Re:Focus

Lie To Get What You Want

On this particular night, Michael ordered the soup. “Is it vegetable stock or chicken stock?” he asked the waitress. “Vegetable,” she replied. “Are you sure,” Michael continued, “I can’t have it if it’s chicken based.” “It’s vegetable,” replied the waitress again confidently.

My friend Michael is a strict vegetarian. He loves going out for dinner with his friends and never complains. He can always find something to eat, he says. When we went out for dinner recently, I witnessed a little trick he uses to ensure he stays a vegetarian when he’s not doing the cooking himself.

The soup arrived. It looked good and smelled even better. Again Michael asked the waitress, “you’re sure this is vegetable stock, right? Because I’m really allergic to chicken and if there’s any chicken in it I will have a seizure.”  And with that the waitress’s eyes got a little bigger. “Lemme just check,” she said as she went off to ask someone else. Within less than a minute, she walked back and took the bowl of soup away from Michael. “It’s chicken stock,” she said.

Until the waitress was accountable for Michael’s health, she didn’t seem too interested in ensuring that her answer was indeed right. The time it took her to find out was seconds. Giving Michael what he preferred didn’t seem to motivate her until she thought she may be responsible for anything more than disappointing a customer.

But this is not a story of how we sometimes have to lie to get someone to care about us. It’s actually something more positive. As soon as Michael shifted the accountability to the waitress, she was much more willing to invest more time and attention to Michael’s needs. In other words, when we make others accountable for what could be even negative results, people rise to the occasion.

We could all do a bit better at giving others accountability for things at work. If we give someone responsibility but then double check their work a hundred times before sending it to the client, then they are no longer accountable…we are. If we demand that someone ask us permission before doing anything, then we are the ones giving permission as opposed to assigning responsibility.

People are funny animals. When given serious responsibility, we tend to take it seriously and almost always rise to the challenge. The best organizations know this well. They don’t assign tasks to their people, they assign responsibility. And with shared responsibility, people tend to seek help from each other more often, increasing the quality of teamwork.  The reason is simple, when we work together, we’re more likely to succeed than if we work alone.

It’s the most poetic of paradoxes. The more individual accountability we give to someone, the more they are willing to accept the help of others to ensure everything goes right. Even the waitress knew that.

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How To Talk About Your Weaknesses

It’s hard enough that we have to talk about our strengths to others, but our weaknesses? That’s just the worst. Even more confounding, we’re only asked to talk about our weaknesses and our strengths in an interview, but after we get the job, we’re rarely ever asked to talk about what makes us so great again. Our weaknesses, however, seem to come up in every time we make a mistake or something goes wrong.  So instead of learning to talk about what makes us great, it seems more valuable to learn how to talk about what holds us back if, for no other reason, it can help us move forward.

There are two very common mistakes we make when answering the question, “what’s your biggest weakness?”  In an attempt to be clever or even be honest, we can end up doing ourselves more harm than good.

1. Replacing a weakness with a strength

This one is very common. “What’s your biggest weakness?” the interviewer asks. “My biggest weakness is I’m a perfectionist,” we respond thinking we’ve outwitted the interviewer or dodged a bullet. Ironically, by not answering the question, we are making it more difficult for the interviewer, if they hire us, to put us in a position of strength. In other words, in an attempt to sound strong we increase the likelihood of being weak.

2. A little too honest

Some people when asked, “what’s your biggest weakness,” get straight into the thick of it, “I’m really disorganized. It’s really the thing that holds me back sometimes.” Though I appreciate the honesty, the answer lacks context. We may as well look someone in the eye and say, “I’m not the person you’re looking for because you can’t rely on me.”

The best way to talk about our weaknesses is to be honest about them, for sure, but in the context of the balancing strength. Here’s what I mean:

“What’s your biggest weakness?”

“I do my best work in a team. There is nothing I love more than working with others, the back and forth of ideas. I love it. In contrast, you won’t get the best work out of me if I’m always on projects that require me to work alone.”

Here's another example:

“I’m the one who’s always looking into the future. Where others are working to figure out what we need to do tomorrow, I’m already looking for opportunities on the horizon – six months, a year, sometimes five years ahead. Organizations with a desire to innovate and go far for a long time love that about me. The flip side is I can be a little disorganized with what I need to do today or tomorrow.”

Everything in the world is balanced. For every weakness we have, we have a strength that explains or provides context for that weakness. Both these examples offer honest answers to the question but do so within the context of why that weakness exists. The result? We’re more likely to be seen as trustworthy because we’re willing to offer an honest answer to vulnerable questions and, more importantly, the person listening to us is more likely to put us in a job that highlights our strengths and mitigates our weaknesses…which is good for us and good for them.

Knowing how to talk about our weaknesses, it turns out, can be one of our greatest strengths.

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Two, Not Three: Boost Sales By Offering Less

Starting as a shoe salesman in the 1950's, Ben Prober went on to own a very successful chain of women's shoe stores. The prices at his stores weren't the cheapest. The selections weren't that much different from any other shoe store in town. And the stores themselves were pretty basic. They were nice enough, but nothing that our design-and-experience obsessed era would consider a competitive advantage.

With no apparent superior offering or value added, how did Prober Shoes managed to outsell their competition year after year after year?

When asked the secret to his great success, Ben would reply simply, "two, not three." You see, Ben understood something about human beings that modern business has long forgotten: more choice is bad.

When a lady came into one of his shops, the odds were good that she would want to try on more than one pair of shoes. If she already had two styles to choose from and asked for a third option Ben would reply, "Of course, madam, I'd be happy to fetch you the style of your choice. And, which one would you like me to take away?"

What Ben learned is that when his customers had two options, they could easily make a choice which style they preferred. However, when they had three or more to choose from, they had more trouble making a decision and, more often than not, left the store without any pair of shoes.

Even if customers think they want more choice, the facts are overwhelmingly against them. Not only are we more likely to make a purchase with fewer options, but the confidence we have in our choices and satisfaction we get from those choices is considerably higher than if we are forced to choose from a larger selection. In other words, the only result of competing with "more," is less.

It may pay for us to look back on the days when helping people make decisions was more about actually helping them make a decision. Despite all our advances in getting more products to market, it turns out how people decide hasn't changed at all.

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Purpose Can Not Be Rationalized

I felt sick. I wanted to curl up in a ball and be alone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

I was ashamed.

To most people, what I did would seem a trifle, but to me it was much deeper. I gave a talk to an organization that violates the very core of my beliefs.  In my mind, I felt like a sellout.

In my pre-engagement calls, I had a bad feeling about this group. They treated me like some vendor. I could barely get a question in they were talking so much. They also sent an email telling me what to wear – dress pants and a jacket. Had they done no research on me? I always wear jeans. But I talked myself out of it, “stop acting like a diva,” I told myself.

I sat backstage waiting for my time to speak, listening to the executives give their talks to the group. They presented themselves as a company that sells financial advice, but in my opinion, they weren’t doing it in an honorable way.  It seemed to me to be more like a pyramid scheme; a multilevel marketing organization that makes money on recruiting new financial planners and having them use their “system” to win clients. All they did was talk about money and who were the high performers. Never once did they talk about helping their clients. – the people they are supposed to be serving.

I believe in helping people and doing right by others. This company preyed on people’s ambitions. They weren’t interested in helping people, they were interested in exploiting them and profiting off their risk. I felt sick. I didn’t want to be there and I didn’t want to be a part of it.

I made my choice. There was something I had that they didn’t: the microphone.  They were going to put me on the stage, turn on a spotlight and let me speak, uninterrupted for 60 minutes. I would use that time to share my message. To preach. And preach I did. I spoke of the power of trust. I spoke of giving to others as the most selfish thing any person could do, because the more we look out for others, the more others will look out for us. I chastised systems that manipulate (and I stared right at the senior executives when I did).

I told stories I had heard from my time with the military, stories of heroism and sacrifice. “They give medals to people who are willing sacrifice themselves so that others may gain,” I said. “In business, we give bonuses to those who are willing to sacrifice others so that we may gain. We’ve got it backwards,” I implored.

They clapped at the end, but I didn’t stick around. I walked off the stage, grabbed my stuff and walked straight out the back door. I didn’t talk to anyone and I didn’t want anyone to talk to me. I felt sick and ashamed that I was a part of this.

I joined the daily huddle call our little company has where we share what we’re up to for the day and ask for help if we need it. I didn’t follow the normal procedure.  Instead, I confessed.  I told them how I felt.

My team was amazing. “Don’t sweat it,” they said trying to make me feel better, “we’re sure your message resonated and you converted a few.” One by one they took turns trying to help me see something good that may have come from this experience.  But purpose cannot be rationalized.

I remember when I worked in the advertising industry and I asked one of the executives what societal good advertising does? “We help drive the economy,” was his response. So did the manufacturers of gas chambers during the holocaust. Finding elements of good does not equal a noble purpose. It’s just rationalizing.

Providing jobs, driving the economy, serving the shareholder are not purposes. They are rationalizations used when a greater cause or purpose is not clear or not there.  Real purpose has a clear and definitive direction. It is a path that points towards a very specific vision of the future. Rationalizations have no destination, they are simply a calculation to demonstrate some benefit to justify the actions. Rationalizations are just that: rational. In contrast, purpose is deeply emotional. This is why we feel passion and intense drive when we are involved with something that has purpose. And it’s why we get that sick feeling when we do something in violation of that purpose. There is no sick feeling from violating a rationalized purpose…nor is there an invigorating passion to pursue it.

Because a true sense of purpose is deeply emotional, it serves as a compass to guide us to act in a way completely consistent with our values and beliefs. Purpose does not need to involve calculations or numbers. Purpose is about the quality of life. Purpose is human, not economic.

I thanked my team for their support, but insisted that we could not and should not try to rationalize making these kinds of errors.  They are mistakes and we should learn from them to avoid finding ourselves in the same position again in the future. We should feel ashamed when they happen and we should also hold each other accountable and support each other to avoid decisions that would leave us in a position where we are forced to compromise what we stand for. We’ve already implemented new checks and balances to avoid the same situation happening again.

The company I spoke for already signed a contract for me to speak at another one of their events later this year. The problem for them is, I won’t be there. There is no contract on the planet that can force me to violate what I stand for. I will lose money and I will certainly ruffle some feathers…and that’s fine by me.  They will all get over it in due course…I wouldn’t. They will rationalize why I was the wrong person for the job anyway. But I could never feel whole for showing up, no matter how much money they offered. Money is a calculation. My values are who I am.

 

P.S. After the event the client sent a complaint to the speakers bureau. They were upset that I wore jeans and no jacket. :-)

The Definition of an Authentic Brand

You need to talk to someone you can trust. There are two men standing there, one is wearing a long black robe with a cross around his neck.  The other is wearing a t-shirt with a skull on the front and a pair of ripped jeans.  The question is, whom do you choose?

Got it?

Now, I should also tell you, one of them is wearing clothes he borrowed from someone else.

This exact scenario is how many companies build their brands - they ask someone else if they can borrow their clothes.

Some companies like to copy what has worked for a company they admire - like copying Apple's aesthtic when designing their products.

Worse, many companies go into the market to ask their customers what they want...what they believe. Some clever marketers will take all that wonderful data and mine it for insights which become the basis upon which they will build their brand - how they will show up in the market.

Is the company presenting who they really are or are they telling people what they really believe or stand for? Or is the company simply borrowing what they heard with the hope that people will trust them more if they say those things?

In the case of the clergyman and the ruffian, a quick conversation with both will immediately reveal the fraud - the one who is simply dressing the part verus being who we expected them to be.  An authentic brand is the same. A few interactions with the company quickly reveals if their marketing and branding is simply saying what they think will appeal to us instead of telling us what they really think.  The difference is authenticity.

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Go Slow

In this day and age of soundbites and instant gratification, we often forget the value of spending time doing something of value.

We live in a world in which a YouTube video longer than 5 min is considered too long and the ideas that are supposed to change the world are only given a maximum time of 18 minutes on TED.com.

In our fast world, slow should not be a luxury reserved for time off on a beach or in a spa. Slow is a necessity. None of us learned to ride a bike in an afternoon. The process was slow. None of us formed deep, trusting and lasting relationships over one beer. The process was slow.

There is a reason a home cooked meal has greater value than fast food...and it’s not just because of the ingredients. It’s because a meal cooked at home is slow. It has to be. We can’t make something with love in a microwave. The process is slow.

Slow is what allows us to learn. Slow is what allows us to trust. Slow is what allows us to feel love for each other. The problem with slow is it requires time. And that’s exactly why it’s so powerful. It is the single greatest gift we can give someone - to give them our time. To offer hours, days, weeks, months or more knowing full well that any time we spend we will not get back, ever. Time is a non-refundable commodity. Once it’s spent, it’s gone. Time, more than money, has real, lasting value.

Anything slow, by definition, takes time...and that's exactly what makes it special.

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The Definition of Purpose

I spend nearly every single day talking about what it means to live your Why - to live with a sense of purpose, cause or belief. But what happens when we wake up one day without a sense of purpose or cause? What happens when we used to have clarity and it slips away?

That is what happened to me. But it didn't happen over a career. The feelings were exaggerated so much that it felt like I lived an entire life in just one day.

This is what I learned.

Click here to read a letter written by the pilot who brought home some of the soldiers who died in the Chinook crash in August about his experience.

Will We Cry When You Die? An Open Letter.

Dear Michael Dell, Larry Ellison, Larry Page and other CEOs of large American corporations:

I am sure you all saw the news when Steve Jobs died. The spontaneous, international show of mourning was nothing short of amazing.

My question is, do you think we will cry when you die?

The irony is that Jobs was more like you than like us. Jobs was a multi-billionaire who lived in a walled mansion and flew around on private jets when he traveled. Most of us never got to meet Jobs and we certainly couldn’t call him or schedule a meeting with him – just as most of us will never have a chance to meet you either.

The reality is, you are much more like him than we are. You are all visionaries and innovators in your own right. You all imagined a world, far off in the future, that didn’t exist yet and set out to build it. Each of you, your products and companies really did change the way we live our lives…in the case of a few of you, arguably even more than Jobs did.  You took big risks, sometimes winning and sometimes losing, and in the process you lived the America dream and built huge, multinational corporations. You’re all pretty remarkable people by any standards and, there is no question, we respect you.  Though I’m sure you’re all pretty decent guys, we won’t cry when your time comes because, well, we just don’t love you.

And that’s the one thing Jobs had that resulted in mass shows of emotion when we lost him. We loved him. We didn’t love him for what he built or accomplished. Those things are not, in comparison to all of you, exceptional. We loved him for something he gave us that exists on a level far greater than any product or technology - he gave us something to believe in. It is that one seemingly minor thing, something deeply seeded in our reptilian, limbic brains, that he mastered and most of you have lost. Steve Jobs stood for something.

If you have any fantasies of spontaneous public love when your time comes, then you need to go back to your own roots. You need to rediscover your own cause – the thing that inspired you when you had nothing but a dream and a bunch of friends willing to help you build it. You used to be able to inspire a room with your words, now you work hard to ensure the analysts like what you say.

Go back to the time when you were the idealist, when you stood for something, when your dreams were clearer than the reality that told you that you were crazy. Go back to that. Be that person again…the one we used to love.

Jobs was not unique for what he built. He was not unique for the gift he had. It wasn’t even unique that he had a bold vision for how the world should operate. What made him remarkable was that he never lost it…not until the day he died.  And for that, we miss him dearly.

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Don't Confuse Listening With Covering Your Ass

“We have listened to our customers very closely over the last few weeks,” said David Darnell, co-COO of Bank of America, “and recognize their concern with our proposed debit usage fee.”

This is a standard line when a plan to gouge customers backfires.

In the case of Bank of America, they didn’t propose, as Mr. Darnell attempted to explain, they implemented a plan in which customers were charged a $5 transaction fee to use their debit cards. It doesn’t take Nostradamus to predict that customers may have a less than desirable reaction to such a preposterous idea.

This is a sad commentary on the direction business is heading these days. Companies like Bank of America no longer see their customers as people, they see them as cows to be milked. The problem is, instead of pacing and looking after the cow, they will keep milking to the point they get kicked in the face or the cow dies…whichever happens first. In this case of their new fees, they got kicked in the face.

Companies that really listen to their customers do so before they make decisions not after they need to pick up the pieces. Companies that listen do things that are actually intended for the customer.  In contrast, companies that don’t listen only say they are listening when things don't go according to plan.

I would have more respect for Bank of America if Mr. Darnell was honest. “We were looking for ways to increase our profit and thought a transaction fee to debit card transactions was a good strategy. The negative reaction was much worse than we anticipated so we’ve decided to reverse course and look for other ways to maintain growth and profit.” A statement like that would at least be consistent with whom Bank of America really sees as their primary concern: their shareholders. And at least we can respect that the bank was telling us what we already knew or expected (it's called integrity).

I don’t care what companies choose to do to make money. I believe in a free market economy and believe customers can express themselves with their feet. If Bank of America wants to gouge us, more power to them. They wouldn’t be the first to try it or get away with it (think airlines charging us to bring luggage on our vacations). I just believe in transparency – which means giving us the REAL context for a decision (for more on this read The Battered-Wife Customer Service Model)

The only listening Bank of America did was to the sound of money trickling out as customers closed accounts in higher than expected numbers. And if you need more proof that they were just covering their ass with their new-found concern for customer opinion, why the heck is a Chief Operating Officer, a numbers and operations guy, making announcements about customer care.

Saddest of all, this is not an article bashing Bank of America. They are just the latest example of a modern company that has replaced a person with a number and erroneously called that number a customer.

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Face Reality And Not Your Imagination

There have been many occasions when I’ve been on a plane and we hit some bad turbulence that my heart started pounding. I am not a nervous flyer, per se, but sometimes I imagine elaborate scenarios of all the things that are going wrong in the cockpit and it freaks me out. I’ll hear strange noises sometimes, and think it’s the end. I’ll start sweating. My heart will start beating harder and faster.

It happened last night again. I was on a flight cruising across the country to San Diego when the lights on the plane went out. I was concerned... not overly…but I certainly started to imagine why the lights went out. Did something short out? Was there spark? Does old wiring catch fire? Then, about 30 minutes later, the lights went out again. This time, my heart pounded a little harder. Then, about 20 minutes later, they went out again.  A movie was playing on my iPad, but I couldn’t focus on it. My eyes were peeled out the window instead, I was watching the wing and the engine to make sure everything was ok.

Staring out the window, I noticed that the stars were turning. We were turning. A huge turn. Aircrafts make course adjustments throughout a flight, I know that, but when you’re heading across the country, there is no need for a 90+ degree turn. My breathing became shallow. My imagination was racing. I needed to put my mind at ease.

I hit the flight attendant call button. “I’m probably just being a nervous flyer,” I told the flight attendant, “I noticed the plane making a huge turn and have no idea why we’re making a huge turn. Perhaps you could ask the captain to come on the PA to let us know what was happening,” I suggested, knowing that hearing the captain would stop my mind from inventing scenarios..

The flight attendant leaned in and said, “we’ve lost one of our generators, but we have another one.” My brow started to sweat profusely. “Is it dangerous?” I asked. “We have a second generator,” she replied with false confidence. She looked shaken.

Not a minute later, the captain came on the PA. “Ladies and gentleman,” he began politely, “we’ve lost our right engine generator and we’ve lost our APU,” he said matter-of-factly referring to the auxiliary power unit – the plane’s back-up power generator. “Procedure dictates that in a situation like this, we divert, so we’re going to be landing in Oklahoma City.”

It was at that point, I started to relax. I didn’t know why I was so relaxed, but I was. When I imagined something was going wrong, my heart was pounding. Now that something was wrong, I was cool as a cucumber.

The flight attendants came on the PA and asked us all to store our electronics, put our seats up our tray tables away and prepare for landing. “I’m not sure when we will be landing,” she said, “the pilots are busy, but we’ll be landing soon.”

About five minutes later we began to descend. There was a pretty thick cloud cover, so I couldn’t see the ground, though now and then I could see some hazy city lights through the clouds. I remarked to myself under my breath, “why are you so relaxed?” I was in disbelief. Getting wrapped up in my imagination I can bring myself to a near panic state. And now, when my heart should be pounding and I should be sweating…I wasn’t.

I paid attention to the landing procedures. Our airbrakes engaged to slow us down. That’s a good sign. The flaps extended - also a good sign. We were making a steady descent but I didn’t hear the wheels go down. Again, I spoke to myself out loud and under my breath, “no wheels.” And then actually continued to calmly declare, “well, if we have no wheels, I guess we’ll land on our belly.” The whole time, still remarking in disbelief how completely relaxed I was. I almost wanted my heart to speed up – it seemed more appropriate.

The wheels deployed shortly after and we landed safely in Oklahoma City with fire engines and ambulances lining the runway.  We came to stop and were escorted by a whole fleet of emergency vehicles to the gate. I think the whole plane sighed a collective sigh of relief; it certainly was nice to be on the ground.

I made a few calls to let folks back home know what was going on. It was only then, telling the story, did I get a little emotional and feel my pulse rate increase. But we were ok and I found my composure pretty quickly.

I stayed the night at an airport hotel, still calm, waiting for an aftershock of panic. But it didn’t come. I wasn’t the least bit bothered by all the inconvenience of getting stuck and trying to get back home. We were safely on the ground and all that stuff was just plumbing.

Lying in bed that night, I replayed the events of the evening back in my head, still amazed at how relaxed I was. I also realized how our imaginations get the better of us. The number of times I’ve imagined scenarios where I was going to lose everything at work if I made the wrong decision. The number of times I thought my career was over because of something that happened outside my control. Or, armed with only the proof or scenarios I conjured up in my own imagination, I thought people I liked or worked with we planning to abandon me. Yet, in reality, I still make decisions. I still take risks and make mistakes. Things go wrong all the time and yet we deal with them…and life goes on.

When things are fine, we look for all the things going wrong. We imagine. We fester. We worry. When things really do go wrong…and things always go wrong….we deal with it. We look for all the things going right. Before the captain came on, I could only see the lights going out and imagine a fire behind the walls. Once we were making our unscheduled landing with only one working generator, I listened for the flaps and wheels to deploy – signs of things going right.

This sudden change of perspective in times of danger - perhaps it’s our survival instinct, a way we’ve developed to increase our chances of survival. Or perhaps, in times of stress and adversity, there really is hope and opportunity.

 

As an endnote, I would like to thank the flight crew of that Delta flight. I didn’t get to thank them in person. They were grace under pressure. And the ground staff that greeted us at an all but closed Oklahoma City airport, they were fantastic. I’ve never in my life experienced such remarkable service and generous spirit.

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Our Survival Skills Become Our Talents

Martin was a scrawny kid when he was in high school. He wasn’t that tall and he wasn’t that strong. He didn’t excel at any athletic activities and was an average student. By normal high school rules, Martin would be considered a target. A target for bullies, a target for ribbing from other students or even teachers.

But no one laid a finger on Martin. Not ever. And the reason was simple. Everyone liked Martin because he was funny. If anything, people enjoyed having him in their class – students and teachers alike.

Something deep inside Martin’s brain knew he couldn’t compete on a physical level or academic level so, in order to survive high school, he developed a fantastic sense of humor.  Now, as an adult, we refer to Martin’s sense of humor as his gift.

I grew up with ADD and thank goodness no one diagnosed it. If they had, I wouldn’t have been forced to learn the skills to survive. Unable to focus, I too had to learn how to get through high school. My still-forming mind and personality could have taken me in two different directions – I could have become a victim of my weaknesses or I could figure out a way around it.

At an early age I learned to help others. I had to…I needed their help in return. I learned to talk, develop a charm and a curiosity for what others were doing. It wasn’t an option. If I didn’t do the reading for my English class because I couldn’t focus long enough to get it done (no matter how much my parents yelled at me to concentrate) I’d still need to know what the reading was about for class the next day. So I’d ask someone…and we’d talk about it.

It was because I lacked a natural ability to focus that I learned to spend more time talking about subjects instead of reading about them. I had to. Without it, I’d fail. This survival skill carried me through college also. I rarely cut class in college. If I didn’t go to class, I’d have to read the books and that would be the end for me. I spent hours talking to colleagues and professors after class - learning. And thank goodness I did…because I don’t think I read a single book in college.

As an adult nobody looks at my skills as survival skills, they look at me and say “what a talent you have.” When we’re young, the things we learn in order to survive become our talents when we’re adults.

Richard Branson suffered from terrible dyslexia as a boy. As an adult, we hail his ability to rally people and solve problems. A “talent” he freely admits was born out of a need to survive as a kid.

The greatest thing any parent or teacher can give a child is the support to solve their own problems. The goal is not to force a kid who struggles to work harder at being like everyone else. The goal is help a kid who struggles to find a workaround for the specific thing that’s holding them back. The skills our children learn to overcome adversity when they are young will become their talents when they are older. And it is these talents that will invent and build the products and companies that will help and inspire the rest of us when they’re older.

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Blow Up Your Business Before Someone Else Does

In the early 1980s, Steve Jobs and a few Apple executives visited the Xerox Corporation to see a new technology they had developed. It was called the Graphic User Interface or GUI – it allowed people to interact with a computer through a series of pictures and icons instead of having to know .dos or some other computer language.

At the time of the visit, Apple was hard at work developing the Lisa – it was to be their next big idea after the Apple II. They had poured millions of dollars and an exorbitant amount of time and sweat into developing the Lisa. But this graphic user interface was a revolutionary idea…and the young Steve Jobs knew it.

Like Kodak, who invented the digital camera in the 1970s but suppressed the technology for fear that it would eat away at film sales, so too was Xerox suppressing their idea for fear it too would cannibalize their existing business.

Jobs pulled aside his executives and told them that he wanted to abandon the Lisa and develop the graphic user interface instead. Shocked, one of his executives exclaimed, “but Steve, if we do that, we’ll blow up our own business.”  To which Jobs replied, “better we should blow it up than someone else.”

Apple abandoned the Lisa and, a few years later, in 1984, introduced the Macintosh; a move that would revolutionize the entire computer industry.

Steve Jobs was not unique in his ability to see great ideas. Kodak and Xerox both saw the power of their respective innovations. So much so, in fact, that they worked to keep them hidden knowing full well the impact their technologies would have. What made Jobs a remarkable leader was not his ability to simply see great ideas but to seize them, even if it meant abandoning work already done and money already spent. He would often quote Wayne Gretzky,  who said, "a good hockey player plays where the puck is. A great hockey player plays where the puck is going to be." And that's exactly what Jobs believed. What’s the point of continuing to pour money into an idea that will be dead on arrival? Cut your losses and blow up your own business before someone else does. Don't play where the market is, play where it's going to be.

The music industry refused to blow up their own business. They worked hard to sell albums in a digital world that wanted to buy songs, only to have Apple blow up their businesses with iTunes.

Publishing refuses to blow up their own business leaving them exposed to an online retailer, Amazon, to blow it up for them.

A great idea is a great idea and great ideas cannot be suppressed…at least not forever. The ones who get to profit from the great ideas, however, are not the one who develop them necessarily, but the ones willing to embrace those ideas before anyone else does.

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Caring About Your Customers Only When You Have To

Fact: every single company cares about their customers...the difference is how they care about them.

I live on a block in New York City that has a Food Emporium on it. It is a sad excuse for a supermarket. The produce is very poor quality, the layout of the store is disastrous and the staff would much rather be somewhere else…at least that’s how they make the customers feel. 

But recently, a Fairway Market moved in less than a block away from the Food Emporium. Fairway is, in a word, amazing. The aisles are well stocked and brightly lit. The produce is incredible, fresh and ripe. The staff is friendly and helpful…in fact, there is staff there whose only job is to help customers find what we’re looking for. The quality is astounding and the prices are cheaper than most of the other supermarkets in the area. People travel from miles away to shop at the Fairway. I’ve even found myself going food shopping more often because it’s such a great place.

Once Fairway moved in, something strange started to happen. All of a sudden, Food Emporium started advertising around the neighborhood. They started talking about change…change for us, they said. In addition to the advertising, they now have people passing out coupons offering discounts on various products.

It’s clear the only time Food Emporium started thinking about their customers was when another company who really cares about their customers moved in.

It is true that every company cares about their customers. However, some companies, like Food Emporium, care about them because they see them as dollar signs. And some companies, like Fairway, care about them because they see them as people.

When a company sees their customers as dollar signs, they treat them as a metric. Something to balance efficiencies, increase margins and decrease expenses. When a company sees their customers as people, they treat them like human beings. Something to look after, worry about and give an amazing experience to.

If companies only care about their customers when they have to, it's probably too late. Even if Food Emporium changes everything…I still know they never really cared about me. But that’s ok…I never really cared about them. 

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The Night The Lighthouse Went Out

Today we've lost a lighthouse. Steve Jobs, the man who stood for so much more than sleek design or innovation, the man who stood for people, is gone.

He was singularly devoted, not to technology, but how people interacted with technology. It wasn't for us to fit into a world of computers, it was for the computers to fit into a world of people. And that's what made Jobs different. That's what made Jobs special.

There are many great CEOs and there are great innovators, but we won't miss them the same way we'll miss Jobs.  Jobs lived above his company and its products. This is what made Jobs one of the great leaders of our time. He didn't lead a company - he led us. He inspired us. He had a cause and we followed him in his pursuit.

For all those who think different, the rebels, the misfits, those who see the world differently, Jobs gave us language. He gave us a way to show people who we are, what we believe. He gave us symbols, like beacons, so that we can more easily find those who believe what we believe. And most of all, he made us feel like we belong. He reminded us that the ones who see things differently are the ones who change the world.

Rest in peace Steve, for you accomplished what you set out to do...you changed the world...and our lives are better for it.

You will be missed.

The Power of the Young

Jill is an entrepreneur. She is a big thinker with big ideas. She is also an idealist. She imagines a world in which companies make their impact on society their primary bottom line and the financial results that follow as their second bottom line. She is smart and articulate and her ideas are really good, but she's struggling to get anyone to take her seriously.

What's the problem?

According to the companies that close the door on her, it's because she's only 24.

There is something about youth that the more experienced often forget and don't take advantage of - their passion. Passion is a valuable currency. Some are rich with it and some poor. Some trade it in over the course of their careers only to be left at the end of their lives with a big house and a fast car but no more passion.  The youth, low on experience, are often rich in passion. More importantly, it is their passion that provides the necessary capital required to make the kind of progress that the financially rich can only look upon and drool.

Steve Jobs was 21 when he founded Apple. Mark Zuckerberg was 20 when he started Facebook. Michael Dell was 20 when his company built its first computer, Bill Gates was 20 when Microsoft became Microsoft. Larry Page and Sergey Brin were  25 when they founded Google and Richard Branson was only 22 when he opened Virgin Records. Everyone on this list was low on experience and even lower on cash when they started.  All they had was an intense passion to pursue their visions and an ability inspire others to join them in their pursuit.

Horatio Nelson, the British admiral made famous for defeating Napoleon's navy  at the Battle of Trafalgar, had an unusual habit when at sea. He would go to the bottom deck and spend time with his most junior officers. In those days, this was just not done...an admiral socializing with the youngest ranks? It was unheard of. But Nelson didn't go down to tell them a thing or two. He didn't go below deck to whip them into shape. Quite the opposite. He spent time with them to get something from them. To get something they had lots of, more than any of his ranking officers: unbridled passion and blind optimism...and Nelson loved it!

As we progress in our careers our passion has a tendency to wane. We get mired in the weeds. We become more concerned about benefits and compensation packages. We make safer and safer decisions for fear we may lose what we've worked so hard to get. Worse, we often forget why we started down the path in the first place. The young remind us why we started. They remind us of ourselves when we were their age. They are like a jolt of electricity that can recharge even the most beleaguered of devices.

Nelson spent time below deck to soak up this passion. He understood that it was the responsibility of the experienced to pass down their lessons to the inexperienced, so that, one day, they would become the great admirals of the seas. But he also understood that the passionate had a vital role to play in the system. Nelson wanted to hear their ideas, their dreams, their optimism. It kept him going. His ability to "stay young" was one of the reasons he became on of the greatest leaders in history - commanding astonishing loyalty from the young and the experienced alike.

To all those people who told Jill you're not interested in her ideas because she has no experience, may I remind you, that's not her job...it's yours.  Your job is to hear the ideas you don't have and figure out how to make them happen. That's the value of experience. And, in the process, you may just achieve something great...just like you dreamed of when you were young.

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Obligate Ram Ventilation

Careers are like a shark, to be successful we have to keep moving forwards.

In order to breathe, most sharks have to keep moving at all times. The forward motion allows the oxygen rich water to pass into their mouths over their gills and out through the gill slits. If they stop moving forwards, their gills won't work, they won't be able to breath and they will sink to the bottom and die. This system is called "obligate ram ventilation."

Obligate - as in obligatory, as in they need to do it.

Ram - as in forward moving.

Ventilation - as in air.

We've all been at points in our careers when we feel like we have trouble getting air. We're suffocating doing whatever we're doing. What resuscitates  is often something very simple: moving forwards. Sometimes that means getting a new job, sometimes that means taking the bull by the horns with the job we have. But it always means looking much further beyond where we are now and swimming in that direction.

It doesn't matter if we go in a straight line to get there, as long as we're moving. Stop moving, we die. Keep moving, we live. It's that simple.

To keep alive, we need to make decisions. We can't sit around and wait...or we die.

To keep healthy, we need to know where we're going, we need to have a purpose or a cause or a belief, a reason to get out of bed. Without something to swim for...we die.

To innovate, to have ideas, to contribute, we need do things outside our job specs: read books, watch movies, travel, meet new people, do new things. If we do the same thing everyday over and over with no forward momentum....we die.

To make progress, we need to execute, produce something, ship. If we spend all our time trying to make it perfect and never get it out the door...we die.

So the next time someone asks you the secret to a good career, tell them it's simple: obligate ram ventilation.

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The Advantage in Disadvantage

The young artist who was told by their high school math teacher that they were lazy.

The son who was told he’s going to screw up his life because he didn’t want to become an accountant like his dad. 

The employee who was passed over for a raise or a promotion and was, instead, given a growth plan to help them overcome their weaknesses in order to make it to the next level.

Even the disciplines of psychology and psychiatry – almost everything in this world is geared to point out what’s wrong with us.

Customer complaints vastly outnumber compliments in most companies. Most employees complain about what their company does wrong before they rave about what their company does right.  Politicians point out what the other party can’t fix before offering their help to fix it.

It seems no matter where we turn, there is a whole crowd of people ready and willing to tell us what we’re bad at, what we can’t get right and where we’re weak. It’s a wonder anyone of us has any self-esteem left at the end of a day.

But there is huge advantage in disadvantage. The reason others see the failings in us is because they are looking in the wrong place.

Imagine if that the artist’s math teacher realized his student had no natural aptitude for math and, instead of berating her, recommended she take more art classes to develop her natural abilities.

Imagine if the well intentioned father, realizing his son didn’t want to follow in his footsteps, asked him what he did want to do and then did everything to support and nurture the things he wanted to do.

Imagine if a company devoted resources to helping us build on our strengths instead of pushing us to fix our weaknesses.

And imagine if psychologists identified the abnormal advantages we all have instead of labeling the abnormal disadvantages.

Take dyslexia, for example. A lot of really great entrepreneurs, like Richard Branson, are dyslexic. Instead of focusing on what he couldn’t do, he figured out ways around it. He became a brilliant problem solver. A lot of dyslexics are good like that. It’s a huge advantage they have.

Or the kid who is told at a young age that they have ADD – they are told they have a “deficit” and a “disorder.” Why aren’t they told that they have an amazing advantage - hyper-focus, a heightened ability to focus on something and devote an intense amount of energy to solving a problem or building something beyond what most people can do. They have an ability to get done in one day what takes others a week.

I have ADHD and it is one of the single greatest advantages I have. Sure it has it’s drawbacks. It’s harder for me to focus on things that don’t interest me. But all that means is I should focus on doing things that do interest me. I have an abnormal advantage and I feel sorry for all the people who aren’t able to apply intense focus on something like those with ADD or ADHD.

The best teachers are the ones who tell us we can. The best parents tell us we should. The best companies show us what we can do. And the best politicians remind us what’s possible if we work together instead of apart.

May we all discover what about us doesn’t fit the norm and, instead of trying to hide or bury it, work to make that our single greatest advantage.  

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Money Can Buy Happiness

Part 2

We're told all our whole lives that money can't buy happiness. The fact is, that's simply not true. Money can buy happiness. What money can't buy is lasting happiness.  What money can't buy is fulfullment. That takes something else.

Here is the second part of a videoed conversation I had about where fulfillment comes from and how we can find lasting happiness.

 

 

So you don't have to look it up, here is Part 1.

The Pictures You'll Never See

I returned from Afghanistan this week. I went as a guest of the Air Force to experience the remarkable work they do, first hand. "The grand ballet," the Commander of Air Mobility Command calls it. I flew on various types of aircraft on various kinds of missions. I watched an air drop, supplying soldiers on the ground with fuel, water and ammunition. I rode on an aeromedical evacuation as 37 wounded soldiers and marines were brought home, one in critical condition. There was one more mission I would join - one we didn't expect, one we didn't plan on joining. This was the flight that brought home a fallen soldier.

Just the three of us, me and the two Airmen with whom I traveled, were aboard the plane with the crew and the casket. One solitary, flag draped casket strapped to the middle of the cargo bay. The flight was nine and half hours long. We sat in the back staring at the casket for take off and landing. We slept in sleeping bags on the floor of the cargo bay, 10 feet away from the fallen soldier. It was a quiet trip. We didn't talk much. We all kept to ourselves. Now and then, I'd catch myself staring at the box. Now and then, I'd catch myself welling up...and if a tear fell, I'd let it. It was only right. It was an honor to bring him home.

I took a lot of pictures on this trip, but there are no pictures of the two missions that moved me most - the aeromedical evacuation and the HR mission, as it's officially called (HR stands for human remains). If you look at my pictures, you'd think my trip was fun. You'd think that going into a war zone is cool.

It's not.

It's hard.

The work is hard. And the people are hard.

The pictures I wish I could bring home to share, so we can truly understand what war is like, don't exist. I have only my stories...and I will tell those stories whenever I can.

Someone I know at AMC forwarded an email that was sent to them today. It's from the pilot who flew 20 of the soldiers who were killed in the recent Chinook crash back home. I have been given permission to share his email on this blog. Every word is as he wrote it...only his name has been left out.

I don't know who he is but I'd like to thank him for sharing his story. His story doesn't replace the pictures we need to see...but it comes close.

 

I had an unforgettable day yesterday and wanted to share it with you.  I
know we've all sat around and discussed in detail why we do what we do and
if we will be willing to continue to do what we do day in and day out
regardless of deployments, retirement decisions, job opportunities, missed
birthdays, missed holidays, etc.  This is something I wanted to share and
you were the people that came to mind.  It's another reason I continue to
serve.I guess because many others do and sacrifice a lot more, some even
their lives.

My crew was alerted yesterday to find that our mission had changed.   We
were now a backup to a high priority mission originating from Afghanistan.
When I asked where we would be going the answer was "back to the states".
Later I learned our destination was Dover.

I was the aircraft commander for one of two C-17s that transferred the
Chinook helicopter crash soldiers back home.  The crew that started this
mission in Afghanistan would end up running out of crew duty day and need
another crew to continue the soldier's journey.  We just happened to be
available.  After being alerted and going through our normal sequence, I
found myself at the foot of the aircraft steps.

Before I took my first step upward I noticed a transfer case close to the
door.  I had only seen one in pictures.  The American Flag was tucked
smartly, folded and secured on top.  I paused at the bottom of the stairs,
took a deep breath and continued up with my mind and eyes focusing on making it to the next ladder leading to the cockpit.  However, as I entered, I
couldn't help but notice the remaining nineteen transfer cases in the cargo
compartment.  The entire cargo compartment was filled with identical
transfer cases with American Flags.  I made my way up to the cockpit and
received a briefing from the previous aircraft commander.  After the
briefing we exchanged a handshake and the other pilot was on his way.

I felt a need to ensure the crew focused on their normal duties.  I
instructed the other two pilots to began the preflight.  I went back down
into the cargo compartment to see what needed to be done and find the
paperwork I needed to sign.  The cargo compartment was now  filled with
numerous people from the mortuary affairs squadron.  They were busy
adjusting, resetting and overall preparing the cases for their continued
flight.  Before they began I asked who was in charge because I knew there
was paperwork I needed to sign.  I finally found a Staff Sergeant who was
working an issue with the paperwork.   After it was complete, he brought it
up to the cockpit for me to review and sign.

There are moments in life I will never forget.  For me, it's the days my son
and daughter were born.  Another occurred five months ago when I had to
deliver the unthinkable news to a mother that her son was killed in
Afghanistan and although I didn't anticipate another day like that this
soon, yesterday was another.  I looked at the paperwork I was signing and
realized the magnitude of the day.  I glanced over the paperwork and signed.
In a way, I felt I had taken ownership of these fallen soldiers.  It was now
my duty to ensure they make it home.

After confirming the preflight was complete and the aircraft was fueled, I
went outside to start my walk-around.  As I walked down the steps, a bus had parked in front of the aircraft and unloaded eleven passengers.  The
passengers were fellow SEAL team members who were escorting the fallen back to the states.  I stood at the front of the aircraft and watched them board. Every one of them walked off the bus with focus in their eyes and
determination in their steps; just as I imagine they do when they go on a
mission.  I made eye contact with the lead SEAL, nodded my head in respect
and he nodded back.

Finishing my walk-around, I stopped at the bottom of the stairs.  I looked
up into the cargo compartment; two American Flags and one SEAL Team Six flag hung from the top of the cargo compartment.  Three of twenty transfer cases visible; one with an American Flag and two with Afghan flags.  I looked up at my aircraft and saw, "United States Air Force" painted on the side and I stood trying to take it all in.  I wanted to make certain that I never
forget these images.  That I never forget the faces of the SEALS, the smell
of the cargo compartment or the sun slowly rising over the landscape.  It's
important that I don't forget.  We need to honor the dead, honor the
sacrifice of the fallen.

I understand my role in getting these fallen soldiers home is insignificant
compared to the lives they lived and the things they did for our country.
Most of it we will never know.  All I know is every American should see what
I've seen.  Every American should see the bus loads of families as they exit
the freeway headed for Dover AFB to reunite with their fallen or witness the
amount of time, effort, people and equipment that go into ensuring our
fallen have a honorable return.

The very next day we took the same aircraft back overseas.  We had leveled
the aircraft at our cruise altitude and I walked down to the cargo
compartment.  No more American Flags hung from the ceiling.  All the
transfer cases were gone.

Instead I watched a father lay with his son, cradled on his chest, on the
same spot that only yesterday held a fallen soldier.  I watched a young
girl, clutching a teddy bear, sleeping quietly where the fallen had laid.  I
realized so many Americans have no idea where the fallen lay.

I'm honored to be one that does.

 

The Power of Rachel Beckwith

A few days ago, a 9-year-old girl named Rachel Beckwith died in a pileup on I-90 in Washington state. Her spinal chord was severed and there was nothing the doctors could do to save her life.

June 12th was her last birthday and for her birthday Rachel told everyone that she didn't want any presents and she didn't want a party. Instead, she wanted her friends to donate $9 to Charity Water." Her big crazy goal," said her pastor, "was to raise $300 so that 15 kids in Africa would have safe, clean water." At the time of her death, she was $80 short of her goal.

Inspired by her generocity, Rachel's church publicized her goal on their website...and the donations started rolling in.

When last I logged on, Rachel had raised over $300,000. And her wish to help 15 people will now help over 15,000 people.

Rachel Beckwith may be the most inspring 9 year old I know and I'm proud to support her in her dream to give.

If you're interested in helping Rachel's cause, visit Charity Water. 

If you'd like to donate to help her parents pay the medical bills, you can visit http://bobnw.org to donate.

May we all raise our children to think of others before themselves. May we all raise our children to by like Rachel Beckwith.

 

Fulfillment Is A Right, Not A Luxury

Part 1.

The discovery of Why taught me a valuable lesson: fulfillment, that sense of prolonged happiness in our lives, is not a luxury. In fact it is our right.

I am undertaking a little project to write a manifesto - a statement of belief - to help capture this movement that we are a part of. To put into words the world we imagine and a roadmap to get there.

I sat down with some of the folks on my team, people devoted to this cause, to tell them what I'm up to and what I'm thinking. We recorded the conversation and will share it with all those who want to listen.

 

Outside vs Inside

Ah...the spa. A place of serenity, calm and oneness with the universe.  A place where we can go to escape the hustle and bustle and be treated as human beings. A place where looking after your mind, body and spirit is of the utmost importance. Well...for paying customers, anyway.

It turns out that all that Zen idealism doesn't apply to all living things. There’s a high-end spa I know in a major metropolis that doesn’t treat its employees very well. I was talking to one of the massage therapists who is quitting because she can’t take the abuse any more. Apparently her boss manipulates and berates those tasked with pampering their guests.

She told me she became a masseuse because she wanted to give to people, to look after them. She says she can’t do her job properly when she’s constantly holding in her anger or feeling disrespected or disgusted. So she’s leaving to find another job at a spa that practices what it preaches...a place she can feel proud to work.

So many companies are obsessed with trying to be or act “authentically,” when it seems so many don't to know what “authentic” means. Authenticity means that the way we present ourselves to the outside is a perfectly accurate representation of who we really are. That means, the outside world should be able to guess what it would be like to work there based on their experience. In the case of the spa, how they present themselves is clearly not who they are.

For all those companies that preach customer before profit, I hope they are putting employee before profit, too. If a company wants to stand for innovation, to be seen as challenging their customers to think differently, then they need to be open to new ways of doing things inside their company also. If a company wants to be seen as a leader in their category, then they need to stop obsessing about their competition’s every move or wondering “how will they react if we make this decision.” Leaders lead; they don’t worry about what those behind are thinking. And, most importantly, what’s right for the customer must also be right for the employee.

This is not idealism, it's good business. The more the inside and the outside match, the more those on the inside will invest of their own blood, sweat and tears to see the company succeed. This makes it much easier to match the expectations a customer has with the experience they will actually get. And when that happens, when authenticity really exists, loyalty results.

As for the fancy spa in the fancy part of the city? All their best masseuses, those who are trying to be authentic in all they do, are leaving. Profit is down, equipment is broken and the business is coming apart at the seams. So I guess they are being authentic after all. They are starting to look like exactly who they really are. 

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Small Is Special

It was a complete coincidence. My friend Jules Shell happened to be in Paris for a few days while I was there. She is a remarkable human being. She is the co-founder of Foundation Rwanda, an organization that funds the education of children born to the victims of rape during the 1994 Rwandan genocide and links their mothers to psychological & medical services (if you only give to one charity per month, please give to this one next month). Jules and I are always traveling and we never get to see each other, so it was a total treat that we were in the same city at the same time...and that it was Paris was a bonus.

I took Sunday off and spent the day with Jules. We had croissants for breakfast in the gardens of the Palais-Royal, ate the most scrumptious duck confit for lunch, shopped the Marais, licked Berthillon ice cream on Ile St. Louis, had the perfect cup of coffee in a small, secluded square somewhere-we’re-not-sure-where and finally had, what can only be described as, a hilarious dinner in a Japanese restaurant where we drank French wine with our ramen noodles. Twelve hours we spent together that day and it was great. Then last night we went for a late night glass of wine and a crepe in front of the Eiffel Tower. We laughed and laughed the whole time.

This morning I awoke to an email from Jules.

Totally loved our time together. Straight out of a woody Allen film- the most romantic trip ever among friends. Ah Paris... Everyone should go once with Simon Sinek.

I love Jules’s desire to want to share what we had with lots of people so that lots of people can have as much fun as we had. The problem is, if everyone got to go to Paris once with Simon Sinek or Jules Shell, it would no longer be special for the few that do.

There is something special about small. Small is intimate, spontaneous and intense. Small is...well...small is special. If lots of people experience something special, it is no longer small and, in turn, ceases to be special. Good, yes. Fantastic, even. But not special.

The Pacific ocean was special when few people ever got to see it. Now, it's not so special. Chocolate was special when only a few people ate it. Now, it’s not so special (though there is still some special chocolate out there – like Vosges bacon truffles – but very few people have tried them).

If you stumble upon something special, keep it small. Though you may want to share it with lots of people, which is a good thing, remember that in so doing, what originally made it special will quickly dissipate. But if you do choose to share something special with lots of people, then just make sure you always keep another thing available that only a few special people will get to experience. That way there will always be something special about what you do.

This is as true in relationships as it is in business. When we treat people as numbers, they will never feel special. When we treat them as individuals, they will. Sending a mass email to the company isn't special. Roaming the halls and saying hello to everyone is.

The reason humans like feeling special is because feeling special is human.

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You Are Allowed

Most organizations (even society) publish a set of rules to guide how they want their people to act inside the organization. More often than not, most of these rules tell us what not to do. Don't lie. Don't steal. Don't use the copy machine after 8pm. Don't use company resources for personal use.

I think offering a set of rules is a good thing - they help maintain order inside an organziation. Understanding the value of such guidance, I recently issued a set of rules to my team.

But there's a catch. In our organization, there will be no rules to tell us what not to do. Rules that tell us what not to do hold people back. Instead the rules should help push people forward. In our group, the rules consist of a list of the things that are allowed.

It's called the Allowed List, and this is what it says.

You are allowed to:

1.     Make the decision you think is the right decision to make

2.     Start something that needs to be started to help advance the cause

3.     Ask for help whenever you want it

4.     Help others whenever you can (even if they don’t ask for it)

5.     Take time off to do something that inspires, excites and energizes you

Everyone is expected to follow these rules and everyone is expected to hold the others accountable to them. Afterall, if we didn't follow the rules...there'd be chaos.

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You Don't Know What You Don't Know

You don't know what you don't know; never was there a truer sentence ever spoken. The question is, knowing we don't know everything, what's the best way to learn more? 

The answer is ironically obvious: look outside. I'm not talking about some existential vantage point, I mean literally, look outside. Step away from your desk and do something, see something, read something or listen to something that has nothing to do with your work. Do something that has nothing to do with what you know.

Most of us stay in our industry to help us be better at what we do. We read our own industry’s trades, we attend our own industry’s conferences, we talk to others from our industry and we take classes offered by "experts" from the inside. Though we may learn bits and pieces this way, we can never learn to innovate and solve problems or think in new ways like this. To truly think differently, we need to look way outside our own industries. If we see and learn how others solve problems, we can adapt and apply the same lessons to our own work. Read about the Cuban missile crisis and we may learn how to get ourselves out of a sticky situation. Watch a documentary about origami and we may learn to see things a little differently. This is where innovation comes from.

Innovation comes from solving ideas like no one else in our industry…but those ideas have to come from somewhere…somewhere outside.

The Better Claim

“Our standards beat their extras,” read the headline on the brochure. The body copy below elaborated, “the most legroom in coach,” it said.

When I read the claim on the jetBlue in-flight brochure, I, like most people, thought when they said “the most legroom in coach” that they meant that they actually have the most legroom in coach. Until, that is, I read the fine print: “Based on the average fleet-wide seat pitch of U.S. airlines.”  In other words, jetBlue does not, in fact, have the “most” legroom in coach and their standards do not beat others’ extras. More accurately, based on their own legal type, jetBlue beats everyone else’s average. The facts, it seems, render their claim of “most” a bit of an exaggeration. Though the claim may have been “legally” or “technically” true, they are misleading. Manipulative. And this is the problem with absolute claims; they are, at best, rubbish, and, at worst, manipulative.

Sadly, this is not exclusive to jetBlue. It is, in fact, more common than most companies would like to admit. It’s amazing how many businesses claim to be the “best,” offer the “most” or be the “strongest,” when they aren’t. For one, such absolute claims are nearly impossible to verify. The best or the most is a very high standard…the highest, in fact. It means that not a single other company offers a single measurable unit that would make them even the slightest bit better. And even if the claim is true…for most companies it’s unsustainable for very long because competition has a funny way of…well… competing. In other words, claiming you’re best isn’t best…claiming your better, however, is much better.

Firstly, a claim of “better” can in fact be true without any need to slice numbers or make legal disclaimers, which makes them more credible. More importantly, by being better, it suggests that the company is constantly working to improve.  And that’s always better. For example, if I claimed I was the best doctor in the country, you wouldn’t believe me. For one, how can I prove it? In contrast, if I said I was a better doctor than most doctors in the country, not only is it more believable, but I can also say, “and I’m always working to get even better.” If I were the best, there would be no room for improvement. And who wants a doctor who thinks they are the best? Wouldn’t we rather have one who is striving to be better? So why would the companies we do business with be any different?

I know I’ve been beating up on jetBlue lately. I don’t have anything against them, per se. I guess I’m just disappointed how a company that used to be better became a company that is just average but is claiming to be the best. And to convince us they are the “best” they focused on finding numbers or comparisons that let them legally make their claim as opposed to focusing on working on actually being better again.  Now that I think about it, that sounds like a description of most companies today.

Companies that claim to be the best rarely are. Companies that strive to be better, almost always are.

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The Giving Mindset

I am fascinated by airports. There are few, if any, other places you can visit where such a diverse cross section of society comes together in the same place. Young and old, yuppies, hippies, stoners, rednecks -- they all roam the airport in a sort of social Noah’s Ark where at least two of everything is represented.

It is from this diverse pool of the general public that our airline seatmates are plucked. When we're travelling alone, we don’t have a say in choosing our seatmate. It’s just a luck of the draw. At times, that friend-for-the-flight lottery can be quite unnerving. We’ve all sat on the plane watching the menagerie of personalities getting on board, hoping the one we like the look of will sit next to us. Crestfallen as they pass us for a seat two rows behind, we pray that the excessively obese, sweaty gentleman pushing his way down the aisle will not be our five-hour companion, if for no other reason than because we hope to use both armrests and be able to get up to go to the bathroom at least once during the flight.

Sometimes we may be the object of enticement or derision to the person who got to our row before we did. This was the case of my seatmate this week. A middle-aged woman with short salt-and-pepper hair and tortoiseshell glasses sat in the aisle seat next to mine reading her book pretending I didn’t exist as I stood next to her lifting my case into the overhead compartment. I think she was hoping I wouldn’t be sitting next to her because most people look up and politely ask “are you sitting here?” so they can move aside to let me in. She didn’t even look up, let alone speak to me. I actually had to say "excuse me" to her so she could let me in. She was visibly unimpressed.

I smiled knowing that this one person would have a significant influence over my flight experience. She didn’t smile back. Instead, acting like someone had just asked her to prepare for a root canal, she begrudgingly angled her legs to one side so I could squeeze past. I think people who act like this are kind of funny, so it rarely if ever bothers me when I interact with them in life. All that grimacing and sighing they do to make sure I know how I much I am inconveniencing them must be quite stressful (comedic for me, but stressful for them). With each snort and groan, it’s clear they never figured out it’s a lot less stressful to just be nice or accommodating for someone else every now and then. 

Given the experience I just had getting to my seat, I knew what this flight was going to be like. I’d be putting on my headphones, and, for the duration of the trip, we’d ignore each other except when forced to interact. In any other circumstance, there would be no reason to talk about her, let alone write an entire column about her. But something happened early on in the flight that I didn’t expect. It wasn’t so much what she did but how I reacted to what she did that surprised me. This taught me a simple but valuable little lesson.

Once we were at cruising altitude, the flight attendant came down the aisle to ask us if we wanted an omelet or cereal for breakfast. I chose the cereal and so did my seatmate. A few minutes later, the flight attendant returned to say that there was only one cereal left and asked if one of us would mind having the omelet instead. I was about to turn to my seatmate and say, “You have the cereal, I don’t mind having the omelet,” when, before the words even left my mouth she piped up, “I’ll have the cereal.” I actually felt myself getting angry. General politeness dictates at least turning to the other person and offering or asking.

We all know the proverb “the more you give, the more you get.” And we all intellectually know that being a giver is a good thing. But in an instant, I understood what that idea means more clearly than ever before. It’s not the act of giving that matters; it's having a mindset of giving that matters. Is it nice to give to others? Of course. But what engenders rapport with other human animals is when they perceive us as having that giving mindset. This woman I was sitting next to was a taker. She totally lacked the giving mindset, and, as a result, I really dislike her. I was expecting to ignore her and enjoy my flight, but now I can’t help myself looking over at her and giving her looks of pity. I’m actually writing this piece with her sitting next to me, and I’ve made no attempt to angle the screen. I actually hope she’s reading over my shoulder.

If others perceive we have a giving mindset, they are more likely to get what they want in the first place. The net result to this lady was the same. She would have got the cereal had I offered it to her or if she had just taken it. The difference is, in an instant, I don’t like her, don’t trust her and don’t want to help her. All she had to do was to turn to me and say, “Would you mind if I had the cereal,” demonstrating a giving mindset simply by showing concern for my wants or needs, and I’d be lifting her case out of the overhead when we land without her even asking. Now, well, I may or may not. And if I do, it will be more for me, to reinforce that I’m still a giver or as a way to be snarky with her (nothing is worse than when someone we don’t like does something nice for us. I’d be that guy to her).

In either circumstance, even though the act of taking her case down would be one of giving, it wouldn’t be motivated by that giving mindset. The act would not be a true act of generosity or kindness. And the reason it wouldn’t be is not because of me or her but because of how we interacted.

At various times, we all forget that we’re forced to share more than a row on an airplane with a stranger. We’re forced to share highways, subway cars, sidewalks, offices, schools, neighborhoods, cities, and countries with them, too. We all forget that our own happiness is not solely based on how we live our lives; it’s very much influenced by how others live theirs also. How we’re treated impacts how we feel, daily. Even if for selfish reasons we want to go about our business, do our own thing and live our happy lives, then it matters that we do so with a giving mindset. Next time we walk through a door, lets all commit to holding open that extra three seconds longer so the person walking behind doesn’t have to catch the door we let go of. If we are the ones who happily step to the side as we walk toward someone on the sidewalk, instead of expecting them to move, we’ll all get to where we’re going a little faster. None of us will miss our flights or our meetings or whatever else we’re rushing off to if we let that one person trying to merge into our lane during rush hour just slip in. And the next time the airline runs out of cereal, just turn to the person you’re sitting next to and say, “You have it.” After all, we don’t know who that person is and if they can help us with something we want or need later. Who cares if we get exactly what we want if we can take some comfort in that we helped someone else get exactly what they wanted.

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When New Gets Old

On February 11^th, 2000, jetBlue Airways took their inaugural flight. There was much fanfare for the new airline. They were to be different. They flew new aircraft equipped with all leather seats with a TV that offered free, live broadcasts to every passenger. This, along with casual, modern uniforms, younger flight attendants and a desire to be different all contributed to their rise. 

Differentiating based on features and benefits can be effective…just not for very long. In fact, it’s usually a one-trick pony. If it turns out that customers like the features and benefits that one company uses to distinguish itself, then it’s no big surprise that the competition will copy or try to offer a little more.  And thus begins the features and benefits arms race. It’s a game that’s usually started by the new kid on the block who offers customers an alternative to the old. The differentiation that catapults the newbie when they first start offering their “new” features is near impossible to repeat a second or third time. Instead, the game becomes a tit-for-tat series of back and forth comparisons, a steady game of one-upmanship Ping-Pong. And, like all arms races, it quickly gets expensive for the players and tiresome and confusing for the customers. Worse, it does little or nothing to create any significant sense of differentiation.

Over a decade after they entered the market, jetBlue is still advertising their leather seats and free, live television thinking it’s still new. But it’s not. Delta has it. So does Continental. So do many other airlines. And the addition of WiFi onboard is no great differentiator either. Sadly, the more jetBlue talks about these things as new…the more they look…well…old.

Differentiation doesn’t happen at the features and benefits level. Differentiation is a perception, not a calculation, that starts with the reason those benefits were developed in the first place. jetBlue was founded as an airline that believed EVERY passenger deserves a little luxury, not just those at the front of the plane. They were to be to the airline industry what Target is to discount retailing – affordable trend and luxury.

jetBlue’s decision to offer TV and leather seating, casual, cool uniforms and modern branding wasn’t born out of market research and competitive analyses  (the root of features and benefits arms races), it came as a way of bringing to life their vision of what the airline industry should be. Their features were born out of what they believed. This is the root of all real innovation. Innovation is the solutions or ways companies find to bring their vision to life. That it distinguishes them from their competition is a result of innovation, not the reason for it.

For those looking to stand out again, go back in time and understand why the original features and benefits you offered were developed in the first place. What was the original vision that those features and benefits were helping to advance? Ignore what your competition is doing now to one-up you. Stop looking for things that may outdo them and start looking for new ways to outdo yourself. The mere act of doing things to advance a vision of an industry or a world that does not yet exist will ensure that everything you say and do will stand out.  Because everything you say and do will indeed be new.

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Donate Your Birthday

There is something powerful about giving something. There is something even more powerful about doing something small that can result in something big.  Massive even.  Monumental. Capable of changing the world.

Donate your birthday to Charity: Water.

 

The story of charity: water - The 2009 September Campaign Trailer from charity: water on Vimeo.

The Importance Of A Declaration

The uprising we saw in Egypt was nothing short of remarkable. Thousands of people of all ages, of all classes, of various religions and sects came together in pursuit of a common cause: to see the ouster of dictator Hosni Mubarak in favor of democracy.

Those who took part did not do so on religious grounds. They were not chanting slogans denouncing the West or Israel. They spoke up for themselves. They wanted jobs. They wanted freedom of speech. They wanted the opportunity to hope for a brighter future. Even Mubarak’s attempt to introduce violence and agitate the potential for outright civil war was not enough to stop the movement. Egyptians demanded an end to a government that suppressed the human spirit in favor of one that inspired it, and they seem to have achieved what they set out for. But they forgot one vital detail that may make the difference between their ultimate success and continued struggle -- if not failure.

What happened in Egypt, Yemen and Tunisia inspired other people across the Arabian Peninsula and North Africa to rise up against their dictators. And though the movements and direct confrontations in Libya, Bahrain and other states across the region have met with less immediate success and more bloodshed than in Egypt, the movements are limping along. But like Egypt, these uprisings all lack the same essential component to a successful move to democracy -- a declaration. A statement of purpose. A clear, concise and specific written statement of what they want to build.

The "Representatives" of the "united States of America" (as they referred to themselves in 1776) assembled in General Congress to author and declare the reasons they wanted to separate from the dictatorial ways of the British monarchy. This seminal document, the Declaration of Independence, laid out, in clear and certain terms, the reason they wanted an end to the repressive regime under which they lived. They wrote down the ideals of their vision of a nation. This was their cause. This was the purpose of their revolution. This was why they wanted to dissolve the political bands they had with Great Britain.

They stated a reason for their country to exist based on human ideals, and in so doing, gave themselves something to build beyond the results of a regime change. If you read the Declaration of Independence, only after they state why they are doing what they are doing do they go on to list the grievances they had with the king. Each grievance they list demonstrates how the king’s actions and policies directly interfered with their equal standing and God-given right to "life, liberty and the freedom to pursue happiness" for themselves and their families. What we are hearing expressed in the Middle East is a list of legitimate grievances. Their chants often call for the resignation of rulers. They do not, however, often tell a story of an ideal they aim to pursue -- an ideal that all those inspired by the revolution may utter to unite in common cause for something more, not just against someone.

The reason this is a problem comes down to what happens after the dictator is out. Yes, the removal of the despot is important. Yes, all the people's grievances are accurate and worthwhile. Yes, their hearts are in the right place. But what country would they have instead? To say “democracy” is insufficient. Democracy is simply a form of government; it is not a foundation for the existence of a nation. French democracy is different from American democracy. And Japanese democracy is different again. Inspired by the American Revolution, the French articulated an ideological basis for their desire to revolutionize. "Liberté, égalité, fraternité," they said -- freedom, equality and brotherhood. These three ideals were the foundation of the French constitution that came many years after.

The people of the Middle East are demanding reform, democracy and constitutions. But a constitution is not an ideological platform. It is a document that describes the structure of the institutions and protections that aid in the building and preservation of the founding ideology. A constitution is to make permanent the reasons for wanting independence in the first place. Without an ideological foundation -- without a reason to exist -- a constitution offers a route without a destination. Even in the United States, the Constitution was only ratified 11 years after the Declaration of Independence was written.

It was the Declaration that inspired a nation. The Constitution was created to protect and grow what they fought for -- the equality of all men and the preservation and protection of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. So, too, did the French constitution come along only years after the French declared their ideals.

Small companies need a clear and specific vision of why they need to exist before they develop the processes and build the structure to grow. Add some scale, and you get corporations -- organizations filled with process and structure that often lose sight of their founding visions, the very reason their companies were started in the first place. Add some more scale and you get nation states. Groups of people with a common identity, a shared history, shared ideals. The protection of these common ideals is what engenders trust, feelings of security and, ultimately, progress.  

Nationalism is a feeling. A feeling of pride that can inspire people to act. But acting against something can never outlast what is produced by actions in favor something. Working to pull something down may achieve the stated objectives, but what inspires great nations is when people join forces to work to build something up. 

Great leaders do not rally people against a despot; they rally people to pursue a cause, an ideal and a vision of the future that is more noble and more permanent. The ousting of a regime is simply one of the steps necessary to building that vision of the future. The establishment of democracy as the preferred form of government is simply another step chosen to build that founding vision -- to breathe life and stability into the declaration.

I admire and support the courage of the people of the Middle East. And though they all suffer in similar ways at the hands of megalomaniacal dictators, their ideals, the vision they have for themselves and for their nations are different. It is amazing to watch them inspire each other to rise up. But it will be more inspiring when we see them chant, in loud choruses, the foundation upon which they hope to rebuild their nations -- for each nation to declare its independence based on its own vision of a peaceful and just future.

To the people of the Middle East -- to all those who believe in equality and our human rights -- tell us what you stand for in terms that will define you for generations. Tell everyone in clear and specific terms what you imagine, not just what you aim to do, and your ability to get what you imagine will last much longer and be more stable than any single act of deposing a dictator and drafting a constitution.

Before you build your nations, declare your independence.

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Distorting Reality

I went to the supermarket recently. Among many items I bought, I picked up a bottle of olive oil. It wasn't until weeks later that I noticed something quite remarkable. What I bought, what I saw on the shelf as a bottle of olive oil, was not in fact olive oil. I had been duped.

The label on the package had been designed in a way to blend the words "Italian Sunflower" into the background to make them, well, disappear. The words "Extra Virgin Olive Oil," in contrast stood out clearly from the background color. It wasn't until I looked on the back of the package that I saw the truth: "85% sunflower oil - 15% extra virgin olive oil." Only on the back of the package did they refer to their product as "Mediterranean Blend Oil." You can click on all the images below to make them bigger and see what I mean.

        

Technically, all the truthful information was on the package. But it was all presented in a way that seemed to purposefully hide the truth. The company seemed to have taken steps to make it more difficult for me to know what I was getting. This is nothing short of deception.

Why do some companies need to trick us to buy their products? Are their products that bad? Is marketing that hard or that expensive? What are they hiding or overcharging for that they feel the need to lie and deceive?

I started looking for other "technically accurate" packages. I found this one in an airport lounge. I thought I was eating parmesan asiago cheese until a closer inspection revealed I was in fact eating a "Parmesan Asiago style process cheese food" with a "parmesan & asiago-type flavor." If you look really closely at the package, you'll see that they do tell me all the facts. Look next to the word "asiago," you'll be able to see it. It's tiny and hard to read, but it's there: "style." (click on the picture to take a closer look). It's not cheese. It's something in the flavor and style of cheese.

I visited the websites for both companies to try to learn more.

The cheese one was tricky. The manufacturer, Dairyfood USA, Inc, makes no reference to their Glacier Ridge Farms brand or their parmesan & asiago-style flavor cheese food. In fact, they don't make much mention of anything.

As for the maker of the Italian sunflower oil with a hint of olive oil, the manufacturer's site makes no mention of the Pi Oli brand or their Mediterranean blend oil in their list of products.

Makes you wonder, what are they trying to hide?

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Greatness Starts And Ends With Passion

Passion is like bookends to process.

Passion starts things. It inspires us to start a business, take classes or take risks. But without some learning, some structure or some process, that passion can quickly run out of steam or find itself fueling a futile exercise.

Process is what helps us get good at what we're passionate about. It gives us expertise and credibility. It is what gives us the intellectual capacity to solve problems and make advancements. However, if we get stuck in the process, though we can get good at what we do, we can never be great.

Greatness always requires passion.

 

Say What You Are Not What You're Not

“In the United States of America, we don’t practice guilt by association,” said Denis McDonough, deputy national security advisor to President Obama, “we will not stigmatize or demonize entire communities because of the actions of a few.”

 This was part of the statement made by the White House in response to the New York Representative Peter King’s announcement that he would hold Congressional hearings on the radicalization of American Muslims. The problem with McDonough’s comment, though well intentioned, is that it actually communicates the exact opposite of what McDonough is trying to say. The reason is not political, it is a simple inconvenient detail about how our brains absorb information. 

What words do you remember from that opening statement? What ideas stuck with you? For better or for worse, our brains can’t deal in negatives. We can’t tell someone not to think something. “Don’t think of the color yellow,” for example. We can’t do it. Our minds immediately go to the words and not the intention of the words.

 When McDonough tells us America doesn’t “practice guilt by association” or that we will not “stigmatize or demonize,” those are the words we walk away with. Those are the things that we associate to America for no other reason than because his statement told us to.

 Leadership never defines itself, its cause or its vision by what it is not. Great leadership always tells us what it is, where we’re going or who we are. Kennedy didn’t tell us we’re not going to stay on the earth, he told us we’re going to the moon. The founding fathers didn’t define America as a country that would not subjugate, coerce or cause unhappiness. They said the country was founded to guarantee certain unalienable rights among those being life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.  Though the negative statement is technically accurate, it does not inspire. Negative looks backwards and positive looks forward. Vision, if it is to inspire, always looks forward.

 Companies make the same mistake. It is amazing how many businesses define themselves by what they are not instead of who they are.  Too many jump at the opportunity to tell you what they don’t do instead of what they do do. Meet a small creative agency, for example, and ask them what makes them better and they will tell you that they are not subject to the whims of a large holding company. Ask one retailer what makes them superior and they will tell you that they don’t treat their customers like numbers. Words like “don’t,” “aren’t,” “won’t,” “isn't” or “doesn't” do not belong in any statement that is supposed to tell people who you are or what makes you special or different.

 If you want people to go where you’re going, if you want to inspire people, tell them what you believe, not what you don’t believe. Tell them what you do not what you don’t do. Tell them who you are not who you’re not.

 As for Mr. McDonough, if he has to make any more public statements about what America believes, may I suggest this:

 “America believes, first and foremost, that all men are created equal. Whether our differences are based on gender, sexual orientation, race or religion, we see all Americans as equal players in the pursuit and preservation of the American Dream. In fact, we, more than any other nation on the planet, defend the rights of those who may look or sound different or practice a faith unfamiliar to the majority.

 The hearings proposed by Representative Peter King run completely counter to our founding values. We ask of all Muslim Americans who are as offended by the idea of these hearings as we are to come together, stand firm and know that the vast majority of our nation sees you for what you are - just like us. We are all American.”

 Look forward, tell us what you believe and where you want to go and you’ll be amazed how well your positive words will inspire those around you.

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Sacrifice Should Be Worth The Sacrifice

“Sometimes I wish I had your life,” my sister said to me. “You get to travel and meet all these amazing people and do all these amazing things,” she went on.

I interrupted her, “And sometimes I wish I had your life. You have a husband and a family; you get to spend time at home and see your friends.”

The lives we live are a bit of a straight-hair vs. curly-hair thing. We often want what we don’t have. In reality, it’s not about better or worse; it’s just perception.

My sister made certain choices about the life she wanted. Those choices include a steady job, a husband and children. But balance and stability come at a cost. It is harder for her to be spontaneous. It is harder to just up and leave. My sister chose to build a family, and I envy that. 

I chose a different path. I want to do things -- lots of things. I chose to devote my life to sharing a message. To do that, I travel, I meet lots of people and I get to do something I couldn’t have imagined doing. This surreal life, however, comes at a cost. It is harder for me to date or meet someone I could even think about starting a family with; I don’t see my friends as often as I would like and getting to spend time at home is a real treat. I often crave more stability.

On balance, my sister doesn’t want my life. She loves being a mom and loves the life she lives. But just now and then, she would like a little more excitement.

And, on balance, I don’t want my sister’s life. I’m grateful for the opportunities I’ve been given and for all the things I do. Only now and then, I would like the pace to slow down and have a little more predictability.

There is no decision that we can make that doesn’t come with some sort of balance or sacrifice. I accept that my social life suffers for me to focus my energy on the movement -- to inspire people to do the things that inspire them. As momentum grows, as the movement is able to move on its own energy, I will be able to slow down my pace and focus more on my life at home. My sister is the same. As her family grows up and is able to move with its own energy, she will be able to get away, take little vacations and not worry about the kids. It’s all about balance.

I’ve learned that, no matter what path we choose, there is sacrifice. This week, I was in four cities, spoke at five engagements, stayed in four hotels, and took eight flights. That was all between Monday and Friday. But sacrifice is only debilitating or life-sucking if there is no light at the end of the tunnel. Sacrifice is worth it to get the things we want or live the lives we want to live, but those same sacrifices should be relatively short. A few weeks, months or years, but not the majority of our lives.

Any parent who tells their kids that they can’t attend a school play or go to a soccer match because they have to work is kidding themselves. It’s OK to miss a game or two or a performance here and there, but it's not all right to miss the majority of them. Sacrifice is putting up with something we don’t want for the short term because it serves the greater good -- be that social change, as it is in my case, or raising a happy family, as it is in my sister’s case. If the sacrifice has no end or becomes the norm, it’s no longer a sacrifice; it’s a life out of balance. That’s accepting something we don’t want as normal.

This week, I was rushing through an airport on my sixth flight of the week on the way to the fourth city of the week. It was late; I was tired. I thought about missing my flight and just getting on the next flight back to New York -- back home -- instead. I was rationalizing not showing up for an event. I called a friend of mine just to vent. “F*ck this sh*t,” was how I greeted her when she picked up the phone. “It’s not worth it,” I went on. “I’m exhausted. I can’t live a life like this. This is no life. I miss my friends, I want to go out on dates. Sh*t, I just want to spend more than two consecutive nights in my own bed.” I genuinely didn’t care about “the cause.” I was exhausted. 

And then, as if on cue, some guy calls out my name. I turn around, and he walks up to me with his hand outstretched to shake my hand. “I’m a big fan of your work,” he said. I thought we’d met, I thought maybe he’d seen me speak somewhere. But it turned out, he hadn’t. He was a principle in a school and had shown my TEDx video to the teachers and administrators to inspire them, to remind them why they do what they do.

In an instant, I was reminded why I do what I do. This is the impact of the movement we’re all a part of. I was still exhausted. I was still fed up. But because of that one reminder, I was inspired again. In an instant, the sacrifice was worth it. 

When I meet my fans, when I read the notes people send me, when I see the impact I can have on people’s lives, and when my energy is focused on giving to others, it’s worth it. When my sister sees her kids growing up, when she watches her son and daughter do things that amaze the rest of us, when she can see the impact she has in someone’s life, and when her energy is focused on giving to another, it’s worth it.

 

This article originally appeared on askmen.com

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Good Marketing vs. Bad Marketing

Marketing, per se, is neither good nor bad. It is simply the way a company speaks to us. People use their mouths, companies use marketing. It is objective. However, how companies choose to speak to us is another story. And in that case, how they market to us is mostly bad.

 

Good marketing offers us a view of the world.

Bad marketing offers us a product to buy.

 

Good marketing speaks for us.

Bad marketing speaks at us.

 

Good marketing starts with a cause.

Bad marketing starts with a goal.

 

Good marketing drives loyalty.

Bad marketing drives transactions.

 

Good marketing promotes values.

Bad marketing values promotions.

 

Good marketing tells us exactly what a company really thinks.

Bad marketing tells us what the company wants us to think they think.

 

Good marketing seduces.

Bad marketing targets.

 

Good marketing never mentions price.

Bad marketing always mentions price.

 

Good marketing uses the products to help tell a story.

Bad marketing tells stories about products.

 

Good marketing is about us.

Bad marketing is about them.

 

Bad marketing manipulates.

Good marketing inspires.

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Our Priorities Reveal our Values

It has been said that values are the standards by which we set our priorities.  This means we can understand the values of a person or an organization by examining their priorities.

I listened to a presentation given by top executives of a large firm recently. In their presentation, they listed the company’s priorities:

1.     Top line growth

2.     Enhance shareholder value

3.     Focus on global expansion

4.     Enhance customer satisfaction

5.     Our people

I think it’s safe to say, they don’t really value their people. Or at least they don’t put their people before growth. Ironically, the best organizations I’ve ever seen, the ones that are actually more profitable for the long-term, all put people before growth on their list of priorities.

As Lou Gerstner, the man who reinvented IBM, said, "culture is not an aspect of the game. Culture is the game."

So what of other priorities?

If a company says shareholder value is their main priority how do they value customers?

If an executive has their Blackberry at their kid’s ballgame because work it still a priority, then how much does he value the fleeting time he has to watch his kids grow up?

If the urgent always takes priority over the important, then how much do we value the important over the urgent?

If indeed we value things that we are not prioritizing or prioritizing things we do not value as much, then perhaps it is time to realign our priorities. If we value those kinds of things...

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The Side of the Military Most Don't Get To See

“Carry on, carry on,” he would say to all the soldiers who stood at attention as we walked passed. “Carry on, carry on.”

At 6’4”, he’s an imposing figure. A major general in the U.S. Army, he’s one of the ranking officers in charge of the U.S. Strategic Command -- one of the 10 Unified Commands of the United States military. We walked at a brisk pace down the windowless hallways, three or four others trailing behind, including a protocol officer assigned to escort me wherever I went. Here I was, walking next to a two-star general, heading deeper and deeper underground to get a glimpse of the control center that monitors nuclear missiles around the globe -- ours and the bad guys’.

Some of the hallways had huge, solid steel doors left over from the Cold War. One hall had an armed guard who stood at attention as soon as he saw the general coming. “Carry on,” the general said again. When we reached the final doorway, another armed guard stood at attention behind the bulletproof glass as one of the staffers held the metal gate open for us to go in.

The room had been “sanitized” for my visit. The huge screens on the wall displayed slideshows of planes and ships, and an occasional slide said “Welcome, Simon Sinek, author of Start With Why.” All the stations -- at least the ones I could see -- had all their screens turned off. A Wall Street trading desk has 2 or 3 screens per station -- these had 5 or 10 screens per station. I was given a brief tour by the commander of the watch. And then we left.

This was certainly one of the more surreal experiences I’ve had with the military. Every part of it was like a scene out of a movie, but for the fact that this was no movie.

Spending time with the military certainly lends itself to some remarkable experiences, and I’ve been privileged to have had my share. Watching an F-15 take off, seeing an F-22 make a sharp turn right over my head, walking into a large room with a general and watching everyone stand to attention as we walk in. The pomp and circumstance, the tradition, the technology, the courage, the honor, the bravado -- it’s all there. But there is something else I’ve had the honor of experiencing in the time I've spent with the men and women who volunteer to serve our country. There is a side to their job that few of us get to see and is rarely shown in movies: the human side.

Almost without exception, the people I've met, regardless of rank, are some of the most intensely human. They appreciate the value of life more than the rest of us do, and they understand the importance of protecting the organization more than the rest of us do. For example, if I’m speaking at a corporate conference and the subject of career comes up, it’s likely someone will ask, “How do I use your concepts to get a promotion?” But not in the military. They ask, “How should we promote? How do we use your concepts to ensure that we are always promoting the best and the brightest?” Whereas in the private sector people seem more concerned about their own skins, in the military they seem more concerned about the souls with whom they serve.

No matter how tough or what rank, they shake hands while looking you straight in the eye more often than people in the private sector do, and will very often grab your arm as they shake your hand. I have been hugged by more people in uniform than by people in suits. It’s their way of saying thank you if they appreciate your contribution -- and they have no problem showing the human side of themselves.

Getting to see the things I saw definitely goes on my list of “crazy things I’ve done in my life,” but it was what I learned about showing others your "thank you" rather than just saying it. It’s what I learned about caring about those who give rather than looking for more ways to take that I will carry with me. Though their job sometimes (and necessarily) includes killing, make no mistake: those who choose to serve our country care more about life than anyone I’ve ever met.

This article originally appeared on askmen.com

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Your Quality Doesn't Define My Value

During the 1980s, it was all about "hi-fi." All the electronics companies competed on who could produce higher fidelity sound. But then, in an instant, high fidelity sound didn't matter at all. As soon as the mp3 became the music format of choice, the quality standards changed. The mp3 was designed to compress more data into a smaller filesize and, by its very nature, the output offers relatively poor quality sound compared to almost all other digital or analogue formats. But all the big names in audio - Yamaha, Onkyo, Bang & Olufson, all of a sudden abandoned their devotion to the highest fidelity possible and started producing systems that you could stick your iPod in. They may sound good - but they are certainly not as good.

Cameras are the same. Film is as good as it gets. In fact, camera companies compete over which of their digital cameras comes closest to reproducing the quality of film. Megapixels became the name of the game and we were told we all wanted more of them.

Then the makers of mobile phones started adding cameras to our phones and, in an instant, the quality of the picture became less of an issue. Sure they are still making strides to improve the quality of the cameras, but a camera on a cell phone is still far from good. In fact most are pretty bad. But go to any event or any museum and watch how many people, young and old, are taking pictures with their phones.

Companies always ask consumers if we care about quality - sound quality, picture quality or any other quality - and we always say yes. And we think we do. That is, until we don't. Not as much as we thought, anyway.

We will gladly sacrifice high fidelity sound in favor of 1,000 songs in our pockets. We will gladly sacrifice the quality of film or the weight of a good camera to snap a few bad pictures with our phones. Even YouTube is relatively bad quality, but we're ok with it because it's so easy to use.

Companies still think we value the quality and the qualities they think are important. Cellphone manufacturers kept adding more and more buttons and features to their phones because, as they said, that's what their consumers wanted. That was until Apple showed up and gave us less...and it turned out what we told companies we wanted, was not what we wanted.

The "superior quality" that so many companies strive for does indeed make their products better, but value is only achieved when their products make our lives better...and that can often happen with lower quality products.

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When Good Service Goes Bad

I was on a business trip recently and my host was so wonderful. He was polite, he offered to carry my luggage.  He offered me a drink and offered to get me something to eat if I was hungry. What wonderful service.

Sitting in the car, I expressed concern that the weather in New York would cause problems with my flight home. “Don’t worry,” he said, “we’ll get you home.” Then he went on, “we’ve never not gotten someone home, we’ll make sure you get home.” 

I appreciated his optimism but unless he controlled the weather and the airlines, there was nothing he could do to guarantee his promise.

Sometimes, in an effort to offer great customer service, a rep or an agent will say yes to everything, not because the answer is yes, but because they are trying so hard to please. This is not actually good customer service, this is just being nice. Excessively nice. In some cases, they will give answers that they are not qualified to give or make offers they are not qualified to make…all in the name of customer service. And how often do we hear stories of a salesman or account manager making promises to a client without checking with manufacturing or the people who have to do the work to see if the promise is even possible? The result in all these cases is always the same: bad customer service.

Good customer service is not always saying yes and is not promising the customer whatever he or she wants simply because they ask. Good customer service is being honest, never promising what you personally can’t deliver and then going out of your way to provide the best possible option.

What makes good customer service good is the surprise that you were able to provide a better outcome than expected, not the disappointment that you couldn't do what you promised.

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Success Is An Equation

There is no formula for success. Meaning there is no specific quantity of ingredients that, if you mix them together, will make you successful. However, there is an equation for success. 

Talent + Effort + Luck = Success

Winning the lottery, for example, takes all luck, no talent and minimal effort.  The success, if you define success as making money, is real. The money has the same buying power as someone who worked hard for it, but the lottery didn't require much talent or effort and, as a result, is hard to repeat.

There are ball players, for example, who are born with remarkable talent who, with some effort, make it to the big leagues. There are also plenty of players who may not have as much talent but have a remarkable work ethic, put in a remarkable amount of effort and also make it to the big leagues.  One is not more effective than the other, it is just a different balance of the equation. Both probably require some element of luck, however. 

Talent is something you’re born with. Effort is something you apply. And luck is well…just luck. But all three matter for success.

Understanding this equation allows us to rely on our talents in some cases, put in a little extra effort in others and always appreciate the luck that helps along the way.

One Dead Diver

If you want to become a certified scuba diver, they will teach you the importance of always diving with a buddy. Having a dive buddy is much safer than going alone, they will tell you. The reason is obvious; there will be someone there to look out for you if something goes wrong or if you need help.

The whole concept of a dive buddy is not just good for you, it's good for your buddy also. But if you want to become a certified scuba diver, they will teach you something else, also. If something goes wrong and you approach to help but your dive buddy is panicking and flailing about, trying to grab your regulator out of your mouth, they will teach you to back off and wait for him to calm down before you go back in to help. One dead diver, they will tell you, is better than two dead divers.

For better or for worse, the same is true in any partnership. In a business partnership, for example, it is important for both partners to be fully committed to the partnership and be willing to help the other when necessary. But if one partner is constantly panicking and pulling the other partner down, then it may be better to let the partnership die instead of letting the business die.

Better one dead partner than two dead partners...and everyone else you take down with you.

 

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True Friendship

Serious question: Do you know who your friends are? What makes your friends your friends?

Last night I sat on the couch in my apartment with an old friend and we cried together. She is going through a hard time in her career, the same thing I went through five years ago. Fittingly, it was this friend who stood by me as I went through my hard time and now I was doing the same for her. We cried, but not because it was sad; we cried because the more we talked, the more we realized how similar we are, how much our beliefs and values align. The emotional intensity of it all was so overwhelming that we both ended up in tears.

The experience was jarring for me. Not because I minded crying or sharing that kind of experience with a friend. It was jarring because sitting there and feeling what a close friendship is, I realized that a lot of people that I call "good friends" aren’t really good friends at all. I realized how readily I use terms like “good friend” or “close friend” with people I’ll never have this kind of experience with. 

In this age of omniconnectedness, words like “network,” “community” and even “friends” no longer mean what they used to. Networks don’t exist on LinkedIn. A community is not something that happens on a blog or on Twitter. And a friend is more than someone whose online status you check.  A friend is an emotional bond, just like friendship is a human experience. What I've learned is that I've too often confused the weak bonds I have with people I know with the strong bonds I have with friends. This may not seem like a big deal, but it is.

A friend is someone with whom we share deep trust. The strong bond we have with a friend means that person will be there for us no matter what. The reason I made it through my depression a few years ago was because someone was there for me at a time when I could offer nothing in return. The strong bond of friendship is not always a balanced equation; friendship is not always about giving and taking in equal shares. Instead, friendship is grounded in a feeling that you know exactly who will be there for you when you need something, no matter what or when.

There is a difference between vulnerability and telling people everything about yourself. Vulnerability is a feeling. Telling everyone about yourself is just facts and details. The problem is the more we share about ourselves on Facebook, for example, the more we confuse all that information with having others “get to know us.” Someone can look through our pictures, read our comments and opinions and start to think they know who we are, but they don’t. They only know what they see and read. Worse, the feeling they may have toward us is one-sided.

This phenomenon is called a parasocial relationship -- a relationship in which one person knows much more about the other. This is what happens with celebrities. Because we can read about their public lives in the tabloids and hear about what they are doing on TMZ, we think we know them. But we don’t know anything about who they are. In our modern world, however, we are all celebrities and we all live semipublic lives. Others can read about what we’re doing and who we know and what we like. They can start to form bonds with us, but those bonds are one-sided and they are not the basis for real, close friendship. The reality is those people are acquaintances -- a term we rarely hear anymore.

There are lots of people who tell me they are my friend. They seem to act like friends, but they aren’t really friends. I don’t, and probably won't ever, share that kind of deep, strong relationship with them.

I have one business relationship who, when he introduces me to people, introduces me as “my close friend, Simon.” Every time he does so, it makes me uneasy, because we’re not close friends. I’m not sure we’re even friends. Another professional relationship, almost from the day we met, would tell me, “this is the start of a long and close friendship.” He acted like a friend too. He would send me e-mails to say hi, call to chat, and he’d want to hang out when we were in the same city. But when we couldn’t agree on the terms of a formal business relationship, all of a sudden my “new close friend” stopped calling, stopped e-mailing and no longer wanted to spend time with me.

As my life becomes even more public, I meet lots of people and I form genuine friendships with some, but most are just acquaintances or professional relationships. The problem is that there are lots of people who think they know me. They think they are my friends. Yet friendship is too quixotic to be formed by a decision. It’s a feeling more like love. You can’t decide to be friends with someone. You can’t request it. It just happens.

The internet is good at connecting people with common interests. We can easily form weak bonds with people online. And those relationships are good and have real value, but strong bonds, trust and deep friendships require physical interaction -- and lots of it.

The lesson I learned this week is more of a reminder. I have too often confused the weak bonds I have with people I know with the strong bonds I have with people who are my friends. When I run the names of the people I call “good friends” through this new filter, I realize that I don’t have as many good friends as I thought. And that’s not a bad thing, because the ones I do have I value even more.

 

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Fitting In

Have you ever gone to a sporting event and seen someone on the subway wearing the same jersey as you and said, “Hey”? Why’d you do that? Was it simply because they were wearing the same clothes as you?

The most basic human desire is to feel like you belong. Fitting in is important. When we see that someone supports the same team we do, we feel a sort of bond, for no other reason than that we perceive that we share something in common with them.  

Our desire to feel like we belong is so strong that we seek it out. This is what gangs offer a teenager in the inner city. With no strong family unit and no strong school bonds, a young, disenfranchised man or woman will join a gang to feel like a part of something. That sense of belonging is important to us because with a sense of belonging, with a sense that we are surrounded by people who understand us and see the world as we see it, we feel more comfortable. We feel safer. We’re even able to form bonds of trust much easier.

I recently attended Comic Con in New York City. The event, which attracts thousands of comic book, movie, anime, and manga enthusiasts from across the country and around the world, is like a big geek convention. The black sheep of their schools, families and the general population, the ones labeled misfits simply because they are a little too into graphic novels, video games and their characters, all descend upon Comic Con like Mecca.

I’m one of those black sheep. I’m one of those geeks. I love science fiction -- always have. I went to Space Camp as a kid, I have little Boba Fett busts and caricatures on my desk and I can often be heard making obscure references to or quoting lines from Star Wars. I like stories of the classic hero, of good versus evil, the ones in which the good guys wear white and the bad guys wear black… and I love a good sword fight. But I’d never been to a Comic Con before, even though I’d always wanted to.

I have friends who are majorly into the cosplay culture and have urged me to go to a convention for no other reason than to meet others like me. And so I did. I recognize, however, that there is a difference between attending and participating. I understand that to watch from the sidelines does not make you a part of the game. And so I decided that, for my first con, I was gonna go all out. I enlisted the help of a couple of friends -- my friend Miracole, who is pretty big into the cosplay world, hooked me up with an amazing costume and my friend Kendra went to the convention with me.

I went as Snake Eyes from G.I. Joe (the version I grew up with, not the modern movie version). And it was amazing. I couldn’t walk 10 feet without someone wanting to have their picture with me. Throughout the day I heard people calling out, “Hey, Snake Eyes.” Anywhere else I would have been a dork or a misfit, but at Comic Con, dressed in head-to-toe spandex, I felt comfortable. I was with people who liked me for me, for all my idiosyncratic ways.

The experience was more powerful than just a fun day at Comic Con -- this was about human nature. So often in our lives we put ourselves in uncomfortable positions because we think we have to. We go to law school or become accountants because our parents told us it would be good for us, not because we wanted to. We choose one job over another because it pays better, not because we are good fits. We offer a view of ourselves to the outside world based on what we think they want from us, not based on who we really are. We do the things that we hope will gain us acceptance all in search of that comfort, that feeling like we belong. But, ironically, all that twisting and turning actually makes us more uncomfortable.

I used to hide my geekiness. I used to cover it up for fear that others would judge me. I wanted to fit in like anyone else, so I acted the way I thought would gain me most acceptance. But this weekend, at Comic Con, I learned a big lesson. The goal is not to bend or change ourselves so we fit the norm; the goal is to find the group in which we are the norm. No matter who we are, no matter what our values or beliefs, our tastes or proclivities, there is an entire culture or subculture out there just like us. I learned that, instead of expending energy to fit into the group, it’s better to expend energy to find the group in which you fit.

This article originally appeared on askmen.com

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How to Turn A "No" Into A "Yes"

My dear friend Bill Ury recently spoke at a TEDx event about his concept of the third side.

Bill is an anthropologist who set out to find a ways to achieve world peace.  In the process, he learned it was all about how we communicate - more specifically, how we negotiate.  In the process he became one of the most soughtafter negoriators in the world - working for large corporations and governments.  He's been involved in almost every peace negotiation you can think of yet he remains humble and human.

Take time to listen to Bill's talk and support his not-for-profit - Abraham Path.

If you're interested in more from Bill, check out his books: Getting To Yes and Power of A Positive No.

 

How To Measure Success

This journey I’m on is a deeply personal one. When I put words to this thing called the Why, it completely changed the direction of my life. Not a single thing I’m doing these days -- not the speaking, not the book, not even this column -- was a part of any plan. How could they be on a plan? I couldn’t even imagine them. With all that has happened in the past few years, someone asked me a question recently that really made me think: “How will you know when you’re successful?”

I know there’s a difference between being successful and feeling successful. And if you ask me if I feel successful, the honest answer is “not yet.” By most standard measurements, I am enjoying more success now than at any other time in my life, but I still don’t feel successful. This is what makes the question so fantastic. If the goal is to feel successful, what is the measurement we should use to achieve that feeling?

The most common standard measurement is money -- our bank accounts. That’s how so many people measure their success today, so perhaps it works?

I went to an event for high-performing entrepreneurs and the question was asked of the room, “How many of you have achieved your financial goals?” Amazingly, 80% of the room raised their hand. Then the question was asked, “how many of you feel successful?” and 80% of the hands went down. This example alone shows that there is little to no connection between the standard measurement of success and the feeling of success.

I for one have never been motivated by the money. Most years, if you were to ask me how much I make, the genuine answer is that I have no clue. I usually find out the answer to that question once a year, at tax time, when my accountant tells me. And if money were the only measurement, we’d all have a number in our minds that, if we reached it, we’d stop working. And most of us don’t. No matter how much I make, I don’t want to stop working. Money doesn’t help me answer that question.

Some would argue that you’re as successful as the company you keep. Certainly there is a connection between our friends and who we are. James Fowler talked about it a couple of years ago in a piece called “Do Your Friends Make You Fat?” But can we really measure our success based simply on the company we keep? For example, are Vincent Chase’s buddies in the HBO series Entourage successful because they hang out with someone rich and famous? Most of us would say no. Sometimes the opposite happens. Sometimes spending time with someone who is perceived as “successful” can make us feel less successful. The irony is that regardless of how successful we think someone is, we don’t actually know if they feel successful.

Over the past year, I’ve had the opportunity to spend time with people I never imagined even meeting. At two events this week, for example, I shared the stage with The Tipping Point author, Malcolm Gladwell, and David Bach, author of The Automatic Millionaire, respectively. It was so exciting to spend time with them and it was fantastic to get to soak up some of their genius. I cannot dispute that having the opportunity to work with them certainly is an indicator that things are moving in the right direction, but it didn’t make me feel successful. For me, the best thing about spending time with people I admire is the opportunity to ask them questions and learn from them. Though spending time with them doesn’t make me feel successful, their ideas and their thinking absolutely contribute to making my own work better, which, of course, helps me advance. But it doesn’t yet answer the question.

My friend Georgia Hurd is not famous. She’s not rich. And she’s not yet attained the success she desires. She moved to Los Angeles to become an actress and has been working really hard to achieve her dream. She has been through some hard times. Money has been tight. Her work schedule often hurts her social life. But she perseveres. Her work ethic and her drive are amazing. She is so focused on where she wants to go. It is inspiring. After a couple of years of pushing and lots of wondering if it would ever happen, she’s starting to get some momentum. This week alone, she was called in to do a modeling job for American Apparel, she had some fantastic auditions and people are starting to take notice of her. What Georgia has found is momentum. It is that momentum that makes her feel good. It is the momentum that makes her feel successful.

This is my measurement: momentum. That’s what I want to track and measure. Money and the people I meet are stepping stones, indicators that momentum is building -- but it is the momentum that makes me feel good.

Studies show that over 90% of Americans don’t feel fulfilled by their work. Think about that. The vast majority of Americans go home at the end of the day without the feeling of success. I imagine a world in which that statistic is reversed. That most people go to work every day to a job they love and go home at the end of the day feeling fulfilled. That’s the world I’m working to build. My contribution is to share a message that can help make that dream a reality. But only when others join me in this cause; to help spread the message; to build the companies that people love to work for; and to choose jobs based on how the job makes them feel, not simply how much it pays, will this dream become a reality.

I know momentum is building. That, more than any other measurement, makes me feel successful. So what of the original question, “How will you know when you’re successful?” The answer:  When I reach a level of momentum when the movement can advance without me -- then I will feel successful.

 

This piece originally appeared on askmen.com

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To Find The Truth, Look Somewhere Else

So the parable goes, five blind men were shown an elephant and asked what they “saw.”  The first blind man, standing in front of the elephant, carefully examined the trunk.  "It’s a large hosepipe," he reported.  The second blind man, standing at the back of the elephant, examined the tail and reported that it was a brush made up of long, wiry strands.  The third blind man, standing at the side of the elephant said that, without a doubt, what he was standing before was a large leather wall.  The fourth blind man, examining the elephant’s ear said that he believed he was standing before some sort of sailing vessel because of the large, durable sail he could feel.  The fifth blind man, standing at one of the elephant’s legs, was convinced he was standing next to a tree trunk.

When each heard the other report what the object before them was, each blind man argued from their own perspective and their own experience.  And argue they did.  They mocked the intelligence of, and insulted each other.  They called each other fools.  And when they heard each other’s arguments, they would reexamine their own perspectives to prove to themselves that they were right and the others were clearly mad.  After all, the evidence proved it. 

The truth, plainly, cannot be revealed from a single perspective.  The failing of each blind man was not the quality of their own examinations.  It was not a problem of intelligence. The problem was that none of them changed where they stood.  None of them asked to trade spaces with another. None tried to understand the perspective of the others. Worse still, the more heated the debate, the more entrenched they became in their own perspective and the more they saw themselves as the voice of truth.

The saddest part of this little story is that none of them, not a single one, could actually see the truth of what stood plainly before them.  None could see the elephant. They were all completely blind.

It turns out having sight makes us no less blind.  We all only see the world from our own perspectives.  We all assess the “truth” based on our own experiences.  And when we argue, we don’t ask questions, we don’t listen, we don’t seek to understand the reason why someone would so vehemently disagree with us.  Instead we dismiss them as fools and press forward based on our perception.

This polarization of truths is happening in our society right now. Just look at how divided politics has become. Politicans are becomig more and more polarized in their views in an attempt to rally passion in order to get elected. But politicians are a weather vein of our population. The reason politics is becoming more angry, more negative and more polarized is not because of the politicians…it’s because of us.

And don’t blame the media, either. They too only respond to what we demand. They are in business.  Their job is to increase ratings so they can sell more advertising – that’s their business model. As the population becomes more polarized, they will produce more polarized programming and invest in more polarizing personalities that appeal to one of the poles.  The more polarizing programming that exists, the more each end of the spectrum gains more proof, more fodder to reinforce their own, single perspective.

James Fallows, UCSD professor and author of Connected, reports that our media consumption has become intensely polarized.  His data is overwhelming.  The right only watch right leaning news and the left only watch left leaning news.  There is very little cross viewing.  In other words, to prove to ourselves that our side is right, we seek not to see what the other side sees, instead we only want to listen to those who already share our perspective. To reinforce our version of the truth. I mean, “truth.”

For those who understand that something doesn’t feel right, we criticize politics or the media. And for all the influence that politicians and the media have, it is we who must change. If we change, they will follow and not the other way around.

If we want to leave our country in better shape than we found it, if we seek to rebuild our economy, figure out social security, confront the threats of our enemies and once again become a beacon of light to the rest of the world, then it is we that must open our eyes and try to listen, learn and understand what the others can see.  We must all be anthropologists.  We must all set out, not to impose our beliefs on each other, not to beat them with our version of  the truth, but to understand the reasons they have the beliefs they do. We must set out to understand.

If you’re left of center, try to understand the perspective of those on the other side of the spectrum. Don’t get mad.  Don’t insult their intelligence.  Just listen.  Try to understand the perspective from which they are looking at the elephant. 

If you are right of center, try to understand the perspective of those on the other side of the spectrum also.  Don’t get mad.  Don’t insult their intelligence.  Just listen.  Try to understand the perspective from which they are looking at the elephant.

If enough of us do this, we may just see this country for what it is.  A large, majestic animal.  Strong and powerful. America is more than what we see from one or two perspectives. There is much more there that we can't see.  This is more than idealism, this is practical advice.  After all, how will we know what’s best for the elephant if we can’t even see that it is an elephant that is standing before us?

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Look Down From Space

It was a surreal night to say the least. The four of us, two former astronauts, an Air Force Major General and I sat on the front porch sipping single malt scotch and Jeremiah Weed while a huge air force jet was making touch-and-go’s a hundred yards away.  

When in the company of astronauts, the conversation, undoubtedly, turns to space travel. It is an experience so few people in the world have ever had or will ever have the opportunity to try, so the curiosity of the two non-astronauts at the table was bubbling.  It was the two-star general who asked the question that we both needed to know the answer to: “did going to space change you?”

The first astronaut answered.  “It didn’t change me,” he said, “but it reinforced many of the values I already held.” The second astronaut had been on more missions and spent more time in space than her colleague.  “Yes,” she said, “it profoundly changed me. If you didn’t go up a pacifist, odds are pretty good you came back as one.”

This is a common theme among those who have ever had the opportunity to look back at our planet from so far away. Looking down at our little blue world, free from all the noise and hubbub, they can’t help but think: why can’t we all just get along.

This perspective is not unique to astronauts.  We all have the ability to understand more when we step back to look at a situation with a wide-angle lens.  Especially at times when we can see no alternative than to respond with anger, wage “war” with our competition or even just feel like we can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.  In these moments, we need to stop and pretend we are looking at the situation from space.

I remember not getting accepted to an organization I really wanted to join.  I was convinced on my second try I would make it.  But I didn’t.  I felt like I wasn’t worthy.  Then I stopped.  I pulled back.  Would it really have an impact on my life being a part of their organization versus not – sure, some. I would have had the opportunity to do some pretty cool stuff…but it probably won’t limit anything I can do in the future. Then I pulled back even further - I certainly wouldn't lie on my death bed and think my life would have been so much better if I had made it in. In the grand scheme of my life and career, did it really matter?  The answer…not surprisingly…was no.  The best part is, there was another opportunity that I saw only when I was looking down from a high altitude that, when close-in and obsessed with the first thing, I couldn’t see.

Pulling back, physically and philosophically, is an amazing practice. We see things we can never see when in the middle of it.  We see solutions, we see opportunities, we become more realistic and pragmatic and less reactive and reactionary and, best of all, we find calm.

It’s a shame we can’t all go to space to come back with that new perspective...but we can pretend.

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You Shouldn’t Need To Wield A Gun To Get Customer Service

Time Warner Cable is almost universally hated by their customers in New York City.  And for good reason. With a relative monopoly on cable television, there is not much of an incentive for them to offer much more than the minimum.  Yes, there is RCN and there is satellite, but in New York City, satellite is not a great option and you can only get RCN if the building agrees to carry it. 

For years I’ve had issues with my cable TV – my DVR often records entire programs completely pixilated.  My picture will often freeze while I’m watching something live.  And the features it’s supposed to offer, like pausing live TV or rewinding live TV, are great except after I un-pause my program it continues to play without sound.   I’ve gone through three cable boxes, I’ve had multiple cablemen come to my apartment to fix, rewire or attempt to fix the problem.  Each one, and I’m not exaggerating, has told me that whatever the cableman before him did was, and I quote, “idiotic” before he proceeds to do something completely different.  But at the end of the day, nothing really works that much better. Oh yeah, and my internet sucks too. If I’m in a very nostalgic mood it will take me back to the days of a 14.4 dial-up modem…but I’m not that nostalgic that often.

This past week has been a particularly frustrating week. The internet has been so painfully slow.  For the record, I’m not looking to stream HD movies, all I want is for twitter to open in less than 30 seconds.  Or to be able to use Facebook without having to wait a full 60 seconds every time I click on any link.

I have called Time Warner for help in the past. They usually make me plug and unplug things and have me run some diagnostics. Inevitably, they will report to me that my levels are “within the acceptable range” (a level they determine, not me), which means that they can’t (or won’t) help or that the problem lies somewhere else like with my computer or my building. 

But the last time I called them was different.  This time when I called I wasn’t my usually polite, laid-back-I-know-you’re-just-doing-your-job-can-you-help-me-solve-a-problem self.  This time I was mad.  This time I was fed up.  This time I started threatening to end my entire business relationship with them. “I’m gonna get faster internet with you or without you,” I told the agent, “so you can either help me or not, but if you don’t you lose it all – TV, phone and internet and I’m going to Verizon.”

And guess what happened?

They reacted. They were wonderful, in fact.  They escalated my call immediately.  They gave me a specialist who ran me through tests and asked questions no TimeWarner Cable agent has ever asked me.  We were evaluating IP addresses, even. It was amazing.  He was, and I mean this, really great.

My question is, why do I have to hold a proverbial gun to a company’s head before I get a decent level of service.  That's not good customer service.  I got off the phone with a much clearer sense of the problem and how to fix it and it occurred to me that’s how most customer service works.  Only when a company is afraid to lose the business do they act to keep it. 

Customer service is when a company works everyday to keep your business so that they never face a threat of losing it.  It is the difference between a company that acts proactively and a company that simply reacts.  Ultimately, both strategies may work, but the latter – the norm – is painful and stressful for all involved.  Customers don’t want to call and yell and agents don’t want to be yelled at.

I admire companies with the foresight to prevent complaints not the ones with the systems to deal with them.

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The Bruder Principles

Like most optimists, I'm easily excited by the prospect of something good happening. This is a wonderful disposition for staying happy, but it can be treacherous in business. If I get along with someone, I tend to trust them at their word.  Call it naiveté if you want, but I don’t understand why anyone would lie or exaggerate their capabilities.

 

Unfortunately, like most naïve, overly-trusting optimists, this has burned me on more than one occasion in business.  A perfect, and frequent example, is the case when someone, inspired by my work (or at least they say they are), approaches me with an offer to do something. Maybe they want to redesign the website, help boost sales, do some rebranding exercise, implement some better systems or figure out a social networking strategy.  They promise all the things I think I need, they say they are good at all the things I’m bad at, they have lots of time for all the things I have no time for and they have a list of wonderful clients and case studies that demonstrate how perfectly suited they are to help me “achieve my goals.”

 

On more than one occasion, I engaged in a business relationship with these well-intentioned souls and have found myself on the losing side of the equation.  Often the results fall well short of what I expected or hoped for (which is often very different than from what they expected).  For example, when someone said they could completely redo my website, I thought that meant everything, including the store interface.  Turned out, they don’t have much experience with building a really good online store – so everything looked nice, but my store still didn’t work as I hoped. These relationships never end well and I end up shelling out a lot of money and not getting what I thought I was going to get.

 

Since I learned the Bruder Principles, however, I’m proud to say this scenario no longer happens. 

 

Named after Ron Bruder, entrepreneur, philanthropist and my mentor, Bruder taught me a simple technique to ensure that the relationships I engage in offer true value and last for the long term.

 

1. Do a Background Check

Be it an individual or a company, it takes only a few minutes to google them and do a D&B check.  On more than one occasion I’ve discovered that a company was on shaky ground before we worked with them.

2. Slow Down

So many deals, especially between small companies, are done with excitement and optimism driving them. Simply slowing down the process reveals so much. I slowed down a deal that was going too fast and it completely changed the dynamic of the relationship.  The other party became more aggressive, more impatient with me.  They seemed a little too keen to get the contract signed quickly.  Good business relationships should not be built to go fast, they should be built to go far.

3. Start Small

No deal needs to be comprehensive from the start.  A new relationship should start small.  Doing so often reveals true intentions and, more importantly, allows you to test the relationship with less on the line.  Instead of a complete rebranding, for example, start with just a logo and see how it works out. I won't do a big deal with new relationships anymore. They all start small.

4. Don't Work With Anyone in Trouble

Pay close attention to the kinds of things that are causing someone stress. If they seem to be under financial stress, either their business is not doing well or they are having personal money issues, do not engage with them. You cannot have a productive business relationship when someone is panicked about where their next pay check will come from.  (note: there is a difference between not having a lot of money and being stressed about it).

 

These four simple principles have worked so well to protect me and my interests and I won’t do a single deal now without employing all of them.

 

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How To Have A Revolution

 We don't live in times of violent revolutions anymore. In this day and age, they do more harm than good. But that does not mean we don't need a good revolution now and then. The way to make an impact today is not to threaten people, but to look after them.  To show them an alternative. To inspire.

All revolutionaries are independent thinkers.  All revolutionaries envision a world different than the one we live in today.  But today's most effective revolutionaries don't throw molotov cocktails five miles away from a G-8 summit, today's revolutionaries are invited to speak at the G-8 summit.  Today's revolutionaries don't wear Che Guavara t-shirts, they wear Prada shoes.

Today's revolutionaries are young thought leaders who are invited to counsel politicians and generals.  Today's revolutionaries are entrepreneurs who start businesses to build a brighter future not just a bigger bank account.  Today's revolutionaries are not pressured to make quarterly results, they are driven to build strong companies that care for those invested in their cause over those who invested in their business.

Today's revolutionaries look like you and me. They are in our companies. They are in our government. They start businesses. They run schools. They look ahead and say "I believe in a world way better than this one..."

In today's society, there is no need to throw stones to affect change. But we do need change...the only question is who are you inspiring?

VIVA LA REVOLUCION!

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