PART TWO
Lighting the Fire
FIRST TEST
It looked like just another of the many standard e-mail messages that Kathryn was receiving on a regular basis now that she had been on the job for awhile. The subject header—“Customer Opportunity Next Week”—seemed innocuous enough, even positive, especially considering that it came from her acerbic chief engineer, Martin. And the note itself was short. The most damaging ones usually are.
That it was not addressed to anyone in particular, but was sent to the entire executive staff, only belied its incendiary potential:
Just received a call from ASA Manufacturing. They’re interested in reviewing our product to consider a purchase next quarter. JR and I will be going down to meet with them next week. Could be a big opportunity. We’ll be back early Tuesday.
The fact that Martin avoided any mention of the scheduling conflict with the executive retreat only made the situation worse for Kathryn. He had not asked permission to miss the first day and a half of the off-site retreat, either because he didn’t feel the need to do so or because he wanted to avoid having to deal with the issue altogether. Kathryn decided it didn’t matter which was true.
She resisted the temptation to avoid a confrontation with Martin by firing off an e-mail reply. Kathryn decided that this would be her first moment of truth as a CEO, and moments of truth, she knew, are best handled face-to-face.
Kathryn found Martin sitting in his corner office reading e-mail. His back was turned toward the open door, but she didn’t bother knocking.
“Excuse me, Martin.” Kathryn waited for Martin to turn around, which he took his time doing. “I just saw your e-mail about ASA.”
He nodded, and she went on. “That’s great news. But we’ll have to push the appointment back a few days because of the off-site.”
Martin was silent for an awkward moment, then responded without emotion but with his thickest English accent. “I don’t think you understand. This is a potential sales opportunity. You don’t just reschedule ...”
Kathryn interrupted and responded matter-of-factly. “No, I do understand. But I think they’ll still be there next week.”
Not used to being countered directly, Martin became just slightly agitated. “If your concern is about this Napa off-site thing, then I think we may have our priorities confused. We need to be out there selling.”
Kathryn took a breath and smiled to conceal her frustrations. “First of all, I only have one priority at this point: we need to get our act together as a team, or we’re not going to be selling anything.”
Martin said nothing.
After an awkward five seconds, Kathryn finished the conversation. “So, I’ll be seeing you in Napa next week.” She turned to leave, then turned back to face Martin again. “Oh, and if you need any help rescheduling the ASA meeting, let me know. I know Bob Tennyson, the CEO down there. He sits on the Trinity board with me, and he owes me a favor.”
With that, she left the room. Though Martin decided not to push any further for the moment, he was not through fighting.
END RUN
Jeff stopped by Kathryn’s office the next morning and asked her to lunch. She had planned to run an errand during that time, but happily shifted her schedule to accommodate one of her direct reports. The oldest Mexican restaurant in Half Moon Bay was as good a spot as any for a difficult conversation, he thought, because mostly locals ate there.
Before Jeff could broach the topic he wanted to discuss, Kathryn took care of some business of her own. “Jeff, I want to thank you for leading the executive staff meetings these past two weeks. It’s allowed me to sit back and observe.”
He nodded politely to accept her minor but heartfelt gratitude.
She continued. “After next week’s off-site, I’ll take over. But I want you to know that you shouldn’t hold back during the meetings. You should participate as fully as any other staff member.”
Jeff nodded, “Fine. I don’t think that will be a problem.” He paused, then worked up the courage to raise the issue that had provoked the lunch invitation. Straightening his silverware nervously, he began. “Now that you mention the off-site, I’d like to ask you a question.”
“Go ahead.” Kathryn was almost amused by Jeff’s discomfort. And because she had anticipated a question about her run-in with Martin, she was calm and confident.
“Well, yesterday, on the way out of the office, I talked to Martin in the parking lot.” He waited, hoping Kathryn would jump in and move the conversation forward from there. She didn’t, so Jeff continued. “Well, he said something to me about the ASA meeting and the off-site scheduling problem.”
Again Jeff paused, hoping for his new boss to mercifully interrupt. This time she did, but only to prompt him to continue. “Yes?”
Jeff swallowed. “Well, he believes, and frankly I think I agree with him, that a customer meeting is more important than an internal one. And so, if he and JR missed the first day or so of the off-site, I think we would be okay.”
Kathryn chose her words carefully. “Jeff, I understand your opinion, and I’m fine with your disagreeing with me, especially when you tell me face-to-face.”
Jeff was noticeably relieved, for the moment.
“However, I was hired to make this organization work, and right now it doesn’t.”
Jeff looked like he was trying to decide whether to be humbled or angry, so Kathryn clarified. “I’m not trying to criticize what you’ve done so far, because it seems to me that no one cares more about the company than you do.” His ego now assuaged, Kathryn drove the point home. “But from a team standpoint, we are completely broken. And one sales meeting is not going to have a meaningful impact on our future, at least not until we straighten out the leadership problems around here.”
Not knowing Kathryn very well, Jeff decided that any further debate would be fruitless and possibly career-limiting. He nodded as if to say, Okay, I guess it’s your call. The two of them then engaged in small talk and ate one of the fastest lunches in Half Moon Bay history before heading back to the office.
DRAWING THE LINE
The conversation with Jeff had not fazed Kathryn. She had certainly expected some backlash about the Martin incident from her inherited staff. But she didn’t expect it to come from the Chairman.
When he reached her at home that evening, she initially assumed he was calling to give her support.
“I just got off the phone with Jeff,” he announced in a friendly tone.
“So, I guess you heard about my head-butt with Martin.”
Kathryn’s humorous and confident attitude pushed the Chairman into a more serious mood. “Yes, and I’m a little concerned.”
Kathryn was caught off guard. “You are?”
“Look, Kathryn, you know I don’t want to tell you how to go about doing this, but maybe you should try to build a few bridges over there before you start setting any on fire.”
Kathryn let a few moments pass before replying. As surprised as she was by the Chairman’s concerns, she was remarkably calm and shifted into CEO mode immediately. “Okay, what I’m about to say is not meant in any way to be defensive or rude.”
“I know that, Kathryn.”
“Good, because I’m not going to mince my words—not with you.”
“And I appreciate that.”
“You may not after you hear what I have to say.”
He forced a laugh. “Okay, I’m sitting down.”
“First, don’t think that I’m just randomly setting fires to get my kicks. I’ve been watching these people carefully for the past two weeks, and everything I’m doing, and everything I’m about to do, is purposeful and intentional. I didn’t tweak Martin because I felt like it in the moment.”
“I know, it’s just that ...”
Kathryn interrupted politely. “Hear me out. This is important.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“Now, if you knew how to do what I am trying to do, you wouldn’t need me. Am I right?”
“You’re right.”
“You see, I honestly appreciate your concern for the company, and for me, and I know you mean well on both counts. But based on this call, I’d have to say that your good intentions are hurting the company more than helping it.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not understanding you.”
Kathryn went on. “Well, over the past eighteen months, you’ve been fairly active with Jeff and the rest of the team, more so than most board chairmen, and you’ve watched this team spiral further and further into dysfunction and chaos. And now you’ve asked me to help you pull them out of it. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Absolutely. That’s exactly what I want.”
“Then I have a single question for you: Are you prepared for the consequences of letting me do this right? Now don’t answer right away.” She caught him just as the words were coming out of his mouth. “Think about it for a second.”
She let the question sit there before continuing. “This is not going to be easy. Or pretty. Not for the company. Not for the executives. Not for me. And not for you.”
The Chairman remained silent, resisting the temptation to assure her that he was prepared to do whatever she needed.
Kathryn interpreted his silence as permission to continue her pointed lecture. “You’ve probably heard my husband say that a fractured team is just like a broken arm or leg; fixing it is always painful, and sometimes you have to rebreak it to make it heal correctly. And the rebreak hurts a lot more than the initial break, because you have to do it on purpose.”
After another long pause, the Chairman spoke. “Okay, Kathryn, I hear you. Do whatever you have to do. I won’t get in the way.”
Kathryn could tell that he meant it.
Then he asked, “But I do have one final question: How much of this team are you going to have to rebreak?”
“I should know by the end of the month.”
NAPA
Kathryn chose the Napa Valley for the off-site because it was close enough to the office to avoid expensive and time-consuming travel, but just far enough to feel out of town. And regardless of how many times people have been there, it always seems to make them slow down a pace or two.
The hotel where the meeting would take place was a small inn located in the town of Yountville. Kathryn liked it because it was reasonably priced during the off-season and had just one large and comfortable conference room. It was on the second floor, had its own balcony, and overlooked acres of vineyards.
The meeting was to start at 9:00 A.M., which meant that most of the team would have to leave their homes fairly early in the morning to arrive on time. By 8:45, everyone had arrived, checked their luggage at the front desk, and was seated at the conference table. Everyone but Martin, that is.
Though no one said anything about him, the way they were checking their watches suggested they were all wondering whether he would be on time. Even Kathryn seemed a bit nervous.
She didn’t want the first activity of the meeting to be a reprimand of someone for being late. Then, for a split second, she felt a flash of panic, wondering what she would do if he just didn’t show up at all. She couldn’t very well fire him for not coming to a meeting, could she? Did she have that kind of political capital with the board? How valuable is this guy, anyway?
When Martin came through the door at 8:59, Kathryn breathed an inaudible sigh of relief and chastised herself for worrying so much. She took comfort in knowing that she was finally about to begin what she had been waiting to do for almost a month. And as concerned as she was about the attitudes of the people sitting around the table, Kathryn could not deny that moments like this were a big part of why she loved being a leader.
THE SPEECH
Martin took the only remaining chair at the end of the conference table opposite Kathryn. As soon as he sat down, he removed his laptop computer from its case and put it on the table in front of him, leaving it closed for the moment.
Determined not to be distracted, Kathryn smiled at her staff and addressed them calmly and gracefully.
“Good morning, everyone. I’d like to start the day by saying a few words. And this won’t be the last time I say them.” No one knew just how serious Kathryn was about that remark.
“We have a more experienced and talented executive team than any of our competitors. We have more cash than they do. Thanks to Martin and his team, we have better core technology. And we have a more powerful board of directors. Yet in spite of all that, we are behind two of our competitors in terms of both revenue and customer growth. Can anyone here tell me why that is?”
Silence.
Kathryn continued, still as warmly as when she started. “After interviewing with every member of our board and spending time with each of you, and then talking to most of our employees, it is very clear to me what our problem is.” She paused before completing the thought. “We are not functioning as a team. In fact, we are quite dysfunctional.”
A few of the staff members shot glances toward Jeff to see how he would react. He seemed fine, but Kathryn picked up on the tension.
“I’m not saying this to call out Jeff, or anyone else, in particular. It’s just a fact. One that we are going to begin addressing over these next two days. And, yes, I know how ridiculous and unbelievable it feels for you to be out of the office for so many days this month. But by the end of it all, everyone who is still here will understand why this is so important.”
That last comment got everyone’s attention. “That’s right. I want to say right up front that DecisionTech is going to experience some changes during the next few months, and it is very possible that some of us here won’t find the new company to be the kind of place where we want to be. That isn’t a threat or a dramatic device, and I don’t have anyone in particular in mind. It’s just a realistic probability, and it’s nothing to be in denial about. All of us are eminently employable, and it wouldn’t be the end of the world for anyone to leave if that is the right thing for the company—and the team.”
Kathryn stood and went to the white board, careful not to come across as arrogant or condescending. “Let me assure those of you who might be wondering about all of this that everything we are going to be doing is about one thing only: making this company succeed. That’s all. We’re not going to be catching each other falling out of trees.”
A few of her staff members chuckled.
“And we certainly won’t be holding hands, singing songs, or getting naked.”
Even Martin managed a smile while the others laughed out loud.
“I want to assure you that there is only one reason that we are here at this off-site, and at the company: to achieve results. This, in my opinion, is the only true measure of a team, and it will be the focus of everything we do today and as long as I’m here. It is my expectation that next year and the year after that, we will be able to look back on revenue growth, profitability, customer retention, and satisfaction, and if the market is right for it, maybe even an IPO. But I can promise you that none of that will happen if we do not address the issues that are preventing us from acting like a team.”
Kathryn paused to let everyone digest the simplicity of her message, and then continued. “So how do we go about this? Over the years I’ve come to the conclusion that there are five reasons why teams are dysfunctional.”
She then drew a triangle on the white board and divided it with four horizontal lines, creating five separate sections.
Kathryn then turned back to the group. “Over the course of the next two days, we are going to be filling in this model and dealing with each issue one at a time. And you’ll notice immediately that none of this is rocket science. In fact, it will seem remarkably simple on paper. The trick is putting it into practice.”
“Right now I’d like to start with the first dysfunction: absence of trust.” She turned and wrote the phrase at the bottom of the triangle.
The staff members read the words silently, and most of them frowned as if to say, Is that all you’ve got?
Kathryn was used to this and continued. “Trust is the foundation of real teamwork. And so the first dysfunction is a failure on the part of team members to understand and open up to one another. And if that sounds touchy-feely, let me explain, because there is nothing soft about it. It is an absolutely critical part of building a team. In fact, it’s probably the most critical.”
Some of the people in the room were clearly in need of an explanation.
“Great teams do not hold back with one another,” she said. “They are unafraid to air their dirty laundry. They admit their mistakes, their weaknesses, and their concerns without fear of reprisal.”
Most of the staff seemed to be accepting the point, but without a lot of enthusiasm.
Kathryn pushed on. “The fact is, if we don’t trust one another—and it seems to me that we don’t—then we cannot be the kind of team that ultimately achieves results. And so that is where we’re going to focus first.”
PUSHING BACK
The room was silent, until Jan raised her hand.
Kathryn smiled. “I may have been a school teacher once, but you don’t have to raise your hand to talk. Feel free to jump in any time.”
Jan nodded and asked her question. “I’m not trying to be negative or contradictory here, but I’m just wondering why you don’t think we trust each other. Is it possible that you just don’t know us very well yet?”
Kathryn paused to consider the question, wanting to give a thoughtful answer. “Well, my assessment is based on quite a bit of data, Jan. Specific comments from the board, employees, even many of you.”
Jan seemed content with the answer, but Kathryn decided to continue. “But I’d have to say that more than anything I’ve been told by others, I see a trust problem here in the lack of debate that exists during staff meetings and other interactions among this team. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself, because that’s a separate part of the model entirely.”
Nick was not about to let it go. “But that doesn’t always mean there is an absence of trust, does it?” The question was more of a statement than anything else. Everyone in the room, including Martin and Mikey, seemed eager for Kathryn’s response.
“No, not necessarily, I guess.”
Nick was momentarily pleased that his comment was deemed to be correct.
Until Kathryn clarified. “Theoretically, if everyone is completely on the same page and working in lockstep toward the same goals with no sense of confusion, then I suppose a lack of debate might be a good sign.”
More than one of the staff members began to smile sheepishly at the description that certainly did not apply to them. Nick’s satisfaction disappeared.
Kathryn continued to direct her explanation toward him. “But I’d have to say that every effective team I’ve ever observed had a substantial level of debate. Even the most trusting teams mixed it up a lot.” Now she directed a question to the rest of the room. “Why do you suppose there is so little passionate discussion or debate among this group?”
At first no one answered, and Kathryn let them sit in the uncomfortable silence. Then Mikey mumbled something under her breath.
“I’m sorry, Mikey. I didn’t hear you.” Kathryn did her best to conceal her distaste for sarcastic remarks, which she had developed teaching seventh graders.
Mikey clarified, louder now. “There isn’t enough time. I think we’re all too busy to have lengthy debates about minor issues. We’re drowning in work as it is.”
Kathryn sensed that the others might not agree with Mikey, but she wondered if anyone dared challenge her. She was about to do so herself, when Jeff offered tentatively, “I’m not sure I’m with you on that one, Mikey. I don’t think we lack the time to argue. I think we’re just not comfortable challenging each other. And I’m not sure why.”
Mikey responded quickly, if not sharply. “Maybe because our meetings are always too structured and boring.”
The mother in Kathryn wanted to step in and protect Jeff, partly to reward him for having stood up to Mikey. But she decided to let things go.
After a pause, Carlos chimed in gently, but without directing his comments at Mikey, as though the entire group had made the remark. “Now wait a minute, everyone. I agree that meetings have been pretty dull and that the agenda is usually a little too full. But I think we all could have challenged each other more. We certainly don’t all agree on everything.”
Nick spoke up. “I don’t think we agree on anything.”
They all laughed—except Martin, who had opened his laptop and turned it on.
Kathryn joined the livening conversation. “So you don’t agree on most things, and yet you don’t seem willing to admit that you have concerns. Now, I’m no Ph.D. in psychology, but that’s a trust issue if I’ve ever heard one.” A few of the heads in the room actually nodded in agreement with Kathryn, something she appreciated like a starving person given a few morsels of bread.
And then the typing sound began. Martin, now completely checked out of the conversation, was banging away at his keyboard like, well, like a computer programmer. Distracted by the sound, everyone in the room glanced at Martin for a nanosecond. And that was enough to kill whatever momentum the conversation had generated.
Kathryn had both relished this moment and dreaded it from the first staff meeting she had observed. And as much as she wanted to avoid another run-in with Martin, especially so early in the day, she would not let the opportunity pass her by.
ENTERING THE DANGER
The tension in the room began to mount as Kathryn watched Martin type away at the other end of the table. No one really thought she would say anything. But they didn’t know Kathryn very well.
“Excuse me, Martin.”
Martin finished typing and then looked up to acknowledge his boss.
“Are you working on something?” Kathryn’s question was sincere, without even a hint of sarcasm.
The room froze, waiting anxiously for the answer to the question they had been wanting to ask for the past two years.
Martin seemed as though he wasn’t going to respond at all, then said, “I’m taking notes, actually,” and continued typing.
Kathryn remained calm and continued to speak in a measured tone. “I think this is a good time to talk about ground rules for the off-site and for our meetings going forward.”
Martin looked up from his computer, and Kathryn continued, directing her comments to the entire group. “I don’t have a lot of rules when it comes to meetings. But there are a few that I’m a stickler about.”
Everyone waited for her to begin.
“Basically, I want you all to do two things: be present and participate. That means everyone needs to be fully engaged in whatever we’re talking about.”
Even Martin knew when to pull back a little. He asked a question, but in a slightly conciliatory tone that the group was not accustomed to hearing from their chief scientist. “What about when the conversation is not relevant to everyone? Sometimes it seems that we talk about issues that would best be handled off-line. One-on-one.”
“That’s a good point.” Kathryn was reeling Martin in now. “If there is ever a time when that happens, when we think that we’re wasting the group’s time by dealing with issues that should be dealt with outside the meeting, then everyone here should feel free to speak up.”
Martin seemed pleased that she had agreed with him.
Kathryn went on. “But for everything else, I want everyone fully engaged. And while I understand that some people prefer to use a computer rather than a notebook, like you, Martin, I’ve found that it’s just too distracting. It’s easy to imagine the person sitting there checking e-mail or working on something else.”
Mikey decided to come to Martin’s aid, something he didn’t want or need. “Kathryn, with all due respect, you haven’t worked within the high-tech culture, and this is pretty common in software companies. I mean, maybe not in the automotive world, but ...”
Kathryn interrupted politely. “Actually, this is very common in the automotive world. I had the same issue there. It’s more of a behavioral issue than a technological one.”
Jeff nodded and smiled as if to say, Good answer. And with that, Martin closed his laptop and put it in his computer case. More than one of the staff members looked at Kathryn as if she had just talked a bank robber into handing over his gun.
If only the rest of the day would be so easy.
GETTING NAKED
Kathryn knew that she was about to begin a deceptively critical part of the session, one that would give her clues as to how things might unfold during the months ahead. It was no accident that it was the first real exercise on the agenda.
“Before we get into any heavy lifting, let’s start with something that I call personal histories.”
Kathryn explained that everyone would answer five nonintrusive personal questions having to do with their backgrounds, and she ended her instructions with a humorous caveat that even Martin seemed to appreciate. “Remember, I want to hear about your life as a child, but I’m not interested in your inner child.”
One by one the DecisionTech executives answered the questions. Hometown? Number of kids in the family? Interesting childhood hobbies? Biggest challenge growing up? First job?
Almost to a person, every set of answers contained a gem or two that few, if any, of the other executives knew.
Carlos was the oldest of nine kids. Mikey studied ballet at the Juilliard School in New York. Jeff had been a bat-boy for the Boston Red Sox. Martin spent much of his childhood in India. JR has an identical twin brother. Jan was a military brat. During the discussion, Nick even discovered that he had played basketball in high school against the team coached by Kathryn’s husband.
As for Kathryn, her staff seemed most surprised and impressed not by her military training or automotive experience, but by the fact that she had been an All-American volleyball player in college.
It was really quite amazing. After just forty-five minutes of extremely mild personal disclosure, the team seemed tighter and more at ease with each other than at any time during the past year. But Kathryn had been through this enough to know that the euphoria would diminish as soon as the conversation shifted to work.
GOING DEEPER
When the team returned from a short break, it was clear that they had already lost some of the glow from the morning’s session. They spent the next several hours, working through lunch, reviewing their individual behavioral tendencies according to a variety of diagnostic tools that they had completed before coming to Napa. One of these was the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator.
Kathryn was pleasantly surprised that even Martin seemed to be engaged in the discussion. But then again, she reasoned, everyone likes to learn about—and talk about—themselves. Until the criticism comes, that is. And it was about to come.
But Kathryn decided that late afternoon was a bad time to dive into the next phase, given everyone’s energy level. So she gave them a break for a few hours in the afternoon, to check e-mail, exercise, or do whatever else they wanted. Kathryn knew they would be working late that night, and she didn’t want them to get burned out too early.
Martin spent most of the afternoon break reading e-mail in his room. Nick, Jeff, Carlos, and JR played bocce ball on the court next to the hotel, and Kathryn and Jan met in the lobby to talk about budgets. Mikey sat by the pool and read a novel.
When they returned around dinnertime, Kathryn was pleased to see them pick up the conversation where it had ended earlier. By now, everyone had acknowledged their different interpersonal styles at work and discussed the implications of being an introvert versus an extrovert and other similar qualities. They all were definitely loosening up.
People were eating pizza and beer, which made everything seem less threatening. Suddenly, Carlos was teasing Jan for being too anal, while Jeff razzed JR for being unfocused. Even Martin responded well when Nick called him a “raging introvert.” No one at the table was fazed by the good-natured but substantive ribbing, with the exception of Mikey. It wasn’t that she took their teasing badly. Worse yet, no one teased her at all. In fact, they made no comments about her, and unsurprisingly, she made almost none about them.
Kathryn wanted to bring her into the process but decided not to be too aggressive so soon. Things were going well—better than she had expected—and the team seemed willing to talk about some of the dysfunctional behaviors that Kathryn had observed during staff meetings. There was no need to create a controversy on the first night, especially after already having dodged a few bullets with Martin.
But sometimes things cannot be controlled, and Mikey herself opened up the door to her own issues. When Nick remarked to the group that he found the personality descriptions to be amazingly accurate and helpful, Mikey did what she so often did during staff meetings: she rolled her eyes.
Kathryn was just about to call her on her behavior, when Nick beat her to it. “What was that all about?”
Mikey reacted as though she had no idea what he was referring to. “What?”
Nick was mostly teasing her, but he was clearly a little annoyed. “Come on. You rolled your eyes. Did I say something stupid?”
She persisted in feigning ignorance. “No, I didn’t say anything.”
Now Jan jumped in, but gently. “You didn’t have to say anything, Mikey. It was the look on your face.” Jan wanted to defuse the situation by helping Mikey ’fess up without losing face. “Sometimes I think that you don’t even know you’re doing it.”
But Mikey wouldn’t bite, and she was beginning to get ever so slightly defensive. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Nick couldn’t hold back. “Come on. You do it all the time. It’s like you think we’re all idiots.”
Kathryn made a mental note not to have beer brought with dinner next time. But she couldn’t deny being glad that things were coming to the surface. She took a bite of pizza and watched with everyone else, resisting the temptation to make artificial peace.
Out of nowhere, Mikey responded. “Listen, you guys. I’m not into all this psychobabble. I don’t think any of our competitors, who happen to be kicking our asses right now, are sitting around a hotel in Napa talking about where they get their energy or how they see the world.”
The room was caught off guard by the indictment of the entire process, which they seemed to be enjoying, and looked to Kathryn to see how she would respond. But Martin beat her to it.
“Yeah, you’re right.” People were shocked that Martin, who seemed engaged in the process, was defending Mikey—until he completed the punch line of his remark. “They’re probably in Carmel.”
Had anyone else said it, the room would have chuckled. But coming from Martin and directed at Mikey in his dry, sarcastic accent, it made everyone howl. Except, of course, Mikey, who just sat there smiling painfully.
For a moment Kathryn thought her marketing VP would walk out. That might have been better than what she did. For the next ninety minutes, Mikey didn’t say a word, but sat silently as the group continued their discussion.
Eventually, the topic naturally drifted toward more tactical topics related to the business. Jan interrupted the conversation and asked Kathryn, “Are we getting off track here?”
Kathryn shook her head. “No, I think it’s good that we dive into operational issues while we’re talking about behavioral stuff. It gives us a chance to see how we put this into action.”
As happy as Kathryn was by the interaction that was taking place among the rest of the team, she couldn’t overlook the fact that Mikey’s behavior was speaking volumes about her inability to trust her teammates.
POOLSIDE
Kathryn called the session to an end a little after 10:00 P.M., and with the exception of Jan and Nick who had just begun an impromptu budget discussion, the team headed to bed. Mikey and Kathryn’s rooms were near the pool at the small hotel complex, and as they walked to their rooms, Kathryn decided to see if she could make some progress one-on-one.
“You okay?” Kathryn was careful not to be too dramatic or maternal.
“I’m fine.” Mikey wasn’t faking very well.
“I know this is a difficult process, and that you might feel like they were a little tough on you.”
“A little? Listen, I don’t let people make fun of me at home, and I sure as hell don’t want people to do it at work. Those guys have no idea about how to make a company successful.”
Kathryn was almost too confused by the scattershot reply to respond. After a few moments, she said, “Well, we can talk about that tomorrow. I think they need to hear what you think.”
“Oh, I’m not saying anything tomorrow.”
Kathryn tried not to overreact to Mikey’s comment, which she attributed more to her momentary emotions than anything else. “I think you’ll feel better in the morning.”
“No, I’m serious. They aren’t going to hear from me.”
Kathryn decided to let it go for the moment. “Well, get a good night’s sleep.”
They were at their rooms now. Mikey ended the conversation with a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, I will.”
REBOUND
Only Kathryn and Jan were in the conference room when Mikey arrived the next morning. She seemed enthusiastic and unbowed by the previous day’s events, which was a pleasant surprise for Kathryn.
Once the others had arrived, Kathryn kicked off the session with an abbreviated version of the prior day’s speech. “Okay, before we get started, I think it’s good to remember why we are here. We have more cash, more experienced executives, better technology, and more connections than any of our competitors, and yet at least two of them are ahead of us in the market. Our job is to increase revenue, profitability, and customer acquisition and retention and maybe even put ourselves in a position for an IPO. But none of this will happen if we don’t function as a team.”
She paused, surprised at how closely her reports seemed to be listening. It was as if they were hearing it for the first time. “Any questions?”
Instead of just sitting there silently, a number of the staff members shook their heads as if to say, No questions; let’s get started. At least that’s how Kathryn interpreted it.
For the next few hours, the group reviewed the material they had covered the previous day. After an hour or so, Martin and Nick seemed to be losing a little interest, and JR became more distracted each time his cell phone vibrated and went unanswered.
Kathryn decided to address their concerns before they started talking among themselves. “I know that you’re all probably starting to wonder, ‘Didn’t we do this yesterday?’ And I realize it’s repetitive. But this stuff won’t stick unless we understand how to apply it completely.”
For another hour, the group discussed the implications of their various style preferences and the collective opportunities and challenges that those styles created. Mikey made few comments, and whenever she did speak, the flow of conversation seemed to slow dramatically. Martin too said little, but seemed to be paying attention and following the conversation nonetheless.
By midmorning, they had completed their review of interpersonal styles and team behaviors. And then, with less than an hour until lunch, Kathryn decided to introduce the most important exercise of the day, one that she would look back on later as a moment of truth for Mikey and the rest of the team.
AWARENESS
Walking back to the white board, Kathryn explained, “Remember, teamwork begins by building trust. And the only way to do that is to overcome our need for invulnerability.” She wrote the word invulnerability next to trust on the white board.
Then she continued. “And so, we are all going to demonstrate vulnerability this morning in a low-risk but relevant way.”
She then asked everyone to spend five minutes deciding what they believed were their single biggest strength and weakness in terms of their contribution to DecisionTech’s success or failure. “I don’t want you to give me some generic weakness, and I don’t want you glossing over your strengths because you’re too modest or embarrassed to tell us what you think you’re really good at. Take this simple exercise seriously, and be willing to put yourself out there.”
When it was clear that everyone had finished jotting down their notes, Kathryn began the discussion. “Okay, I’ll go first.” She looked at her notes briefly. “I think my biggest strength, at least the strength that will have the biggest impact on our success, is my ability to see through fluffy, superfluous information and cut to the point that matters. I have a way of eliminating unnecessary details and getting to the heart of an issue, and that should save us a lot of time.”
She paused before continuing. “My weakness is that I am not the world’s best external spokesperson. In fact, I’m bad at it. I tend to downplay the importance of public relations, and I’m not a talented or tactful speaker when it comes to being in front of a large group or, even worse, a television camera. I’m going to need help with that if we are going to accomplish everything that we hope to.”
With the exception of JR and Mikey, everyone was taking notes as Kathryn spoke. She liked that. “Okay, who wants to go next?”
No one volunteered immediately. Everyone was looking around—some hoping that one of their peers would volunteer, others seeming to ask permission to step forward.
Finally, Nick broke the ice. “I’ll go. Okay, let’s see.” He reviewed his notes. “My biggest strength is my lack of fear when it comes to negotiation and management of outside companies, whether they’re partners, vendors, or competitors. I don’t have any problem pushing them to do more than they want to do. My biggest weakness, however, is that I sometimes come across as arrogant.”
A few of Nick’s peers laughed a little nervously.
He smiled and continued. “Yes, I’ve had that problem since I was in college, and probably before. I can be sarcastic and even rude at times, and sometimes I come across sounding like I think I’m smarter than everyone else. And that might be okay, I suppose, if I’m dealing with a vendor, but with you guys, it could probably piss you off a little, which I don’t think is going to help us get where we want to go.”
Jeff commented, “It sounds like your strength and weakness are rooted in the same things.”
Martin, to everyone’s surprise, voiced his agreement. “Isn’t that usually the case?”
Heads around the table nodded.
Kathryn was impressed by the apparent honesty of Nick’s remarks and the willingness of the other staff members to make comments. She was glad he went first. “Good. That was exactly the kind of thing I’m looking for. Who’s next?”
Jan volunteered and talked about her management skills and attention to detail as strengths, something everyone agreed with immediately. Then she admitted being more conservative about finances than the CFO of a start-up should be. She explained that this was a result of her training at larger companies and her concern that her peers were not concerned enough about managing expenses. “Still, I am probably making it harder for you all to meet me halfway by being so controlling.”
Carlos assured her that the rest of the group could probably take a step or two in her direction.
Jeff went next. He struggled in his attempt to call out his amazing networking skills and ability to build partnerships with investors and partners.
But Jan wouldn’t let him off the hook. “Come on now, Jeff. If we’ve done one thing well, it’s been raising boat-loads of money and getting investors excited about the company. Don’t downplay your role in that.”
Jeff reluctantly accepted her kind-hearted rebuke, and then blew everyone away with his admission of weakness. “I am pretty afraid to fail. And so I tend to over-engineer things and do them myself. I don’t like to tell other people what to do, which, ironically, only makes it more likely that I’m going to fail.”
For the slightest moment, Jeff seemed to fight back emotions and then recovered instantly. He was sure no one noticed. “And I think that’s probably the biggest reason that we haven’t succeeded, and that I’m not the CEO anymore.” He paused, and then added quickly, “Which I’m okay with, really. In fact, I’m pretty happy to be out of that job.”
The group laughed in a supportive way.
Kathryn couldn’t believe that the first three people to step forward had done so well. For a moment, she began to entertain hopes that the momentum would continue and the day would be a runaway hit. And then Mikey spoke.
“Okay, I’ll go next.” Unlike her peers who had gone before her, Mikey looked at her notes almost the entire time that she talked. “My biggest strength is my understanding of the technology market and how to communicate with analysts and the media. My biggest weakness is my poor financial skills.”
Silence. No comments. No questions. Nothing.
Like Kathryn, most everyone in the room was torn between two emotions: relief that Mikey was finished, and disappointment at the shallow nature of her response. At that moment, Kathryn didn’t feel that it would be right to force her vice president of marketing to be more vulnerable. Mikey had to do it herself.
With every second that went by, the group quietly begged for someone to break the silence. Carlos put them out of their misery.
“Okay, I’ll go next.” Doing his best to bring the quality of the conversation back to a higher level, he talked about his follow-through as a strength and his failure to update people on his progress as a weakness.
After he finished, Jan jumped in. “Carlos, I think you missed on both of your answers.” Kathryn, not knowing that Carlos and Jan had become fairly close, was surprised by the directness of her remark.
Jan continued. “First, as thorough as you are, your willingness to do the shit work and not complain is your strength. I know that sounds terrible, but I don’t know what would happen around here if you weren’t bailing us out all the time.” A number of the others voiced their agreement. “And on the negative side, I think you could tell us what you’re thinking more during meetings. You hold back too much.”
Everyone seemed to wait to see how Carlos would respond, but he just nodded his head and took a note. “Okay.”
JR volunteered to go next and brought the room to a roar when he explained, “Clearly, my biggest strength is my follow-through and attention to detail.” The group enjoyed the laughter for a few minutes, until JR continued. “Seriously, I’m pretty good at building strong personal relationships with customers. In fact, I’m really good at that.” He said it modestly enough for everyone to appreciate. “On the downside, if I don’t think something is terribly important, which usually means it isn’t going to get me closer to closing a deal, I can sometimes blow it off.”
“Sometimes?” asked Nick. The room howled again.
JR blushed. “I know, I know. I just can’t seem to get around to my to-do list. I don’t know why. But I think that hurts the team.”
Martin was the only remaining executive. “Okay, I think I’m next.” He took a deep breath. “I hate talking about myself this way, but if I have to, I’d say that I’m good at solving problems, doing analysis—stuff like that. What I’m not so good at is communicating with human beings.” He stopped. “I mean, it’s not that I can’t do it, but I really prefer people who aren’t sensitive. I like to have conversations with people on a purely intellectual level and not have to worry about what they’re feeling or anything like that. Does that make sense?”
“Sure,” said Jeff, who decided to take a risk. “The problem is that it can sometimes make people think you don’t like them. That they’re a waste of your time.”
Martin seemed visibly disappointed by Jeff’s remark. “No, that’s not it at all. I mean, that’s not what I intend. Crap. That’s bad. I don’t mean that at all, but I suppose I can see how it comes across that way. I don’t know how to change that.”
For the first time all morning, Mikey chimed in, smiling. “Years of psychotherapy, my friend. And even then, you probably wouldn’t be able to change it. You’re just an arrogant s.o.b. But then again, isn’t every CTO in the Valley?”
Mikey laughed. No one else did, with the exception of Martin, who seemed embarrassed by her remark and wanted to add to its sense of being humorous. Inside, he was melting.
Kathryn would later kick herself for not calling Mikey on her remark, which at the time Kathryn attributed to her astonishingly low emotional intelligence. Whatever the case, it was clear to her now that Mikey’s behavior was having a very real impact on the rest of the group.
EGO
When everyone had found their seats around the table, Kathryn announced the change in direction. “Okay, we’re going to move all the way to the final dysfunction, but we’ll be revisiting the fear-of-vulnerability topic and the need for trust many, many times again over the course of the next month. If anyone isn’t looking forward to that, you’d better brace yourself.”
Everyone assumed she was talking to Mikey. None of them could have guessed that another member of the team was struggling as much as she was.
Kathryn described the next dysfunction by going to the white board and writing the phrase inattention to results at the top of the triangle.
“We are going to the top of the chart now to talk about the ultimate dysfunction: the tendency of team members to seek out individual recognition and attention at the expense of results. And I’m referring to collective results—the goals of the entire team.”
Nick asked, “Is this about ego?”
“Well, I suppose that’s part of it,” agreed Kathryn. “But I’m not saying that there’s no place for ego on a team. The key is to make the collective ego greater than the individual ones.”
“I’m not sure I understand what this has to do with results,” Jeff remarked.
“Well, when everyone is focused on results and using those to define success, it is difficult for ego to get out of hand. No matter how good an individual on the team might be feeling about his or her situation, if the team loses, everyone loses.”
Kathryn could see that a few of her reports were not quite with her yet, so she took another approach. “I told you yesterday that my husband is a basketball coach at St. Jude’s High School in San Mateo.”
“He’s a damn good basketball coach,” explained Nick. “He’s been getting job offers from colleges since I was in high school, and every year he turns them down. He’s a legend.”
Kathryn was proud of her husband and enjoyed Nick’s commentary. “Yeah, I suppose he is something of an anomaly, and he’s certainly good at what he does. Anyway, he is all about the team. And as good as his teams are, few of his kids play ball at big colleges because, frankly, they’re not all that talented. They win because they play team basketball, and that usually allows them to beat bigger, faster, more talented groups of players.”
Nick was nodding his head with the certainty of someone who had lost to St. Jude’s many times.
“Well, every once in a while, Ken, that’s my husband, gets a player on his team who doesn’t really care about results. Or at least not the results of the team. I remember a kid a few years ago who was interested only in his own statistics and whether he received individual recognition: All-League, picture in the paper, that sort of stuff. If the team lost, he would be in a good mood as long as he was getting his points. And even when the team won, he would be unhappy if he didn’t score enough.”
Jan was curious. “What did your husband do about him?”
Kathryn smiled, eager to tell them more about Ken. “That’s the interesting thing. This kid was without a doubt one of the most talented players on the team. But Ken benched him. The team played better without him, and he eventually quit.”
“Harsh,” remarked JR.
“Yeah, but he came out the next year with a very different attitude, and went on to play for Saint Mary’s College after he graduated. He’ll tell you now that it was the most important year of his life.”
Jan was still curious. “Do you think most people like that can change?”
Kathryn didn’t hesitate. “No. For every kid like that one, there are ten who never made it.” The group seemed sobered by the definitive response, and more than one of them were thinking about Mikey at that moment. “And as harsh as that may sound, Ken always says that his job is to create the best team possible, not to shepherd the careers of individual athletes. And that’s how I look at my job.”
Jeff decided to ask the group a question. “Anyone here play team sports in high school or college?”
Kathryn wanted to stop Jeff’s poll and keep the discussion moving in the direction she had planned. But she decided that a little impromptu discussion was probably as valuable for the team as anything else, as long as it had something to do with teamwork.
Jeff went around the room, giving every person a chance to respond to his question.
Nick reported that he had played baseball in college. Carlos was a linebacker in high school.
Martin proudly announced, “I played football, the original kind.” Everyone chuckled at their European colleague.
Mikey said she ran track in high school.
When Nick questioned her, “But that’s an individual ... ,” she interrupted him cleverly, “I ran on the relay team.”
Kathryn reminded everyone that she was a volleyball player.
Jan reported that she was a cheerleader and a member of the dance team. “And if anyone here says those aren’t teams, I’m going to cut your budget in half.”
They laughed.
Jeff confessed his lack of athletic aptitude. “You see, I don’t understand why everyone thinks sports is the only way to learn about teamwork. I never played sports much, even as a kid. But I was in a band in high school and college, and I think I figured out the team thing from that.”
Kathryn saw an opportunity to regain control of the discussion. “Aha. That’s a good point. First of all, you can definitely learn teamwork from lots of different activities, pretty much anything that involves a group of people working together. But there is a reason that sports are so prevalent when it comes to teams.” The seventh-grade teacher in Kathryn suddenly emerged, wanting to give her pupils a chance to answer her next question themselves. “Does anyone know what that is?”
Like so many times in her classroom, the group seemed to have no clue. But Kathryn knew that if she could tolerate the silence for a moment, soon enough someone would come up with the answer. This time it was Martin.
“The score.” As usual, Martin provided little context for his answer.
“Explain,” commanded Kathryn, just as she would have done with one of her students.
“Well, in most sports, there is a clear score at the end of the game that determines whether you succeeded or failed. There is little room for ambiguity, which means there is little room for ...” He paused to find the right words. “... for subjective, interpretive, ego-driven success, if you know what I mean.”
Heads around the room nodded to say that everyone did.
“Wait a second,” demanded JR. “Are you telling me that athletes don’t have egos?”
Martin seemed at a loss, so Kathryn jumped in. “They have huge egos. But great athletes’ egos are usually tied to a clear result: winning. They just want to win. More than making the All-Star team, more than getting their picture on a box of Wheaties, and yes, more than making money.”
“I’m not sure there are many of those kinds of teams around anymore, at least not in professional sports,” declared Nick.
Kathryn smiled. “And that’s the beauty. The teams that figure it out have a bigger advantage than ever before because most of their competitors are just a bunch of individuals looking out for themselves.”
Mikey was looking a little bored. “What does this have to do with a software company?”
Again, Mikey brought the conversation to a halt. But Kathryn wanted to encourage her in any way she could, though she was already starting to doubt the likelihood of turning her around. “Another good question. This has everything to do with us. You see, we are going to make our collective results as important as the score at a football game. We aren’t going to leave any room for interpretation when it comes to our success, because that only creates the opportunity for individual ego to sneak in.”
“Don’t we already have a scoreboard?” Mikey persisted.
“You’re talking about profit?” asked Kathryn.
Mikey nodded and made a face as if to say, What else?
Kathryn continued, patiently. “Certainly profit is a big part of it. But I’m talking more about near-term results. If you let profit be your only guide to results, you won’t be able to know how the team is doing until the season is almost over.”
“Now I’m confused,” admitted Carlos. “Isn’t profit the only score that matters?”
Kathryn smiled. “Yeah, I’m starting to get a little too academic here. So let me make this simple. Our job is to make the results that we need to achieve so clear to everyone in this room that no one would even consider doing something purely to enhance his or her individual status or ego. Because that would diminish our ability to achieve our collective goals. We would all lose.”
Something seemed to be catching on just slightly, so Kathryn pushed forward. “The key, of course, is to define our goals, our results, in a way that is simple enough to grasp easily, and specific enough to be actionable. Profit is not actionable enough. It needs to be more closely related to what we do on a daily basis. And to that end, let’s see if we can come up with something right now.”
GOALS
Kathryn then broke everyone into groups of two or three and asked each group to propose a list of results categories that might serve as the team’s scoreboard. “Don’t quantify any of this yet; just create the categories.”
Within the hour, the group had generated more than fifteen different kinds of results categories. By combining some and eliminating others, they narrowed them to seven: revenue, expenses, new customer acquisition, current customer satisfaction, employee retention, market awareness, and product quality. They also decided that these should be measured monthly, because waiting a full quarter to track results didn’t give them enough opportunities to detect problems and alter activities sufficiently.
Unfortunately, now that the discussion was turning back toward the business, some of the levity in the room seemed to evaporate. As usual, it would be replaced by criticism.
Martin began. “I’m sorry, but this is nothing new, Kathryn. Those are pretty much the same metrics that we’ve been using for the past nine months.”
It felt as if part of Kathryn’s credibility was diminishing right before their eyes.
JR piled on. “Yeah, and none of it has helped us drive revenue. Frankly, I’m not sure any of these matter if we don’t get a few deals closed, and fast.”
Kathryn was almost amused at the predictability of what was unfolding before her. As soon as the reality of business problems is reintroduced to a situation like this one, she thought, people revert back to the behaviors that put them in the difficult situation in the first place. But she was ready.
“Okay, Martin. Can you tell me what our market awareness goal for last quarter was?”
Mikey corrected her boss. “We call it public relations activity.”
“Okay, fine.” She turned back to Martin. “Can you tell me exactly what the PR goal was?”
“No. But I’m sure that Mikey can. I can tell you what our product development dates are, though.”
“Okay. Then just tell me how we did in terms of public relations activity?” She directed the question at Martin again, making it clear that he ought to know the answer.
He seemed puzzled. “Hell, I don’t know. I assume that Jeff and Mikey talk about that stuff. But I’m also assuming that we didn’t do very well, given our sales numbers.”
Mikey was remarkably calm, which only made her subsequent remarks all the more unpleasant. “Listen, I came to the meetings every week with my PR numbers, but no one ever asked about them. And besides, I can’t get us any press if we don’t sell anything.”
Though JR should have been more upset than anyone by the remark, Martin was the one to respond. And he did so sarcastically. “That’s funny. I always thought that the purpose of marketing was to drive sales. I guess I’ve had that backward.”
Almost as though she hadn’t heard Martin’s remark, Mikey continued to defend herself. “I can tell you that the problems we’re having are not due to marketing. In fact, I think my department has done remarkably well given what we’ve had to work with.”
Carlos wanted to say but your department cannot be doing well because the company is failing and if the company is failing then we are all failing and there is no way that we can justify the performance of our own departments ... But he didn’t want to push Mikey any harder, sensing that his colleague might snap under the pressure, and so he let it go.
As frustrated as everyone was at that moment, Kathryn was sure that a much-needed melee was about to ensue. But just like that, the conversation came to a halt. And died.
So this is how it works, she thought to herself.
DEEP TISSUE
Kathryn was determined not to lose the momentum.
“Okay, I think I see the underlying problem.”
Jeff smiled and responded sarcastically, but in a nice way. “Really?”
Kathryn laughed. “Pretty observant of me, huh? Anyway, when I talk about focusing on results instead of individual recognition, I’m talking about everyone adopting a set of common goals and measurements, and then actually using them to make collective decisions on a daily basis.”
Seeing that they weren’t going to cede the obvious point easily, Kathryn decided to shift back toward a more questioning approach. “How often did you all talk about moving resources from one department to another in the middle of the quarter in order to make sure that you could achieve a goal that was in jeopardy?”
The looks on their faces said Never.
“And how disciplined were you during meetings about reviewing the goals in detail and drilling down on why they were or weren’t being met?” She already knew the answer.
Jeff explained. “I have to say that I just considered it Mikey’s job to do marketing, Martin’s to develop products, JR’s to make sales. I would pitch in whenever I could, but otherwise, I let them be accountable for their own areas. And I dealt with their issues on a one-on-one basis whenever I could.”
Kathryn went back to the sports analogy, hoping this would get through to them. “Okay, imagine a basketball coach in the locker room at half-time. He calls the team’s center into his office to talk with him one-on-one about the first half, and then he does the same with the point guard, the shooting guard, the small forward, and the power forward, without any of them knowing what everyone else was talking about. That’s not a team. It’s a collection of individuals.”
And it was clear to everyone in the room that this was exactly what the DecisionTech executive staff was.
Kathryn was smiling in disbelief, as if to say, I can’t believe that I have to tell you this. In a more patient tone, she said, “All of you, every one of you, are responsible for sales. Not just JR. All of you are responsible for marketing. Not just Mikey. All of you are responsible for product development, customer service, and finance. Does that make sense?”
Confronted by the simplicity and truth of Kathryn’s plea, and their obvious inadequacies as a group, any illusions of unity that had survived the first day and a half now appeared to be gone.
Nick was shaking his head and then spoke, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. “You know, I just wonder whether we have the right people sitting at this table. Maybe we need more heavy hitters who can get us into the right accounts, and develop the right strategic partnerships.”
JR was not happy about the passive attack on sales. But as usual, he didn’t respond.
Kathryn did. “Have you guys looked at your competitors’ web sites?” A few of them nodded, not knowing what she was getting at. “Do you know the track records of the people who are running those companies?” Blank looks on their faces. “Exactly. They don’t have heavy hitters on their teams. Why do you think that they are making more progress than you are?”
Jeff gave a half-hearted explanation. “Well, Wired Vineyard lined up a partnership with Hewlett-Packard right out of the gate. And Telecart is getting most of its revenue from professional services at this point.”
Kathryn seemed unconvinced. “And? What’s stopping you from forming a partnership or adjusting your business plan like they did?”
Jan raised her hand to speak but didn’t wait for Kathryn to acknowledge her. “Don’t take this wrong, Kathryn. But could you start saying us and we instead of you? You’re the CEO, and you’re part of our team now.”
The room stopped, waiting to see how Kathryn would handle the pointed comment. She looked down into her lap, as if she were trying to decide how to respond, and then looked back up. “You’re right, Jan. I’m not a consultant here. Thanks for calling me on it. I guess I just don’t feel like I’m part of the group yet.”
“Join the club.”
Jan’s response caught everyone off guard.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Nick.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t feel connected to what’s going on outside of finance. Sometimes I feel like a consultant myself. At other companies where I’ve worked I’ve always been more involved in sales and operations, and right now, I feel isolated in my own area.”
Carlos agreed with her. “Yeah, it does seem like we don’t really have the same goals in mind when we’re at staff meetings. It almost feels like we’re all lobbying for more resources for our departments, or trying to avoid getting involved in anything outside our own areas.”
It was hard for anyone to argue with Carlos’s logic. He continued, “And you guys think I’m such a prince for volunteering, but that’s how everyone works at most of the companies I’ve worked for.”
Kathryn was relieved to see that a few of the people on the team were breaking through, which is why she was so blindsided by the reaction to her next remark. “The politics around here are astounding, and they’re a result of everyone being far too ambiguous about what we’re all trying to accomplish, and that makes it easy to focus on individual success.”
Nick was frowning now. “Wait a second. I agree that we’re not the most healthy group of executives in the Valley, but don’t you think you’re going a little too far when you say we’re political?”
“No. I think that this is one of the most political groups I’ve ever seen.” As the words came out of her mouth, Kathryn realized that she probably could have been a little more delicate. Right away she could sense the people in the room banding together to challenge her harsh critique.
Even Jeff took issue. “I don’t know, Kathryn. This might be a function of your not having worked in high tech. I’ve worked at some pretty political companies in the past, and I don’t know if we’re all that bad.”
Kathryn wanted to respond, but decided to let the others empty their chambers first.
Nick fired away. “I think we’re about average, based on what I’ve heard from other executives. Keep in mind, this is a tough market.”
Smelling blood in the water now, Mikey dove in. “I agree. I mean, you’ve joined the company at a weird time, and to make that statement after just a few weeks is pretty careless.” Although her colleagues didn’t agree with the harshness of that remark, Mikey knew that they weren’t going to challenge her on this one and risk wasting an opportunity to regain a little of the upper hand with their new boss.
Kathryn waited until no more comments came, and then responded. “First of all, I am sorry if my comment sounded flip. You’re right in that I haven’t worked in high tech, and so my reference point could be a little off.” She let the partial apology sink in before continuing and made sure not to begin her next sentence with the word but. “And I certainly don’t want to come across as condescending to you, because that doesn’t help us get where we need to go.”
Kathryn sensed that a few of the team members—Jan, Carlos, and Jeff—received her statement in the sincere vein in which it was intended.
She continued. “At the same time, I don’t want to downplay the very dangerous situation that we’re all in. We have big problems, and I’ve observed enough of this group to know that politics are alive and well here.” As graciously as she acknowledged the concerns of her people, Kathryn was certainly not backing down. “And frankly, I would rather overstate the problem than understate it. But only for the good of the team, not for my own satisfaction. I can assure you of that.”
Because of her consistent behavior over the past day and a half, and the confidence with which Kathryn made her remark, most of her staff seemed convinced that she was sincere.
Nick frowned, but Kathryn couldn’t tell if he was angry or confused. It was confusion. “Maybe you should tell us exactly what you mean by politics.”
Kathryn thought for just a moment and then answered as though she were reciting from a book she had memorized. “Politics is when people choose their words and actions based on how they want others to react rather than based on what they really think.”
The room was silent.
Martin, as serious as ever, cut through the tension. “Okay, we’re definitely political.” Though he had not intended to be funny, Carlos and Jan laughed out loud. Jeff just smiled and nodded his head.
As compelling as the points she was making were, Kathryn could see that members of the group were still trying to decide whether to embrace her ideas, or attack them. It became immediately clear that the next move would be an attack.
ATTACK
To Kathryn’s surprise, it was JR who challenged her, and he wasn’t particularly nice. “I’m sorry, but you’re not going to make us wait for three weeks to find out what the other dysfunctions are, are you? Can you just tell us what they are so we can figure out what’s not working and get on with it?”
Taken at face value, the comment would have been somewhat innocuous. Maybe even a compliment if it were offered in the spirit of true curiosity. But in that moment, with the tone in which it was asked, and given the usually mellow nature of the person who posed the question, it was the harshest comment thus far of the off-site.
Had Kathryn been a less secure executive, she would have been rocked by the remark. And for a moment, she almost let herself get disappointed that the goodwill she thought she was generating had dissipated so quickly. But then she realized that this was precisely what she needed in order to provoke real change in the group: honest resistance.
As much as she wanted to stick to her plan and gradually unveil her simple model, Kathryn decided to take JR’s advice. “No problem. Let’s go through the other three dysfunctions right now.”
EXHIBITION
Kathryn went to the white board, but before she filled in the second box from the bottom, she asked the group a question. “Why do you think that trust is important? What’s the practical downside for a group that doesn’t trust one another?”
After a few seconds of silence, Jan tried to help Kathryn out. “Morale problems. Inefficiency.”
“That’s a little too general. I’m looking for one very specific reason why trust is necessary.”
No one seemed ready to offer an answer, so Kathryn quickly provided it for them. Just above absence of trust she wrote fear of conflict.
“If we don’t trust one another, then we aren’t going to engage in open, constructive, ideological conflict. And we’ll just continue to preserve a sense of artificial harmony.”
Nick challenged. “But we seem to have plenty of conflict. And not a lot of harmony, I might add.”
Kathryn shook her head. “No. You have tension. But there is almost no constructive conflict. Passive, sarcastic comments are not the kind of conflict I’m talking about.”
Carlos weighed in. “But why is harmony a problem?”
“It’s the lack of conflict that’s a problem. Harmony itself is good, I suppose, if it comes as a result of working through issues constantly and cycling through conflict. But if it comes only as a result of people holding back their opinions and honest concerns, then it’s a bad thing. I’d trade that false kind of harmony any day for a team’s willingness to argue effectively about an issue and then walk away with no collateral damage.”
Carlos accepted the explanation.
Kathryn pressed her luck. “After watching a few of your staff meetings, I can say with a degree of confidence that you don’t argue very well. Your frustration sometimes surfaces in the form of subtle comments, but more often than not, it is bottled up and carried around. Am I right?”
Instead of answering her semi-rhetorical question and giving Kathryn a modicum of satisfaction, Martin prodded her. “So let’s say we start arguing more. I don’t see how that is going to make us more effective. If anything, it’s going to take up a lot more time.”
Mikey and JR were nodding now. Kathryn was ready to take them on, but Jan and Carlos stepped in for her.
First Jan. “Don’t you think we’re wasting time as it is by not hashing things out? How long have we been talking about outsourcing IT? I think it comes up at every meeting, and half of us are for it, half are against it, and so it just sits there because no one wants to piss anyone off.”
Carlos added with a sense of conviction that he rarely showed, “And ironically, that is exactly what pisses us off!”
Martin was growing more and more convinced and wanted to learn about the rest of the model. “Okay, what’s the next one?” That was as close to an acknowledgment of being right as Kathryn was going to get from Martin.
Kathryn went back to the white board. “The next dysfunction of a team is the lack of commitment and the failure to buy in to decisions.” She wrote the dysfunction above the previous one. “And the evidence of this one is ambiguity, ” which she wrote next to it.
Nick was reengaging now. “Commitment? Sounds like something my wife complained about before we got married.” The group chuckled at his mediocre joke.
Kathryn was ready for the reaction. “I’m talking about committing to a plan or a decision, and getting everyone to clearly buy in to it. That’s why conflict is so important.”
As smart as he was, Martin was not afraid to admit his confusion. “I don’t get it.”
Kathryn explained, “It’s as simple as this. When people don’t unload their opinions and feel like they’ve been listened to, they won’t really get on board.”
“They do if you make them,” countered Nick. “I’m guessing your husband doesn’t let his players vote on whether they want to run wind-sprints.”
Kathryn welcomed this kind of challenge. “No, he doesn’t. But he’d let them make a case why they think they shouldn’t. And if he disagreed with them, which in that situation I’m sure he would, he’d tell them why and then send them off running.”
“So this isn’t a consensus thing.” Jan’s statement was really a question.
“Heavens no,” insisted Kathryn, sounding like a school teacher again. “Consensus is horrible. I mean, if everyone really agrees on something and consensus comes about quickly and naturally, well that’s terrific. But that isn’t how it usually works, and so consensus becomes an attempt to please everyone.”
“Which usually turns into displeasing everyone equally.” Jeff made his remark with a look of pain on his face, as though he were reliving a bad memory.
“Exactly. The point here is that most reasonable people don’t have to get their way in a discussion. They just need to be heard, and to know that their input was considered and responded to.”
“So where does the lack of commitment come into play?” Nick wanted to know.
“Well, some teams get paralyzed by their need for complete agreement, and their inability to move beyond debate.”
JR spoke up. “Disagree and commit.”
“Excuse me?” Kathryn wanted him to explain.
“Yeah, in my last company we called it ‘disagree and commit.’ You can argue about something and disagree, but still commit to it as though everyone originally bought into the decision completely.”
That lit a bulb in Jeff. “Okay, I see where conflict fits in. Even if people are generally willing to commit, they aren’t going to do so because ...”
Carlos interrupted. “ ... because they need to weigh in before they can really buy in.”
The room seemed to understand that.
“What’s the last dysfunction?” Everyone was surprised that it was Mikey who asked, and she actually seemed interested in the answer.
Kathryn went to the board to fill in the last empty box. Before she could, Martin had opened his laptop and started typing. Everyone froze. Kathryn stopped and looked at her chief technologist, who seemed clueless about the new sense of tension in the room.
And then suddenly it dawned on him. “Oh no, I’m actually, uh, I really am taking notes about this. Look.” He was attempting to show everyone the document that he was creating on his screen.
Everyone was amused at Martin’s anxiety about explaining his behavior and not wanting to violate the team rules. Kathryn laughed, pleased that her engineer was suddenly enthusiastic about what was going on. “That’s okay. We believe you. I’ll let it slide this time.”
Kathryn looked at her watch and realized that the group hadn’t taken a break for several hours. “It’s late. Let’s go ahead and break for a half-hour. We’ll finish this later.”
Though they would deny it if asked, Kathryn was certain that she saw disappointment on the faces of everyone in the room. JR was big enough to admit it. “Let’s go ahead and do the last one.” And then he added humorously, “I don’t think any of us are going to be able to relax if we don’t know what it is.”
As sarcastic as the comment could have sounded, buried just below the humor was a subtle but unmistakable sense of acknowledgment. Whether he was acknowledging the rudeness of his prior statement or the validity of what Kathryn was explaining didn’t seem as important as the tone of the comment itself.
Kathryn was glad to oblige. She went to the board for the last time and wrote avoidance of accountability.
She explained. “Once we achieve clarity and buy-in, it is then that we have to hold each other accountable for what we sign up to do, for high standards of performance and behavior. And as simple as that sounds, most executives hate to do it, especially when it comes to a peer’s behavior, because they want to avoid interpersonal discomfort.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?” Jeff asked.
“I’m talking about that moment when you know you have to call one of your peers on something that matters, and you decide to let it go because you just don’t want to experience that feeling when ...” She paused, and Martin finished the sentence for her: “ ... when you have to tell someone to shut down their e-mail during meetings.”
“Exactly,” Kathryn confirmed appreciatively.
Carlos added, “I hate this one. I just don’t want to have to tell someone that their standards are too low. I’d rather just tolerate it and avoid the ...” He tried to think of the right way to describe it.
Jan did it for him: “ ... the interpersonal discomfort.”
Carlos nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s really what it is.” He thought about it for a moment, then continued. “But it’s weird. I don’t have as much of a problem telling my direct reports what I think. I seem to hold them accountable most of the time, even when it’s a sticky issue.”
Kathryn was thrilled by the remark. “Right. As hard as it is sometimes to enter the danger with your direct reports and confront them with something sticky, it’s even harder with your peers.”
“Why’s that?” asked Jeff.
Before Kathryn could answer, Nick explained. “Because we’re supposed to be equals. And who am I to tell Martin how to do his job, or Mikey, or Jan? It feels like I’m sticking my nose into their business when I do.”
Kathryn explained further. “The peer-to-peer thing is certainly one of the issues that makes team accountability hard. But there’s something else.”
No one seemed to have a clue, and Kathryn was ready to answer her own question. Just then Mikey’s face lit up like she had just solved a puzzle. “No buy-in.”
“What?” asked Nick.
“No buy-in. People aren’t going to hold each other accountable if they haven’t clearly bought in to the same plan. Otherwise, it seems pointless because they’re just going to say, ‘I never agreed to that anyway.’”
Kathryn was shocked at her unlikely star pupil. And if that wasn’t enough, Mikey went on to say, “This actually makes sense.”
Everyone looked at one another as if to say, Did you hear what I heard?
On that note, Kathryn excused the team for their last break of the day.
FILM NOIR
No matter how many times Kathryn had built or refurbished teams, she never got used to watching the inevitable ebbs and flows. Why can’t we just make progress in one fell swoop? she asked herself.
In theory, with Mikey and Martin now seemingly on board, it should have been relatively easy to make the team work. But Kathryn knew that reality did not usually match theory; she still had a long way to go. Two years of behavioral reinforcement around politics is a tough thing to break, and one lecture, no matter how compelling, is not going to do it. The painful, heavy lifting was still to come.
With just a few hours until the end of the first off-site, Kathryn was tempted to end the session early and send everyone back to work on a relative high. But that would have been a waste of two critical hours, she thought. She needed to make as much progress as possible, and soon, to ensure that the board wouldn’t be tempted to cut her effort short.
When the group had returned from their break, Kathryn decided to introduce a relatively entertaining discussion topic relating to conflict, one that would hold their interest late in the day.
“Let’s talk more about conflict.”
She felt the room sink just a little at the prospect of taking on such a touchy subject. But Kathryn was actually looking forward to this part.
“Someone tell me what the single most important arena or setting for conflict is.”
After a pause, Nick took a stab. “Meetings?”
“Yes. Meetings. If we cannot learn to engage in productive, ideological conflict during meetings, we are through.”
Jan smiled.
“And I’m not joking when I say that. Our ability to engage in passionate, unfiltered debate about what we need to do to succeed will determine our future as much as any products we develop or partnerships we sign.”
It was late afternoon now, and Kathryn sensed that her team was drifting into postlunch food coma. Her words didn’t seem to be getting through to them, and she would have to make this interesting if she had any chance of making it stick.
“How many of you would rather go to a meeting than a movie?”
No hands went up.
“Why not?”
After a pause, Jeff realized that her question was not a rhetorical one. “Because movies are more interesting. Even the bad ones.”
His peers chuckled.
Kathryn smiled. “Right. But if you really think about it, meetings should be at least as interesting as movies. My son, Will, went to film school, and I learned from him that meetings and movies have a lot in common.”
The group seemed more doubtful than intrigued, but at least Kathryn had their interest for the moment. “Think about it this way. A movie, on average, runs anywhere from ninety minutes to two hours in length. Staff meetings are about the same.”
Heads nodded, politely.
“And yet meetings are interactive, whereas movies are not. We can’t yell at the actor on the screen, ‘Don’t go into the house you idiot!’”
Most of the group laughed. Are they actually starting to like me? Kathryn wondered in a brief and uncharacteristic moment of insecurity.
She went on. “And more importantly, movies have no real impact on our lives. They don’t require us to act a certain way based on the outcome of the story. And yet meetings are both interactive and relevant. We get to have our say, and the outcome of any given discussion often has a very real impact on our lives. So why do we dread meetings?”
No one answered, so Kathryn prodded them. “Come on, why do we hate them?”
“They’re boring.” Mikey seemed to enjoy her answer more than she should have.
“Right. They’re boring. And to understand why, all we need to do is compare them to films.”
Now the group was starting to get interested again.
Kathryn continued. “Whether it is an action movie, a drama, a comedy, or an artsy French film, every movie worth watching must have one key ingredient. What is that ingredient?”
Martin answered dryly. “Well, since we’re talking about conflict, I’m guessing that’s it.”
“Yes, I suppose that I telegraphed that one, didn’t I? Every great movie has conflict. Without it, we just don’t care what happens to the characters.”
Kathryn paused for effect before delivering her next line. “Let me assure you that from now on, every staff meeting we have will be loaded with conflict. And they won’t be boring. And if there is nothing worth debating, then we won’t have a meeting.”
The team seemed to like that statement, and Kathryn wanted to deliver on her promise immediately. “And so we’re going to start right now.” She checked her watch. “We have almost two hours until we break today, and so I thought I would have our first substantive decision-making meeting as a group.”
Nick objected, with a serious look on his face. “Kathryn, I’m not sure I can do this.” Caught off guard, everyone waited for an explanation. “I never received an agenda.” Everyone, including Jeff, laughed at the good-natured teasing of their former CEO.
APPLICATION
Kathryn wasted no time. “Okay, here’s the deal. Before we leave this meeting, we are going to establish something I call our overarching goal for the rest of the year. There is no reason that we can’t do this now, right here, today. Someone take a stab.”
“What do you mean exact?” Jan asked. “Like a theme?”
“Yeah. The question we need to answer is this: If we do anything between now and the end of the year, what should that be?”
Nick and JR responded in unison. “Market share.”
Heads around the table nodded, except Martin’s and Jan’s. Kathryn called them out.
“You two don’t seem convinced. What are you thinking?”
Martin explained, “I think it’s product improvement.”
Jan added, “And I’m not so sure that cost containment isn’t our top priority.”
Kathryn resisted the temptation to address their suggestions herself. “Someone take them on.”
JR obliged. “Okay, I think that our technology is as good as, or better than, both of our top competitors’. And yet, they are getting more traction than we are. If we fall too far behind in terms of market capture, it won’t matter what our products can do.”
Martin barely frowned. “If that’s the case, then imagine what things would look like if we fell behind in products.”
Ever the peacemaker, Carlos asked, “Can’t we have more than one overarching goal?”
Kathryn shook her head. “If everything is important, then nothing is.” She resisted any further explanation, wanting the group to work through it.
Jan persisted. “Can someone tell me why cost containment isn’t the goal?”
Mikey responded quickly. “Because if we don’t find a way to make money, avoiding spending it does us no good.” As annoying as Mikey’s tone was, the truth of the statement could not be denied. Even Jan nodded in concession.
Kathryn made a quick comment. “This is the most productive conversation I’ve heard since I’ve been here. Keep going.”
That was enough to give Jeff the courage he needed to make his point. He winced, as though he didn’t want to prolong the conversation. “I don’t know. I’m not sure that market share is the right measure at this point. We don’t really know what the size of the market is and where it’s headed.” He paused while he decided what to say next. “I think we just need more good customers. Whether we have twenty more or twenty less than our competition doesn’t seem to matter as much.”
Mikey jumped in. “That’s the same as market share.”
“I don’t think so,” Jeff offered nondefensively.
Mikey rolled her eyes.
Nick wanted to avoid a repeat of the previous day’s encounter with Mikey. “Listen, whether we call it market share or customers doesn’t really matter. We just need to sell.”
Now Kathryn spoke. “I think it matters. What do you think, JR?”
“I think Jeff is right. If we get enough solid customers, the kind who will be active references for us, then we’re doing fine. Frankly, I don’t care at this point what our competition is doing. That seems like a distraction more than anything else—at least until we get rolling and the market takes shape.”
Martin seemed annoyed now. “Listen, this is the same kind of conversation we have at every meeting. If it’s not market share versus revenue, it’s customer retention versus satisfaction. It all seems academic to me.”
Kathryn forced herself to be silent for a few moments as the room digested Martin’s comment. Then she asked, “How do those conversations usually end?”
Martin shrugged. “We run out of time, I guess.”
“Okay. Let’s bring this conversation to a close in the next five minutes. Does anyone here believe that the key to the next nine months has something to do with market share, customers, revenue, et cetera? If someone thinks we’re in the wrong ballpark completely, speak up now, and loudly.”
People looked at one another and shrugged as if to say, I can’t think of anything better.
“Good. Then let’s come to closure on exactly what we’re talking about. I’d like to hear someone make a passionate plea for the answer being revenue. JR, how about you?”
“Well, one might argue that revenue is the right answer, because we need cash. But frankly, I think that is far less important at this point than proving to the world that there are customers out there who are interested in our products. Revenue is not as important as closing deals and getting new customers.” He had just talked himself out of the revenue answer. “Does that make sense?”
“It makes perfect sense to me.” Kathryn pushed on for clarity. “So I’m not hearing anyone saying that revenue is our most important goal.”
Jan squinted and spoke up. “Are you saying that we don’t need to have a revenue goal?”
“No. We will definitely have a revenue goal. It’s just that revenue is not the ultimate measure of our success right now. We’ve narrowed it down to market share and new customers. Someone tell me why market share is the right answer. Mikey?”
“Market share is how analysts and the press define success. It’s as simple as that.”
Martin countered. “No, Mikey. Whenever I’m interviewed as a founder of the company, people ask me about key customers. They want marquis company names and people who are willing to vouch for us.”
Mikey shrugged.
Kathryn challenged her. “Are you shrugging because you don’t agree and you’re giving up, or because you feel like he made a more compelling point than you can counter?”
Mikey thought about it. “The second one.”
“Okay. We’re down to new customer acquisition. Someone tell me why this should be our collective, overarching goal.”
This time Kathryn didn’t need to call anyone out. Carlos volunteered.
“Because that will give the press something to write about. It will give our employees confidence. It will provide more product feedback for Martin and his engineers. And it will give us references to go out and get more customers next year.”
JR chimed in. “Not to mention follow-on sales.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Kathryn announced, “unless I hear something extremely compelling in the next five seconds that makes me think otherwise, I believe we have a primary goal.”
Members of the staff looked at each other as if to say, Are we really agreeing on something?
But Kathryn wasn’t through yet. She wanted specifics. “How many new customers do we need to get?”
The group seemed to be invigorated by the tangible nature of the discussion. For the next thirty minutes, they debated the number of new customers they could and should acquire.
Jan lobbied for the most, followed by Nick and Mikey. JR was frustrated and argued hard for the fewest, wanting to keep his quota low so as not to discourage his salespeople. Jeff, Carlos, and Martin were somewhere in between.
As the debate seemed to be running out of steam, Kathryn jumped in. “Okay, unless someone is holding something back, I think I’ve heard all the opinions in the room. And we are probably not going to agree completely, which is fine, because there is no science here. I’m going to set the number based on your input, and we are going to stick with that number.”
She paused for a moment, then continued. “Jan, we aren’t going to do thirty deals this year, even though I know how much you’d love that revenue on the books. And JR, I can appreciate your desire to keep your folks motivated, but ten is not enough. Our competitors are doing more than double that, and the analysts will throw up all over us if we come in at ten.”
JR seemed to offer no resistance to Kathryn’s logic.
She continued. “I think that if we can close eighteen new customers, with at least ten being willing to be active references, we will be doing well.”
She paused to allow any last comments. When none came, she declared, “All right then. We will have eighteen new customers by December 31.”
No one could deny that in twenty minutes the team had made more progress than they normally did during a month of meetings. Over the next hour they drilled down on the issue of new customers, discussing what each person, from marketing to finance to engineering, would need to do to make eighteen deals possible.
With fifteen minutes to spare before the off-site was to officially end, Kathryn decided to bring things to a close. “Okay, let’s call it a day. We’ll be having a staff meeting next week when we can dig deeper into some of these and other critical issues.”
The group seemed relieved to be finished. Kathryn asked one final question. “Are there any comments, questions, or concerns people want to raise before we leave?”
No one wanted to bring up a topic that would delay their departures, but Nick decided to make one comment. “I have to say that I think we made more progress during these past two days than I thought we would.”
Jan and Carlos nodded in agreement. Mikey, to everyone’s surprise, didn’t roll her eyes.
Kathryn wasn’t sure whether Nick was trying to make points with her, or whether he really appreciated what had happened. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and take the muted compliment to heart.
And then JR spoke. “I agree with Nick. We accomplished a lot here, and getting clarity around our major goal is really going to help.”
Kathryn sensed that there was a qualifier coming. And she was right.
JR continued. “I’m just wondering if we need to continue having these off-sites now. I mean, we’ve come a long way, and we’re going to have to do a lot of work over the next few months to close deals. Maybe we can just see how things go ...”
He didn’t really finish the remark, but let it hang there. Martin, Mikey, and Nick were cautiously nodding their heads in agreement.
Whatever sense of accomplishment that Kathryn had felt just a few minutes earlier had diminished significantly. As much as she wanted to put a quick and violent end to JR’s suggestion, Kathryn waited to see if anyone would do it for her. Just when she thought no one would help her, Jeff spoke up and demonstrated that he had indeed taken many of Kathryn’s ideas to heart.
“I’d have to say that canceling our next session in two weeks would be a bad idea. I just think that when we go back to work, it’s going to be easy to slip back into the same stuff we’ve been struggling with for the past couple years. And as painful as it’s been for me to sit here for the past few days and realize how unsuccessful I’ve been in making us work like a team, we have a long way to go yet.”
Jan and Carlos nodded their agreement.
Kathryn used the opportunity to prepare her team for what was to come. She addressed her initial comment to JR and Nick. “I appreciate your desire to spend as much of your time as possible closing deals.” She was being slightly disingenuous but wanted to avoid slamming them too hard, too early. “However, I want to remind you about what I said at the beginning of this session yesterday. We have more money, better technology, and more talented and experienced executives than our competitors, and yet we are behind. What we lack is teamwork, and I can promise you all that I have no greater priority as CEO than making you, I mean, us, more effective as a group.”
Mikey, Martin, and Nick seemed to be relenting now, but Kathryn continued. “And what I’m about to say is more important than any other comment I’ve made since we arrived yesterday.” She paused for effect. “During the next two weeks I am going to be pretty intolerant of behavior that demonstrates an absence of trust, or a focus on individual ego. I will be encouraging conflict, driving for clear commitments, and expecting all of you to hold each other accountable. I will be calling out bad behavior when I see it, and I’d like to see you doing the same. We don’t have time to waste.”
The room was silent.
“Okay, we’ll be back here again in two weeks. Drive carefully everyone, and I’ll see you in the office tomorrow.”
As everyone packed up and headed for the door, Kathryn wanted to feel good about what she had accomplished. However, she forced herself to face the likely prospect that things would have to get worse, maybe even much worse, before they would get better.
Even most of the staff members seemed to be sobered by the likely prospect of ongoing pain. And none of them would have been surprised to know that one of their colleagues wouldn’t be around by the time the next off-site began. They would have been shocked, however, to know that the colleague would not be Mikey.
