officers!’
We talk of ‘Excellence’ and ‘High Performing’ and ‘Elite’ and other buzz words.
That assumes we know what ‘Excellence’ looks like. What ‘High Performing’ feels like. What ‘Elite’ requires.
My ‘looks sharp’ was the Senior Airman’s embarrassment.
My ‘good enough for government work’ was the Warrant Officer Disciplinary’s vocation.
My ‘high performing’ was Henry’s disappointment in me.
I doubt my boss the Air Officer Commanding or his boss the Chief of Defence Force picked up the error.
But Henry did.
No Clue.
I had a boss who thought it necessary to introduce himself by boasting he had been in the same job for over 40 years.
He had no clue that his narrow life experience was not a strength to those with a discerning ear.
He had no clue because he had been in the same job for over 40 years.
Why You Are Wrong.
A bad boss’s default response to a contrary view is finding ways to tell you you’re wrong.
Note - not finding why you might be wrong - but how to tell you you’re wrong.
A Higher Value.
Resolving a complaint is much easier - indeed only possible - if all parties agree to a higher value than what they’re arguing over.
You Hurry.
‘He’s dying,’ the caller tells you.
So you hurry to get to him.
You hurry.
Even though you’ve got the rest of your life.
Systems Thinking.
Removing a single olive from passenger's meals saved American Airlines $40,000 in fuel a year. - Rob Crandall
Someone at American Airlines had to be thinking about saving money.
Someone had to be tracking olive purchases and handling costs.
Someone had to be tracking olives left on the plates of first class passengers.
Someone had to be tracking the effects on customer satisfaction of removing olives - and how many.
Someone had to have oversight over all this tracking and thinking to join the dots.
Someone had to make the decision on whether to remove the olive.
Someone had to track the consequences of the decision - e.g. customer complaints, cabin crew feedback, logistics chain.
Whose Needs?
An excellent way of breaking a right-versus-right decision impasse is to step back (always step back) and ask:
“Whose needs are being met?”
Ask yourself.
Ask anyone else involved in the decision.
Ask the person who’s demanding your time and attention.
There’s an underperforming teacher who is facing the axe and who has a family and has been in the job for many years.
Dozens of student conscripts are subjected to the teacher’s poor teaching each day.
Whose needs?
Whose needs were being met when the teacher was employed without a thorough check on why they left their last job?
The hard conversation is still hard - but you honour the person by prioritising the needs.
The Great Truth of the Powerful.
Here’s the great truth of the powerful:
I’m powerful and right.
The Proof of my assertion is that you will never publicly hear any correction of me by anyone of merit.
Because I’m powerful and right.
Insubordinate.
Benjamin Ferencz was recruited by chief prosecutor Telford Taylor to join the US team at the Nuremberg trials established by the victorious Allied powers. Taylor noted his army files said he was "occasionally insubordinate", to which Ferencz replied: "That’s not correct, sir. I am usually insubordinate. I don't take orders that I know are stupid or illegal."
Our entire system of justice, fairness, kindness, and freedom to love - depends on courageous insubordinates like Ben Ferencz.
He discharged from the United States Army with the rank of Sergeant.
Consistency.
We don't look for consistency in decisions.
We look for consistency in decision making.
We don’t look for consistency in outcomes.
We look for consistency in growth from those outcomes.
The Best for Continuous Improvement.
I’ve worked in stand alone organisations that rely on information being passed up the hierarchy and some external to continuously improve.
I’ve worked in command and control organisations that rely on information being passed up from subordinate units whose members must overcome fear of criticism, embarrassment, or career disadvantage to feed consequences from the centralised decision making to continuously improve.
The best systems with continuous improvement are those where multiple independent organisations voluntarily sign up to be part of a larger association.
One of the member organisations innovates, notifies the association, which then checks and then shares that innovation with other members or in the form of better policies and procedures.
25%.
My teacher returned my first essay of the year that I was sure would score high marks.
It was covered in red pen and he had scrawled ‘25%’ at the bottom of the page.
I protested - explaining that my work was superior to others’ essays I’d read and had he’d marked much higher.
‘I will mark you at the percentage of whatever I think you’re capable of writing,’ he responded.
He did that for two years.
I finished high in the state in the final exam.
The older I get, the more I appreciate the wisdom of his philosophy to assessing me.
First, it meant he needed to see and now me and what I was capable of achieving.
Second, it meant I was competing against myself - not other students or some vague benchmark.
Third, it kept me accountable to myself, not other students and their level of study or intelligence.
My heart sank when I learned that my teacher was coincidentally one of the two paired markers of my final exam, as I thought my result may have been the result of his bias.
My reaction proved that he had taught me that an excellent achievement was meaningless it wasn’t a rating of my potential.
‘On the contrary,’ he responded when I asked him. ‘I marked you much lower. The paired marker was the one who insisted your work was much better, and lifted your mark.’
I’ve forgotten much of what was taught to me at school.
But I’ve not forgotten this lesson.
