Dogs on Bicycles

Posted on May 21, 2012 by

Two weeks ago I had the privilege of riding alongside Mark Stephan, a low-functioning quadripalegic, and a group of his friends, across the inhospitable landscape of southwestern New Mexico and the west Texas panhandle.  What I witnessed there was not only an amazing instance of “self-interested care taking,” but also phenomenon I’m calling “inspired followership”.

As the leader, or Musher of this group of nine alpha males, Mark was remarkable in his conviction about the worth of his mission, his dedication to daily progress, and his attentiveness to his guests (although the daily physical challenge for Mark is something really beyond all our imagining).  We the dogs simply assembled each day, eager to join Mark on his ride.  Mark would announce the general distance he intended to ride, usually earmarked by a specific town where we could find food and lodging for the Stephan Challenge entourage.  We would kit-up, get on our bikes, and start to ride.  Mark kept the pace for the group, which for most of us was much slower than we usually ride; however, no one ever shot off ahead because they wanted to “go faster”.  Without instruction, each rider naturally would ride up along side Mark, who always held the lead (being in his recumbent tricycle, low to the ground, his view, unlike a Musher’s, would be of another rider’s rear sprocket).  After some period of unplanned time, that rider would fall back and another would take his place.  And so on.  When traffic started to thicken, riders would automatically begin to take a piece of the road, behind and to the left of Mark, to shield him from potential danger.  I marveled at how automatically this was all executed by a bunch of amateur cyclist.  Equally impressive, this behavior went on for hours and for scores of miles.

I also noted how each individual would ask Lincoln, Mark’s major domo, how we could each be helpful.  There was no ego, no sense of entitlement.  We changed pedals, we depleted hotel ice machines, we made sandwiches, we lifted Mark out of his trike at breaks.  Riders who hadn’t changed a bicycle flat since they were boys stopped to help one another, pondering over the advancements of the past forty years in bicycle tires, tools, and pumps.  We took care of each other, and Mark took care of us. Every evening we would stop, un-kit, and enjoy a cold beer outside the RV, telling tall tales of the day’s ride.  Mark would be sure to connect with each guest, asking after him.  He showed a genuine concern for each of us, and sincere gratitude for each rider’s presence.

We were participating in something very special.  Would our behaviors have been so optimal, so selfless, in a more mundane situation?  Would we have devolved into a group of alphas vying for leadership of the group?  Perhaps.  But in the presence of a truly dedicated, inspired, committed man like Mark, we each became inspired followers.  And this is the essence of Musher Management:  self interested care-taking has as its corollary, inspired followership.

I encourage you to follow Mark on his journey.  Follow his blog, or his tweets (@SChallenge), and you will witness a bonified instance of Musher Management happening daily – replacing sleds with bicycles.

Posted in Leadership, Musher Management, Self-Interested Caretaking, Uncategorized | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Not all CEO’s are Mushers, and not all Mushers are CEO’s

Posted on April 18, 2012 by

A close friend, Mark Stephan, endured a horrible cycling accident a number of years ago which left him a quadriplegic.

Mark’s wife, Margaret Ann, was told to expect the worse — she was told Mark would “likely be like (and end like) Christopher Reeves”.  Mark never saw his future that way.  And his grit, and willingness to subject himself to intense physical exertion, pain, and frequent disappointment was complemented by tremendously advanced medical care at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago (RIC).  Fast forward, and Mark now walks — albeit haltingly.  Further, he can pick up a wine glass and serve himself.  Mark is nothing short of a medical miracle.  But as important, Mark is a fascinating example of a great Musher.  Mark was vision-oriented from the very beginning of his rehabilitation.  He convinced others that his objectives could be met.  He pushed, and continues to push others — often knowledgeable medical experts — to believe that more could be achieved, and that he was the one, with their help, who could achieve it.

Many people in this situation would feel so helpless, and might blanch at the need to build and rely upon a team of family, friends, and medical institutions and professionals to realize an audacious vision of being able to walk again.  But Mark showed everyone the way, while demonstrating an unbelievable sense of caring for his team.  A great example of self-interested caretaking.  Mark’s a true Musher.

Now Mark is embarking upon yet another a personal  undertaking which most would say is audacious, let alone ambitious.  His intention is to ride a reclining tricycle 3,129 miles across the entire southern United States — from San Diego, CA to St Augustine, FL— over a three month period.  Riding along state routes, Mark and his entourage will get to reconnect with a portion of America which has largely become overlooked since the interstate system was put in place.  The ride, known as The Stephan Challenge , is not only for Mark to “prove he can do it,” but equally to raise money for the RIC.

After many months of careful, thoughtful planning, the ride’s begun!  I encourage you to visit the website and get a better sense of this remarkable man and of his incredible journey and cause.

If it sounds like I’m impressed with Mark, I am.  I am so impressed that I intend to join him for several days of his ride in late April and early May.  My portion of riding along with Mark will end in beautiful El Paso, Texas.  Then I’ll fly home.  But Mark will still have approximately 1,657 miles left to complete The Challenge.

However, with an inspirational Musher like Mark, he will always have a new team of fresh dogs to keep him company.

Posted in Leadership, Organization, Self-Interested Caretaking, Uncategorized, Vision | 2 Comments

The Musher Co-Authors Again

Posted on April 9, 2012 by

All, I’m a bit behind on my blogging, what with all this unseasonably warm weather in the north.  My next blog will be provocative, I assure you!

I’m pleased to announce the release of my second co-authored book, this time with an old friend and Acorn colleague, Terry Walsh.  The book is titled 99 Questions to Achieving Your Sales Goals: How to Manage Successful Sales Teams Just by Asking (and Answering) the Right Questions and may be purchased on Amazon.com.

Best!

Dave

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Knowing the Dogs from the Sled – A Cautionary Tale for CEO Recruiting

Posted on January 26, 2012 by

A recent article in Forbes “The Seven Habits of Spectacularly Unsuccessful Executives”, provides a great example of the danger of narcissism in the corner office.  Virtually all the examples provided damned the CEO in terms of his or her focus upon herself, or on their purported market or industry expertise.  As a consequence, CEOs will inevitably damn the company to a direction which perhaps once worked for the CEO, but isn’t likely to work again.   This should be a cautionary lesson for Board members who may be contemplating an opportunity to fill a CEO or other senior leadership role within their organization.

Why?  Because the narcissistic CEO is not open to the inputs and knowledge of his/her organization.   The figure below shows in the left column the original observations made by Sydney Finklestein, (the Steven Roth Professor of Management at the Tuck School of Business at Dartmouth College, whose book “Why Smart Executives Fail” is the article’s point of reference), and in the right column, complements to these failures as provided by article author Eric Jackson of Forbes:

In Musher parlance, these would be examples of the Musher focused upon themselves or the sled, but not the dogs and the team.

Over the past several years, perhaps the majority of the past decade, I have observed the executive recruiting industry, and Boards they serve, consistently falling into a trap.  Further, I think it begins to explain why CEO tenures are becoming briefer and briefer.  When an executive opportunity opens up in a consumer packaged goods company, the marquee recruiters in the CPG industry are called and counseled.  Rolodexes are spun, and the usual candidates from the same, or nearly the same, industry are contacted and recycled.

To follow the Musher metaphor, this all involves undue concern with the sled:  the sled being the business, and its context — who knows whom, who is known to whom, who can make a phone call in the middle of the night about a merger and it gets answered.

But Boards don’t seem to be saying, “what are our challenges, and how can our people — with their knowledge, passion for the industry, and commitment to the company — be properly led to overcome them?”.  This alternative view would provide a focus on a Musher who understands the dogs.  Sleds do not move of their own accord.  Mushers cannot move sleds (at least not far!).  Only dogs, teams of dogs, can move the sled. A Musher that understands, who is committed to understanding dogs, and who is committed to unleashing their power, can move a sled optimally.  So why isn’t there more focus on the managerial and leadership ability of executives in their recruitment?

During the recession (I use an historical tone, as I’m declaring the beginning of the thaw), “best athletes” or “people executives” were often passed over as candidates in favor of executives who had “deep industry expertise”.  Statistics show that these recycled executives have under-produced, both in terms of competitiveness and results, and this is reflected in their abbreviated tenures.

If you are Board member who witnesses some of the shortcomings listed above, ask yourself if your CEO is really capable of leading from the rear, of performing the hard work of motivating an organization to change and transform to become more competitive.  If you are a Board member contemplating an opportunity to fill a CEO role, I encourage you to look for candidates who know how to properly organize, manage, lead, and inspire a workforce.  You should be developing nuanced criteria to better glean candidates’ abilities along these lines.  Worry less about how many years they were at XYZ Corporation, or how well they are known in your industry.

Find Mushers who know and love dogs.

Posted in Leadership, Musher Management, Organization, Vision | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

The Musher Publishes

Posted on January 16, 2012 by

Fellow Mushers, I’m proud to announce the publication and sale of my first book, 99 Questions to Maximize the Sale of Your Business, available at Amazon.com both in paperback and on Kindle.

Getting published was more work than I thought, so I’m a bit behind on my blogging.  I will be posting a new entry within the next several days on the problem of selecting a Musher based upon his/her knowledge of sleds, versus dogs.

Posted in Communication, Leadership, Organization | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Management and Alignment

Posted on December 7, 2011 by

Since my last post, in addition to my client work, I’ve been principally focused on co-authoring two books to be published and available for sale on Amazon.com in December:  

In today’s blog I would like to discuss measurement and alignment, and close with some thoughts about the body of my blog postings in 2011.

There is a difference between leading and managing.  Musher Management™ espouses that “leading from the back of the sled” is the optimal behavioral strategy for a business leader.  But how does the Musher metaphor inform us about managerial excellence?

I have said in a previous post that “if it’s not measured, it’s not managed”.  You must know what you need to measure, and communicate why those measurements are critical both to you and your team’s success. But it is the alignment you derive from these measurements that is essential to managerial excellence.

When you get right down to it, the dog sledding rig is a pretty imprecise instrument of transport. Compared to an automobile or another type of mechanized transport, the dog sled and team are largely one big mess!  The sled sits on runners, which are designed more to handle the snow and ice-packed terrain than they are to provide a straight line of operation.  Further, the harnesses for the dogs are tight enough for power transfer, but loose enough not to impair the performance of the dogs.  The spacing rigging, which separates the dogs and defines their team position, provides considerable freedom among the dogs, allowing them to individually achieve traction and power while also transferring energy to the sled in a fairly uniform, team-like fashion.  Yet, even with all this “mess,” the dog sled has a history of moving lives and payloads across great, inhospitable distances with a fairly high rate of success.

Because of this “mess,” measurement is important, and alignment — and realignment — are critical.  Rigging gets tangled.  Sleds inevitably veer off course.  Like the dog sledding team, people and organizations are likewise imprecise.  Our enterprises are attempting to move forward, in some sort of synchronized way, but confusion and chaos are inevitable.  As Mushers, knowing how often, and how much to adjust course, or when to outright stop the sled and re-work the harnesses or rigging, takes considerable skill.  The team looks to you to provide this alignment.

Do you know what you need to manage to run your race?   As important, do you know what you need to measure to understand how well you are running the race? Finally, are you paying close enough attention to make the necessary (re)alignments in a timely fashion?

—–

A friend recently asked me to provide a reflection on my 2011′s postings.  He called it the Musher Management™ “crib sheet,” so here goes:

  • Plan your course, and stick to it; however, course correct often.  Use the wisdom of the team to know when and how much to deviate.
  • Don’t take risks without understanding the depth of the downside, but do learn from mistakes and disappointments.
  • Communicate clearly and execute with intention.
  • Confer credit and distribute praise generously.
  • Celebrate victories widely.

As we move into 2012, and the recession hopefully begins to recede, we must be focused on profitable, sustainable growth.  Growth means movement, with new complexities and challenges.  Mushers must tend to their teams more than ever to ensure results.  Inspired leadership, clarity of vision, and fearlessness will be the keys to the recovery — extending out from within our individual households, to our marketplaces, to our government, to society itself.

Good luck to all.  Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, and the Best to you and your loved ones in the New Year!

Dave

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Was Steve Jobs a Musher?

Posted on October 11, 2011 by

Dear Reader — Happy Fall (if you are living in North America)!  As a Chicagoan, you learn to make the most of the limited summer we enjoy, so I have been somewhat remiss in keeping my blog posts fresh and contemporary.  I had originally intended to blog about Steve Jobs’s resignation as Apple’s CEO, only to let time lapse, and now Jobs has passed away.  I am saddened that someone who has had such a big impact on my life, even without my knowing him, is gone.

A colleague turned me on to an article about Jobs wherein the author praised Jobs for his zero tolerance for obstructions.  Jobs envisioned certain futures for the industry, certain ambitions for Apple, certain functionality for Apple’s hardware and software, which were crystal clear to him.  His persistence in making manifest his vision certainly leads one to believe he was a Musher — the firm presence at the rear of the sled which lends courage and conviction to the team as it pulls the sled.  But other qualities in Jobs call into question if he was a true Musher.

The trend in the first twenty-four hours after Jobs’ death was to nearly cannonize him for this obsession and persistence — basically for his outcomes.

However, within just a few days, a few writers attempted to take a more objective view of Jobs’ successes through the lens of his managerial style, in other words, his means.  In a recent posting by Ryan Tate on Gawker  Tate expounds in some detail on Jobs’ sometimes nefarious “crispness” as a manager — sometimes berating, cajoling, and humiliating managers to achieve results.  While I have gone to great lengths in my own career to avoid these behaviors, I do know that they exist outside Apple, and they are most often displayed in entrepreneurial, or cult-of-personality led companies where such behaviors are simply understood and/or tolerated with the explanation that they are “part of the culture.”  Interestingly enough, however, I have not found that the behavior to be repeated throughout the company simply because the CEO engages in that behavior.

The object lesson in Jobs’ managerial style may be in the break-down between the vision of the Musher — where we are going, or must go — and the explanation of that need to the team.  Jobs did a great job communicating his vision to you and me, through his stage presence and through the products themselves.  But we all benefited from an historical perspective and clarity, as if the journey were already completed and the race already won.  The Musher on the other hand needs to communicate that same clarity of vision and of the future along the way, as the path is being both traversed and created at the same time.  Telling people “they don’t get it” is not managing.  Explaining in appropriate detail where you want to go, why you want to go there, and how you intend to go is the surest way to create alignment, and extract high-performance from the team.

Apple is a massive enterprise, many times larger and more complex than anything I’ve ever run, so I am going to heap my praise on the management organization, which worked diligently to operationalize Jobs’ vision.  There is no question that Jobs was a visionary, in so many ways; yet, I do not think he was a student of or innovator in matters of management.  I wouldn’t be surprised if Steve thought “management” largely gets in the way of great results.  Hence, I am going out on a limb to say I do not think he was a true Musher.  Brave, bold, charismatic? Yes.  Someone who expected the most of himself, and of others? Yes.  But not a Musher.

Your take?

Posted in Leadership, Musher Management, Uncategorized, Vision | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments