For me, the holidays are about rituals. For my family growing up, these were snow and lights and kringla and tons of relatives and artificial trees (hey, we have allergies). December 25 would come, always accompanied by a trip to church, a nice dinner, and presents around the tree. While the order of events would shuffle from year to year, these were the anchors which held us in place, reminding us about the season we were experiencing.

As the years have gone by these rituals have slowly dissolved, replaced by the logistical difficulties which prevent them. My wife’s family has become almost like my own, which is wonderful from a love perspective, but further compounds the difficulties around holidays. (Between my family and  hers, we live in three different states and two different continents — if we were to take a round trip to see everyone in only our immediate families, it would cover over 20,000 miles.) The ritual activities that have made the holidays feel like a holiday have been crumbling for years now, and I feel the pent up urgency of something new coming more poignantly than ever before.

I suppose life is like this, as seasons change and customs shift. Life contracts and expands, and our experiences cover the gamut of life, some of which are disorienting and off-kilter and some equalizing and balancing.

The older I get, the more I grasp the cycles of life. Like waves that gather, crest, break, and repeat, most things in life seem to have a natural beginning and ending. Summer gives way to winter. Flowers bloom then wilt. Day gives way to night.

Perhaps finding a way to make peace with the endings is what allows us to really celebrate a new beginning. Perhaps it is our acceptance of the calm of darkness which makes the freshness of a sunrise so wildly invigorating.

So in the interest of that, I wish you all a truly good night.

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Today, I have one question I’d like to ask you.

It’s just going to take a bit of setup to get there.

Recently I’ve begun doing some research into the works of Max Weber. Though you may not know his name, he is widely considered to be “one of the three principal architects of modern social science” (to quote Wikipedia), along with Karl Marx and Émile Durkheim.

What’s most interesting to me about Weber’s work is his focus on bureaucracy. While this certainly isn’t a sexy topic, it’s pretty safe to say that it’s a subject which affects both me and you on a daily basis. From classic examples like the DMV (*collective sigh of exasperation*), to elected or campaigning politicians (*collective eye roll*), to the TSA line at the airport (*collective groan*) to the dreaded yearly performance review at work (*one more sigh*), we are all regular victims of these systems.

This is where our friend Max comes in. He says there are three ways to organize the power/authority in a society:

1. Charismatic,
2. Traditional , and
3. Legal-Rational.

They’re pretty much exactly what you think. Charismatic leaders get to lead because they are seen as charismatic or gifted. Traditional leaders are put in place because of a cultural tradition — think monarchies. Legal-Rational leaders are seen as authorities because the legal/bureaucratic system in place gives them the power and permission to do so. (For a bit more on these levels go here.) Weber saw these stages as a hierarchy of sorts, a kind of “tribe evolution”– an inevitable social growth pattern. Cultures that evolve will naturally advance from a Charismatic model towards a Legal-Rational one.

He also foresaw the negative effects of this growth: something he called “the shell as hard as steel.” A Legal-Rational model of power naturally creates something called bureaucracy, which in turn delivers an oligarchy where a few rule over the many. As this happens, it systematically generates a confining, dehumanizing society. (Sound like anything else I write about?) Also translated as “the iron cage,” this is the inescapable result of a Legal-Rational system.*

So, at long last, here’s the question:

What if there’s a #4…?

What if there’s something that’s more evolved than Legal-Rational?

I think there is, and I also think it’s on the way.

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*Read more about the “iron cage” here. It’s worth your time.

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There is a natural tension between the proponents of “experience” and those who tout “innovation.”

Experience sees the value in leveraging wisdom gained through years of learning and doesn’t want to repeat past mistakes.

Innovation recognizes the world isn’t the same as it used to be and therefore will require fresh, new solutions.

These things often feel like they are mutually exclusive, particularly in our companies.* Organizations are often good at one at the cost of the other — and generally our businesses tilt hard in favor of experience. Almost everything we measure (and measurement is a big freakin’ deal) slants the scales this direction, from our hiring requirements (“Must have… 9 years!“) to financial reports which compare to years past.

The problem is that experience just doesn’t mean as much as it used to.

In a world that moves as quickly as ours, we shouldn’t be afraid of the “next thing,” the incremental thing. We should be afraid of the other thing — the thing which completely disrupts the market and renders our product or service irrelevant.

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*Of course, the thoughtful leader isn’t sucked into this false dichotomy, but sees value in both of these perspectives. They recognize that it’s not either/or, but both/and. The hard part is in resolving the tension. And that, of course, is a big part of why leaders make more money.

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The things we measure are the things that actually matter.

This might seem to go in the “Duh, obvious!” category at first glance. But this phenomenon goes much deeper than we initially think.

Example: In our companies, we want our customer service folks to treat customers like gold, right? That kind of behavior is how we keep customers coming back and how we encourage them to spend more, etc.

However, this desire for excellent service is usually counteracted by the things we actually measure. Most companies don’t have “wowing customers” as a metric. Instead, we measure our customer service representatives on how little time they can spend with customers. When we do this, no amount of “The Customer Comes First” rhetoric will ever overcome that measurement. It can’t – because it’s not what we’re measuring. No matter how much we insist that’s what we want, it can only ever be lip service; our reps are forever confined to work within the limits of their metrics.

This is how it works in every walk of life, by the way.

In sports, players play to the metrics defined for them. (For more on this, read Andy Stefanovich’s fantastic book Look At More.) Companies adhere to environmental regulations set for them by the federal government. Doctors conform to the best practices as defined by the professional organizations in their field.

We are built (or at least heavily conditioned) to color inside the lines.

Now, if we think with a victim mentality, this reality is quite depressing. But if we believe that we create the future, it’s rather exciting.

Why?

As a leader, you’re the one drawing the lines. 

(Lesson: draw your measurements carefully.)

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UPDATE 11/15/11: This phenomenon also affects nations and technology. Kind of makes one wonder what’s more important than determining the things we are going to measure, doesn’t it?

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“Everything costs something.”

When we read a statement like that we tend to nod and say, “Yes, that’s true.” It seems like common sense—maybe even too common to actually mean anything, anymore.

But if I were forced to choose, this simple idea may be one of the most important things I’ve learned about life in the past decade. And it all has to do with a really boring-sounding concept from Economics 101 called “opportunity cost.”

Most of us are risk-averse. While we say we’re adventurous, we also like to play it safe and get a steady paycheck, etc. The problem with this is that it leads us to try to defer our decisions until later—to put off our dreams in the name of “safety.” But there are two big problems with this way of living.

First, due to the work revolution, what used to be a “safe path” probably isn’t anymore.

Second, there’s no such thing as deferring a decision. This is where opportunity cost comes in. Whenever we choose one thing, we choose it at the expense of something else.

ALWAYS.

As in, every single time.

When I think about “everything costing something,” I think primarily of the one resource I have that I never get back: my time.

Whenever I give it away to one thing, I can never spend it on something else.

This makes our power to choose a very, very big deal.

I was reading the first chapter of Michael Ellsberg’s new book The Education of Millionaires the other day (you can read a sample for free here), and he includes the following quote from Randy Komisar:

“People feel like, unless they’re affirmatively making a decision, they’re not making a decision. They think, ‘How can you fail if you’re not making any decision, not cutting off any possibilities?’ The reality is, you’re making a decision all the time. You’re making a decision not to follow a path that might lead you to fulfillment.

Even though the choice to do something you don’t love, to ‘keep the options open,’ may seem like a passive decision and therefore less risky, you can’t pretend you’re not making decisions. So the real question is ‘What risks are you taking by those decisions you’re not making?’ Not making a decision to create a fulfilling life now is in fact a decision—it cuts off certain paths in the future.”

Find the path you were meant to travel.

It might not feel safe, but it will definitely be good.

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Once upon a time, there were three bricklayers.

When asked, “What are you doing?” the first bricklayer replied:

“I’m laying bricks.”

The second bricklayer was asked the same question. He answered:

“I’m putting up a wall.”

The third bricklayer, when asked the question “What are you doing?” responded, with pride in his voice:

“I’m building a cathedral.”

If you search for this story online you’ll find different variations, most including some sort of explanation about how it speaks to a person’s attitude and ability to see the big picture. While these things are true, and insightful, this story makes me wonder about something else.

Why is it that some companies seem to have an overwhelming amount of cathedral-builders?

Then on the other hand, why do other businesses seem to only contain hordes of bricklayers?

There is no question that a person’s individual perspective (attitude, big picture, etc.) is crucial. But the importance of the culture that individual is IN is often highly underestimated — even though a cultural explanation actually explains this conundrum much better.

If there is a group/culture/tribe component to our work — if there is something about the collective “we” that makes us better or worse as individuals — then this story isn’t just about a person’s mindset. (Also, as leaders we have very little direct control over how other people think, right?) BUT… if there’s something about the environment a person is in which can create more (or less) meaning in their work, then leaders are on the hook for something different. A work environment — unlike a person’s mentality — is something a leader has a HUGE amount of control over.

So then the next question is:

“As a leader, how do I create more cathedral-builders in my company… by building a better work environment?”

Once we start asking that question, we’re headed in the right direction.

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It may not be a typical thing to discuss superheroes in a business context. But today, we’re going to go for it.

Even if we’re not into “comic books,” most of us are probably familiar with a bit of their mythology. A pop culture fascination with superheroes has come screaming into popular media in the past two decades, pushing the once-relegated-to-the-bedroom-of-nerds fanfare squarely into the mainstream. By this point, you’ve almost certainly seen Spider-Man, Heroes, Smallville, one of the five Superman movies, one of the X-Men films, Thor, Captain America, or any number of the other “superhero” flicks released recently.

In addition to delivering a boatload of melodramatic fun and action, in any superhero story we inevitably find the protagonist struggling with how to use his or her superpower: the thing that makes them different from the “normal” folks.

Despite our lack of wall-crawling ability, x-ray vision, or amazing powers of flight, this isolation and confusion of purpose is a feeling we can relate to. No matter how connected we are, we all have moments of insecure loneliness.

We all feel “left out” or “not normal” from time to time.

The problem with this is that “normal” is an illusion. Human beings are ineffably unique, and we see the world through our own completely individualized lenses. We do our best to respect these differences, but they also create some tension — and isolation. We are naturally skewed to do some things really well, and other things… well, not so much. This is OK — and the way it should be — but it often makes us feel like we have these “superpowers” (things we’re really good at) and we’re not quite sure how to harness their power.

(Even if you don’t feel like you’ve got any superpowers, you do. Hang with me for a moment… it will make more sense in a few paragraphs.)

This is a central, and often missed, component of how to best lead from one’s strengths. In a nutshell, it is the areas of our biggest strengths which cast the largest shadows. It is our top talents that give us the most clues into some of our most fragile tendencies.

True, my natural abilities — the talent that lies within my proclivities, my paradigms, my lens, my worldview — are the areas which have the greatest potential for exponential growth. But they are my largest potential area for doing harm, as well.

Let me explain. For me, the most potential for damage does not come with me trying to do the things that are outside my natural talent circle. I am naturally terrible at those things, and in truth, I should try my best to avoid them because I will fail there more often than not. (Ideally, I should partner with someone strong in these areas.) The greatest harm I can do to the world doesn’t typically come from those “weak” things (remember, they don’t come naturally to me, and I am much less likely to even attempt them). No, the greatest damage I can do is by not learning how to control my strength.

Here’s a bit of info on me: I am relentless in my pursuit of excellence. I have an almost palpable need to be successful. In addition, I am obscenely idealistic. I believe SO intensely in the potential of humanity, I feel SO passionately about the good that people can accomplish, that I am simply unwilling to accept the status quo. It’s like my soul simply rejects that as an option (dramatic, I realize… but true).

These qualities I have can be good things — but only IF I can learn to leverage them properly. I have learned, through much pain, that if I do not control the rampant idealism within me, for example, it can overtake everything else I feel and make me hopelessly, incessantly discontent. I have also learned to take on projects very carefully, because if a feeling of success is not found there, my talent will almost “force” me to rationalize an abandonment of the situation.

Of course, these talents of mine can be amazing strengths. If my peers (and my organization) can put up with a fanatical drive to be the best in the world, I will help make everything around me successful. And that’s good for everyone!

This is where it comes back to the superheroes. In our work at Strengths Doctors, we often make the admittedly melodramatic comparison of talent/strength to “superpowers.” There is always an intrinsic paradoxical tension with “power,” be it an otherworldly gift from the yellow sun (that’s what gives Superman his power, btw) or your almost-as-unbelievable ability to make instantaneous connections with people, be a brainstorming genius, or be able to genuinely feel what others do.

Those things are amazing. But the things that give us the most power also deliver the ability to do incredible damage. Think about it this way: Superman’s strength certainly comes in handy when he’s fighting a foe, but it requires more control than anything else when he’s shaking hands, petting dogs, or making an omelet. (You were wondering when we’d get there.)

Our strengths can be our yellow sun, or they can be our kryptonite.

Our power can be overwhelming — sometimes almost unbearable — until we learn how to manage it.

Perhaps the most relevant quote from a comic-based film is also one of the most famous. In Spider-man, Peter Parker’s Uncle Ben says to him: “With great power comes great responsibility.”

I imagine you’ve known some leaders that haven’t been able to control their abilities. It’s almost like they are constantly running over themselves, right? These are the leaders that make decisions without any consideration or strategy, boss people around unnecessarily, take on far too many projects and get ulcers, and never take a firm stance on direction. Most times, this is not a lack of strength — it is the opposite. It is a strength in overdrive. It is unbridled talent at its worst, and it will destroy a person’s leadership and, eventually, the organization with it.

It is an astronomical misstep to miss this component of leading from our strengths: choosing to build a strengths-based environment means controlling our power as much as it does maximizing our strengths. Our greatest areas of weaknesses don’t come from the bottom of our talents; they come from the same top themes our strengths come from.

With great power does truly come great responsibility. And with practice, we can use the knowledge of our top talents for insights into how to leverage their power for the good of our leadership development and the health of our organization.

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Nothing lengthy today, just wanted to share with you a realization I had recently.

There’s a tendency among us human beings to look at large groups of people — be they cultural, religious, gender, whatever — and point out just how much different “we” are from “them.”

“Oh, my group would never do anything like ‘they’ do…!”

We also make dangerous generalizations when it comes to individuals. We lump them — even though they are one, individual person — into a group we think they are a part of and assume that they are exactly the same as everyone else in that group.

“Oh, they are a [whatever]; ‘those people’ always [whatever]!”

This is completely backwards.

It’s much more productive and helpful to flip those around.

When we look at groups, it’s better to see how we’re more alike than we are different.

When we look at individuals, it’s better to see how everyone is different and appreciate each person’s uniqueness.

When we do it this way, the world instantly becomes a much more welcoming and colorful and interesting place.

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P.S. The globe mosaic pic above is even better in when you can see the whole thing; check it out here.

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When I began writing my new book (almost two years ago! how did that happen?) it all began because I noticed a tremendous opportunity for “someone” to help translate between generations in the workplace. After all, even a cursory look at the demographics shows that there’s not even close to enough Gen X’ers to step in for the Boomers when they retire (note the inverted bell curve around Gen X). Furthermore, there seems to be a world of difference between the perspectives of Boomers and the Gen Y’ers who have to replace them.

Like I said: HUGE opportunity.

Once I got into the research, however, it simply wasn’t adding up. The problems being experienced in the workplace weren’t just happening in business, and they weren’t just happening between these generations. The more I read, observed, and talked with smart people I quickly realized that whatever was happening in the world was much, MUCH larger than just a generational problem.

This surprise took my book (and life) in an entirely different direction than what I had anticipated, but it has been an eye-opening and invigorating journey. We’ll have plenty of time in the future to dissect and discuss and debate the direction I take in the book, but today I wanted to talk just a bit about this generational thing because it is a very popular angle in the business world.

The short truth is: generational studies don’t go deep enough.

Leaders (at all levels) like to glom on to a generational problem because it’s relatively familiar. Compared with the fundamental, tectonic shift that is actually happening, a generational conflict is almost passé. We can call in consultants and do training seminars to “fix” the problem. We don’t really have to change the way we think about the world that much. We learn a few new tricks and hope that business will just go back to the way it was.

This is dangerous approach because it’s like putting band-aids on cancer. It’s treating symptoms instead of the disease.

Is there any benefit, then, to studying generational differences? I think so — if it helps us learn how to communicate with each other better, I’m all for it. But we need to make sure we’re using those skills to talk about the right things.

And that’s what scares me about being too consumed with generational problems: it can (and often does) distract us from making the difficult, systemic changes that will actually build healthier organizations.

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Additional recommended reading: Don’t Manage Me Like a Millennial by Lance Haun.

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It’s VERY simple… wait for it… here it comes…

Close your email program.

Seriously. That’s it.

I’ve been doing this for the last week or so when I need to focus and just generally get, ahem, stuff done, and I swear my productivity has jumped about 800%.

If you have your email configured to automatically retrieve new mail every five minutes (like I do), email is a hyper-interruption machine. And it’s like a drug. I can’t help it… when I hear that mail *ding* sound I just HAVE to see what magic awaits in my inbox. Unfortunately, the tiny action of clicking over to the mail program pulls me out of whatever “flow” I was in and, as soon as I’ve deleted the LinkedIn Group notification I don’t care about, I have to spend WAY too much time getting back in the zone.

For me, on a typical day, the reality is that there is far more interruption than there is actual work being done — when the mail program is open. So now, I close it when I’m working and just I open it every hour or two to clean out the inbox.

Besides, if anything is really that urgent, I figure people know how to find me (there’s only about 16 other ways to get my attention).

Technology is never the problem, only a symptom. We must manage our tech as a tool, just like anything else… or there is a real danger it will manage us.

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P.S. Check out a post by my invisible mentor, Seth, who recently made a similar point about texting at work.

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