Proceed Until Apprehended

We rarely seem to find a happy medium between these extreme choices in the workplace. Traditional behaviour dictates that you capitulate to your autocratic boss the moment they’ve stated their desire or intention. Doing anything but their plan will label you as a problem. You’re essentially raising your hand and announcing that you are not a team player… for their game, anyway.

This roll-over response is well ingrained. When you consider the career challenges of later baby-boomers and Gen-Xers, it’s even understandable. To paraphrase Linda Duxbury, when you’re lucky enough to have a seat on the crowded bus, you don’t complain about the rip in the seat. Well, the world has changed. There’s now room on the bus, and an empty one comes in another 10 minutes. The power dynamic has shifted more in your favour.

Aside from this, instantly capitulating to your boss’ ill-formed idea has never been in the best interest of what you’re trying to accomplish. You’re not safe anymore to just let someone else define your work and your direction. You’ll still feel safe, sure. The problem is, that safe stance is very similar to the one taken by people who put bolts on cars. They feel completely justified saying “you get to run this how you want, even if I disagree,” until the day they no longer have a job. Please don’t accept that role.

Here’s the simple first step. Become a student of the Instant Capitulation vs. Dying on the Hill continuum. Objectively examine your behaviour in the context of this scale. Do you like where you’re at?

Step two, try something that isn’t so much instant capitulation. Don’t go all the way to Dying on the Hill. Make a small shift.

Here’s some behaviours to think about:

• Don’t tell anyone, just turn off your email for a morning. Re-engage at 11:45 and see if you can clear your inbox by noon.
• Propose an amendment to the specific wording your boss gave you for a letter.
• Push back on a deadline by saying “I’ve cleared Friday so that I can get my files under control,” or “that task will have to wait until after my coaching session with Tom.”
• Allow all your calls to go to voicemail. Set one hour aside to deal with them all.
• Unilaterally schedule a meeting in your boss’ calendar called “Establishing Performance Expectations with (insert your name here)”

In my experience, establishing the way YOU want to work allows you to benefit from the roll-over response. No one else is spending as much time thinking about processes and what it takes to be effective. Rather than engage with you in a rational discussion about why you are doing this (which would be immensely helpful), they’ll do their own capitulation.

Once again, I’m advising something that doesn’t particularly feel good for the ego, but it should be just about right for your soul and your sanity.

I’ve decided not to use the word “busy” as a response to the question “How are things going?” or “How’s work?” It’s surprisingly hard.

I know it’s just a typical, off-the-cuff thing we say, but removing the dreaded b-word from our vernacular can be the start of a transition away from running our lives on fast-forward.

“Busy” is, of course, the standard state of being these days. Just because it’s the standard, though, doesn’t mean it’s right. Being busy means you’ve got your head down and people are demanding your time. It doesn’t mean you’re working on the right things or being effective. There’s a superficial feeling of validation when we feel like there’s more to do than there are hours in the day. We’re wanted. Can you imagine responding with, “I’m not busy. That’s for sure.” It simply feels like we’re not valuable, that the world could get along without us.

Saying “busy” may make us feel wanted, but it also reinforces a culture of urgency where working up a sweat or staying late is a badge of honour. I’m tired of this culture. I want to focus on results, not the show.

I don’t want to be known for being busy. In fact, I think if I say I’m busy, I’m openly acknowledging that I’m not asking the big questions. I’m just doing the work laid out before me. I’d rather be able to say I’m definitely, unequivocally not busy. Rather, I’m determining what’s important and I’m giving it its proper focus. I’m doing a few things well and I’m confident they are the right things to work on. I’m not multi-tasking. I’ve made the bold and courageous choice of saying what’s important. I’m mono-tasking.

This does leave the challenge of what to do in that small talk situation. What to do when someone politely, but without much actual interest, asks you how you’re doing? I don’t know. I end up saying, “I’ve made a conscious choice to not say I’m busy. I think saying I’m busy means…”

I had a great conversation today about Black Swans.

I haven’t read the book, though it is now on my reading list.

There are events that are a rare occurence in your life. These are game-changers, and they’re as rare as the fabled black swan. Events in this category would be Sept. 11, a world war, a collapse of financial markets, and with any luck, the election of Obama. I think that’s the point of the book and its title.

But I also think there’s a deeper hierarchy of important things. Unfortunately most of the time, we are ignoring this hierarchy in favour of the easy path of just being “busy”. We simply try and deal with all of it instead of filtering and sorting.

There’s the stuff that isn’t quite so rare, but is still pretty big. Let’s say these things happen a few times in a decade. A university degree, a significant shift in what you do, a severance package, a big promotion.

We go down the scale, and there’s the significant events that happen a few times a year. The hiring of an employee, a re-organization announcement, an unexpected reaquaintance with a lost friend.

We can keep going. There’s events that are of the significance that we see occuring monthly, weekly, daily or hourly. This spectrum of different-sized events goes from the Black Swan moment all the way down to the 40-a-day “reply all” emails.

The thing is, there may not be a lot of cues to tell you which event is big and which one is small. Regardless of size, they can all come to us on the same old information-overload train.

How appropriate is our response to the big events? The medium ones? The small ones? When we’re under constant attack from new information, our filter gets skewed. We start over-reacting to the small stuff and under-reacting to the big stuff. Personally, I’d appreciate a “recommended appropriate response level” attached to each message. Alas, I think that’s what our brains and free will are for.

Peter Drucker wrote “The Effective Executive” in 1967. He defined everyone that is having to make choices based on information as an “executive.” “Effective,” you could say, are the ones among us who can summon an appropriate response to events, be it appropriately large OR appropriately small. Effective people put their time and energy where it matters.

That effort is rarely devoted to the most recent email. In the hierarchy of priorities, what’s the likelihood that the latest is also the most important?

I sometimes think I’m working on a life assignment to examine and understand what’s really going on. It all comes down to finding Truth. I’m responsible for asking big questions, hearing the answers and courageously acting differently when I see I’ve been wrong. The converse, I suppose, is to not rely too heavily on “conventional” wisdom. Your own wisdom is more trustworthy.

Pretty deep, I know.

Anyway, this post isn’t about that. It’s simply an examination of why I’ve gotten this assignment. Why did I start doing this? Why does anybody start doing this? It’s not particularly comfortable (though I do find it meaningful and fulfilling).

I like to think of the process as pulling on a sweater thread. To begin with, it’s just a loose thread. There’s a complete, suitable sweater there… and you’re ruining it. Most people ignore the thread, or trim it. A typical response is to maintain the integrity of the sweater. Some, however, compulsively pull on the thread. The more they pull, the more they see beneath. The more they see beneath, the more they pull.

Looking back, a convergence of factors pushed me to first ask questions.

• An increasing sense of my own mortality – a close friend passed away shortly after I was frightened by my own health. A perspective smack if ever there was one
• A culmination of frustrations in my career – I hit the “sick and tired of being sick and tired” point
• The impeccable chance timing of a leadership course that turned into a lifelong coaching and mentoring relationship

I’ve taken this analogy this far. I’d better examine the punch line. You end up without a sweater. Do we end up exposed and cold? I don’t think that’s it. I think we’re in direct contact with the elements. We end up more aware, more responsive and more capable of an appropriate and thoughtful engagement with our environment.

What is your sweater thread?

There’s a pretty simple deliberation a person can do when they’ve got a project. They can consider delivering quality (good), they can consider delivering it quickly (fast), and they can consider delivering it cost-effectively (cheap).

Problem is, you typically can’t pursue all three. You’ve only got so much focus and effort to apply.

The hard part, of course, is choosing which one will be at the bottom of your priority list.

There’s a significant advantage that you shouldn’t overlook. In whatever you care about, how likely is it that other people are thinking about it as much as you are?

Your advantage is your ability to think through every scenario, every defensive response, every potential roadblock. You can figure out the solution to every one of those items before you ever begin the discussion. There’s the magic.

In “Freakonomics,” Levitt and Dubner use the term “Information Asymmetry.” It’s when a professional has access to information you don’t have. Whether intentional or not, they can use the imbalance of knowledge to their advantage to get the better of a deal.

You can create an asymmetry with your passion, too. It’s an easy and available way to drive your agenda. Let’s call it a “planning asymmetry.” Your recipient is thinking about the eight phone calls they’ve got to return, the conversation they’ve got to have with an unresponsive employee and what they’re going to have for dinner. You, on the other hand, are looking for agreement on one thing, and you’ve spent eight, twenty or two hunred hours thinking about how to get from here to there.

Really, who’s got all the power?

I find myself referencing The Long Tail in conversations all the time. It is an excellent concept/observation by Chris Anderson. To be fair, I haven’t read his book on the topic, but this paper makes me feel confident enough to reference it constantly. http://www.changethis.com/10.LongTail

For me, The Long Tail and Seth Godin’s discussion of “Best in the World” (see The Dip) fit hand in glove. What am I passionate about ? What thin slice of the world’s discussion is going to be associated with me?

As some have pointed out so astutely, there’s a “space between stimulus and response.” I think Pat Katz is doing a marvelous job of helping us access that space. Sign up for her e-zine. http://www.patkatz.com/

Imagine this scenario – you’re sitting on your back deck, enjoying a siesta from a hard week’s work. Perhaps you’re engaging in a conversation about plans for tomorrow evening. Suddenly, with no warning, you see your shovel through the tool shed doorway. You, with this implement grabbing your attention, go over and start digging a hole, leaving your drink, your spouse and your visions for a pleasant Saturday behind you.

A little far fetched, but we see this all the time. Mind you, people don’t want to admit being outwitted by a shovel, so they use their Blackberries, instead. Blackberries have the uncanny ability to get us to change our focus with no rationale. Simply because a message is incoming, we pay attention. More often than not, we actually take that message and give it effort. You were on something else, but that’s forgotten.

I actually don’t trust myself with a Blackberry. They’re powerful tools, and I know they can be good, but they can be very, very bad. I have to get way better at being deliberate about that space between stimulus and response before I rely on something so potent.