The late George M. Steinbrenner III ruled the New York Yankees as managing partner for a club-record 37 years, during which his team won 11 American League pennants and seven World Series titles. Ultra hands-on, Steinbrenner’s most printable nickname was “The Boss.” He meddled in everything, which kept all his employees on yo-yos of nervous uncertainty.
On George’s desk at Yankee Stadium sat a foot-long engraved sign that read “Lead, Follow, or Get Out of the Way.” Since The Boss was an impetuous, impulsive sort, the message was clear: While the meek may indeed eventually inherit the earth, what they inherit will have been shaped, constructed, and governed by men consumed by the drive, will, and determination required to make things happen.
Make no bones about it, George was contemptuously allergic to seemingly meek people.
Although he paid his employees very well, the emotional squeeze of Steinbrenner’s roller-coastering leadership style exacted a heavy toll. Money could buy some of the people Steinbrenner wanted but not all. George’s iron-fisted leadership alienated cadres of skilled baseball players and executives who did not think his style and theirs was a very good fit, castles of dead presidents stacked before them notwithstanding.
Some could deal with George’s bombast, others could not. As a free agent, future Hall of Fame pitcher Jim “Catfish” Hunter left Oakland for New York for one reason: money. Jim wanted to buy a farm back home in North Carolina and Charlie Finley wouldn’t pay him enough to do it. George would, so Jim signed with the Yankees, took Steinbrenner’s cash, bought his vegetable farm, and did what he was hired to do: win big games and the World Series. Then he retired, went home to rural Hertford, and grew corn.
While Hunter knew how to play the Steinbrenner game, fellow Hall of Famer Dave Winfield did not. George paid big money for big names to do big things in big games. When Winfield struggled in the postseason, Steinbrenner derisively called him “Mr. May,” a public insult Winfield never got over. Winfield was not alone in Big Apple failures. Through the years buses leaving the Bronx were packed full of big money busts.
While it’s tempting for ego-driven business leaders to emulate Steinbrenner’s I-am-the-boss mandate, few who do dramatically overpay employees. Placing the “Lead, Follow, or Get Out of the Way” sign on the desk and anchoring down behind it are easy. So is pounding the desk and beating the chest to announce full kingship. Far harder is inspiring the troops to care, especially when those troops are paid market rates, not a premium, and there are other, less taxing employers in search of good people.
In that regard, business and baseball are the same: talent has options.
Old school empirical management, which George’s style showcased, will not work over the long haul to sustain a vibrant business, unless the business is very small — because omnipotence works only when bandwidth is not exceeded.
While leadership — defined here as “inspiring results through others” — is scalable, “control freak” management is not. Omnipotence has boundaries and finite limits; and by its very nature is fraught with areas vulnerable to leaks, areas like communication, transparency, trust, and employee motivation.
As a company grows, a control freak manager tends to pull wider horizontally. Since time is a finite commodity, stretching has limits and tradeoffs: when you go wide, you cannot go deep. Go deep in one area, sacrifice in others. Control freaks stubbornly try to relentlessly do both — keep going wider and deeper — but cannot. The result is inevitable: sure as the world, tendons will snap.
It is common for an ego-driven monarch to define his identity by the power he or she exerts. Because he or she can become so wrapped up — even consumed — by work, and the business of work, lines blur between life inside the office and life at home.
When things go haywire inside the office, residual negativity radiates. Since radiation never stops at the door, and stress is never static nor goes on vacation, it mushrooms. Ubiquitous and omnipresent, if left unchecked stress will take down even the strongest of men and women. It will also affect others in the organization, many of whom are innocent victims.
As I often remind my executives, “The world is really heavy, if you decide to carry it around.” For the slow learners who insist on trying to prove they really are strong enough to carry it, it is quite okay to put Earth back down the moment the truth quote dawns true.
Once wrapped in our work as our identity, we are vulnerable to the negative effects of things beyond our control. At work we are, by the nature of what we do, orchestrators or contributors, impact players or role players. If we identify ourselves by the success of the organization, we are vulnerable to false judgment. We may have had a great year but the company had a bad one. Or the reverse can happen: We can have a bad year but others pull both their weight and ours. In either case, what are we — a success or a failure? What’s our identity now?
Companies have life cycles, just like people. Earlier this week I was discussing the demise of titanic American brands during a repositioning discussion with an executive I like and admire. The names of the fallen are legendary to gray-haired executives: Kodak, Polaroid, Woolworth’s, Pontiac, Pan Am, Eastern Airlines, Diner’s Club, Blockbuster, Tab (soda), Rustler Steak House, McCall’s Magazine, General Cinema, Chiclets, and, of course, a conga line of others. An ambitious snake charmer could call dozens more logos out of the basket.
In order for a company to maintain its good health, and live as long and vibrantly as possible, it’s not as important to put the “Lead, Follow, or Get Out of the Way” sign on the desk as it is to have the courage to take its advice.
There are times to lead, times to listen and act upon advice (rather than defend our contrary opinion), and times to get the heck out of the way. Smart leaders seek new ideas with an open mind and have the courage to act, even if that means forking off to follow a guide down a road less traveled.
Better decisions rise from teamwork and better decisions deliver better results. None of us is irreplaceable, no matter how much we think we are. None of us is the smartest man or woman in every room we enter. None of us cannot benefit from the wisdom of others.
Over coffee yesterday I urged a talented young professional with inspiring ambition to embrace and never forget one of life’s greatest truisms that had nothing to do with absolute power.
“Your job is what you do to pay the bills,” I said, “your life is what you do with the rest of the money.”
Geese take turns leading the V-formation of the flock because it’s tiring to lead, and beneficial for each who’s taken a turn to rest from the stress and strain of relentless leadership. As such, leading, following, and knowing when to drop back and fly along is also smart for the collective flock.
Have the courage to lead, the humility to follow, and wisdom to know when to fly to the side. Do this as situations dictate, and we all will arrive safely — wherever it is we’re determined to go.