Here’s my dilemma: if I were to accurately describe what I went through writing this book, the amount of help I needed and received (I’m not going to), and how many people pitched in over a prolonged period of time, you wouldn’t think I deserved much of the credit for writing it. And, given what it took, I don’t want people thinking that.
Mark Shahriary is my closest friend, mentor, and therapist. He’s also the most intelligent, humane, and thoughtful manager on Planet Earth. I know; I observed him running four companies over a span of twenty years. We meet every Sunday morning at Izzy’s Delicatessen for “psyche” sessions tracking the course of one another’s lives. That’s where, for the last several years, Mark has served as the alter-ego writer of this book. He was there every step of the way—reading drafts, helping me interpret, asking questions, and telling me what I missed. No one could ask for more.
Although we’ve not met face to face (and that’s a story), I count Larry Rout a close and precious friend. We met by happenstance on a writing project, bonded instantly, wrote a book together, and I’ve been the beneficiary and victim of his genius writing talent ever since. Beneficiary? Because Larry’s a generous man and I draw confidence knowing he’ll always be there for me. And he has been, time and time again. Victim? Because knowing Larry can always say it better, and in half the number of words, pushes me to be a better writer than I have the stuff to be.
Warren Bennis was my close friend for almost fifty years. We always looked out for one another. He wrote prologues, dust jacket copy, and acted as literary agent for several of my previous books. And he was there at the inception of this book, which for three years prior to his leaving, was an unfolding plot; neither of us had any idea of where it was taking me. I believe Warren would have totally appreciated where I landed—although it’s not a place he liked to venture. He was that type of a guy. Warren saw the wonderfulness of leaders and had a keen eye for spotting leadership virtues. My conclusion is the opposite. I see leaders needing to step up and take charge of the tough people stuff, and I see most too self-enamored to do so.
Walter Nord is another dear friend. He’s also the most well-read and well-versed scholar I know. I’ve been surfing the waves of his friendship and insight since we met. I’d tell you the exact number of years but I think Walter plans to work forever and it’s probably best that I don’t divulge his age. His ideas have impacted my worldview and have greatly emboldened me to write this plain-talking, theory-pushing book. Walter has always had my back. He has my gratitude and love in return.
You can say what you want about your relatives, and I have—some in this book. Among the ones I treasure most is my nephew Paul Koplin. Paul has read, discussed, and reacted to several manuscripts of mine, this one included. I always gain from our conversations and so appreciate his forthrightness and support. This time he gave even more. I faced many personal challenges over the course of writing this book and Paul was always accessible. His father was a wise man. Paul is too.
Henry Dubroff—now there’s a natural man. So accomplished, so bright, without pretense and so very humanly accessible. What a favor he did me writing a soulful foreword. I believe he gave readers the momentum needed to immerse themselves in this book. O, Henry, how well you captured what you wrote.
Many people read drafts of this manuscript and were kind enough to share their honest reactions with me. Early drafts were extremely terse and rough, but in most instances not as rough-edged as the grilling I gave my readers. Certainly I value them as glitch-finders and for their supportive praise (I think some people believe I get off on adulation). But I also use manuscript readers as focus-group informants. I sweet-talk them up front and then, increasingly, I begin digging into their experiences and challenging some of what they tell me. If this book had a Hall of Heroes, each of these names would be inscribed on the walls: Reza Kaviani, Scott Schroeder, Ramsey Hanna, Yin Hua, Beverly Kaye, Cliff Burrows, Rossann Williams, Leonard Isenberg, Tom Altura, Jeremy Amen, Joseph Kim, Ilene Kahn Power, Elise Anderson, Matt Inouye, and Ron Pilenzo—and I’m leaving out many whose help I’ll never forget but whose names I’m having trouble remembering.
Another person who’s very present in this manuscript is Claudia Gilmore Gutierrez. She was my editor at inception and gave momentum to my start. Then she decided to get on with her life—you know, like marriage, and USAID employment in Egypt. Steve Bernhut also helped for a time. I appreciated his goodwill and his diligence in contributing.
The people at Oxford have been fabulous. But it would be a wasted effort mentioning their names. Dedicated professionals, they would say they’re merely doing their jobs and edit out any mention of their names. But I think they’ll leave in the name of senior editor Abby Gross, who immediately spotted the importance of my message and tastefully contributed to my getting it out. I so appreciate her collaborative spirit and, very important, her willingness to laugh at my jokes—well, most of them.
There are many people I can’t acknowledge either for fear of giving away their anonymity or tainting them with discredit for sharing their heretic views. If this is You, thank you very much! The people I can acknowledge are my students, some current and more past, who keep in touch, tell me about their lives at work, and challenge me with the dilemmas they face coping with situations not of their making.
There were four lovely people supporting me with almost-anytime help. They provided the support and interlude conversation that allowed me to focus on my writing. Thank you Silveria Lopez, Joseph Boroumand, Kevin Kurata, and Oscar Garcia.
I saved “my best” for last. Almost from the first day I met her, my wife Rosella has been the best part of my life. I would embarrass you, and her, if I told you the daily sacrifices she made so I could write. Let me leave it at this: there would be no book or Sam Culbert without her. That’s as honestly as I can state any fact. She’s my life, and I dedicate this book to her with boundless love.