Part 2 of 2
The Impact of Years 0-13 Later in Business
“Lead, follow, or get out of the way.”
Those three options were engraved into the faceplate of a small sign that pointed at guest chairs facing desk of the late George M. Steinbrenner.
Steinbrenner relished his nickname: “The Boss.” He often reminded others that he had no problem operating under the first of those three suggestions. Because he loved to lead, George felt that anyone in his employ or in his way should obediently align with the other two.
Leaders are few but followers are many, which begs a question: “Why?”
In business, like society, the masses tend to follow. What makes someone else different? What makes that man or woman grab the reins and move forward, inspiring others to join the chase?
Much of the leadership gene stems from someone’s upbringing. During our formative years, 0-to-13, our parents or trusted surrogates shape our approach to motivation, action, and achievement. As they do so, they hugely influence our self-image — what we think about ourselves — which, in turn, constructs our self-esteem — how we feel about ourselves.
Our behaviors then chase or reinforce our molded ambitions. We may seek approval by achievement. Or perhaps by “being somebody.” Parental approval is a powerful motivator that starts early and can influence us throughout our lifetime.
Achievement, therefore, is fueled by motivations our influencers instill within us. These are usually one of two things, the pursuit of positive recognition or the fear of failure.
Positive motivators use tricks like “I’ll bet you can’t do that” or “Wow! That’s great! I’m surprised you could do it.”
Negative motivators are more stern. “Don’t disappoint me,” the parent may say. A coach might get in a kid’s face and yell, “Your team is relying on you! Get off your butt and do it! Quit whining! Whatever it takes, do it!”
One of my executive coachees is a remarkable fellow in some ways and a case study in others.
Shortly after college he walked away from a Fortune 500 job to strike out on his own in an industry that is notoriously risk-averse. This alone took guts.
He wanted to build his own company his way, one that reflected his values. He enlisted a couple buddies who shared his vision. Throughout the following years, my friend was the face of the firm. He worked hard and led by doing most of the heavy lifting. The other two, as Steinbrenner’s sign suggested, followed.
Their company grew and grew, taking root as a tiny nobody for whom each early client was a celebratory fire drill. They quickly grew into a well respected regional somebody. The ride to brand name recognition took barely a decade.
It didn’t take long for my friend’s life to leapfrog the environment of his upbringing. He grew up in a family more blue collar than white, in a far smaller house with more modest resources than what he soon acquired.
Pride drove everything. He wanted to “be somebody some day” and zealously pursued his ambition. He wanted to his father’s approval, to show him he could do it. He wanted to show his brothers he loom large, too.
Like all mad scientists, he had his quirks. One was a strong ego that made it hard to delegate, empower, and hold others accountable. He ruled with an iron first, finding it difficult to celebrate greatness in others. Compliments, which are free, were grudgingly issued, usually in a backhanded way.
“That’s better than I thought you’d do,” he might say, or, “I’m surprised you thought of that.”
Phrased this way, these are more insulting than complimentary. Backhanded compliments have never been, and will never be, nuclear fuel rods of inspirational motivation.
Things were okay for about 20 years. When the recession parachuted in, he was forced to deal with an unfamiliar set of leadership challenges. He made a couple bad guesses. Profitability tanked. Employee compensation took a hit, so you can pretty much guess what happened next: Hit your people in the wallet and they will often hit back.
They did. The firm’s board of directors circled the wagons around him, mandating a change of leadership. The numbers took the subjectivity out of their decision.
He did not care. He didn’t like it and pushed back loudly.
The board was no longer listening. What it took to build the firm was not, in its eyes, what it took to run it. Nor would that approach sustain it. From the board’s point of view, the change was overdue.
So, like it or not, they forced it.
Whenever we are confronted by a major change in life, we go through a four-stage circle of emotion.
First is the evolutionary need for the change to come about. Sometimes we’re blind to the buildup but sometimes we aren’t. This is not an emotional trauma to deal with.
The next step, stage two — the Panic Stage — certainly is. Here we internalize the change in its worst possible contest, frame what it means to us (and only us), and react in emotional ways.
This is a normal place to be but unhealthy place to dwell.
The key is to move out of the Panic Stage to stage three — the Acceptance Stage — as quickly as possible. Here we use logic to replace emotion. From here we can advance to stage four — the Flourish Stage. Only when we get to the Flourish Stage can we freely excel under the new reality.
My friend internalized the change as a personal attack, not a business decision. He saw it as a hurtful indictment that disregarded his two-decade track record, his attempts to do the right thing, and his great skills.
He fought the change tenaciously. In many ways, it was the same bulldogged determination that helped him build the company in the first place. He did not hear what they were saying and would not listen. He fought on, refusing to let go.
To the board the need for a change at the top was obvious and overdue.
He saw it differently. He argued every point in steadfast denial.
But the harder he fought, the closer the board grew. This was a fight he could never win.
The intrinsic beliefs and motivations that made my friend a very special leader with the vision and talent to build his company partly hamstrung his ability to respect the differing views of others. He struggled against accepting change, pushed back on his redefined his role within the firm, and was incapable of moving forward in a positive, supportive, and team-centric way.
Inside company walls, the air thickened in cold war. Those who saw things differently he labeled as enemy. You were for him or against him, a good guy or a bad guy.
But as days turned into weeks, allegiances changed. Before he had led a large army. Now he was surrounded by a diminishing few.
Loyalty is situational in life, not eternal. As he wallowed in the Panic Stage and made no real effort to enter the Acceptance Stage, stress and unhappiness increased. The walls were caving in, or so it seemed.
When we step back and study this as a case study, the root of my friend’s challenge is forked: On one hand, a lifelong zeal to make his parents proud was now — in his mind — not just tarnished but irretrievably broken. He was, for the first time, having to take three steps sideways and two steps back. This was no big deal to nine billion others on the planet. To him it was cataclysmic.
Secondly, once we pass the age of 13, how we continually evolve as adults is shaped by how we react to the significant emotional events that are thrust upon us. His life had been a steady stream of mostly good things. But suddenly, when faced by a rearing, snarling grizzly bear he had not seen, he let his ego get in the way.
What others saw from a business point of view he saw as personal. He could not separate the two. Others clearly could.
Zero-to-13 sets the framework for how we will navigate the world. After our formative years, it’s up to us to demonstrate the openness and courage to change, morph, and learn from the big things in life that come our way. This is why some people can reinvent themselves as priorities change and others never will.
There is greatness in all of us. But there is a bigger force we should never forget: There are times in life when we need to lead, there are times we need to tag out and follow; and there are times we need to do the right thing and get the heck out of the way.
A life well-lived requires acting upon the courage of situational management to know embrace the timing and circumstance of all three. Life requires navigation. Doing the right thing may mean trading ego for wisdom or stubbornness for coaching.
Great players are well coached. More importantly, they incorporate new techniques into their skill set. That’s hard to do the first time, not so hard the second. Try it and see.