HOW MANAGERS CONVINCE THEMSELVES BAD BEHAVIOR IS GOOD MANAGING
This isn’t the first time culture has warped good intentions, preventing people from doing what they know is right. American history is full of examples. Think about the slave trade and people living in the Jim Crow South. Plenty of well-meaning people knew slavery and institutionalized racism were atrocious, but the thought of change was overwhelming. Instead of following their conscience, they went along with this way of life with the hope of coming out on top.
Take Thomas Jefferson, author of the Declaration of Independence, for example. Historians say he was morally against slavery, but he still bought into the system, with nearly two hundred slaves to his name.1, 2 He could have used his political might to speak out, but Jefferson instead found ways to rationalize his consent and support for this immoral practice. Like many others, he overrode his sensibilities to go along with a culture-endorsed system that enabled him to live a privileged life.
I find a troubling parallel in today’s workplace. There are too many well-meaning people who know better, who override their sensibilities and play along with what they see the mainstream culture rewarding, hoping to realize their goals for success. They play mind games, trying to believe that there’s no better way to manage people, or interact with them, without jeopardizing their own aspirations and success. In the end it’s all about keeping your job, getting ahead, and ignoring the costs.
I see a large part of this mentality embedded in the narrative with which people grew up. Nearly every grade-school social studies class gives lessons on how Americans are independent, goal-focused, and relentlessly determined to improve their prospects in life. Our textbook heroes had humble beginnings. They overcame insurmountable obstacles. They accomplished more than anyone dreamt was possible—so the stories go. Davy Crockett, Jackie Robinson, even Oprah Winfrey—they’re the stuff of legends. These hardworking, talented people demonstrate that, with enough grit and determination, all things are possible. That’s the American way; it’s the bedrock work ethic.
The world of management personifies this perfectly. It’s where people get noticed for their individual accomplishments and promoted for long hours and steadfast determination. The culture is about learning essentials, sticking to your guns, building image, climbing the ranks, and using cunning and stature to intimidate those in your way. Donald Trump spoke candidly about this: “My style of doing things is fairly simple. I just push, push, and push again what I want to achieve.”3 However irritating he might be, Donald was honest about his approach. Most managers I know are more subdued in owning up to self-interested agendas, but they operate the same way as Mr. Trump. Pushing to get ahead is the name of the game in today’s work culture.
But here’s the thing—that’s not “management.” Whether they realize it or not, managers have been conditioned to follow a culturally inspired script that’s obsessed with self-success. However, in their zeal to succeed, managers overlook their number one assignment—setting the stage, and creating the conditions, for others to accomplish and, yes, succeed. I’ve worked with and coached managers for decades, and it’s rare to hear one admit to dereliction of this assignment. Their intentions are in the right place, and they think they’re doing a good job for their direct reports. But truth be told—and it’s a hard truth to swallow—their focus is on staging the conditions for their own success, not the success of their reports.
It’s like a Boy Scout out to do a good deed trying to help an old lady cross the street in a direction she doesn’t want to go. Confused by the old lady’s resistance, the scout never thinks to ask where she’s headed. He’s out to earn the Good Samaritan badge and can’t imagine his interests not aligning with those of the lady he’s ostensibly out to help.
In the same way, most managers never think to ask their employees this simple question: “What do you need from me, and how can I help you?” Rather, they announce the direction in which they’re headed and just assume “the team” will follow. Then they’re puzzled when direct reports don’t show equal enthusiasm. When they encounter inertia, their backup tactic is like Mr. Trump’s “push again.” Of course, the direction they’ve chosen has something in it for them; if it didn’t, they would be proceeding differently. In their minds, it’s the employees who don’t get it. Then again, maybe the inertia employees show signals it’s the managers who don’t get it.
Don’t get me wrong: managers owe it to themselves to accomplish and advance. But they also owe direct reports the guidance and support required for them to do the same. When someone’s job title includes the word manager and direct reports are involved, the core motive should not be self-success attained by leading the way and taking credit for what the team accomplishes. Instead, good management behavior requires stepping back from the limelight and putting self-pursuits on hold. It’s about helping direct reports to merge what’s unique and important to them with the needs of the enterprise employing them. That is good management in the true sense of the word.
I’m disheartened to find this perspective so often absent in the minds of people with management titles. Asked to describe the functions of a good manager, they all give at least lip service to an “other-directed” focus. It’s the politically correct response. But when push comes to shove, even the most empathetic and well-intentioned people seem unable to set self-interest aside. Despite everything written about the supportive role managers should play,4 it’s not the American way for managers to make others’ success their primary objective at the risk of neglecting their own. In fact, managers who subordinate their needs to help employees can appear coddling, and even a bit wimpy, in the eyes of their peers.
Like Donald Trump, most managers like to insist that things be done as they want them done. That’s why it’s so common to see direct reports deployed as operatives in accomplishing results that accrue to their manager. If I challenge bosses on this, as I sometimes do, most cite the urgency of company-needed results as the reason for steering employees down a path to success—as defined and orchestrated by that manager, of course. Since the managers charted and blazed the trail their operatives traversed, they get the major credit for what those operatives accomplished. No question about it, lots of people with manager titles know how to lead and direct. It’s just that the people working for them think of themselves as more than operatives and do-what-you’re-told functionaries. Strange how people with egos and distinctive identities like to be seen. They don’t want to be seen as interchangeable; they don’t want to be someone’s widget.
Self-justifying the directive role they play, many managers invoke some variation of the “a rising tide lifts all boats” aphorism. If the manager’s vision works, then everyone benefits, or so their thinking goes. Even though only a few managers brag—it’s not considered good form—all keep a list of accomplishments to recite when their bonus and salary are discussed. Who blames them? The whole work culture is about accomplishing, credit-taking, individual recognition, and getting ahead. If this is true for employees, it’s especially true for managers. It’s the American tradition; it’s how the world of work breathes and lives.
But deep down, something doesn’t feel right about this. Managers know they can’t just come out and say everything they’ve done was for themselves. They’d lose credibility and respect, not to mention the trust of direct reports. Of course, well-meaning managers don’t realize that this is what they’ve been doing all along. After all, keeping a tally of accomplishments is ingrained in the system. It takes a good deal of reflection and uncomfortable honesty for people to grasp their real intentions.
Most managers recognize the importance of covering over their credit-taking with humility—at least with their direct reports. Disingenuously, they thank “the hardworking people on the team who performed the work.” But the “team” doesn’t get the bonus, promotion, or management stature. Sometimes there’s a symbolic cash award or an employee-of-the-month photo on the cafeteria wall. Seldom does something material and lasting trickle down to operatives. The manager gets the credit and the bigger paycheck that goes with it. Whose boat rose with the tide after all?
Needless to say, this kind of self-serving management style doesn’t fly with employees. They don’t like managers claiming that every directive, guideline, and stipulation they gave was intended to benefit the team. Even the most naïve employee eventually sees such claims as inauthentic and begins to feel used. I’ve seen too many employees become completely deflated after realizing their hard work resulted in a promotion or bonus—not for themselves but for their boss. This is no way to motivate a team to give their all. Outside of people who work on idealistic causes, such as political campaigns and humanitarian efforts, employees don’t put in long hours merely to advance their boss’s ambitions. They expect something out of it too. But many managers never get that straight.
Consumed with self-advancing pursuits, managers don’t recognize their own ongoing failure to provide something essential direct reports need: an other-directed focus. Ironically, that other-directed focus is the very thing that, in another moment, managers fault their own bosses for not providing them. That’s right, when acting as direct reports, managers “get it.” They know what’s missing because it’s what they want for themselves. They know good management means creating the conditions for direct reports to succeed in the ways they envisioned when they took their job and assumed their assignments. But when acting as managers, these same people appear clueless. One might think of what managers fail to get from their bosses as poetic justice served.
Meanwhile, top-tier managers are on the hook for overall jurisdiction results. They need to get the best possible performance out of everyone so the company can grow and prosper—which is in everybody’s interests. That’s why the term manager was invented. I’m not talking about managers simply driving employees to get more accomplished. Darth Vader can run a tight ship, but who would want to work for him? I’m talking about managers taking an other-directed focus by learning enough about each report to contour assignments in ways that allow them to achieve and progress on their individually held goals. People arrive to the job motivated. The real trick is to avoid turning them off.
Think of it this way. Imagine a parent who wants the very best for their children. They want to help their children discover what they love to do, and find ways to pursue it. In a similar way, managerial work is about developing an authentic concern for each direct report. This means learning enough to appreciate each employee’s unique capacities, and knowing where that individual wants to go. Then, just like a good parent, a good manager sets the stage for employees to realize their full potential, and succeed as they themselves, not their managers, envision. I’m talking about a manager practicing “mindset management,”5 not insisting reports live in their “US of Me.”
Did you notice what’s distinct in how I’m portraying the management function? I didn’t describe good management practiced through command-and-control, hierarchical relationships, where the employee is the only one held accountable. I’m portraying a reciprocally accountable relationship where each person is committed to helping the other accomplish what the company needs in ways that are unique and meaningful to the person performing the activity. The employee is responsible for accomplishing company-needed results, and the manager is responsible for ensuring that the company gets what it needs by establishing the conditions required for the employee to be and contribute their best.6
I find it absurd when a manager gets rewarded while one or more direct reports fail to deliver company-needed results. It’s absurd because the manager also dropped the ball. The way I see it, the manager’s job is to provide each employee the support, coaching, oversight, and help that allows that employee to achieve results the best way the employee knows how. Defining it this way, a manager fails the company each time one of their reports fails to deliver.
Sure, not everyone’s able to succeed at each task assigned them. That’s because employees come with limitations, just like managers do. There are always grounds for grading an employee down and holding them accountable for mistakes made, and for what they failed to deliver. But, to be fair, the grading should account for the fact that the employee had a manager who selected them for a task they couldn’t perform, and then failed to provide the additional resources the employee needed to get the job done.
The bottom line is that managers should take the time to really get to know their employees. Without understanding the abilities and limitations of the people reporting to them, managers won’t know what personal imperfections to work around so they don’t sink end results. When a disappointing performance occurs, the manager shouldn’t get off scot-free. The company counts on everyone to do their jobs to the best of their ability, including the bosses. I’ve had to speak up for companies and remind managers of this. I tell them, “Up until the time either you or your report moves on, your job is to get the very best that the individual has to give the company. Period.”
The way I see things, both parties have skin in the game. Neither succeeds when the other doesn’t. I like it when managers and direct reports discuss how things are going, flag trouble spots for one another, and realistically discuss who has the skills and time to do what. I especially like it when managers check in with their reports, inquiring if there’s anything more that they need. I like it even more when reports feel comfortable enough to answer truthfully. It’s about being proactive rather than reactive. But managers consumed in self-interested pursuits often lack the time and inclination to ask questions, let alone learn the reasons for the difficulties an employee has. Even when they do have time, managers too seldom take an other-directed focus that includes learning the strengths and limitations, interests, and aspirations of their reports.
Lacking such a focus, employees get lumped into categories, and too much is assumed. The worst example is how top-tier managers blithely assume employees will warn them when something’s amiss. In chapter 1, I wrote about General Motors and the Veterans Health Administration managers learning this lesson the hard way—that is, if they actually learned it. That same year, even the prized Secret Service suffered a slew of institutional comeuppances. Entire administrations would not have come under fire if employees had felt comfortable raising issues with their managers, and if mid-level managers felt comfortable doing the same with their higher-ups. But clearly, the right people didn’t feel comfortable enough. Despite federal legislation that protects whistle-blowers, people in the know found it self-advantageous to remain quiet.
I can’t count the number of managers who, in confidence, have shared something they felt to be grossly wrong about how people in their company were being managed. Citing one mandated practice or another, or some out-of-control cohort manager wreaking havoc, they acknowledge systemic obstacles to employee effectiveness. But few speak up about what’s wrong, or about the remedy implied by the problem statement they formulate. And those who do feel obligated to attempt a fix generally do just enough to assuage employees, while avoiding saying or doing anything that might rankle a cohort manger or a person higher up. Why do managers act as if their hands are tied when it comes to fixing things for direct reports? Why are they so concerned about rankling a peer? Whatever the reason, it doesn’t get publicly discussed.
Herein lie several conundrums managers aren’t able to reconcile. Combined, they account for bad management behavior being more norm than exception. If a manager’s core responsibility is setting the stage for direct reports to perform their best, why are managers with failing reports considered successful and deserving of more responsibility? Why are managers not called derelict for failing to notice, remove, and replace practices and protocols that systemically block the effective functioning of people they are mandated to assist? And, how do managers fool themselves into believing they’re practicing good management behavior when the people reporting to them are afraid to tell them what’s actually on their minds? Wouldn’t you think managers might lose image and credibility admitting to conundrums like these? Apparently they would, which explains why so few acknowledge them.
This is where doublethink enters the picture. Doublethink is the coping mechanism managers use to explain away the negative outcomes their actions, and inaction, hold for others on the grounds they were doing what the work culture stipulates good managers are supposed to do. It’s the rationale that allows managers to justify just about anything they do—regardless of the negatives inflicted. Doublethink allows managers to override their sensibilities, and to mute the inner voice that tells them they should be doing more for their reports. It’s the “rising tide lifts all ships” rationalization for not performing the most essential part of their managerial function—making it possible for others to accomplish, develop, and succeed on grounds important to those others.
Of course, no well-intentioned manager wants to see themself relying on doublethink to manage. No manager owning up to using doublethink could see themself doing a good managerial job. They might think themselves self-serving, manipulative, duplicitous, or who knows what else.
Think again about our well-intentioned Boy Scout. Just like many upwardly striving managers, his compass is set to accumulating merit badges, not to helping the old lady get where she wants to go. And, in this instance, he’s got his eye on promotion to Eagle Scout. Talk about a one-track mind focused on personal accomplishment! If you could ask him, you’d probably learn he honestly thinks he’s performing good deeds for others. Now this scout is off to earn his “Good Manager” badge. Given his role models, I’m afraid to imagine what he’s got up his sleeve for that one.
Most managers aren’t as clueless as our well-meaning Boy Scout. Many have their own lists of grievances, and see dysfunction at higher levels as the cause. They complain that their organization’s policies and practices make it hard to give managing their all, to engage in selfless acts, and to speak their truths, and still receive the recognition and promotions due them. These managers tell me how upsetting it is when they see their own bosses fabricate truth and insist on practices that promote distrust within the ranks. So naturally I ask what they’ve done to fix what they see as broken. That question elicits a list of “the system won’t let me” explanations nearly as long as their list of grievances.
Managers convincingly tell me it’s not their role, speaking up won’t get them anywhere, and, besides, it’s not smart to be seen rocking the boat. They mention their fear of alienating cohort managers who appear content with the status quo. They tell me that they’re doing a good job turning out results and helping employees, all considered. So, one minute they complain about bad management above them. Then the next minute, when the ball is placed in their court, they immediately switch tunes and, helped by doublethink, drift into saying, “Well, it’s not so bad after all.”
It gets better though. What shocks me next is how these same managers think that they’re doing a good enough job by not changing anything. They have the nerve to call their reluctance “effective managerial action.” No, this is the opposite of effective managerial action; it’s ineffectiveness through managerial inaction.
Their response never sits well with the people reporting to them who find their daily effectiveness constrained. It doesn’t sit well with me, even though I see them hemmed in by forces of which they are unaware. And it doesn’t even sit well with them. Doublethink comes with a cost for everyone, especially the companies counting on allegedly world-class managers to get the best from everyone employed. Most people want to give it their all, and deserve better than mystifying managerial statements. There are actions that can be taken. Managers fool themselves by pretending there aren’t. Stephen Hawking said it very well: “I have noticed even people who claim everything is predestined, and that we can do nothing to change it, look before they cross the road.”7
The thing is, change is always possible, no matter how much people convince themselves otherwise. Culture is not an entity that stands on its own. Ask any sociologist or anthropologist. They’ll tell you that culture is a social construction. That means people create it and people can change it. You’d think people’s tolerance for doublethink excuses would be wearing thin; I know mine is. I’m tired of listening to top-level managers saying it’s too difficult to sell the idea of change to other managers whose endorsements are needed for a company-wide fix.
You want an example? Listen to what this lead engineer working in aerospace thinks about management’s reluctance to change one obvious and simple thing. It’s a fix that would greatly benefit the company, yet everybody’s afraid to make a move. See if any of this sounds familiar.
Along with others in aerospace and defense, our company is facing a wave of upcoming retirements. I am deeply perplexed by the poor job we are doing replacing critical subject-matter experts. I see a total absence in training due, in large part, to our complicated management system.
In short, the company is “matrix managed,” meaning the typical employee has two mutually exclusive management chains—one for their function (i.e., software engineering) and one for their product-line business area (i.e., satellite communications). And, it’s generally agreed that each function is ‘responsible’ for training people to perform their function’s work. When there are program-level reviews that include management from both sides of the matrix, people don’t know how to respond to questions like, “What is going to happen when Rick, the software engineer working in satellites, retires?” Quickly, everyone looks to the line manager responsible for software engineering for some kind of answer. You can count on him to nod his head as if he plans on doing something. And he follows script. No one from either side of the management matrix claims responsibility for preparing someone to replace Rick.
I’ve seen several examples of this over the last two months as we close in on retirements that we’re totally unprepared to handle. I’ve heard explanations listing what has been done and what still has to happen, but it’s really all bullshit. And I know it’s bullshit because the software-engineering organization lacks a budget for training. Even if someone wanted to train replacements like they pretend they do, they can’t!
I’m stunned thinking how so many smart managers can sit by, watching a pending disaster unfold without pointing out the obvious: functional organizations like ours have no resources for addressing the looming problem in front of them. All their nodding agreement doesn’t mean a thing. When the stuff hits the fan no one’s going to remember there was no training budget to begin with. They’re all going to play dumb and deny any accountability. Every person questioned will merely say, “I fully intended to have replacements trained, but any training becomes a cost-overrun that could negatively affect our getting future business.’ Since everyone’s guilty of the same offense, no one is going to point a finger, and no one is going to take a hit.”
Okay, let me ask those familiar with management in large companies: Did anything in this example surprise you? Do you call this good management? Do you think what’s happening in this company is different from what’s happening in other companies, or other industries? I’ll bet that none of your answers were in the affirmative.
As usually happens in mismanaged situations, it’s the company that stands to lose the most. In instances like this, you have managers acting as if they’re hostages to one another’s doublethink. They behave as if they’re afraid to get involved. Instead of rolling up their sleeves and working to remove bureaucratic obstacles, they leave it to their direct reports to come up with a solution. In a short time they’ll be talking like Monday morning quarterbacks making “should have done this” statements to sidestep accountability for their stalled operation. They’ll take some heat for their inaction, but not nearly as much as they must have fantasized thinking about how, with no cross-charging, training replacements would make their numbers look bad. I would hardly call their failure to get involved and take responsibility for getting replacements trained effective managerial action.
I imagine that the aerospace engineers, rather than their managers, will ultimately be blamed for this breakdown—at least that’s how hard-to-identify-who-was-responsible derelictions like this usually go down. Regrettably, I find very few managers willing to realize that a struggling employee’s poor performance is the result of actions they refused to take. Employees make easy scapegoats. All it takes is a bit of doublethink.
Don’t get me wrong: not all managers blow off their responsibilities. Conversations with bosses have convinced me that most retain the capacity to recognize what should take place—that is, when the individual needing to act differently is someone else. But when their own inaction is questioned, it’s easy for a manager just to evade. As the aerospace staffing problem clearly illustrates, all one needs to do is nod.
Thanks to hierarchy, managers don’t have to answer to employees. And when they do, it’s seldom more than a lip-service acknowledgement such as, “Thanks for bringing it up. That’s really important. I’ll take it under advisement.” They say this knowing full well that bosses above them will never hear. And when the consequences become too noticeable to overlook, some managers will go so far as to impose additional top-down controls and procedural policing. They’ll justify the need for added employee surveillance by citing a situation created by their unwillingness to fix a broken system. Talk about doublethink!
At this point, the scenario is staged for the coup de grâce of doublethink, and some managers just can’t resist. Scrambling to save face and maintain credibility with direct reports, they agree that some things need to change but then argue, “We can’t do it now.” Why not now? Because other managers, certainly not themselves, lack sufficient skills to manage without the top-down controls afforded by the bad management practices they just joined employees in criticizing. In their minds, they’re doing their peers a good service. They rationalize that truth-spinning and blame-dodging are necessary to help less adequate managers maintain the trust and respect of their reports.
Hello? Hello? Is anybody listening? That’s right—the doublethink reasoning managers give to justify lying to employees is helping peers maintain their employees’ trust.
To make matters worse, few managers understand that hierarchy should be kept out of relationships. And those who do seldom know how. Hierarchy is good for structure but it’s toxic in a relationship. Its presence puts employees on the defensive, disinclined to ask managers for the support and resources they need. Employees believe revealing the problems they’re having with their managers will get them scored deficient. In fact, most employees believe that mentioning any need for managerial assistance they’re not receiving, especially help with a performance difficulty, invites criticism, not managerial support. They fear their unmet needs will be heard as complaints that will linger in their manager’s mind, and later reconciled by their being graded down.
So we’re left with managers telling employees that they need to voice their concerns, but failing to provide the safeguards employees need to speak freely and push back when their manager interrupts. And who’s at fault? You know the answer. Employees are blamed for not speaking up.
Here’s a vivid example of an employee learning not to speak up. I believe I could collect literally a thousand examples similar to this.
The CEO tells me to put together a proposal where we offer our client an advertising platform at twice their budget, and using approaches that will never get them what they need. I find myself unable to tell him everything he’s proposing is 100 percent wrong. In past encounters, I’ve been ignored when I voiced any dissent on matters about which I was hired to be the company expert. He makes me feel like I’m a soldier disobeying orders. So in this situation, I gently voice my opposition, and then tell him I will do whatever he feels is best for the client team and our organization. Deliberately, I withhold expressing how strongly I believe the approach he’s taking betrays the trust we’ve developed with the client—that led to our getting their business. Feeling once again ignored, I can tell you that this is the last time, until the day I can get myself a job somewhere else, that I will ever say anything sounding like a contrary opinion.
This narrative illustrates the negatives of what I call hierarchical command and control power-taking. A frustrated employee concludes that he has far more to gain by pleasing his boss than speaking up about what he believes to be best practices for the company. And who will pay the price? The client and, ultimately, the people who invested in this company, once the client decides to move on. Albeit on a less consequential scale, I see this employee’s situation paralleling what Veterans Health administrators and GM engineers went through when contemplating their whistle-blowing options. Fearful of speaking up, their silence cost patients and drivers their lives.
I find that any time hierarchy enters a work relationship you can count on employees becoming intimidated. Not only do employees fear sticking up for the company’s interests, they fear sticking up for themselves. They dread the consequences of telling their manager what they actually think and feel, such as, “Here’s what I need changed in your thinking and managerial approach in order to work the best way I know how.” Getting the obedience and acquiescence they like, few managers notice the kowtowing they receive. In fact, most managers fail to notice anything wrong with a hierarchical system that allows them to hold employees accountable for just about anything they decide to criticize or insist on.
I see a manager’s satisfaction with one-sided accountability as clear-cut evidence of a manager not assuming responsibility for ensuring the effectiveness of their direct reports. They don’t see the “damned if they do, damned if they don’t” predicament that garbles employees’ voices. The only way for employees to document what they need their manager to change in their dealings with them is to admit to not being able to do their jobs very well. Appropriately, I think, they fear providing managers the grounds for labeling the ineffectiveness they reference the result of employee ineptitude, not mismanagement. Thanks to doublethink, that’s easy to do. So the cycle of misunderstanding goes on, and on, and on.
Okay, you get the picture. Managers are human beings, needy, imperfect, and with image needs just like the rest of us. With one-sided accountability and doublethink as props, it’s unrealistic to expect them to take stock of mistakes and shortcomings, use of duplicity, and camouflaged dereliction. But there’s a cost of which they’re unaware. The more doublethink managers use, the more illogic and duplicity they expose to people who, at a future time, might find it advantageous to debunk them. It’s a vulnerability that builds with time.
I find very few managers resisting the momentary conveniences afforded by one-sided accountability and doublethink. The best way I’ve found to inhibit their usage is to eliminate the motive for people to deceive one another. This is done by revamping managerial relationships to make accountability two-sided. Hold the employee accountable for bringing in results, and hold the manager accountable for the employee’s successful performance. Then, no one wins if the other doesn’t succeed, and both gain by transparency. When an employee isn’t achieving positive results, the support, guidance, and oversight the manager is giving becomes the first variable under the microscope. Provide the manager a reason to earnestly inquire what each employee needs, and employees a no-fault logic for telling them. Put the manager’s skin in the game and doublethink becomes a liability. I have much more to say about this, and will as we move forward.
Important questions remain. Why do managers who, after all employee viewpoints are aired, get to make the decision they want, up-play hierarchy to squelch employee voice and input? What allows blatant managerial conundrums to go open-endedly unaddressed? Answers to questions like these get us closer to identifying the core impediment to managers living out their good intentions. Getting answers requires peeling back another layer of the onion to examine how people get chosen for managerial assignments, and the people skills managers acquire while moving up the hierarchy. That’s what I want to demystify for you next.
1. Eric Foner, “The Master and the Mistress,” New York Times, October 3, 2008. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/05/books/review/Foner-t.html?pagewanted=all
2. Paul Finkelman, “The Monster of Monticello,” New York Times, November 30, 2012. http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/01/opinion/the-real-thomas-jefferson.html
3. Clever Quotes, StatusMind.com, accessed September 13, 2015. http://statusmind.com/clever-facebook-status-2578/
4. P. Block, Stewardship (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler, 2013); P. Block, The Empowered Manager (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987).
5. This is the term used in a book I authored: Mind-Set Management: The Heart of Leadership (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994).
6. S.A. Culbert and J.B. Ullmen, Don’t Kill the Bosses! (San Francisco: Berrett-Kohler, 2004).
7. S. Hawkins, Black Holes and Baby Universes and Other Essays (New York: Bantam, 1993).