Naming and acting

If you call mean, “mean”.
Or if you call kind, “kind”.

That is OK, and despite some discomfort in the first case, people will have the tools to decide if they want to stick around or not.

The real disaster, though, is when you call mean, “kind”.

As in.

The most important asset is our people, and then people are asked for regular overtime to keep up with management/customers/partners requests.

We embrace innovation, and then to kick off a new project people have to go through a rigid approval system.

We want to hear from you, and yet it is a machine responding the call, and before I get there I have to wait 20 minute on the line.

How we name things is important. And even more important is that we follow up to the naming with actions and practices.

Bending the rules

We are all subject to the pitfalls of “this time will be different”.

Sometimes ago, I was listening to a podcast featuring Guy Kawasaki. Guy promotes a pretty interesting and well known framework for presentations – the 10/20/30 rule. That is to say 10 slides, in 20 minutes, with text on the slides set at a minimum of 30 points.

Despite people knowing about his “rule”, he was amazed by the fact they were still pitching ideas to him with presentations that did not respect any of those precepts. When the host asked why he thought that happened, he said that people always tend to think that the rule does not apply to them: “Sure, I know about the rule, but that does not apply to me. My idea is the most interesting, what I have to say is incredibly powerful, my insights are superb. This time will be different, I promise.”

It turns out, it almost never is.

A slightly different version of the pitfall is “this time alone”.

Working with start-ups, I have often heard the mantra: “this is not who we are, we’ll do it this time alone, and when things will start getting traction, we’ll finally be able to act the way we really, deeply, sincerely are”. Of course, if you are eventually lucky enough to get some traction, you’ll have forgotten and most likely shit on how you really, deeply, sincerely are. No reason to go about searching for excuses.

Some rules are set for you, some you get to set.

I am not promoting absolute obedience and compliance, yet we should be aware of these traps and be completely honest about a fact. When we start bending the rules, chances are we are starting to bend ourselves as well. We ought to make sure we are doing that in a direction we’ll feel confident and proud about the morning after.

What do others get?

What do other people get if you achieve what you want?

If you have a target, and you are committed to it, the best way to approach it is to first figure out what others have to gain. Your colleagues, your boss, the other managers, your company, your stakeholders.

It’s a great exercise to keep your wants in check. Is this really the best thing in this situation? Does it still make sense after so much time? Am I being too selfish, unreasonable, unrealistic? How many people are going to end up better off after I win?

And it is also a way to start thinking how to get buy-in. You always need buy-in, you do not operate in solitary. Having an argument that goes beyond “because it’s good for me” (or any variation of it) is a huge step towards getting it.

Peak performance

The message of Peak Performance, by Brad Stulberg and Steve Magness, is as simple to understand as it is difficult to apply in practice.

Stress + rest = growth

That is to say, if you alternate periods of intense work, work that takes you a little beyond your limits, yet not too much, with periods of relax and rest, your potential will increase. And this is true both for athletes and knowledge workers.

The illusion of “always busy“, then, is not only bad for your narrative and your relationships, but also for your possibility to deliver your best work and to incrementally and progressively increase what “best” is to you.

If you think at all the times you came up with a solution to your problems, or a new idea, or a different approach to a tricky situation during moments of break (in the shower, during a walk outside, while playing with your kids), the message should easily resonate with you. On the other hand, think about how often you have managed to overcome a difficult situation by continuing to work relentlessly. Never, right?

And yet, we often fall in that trap. Sometimes because of peer pressure, sometimes because we feel guilty, more often simply because we are not sure what we are doing is good work, and we try to compensate by doing a lot. We end up being over-stressed, and this is never a very good idea.

Stress can be positive, triggering desirable adaptations in the body; or stress can be negative, causing grave damage and harm. The effects of stress depend almost entirely on the dose.

The book is full of examples of high performers, in different areas, and all seem to respect the growth equation that is the foundation of Peak Performance. And on top of that, they have pretty rigid and established routines.

Routines help keeping you focused on what you are doing in different moments of the day. They leave little space for excuses and resistance, they force you to show up and to be present with body and mind.

There’s a pretty good example on how to apply this principle for day-to-day work: the authors suggest to split your days in chunks of 50 to 90 minutes (depending on the type of work), followed by 7 to 20 minutes of rest.

In the words of the writer James Clear, “The single greatest skill in any endeavor is doing the work. Not doing the work that is easy for you. Not doing the work that makes you look good. Not doing the work when you feel inspired. Just doing the work.”

The final part of the book is dedicated to a very important part of performance: purpose. There’s quite a lot of evidence that having a purpose that “transcends ourselves”, that goes beyond the immediate, short-term gains, makes us bring out the best work we could possibly do. And more than that, it increases our capability to accept stress, widening the growth leaps in the equation.

In situations that feel scary or overwhelming, our brain—our central governor, our ego, our “self”—automatically tries to protect us from failure. It shuts us down and tells us to turn in the other direction. Even if failure doesn’t mean physical injury, our ego doesn’t like emotional injury, either—it doesn’t want to risk getting embarrassed, so it ushers us down the safe route. It’s only when we transcend our “self” that we can break through our self-imposed limits.

 

Leadership is not

Leadership is not a title. A leader might have a title, and yet not having a title does not mean you cannot act as a leader. Seeing something that others do not see yet, and taking them with you on the path to discovery.

Leadership is not telling others what to do. On that path, the leader might actually benefit much more from listening and observing rather than telling. Each path is different, so applying other path’s rules and frameworks might often prove to be only limiting.

Leadership is not getting things your way. A leader treats the rare occasions in which this happens as mere coincidences, as they know discovery can only really occur when different perspective meet to shape not only the path, but the destination itself.

Leadership is not being better and faster. If a leader happens to be so, they will have to slow down and make sure everybody is there and has everything needed to carry on. Getting somewhere sooner and in a better shape is a Pyrrhic victory, as very few, if any, will have shared the path.

And most importantly, as should be clear by now, leadership is not the point of arrival. Many end up seeing, and yet only few manage to make others see as well, while taking them along on the path to an improvement for the whole group.