-this collective leadership skill is totally missing..our crises is not an end of life crisis it is a way of live crisis—we need a new bulwark. in this interconnected flat world behavior matters more than ever before. Why—interconnection leads to ethical interdependence.
the nature of relationships is exposed—situational v. sustainabile (I can treat you any way I can because i wont see you again v. sustainable values
meaningful, deeply v. transactionally
which are human values—truth trust transparency honesty—the values that enable human relationship.
we have systematized everything in our organizations except how we work together our culture
If you agree that values have a role to play in our lives, then I will propose these 3 innovations:
-not human innovation, but innovation in humanity—new ways of coming together to collaborate and have relationship
-the behaviors that we want in the world today, resilience, agility, innovation, and not just any innovation, disruptive innovation-those are the killer apps of the 21st century. But we have a 19th century governing system—we cant launch those apps with this operating system.
Character is destiny—organizations have a character—its called culture.
we can use skills/tools to develop capacity and take those we mentor (and ourselves) from an understanding of self, to the other, to the immediate organization and community in which we find ourselves responsible for results, to the responsibility for the outer world and community.
Growing up is hard to do, or why I owe the bus driver a thank you
Last week I was talking to a friend’s daughter—at 12 years old Chelsea was decrying the constraints of kid-dom and glorying in my adulthood. “I can’t wait to live on my own and be independent!” she said while stuffing me full of her totally awesome macaroons.
The cookies had put me in a fairly chipper mood, so even I was caught off guard by my vehement response—“Heck no! Stay young as long as possible, grow up slow because when you get there it is A LOT of work.”
Like today: took kid to school, picked up allergy meds, called dentist to inquire about my tooth extraction next week, called school for next year to negotiate kindergarten tuition, sat in the car during street cleaning to avoid a ticket (worked from Iphone), came home and worked some, emailed the accountant, and soon heading off to the chiropractor, then to pick up child from school, then to playground, dropping child for the weekend at her dad’s house, then to the gym and hopefully a date night with my husband
The bright spots were my coffee this morning, writing this blog, and hopefully the playground (if meds work) and date night (if the gym workout doesn’t kick my butt too hard).
Growing up is hard to do, or why I owe the bus driver a thank you
Last week I was talking to a friend’s daughter—at 12 years old Chelsea was decrying the constraints of kid-dom and glorying in my adulthood. “I can’t wait to live on my own and be independent!” she said while stuffing me full of her totally awesome macaroons.
The cookies had put me in a fairly chipper mood, so even I was caught off guard by my vehement response—“Heck no! Stay young as long as possible, grow up slow because when you get there it is A LOT of work.”
Like today: took kid to school, picked up allergy meds, called dentist to inquire about my tooth extraction next week, called school for next year to negotiate kindergarten tuition, sat in the car during street cleaning to avoid a ticket (worked from Iphone), came home and worked some, emailed the accountant, and soon heading off to the chiropractor, then to pick up child from school, then to playground, dropping child for the weekend at her dad’s house, then to the gym and hopefully a date night with my husband
The bright spots were my coffee this morning, writing this blog, and hopefully the playground (if meds work) and date night (if the gym workout doesn’t kick my butt too hard).
Growing up is hard to do, or why I owe the bus driver a thank you
Last week I was talking to a friend’s daughter—at 12 years old Chelsea was decrying the constraints of kid-dom and glorying in my adulthood. “I can’t wait to live on my own and be independent!” she said while stuffing me full of her totally awesome macaroons.
The cookies had put me in a fairly chipper mood, so even I was caught off guard by my vehement response—“Heck no! Stay young as long as possible, grow up slow because when you get there it is A LOT of work.”
Like today: took kid to school, picked up allergy meds, called dentist to inquire about my tooth extraction next week, called school for next year to negotiate kindergarten tuition, sat in the car during street cleaning to avoid a ticket (worked from Iphone), came home and worked some, emailed the accountant, and soon heading off to the chiropractor, then to pick up child from school, then to playground, dropping child for the weekend at her dad’s house, then to the gym and hopefully a date night with my husband
The bright spots were my coffee this morning, writing this blog, and hopefully the playground (if meds work) and date night (if the gym workout doesn’t kick my butt too hard).
Bruce Nussbaum blogged for Fast Company yesterday suggesting that Google’s Greatest Innovation May Be Its Management Practice. The article suggests that bringing on multi-generational leadership propelled Google through rapid growth. He also cites a stagnated economy and explosive CEO pay as evidence of business’ failure (especially at the top) to provide the innovation needed to grow the economy.
Big established corporations have been struggling with these new developments for over a decade and many have made big strides in changing their business models to accommodate them. Open sourcing, social media platforms, new products and services, even new HR practices for new hires are examples. We know this too. What has not changed, however, has been business leadership practices. Corporations still hew to the concept of a single, mature CEO leading a vast, global enterprise. It is an outdated, inefficient, and destructive mode of leadership.
I have worked for a 200 year old law firm (partnership) and am now coworking at a start-up that employs multi-generational leadership. The agility that comes from this varied perspective is obvious, but less predictable is the opportunity this affords for life-long learning—a crucial aspect of maximizing the labor force and keeping boomers interested and productive well into the traditional years of retirement.
The amount of learning and the “sparks” of creativity generated in my current environment propels the business and inspires dedicated employees (the nerf guns help, too). Compared to the slow legal bureaucracy of cogs in it for the pension and little else, it is easy to see how changing the leadership structures of established corporations might be a key to finding new solutions to the challenges of today’s multi-generational workforce .
There may very well be success stories on both sides, but the question is always, how is that measured?
Max De Pree, who Taggert references on the servant leader side, said, “its so easy to fall into the trap of measuring only what’s easy to measure. Our real job is figuring out what’s significant to the organization and to the people who actually do the work and find ways together of measuring what’s significant. That’s tough. That’s essential. That’s beginning to reach for potential.” (Leading Without Power, p. 56).
Generally you can’t get a view except by climbing a hill. We love to hike around the area where we live and capture the view from a high vantage point. It opens you up to things you could not see otherwise, offering a totally different perspective on the immediate land formation and the sea stretching far beyond. Physically it’s exhilarating.
Some times when I have to climb a hill to get to a building on campus, however or to haul boxes to help someone move, the idea of walking up a hill is not so exciting. The terrain around me becomes less interesting and more of a burden. But to get where I need to go, and do what I need to do, I have to exert the extra effort. Putting it off will not change the circumstances. The hill will still be there tomorrow. Occasionally there are ways around it of course, and I could opt for those, but frequently the options are as much work or are as unpleasant, just in some other manner. Part of fulfilling our potential is being able to recognize these differences and not faulting ourselves for the times when the hills are burdens. We often speak of the amazing richness of mountaintop experiences and the famous words of Martin Luther King, Jr. will always capture our imagination: “I’ve been to the mountaintop … [God’s] allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land.”
But the entirety of his Mountaintop speech, as well as the context of speaking those words on the night before he was assassinated, reminds us that getting to that point is filled with hills of pain, struggle and self-scrutiny. It is only as we engage with the lessons those hills have to teach us that the mountaintop opens up to us its meaning and its brilliance.
We each have to work out how to handle the times when the hill seems too difficult. Sometimes I find value in just getting a work-out, so the struggle is inherently worth it, but other times I need to think strategically about the process. Breaking the hill down into “doable” segments is one way I make it to the top when it’s difficult. You might want to ask yourself: How do I normally approach difficult tasks and does that work for me? Do I get the results I want? If not, what do I need to change? Who do I want to bring along to share the view and what actions am I taking to include them?
I’d wish that at a younger stage of life these leaders would know in their hearts that what they’re figuratively ready to die for is going to change. If they could live in light of that knowledge, they would think differently about their jobs and the world. When we’re 52 and we’ve just been made the CEO or chief financial officer in a good-sized company, we honestly believe we’d be ready to die for earnings per share or return on investment. But in about 10 years that’s going to change. We’d be better leaders if we understood that what we were ready to die for is going to change.
