How healthy is the firm?
June 29, 2007
A lead article in today’s Wall Street Journal caught my attention. It tells of the conflicting “failure narratives” circulating through the officer corps of the US military about the campaign in Iraq. Different officers from different branches and with different experiences see the situation – and its implications for future strategy – very differently.
No surprise there, and the last thing I’m going to do in this blog is to wade into the debate on why the US military has struggled in Iraq and what to do about it. That’s a different topic and there are more qualified people to speak about it (like the officers referred to in the WSJ article).
What I do find intriguing, though, is the rift reported in the article between senior officers (typically generals) and more junior officers (captains and below). Not surprisingly, they see things differently – based on generation, personal experience, and role in the military. Some generals are defensive. I can’t blame them – I might feel a little defensive when my own junior officers pin the responsibility for failure on my being out of touch.
Buried in the story is a real, tangible problem that does have some relevance to leading talent-intensive organizations. Because above all, the military is a talent-intensive organization – it has an insatiable need to recruit, train, select, and promote people into positions of increasing responsibility. And according to this article, the military has a serious problem. They are having a hard time holding onto a qualified pool of captains from whom to select and promote the senior officers of the future. As one junior officer was quoted,
As long as I don’t get a DUI or fornicate on my boss’s desk, I will be promoted with my peers.
It’s colorful, but it makes a point. This officer saw the discouragement, disillusionment, and resulting departures of his peers as diluting the talent pool. And don’t miss the disappointment in this quote – who wants to be part of a promotion process where you’re not sure the best are sticking around to even compete. It doesn’t bode well for the future health of the military.
This is not unlike the dilemma facing firms in the private sector, especially professional service firms. I consider the promotion pool of a firm’s managers (those a level or two below partner/principal) a bellwether of future firm health. All other things being equal, if a firm is having a hard time holding onto a sufficiently large, qualified, and enthusiastic manager corps, it’s an indicator that something may be amiss.
Sure, partners have more immediate effect on the growth and profitability of the firm, but if managers are getting burned out, flushed out, or simply opting out of the firm, it starts to make me ask questions about the firm’s health. Are managers looking at the partners and wondering whether they want to be part of that cohort? Or are they deciding – all things considered – to pursue their careers elsewhere?
What do you make of it when you see an anemic manager group in a firm?
Dirty Word #7 – Humility
June 28, 2007
I was talking with a client some time ago. She happens to be an in-house lawyer. In the course of conversation, I asked her what her department could be proud of and what they might think about changing.
The “prouds” came easily: the lawyers in her department are technically brilliant. They know their industry and their craft stone cold. Many have worked in the industry (and even in this company) for decades.
She became thoughtful when I asked about what the legal group could change. Eventually, she said, “I think we could stop telling people that they should just trust our judgment because we’re lawyers.”
This client has a great sense of humor. We both laughed at the potentially oxymoronic statement “Trust me, I’m a lawyer” (and the equally funny saying “Trust me, I’m a consultant“). But when we peeled back the attitude behind the “trust me” behavior, it came down to something quite simple: arrogance. It’s the attitude, “I went to school, got a degree, have achieved all of these things, have this position (fill in the blank!) – so you should shut up and listen to me.”
Granted, most people don’t say that out loud, but it comes through in the behavior loud and clear.
Whether or not this approach is morally wrong (and I believe it is), it just doesn’t work when you have to deal with clients and colleagues. They shut down and look for ways to avoid interaction with you. Feeling shown up, they look for ways to repay the favor.
A better – and more challenging – way is to approach others with humility. It could look something like this: “I’m here to bring the absolute best of my experience and training to help you. It’s very possible that those talents could serve you well – but it’s about you and your needs every bit as much as me and my talents.”
Or as a humble friend of mine says routinely, “How can I help?”
I’m curious – what examples of practical humility have you seen in your world?
First 90 Best Practice – Personal Board of Directors
June 27, 2007
Think back to your early days in a big new role. How did you feel? What were you thinking as you wandered the halls, trying to find the bathroom?
One of the most precious commodities for any of us – especially when we’re starting up in a new leadership role – is perspective. It’s easy to feel totally lost and to get isolated. That’s why some astute leaders set up a simple group of advisors to act as a sounding board.
Imagine you’re in the middle of a challenging political scenario in your new role. You don’t have years of history in the organization to depend on. You may not have cultivated trusted internal sponsors yet. But you still have to decide how to play the situation. Do you make that high-risk move? Do you play it safe for a while?
It’s right then that you might wish you had a small group of trusted outsiders available to you to test ideas and push your gut feelings. Here’s the good news – you can have one, a Personal Board of Directors.
If you’re like most executives, you’ll immediately begin to think about who would be on your board. But stop. First ask yourself, What do I want this group to do for me? What skills and backgrounds do I really need on my board? Take out a piece of paper and write those things down. You’re going to have to articulate the purpose and skills required anyway when you invite people onto the board. You may as well get them clear beforehand.
I’m curious – what purpose would you want to accomplish with your own board? And what qualities, skills, and background would matter to you?