I’ve started taking some management classes. My department is growing, and I figure it’s possible that some of my standard techniques for performance management ("A drunk otter could have done that project better") and team building ("Another round of shots for the table") may start to be less effective going forward.
I try to keep an open mind about these things. I don’t just assume that a management class will be a froofy timewaster where they put clay and colorful pipe cleaner toys at each person’s chair so participants can be “playful and creative” during the instruction.
But when I showed up a class about effective leadership strategies last week, I found clay and colorful pipe cleaner toys at each person’s chair.
Abraham Lincoln was a great leader. Do you know one of the strategies he used to become one? It involved a studious avoidance of colorful pipe cleaner toys.
Anyway, the real problem came up around a half hour into the session. The instructor--who was so cheerful and chirpy than I’m sure she had several felonies on her record--asked us to read a few paragraphs about what makes a good leader and then underline the parts that we liked best.
The problem with that exercise is, it implicitly assumes that we’re going to agree with everything in the text. But I came across this sentence, and it stuck in my craw:
“Genuine leaders are not in it for themselves; they have a sincere desire to create something larger and better than what they can create alone.”
I thought about that for a moment. Then the instructor asked us to share the parts we had underlined. I raised my hand.
“I don’t think it’s true that genuine leaders aren’t in it for themselves. Everyone’s motivated by self-interest. But good leaders know that the way to achieve their personal ends is to build something that’s larger than what they can do on their own. So I’d revise this sentence to read ‘Genuine leaders are in it for themselves, and they have a sincere desire to create someone larger and better than what they can create alone.’”
Silence. You could have heard a pipe cleaner drop.
The associate instructor said dryly, “That’s deep, Greg.”
The chirpy instructor gave her best Stepford Wife robotic head jerk and said, “Well! I think I need another cup of coffee before I can follow all that!”
I threw up my hands. “Okay, okay. I’m just saying.”
And that was that. But hey, I don’t come into a class to shut off my brain; I’m going to engage with the material. And personally, I don’t want my manager to be a selfless person; I want him or her to recognize that leveraging my skill set is the best way to achieve large amounts of money and power.
Selflessness is great--when you’re clothing and feeding poor children in Calcutta. It’s not as useful when you’re deep in the belly of a for-profit business. Oh, and you know what poor children in Calcutta might also like? Colorful pipe cleaner toys.
last week i had to attend a ‘training the trainers’ workshop for two days. i have been a facilitator for almost fifteen years. it was painful.
there was play-doh at the table. the lady that first went for the stuff ended up making a heart. cute, i guess. then, and i kid you not, she made what can only be described as a phallus. i mean a cigar is sometimes just a cigar, but not shaped like that, my friends.
on day two we collaborated on a taco.
The pipe cleaner people cannot handle your kind of insight, be gentle with them.
yer damn straight about that, mister. in my experience leaders are often chosen in the corporate world not because they have the innate ability to inspire others around them to do their best and achieve more, but because they don’t make waves and are skilled at PC replies to all posed questions/situations.
Don’t you think Mother Theresa did her thing at least partly for selfish reasons? Sense of moral responsibility, pleasure at being better than the other person, pleasure when receiving expressions of gratitude from the wretched, etc.?
P.S. I’m impressed with your range of experience. I’ve never seen a drunk otter.
There’s a reason I don’t want to be in management. Because I would actually say something along the lines of the drunk otter comment. Perhaps I might use stoned tree frog because I’m fonder of frogs but still...I am not what you would call a good leader. I am more of a “Please leave me alone and let me do my work and for the love of God, if I have to go to one of these classes at 8 in the morning, you’re all going to die.”
Have I ever mentioned that you’re brilliant? Because seriously you are.
My attempt at management ("I sincerely hope that you didn’t get paid for the time you spent on this pile of crap") resulted in me becoming subordinate-less. Said subordinate now reports to another engineer. Other engineer and I share an office, and I am learning that management means just keeping it in until the person you are managing LEAVES the room - and then saying it.
I am with Papa here too - drunk wombat, yes, drunk otter - wow!
Um. What are your little pipe cleaner people doing to each other?
Just wondering.
I want a manager with self-interst, and I want to be included in that sense of self. When I train staff I pretty much always say at some point “Part of the job is to do our thing in a way to make X (the manager) look good.” When the manager looks good, we all look good.
I’m going to agree with Papa Bear on the Mother Theresa thing. And I’ll take it a step further. I don’t think there is such a thing as pure altruism. People do things for selfish reasons. Maybe it makes them feel good to help other people. Maybe it makes them feel all superior. Or maybe it just gives them a warm glow inside. They still did it so they could feel that way.
Accepting the inherent selfishness of human nature will bring you salvation, my friend. And some pipe-cleaner-wielding simpletons will never, ever know.
I wonder if anyone actually uses pipe cleaners to clean pipes.
Leaders are always for themselves. If not for material benefits then for their ego. I had the same problem with the engineers at my working place. In coffee brakes they always feel the need to show me their superiority.
I don’t think there is such a thing as pure altruism. People do things for selfish reasons.