Multipliers

I've just finished reading Liz Wiseman's book, Multipliers (on the recommendation of an academic, who saw parallels with the approach I had taken to facilitating a leadership meeting he attended).

The subtitle is How the best leaders make everyone smarter, and Wiseman contrasts Multipliers (who multiply the collective intelligence, contribution and commitment within their sphere of influence) with Diminishers, who dominate and discourage people from thinking for themselves, taking the initiative and so on.

My first thoughts are that Wiseman has dressed McGregor's Theory X and Theory Y in new clothes, with a nod at the knowledge economy. Back in the 1950s, McGregor articulated the different management styles of those who assumed workers are lazy, and those who assumed they were keen to contribute; and how the styles tended to become self-fulfilling prophecies. That is, if you consistently treat workers as though you expect them to skive off at every opportunity, you will create an environment when they will see management as the enemy, and try to get away with whatever they can. Conversely, if you expect the best of them, you are more likely to create an environment in which they contribute their best efforts.

It is hard to see much difference in Wiseman's Diminisher and Multiplier assumptions. The Diminisher  assumption she offers is: People will never figure this out without me; and the Multiplier assumption is: People are smart and can figure it out.

Having said that, the book is useful in bringing this fundamental point to people's attention in a thought-provoking and memorable way. As one reads, one can quickly identify managers one knows who act as Diminishers - reducing their staff's room for contribution, and ultimately their commitment, creativity and morale; or conversely those who act as Multipliers, expecting and creating the conditions for staff to give of their best.  And following on from that, one can look in the mirror and start to reflect on one's own practice. 

However, I found her taxonomy of Talent Magnets, Liberators, Challengers, Debate Makers and Investors less convincing and less helpful. It seemed to me that she was merely restating the central thesis in slightly different contexts over and over; and the same was true of the multiple examples of people who exemplify her theory. That results in the book being over-long, somewhat confusing, and very easy to put down. Multiplying pages is not, perhaps, a virtue.

Nonetheless, I was glad to have read it, and would recommend it to anyone who has either lots of time and patience, or the ability to skim and extract the key ideas without wading through the whole lot.

Pedagogy of the Heart

"But it's simply not true!" the senior leader told me. "We consult them all the time!" He was frustrated - and bruised - by the Staff Survey; and some of the specifics, like a complaint from Department Heads that they were never consulted, particularly rankled.

I bit my tongue. And he calmed down a little, and continued to think. "We could, I suppose, do a sort of You said we did piece of comms work?..." He looked at me for my response. I looked back at him.

"You're right" he said, although I had said (and I think indicated) nothing. I think he was probably talking to himself. "That would merely demonstrate that we don't listen - which is just what they are complaining about.  Logic isn't really going to cut it here.  If I have learned one thing, it is that you can't argue when people are emotionally upset. And whatever the specifics, I think the message of this survey is that they are upset - or downright angry might be nearer the mark...."

I continued to listen, completely fascinated.

"So what do we do?  What would I want the senior team to do if I were in their shoes - angry, frustrated, feeling under-valued?  Because that's what this is really about. The specifics may be wrong (or not entirely true, to be really fair...), but if they want to give us a good kicking, that's where it's coming from."

I wondered where he was going with this.

He continued to think out loud, considering when and by whom he had felt valued, when he had worked as a Department Head. He concluded that it was a particular leader who had made time for him; who had listened to him without telling him what to do, but had been ready to warn him if he was considering something really unwise...;  who had taken risks, championing his ideas... and he realised that he and his colleagues were generally too busy to do that. Because there was always so much to be done - so many problems to address, crises to attend to, decisions to be made and communicated.  And then he stopped short.

"That's it! That's what we've got to do. We've got to shift our attention - in fact our intention - from making things happen (which is what drives the perception that we are too 'command and control') to enabling great leadership. We've staffed this place up with good people but we don't let them get on with it. If we do that, they will start to feel that we believe in them and value them. And I'm sure that's where we need to start. So my job is to coach my senior team into doing that."

He visibly relaxed.

"Thank you Andrew: that has been so helpful. I always find your advice really valuable!"

I thanked him and smiled inwardly. The advice had certainly been valuable, but it was his advice to himself. I had just co-created the Thinking Environment in which he had developed it.

As I reflected on the session, the phrase Pedagogy of the Heart came to mind, so I wrote this blog post.

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With thanks to Yogendra Singh and Tim Marshall for sharing their photos on Unsplash

Artificial Authenticity

Authenticity is a bit like motherhood and apple pie. One can't exactly be against it. Much of the literature on leadership talks about the importance of authenticity, and I think that is right. It is quite clear that people are unlikely to trust and follow a leader who is duplicitous, and inconsistent in words and actions.*  

But I think that the issue of authenticity bears some scrutiny. To take a simple, domestic, example, there are times when my wife (to whom I have been happily married for nearly forty years) can press my buttons, as it were, with such uncanny accuracy that I would gladly biff her on the head with a frying pan.**

Yet I don't. Would it be more authentic to do so, if that is what I am truly feeling at that moment?  I don't think so.  And the reason I don't think so is that we are complex beings, and our true self (our authentic self) is not merely the expression of the transient emotions that we experience at a moment in time. 

So what is authentic behaviour in that context?  I think it is about aligning our behaviour with our best version of ourself. The reason I don't biff Jane with a frying pan (or at least, one of the reasons) is that it is not true to who I am striving to be, or to become.  And by consistently not biffing her with a frying pan for forty years, I have now so developed my character, that I think I can fairly say that I am a non-violent husband, and I think that is a good thing - and indeed an authentic thing - for me to be. 

However, in a sense that authenticity is artificial: it is a learned behaviour - a discipline to refrain from acting on my immediate, and doubtless authentic, emotional response.

But where I think it differs from a problematic inauthenticity lies in the realm of intention. I am genuinely, and consistently, trying to be a loving husband. It is when that genuine and consistent intention is lacking, that someone's behaviour is more likely to be inauthentic in the problematic way.  And the problem with that understanding is that we cannot see another person's intention; we can only deduce it.

However, for myself, I can be clear: it is not inauthentic to aspire to be better than I am; indeed that is, for me, an essential part of becoming ever more authentic.

* I leave aside the rather extraordinary state of our political systems from this discussion...

** Hyperbole, but I'm sure you recognise what I am describing.

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With thanks to  Slava,  Aleksandra Tanasiienko, and Sammy Williams for sharing their photos on Unsplash

Leadership in Lockdown

I have been very interested to hear how leaders have been reacting to the COVID crisis and the strains it has placed on their organisations.  Two leaders, in particular, have interesting stories: one the CEO of a small charity, the other a leader of a significant health and education organisation.

The charity CEO did a few things that struck me as very impressive. Like many charities, their funding was extremely curtailed as many of their normal fundraising opportunities were closed down. The CEO's strategy was to take a dramatic paycut himself, to gather the team and ask them to consider what drop in pay they (individually) could afford to take for a while and then commit to that, to focus as many of the team as possible of grant-seeking/application activities; and (and this was particularly interesting) to reduce staffing by having all senior staff work two weeks on and two weeks off, in an overlapping pattern.  That resulted in a balanced approach that contrasted strongly with other organisations I know, where some staff were worked to exhaustion and beyond, whilst others were stuck at home unable to do anything - and both groups resenting the other... Then, they landed a large grant, and all were immediately reinstated to their previous pay levels, and the team's commitment and mutual solidarity is considerably enhanced.

The other leader expanded his leadership team, to include more and younger members, in the face of an overwhelming increase in demands for decisions and complexity of issues to consider. He delegated more than he has ever done before - he is the first to admit that he likes a hands-on leadership approach, and to know  what is going on; but that proved impossible. Team members really stepped up, and some of the younger ones in particular far exceeded his expectations. The wider community's trust in the leadership team was enhanced by their competent handling of the crisis, and the leader has now convened a team workshop to examine how and why they were so successful during the crisis, and how to take that learning forward. One of the lessons he knows that he has to apply is to maintain his new-found ability to delegate much more significantly, even though that is against his personal habits and preferences.

All of which raises the interesting question: how do we ensure that the lessons learned during this crisis are learned and shared widely, so that we get what good we can from it?

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Thanks to Dylan Gillis and Nick Fewings for sharing their work on Unsplash.

Control and Trust

I have been thinking recently about control and trust. One of the organisations with which I work is keen to build more trust as part of its culture. That follows the retirement of a CEO who was very controlling.  He was highly competent, very knowledgeable, and normally had the good of the organisation at heart - but he ruled with a rod of iron, and that had some unfortunate side effects (as well as keeping things running very smoothly). One, it seems to me, is that many people were infantilised.  

Even senior people, with large personalities seem to struggle to take on responsibility. And managers throughout the organisation struggle to trust others (peers or subordinates) to do anything beyond the routine.  In a fast-changing industry, that is problematic.

Discussing this with some senior people, it became clear to me that part of the problem was a failure to distinguish between control and controls.

Jane in our GP14 on Ullswater

When I was challenging them to trust more, it kept coming back to a fear of losing control - and then disastrous things might happen. They accept that they need to be able to delegate more - and to trust more - but the c-word keeps coming up.

But if one thinks about controls, rather than control, things change. The analogy I like is sailing my dinghy on Ullswater. One of the joys of dinghy sailing is the immediacy and impact of feedback: get it wrong, and you are quickly in the water, wet, cold and spluttering.

If I am sailing with someone less skilled than I am (and that's a pretty low bar...) and want to be sure not to capsize, the easiest thing is to take control, and sail the boat myself.  But if I want to be free to do other things (take a few photos, perhaps), then I need to hand over control.  And to do that with confidence, I need to teach the other person how to use the controls. These are simple enough in a dinghy: the mainsheet, the tiller...  

James takes the controls...

But I think the analogy good for organisational life: if the right controls are in place, and the person to whom we are delegating understands both the requirements of the task, and the controls and their purpose, then we can afford to take the risk of trusting them with the tasks at hand.

So rather than focusing on control (which can really be a proxy for our own ego needs) it is more valuable to ensure that we really understand the necessary controls: and then we can hand over control - and free ourselves for more strategic leadership activities.

Why is truth-telling so hard?

I was at a meeting recently with a couple of very senior people (Let's call them A & B) and an HR person (let's call him X).

X had convened the meeting to discuss a proposal I'd written at X's invitation for a piece of work in the organisation, which A & B would need both to approve and be actively involved in developing and delivering.

Early on, I asked A & B if they had had a copy of my proposal - I didn't want to go over the whole thing again if they had, but I have learned to take nothing for granted.  They both said that they hadn't and X said he would send it through to them after our meeting.

As we left the meeting, X told me that he had indeed sent the proposal through to A & B before the meeting, but had thought it better not to mention that.

And so the truth was not told.

And I get that - I am sure that I have done similar in similar situations, and may well do so again.  But I have been ruminating on it ever since and a few things strike me.

One is that X's silence is easily understood: X did not want to embarrass A & B, especially in front of an outsider; and may have been wary of the consequences had he done so.

A second is that X may have been right. I don't know the organisational culture, or A or B as individuals, and it may be that X would have been victimised for pointing out that the document was in fact in both of their in-boxes.

And what harm was done, after all? Just a white lie, to save face for busy senior people.

But actually, I think harm was done.

For example, A & B may think X is less competent than he is - he should have sent the paper in advance.  Or they may discover it in their in-boxes and realise that he had sent it - and then judge him for not saying so. They have also been denied a learning opportunity: how was it that their systems had not flagged that there was a paper they should have read for this meeting? And X's behaviour suggests, and colludes with, a culture where the truth is not spoken to senior people, which is very unhealthy.

All of which reminds me of Patrick Lencioni on trust (and the associated need for vulnerability), and also later on telling the truth (with regard to accountability) and how easy it is to excuse ourselves from doing so.

Of course, it is easier for me as an outsider, to tell the truth: I can walk away more easily if it goes wrong.  And of course, that gives me a graver obligation to do so.

And that reflection makes me think of the organisations where I am not an outsider: a couple of charities with which I work. In one, I have some leadership responsibilities, and in the other I am a pawn on the ground, as it were. But in both cases there are issues about which I am having to think carefully about telling the truth.  

And the reason in both cases is that I have raised issues or queries quite openly and with little forethought, and then found that I have been met with a very strong, negative reaction from senior people.  Which brings me back to my question: why is truth-telling so hard?  And in the organisational context, it is frequently because of the (fear of) potentially negative responses of those with power.

Yet organisations need the truth to be told; leaders need people to be able to speak honestly and openly to them; or else they are leading without complete information, and possibly without insight.  And the led (including me) need to find the courage to speak our truth, and also the wisdom to do that in a way that reduces the likelihood of a defensive response - but we need not let the fear of such a response stop us from speaking all together, or we collude with the dysfunctionality of the organisation.

What am I reading?

You know that feeling when you really ought to write a blog post (target: one a week; last one a fortnight ago…) and you have no ideas whatsoever?... it happens to all of us, of course…

And then I thought it might conceivably be of some interest to someone, somewhere, to know what I am currently reading (by way of CPD, I mean, not the Damon Runyon short stories that I am reading for pleasure at the moment, admirably entertaining though they undoubtedly are).

So here goes. I am in the middle of two books at present. The first is Richard Olivier’s Inspirational Leadership: Timeless Lessons for Leaders from Shakespeare's Henry V.

I love the idea of this, and I imagine that the workshops that he runs, using Shakespeare’s text as a stimulus, are exciting and provoke real insight. But somehow there is a difference between that and Olivier taking us through the lessons of each Act.  All worthy stuff, but it just feels a bit platitudinous: ‘Be ready to confront your traitors, internal as well as external.’ That kind of stuff.  I can well believe that when one is working on the text, and suddenly sees the parallels between Richard’s situation and treachery of Cambridge, say, and one’s own experience with the head of another department, it is a valuable revelation. But to have the lesson spelt out in the abstract doesn’t quite cut it.

I bought the book with high expectations, as I really love the concept, but I have to say I am reading it slowly and without either huge enjoyment or huge learning.

The other book I am immersed in at the moment is Challenging Coaching, by Blakey and Day. Again, I like the idea – moving beyond empathy, rapport and listening, important as those are, and the rather simplistic GROW model so beloved of those who train coaches…

This time, however, I am not disappointed. I think that Blakey and Day are really onto something, even though I think there is a certain naivety and over-simplification in their critique of what they see as normal coaching heretofore. The idea that contracting is important, for example, doesn’t seem to be a new discovery…

The heart of the book is based on the acronym FACTS, which stands for Feedback, Accountability, Challenging goals, Tension, and Systems Thinking; and although I haven’t read the detailed chapters on each of these, yet, the acronym alone has provoked some interesting thoughts and indeed experiments in my coaching practice.

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I expect to write more about this one, once I have finished it (not least because I have committed to run a session on it for Cumbria Coaching Network in a few months, so need to think further and experiment with it in real life, so that I have some basis for the workshop!)

The Pursuit of Happiness

At Cardiff Futures this week, we had a session with the inspirational Aileen Richards. She had a long corporate career with Mars, and is the first woman on the Board of the Welsh Rugby Union.

She raised many interesting aspects of leadership, illustrated by anecdotes from her 30 years of corporate experience, and led a highly-engaged discussion with participants. 

One point she made that has been causing me to reflect was based on an article about parenting that she had read many years ago. It started by reflecting that most parents say; 'I just want my children to be happy.' That sounds a bit motherhood-and-apple-pie. But, the article continued, what they should say is; 'I just want my children to be kind.' 

The point was that is people are kind, happiness will follow, as will other good things. And I think that there is much truth in that.  But I have also been reflecting on the other part of the proposition: the pursuit of happiness (which is famously written into the US Declaration of Independence. 

For I think implicit in the idea Aileen was proposing, and made more explicit in other contexts, is the notion that happiness is actually a by-product of other things. The direct pursuit of happiness is likely to be counter-productive - for it provokes a focus on the self, and on one's own state of mind and emotion that is likely to lead to a selfish outlook: and it is a matter of common observation that selfish people don't tend to be happy.  Conversely, if one considers the truly happy people one knows, it is pretty clear that they don't focus on pursuing happiness: they have more meaningful things to do with their lives. 

Of course, Aristotle was on the case, back in the day: he maintained that true happiness is to be found by pursuing the virtues.  And I think he may have been onto something.

Tango and Leadership

On Friday, I went to a session on Tango and Leadership at Cumbria Coaching Network  led by Sue Cox. I nearly didn't go - I mean, me and dance... (ask my children...) 

But it was very valuable and very enjoyable (both to my surprise). I went partly because of my heightened awareness of shame as a blocker, due to Jacqui Sjenitzer's workshop - so thought I should ignore that and go anyway.

Not so much this...

Sue was excellent. She started with a brief introduction, including an explanation of the difference between show dances (precisely choreographed) and the kind of tango she is interested in (co-created in the moment, danced by two people who probably have never met before, in response to music that is not of their choosing and which they may not know, and in a crowded space, full of others also dancing...). She also set the context in terms of leadership: the fact that complexity, change and systemic interdependency mean that one can neither predict the future nor prescribe the response: one needs to co-create in the moment...

... more this

She also talked of her own experience: having got good at Tango in the UK, she went to Buenos Aires, and quickly realised that she had to unlearn a lot; and she then learned some wrong things by naive observation (stick your bottom out, for example). But the posture of Argentinian women dancing the tango is driven by their core, not by an intention to stick their bottom out: and that makes a huge difference.

And then we started to think about dancing. And again, Sue wrong-footed me, as it were, by saying the one thing we would not be doing was learning any steps. She demonstrated a few formal ballroom steps and asked if that was dancing: the way she did them, it clearly was not. Dance, she explained is something different - especially the kind of dance she is interested in.

So we started, instead, by truly connecting with ourselves - familiar stuff to those of us who have done any work with mindfulness. The next thing was to engage our core. Those who are familiar with Pilates, and most athletes, will know about the importance of the core muscles: that group of muscles including the abdominal muscles and the muscles around the bottom length of the spine. For me, it is the place from which I sing (when I am singing well), and indeed speak. Sue's point is that good dance movement originates from the core, and that legs and arms are free to move when the core is engaged and the focus of attention. The third thing we learned to attend to was our connection with the ground: pushing our feet into the ground, even as we engaged our core to allow our backs to lengthen and widen and our limbs to move freely.  I quickly found that I was moving quite differently; and also that my concerns about my two left feet seemed entirely irrelevant (which was very welcome).

What has all this to do with leadership? In Tango, this is what the leader - and also the follower - need to attend to before they are ready to dance. Sue described this as personal leadership - connecting with ourself, engaging with our core, and being properly grounded. The parallels with leadership in organisations are not merely metaphorical...

And then we moved on to consider how to lead and be led. Again, we did some interesting work on creating a connection that was energised; rather than just leading or being led, actually engaging with the other, with a true desire to do something creative together. That is something so visceral that you can tell the difference in the way your partner holds your arms. Then it is possible to project your intention by the smallest of movements, inviting the other to respond, either as you expect, or possibly in an unexpected but creative way, contributing to the co-creation of the dance, in response to the music. We practiced the difference between leading a truly engaged follower, one who might push back, as opposed to a passive follower who merely did what was expected, and how much more creative the process was with the engaged follower. Indeed the distinction between leader and follower often fell away, as both engaged in the co-creation of something that could not be choreographed in advance.

So that is the second set of connections with leadership: Connecting and Collaborating - and the notion that the quality of the relationship is at the heart of leading and being led. In fact, the Argentinians don't talk of leading and being led. The verb they prefer is marcar, which might literally be translated as to mark, but has the connotations of to suggest, invite, open up space for...  So the key issues were the importance of engaged connection, clear communication of intention, co-creation and mutual trust, and responding to the changing external stimuli; and again the parallels with leadership in organisations are not merely metaphorical...

We were running out of time (and puff - it was all surprisingly tiring) but had time for another set of brief reflections, about the language we use around leadership, and the interesting things that can happen when we use language (and thinking) that is not all about power.

I don't think I have quite done the session justice, but it was very good indeed. You can see Sue's TEDx talk on the subject here:

Shame and Guilt

Over the last couple of days, I have been at a Daring Way workshop, run by Jacqui Sjenitzer, and based on the work of Brené Brown (see here for an account of a previous workshop with Jacqui on this material).  I will blog more about the workshop overall (it was excellent) when I have had time to reflect on it further. In this post I want to pursue one particular line of thought. 

One of the many helpful distinctions that Brown makes is between guilt and shame. According to her understanding, guilt is 'I did something bad,' and shame is 'I am bad.' Further, she states that shame is positively correlated to addiction, depression, and many other problems; whilst guilt is inversely correlated to them: it leads to much better outcomes.

That led one of the participants on the programme to say: "People talk about Catholic guilt; but really it's Catholic shame..."

I understand that for many people, that may be their experience of Catholicism; and I am not going to argue with their lived reality. However, it is also my experience that the opposite is true, and that my Catholic upbringing, at least, has allowed me to deal appropriately with guilt and not be shackled by shame. We didn't get into that discussion on the workshop - it would have been a fairly major digression, and Jacqui wanted us to move on. So here are my reflections.

My thesis is that Catholicism is very powerful. And like anything that is powerful, when abused, it becomes very destructive. But used properly, it is a great force for good.

I was pleased that one of the other participants, at the end of the programme, chose to share a quotation attributed to Mother Teresa, which she felt summed up the spirit of the course:

People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway.

 What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway. 

The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway. 

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God.  It was never between you and them anyway.

That, it seems to me, is an example of Catholicism done properly.

One of the things that interests me is how much of the new wisdom on how to live a healthy, happy and successful life is already embedded in the Catholicism in which I was raised.

From Viktor Frankl, we learn of the importance of meaning and purpose: from my upbringing, I know that my meaning and purpose are to love and be loved.

In a world that seems ever more bitterly divided, I hold fast to my Faith that all were created by love, in love, and for love.

To move on from difficult stuff, Brown (and others) teach us that we need to acknowledge it, learn from it, apologise or make amends when appropriate, and then leave it behind. Many use therapy to help with this. In my tradition, that need is met by a daily examination of conscience, prayers of contrition, a resolution to do better next time, confession, and absolution. The psychological benefits of this practice, alone, are extraordinary (when correctly practiced, of course).

The research on the benefits of meditation is convincing many people of the importance of this as a daily practice. We learned that from the Desert Fathers (and Christ himself, of course), and daily meditation is the cornerstone of a life of prayer.

Almost every book on leadership talks of the importance of integrity, based on clear values. I strive to run my business (and indeed life) according to the values of Faith, Hope and Charity; and informed by justice, prudence, temperance and fortitude. (Temperance is not a fashionable word, but it is vigilance against excess: and how much that is needed at present!). My favourite (and recurrent) feedback is that I help to re-kindle or strengthen hope.

We are learning more and more about the beneficial effects of the practice of gratitude. From my earliest years, I have been taught to give thanks for every day, for every meal on the table..., in fact for everything.

As I say, I recognise that others have had a dreadful experience of a Catholic upbringing, and that is truly tragic (and shameful for the Church). But I think that the other story also deserves to be told; the formation that inspired not only Mother Teresa, but also Maximilian Kolbe, the friar who volunteered to die in place of a stranger in Auschwitz, Lech Walesa, the leader of Solidarity, and countless others in every field of human endeavour.

The Value of Iteration

The last few weeks have been very interesting. I am busy working with a client on the development of a significant leadership programme to launch next year.  Based on an initial conversation with the head of the organisation about some interesting work I have been doing elsewhere, we agreed that I should speak with senior people in the organisation, as well as the managers of potential participants, and some of the potential participants themselves.

The fundamental model includes a large element of participant involvement in the design: ie on day 1 of the programme (which is modular over several months) they say what they would most value working on during subsequent days.

However, in order to invite people to the programme and give them some information to help them decide whether it is for them, and also to give some shape to the day 1 co-design exercise, it is necessary to have a high-level outline and structure; and some ideas of the types of content they can choose between. A completely blank sheet of paper would not be helpful (at least, in this particular organisational culture - I can imagine trying that elsewhere!)

So I started by asking a number of senior people for their ideas, and based on a structure which one of them proposed, and others endorsed, I then had focus groups with potential participants, and their managers. These radically re-designed the draft programme in a number of significant ways; and to their credit the senior managers are accepting that even though there were benefits of the original proposed programme which are now being lost (but other benefits, of higher perceived value to the participants, are being gained). In fact the final revision is closer to the model I have used elsewhere than our first draft here…

And of course if we are to launch next spring, which is the ambition, we really need to get invitations out before Christmas, so that people can plan their diaries accordingly. So we are having to get final agreement in something of a rush, and, for reasons of geography, mainly by remote communications.

But I think we are almost there. And although it has felt a somewhat messy process, and almost as though we were going in circles at times, I am convinced it was worth it.

In the first place, it is essential to ensure the relevance of the programme to the participants as well as to the organisation. Likewise, it is important that the relevance is recognised: involving people in the process gives them more of a stake in the outcome. That is equally true of the line managers, who will be encouraging people to make time for the programme.  But also, we are learning a lot about the organisation by the mere fact of doing this: the different ways in which people in different roles conceive of the issues is itself very useful information. Further, there is something about getting the conversation - and the thinking - going about leadership before we even start that programme that may well prove helpful.

But I have to admit to a certain relief that we are nearly at the end of (the first part of) the seemingly endless iteration...

Enriching the Plot - through film

This week, our first year of the Vice Chancellor's Leadership programme at Winchester came to an end. We concluded with a day of reflection, planning and celebration. As part of that, we invited participants to work in groups to make a film, summarising their learning from the year.

It is a challenge I often set groups, and I am almost always impressed by the creativity they bring to the task. This year at Winchester, we were treated to a Lego movie, a silent movie, an animated alphabet of learning, and a trip along a wonderful model/map of their learning journey.

But I was reflecting on another aspect of this task, this year, in the light of my recently completed book (did I mention I'd written a book?...)  At the end of a programme like this, people will naturally have many stories about it available to them; some parts were better than others, some days less useful than the very best, and so on. Likewise, different members of the group will have different stories about it too. In an academic context, and one in which we have run a pilot programme and are seeking feedback to improve it, there is a risk that the critical comments may come to the fore.

Yet in terms of sustained learning from the programme, and in particular in terms of a continuing sense of agency, which I see as a significant benefit from this particular programme, such a story is not the most helpful one for people to leave with.

So one of the benefits of the film-making (as well as being a lot of fun, which helps to meet the 'celebratory' part of the brief for the day) is that it focuses on the positive learning, and by the process of developing a storyboard, builds a narrative structure for that learning - a story. Then, by translating that narrative structure into an entertaining piece of film, participants strengthen that story in their own minds: enriching the plot, as I term it in my model.

So my hope is that participants will take away that positive story, as encapsulated both in the film and in the enjoyable and energising process of making the film; and that will the their dominant story about the programme: a story that will help them to retain and apply the positive learning from the programme with an enhanced sense of agency.

Emotions, Thoughts and Meditation

I am a fan of Goleman's work on Emotional Intelligence, and particularly as applied to Leadership (see The New Leaders).

One of the many reasons it appeals to me, is that it starts with the self. Rather than describe what a leader should do or say to others, in order to lead, it starts with the leader increasing his or her self-awareness: noticing, and then learning to regulate, what is going on for oneself emotionally.

However, recently I was talking with a leader I know. He is, I think, a good leader and manages his emotions effectively most of the time, which also enables him to lead others well, in the way Goleman et al suggest. However, he was telling me of a recent occasion when he 'lost his rag' in a senior meeting.  

The occasion was relatively trivial: and indeed that was what infuriated him. Senior people seemed to him to be squabbling about something of little or no consequence. It was silly and it was a waste of time, in a meeting when there was much serious work to be done.

All of which prompted me to think that it is not sufficient to notice and regulate one's emotional responses, important though that may be. Under pressure (or for other less obvious reasons, in this case probably a combination of overwork, exhaustion and exasperation) the emotions may leak out and one may lose one's rag.

So there is a prior discipline: of considering how we are making sense of the world, and doing so in a way that does not lead to us having to manage sudden emotional responses. There are many approaches to this, including CBT based approaches, for example, and my work on Story (did I mention, I have finished the book - there is just a little editing to be done now...?). So as well as the emotional component, we have to attend to the rational. But the other component, I think, is the spiritual: the cultivation of serenity, through a spiritual discipline to match the intellectual and emotional disciplines. 

That, I think, is what meditation has to offer, and why it is being rediscovered as an important part of the repertoire for those seeking to be truly effective. I have blogged before about my own developing discipline, here. I was reminded of the impact that this practice is having once again, when a couple of fairly major issues popped out of the woodwork, and I found that I was not only able to cope with them calmly, but also to feel calm throughout - which meant there was no danger of inadvertent leakage of inner turmoil.

Meditation is one of those things for which we feel we never have time: after all, it feels as though we are doing nothing - a terrible waste of time! But increasingly, I am convinced that investing time in meditating (a little, regularly) is saving me huge amounts of both time and energy.

Conditioned Leaders?

I have been discussing leadership in universities with a few people recently, and a conversation with one earlier this week took my thinking a bit further.

He was lamenting the lack of academics on the senior leadership team of his Institution (of which he himself is a member). Some of his colleagues protested that, pointing out that a number of the other members of the team were also academics.

His response was that they weren't really, or at least did not behave like academics: they had 'gone over' as it were, to the managerial side.

So his proposal was to increase the number of academics, in the hope that they would argue the academic, as opposed to managerial, case (assuming there to be some distinction between the two) at the strategic level.

However, I was not convinced. Is there something about joining such a team, I wonder, that made 'going over' more likely? Because if so, then appointing more academics to the team would not achieve the result my academic friend wanted.

I have a few hypotheses I am tempted by, which might explain why that might be the case. 

One is extrapolated from the famous Stanford Prison experiment. Don't push the analogy too far (I am not suggesting that all senior leadership teams in academia are brutal to those over whom they exercise authority); but is there something about being put in the position of a senior manager that makes one think and behave more like a senior manager? 

A second hypothesis is that the type of academic who might be attracted (or even persuaded) to join the senior leadership time is the type of academic who is interested in managerial type thinking, and therefore is bound to go native once in that environment.

A third hypothesis is informed by Barry Oshry's excellent book, Seeing Systems, about which I have blogged before. That would suggest that the thinking and behaviour of those in senior leadership teams is a function of their role in the social system: they are, in Oshry's terms, 'Tops' and tend to think and behave as Tops always do.

All of which raise interesting questions, as they suggest that increasing the academic representation on the senior team might simply increase the number of 'academics behaving like managers' on the senior team; rather than increasing the number who see their role primarily as advocating the interests of academics against 'creeping managerialism.'

I am not discussing, here, whether that is a fair characterisation. My own view, for what it's worth is that a degree of centralisation and standardisation are important, to maintain health and safety, meet legal and quality requirements, and so on; beyond that I am a great believer in subsidiarity. 

But what interests me particularly is the view of many academics I speak to that those who lead their institution seem, to them, to have left behind their understanding of what it is really like to write bids, win grants, lead research groups, and recruit and educate students on a day to day basis;  I am not sure that is true, but I can see why it might seem like that, and would like to help rectify that. But I think it is more complex than increasing the number of academics on the senior team.

Delegation

Another of those perennial issues which many of my clients find it helpful to discuss and work on is delegation. So here are my summary notes. As always, I am interested in discussion and am open to learning. 

Delegation is giving a member of your staff the responsibility and the authority to carry out part of your role, while retaining accountability.

Note that delegation is giving part of your job away: telling some typists which things to type is not delegation, it is work allocation.

And that is why it can be scary. On the one hand, it is your work, and naturally we all assume that they can never do it to the same standard that we can. However, it is important to delegate for two important reasons. The first is to free you to have the thinking time to do the most strategic parts of your role properly.  The second is to develop and grow staff, which is both enriching for them and important for the organisation.

Note in particular three key words in that definition:

1  Responsibility means that the individual is responsible for deciding how and when to do the tasks (within limits set by yourself: eg a final deadline).

2  Authority means that the individual may use resources, gather information, and take decisions, as though she or he were you, (again within limits set by yourself: eg talk to you before spending more than £X).

3  Accountability means that the buck stops with you. If your member of staff makes a mistake, it is up to you to take the blame! There are two reasons for that: one is that it is part of your job that has gone wrong. The other is that if something goes wrong, you have probably not delegated properly.

Control Mechanisms: Because the buck stops with you, you will need to set some control mechanisms in place: eg limits beyond which the individual cannot go with out checking with you, and agreed times for progress checks.

These should relate to the individual's confidence and competence, and the importance of the task delegated. You want to give the individual as much freedom and room for action as he or she can manage, without taking undue risks.

Once the control mechanisms are established, let the individual get on with the task: don't hover, interrupt, offer unsolicited advice....

Delegation Checklist

What parts of my job or project cannot be delegated?

(Eg because they are confidential, involve disciplinary or other sensitive personnel issues etc.)

What shall I delegate, and to whom?

(Consider developmental needs of staff, tasks which are likely to recur etc)

How shall I brief, train and support them?

1 What context do they need to understand? 

2 What are the desired results? 

3 What are the guidelines? 

4 What resources are available 

5 What training or other support do they need? 

6 How will performance be measured? 

7 What control mechanisms are appropriate? 

8 When will progress reports be given? 

9 What are the consequences of accomplishing or not accomplishing the results? 

10 When will we review the work (and learning)?

Who else needs to know that I have delegated this task?

(eg other managers with whom the individual will interact on your behalf)

How will I build the trust necessary for effective and empowering delegation?

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Be brave!