Sunday, December 8, 2013

Learning to Bend the Spoon: A Lesson on Leadership

This article was originally written and posted to Facebook on June 27, 2012

Photo courtesy of Mr. Caleb Gordon, located at: http://calebgordon.com/leadership-2
I belong to a profession of arms whose many members are obsessed with leadership. This is true even as the vast majority of us, perhaps even I included, may not in fact be leaders. On the contrary, I think anything couldn't be further from the truth.

Now that's a stunning accusation.

Before I begin to explain, I'd like to share two anecdotes that will help convey my point. The first comes to us from a recent (and well circulated) speech by Michael Lewis, an American non-fiction author and financial journalist to the 2012 graduates of Princeton University. In his speech, Lewis refers to his success, and any such success for that manner, as a mere winning streak of incredible luck that should not be perceived too pretentiously by its benefactor. In the speech, he shares this story:
"A few years ago, just a few blocks from my home, a pair of researchers in the Cal psychology department staged an experiment. They began by grabbing students as lab rats. Then they broke the students into teams, segregated by sex. Three men, or three women, per team. Then they put these teams of three into a room, and arbitrarily assigned one of the three to act as leader. Then they gave them some complicated moral problem to solve: say what should be done about academic cheating or how to regulate drinking on campus.
"Exactly 30 minutes into the problem-solving the researchers interrupted each group. They entered the room bearing a plate of cookies. Four cookies. The team consisted of three people, but there were these four cookies. Every team member obviously got one cookie, but that left a fourth cookie, just sitting there. It should have been awkward. But it wasn't. With incredible consistency the person arbitrarily appointed leader of the group grabbed the fourth cookie and ate it. Not only ate it, but ate it with gusto; lips smacking, mouth open, drool at the corners of their mouths. In the end all that was left of the extra cookie were crumbs on the leader's shirt.
"This leader had performed no special task. Had no special virtue. Had been chosen at random, 30 minutes earlier. His status was nothing but luck. But it still left him with the sense that the cookie should be his."
Think on that story as I share my second anecdote. In 1999, two brothers, Larry and Andy Wachowski, wrote and directed the American science fiction action film The Matrix. Stunning in its effects and revolutionary in its on-screen display of cinematography, in its usage of computer-generated imagery, and in its masterful production design, The Matrix redefined movie-viewing for millions of people. The plot involved a young computer programmer named Thomas Anderson who took on the alias Neo and went on a journey of self-discovery. And of course, as you may well know, he did so against the back drop of a century-old war between a small community of free-will loving humans and killer artificial-intelligent machines, the latter of which contrived a computer generated "prison" to sedate and suppress human beings while their life source is siphoned off as battery juice. I think that about sums it up.

I am not so interested in the fantasy and allure of the special effects or the complexity of the storyline as I am in a particularly unassuming moment well into the movie, a scene in which our hero Neo went to see a woman who went by the name "The Oracle." In the scene, Neo, still uncertain of whom he is to be or what to think about the two worlds he must live between, walks into an apartment within a multi-story urban residential complex. He instantly notices a young boy dressed in traditional Buddhist garb seated with his legs crossed. Even more fascinating, he watches the boy bend a spoon only by looking at it. In the scene, the viewer notices multiple spoons bent at extreme angles on the floor to the boy's front, so we are left to assume the boy had done the same with each of those spoons we well. The boy, aware of Neo's interest, holds out the spoon to Neo, who accepts it and sits down. Then speaking in an articulate, sophisticated manner, the boy says, "Do not try and bend the spoon. That's impossible. Instead... only try to realize the truth."
Neo stares somewhat introspectively at the spoon and asks "What truth?"
The boy quickly replies, "There is no Spoon."
Neo, pondering the meaning in the boy's answer, repeats, "There is no spoon."
After a moment of silence, the boy adds, "Then you'll see, that it is not the spoon that bends, it is only yourself."

Those today who are charged by an institution or any other legally governing entity to exert influence on individuals to achieve objectives or goals try to "bend the spoon" in applying "leadership". Some yell. Some threaten. Some beg, plead, and negotiate. Some make trade-offs. Some connive and manipulate. Some expend "political capital". In all, the goal is always to bend a situation to fit one’s own desires. In truth, we all want to be good leaders. That is not the point. The sad reality is that no one can be told they are a leader any more than they can bend a spoon using only their mind. Rather, this comes after much time and with quiet observation, a keen self-awareness, and much patience. Then, one day, much like Lewis' explanation of his success, it will just happen to be so and is often times accidental, or as Lewis put it, a stroke of luck.

Now I am not arguing that we are subject entirely to luck, not even in the least bit. To claim this would be a dramatic oversimplification.

The essence of our obsession is rooted in an authentic extrinsic desire to act responsibly with the burden of "leadership" as to not bring shame, discredit, or dishonor upon oneself or the institution we represent as a consequence of one's own actions or decisions. To help us mold and grow as "leaders," we follow scripts. We assess our potential through the usage of valid metrics, rubrics, and other quantitative methods to measure qualitative attributes. Throughout our culture, we see "Leadership" in print and in spirit. The Army’s national service academy’s stated mission is to “educate, train and inspire” its cadets to become “leaders of character.” The Non-Commissioned Officer Evaluation System (NCOES-the system on which enlisted Soldiers attain rank and advance in responsibility) includes developmental courses such as Warrior Leaders’ Course, Advanced Leaders’ course, Senior Leaders’ Course. All officers attend the Basic Officer Leadership Course, the entry-level standard instruction for newly minted second lieutenants. And this after each officer has certainly received an innumerable quantity of instructional leadership courses from their respective commissioning source (ROTC, West Point, and Officer Candidate School). The seven Army values, which are loyalty, duty, respect, selfless-service, honor, integrity, and personal courage, are commonly listed in the order I provided because the first letter of each word spells the acronym LDRSHIP. There are many, many other examples, but I think you get my point.

However, even after this, after the untold millions, maybe billions of dollars and intellectual capital spent publishing literature and developing class instruction, we still see time and again stories in the national news of units and organizations who suffer the diminishing effect of so-called failure in leadership.

This "failure in leadership" is known by a different name, toxic leadership. There has been in recent years a dramatic rise in the writings and study of toxic leadership. A simple Google search for the term toxic leadership will bring you numerous accounts and interpretations of the term. One article titled Army Wants to Rid Top Ranks of Toxic Leaders, written July 31, 2011 by reporters Michelle Tan and Joe Gould of the Army Times, does a really good job of describing toxicity within the military.

The opening paragraph really highlights the extent and depth of the problem. "A survey of more than 22,630 soldiers from the rank of Sergeant through Colonel and Army civilians showed that roughly one in five sees his or her superior as “toxic and unethical,” while only 27 percent believe that their organization allows "the frank and free flow of ideas." Later in the article, the writers echo Mr. Lewis’ story to the Princeton graduates. They quote Charles “Hondo” Campbell, who retired in 2011 after commanding Forces Command, as saying, “[toxic leaders] have an exaggerated sense of their own importance, and it is the belief that they are important — as opposed to their understanding that they do important things... Fundamentally, that’s the opposite of our value of selfless service.”

While all these periodicals, articles, and books bring to bear an important topic of toxicity within an organization based solely on the actions and decisions of a single individual charged with the responsibility of “leading,” to a much larger extent, they all miss the point. The real point is, "there is no spoon."

A ‘toxic leader’ is no leader at all.

John Maxwell said in his book, The 21 Irrefutable Laws of Leadership, “he who thinks he leads, but has no followers, is only taking a walk.” Within the military, any "toxic leader" operating void of a legal apparatus, that is the say without legal backing of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, wouldn't have the same level of influence as they do under our system. A quick definition of leadership is positive influence, pure and simple. What provides individuals the ability to spread their toxicity as described in these articles are the very rules, laws and military traditions that comprise our organization. A very fascinating quote from Mitchell Kusy and Elizabeth Holloway in their article Toxic Workplace: Managing Toxic Personalities and Their Systems of Power is that “Toxic people thrive only in a toxic system.” Certain elements that comprise the military profession or any profession built almost entirely on applying leadership enables the spread of toxicity. That is not to say our institution promotes toxicity. However, to deny that "leaders" often advance solely through the practice of promotion based on "time in grade, time in service," as opposed to a pure meritocracy, and that this practice does not have a diminishing effect on the overall quality of senior ranking officers and non-commissioned officers would be woeful ignorance at best. Nevertheless, the challenge of our top officials is steep. We must come to terms with the harsh duality that when it comes to leadership, we must place faith in individuals to take responsible charge of organizations that deal in matters as gravely consequential as life and death, despite the brutal fact that not everyone in charge will be (or could be) a group’s natural leader.

Even as the latter fact may be true, becoming a leader is possible. The process to become a leader is very long and strenuous, and involves all sorts of pretentious and self-righteous pitfalls. I am still learning, so that much I cannot share. Yet as you try to take something away from this writing, remember this - If you desire to someday wake and discover yourself a leader, then do not try to exert your influence on others to will them into doing your bidding. That is impossible. Instead, realize the truth. Perhaps you may not be, at this present moment, your group's natural leader, despite your charge as their "manager" (for lack of a better term).

Then you will see that it is not entirely others or the situation that must bend to achieve good. Sometimes, it is only you. So be yourself, and to be yourself, you must know yourself.

So good luck with bending that spoon.

Friday, December 6, 2013

The Desert, The Map, and The Binoculars

First written and posted to my Facebook profile page on September 7, 2013

Long ago, two men wandered into a vast arid desert, and, after some time, hap-hazardously lost their way. One of the two men used a map to plan a route out of the desert. The other looked through binoculars and pointed out all that he saw in the distance. Neither of them knew the way out of the desert, but each relied on their respective tool and on one another to guide forward.

Eventually, low on water and nearly starved, the one with binoculars shouted, "Water! I see trees and water."

The other one holding the map looked down at the lines and drawings on his sheet and said, "There are no trees or waterholes near here, brother. It is only a mirage."

"No!" said the man with the binoculars. "I see it! I know it is there! It has to be!" And he passionately started forward in a sprint, stopping every few paces to look out ahead with the binoculars before continuing with even greater haste. The one with the map struggled to keep up, stopping every few paces to look down at his map before starting forward again. Eventually, he fell far behind.

Desperately starved and fatigued, the two men found themselves now having grown further and further apart: one chasing the vision of what he believed was the source of substance and life, though only seen from afar; the other following a path, one depicted by others that travelled this same road before, but have since passed on.

Both were lost. And now, both had lost each other.

This is how I see the poor condition of our national leaders in public office.