Continuing the series on my behavior guidelines...here's the list:
1. Be a gentleman and a professional at all times.
2. Be the person who deserves the things you want.
3. Never complain or explain.
4. Take credit and responsibility.
5. Everyone is special.
6. Always improve.
I won't try to separate #3 from #4. Together, they are my defense against some of the easiest and most socially acceptable ways to compromise your integrity.
The first guideline brings to mind the old quote:
"It is better to remain silent and appear a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt."
Also Proverbs 17:28:
28 Even fools are thought wise when they keep silent;
with their mouths shut, they seem intelligent.
Picture this explanation, given over a spilled drink:
"Giles was running and he threw the ball, and Ryan jumped to grap it and hit Julie in the chin and she started crying and I dropped my drink when I went to hug her!"
Wouldn't silence, or "I spilled my drink," have been a more honest answer? The adult version goes something like this:
"We've been using oil to heat this plant for twenty five years, and every time there was a leak near the heating manifold the smoke and smell were so bad we shut down, cleaned up and fixed the leak before anything happened. This time, the fire came first."
There are any number of others in our adult world.
"In that situation, no man could resist..."
"How can I be expected to ... when he speaks to me that way?"
"This economy is making everyone pull back--we just did what we had to."
"Of course, it makes sense when that much money is at stake."
"You have to deal with them on their own level..."
"He was waiting behind the hill and just wanted to pull a red sports car..."
"That's the only discipline that works..."
"I did it for her own good..."
Enough. While actions and results can speak for themselves, we use the accompanying verbiage to deflect attention, but it has the reverse effect of exposing our insecurity, our lack of control and our lack of judgement. It shows cowardice on behalf of the speaker, and reveals a self-hate and a self-deception that will leave you extraordinarily sad if you dwell on it for even a moment.
It also works with respect to good things. Consider common responses to "You look beautiful."
"It's the dim lighting," or "It's the dress," or even, "No I don't."
The only proper response to a well-intentioned compliment is "Thank you," and a smile. Anything else shines a spotlight on our own lack of self-worth.
Complaints cut the same way:
"He's so domineering."
"Can you believe they put up with ... behavior?"
"There isn't a good leader in the whole company."
"The government is too big/small, and they just won't cut/increase taxes enough!"
"There's no business out there."
"I can't take 8 hours of ..."
"Can you believe they dress like that?"
"I hate when they talk about me!"
The inference, in each of these, is that somehow we are above or better than what we are describing, and if only <that> were fixed, then our lives would be so much improved. There is a reason that the first step to curing alcoholism is to admit that you are an alcoholic--you first have to take responsibility.
4. Take credit and responsibility
I miss my old management team. We met over lunch every Monday and talked about what had happened, what our plan was and what we were going to do to stay on or get back on track. When we communicated to the Board, we did so in the form of "Accomplishments" and "Disappointments."
For the accomplishments, we stated the things we had achieved, the parts of the plan that were on or ahead of schedule, the things of which we were proud. These orders were made and shipped, those patents were issued, this customer made this prototype, this quality level achieved... We shared credit without deflecting it. When we could, we celebrated what had gone particularly well, especially the individuals that led the effort, all within the context of a team accomplishment.
For the disappointments, it was the same. What had not gone according to plan, was behind schedule or below target? We talked about them and how we were going to adapt, what needed to be adjusted. The heading said it all: "Here are the things we have not done as well as we would have liked. It is our responsibility and we accept it." I tried to make the lists of equal length, though it varied from month to month. The system framed the conversation and kept the focus on helping the team to do the best that could be done.
I once had a board member who complained, "You never give us any bad news." I laughed, "I give you a whole page of disappointments at every month!" In his complaint he was likely describing his own agenda more than our lack of communication.
Lately, since leaving Innegrity, I am often asked what happened, why it is failing. I don't mind telling the story, but always frame it with, "I was the CEO and was responsible for everything that happened in the company, good and bad." I then can tell the story in it's entirety, without dodging responsibility, celebrating the accomplishments while giving the disappointments their full air time. I can talk about what I learned, what I don't yet understand and how I have grown. People take the story in different ways, and I let the facts speak for themselves.
In the end, my confidence comes because I do not measure my self-worth from financial success, prestige, peoples' opinions of me or other worldly measures. I stand on much firmer ground, and get my confidence from someone who gave His life for me before I was born because He knew I wouldn't be good enough by any of those measures. I sometimes see in people's response as I tell this story that they don't understand, that they are bewildered at my ability to speak so frankly, so candidly. They are amazed that I am so self-confident, so resilient, so determined, so poised. They think it is something about me, and they couldn't be more wrong.
It makes me sad to know that they in their own adversity might fall apart or cry, blaming others or outside circumstances and asking the world why it isn't fair, why it had to happen to them, why others had to do this to them, why there is no justice--or in other ways complain, explain or dodge both credit and responsibility. Were I who I would like to be, I would in those moments be able to explain it to them, be able to help them understand and see from where they should get their strength. I'm afraid most of the time I fail, and that is quite a disappointment.
