Leadership – the Road Ahead

As promised, here is the start of a series on leadership. It is based on research that I undertook two years ago and also gives me an opportunity to reflect on what I learned since then.

There are several things to consider:
How have our views of the world changed?
What are the roles of vision and mission?
How is leadership exercised?
What are the necessary personal qualities?
How must the leader develop once he or she assumes the role?

All of these were of interest and took me on an extensive journey through the writings of the past two decades. So a revisit will involve not only those findings but what has been learned since.

Being the board

Being the board

No – this is not about becoming a director – except perhaps of one’s own life. The Zanders note that when bad things happen to good people it is rather easy to become a victim. This stance, as others have noted, is really a form of self punishment that allows one to be stuck in a mindset that is ultimately self-destructive.

So rather than be a loser in a situation where one should have been a winner, The Art of Possibility suggests that one treat one’s self as the board on which the game is played. Life isn’t predictable – and just because we want it to be a certain way, doesn’t mean that will be the way it plays out. By doing anything, being anywhere, saying anything – we are exposing ourselves to risk. It’s part of life.

And rather than obsessing about why other people act the way they do, enter our path in a negative way or say hurtful or outrageous things – and we have all encountered these situations – the book invites us to ponder what our response might be. Rather than playing injured innocent, there may be some opportunities for learning.

Giving an “A”

Ben Zander has some useful advice for us in dealing with other people. His own example is from the student orchestra of his music world, but it is intended to apply to all of us. It’s about expectation. He tells the students that they will receive a grade of A on one condition – that they write an essay to tell him, why at the end of the year they deserve one. It’s an interesting example of encouraging intention.

When I taught secondary school many years ago, I was about to meet a new class. A colleague and I compared notes. “This one’s lazy, I said. That one can be depended upon to be disruptive. I’m really glad that I don’t have to put up with this particular one again this year”. She rolled her eyes. “You’re not looking at my new class”, she said, “You’re looking at yours”. Severely chastened, I went to the classroom and told the group what I had done. Using myself as the bad example I was, I told them that I had thrown away all previous expectations and we were going to start with a clean slate. The class, of course, had matured over the summer. But so had I.

If we expect little of others, we shouldn’t be surprised if that is what we get. If we expect too much, that can do us in too. Zander relates a story later in the book when he expected one of his star players to meet his expectations – forgetting that she might have some of her own. By giving himself an A in admitting that this was unfair, he actually got her to return to the orchestra. We are not always that lucky when we admit we are wrong. Recognizing that we both have something to contribute nevertheless can increase the art of possibility.

It’s all invented

Ben and Roz Zander remind us that we all see life through a particular lens – in other words we make it up. Among the things we do is define what it means to be human, we open up new ways to think and act. At our best, they say, we create flight paths to the eternal.

Ben’s musical background has taught him the importance of the long line. If you watch his TED talk, that appears earlier in the blog, he demonstrates how a beginning pianist starts to understand what he is playing – first bay emphasizing every note, then every other one, then one in four – based on the bar lines of the music. He observes that these emphases could be the way we organize our lives and that most ten year old pianists give up at this point. But the one who hangs in suddenly discovers the long line of the music that goes well beyond the limits of bar lines – the beauty of the shape that soars as we journey with it.

The chapter ends with a kicker – “Transformation happens not by arguing, but by generating active ongoing practices that shift the culture’s experience of the basis of reality. Geared to a shift in posture, perceptions, beliefs and thought processes. These are not easy”, he says.