Humility
several years ago, a successful entrepreneur—I’ll call him Michael—hired me to help him. Michael had hit it big in his twenties, coming up with a financial-organizational system that he sold to major corporations for tens of millions of dollars. His windfall allowed him to take a few years off, and he spent that time circling the globe, investing in real estate, and doing whatever struck his fancy. He later settled down, had a few children, and then devoted himself to building another company as he entered his thirties. He was stuck, though, and wanted to see if a coach could help him understand why he wasn’t making headway attracting the right people to join his new venture.
It wasn’t long before I began to notice a pattern that helped explain his problem. During our calls, Michael went on about what he’d done that week, told me how confident he was about his ideas for the future, and stressed how successful he’d already been. But when I asked him for his specific goals for our coaching calls, he was often unprepared, and he rarely asked me for feedback. Instead he rattled on, seemingly unaware of his self-absorption. Finally, I asked Michael if he usually monopolized conversations when he met with others and if he ever let others speak or even asked for their opinions. My question brought him up short, but he clearly heard me because the following week Michael thanked me for being so honest. He said he asked his wife what she thought of my question: she was relieved that someone had clued him in.
Michael had been so successful at such an early age that he’d moved into a financial stratosphere most people couldn’t comprehend. The people around him often didn’t know what to talk to him about, other than to ask him for financial or business advice. Consequently, Michael often droned on for long periods, without being interrupted, and became accustomed to holding court wherever he was. He was rarely challenged, whether or not people agreed with him, because the conversations often turned toward men and women asking if he’d help them in some way with their charity, investment, or other business dealing.
It was a heady place for a young man to be in, and he’d gradually lost his curiosity in others, considering himself the smartest man in the room because that was how most people treated him. Unfortunately, Michael’s arrogance was the first thing people probably noticed now. We talked about how new acquaintances, especially those with whom he wanted to collaborate, must feel when he hogged the conversation and rarely let them have airtime. It became clear to Michael that part of his current dilemma about how to move forward was that he hadn’t allowed himself to hear new thinking by letting others share their experiences about anything. And he wasn’t making a good impression on potential employees.
To his credit, Michael changed. After our deeply personal conversations about how this had come to be his norm and his sobering self-assessment, Michael decided to talk less and listen more, and his conversations with everyone, not just me, became more enjoyable. It was no surprise to me that as he stepped back, making room for reciprocal dialogues and letting others shine, his vision for his new company became clearer. He began to attract the right people, who genuinely liked him and wanted to work with him, and he launched his company a year later. Michael learned that there is more harmony in a team—in fact, in all of his personal relationships as well—when instead of assuming he knows the right answers, he solicits input to help him make better decisions.
Good to great
The ending of Michael’s story won’t come as a surprise to anyone who has studied leadership or success. When Jim Collins, the author of Good to Great, studied the differences between companies that were good and those that had transitioned from good to great, he found that the most exceptional companies are the ones led by CEOs who are high in humility. They built organizations with senior leadership teams that were valued and given the latitude to succeed, and these humble CEOs didn’t need to take all the credit. They were also open to feedback and quick to change when problems required it, and their companies were built to last—they didn’t collapse when the CEO left.1
E. B. White’s popular children’s book Charlotte’s Web has a memorable scene in which Charlotte the spider spells the word “humble” in her web to describe Wilbur the pig. When Templeton the rat asks what it means, Charlotte answers, “Not proud,” which turns out to be only part of the right answer. A deeper look at the ingredients of humility has found that we see it in two ways: socially and intellectually. Social humility has honesty, thoughtfulness, maturity, and unselfishness at its core, while intellectual humility is made up of curiosity, a willingness to learn from others, and an openness to new ideas. Together, social and intellectual humility define humility as it shows up in studies of character strengths.2
When assessing high company performance in individual and team settings, a study from the University of Washington Foster School of Business reinforced the importance of humility as the critical ingredient—Collins calls it the X-factor. It meant that there was a willingness to listen to others, to admit one’s own shortcomings in order to learn how to be more effective in the future, and to be confident without conceit. Humility could be one of the key advantages to business success.3 The same study found that leaders high in humility had staff who were more engaged in their work, more committed to their leader’s vision, and more trusting and open to their leader’s ideas.
Dean of Harvard Business School Nitin Nohria echoes what his school’s research has shown on the importance of humility in leaders. Although leaders can possess a variety of approaches to solving problems and have different outlooks on life, he says that all great leaders possess one key determining trait: reflectiveness.4 The ability to be thoughtful, take in critical feedback, be honest with oneself and others, and go past superficial analyses is what gives them the clarity and wisdom to take decisive actions with confidence. In so doing, they also gain the respect of others, while role modeling effective leadership, particularly in troubled times.
Research bears out another reason humility is so important to success in settings where the stakes are high and the goals are big. People build bonds with each other when they don’t feel they will be exploited, making cooperation more likely. Humility, which has been called the “social oil” that makes this possible, reduces the chances of egotistical, selfish behavior.5 This isn’t just true in professional organizations; it’s also true in athletics and in marriages. Take the bestseller The Boys in the Boat, which details how the 1936 United States men’s rowing team had to work together as a cohesive unit in order to upset the favored Germans. In fact, rowing is often called “the ultimate team sport” because no one person can outshine the others in the boat; it’s the collective effort and shared vision of many people working in harmony that crosses the finish line, not the work of any one individual.
Although it may seem counterintuitive, having humility requires courage, because people who are humble are open to self-improvement and are willing to seek out feedback to become better. In fact, a Google survey of their best managers showed that the ones at the top were the ones who asked for critical feedback and then acted upon it.6 The same is true among many elite athletes, who have also been found to be among the humblest competitors. They never assume that they are guaranteed a win, and will risk failure so they can learn from it and get better. Dr. Wade Rowatt, an associate professor of psychology at Baylor University who studies humility, says that when athletes respect their opponents and conduct themselves with dignity during games, they are the ones who are always better prepared. They are also the ones who have the best reputation after they retire because of their modesty.7
How can anyone say they are self-made?
People with humility are grateful for the assistance they get and do not forget who has helped them along the way. Junior Bernard grew up one of nine children in Haiti and recalls that everyone was so poor and hungry in his town that “even the dogs were skinny.” His father repaired VCRs for a living, which is how Junior saw clips of American movies, in which he told me that he “always saw people doing exciting things, like going to their job or getting married.” He began to dream of moving to the United States to get an education and create a better life. When he found an English dictionary in a trashcan, he used it to begin learning English. He also followed tourists around in the hopes that they would talk to him so he could get better at the language.
Neighbors and the other kids belittled Junior for his dream of escaping the cycle of poverty, and his path was littered with crushing disappointments. His best friend, who had also hoped to leave Haiti for the United States, succumbed to alcohol and drug addiction. Another longstanding family friend stole the money Junior had saved to register for his final year in high school, causing him to drop out and despair that he’d ever find a way to get to the country he dreamed about.
Then Junior met a man, Billy Barr, who’d come to Haiti to volunteer with the Haitian Health Foundation, when he was assigned to be an interpreter for four days. Barr noticed that Junior showed up every day in the blazing sun with freshly pressed clothing, not just interpreting, but also working tirelessly alongside the volunteers until his clothes stuck to his body—never complaining or asking for special favors, the way many of the young Haitians did.
One day, Barr offered Junior his baseball hat to shield his head, but Junior declined, saying that his job’s restrictions prevented him from taking anything from anyone. Fascinated, Barr asked the nuns associated with the charity more questions about Junior. When they shared his dream of going to the United States to get an education, Barr wrote the following words to his wife about the possibility of their family helping him: “[I]t would be a shame to have someone that is so intelligent mired in poverty because of a lack of funds.” Not long after that, an elated Junior joined the Barr family in New Jersey; despite overwhelming odds against him, he passed the GED exam six months after he arrived, surviving on two hours of sleep a night and sleeping with the GED textbook. Junior went on to win a four-year scholarship to Alvernia University, inspiring everyone he encountered with his story and obvious passion for his newfound country and the chance to make his dreams come true. In 2013, he gave one of the commencement speeches in flawless English, exhorting others to dream big dreams and follow them with passion.8
In our interview, Junior shared an astute observation about humility that I’d never thought of, and that no one had yet mentioned to me—he challenged one of the phrases he’d often heard since moving to the United States. “I don’t understand how anyone can say they are self-made,” he commented in wonderment. “I couldn’t have accomplished anything without so many people doing things for me—feeding me when I had nothing to eat, giving me translation jobs when I wanted to talk to Americans, bringing me to the United States and giving me a home to live in. How can anyone accomplish anything without people helping them? How can you make yourself successful all by yourself?”9
How givers wind up at the top
Adam Grant is a legend at the University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School because of his quick rise to tenure (in three years) and his innovative approaches to studying success and creativity. His first book, Give and Take, looked at how people who are ardent and frequent “givers” wind up at the top of the success ladder, as opposed to where “takers” and “matchers” end up. Not surprisingly, takers have a predictable focus on promoting themselves and will do almost anything to shine, including taking advantage of others and cutting moral corners. One phrase that describes this behavior is “kiss up, kick down.”10
Grant’s book relays a funny story about how Enron’s Ken Lay epitomized takers—and faux grit—with his desire to receive favorable, if false, praise. In 1998, Wall Street analysts visited Enron to see how the company was generating profits. To impress them, Lay created a fake scene on a borrowed floor of the building, where employees brought family photos to their pretend desks and made pretend phone calls in which they bought and sold energy as the analysts passed through the scene.
Givers, on the other hand, are humble, which is how they often succeed at their gritty goals. Grant describes givers as people who look for opportunities to meet other people and find out what they need, and who then do whatever they can to be of service. They do this without strings attached, and they do it because they believe everyone ought to have every advantage to succeed. Givers find that making a difference in someone else’s life is its own reward, and that when they help others, it results not only in goodwill, but also in their being popular and having a positive reputation, all of which allow givers to amass the support they need when it’s time for them to get something done.
Research supports the idea that arrogant people—typically the takers—are less likely than givers to lend a helping hand. Psychologist George Fieldman speculates about these findings, noting that humble people are more in touch with their deficiencies and are empathetic toward others because they respect the boundaries of their own limitations: “Appreciating one’s own limits may enable people to empathize with the needs of others and so facilitate altruistic behaviors,” he says. “This, in turn, may have other benefits as it may foster acts of reciprocal altruism—so benefiting the altruist and society by default.”11
Humility run amok
Although it may be hard to believe, the overuse of humility can be as detrimental to success as its underuse. I’ve coached several CEOs who had humility among their top five character strengths, but instead of using it appropriately, they undersold themselves and were even pushed around by their senior leadership team and employees. One such CEO, whom I’ll call Ken, was young and socially awkward. He’d become the head of a new company because of his technological savvy, but had also been raised to defer to authority—in this case, a cadre of older professionals who’d been placed in top positions by the venture capitalists who had funded the company’s launch. This background, along with Ken’s top five strengths—which included humility, teamwork, and fairness—created the perfect storm for him to become a doormat to be stomped on and a pincushion for incessant needling.
As I sat through my first senior leadership meeting, I was astonished to see open displays of disrespect, contempt, and eye rolling whenever his team disagreed with what Ken was saying. Instead of allowing him to finish his sentences, they’d interrupt him and talk over him. No wonder he had asked me to coach him on becoming more “leaderly”! Ken’s tendency to give credit to everyone but himself, to consult others frequently while making decisions in the interest of “teamwork,” and to give his leadership team higher salaries than he took himself—so that it wouldn’t look “unfair”—left him looking not fair but instead weak, indecisive, and unproductive.
After I coached Ken on how the overuse of his top strengths was actually causing him to be unhappier and less successful, he began to take better control of his relationships with his management team, drawing better boundaries that fostered more respect. As I coached him and also worked with every member of his team, their harmony improved drastically. The meetings became more productive and engaging, and the team even began to behave like friendly colleagues. Teamwork was noticeably more positive, and the company’s profits soared.
Although I’ve seen a number of male leaders misuse humility, it’s a more common problem among women leaders, even those for whom humility is not a top-five strength. A study published in the Academy of Management Journal reported the findings that leaders who admit mistakes, spot and celebrate followers’ strengths, and model “teachability” are predictive of their own and their organization’s growth. These leaders, the study says, “model how to be effectively human rather than superhuman, and they legitimize ‘becoming’ rather than ‘pretending.’” There is a catch, though: humble leadership tends to benefit white men more than leaders who are young, nonwhite, or female—who instead report that they are constantly called upon to demonstrate their competence. Also, women are expected to show more humility than their male counterparts, which then calls their effectiveness into question. “Our results suggest that female leaders often experience a double bind,” one of the researchers, Bradley Owens notes. “They are expected to be strong leaders and humble females at the same time.”12
The value of humility presents still another conundrum. In Scandinavian countries, which have always ranked among the happiest in the world and which have the highest standards of living, an ingrained aversion to takers and to selfie grit prevails because of a cultural concept known as the Law of Jante. About eighty years ago, this notion of eschewing self-promotion and individual grandiosity arose from Danish novelist Aksel Sandemose’s description of the community he knew in childhood, where personal growth was governed by the benefits it would bring to everyone. The Law of Jante consists of ten principles that can be summarized by the statement “You are not to think you are better than us.” Today, the Law of Jante is seen by many Danes as a positive hedge against economic risk-taking and overconfident behavior, but many Scandinavians have also come to view it as a barrier to creativity and industriousness.13
While humility clearly has benefits, the Law of Jante and others like it, such as the tall-poppy syndrome—a term coined in Australia that describes the need to cut down to size anyone who stands out among others—show the dark side of enforced humility and how it can stifle excellence. Danish leaders are increasingly speaking out against the longstanding Law of Jante and its societal fallout. As prominent Danish commentator Niels Lillelund put it, “In Denmark we do not raise the inventive, the hardworking, the ones with initiative, the successful, or the outstanding; we create hopelessness, helplessness, and the sacred ordinary mediocrity.”14
One recent example in the United States of the spread of enforced humility that does nothing to promote hard work and excellence is the decision by some high schools to prohibit graduates from wearing designations of exceptional achievement so that all graduates will feel the same, which I discussed earlier. For example, in June 2016, Plano Senior High School in Plano, Texas, a wealthy suburb of Dallas, ruled that graduating seniors couldn’t wear the distinctive regalia of the National Honor Society because recognizing their high grades and community service would make them look “special.”15 Going one step further are the many schools I noted that are either eliminating valedictorian status or making it something that dozens of students in each class are granted. One school board in North Carolina has approved removing letter grades from students’ report cards and replacing them with Latin designations like cum laude, because, as the board says, “competition is unhealthy.”16 It’s hard to see how creating a society of false humility and non-recognition will result in positive outcomes, particularly if excellence is a goal. Without excellence, how can anyone learn how to do anything that is hard or that requires grit?
And there’s another type of humility that doesn’t ring true: faux humility, also known as “humblebragging.” I chuckle daily when I look at examples of this on Facebook, where statements about one’s good fortune (“Please pray for me as I go on the Today show because I have no idea why they chose my book as a guide to stress in the workplace!”) are mixed in with sneaky parental announcements about a child’s accomplishments (“Bubba wasn’t supposed to be a lifeguard today but he happened to save a child’s life while eating lunch at the pool!”).
Authentic humility
In the children’s story Goldilocks and the Three Bears, Goldilocks enters the house and progressively eats the porridge, sits in the chairs, and sleeps in the beds of the three bears, proclaiming “Just right!” when she eats the third bear’s porridge, sits in his chair, and sleeps in his bed. As I mull over the research on humility, its overuse and underuse and its role in cultivating authentic grit, I see that it requires getting humility just right in order to experience its full benefits.
Humility for the right reason and in the right dose is authentic humility, and when it is imbued with curiosity, generosity, vulnerability, an openness to critical feedback, and a willingness to grow, humility gives fuel to the fire of grit. With this kind of humility, you respect the challenges ahead of you and prepare with guidance from others. You grow your team of support through unselfish behavior and a desire to see others shine, too. Your setbacks aren’t met with petulance but instead with an understanding of your limitations and a desire to become better. You are not afraid to stand out, but you also don’t seek the limelight to prop up your ego. And finally, you understand the gravity of being a role model, yet you wear the crown lightly.
EXERCISE Ways to cultivate humility
• If you are prone to taking a lot of selfie photos and posting them on social media, take a break for a week or longer and carefully assess how you feel. Research has found that people who frequently post selfies and updates about themselves score lower on measures of belonging and meaningfulness, and can feel like their self-esteem rises and falls based on likes.17 If you must be on social media, post pictures of pets, friends, and scenery, which has been found to make people more likeable.
• Set a goal to not talk about yourself for at least one day, and instead be curious about other people and their goals. Encourage them to tell you what they most need to be successful, and see if you can help them. In other words, become one of the “givers” Adam Grant describes in Give and Take.
• Seek critical feedback from someone who is better than you at something you are trying to accomplish. Don’t ask someone who is just going to try to please you and stroke your ego. Get specific points that will help you improve your skills and behavior in meaningful ways.
• Write a real thank-you note (or email if it means you will definitely do it) to someone who has helped you achieve an important goal. The essence of humility is to know who has been instrumental in your growth and acknowledge those people appropriately. One of the upsides to expressing gratitude is that it also improves well-being, which is the precursor to all success.
EXERCISE Toot someone else’s horn
One of the nicest strengths about authentically gritty people is that they build bridges to other people by being supportive and generous. One of the ways to become humble enough to tout someone else’s wins is to find out what they’ve accomplished and how they did it, and then share it with others. When we can be excited and curious about other people’s good news, it’s called “active constructive responding,” and when we share their good news and encourage them to replay their success, we help others to “capitalize,” which further builds well-being. So learn how to do this if it’s not yet in your skill set.
Interview someone about what they view as one of their greatest accomplishments. Take the time to find out why it was meaningful to them, which strengths they used, and what has happened as the result of that accomplishment. Use curiosity to delve as deeply as possible by asking “what” and “how” questions. Then share that person’s story with someone else, and take note of how it feels to see someone else shine in other people’s eyes with you as the messenger. Is it hard for you to share the spotlight? Why or why not? Do you feel a sense of well-being when you promote someone else? What else do you feel?