Some Things I Learned at the Academy of Management

Worth mentioning: the title above originally was missing the word, "Some," until I realized that would make for a blog post even more ridiculously long than usual.

The Academy of Management, admittedly grandiosely named, is the world's preeminent association for those interested in management and its study. Although the majority of the organization's membership is academics - professors, deans, students, and the like - a healthy chunk of the membership is made up of actual managers. You know, people who run businesses and have management positions in what we laughingly call "the real world." Go figure.

This weekend the Academy had its annual meeting, (or rather, Meeting, as they frame it) and I had the honor of both attending and presenting my paper on authentic leadership (for a bit of the logic behind the paper I presented, check this old post). Here are a few things I learned this weekend, in bullet-point format as you guys seem to like that format...

Feedback and Volunteering in Organizations (with the Muppets)

Maybe if I type up all of these research-oriented thoughts in my head, then I'll be able to assemble them a little more clearly. On the other hand, even if it doesn't help with my research, it might ease my guilt over not blogging lately. So let's kill two birds with one stone. Unless of course you like birds, gentle reader, in which case I will be doing no bird killing today. In that case, we will be... ummm... hitting two... targets?... with one... ummm... you know what? I'm no good with metaphors. Asking me to write a good metaphor is like asking Kenny Chesney to be a decent human being. Wait, that was a decent metaphor, wasn't it? Never mind.

In modern workplaces, whether they be offices, retail stores, schools, small businesses, large firms, or non-profits, the concept of "going above and beyond" is becoming increasingly important. There's research backing that statement up, and plenty of it. Organizations expect their team members and employees to not just do what is explicitly listed on their job descriptions, but also to do other things that benefit the organization, the people who work there, and the customers they serve. Many organizations even manage to work these "things-that-are-not-in-the-job-description" into the job description itself, oddly enough. They do this by including a line at the end of the official list of duties that says something like: "Employee shall also perform other duties beneficial to the company outside those listed here, as determined by management." When I was in the corporate world, I called that "The Auschwitz Clause," because under language like that, the company could direct you to do just about anything, from killing innocent people to selling yourself into slavery to buying Kenny Chesney albums.

Ruth's Chris and the Usual Diversions

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T FIND MY BLOGPOST DRAFT?!? I WAS ALMOST DONE WITH THAT POST! IT WAS BRILLIANT! IT HAD BABY PICTURES AND BANANAS AND PAC-MAN AND... and... seriously, it's lost? Dang it. You mean I have to start writing it all over again? Ugg. That really sucks.

Hey, wasn't Ugg that little purple guy from Q*Bert? I LOVED that arcade game. It apparently made a great babysitter, because my mother would drop little nine-year-old Jim off at the university arcade for an hour or two with just a dollar in his pocket, but that dollar would be more than enough to keep me playing and entertained the whole time I was stuck there. I miss arcades.

The post I began yesterday that somehow got erased was about some of my experiences at Ruth's Chris steakhouse. Don't get me wrong: I'm not the kind of guy who eats a lot at places as fancy as Ruth's Chris - I'm much more likely to be found at your local neighborhood Popeye's. Although I tend to get confused every time I go to Popeye's, now that you mention it. There's a reason for my confusion... a good one, I think. It all started a long time ago, back to even before I was kicking the SLU undergraduates' butts in the local arcade.

Speaking of....

Well, it's good to be back. I don't see why I've been the only one catching hell for not visiting the NeverTown over the last couple of months... where have you been? And more importantly, am I the only one who cleans up around here?? There's dust all over everything! It's kind of cute... a fine layer of NeverDust covers all of the buildings and streets of the NeverTown. I guess I should start cleaning.

The last few months have been ludicrously busy (which has no connection with any rappers - instead, it's the level of 'busy' that comes after 'light busy' and 'ridiculous busy', and leads from there into the plaid zone), with kids, papers, classes, and anniversary preparations. And poop. Lots and lots of poop. But I guess that's tied in with the kids. Seriously, we could solve all of our American energy problems if someone would just invent a line of cars powered by my kids' poop. We could all ride for years oil-free and save the environment... but I hate to think of the smell emerging from the exhaust pipes.

Introductory Organizational Theory (and the Muppets)

So I've said something shocking several times recently, in public, in private, but never on this blog. So let me say it here as well: as far as new programs and presentations are concerned, the Muppets are dead to me. I was willing to overlook all of those supposedly heartwarming musical guest appearances with up-and-coming Disney Channel stars - Disney owns them now, so sure, I have to expect they'll use Kermit and pals to promote their more fashionable drek. I gave them a pass for the Muppet Wizard of Oz, which abandoned the franchise's normally adult-oriented humor to instead pursue silly songs, the two-year-old market, and a sad attempt to bolster the sagging career of an R&B singer with dubious acting qualities. I even got excited about the new Muppet special, "Letters to Santa", two Christmases ago. I reasoned that any new Muppet show couldn't be all that bad. But then within the first five minutes the Muppets were singing a silly song about how wonderful the United States Post Office is, in a show sponsored by the United States Post Office. Is this really what the home of Beaker and Animal has sunk to?

An Unreasonable Quantity of Snow Days in Atlanta

And now, a blog about snow.

It's 5:43 pm on a lovely Wednesday afternoon in Sandy Springs, Georgia, where we've been snowed- and iced- in for the past few days. Last Monday was supposed to be my return to Georgia Tech, research, and classes, but instead I've been here ever since, spending plenty of time with the wife and kids while getting really, really sick of the available convenience foods. I got very excited about the possibility of walking down to Panda Express this evening for some real grub, but alas that my giftcard will go as yet unspent: they closed two hours ago due to a lack of customers braving the treacherous roads for quality Chinese. Heavy sigh.

I Forgot What I Was Blogging About

So let me tell you about Dr. Roberts. He is the professor of my quantitative statistics class at Georgia Tech (translated, that breaks down to 'really hard math stuff'), and he is one heck of a pleasure to learn from. He shares with me both his first name (James) and an unfortunate habit of digression at the slightest provocation... conversational-shiny-object syndrome, as it were. In a lecture about, say, multinomials and they hypergeometric distribution (which he specifically said to mention to our friends and family, because "it'll make you sound really smart"), it's not uncommon for Dr. Roberts to branch off into stories about deer hunting, drunken job interviews, Agent Scully, and his grandmother. Odder yet, in the end, he always seems able to tie it all back into whatever statistics we were discussing. He even taught us a dance that illustrates the concept of the sampling distribution (and which, coincidentally, is very fun to do to the tune of the Beach Boys. Not so much fun with Kenny Chesney).

However, the mere fact that he's personally a fun character doesn't make the subject matter all that much easier (which can be intimidating, given this is just the first statistics class of about four to eleven total). On Thursday, during the fifth week of my doctoral education, I finally had my first lecture that I didn't understand at all. He stood there and talked, and it was undoubtedly brilliant stuff, and it definitely went in my ears because I did hear him... but then it all just slipped right back out again, so that the floor was piled high with brilliant concepts that had leaked out of my poor empty head. I think I almost slipped on a few on my way out the door. I suppose intelligent concepts are slick, kind of like oil.

Some Things I've Learned So Far in the Doctoral Program

• It's shocking how little I know about science, how much I thought I knew about science, and how much bad science is out there. Almost all of my classes have been about how to do good science, and it's been eye-opening. And obvious, in hindsight, but aren't most things?
• Kerry is really smart.
• I remember how in elementary school my teachers would warn me about how much more attention I'd need to pay in junior high school, and how the classes would be a lot harder. Then I got to junior high, and classes weren't really any harder... but I was warned that high school would be insanely difficult. Then high school wasn't a big deal at all... but I was warned that college would be ridiculously difficult. Then college wasn't really all that bad at all... but they all said how rough grad school would be. So far...? The pattern seems to be continuing.
• I'm sure that in a month or two I'll look back at that last bullet point, cackle insanely, and ask for more cheese on my shirt, please. This will get tougher, no doubt.

Organizations and Organizing (and the Muppets, of course)

People ask me, "How's grad school going?" and I wonder how to reply.  As I'm only two days in as of this writing, that's somewhat like asking someone how a cake tastes when they've only begun to cook it (assuming the cake itself is not a lie to begin with).  I'm not really sure what to say.  I'm tired, but it's a good tired.  I'm learning, and it's a good learning.  I'm spending far too much money on vastly overpriced textbooks, and wishing I could get away with selling BD for $90, since it's about as many pages as some of these hundred dollar books.  Mostly I'm just listening. Asking questions, and listening.  So in a big way, it's not that different from normal life for me.

I find myself curious as to how much effort I'll put into having good grades, as opposed to the effort I put into research, concept-building, and general learning (because yes, there can be a difference between good grades and real learning, especially at this level).  I've been told repeatedly that grades don't really matter in the slightest as far as getting a post-doctoral job: what matters is your published research and, to a lesser extent, teaching bonafides. I had very respectable grades in high school and college, but that was a long, long time ago.  And back then, to be honest, I was mostly just concerned with getting good grades and getting out. Here I'm more concerned about learning.  Will different priorities result in a different GPA?

Doctoral Orientation is Go!

Just jumped out of the pool, which was a surreal experience.  I'm not used to having a swimming pool, unless you count some of the larger puddles that develop on a disturbingly regular basis in the back yard of every faithful Louisiana resident (in fact, some of us save time and just call them "ponds").  It's also surreal going swimming with an amazingly pregnant woman (unborn babies do not, in fact, float), and having the old guy with the stinky cigar reading Kenny Chesney news on the pool chair next to you.

However, the joys of submersion are not the topic for today's exciting installment: the beginning of the doctoral experience is.  This week is Orientation Week for the twenty or so of us who were picked from thousands to join the PhD program in Georgia Tech's business college.  It has been an excellent opportunity to learn more about the school, walk around in the sweltering heat, enjoy several free lunches, hear high-ranking government employees define "STOO-PID" to graduate students in great detail, meet interesting people from other countries (did you know that 'Jim' is a very popular name in Turkey, only it's spelled 'Cem' there?), and watch the health center lose your immunization records two or three times.  It has been... insightful.

Does Anybody Know What Leadership Is? Strikes Back

A couple of months ago in these very pages I shared my frustration with our inability to determine what leadership actually is, with the "our" in that sentence being the academic and business body public.  Apparently the question stumped my massive readership, since there were no comments to the post.  I'm still about four weeks away from starting my organizational behavior studies at Georgia Tech, but as I've trained leadership at a few events recently, I've continued to ponder the topic.  And I've been approached with a possible answer to the question of why we don't know what leadership is:  because there is no answer.


I do a workshop in which I ask my audience to tell me which of the five members of the Scooby-Doo gang were the leader of the group: Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, or Scooby himself.  Sometimes a participant raises his or her hand and tells me shyly that there was no one leader; they were all leaders.  Since this doesn't play into the structure of the seminar and the path I want to lead my audience down, I usually raise an eyebrow and give the cocky answer, "You know, we have a word for answers like that back home in Louisiana.  We call them 'cop-outs'." (for more on the Scooby topic, click here)  I believe this statement, that perhaps there is no definition of leadership, is a cop-out.  Let me try to prove it.

Kant's Logic & Government Infrastructure

I type this from the Louisiana Department of Education Recreational Campground in beautiful metropolitan Bunkie, Louisiana, the site of each year's Louisiana FFA Leadership Camp. It's my first time here in years, and this time I'm here not as a professional speaker, but rather as a let's-sell-some-stuff-for-a-great-cause volunteer. It feels good to sit back and relax and let someone else do the talking.

The unyielding physical stability and consistency of government infrastructure never ceases to amaze me. This is my first time at the campground in about 15 years, and yet nothing has changed. The building, walls, and floors are exactly the same. The color scheme is identical. The Coke machines are in the same places... and they're still broken. The chairs and tables not only look exactly the same, but they seem to be in the precise same places. I'd bet you I could find one with my initials scratched into it alongside the number 1992 in the northeastern corner of the building. Why does it never change here? Like I said... this is government infrastructure.

What's a Sales Manager's Job, Anyway?

For some reason, I think spurred by my recent research on self-monitoring or maybe because I've been chatting a lot with one of my old friends from those days, I find myself thinking a lot about my time with a certain company I used to work for lately.

At the high point of my career with this company, I was in charge of a $30 million business unit and loving every minute of it.  Sales were booming, profits were increasing, our workforce was growing, good people were getting promoted, and we were getting rid of the people who didn't want to contribute.  During a time when the company at a whole was shrinking at a frightening pace, my territory led the nation in customer growth.  I won a whole bunch of interesting awards, from that huge bronze swan on my coffee table, to the leather bag I used yesterday for the trip to visit the mother-in-law, to the beautiful Swarovski crystal swan that somebody stole at that last banquet. Believe it or not, I think I remember being offered tickets to a Kenny Chesney concert at one point.

The reason we were doing so well was not so much because I was great at what I did, but because I developed a talent for surrounding myself with amazing people... and then finding ways of keeping them.

This is Why

I recently discovered a great blog called PhD 2015 (you can find it in my Links section on the right side of the page), which I've found, among other things, to be a thoughtful initial approach to Organizational Behavior study.  I envy the author's ability to stay on one professional track, as opposed to my own tendency to branch out from a serious topic to things like Muppets, video games, and Kenny Chesney (after all, just a couple of weeks ago you were reading one of my posts explaining social metaphysics, llamas, and Mr. Peanut).  The author of this blog has written a few posts lately that seem to establish her own motivation for studying Organizational Behavior which I found myself very... what's the word I'm looking for... moved by? ... identifying with?  I'm not sure how to put it into words.

It's very similar to my own reasoning for embarking upon this course of study, and it motivates me to talk a little bit about it here, as I don't think I ever have.  And as a side note, those original thoughts on PhD 2015 are well worth your read if you've ever worked in a business team, or if you ever plan to.

I am pursuing a doctorate in Organizational Behavior, intending to specialize in business leadership. I am leaving behind a lucrative career or two, a comfortable lifestyle, and a large house to do this.  I am, in many ways, sacrificing the life I've built for myself over the past ten years in order to start something new and wholly different. Most people would call me a fool (and several have) for going back to school at this point in my life, especially for my audacity of seeking a doctorate when I don't even have a masters or an MBA. They would ask me (and, indeed, have asked me) why I'm throwing away so much to do something so different.

And my answer would be, naturally, because it's what I believe in.

Organizational Behavior is the study of how organizations and teams work, and how they don't.  It's the study of why people are effective and why they aren't.  It's the study of what leadership really is, and what it isn't. It's the study of why people are happy with work, why they enjoy what they do... and why so many don't.

If you think about it, you spend more time in the average day at work, than you do with your family and friends. And for 90% of the world, they hate that time. They find it hostile, they find it unpleasant, they find it undignified. Most of them feel they are led poorly and taken for granted. Many do not use their skills to the fullest because they're not motivated to, or because they don't even know what skills they're supposed to use. They receive feedback that is meaningless, and are told they should be part of an ambiguous team without understanding how or why.

I believe very strongly in a concept that Aristotle called eudaimonia.  It's an old word without a true and precise English translation, but in short it means "the joy of excellence." Aristotle called it the very highest level of human experience, and the greatest form of happiness attainable by mankind. It's the pure joy you feel when you've completed something you enjoyed doing, and that you did very well because you enjoyed doing it. It's the feeling a car hobbyist gets when he finishes restoring that '57 Chevy, or the happiness a dedicated teacher experiences when she sees a once-failing student graduate. It's the very happiest you can possibly be, and better yet, you only experience it when you've contributed something wonderful to the world.  It's a feeling that most people never experience in the modern age.

I want them to. And I believe that improving organizational behavior is the way to make that happen.

In every management position I've held since college, I have attempted to my utmost to bring that feeling of eudaimonia, or at least the possibility of it, to my employees and teams. Although I usually failed, every now and then I'd nail it. The result was happy employees, effective and efficient completion of organization mission, and a real sense that we were all part of a real team... no, more of a family... working together for a goal we all believed in. If you've never felt that way, I feel sorry for you, because it's pretty damned awesome.

I've only scratched the surface, only begun to imagine what organizational psychology can accomplish. I want to be better, and I want to help make the world a better, happier, more effective place through organizational behavior. I want those 8 to 12 hours a day of work we all have to go to, to make more sense, to be something we're proud of, where we hold our head high and feel motivated to accomplish something great. I don't have the power or knowledge to do any of this now... but maybe someday, especially if I can surround myself with people smarter and better than I am.  Hence the doctorate.

I have a world of respect for an Ohio State professor, Dr. Anthony Rucci, who defined this area of study as the enhancement of the dignity and performance of human beings and the organizations they work for.  And it can be. And I want it to be.  Because that's what I'm passionate about, and that's what will bring me that eudaimonia I was just talking about.

In a nutshell, I just want to change the way workplaces operate. I want workplaces to be better, more dignified, more respectful, less conforming, more creative, better led, more motivated, more inspired, more effective, and more efficient. And I think better leadership and management of organizational behavior is the way to do it. I believe we can all be better... myself more than just about anyone. If I can help the world move down that path, even in a very small way, then I'll have a lot I can be proud of.

I've gotta admit, I'm impressed that I made it all the way through this brain-dump without mentioning the Muppets as an ideal organizational team unit, or waxing poetic about Evanescence, or wondering aloud if Roy Clark is the greatest banjo player of all time, or discussing my recent increasing love of cheese. Maybe I can stay focused after all.

Eat Mor Chikn

I'm told I need to blog more by a couple of people who I didn't know were reading the blog. Maybe if you guys followed the blog, or commented on it, I'd know people were actually reading it!  As it is, I enjoy writing for all of my imaginary friends, including my favorite readers, Johnny AlwaysAgrees and Wendy AlwaysScantilyClad, and of course Kenny Chesney's legions of loyal fans.

Yesterday after a fun little visit to the Best Buy I used to work at, where I was pleased to see an awful lot of people I used to work with who are apparently doing very well for themselves, I stopped by Chick-Fil-A for lunch. And I marveled, as I always do, about Chick-Fil-A.

As soon as I walked through the door, I was bowled over (as I always am) by an onslaught of smiling and cheerful "Hello and welcome to Chick-Fil-A!"s, only one or two of which really sounded fake. The happy people behind the counter nearly begged to take my order, repeating it clearly to make sure they were getting it right, giving me full attention, smiles, and eye contact. The store was spotless as always, despite the fact that nearly every chair was filled. My order was ready nearly immediately, and it was piping hot. When I asked for extra sauce, nobody pouted.

As I sat and ate, I watched the drive-thru line move rapidly, even though it was about six cars long. As it got even longer, and as it began to slow down, I saw one of the cashiers notice, put on a headset, and run out to start taking orders from cars further back in the line. The line then sped back up.

Friendly employees stopped by my table occasionally to ask if they could take my garbage or get me a refill.

Chick-Fil-A is fast food, like a McDonald's or Taco Bell.  Well... actually very unlike a McDonald's or Taco Bell, but it's still fast food.  We don't tend to expect this kind of service from fast food.  Heck, I don't get service that good at most sit-down restaurants.  Despite this, Chick-Fil-A provides it.

Maybe that's why it really seems to me to be the busiest fast food establishment in Baton Rouge. And I've been to Chick-Fil-A's all over the country, and that huge customer service experience is pretty standard.

There are a lot of funny things to think about when it comes to Chick-Fil-A. For starters, I know they don't pay their people all that much money. They don't get paid as much as, say, those Best Buy employees I was talking about at the start of this post. They don't get paid as much as most of the Wal-Mart associates I know. And yet, they're a heck of a lot nicer to customers as a general rule, and they offer much better customer service.  They get paid less, and they do more.  Why is that?

Obviously there's something in Chick-Fil-A's corporate culture that they buy into, either voluntarily or somehow involuntarily (I suspect the former).  For some reason, they seem genuinely motivated to provide a level of service unlike what any of their competitors provide, a level of service unseen in quick-service restaurants for at least forty years. They seem happy with that and proud of it. They enjoy their excellence, which is very cool.  Aristotle called that 'eudaimonia' way back when... 'the joy of excellence.' It's something we don't see enough of in modern America.

Honestly, as food quality and taste goes, I'm not sure CFA is really heads-and-shoulders above their competition. In my own eyes, as far as taste goes, they're better than Kentucky Fried, but nowhere near the level of a Popeye's. So why are they so much busier than Popeye's, then, even in South Louisiana where Popeye's is practically the food we grew up on, the stuff our momma's and grandmomma's used to make? Seriously, I'd swear that those cajun spices at Popeye's were in my baby bottle way back when....

In my marketing seminars, I've long been a proponent of the competitive differentiator, and I've often made the point that the business without a clear and understood differentiator cannot thrive. Fox News and MSNBC's differentiators are their political slants, each on opposite ends of the spectrum. Wal-Mart's differentiator is its sheer variety. Best Buy's is its (usually) knowledgeable employees. The Xbox's is Halo. HBO's is its original series. Waffle House has its unique waffle recipe, Hobby Lobby has a lot of really unique crap you could never find anywhere else, and Chevron has Techron (which isn't truly unique in the slightest, but most people are fooled into thinking it is through Chevron's clever marketing).

I believe someone up at Chick-Fil-A made the decision a few years back that truly amazing, throwback customer service was going to be their differentiator, the thing that got people talking about CFA. It makes you wonder what the corporate culture is like in CFA... if it's truly a different kind of atmosphere, or if all that is just show for the customers. It also makes you wonder just how they've been so effective at gaining employee buy-in, even at the entry level.

Luckily, one of my fellow incoming Georgia Tech doctoral students is a CFA insider, so I should get to find out!

On a side note, there's nothing cooler than randomly running into one of your dearest friends you haven't seen in a long time, in a place as nice as Chick-Fil-A!

Seriously, Does Anybody Know What Leadership Is???

Okay, I'm honestly amazed at this point.

For years, one of the main points of many of my seminars has been that most people in the business world don't understand leadership, to the point where we don't even know what it is. We don't know what leadership is. We can't define it.  You ask one executive, you'll get a completely different and often contradictory answer than you'd get from another executive.  My point has been that if we don't have agreement on what leadership is, we can't lead effectively.  I was so passionate about this that I even wrote a book about it (which can be found at several finer online retailers now!).

In the book, I took my own stab at the definition of leadership, borrowing heavily from leadership consultant Dick Knox:  Leadership is the art of motivating and inspiring a team to accomplish the goals of the organization. (and if you'd like a more detailed discussion on this, click here for the chapter from my book).  I like this definition and I think it covers it as adequately as a one-sentence definition can... or maybe I don't. I've always had a nagging feeling that I was missing something... and I looked forward to one day finding out what it was.

When I made the decision to pursue my doctorate, teach, and research Organizational Behavior at Georgia Tech (one helluva school), I thought this would be my opportunity to finally discover that missing piece of the leadership puzzle.  I thought that by having the chance to read and research from some of the world's most preeminent management minds, I'd finally find this elusive consensus on what leadership is and what it isn't.  I eagerly dug into my first research project... and discovered that these top professors aren't really sure what leadership is.

Can you imagine my disappointment?

I've learned that even the academic community is a bit mystified by the art of leadership.  A 2001 study on the core of team leadership, in a publication called Leadership Quarterly, admitted "we know surprisingly
little about how leaders create and manage effective teams."  A major 2004 book on leadership practices from the academic world laments that "Such questions as how or why leaders affect outcomes remain largely uncharted and poorly understood." In my own research, as I've reported earlier in this space, I'm examining the relationship between self-monitoring activity and leadership effectiveness.  Even in this limited area, I'm finding a clear difference on how different professors view the root of leadership. In this particular argument, one expert believes that leadership is all about building and maintaining relationships with team members, while a different but no less learned expert maintains that leadership is all about creating results.

And I wonder... how can I answer the question of whether high or low self-monitors are better leaders, if there's little agreement on what leadership actually constitutes?  Is it leader emergence (getting promoted?) or leader effectiveness (getting things done?)?  Is it relationships or results? Is it communication or detail?  Is it all of these, or none of these?

I'm also reminded of a surprisingly popular management seminar I do called "The Leadership Secrets of Scooby-Doo."  In this seminar, I have the participants (often high school or university students) come up with a list of things that make someone a leader, and I emphasize to them that I seek quantity rather than quality.  The results are amazing... I have people tell me with perfectly straight faces that leaders must be "attractive", "smart", "good drivers", "popular", "tall", "fashionable", and other things that have little or nothing to do with leadership.  The funny thing about the seminar is that the people who announce that these things have nothing to do with leadership, are the same people who first suggested them as leadership traits. The moral of the story: we have a better idea, deep down, of what leadership really is than we often exhibit. We know that we're fooled by 'false leadership indicators', and we allow ourselves to go along with it... presumably because that's what society, television, and movies have taught us to do.

In other words, if we see four people and a dog walking along, part of us will automatically assume that the one walking in front must be the leader, especially if that individual is tall and attractive.  Another, usually sublimated part of us, will know that this assumption is entirely bunk.

In examining some of the recent leadership on research from academia, I'm running into a similar problem. In efforts to show what leadership is, learned individuals point to popularity, likability, creativity, career success and promotability, technical skill, and other traits that are not directly linked to leadership.  Just because you're better with computers obviously doesn't make you a better leader.  Just because you're more creative, does that mean it's easier for you to motivate and inspire a group?  Do the most popular people really make the best leaders?

And I think back to an argument I had last year with a leadership consultant about Tyra Banks.  He said she was a leader; I called the statement ridiculous and asked him to back it up.  He said she was popular, that a lot of people liked her, that she was famous, that she had influenced many people to buy certain products or watch certain television programs.  I asked him what exactly any of that had to do with organizational leadership... who had she led?  Had she actually accomplished anything by leading a team, or had a Hollywood image and impression management team following a precision-crafted marketing plan brought about those results?  Does that make every Hollywood and music star, from Steve Urkel to Spongebob Squarepants to Kenny Chesney to Cameron Diaz, a leader?  Does that make any sense?  He wasn't able to answer that question.

This was a gentleman I respect a great deal, a smart guy whose full-time job is coaching and consulting leadership. What does this say to me?

Seriously, does anybody know what leadership is?

I think it's about time somebody figured this out. I don't know if I'm worthy of the challenge, but I intend to give it a try.

Babies, Saints, Asylums, Banquets, and Social Metaphysics

It seems like it's been far too long since I've added anything to my blog, especially considering how many people, to my surprise, seem to be reading it.  It's odd when somebody comes up to me and randomly mentions self-monitoring, Donkey Kong, or Kenny Chesney. So I must assume that you, dear reader, are real, and not the figment of my unfocused imagination that I formerly assumed you to be. I hope you're as pretty as I imagined you to be, and I hope you really are wearing that skimpy lingerie.

So let's cover a few different topics, from the leadership psychology stuff to the random stuff, to make sure everyone's happy.

Debby came home with new ultrasounds of our twins yesterday.  She oohed over Baby A's spinal cord and his or her habit of teaching him or herself how to breathe.  She ahed over Baby B's detailed little skull and his or her propensity to rub his or her cute little head. Meanwhile, I just thought that Baby A and Baby B were lousy names for fetuses... fetus's... fetusi? feeti? Feet?  As I keep telling her, I prefer Nathaniel and SuperFly.  And I also still think they look just like Mr. Peanut. Seriously, I've got to find a tiny top hat and cane for sale somewhere.

I recently came across a fascinating phrase in my leadership research: the Social Metaphysician.  When I hear something like that, I tend to think of a new-age mystic, sitting crosslegged about three feet above the ground as he repeats, "Llama llama llama llama llama..." (which shows that I've watched far too much Animaniacs in my day), but it actually refers to the person whose whole frame of reference is based on what other people think of him.  Nirvana, to the social metaphysician, is having everybody like them.  They have no personal standard of what is true or what is good, they just act on the cues of those around them, doing what they expect the people around them would like to see them do.  They just want to be popular, and they're willing to sacrifice anything and everything toward that goal, in an almost sociopathic way.

Thinking about pop culture in general, and a few people I know specifically, I wonder how widespread that is. It's the ultimate high self-monitor (which, as a reminder, means somebody who spends more time than a low self-monitor reacting to cues and events in their environment to craft a positive impression of themselves in the minds of others), and while high self-monitoring can have benefits in fields like sales, marketing, politics, or even leadership (still researching that last one), this seems unhealthy.  In fact, it turns out research has shown that social metaphysicians have self-esteem issues, and major psychological problems later in life.

Makes sense to me.  So if you find yourself awfully concerned about how other people view you... don't be. Because you could end up in Arkham Asylum or something.

I just attended a high school FFA banquet, one which mercifully and oddly I did not have to give a speech at. It was a great affair with some highly intelligent and skilled kids earning lots of great awards.  As I drove away, I saw one of those highly intelligent and skilled kids on the side of the road, leaning on a police car and signing a speeding ticket.  Oops.

Meanwhile, as I continue to prepare for the inevitable move to Atlanta, and continue to bet myself just how many Atlanta Falcons fans I can piss off with my unabashed Saints love, I find myself wondering if I've been betrayed by one of my long-term close friends. I'm a country boy - I'm not good at coping with things like that. I wonder.....

And speaking of the Saints, thank you Coach Payton, you're right, we are so not interested in Jamarcus Russell!

Mr. Lemoine Goes to Baton Rouge

... or Observations from a State Capitol.

Today I had the fairly unique opportunity to meet with and speak to several state legislators as one of the volunteers assisting with the Louisiana FFA Association's Capitol Day program.  For those not in the know, FFA is an association ('club' would be the un-dignified and not quite appropriate title) of high-school students with interest in agriculture, agribusiness, civic improvement, and leadership.  As the president of the state's alumni chapter (a position I was elected to unanimously, excepting only my own vote against myself), I was honored to be part of the program, work with the students, and address several members of the Louisiana Legislature regarding the importance of vocational education and sustainable agriculture.

And I learned quite a bit from it.

For instance, although I haven't been inside the State Capitol since 1995, I'm pretty sure I would have remembered all of those naked people painted on the walls of the building's foyer.  Definitely classy in a French Renaissance kind of way, but still an awful lot of nakedness.  I wonder if the murals are new, or if I was just too busy in 1995 to notice?  When I accidentally wondered this aloud, the friendly receptionists just giggled. As they were old enough to be my grandmothers, I found that odd somehow.

My little group of high school students was escorted downstairs to a set of caucus offices, which sounds a lot more impressive than it is in real life, where we were met by the chairman of the house agricultural committee, Andy Anders.  Mr. Anders came across as a genial fellow, an old-school Southern Democrat who said he was much more comfortable at home on his farm than in the chambers of the Legislature. Although I distrust all politicians by general rule, I found myself warming to him, especially in the way he took my little group of high school students so seriously.  I've seen government leaders deal with high school students before, and they generally treat them even worse than they treat the general public: patronizing, self-important, and imperious.

On the contrary, Mr. Anders impressed me a great deal by talking to this group of high school students not just as respected constituents, but as equals.  He blew me away. He discussed an animal euthanization bill coming up for discussion in the legislature, and asked my group of high school students where they would stand on it and what talking points they'd use.  One of the students, a very bright lady with some veterinary experience, had some clear thoughts on the matter, a stand and solid rationalization.  And Mr. Anders took that stand, and listened to her points, and used them on the floor of the legislature, because he thought they made sense.

I know nothing of this man except what I've reported thus far... but I like him a lot.  I couldn't help thinking that this is the kind of leader we need more of.  I hear a lot of noise in the business press that leaders (1) should always have a definite plan, (2) should pretend to be confident even when they're not, and about how  (3) a bad decision is better than no decision at all. I've never bought into this line of thought, and I plan to do a detailed study on it after I receive my doctorate. In my mind, to contradict the three ideas I just mentioned, (1) leaders should have a definite plan at all times except when they're busy creating the best plan, (2) leaders should be confident in their decisions because they've researched them, asked questions, and reviewed the appropriate data, and (3) no decision is always better than a bad decision, so long as the period without a decision is caused by the research necessary to make the best decision.

Did that make sense?  Anyway, I digress... I liked this guy.

Later we ended up in the Education subcommittee room, where a debate raged on whether or not to require a 2.0 GPA of all students before they could join extracurricular and athletic activities.  This is already a requirement for athletics due to the state athletic association, but the bill would make it state law and add clubs like Band, Cheerleading, FBLA, and FFA to the list.  As I rolled it over in my mind, I originally thought it was a good idea; I mean, heck, what's wrong with putting academics first?  But as I continued to think about it, I thought back to all of my friends who'd had bad grades in high school, joined FFA, and became motivated to improve their GPA.  I thought back to all the people I'd met who were on the verge of quitting school altogether when they joined these clubs and associations, and how their membership (and their great teachers) motivated them to stay in school. And I thought of the research my wife had recently shown me, indicating clearly that career and technical education and associations improved graduation rates.

The committee seemed to be split on the bill, so I urged the group of FFA students to send a representative up to talk to the committee about it.  Unfortunately, the students were understandably nervous... so I gave it a shot myself. I don't even remember what I said, as I was going in completely unprepared and speaking in front of a very intimidating set of microphones, bald men, and cameras.  But since the final vote was 11 to 4 to kill the bill, I guess I must have done okay.

Of course, I might have been helped by the bill's sponsor, who spoke just before and after me and gave a speech about breastfeeding.

Let me repeat that: this state legislator, in an attempt to pass a bill regarding extracurricular activities, gave a speech about the merits of breastfeeding.

I love my elected officials.

I had another opportunity later to present remarks to several legislators, policy-makers, and the ag commissioner, which was pretty cool.  It was a humbling opportunity to talk about just how important vocational education is, how much the students in organizations like FBLA, FCCLA, DECA, and FFA really contribute to communities and states, and how important funding and support really is to the fabric of Louisiana society.  And I got to tell jokes about Taylor Swift and Wal-Mart, too... it was a good time (I meant to throw in a Kenny Chesney riff too, but I was on a roll and completely forgot).  Most of the lawmakers came up to me afterward and asked me when I was running for office, implying that they'd rather I didn't run against them.  I think that was a compliment.
All in all, the day was a big success... the FFA kids were every bit as amazing as I expected them to be, and then some.  It's amazing the difference an organization like FFA can have on a young person's life... how polished and confident it makes them, what great speakers they become. I'd like to think I'm a living example of it, but I know I'm not all that impressive... but I can at least say that a lot of who I am, I do truly owe to the FFA.  If I had half the polish and professionalism these FFA officers do, back when I was in high school... wow.

I'm going to really miss being involved with these guys after I move to Atlanta to start my doctorate.

Do Performance Reviews Suck?

I was very surprised a few days ago to read the business headline, "Yes, Everyone Really Does Hate Performance Reviews," from no less esteemed a source than the Wall Street Journal.

I was taken aback by this because, as a student of Grand Poobah of Management Dr. Kerry Sauley of LSU, I believe that feedback is the Breakfast of Champions. Regular and constructive feedback is what separates decent managers from great managers, and the ability to receive and act on that feedback is what separates promotable employees from those who will spend the rest of their lives doing what they're doing right now. I've always looked forward to my own performance reviews, whether I was giving or receiving them, and whether they were positive or negative. I've always looked at them as excellent opportunities to grow and develop.

So imagine my surprise when the abstract of this Wall Street Journal article advocates the eradication of the time-honored business process of the annual/quarterly/whatever performance review. As I dug into the article, I realized that the performance review process the author is familiar with, has little in common with the one I know, which made me wonder if my experiences are rare or somewhat unique.  In the author's world, performance reviews are a wholly one-sided process, performed at regular intervals, during which employees find out if the boss likes them. That's pretty much it, from the author's view: the employee listens while the boss gives good scores if she likes the employee, or bad scores if she doesn't. Performance reviews, in the author's experience, are just a tool for managers to force employees to buy into their line of thinking (although I'm not sure how exactly that relates to being told if you're a good or bad employee).

I honestly don't know if the author is clueless on this topic, or if my own experiences with performance reviews are truly that rare.  Here's what my world of performance reviews has always looked like, through four major companies and my own entrepreneurial efforts:

Performance reviews are a timed complement to a regular feedback process of conversations and learning. Feedback and review happens on a daily basis through regular conversations, as the manager learns more about how the employee does business and the employee learns more about how the manager would like to see business done. It's sort of like school; daily quiz, homework, and test results are the regular feedback an employee receives, while the formal six-week report card is the employee's performance review. The review is the culmination of it all, the chance to document what has been learned and what wasn't; what the employee's strengths are and where his weaknesses lie; and it's even a chance for the employee to tell the manager how he thinks the manager's doing leading the team.

Is that really so rare?

I couldn't disagree more with many aspects of the article, but there are a few points of agreement I see. I've known many managers whose only employee feedback was during their performance review; that's unacceptable. One rule I've always had as a manager is that no employee should ever be surprised by anything they hear from me during a performance review, because if they're surprised, that means I've done a poor job of regularly communicating feedback to them.  I know there are many managers out there who break this rule, who only offer feedback when they are forced to by a deadline-enforced performance document. And in those cases, that document probably is fairly worthless.

I'm sure I'd also agree with the author that forced measurements, as are common on many corporate performance reviews, are bunk. For instance, one company I worked with strictly enforced a rule that no employee was allowed to receive a perfect score for any job skill, no matter how good they were... because they could always be better. That rule frustrated me... after all, if an employee can't receive a 5 out of 5 in customer service skills, for instance, why is that score even possible on the review? And how do I reward someone who used to be a 4, but has improved dramatically?  Another rule I've encountered that makes no sense is an expectation to measure all employees on the same skill-sets, even if the employees have different positions that use different skill-sets. How does measuring an employee on a skill, one that has nothing to do with his job, help that employee become better at his job?

I love performance reviews because I love regular feedback, both formal and informal. If I've got a great employee, I want to give him a formal, written document showing him that the company knows how great he is. If I've got a terrible employee, I want to give him a formal, written document showing him that his lack of progress is noted, and he needs to improve. If I've got an average employee, I want to give him a realistic snapshot of his strengths and weaknesses, and give his a chance to become great. If I've got Kenny Chesney working for me, I want to give him a 0 out of 5 for Ethical Character.

Am I wrong on this?

Does intellect stifle creativity?

One of the absolute, hands-down, best seminars I do is also one of the few I didn't come up with myself. Instead, I learned it seventeen years ago from a chief executive at the Coca-Cola Company. Just in case anybody reading this blog ever ends up in this seminar, I won't offer too many sundry details on it. But at its core, this is a workshop that examines and measures creativity in individuals and small groups. Although this is not the session's only point, the session is outstanding at showing not only how individuals and groups think creatively, but also when they don't.  It showcases the way many creative individuals don't put forth new ideas for fear of rejection, and how so many groups avoid and ignore creative ideas, even when they're the right ones.

Like I said, it's a great workshop. I wish I could take credit for it.


I led this seminar twice today for two groups of high-school students; one, an advanced group studying Java programming (yes, a high-school group studying advanced logic and programming concepts!), and the other, a slightly more basic group from a class on Microsoft Office. (in case you're wondering, neither group seemed to be big fans of Kenny Chesney)

Guess which group did better and proved to be more creative: the advanced group, or the basic group?

Before you answer that, consider that over the past seventeen years I've done this particular seminar with eight-year-old elementary students. I've done it with junior high school kids. I've done it with high school groups. I've done it with university groups. I've done it with groups of teachers. I've done it with Masters students. I've done it with executives. I've done it with millionaires. And once, I did it at a retirement community in a rather beautiful part of Oklahoma.

Guess which age-group came across as the most creative.

Hands-down, my reigning champions have been the elementary students. They didn't have any trouble with the exercise at all, using an astonishing amount of creativity to solve my presented problem almost immediately. In fact, they thought it was overly simple, and seemed surprised when I told them about how much trouble other groups had with it.

On the other hand, my all-time losers have been... the millionaires.  They exhibited a startling lack of ability to think of a process or problem outside of their established comfort zones. They imagined and assumed rules where there were none, limited their behavior based on those nonexistent rules, attempted to repeat the exact same process ad nauseum continually hoping for better results, and failed the activity utterly.

The difference between these two groups, I believe, is in how they see the world. The executives saw rules everywhere and conformance as a necessity, as well as a need for decorum and a minimization of failure potential. The eight-year-old's acknowledged no rules, assumed none, and probably wouldn't have cared even if there were any.  The older, successful mind did not want to risk failure or embarrassment by trying something startlingly different from what had gone before, while the fresh young mind relished the opportunity to do something strange and new. The young students didn't mind trying something different, even if they might fail and be embarrassed by it. The successful executives didn't see any need to do anything other than what they'd always done, even if what they'd always done obviously wasn't working.  Hmmm... there's a business lesson there, I think.

I presented the seminar today to two groups: a basic class, and an advanced class. And the basic class was more creative.

This got me thinking: can intellect be a barrier to creative thought? Are the smarter among us so caught up in our own intelligence and ideas that we may forget to come up with new ideas?  Like the executives, were the more advanced students hindered by an over-reliance on experience and logic, and an unwillingness to explore the unknown and attempt something untried? Or am I missing the point entirely?

I'm going to have to think on this some more.