The ending of things

Over 20 years ago this month, my friend and colleague Nathan ended his own life. He was only in his early 40s and it was a terrible shock to all of us who loved and respected him, and about a year later his mother, only in her early 60s, passed on as well, no doubt from a broken heart.

Nowadays, as I see the approach of her age coming up in my own years, I think about how and why things end.

Things end when people believe they've run out of options — or ideas. They're tired of trying, of problem-solving, of looking for alternatives. They're tired of the problem, that it exists at all.

Things end when people feel the burn of a constant disagreement and know they can no longer "agree to disagree." The state of disagreement becomes untenable.

Things end when it's healthier for an untenable situation to close, simply close. Sometimes the pain of ending things is less than the pain of living them out to no discernible conclusion.

In my job, I am constantly looking for solutions for my clients; it would be unacceptable for me to ever tell a client, "I'm sorry but that can't be done".... If Plan A is a bust, then let's try Plan B, or Plan C, or a hybrid of Plans C and F. And because that's the way I've lived for nearly 30 years, it's hard for me to accept it when people stop trying—or don't even begin to try at all. Coming up in the world of self-employment, I learned the try is what makes every risk and effort worthwhile of hope; but I've also learned that we each have different notions of "try." And so there's another lesson that comes with age: acceptance.

Acceptance. Finding one's own resilience again (and again, and again). Hope for the future. And peace to my friend Nathan's spirit, wherever he is.

"Would it upset you if I told you...um...your hair is burning?"

Recently, in a spurt of utter frustration, a friend asked me, "Are you this brutally honest with everyone? Someone shows up in a new dress and asks your opinion, and you tell her, 'Yeah, it looks like a sack on you.'"

No, of course not: none of us are universally one unyielding level of conduct in every aspect of our lives. I think this would be a pretty rigid, unresourceful personality. And there are different levels to the truth people seek in their lives, and varying levels of presumption and ethical action in how we choose to respond.

Pretty little white lies
It's easy to tell social white lies: we're not real stakeholders, the other person wants to keep feeling good about an innocuous private decision, and no real harm is done. In fact, greater harm might be done by giving an unvarnished truth ("Your new dress is a terrible mistake")....Social white lies abound: the friend in the awful dress may not really be asking for my opinion; maybe she just wants me to join her in feeling good.

But what if she's a friend and a colleague, about to represent our interests in pitching a critical new account? or she's about to head into a job interview for a position she really wants?

Ersatz vs. authentic kindness
Most humans are well-intentioned; most want to be kind. But throughout my life, I noticed there are people who feel obligated to be kind, or who are only kind when it's easy to be kind — they may in fact garner some pretty good personal PR. Just as there are social white lies, there's a shallow social sort of kindness that people enact out of short-lived good intentions or a fuzzy sense of moral obligation. While it's true "it takes nothing to be kind," the illuminating, life-changing kindnesses I've experienced in my life have come from individuals who took huge risks by giving me an unvarnished truth, not because it pumped their egos to deliver it, but because I needed more info, another way of looking at things, or, more drastically, to keep me from a terrible mistake. And I've found the authentically graceful people of the world are those who go uncredited — who are kind when no one else is looking, and no one else will know the grace they've bestowed on the rest of us.

The unvarnished truth for everyday moral dilemmas
I had to take a "co-parenting seminar" when I filed for divorce, and the one great take-away was this: "You will face many difficulties and dilemmas as a parent, where you won't know what to do. Any decision you make in the best interests of your child will have been the right decision." Somehow that unvarnished truth held me steady for 20 years, especially when my own pride and ego threatened to get in the way.

So when people in my classes talk about the small but troubling moral dilemmas they face at work, where there's more gray area than not, where matters of ego and turf cloud good judgment, I tell them, "You have to form a clear picture of what's going on, get advisory you trust, size up the risk, and do what's best for your organization. No one can misconstrue your motives if you can explain how your actions are in the best interest of the organization." For those who serve as agents and consultants, this means the wellbeing and best interests of your client's organization, if they're at the heart of the matter.

What "ASSUME" can mean
Insecure leaders usually gravitate towards yes-men and sycophants; we all know this. Human nature. Happens all the time. At a point in our socio-political history where good leaders are harder than ever to find, each of us can be a leader by being unafraid of reality. Especially in times of organizational crisis, where gray areas abound, and noisy scrambling egos threaten to muddy good judgment, be prepared to take a calculated risk. Don't be afraid to confront half-baked good ideas or outright poppycock.

•  Gently but firmly challenge points of unclear thinking, where you feel solutions have not been thought through. Ask for "groupthink" to work out options and contingencies. You should do this immediately and relentlessly if your department will be held solely accountable for results and outcomes.

•  Be unafraid to raise questions or confront delicate issues. Solutions often fail when touchy issues are left unconsidered. (Embarrassment is uncomfortable but remember that discomfort is temporary. And if you don't have a dog in the fight, don't play devil's advocate just to polish your own apple; you'll just come off looking like an ass).

•  Give and ask for concrete details: "If this, then what happens next? What should happen next?" A college professor once advised, "When you deliver a job to the next person in the production chain, explain it from their point of view, and do it explicitly. Pretend the other person's an imbecile, even when you know they're not. Be specific and clear so there's no room for unasked questions or easy assumptions."

In other words, be prepared to unleash "brutally honest," because assumptions aren't solid.

Bottom line? ASSUME can make an ASS out of U and ME.

Do you get it?

Clients regularly ask me to vet the assorted vendors who court their business. Some obvious questions:


•  How well does this person/organization understand collaboration? Project teams are usually cross-media, often not in the same region or time zone. In addition to expertise, effective collaboration requires access, responsiveness, and skillful listening.

•  How does this organization perceive themselves? Is there a clear vision and value proposition? Is this a group given to tough self-assessments, or are they narcissistic and in love with themselves?

An old Dr. Phil remark: "Be someone who gets it."

So . . . do you get it?


You can tell a lot about an organization by how they deliver their proposals. Proposal behaviors epitomize job performance. Even if judgments are processed unconsciously, most clients regard the speed, scope, and physical presentation of your proposals as indicative of job performance — ie, attentiveness to details, no bait-and-switch tactics, clear and reasonable expression of your insights (on any project-related issue).

•  Speed + accuracy = Motivation. Get that proposal in quickly, or ask the client when it would best serve them to receive it (and then beat it by a day or two, so you can discuss it before it's advanced to additional decision-makers). Imagine how it looks to a client to be ardently wooed for work, then made to wait days for your proposal. Hearing you say "It's been crazy around here but I'll get that estimate out to you!" may be a nifty sign (you're busy), but one shade away from hearing excuses  why you've missed a deadline (you're disorganized).

•  Appearance = Pride in work and gratitude. Is your estimate/proposal on your letterhead, or in an email, just a pile of numbers without an expression of gratitude for the opportunity, or even a signature? Many organizations require that clients sign on the dotted line before work can begin — fine if you need it, but personally I feel that if neither of our  handshakes are any good, then we probably shouldn't work together.

•  The "Tenzing Norgay" thing*. How have you defined the project and how you see process occurring? Do you suggest options and contingency plans for worst-case scenarios? Have you demonstrated why you're the right "sherpa" for this project journey?

"Give the client what they asked for, but tell them what you think they need." Your proposal/estimate is a great opportunity for showcasing how well you perceive their unstated needs, for defining both how you interpret the problem and the sort of solutions you think the client should consider.

You won't get every proposal, but every proposal is a great "venue" for showcasing how well you've listened to your client's briefing, and what you can do for them. If you're tired of the price game, stop giving clients mere numbers — instead, give them ideas, critical thinking, and strategies.

* Google it.

The Second Biggest Mistake Leaders Can Make

In the face of a slow economic recovery, pressure to "do more with less," reduced budgets, and vanishing raises or bonuses, it's easy for employees to become demoralized, start asking tough questions, and maintain a habit of complaining. As their leader, you may know how well they're justified; you may even feel sympathetic. But if you want to sabotage your own impact and authority, you'll indulge their fixation on negatives and maybe even participate in the bellyaching.
Big mistake. Here's what you can do instead:

• Fill the vacuum with positives. No raises or bonuses? Replace it with praise and recognition and appreciation. Get creative: with budgets slashed to the bone, after a very tough work period, one of my clients asked her team to contribute to a potluck lunch, during which she handed out cheap novelty-store "Oscars" for "best office manager" or "best intern." It costs nothing to say "Thank you, that was very well done, I know you went the extra mile," or to mark team successes with an informal celebration. It's not just a mark of shrewd leadership but basic civility too — and when times are tough, a premium put on civility can make work life more pleasant.

• Give evidence to maintain hope. Human beings, I've found, set up artificial barriers as reasons to stay stuck — because the devil you know is better than the devil you don't know. Start citing reasons to be optimistic. Remind your team of past successes, or valuable lessons learned from tough times. Report news of industry improvements or signs of market turnarounds. Most people wait for happiness to descend up on them like the weather. Remember that optimism, like happiness (and anything else in life), is a choice.

• Hammer negativity and incivility. Complaining and negativity go viral pretty quickly, and very often it's an instigating individual or small group of individuals who reject positive evidence and "recruit" others to their point of view. Stop the viral contagion before it evolves into speculative gossip or petty forms of sabotage (enacted to prove the negative view is justified).

I'm not saying we should gloss over the very real difficulties of our times. What I am saying is that your team will not benefit from working for a leader who walks in every day with an attitude of "You know, you're right, everything sucks. I hate my job, I hated coming in today, and they're not paying me enough to uplift your spirits as well."

As leader you're not merely a higher-paid version of your employees. You not only represent them to your upper management, but you represent upper management to your employees. I've yet to meet anyone who ever said, "You know, during the rough times, our incessant complaining prepared us for the worst and got us through." More likely it was, "Things got very tough, but we had a good leader who kept our team together, dealt fair and square with everyone, kept us focused. And somehow we got through it."

The first mistake many leaders make is to forget how closely they're being observed by those who work for them. The second is closely related to the first, and that's to join your employees in whatever despair or cynicism bedevils your workplace. 

Time Enough to Die

A colleague told me about riding through the backwoods of the rural southeast, silently guessing that whole sections of that population had never left those tiny townships, may not have studied beyond an 8th grade education, and never entertained the idea of expanding their worldview outside the scope of their experiences. This became abundantly clear when a teenaged boy shrugged and expressed a listless curiosity "to visit a really big city, like Athens, GA."

"I'm not being a snob or putting anyone down," my colleague emphasized. As a workforce-readiness trainer, her concerns are naturally about developing meaningful touchpoints for this demographic, because hitherto she'd only worked with upwardly mobile white-collar elites — professionals with at least a 4-year degree.

"How," she asked, "do you reach someone so they'll consider an occupation they never believed possible for themselves? Or go back to school, when they hated it and dropped out before they even reached high school?"

How do you persuade an individual to see a world of possibility?

The latest word is that — globally — 291 million Millennials are unemployed and/or not engaged in any sort of educational pursuit. (To give an idea, there are roughly 316 million people in the United States). That's a lot of young people without a sense of what they want to do in life. And nobody — but nobody — makes a lasting change on someone else's say-so. The most profound changes originate from within, from desire and ambition and curiosity and renewed self-confidence and a psyched-up belief in possibilities.

So how do you reach someone who might be metallic in their impenetrability, or so closed down in their self-concept, they can't believe possibilities exist for them beyond what they see day-to-day? The writer Antoine St. Exupery had a brilliant comment: "If you need to build a ship, don't give people tasks and plans; teach them to love the sea."

No matter who they are or where they come from in life, the ingenuity of everyday people always finds creative answers to solve problems. It's been shown time and again.

So to my colleague I said, "I think you have to meet them where they are — and leave them with a new idea."

A lot of young people are told to find work that is stable, profitable, respectable. This is good common sense but it leaves out a host of other lifelong needs — the possibility of feeling inspired, room to learn and be creative, opportunities to solve problems that not only ease the anxieties of trustees and shareholders but also humanity at large.

As society advances, we'll all need to work smarter with our heads, less with our hands. We need people who know how to think critically, and imagine and produce, all with a vigor and enthusiasm that attracts more ideas and customers and business alliances. (Nobody likes working with teams that are humorless, uninspired, down in the dumps).

Howard Thurman said it best: "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

The antidote to what doesn't make sense

I know this feeling: the 1996 Centennial Park bombing ... the hours during and after 9/11 ... waking up early before dawn last summer — my daughter Sam telling me about the Aurora massacre ... and again when hearing about the kids of Sandy Hook. 

It's this groggy slam of sorrow and disbelief — at the scale of the carnage, the brazen disregard for human life, and a thrum in your head of "Why? Why?"

What was the point to be made here, and has it been made now that you've blown the legs off a runner or riddled a kid's side with shrapnel?

For the next couple days, just pay it forward. Be extra kind to the jerk in traffic who's rude to you. 

"Love me most when I least deserve it, because that's when I need it most." 

Humanity needs it most right now.

That Rutgers coach is just the tip of the iceberg

Excuses, excuses....

I haven't posted here for nearly a year, primarily because I focused on writing a novel. It's my third and I began writing it over Labor Day weekend 2012. It took about six months to complete a first draft and I've had it out with readers who have since returned comments, so now I'm into rewrites — or, as I like to joke, Rewrite City: Town Without Pity.

Leadership and civility
...But I haven't forgotten about what's important here. Recently I revised my workplace civility course and geared it for leaders serving in the public sector, the bottom-line $64,000 question being, "What can you do to model the civil behaviors you expect to see from your employees?" 

Leaders or not, brazen repeat offenders are those with real or perceived "star power." They're the department manager, the killer salesperson, or the exceptionally gifted team member. The impact and long-term consequences of incivility are still the same: no matter how good your best employee may be, his or her acts of incivility will drive others away. And the entire organization will wind up paying for every cost.

Talent and civility

All day I've been bugged by this week's big sports story — the Rutgers coach on viral video, screaming homophobic slurs at his players, hurling balls at their heads, basically losing it when they weren't playing up to par. The sad reality is that homophobic slurs have been upheld since time immemorial to rattle a man's sense of his own masculinity, but it's still profoundly sick and wrong-headed to use them. His particular intensity may be new and off-putting, but screaming coaches are nothing new. Neither are belligerent CEOs or abusive drill sargeants or volatile artistic types.

Excuses, excuses

Why do we keep making excuses for this line of behavior? Does it look like "passion"? Do people perform that much better when belittled and terrified? Is so much riding on it? College sports may have become a billion-dollar business, but most American sports have  been characterized by gentlemen-athletes and scholar-athletes. (I think of the tender humility of Lou Gehrig's final farewell, or Pee Wee Reese throwing his arm around Jackie Robinson's shoulders). To squander that ethos is to surrender ourselves to the idiocracy thriving on the squalid conflict to be found in reality TV shows and cut-rate movies. 

Because here's the bottom line: If anyone in this world should know how to motivate talent, it's the sports coach. If anyone should understand the inner workings of players and teamwork, it's the coach. If anyone in sports should embody the values of fair play and sportsmanship, it's the coach. Anyone can be paid millions per year to stride along a ball court, screeching like a self-important putz. That he's like this? Shame on him. That he's been allowed to continue like this? Shame on us for tolerating it and believing value can be yielded from it.

If you as a leader do not hammer down on repeat offenders, their acts of chronic incivility will rework your organization until you wind up paying every red cent for the quantitative and qualitative damages they incur. It's not merely that this particular coach could behave this way; scrutiny should be paid to the culture that permitted it.

The Biggest Mistakes Leaders Make

No leader is perfect. Your boss is not superhuman, nor is anyone else in the pecking order. Here are some of the easiest pitfalls facing any leader:

•  He forgets how closely he's observed by his employees.

•  She confuses position with privilege.

•  He insulates himself with people who'll decrease his own personal insecurity, but fail to increase or improve the information flow he'll need to be effective in his job. (Additionally, he underestimates the symbolic impact of his own entourage and how their behaviors send distinct messages about his own character.)

•  She loses "the common touch" and foregoes basic courtesies when dealing with subordinates.

•  He is unable to assess when he's speaking as a private individual, and when his stated views represent the brand or service tradition of the organization he leads.

•  She's most likely to be influenced by the last person she spoke with.

Over the next few weeks I'll examine these in greater detail. Meanwhile, if you have additional thoughts or comments, please let me know. Thanks.

From the Madcap Idealist: Civility Media

A feature of old-stick-in-the-mud-ism is to deplore what the world is coming to.


The world has come to social media. I don't deplore it. It's a wonderful thing, to join the ambient reality of another human being's experience of life, to have immediate access to their insights and perceptions, to invite them to join in yours. And I'm old enough to remember that prescient McLuhan phrase about a "global village." 


Here we are.


One small problem: We the villagers have lost sight of a community's dearest value and commodity. We've forgotten what it means to be civil.


We use social media as a hedge to hide behind, to launch commentary that exalts those who agree with us, and shames or excoriates those who do not. It's easy to search and find punditry and stats that support our opinions; much harder to convene opposing viewpoints and agendas, and discern common ground. 


Today, public discourse is more polarized and rancorous than most Baby Boomers have ever known, yet this democracy was based on our willingness and ability to hold public discourse, whether that occurred in a town square or a Facebook thread.


Without civility, we become not merely savage (eg, the bullying of bus monitor Karen Klein), but accepting of — and inured to — savagery. We adapt and learn to avoid those who disagree or challenge us, right when we could be learning from each other. We reTweet for respect because it's far easier to press the RT icon than to actually practice civility — day-to-day and face-to-face — with that colleague or neighbor who irks us because their beliefs run antithetical to our own.


Glibly we talk about love ("our hearts and prayers go out to..."), about coming together as an American family, and embrace each other at candelight vigils for the dead, but we won't afford each other the most common courtesies in the routine run of a day. (Or, as a friend of mine put it: "Given the guys I work with, sometimes it's like death by douchebag.")


Basic courtesy is a rational act of love — for yourself, your self-respect, as a functional villager. It's an act of love for your fellow villager, your family, your community. So while reTweeting for respect and sharing anti-violence memes on Facebook, why not ramp up a couple other actions?


Hold the door open for someone else. Give up your seat on the subway to someone who maybe needs it more. Don't walk away from the copier with the paper jam you just caused. React to inflammatory behaviors with restraint, not insult or denigration. Understand that someone who disagrees with your opinion likely has an intensely personal experience of the same issue — and that is worth respecting. Choose not to shun, goad, provoke, or even to raise your voice. Articulate your disagreement not with name-calling, but with facts, figures, compassion, and a desire to learn more. If you're active on social media, curate diverse points of view, not merely rallying those who agree with you. Become the example, because we really need good leaders right now.

It takes nothing to be kind. The alternative is far more costly: if July 20 in Aurora, Colorado, taught us anything, it's that the ultimate WMD may be a single human being, existing in isolation, fully alive only when online, twisted by rage and illness.

7 Habits of Exceptional Leaders

7. 

He understands the expertise and accolades that got him into his current position aren't the same skillset needed to be effective in the new leadership position.

6.

She practices the regular "walkabout" to learn how employees live out the work day. 

This is not to check on them, but to enhance relationships and understanding. 

(Ever work for a boss who holed up in her office all day and never appeared except to impart reproaches and bad news?)

5. 

He never forgets that his walk will far outweigh his talk. 

Smart leaders know that employees are more likely to be guided by 

close observations of the boss's actions. 

(Ever work for a manager who insisted on courteous behavior towards customers, then denigrated staff for minor transgressions? Pontificated about punctuality and a high work ethic, only to habitually come in late and leave early for personal reasons?)

4.

She's unfailingly courteous. She — or her proxies — promptly return calls and email. 

She's not so besotted with her own position that the basic thank-you note 

has fallen beneath her, and even if she's the most powerful person at the conference table, she will thank others for their time.

3. 

He constantly works at becoming a better listener.

Effective leaders will listen fully to your point of view, even if they disagree.

2.

She knows how to turn stated values into daily habits — 

not merely for her organization, but for herself first.

And the #1:

He's not so arrogant that he dismisses professional opinions and advisory from staff, 

at the same time he's seeking the same from peers, experts, specialists, and consultants.

What about you? 

Which qualities do you find most inspiring or engaging among the great leaders you've known? As a leader yourself, what works for you in motivating staff?

Where is your outrage?

Where was the public outcry—the outrage?

(Gretchen Morgenson, financial reporter, author of Reckless Endangerment, speaking on public reaction to Fannie Mae financial misconduct)

The opinions expressed below are mine alone: this is not a political blog, but I felt this detour needed to be taken. This needs to be said.

We Americans have become frightened of outrage: we assume it leads to violence. Currently, we’re tired and easily overwhelmed. We’re not merely physically exhausted, trying to dog-paddle our way through this economy, we’re also morally and spiritually worn out, having to witness the unscrupulous or self-serving behaviors around us.

Apathy is a placeholder emotion for extreme anger. Apathy makes passivity easier to handle—“I’m not doing anything about it because frankly I could care less”—yet the anger remains. It’s that sick feeling you experience when you read about another corrupt or inept leader, another convicted felon finagling the legal system to protect his own rights, another innocent victim.

There are people in the world doing wrong with complete impunity: Joseph Kony…Jeff Neely and his cronies at the GSA…perhaps, local to you, the director of a local school or nonprofit who’s using a discretionary slush fund to pay for his next family vacation. We don’t have to like it, and we can do something about it.

Let them know you are not going to put up with it. Blind, frantic outrage leads to violence. And then there's intelligent outrage. I say there’s nothing wrong with the latter. Outrage doesn’t have to lead to violence but to an expression of our rights and beliefs, supported by what Stéphane Hessel calls “a determined will.” How you choose to express your outrage is up to you, but intelligent outrage must bring people together around problem-solving—not divide, shame, or commit further violence against others.

We Americans were not intended to become well-heeled sheep, but to find our way through civil discourse and protest. This was supposed to be the land of solutions and remedies, not disgusted bystanders.

Next month: No more excuses—what to do with your outrage

Top 10 reasons why listening matters to human beings

10.

Careful listening saves people and organizations from making mistakes,
committing embarrassments, creating needless conflict, and
becoming encumbered by destructive barriers.

9.

The commitment to listening fosters learning.

8.

It encourages others to listen to us.
Human beings often need to be heard before they can hear. By listening, you earn your right to be listened to. We can actually help others become better listeners by modeling the behaviors ourselves.

7.

 Listeners have more power and impact on others than most people realize.

Good listeners have advantages.

6.

By listening, you’re not merely taking in data and info, but also bearing witness to another’s expression or interpretation.

5.

Being listened to fortifies our sense of self, clarifies our thinking,
helps us discover how we feel, and nourishes our sense of self-worth.

(Not being heard, never being listened to, saps our vitality     and enthusiasm for life.)

4.

Becoming a good listener gives us the power to foster positive change and

to transform relationships.

3.

Credibility is more important than slickness or glibness.
The best talkers are often not the best listeners.

2.

The best listeners often make the best leaders/managers.

The best conversationalists are often the best listeners.

And the Number 1 Reason...

The quality of listening in our lives—how well we listen, how well we’re listened to—shapes choice and character, in both the speaker and the listener.
Ultimately, it has the power to shape our quality of life.

Next week: How do good listeners gain advantages?

Why the Netflix Price Increase Even Rates as News

It's easy to see why Netflix has been a best-loved service: their price is good, they pick up on your preferences and try to customize choice lists, and (when my kid experienced a DVD delivery mishap) they're quick to respond and remedy. They were "reasonable" in every positive sense of the word.

That was 24 hours ago. Right now, Netflix's blog has capped out at 5,000 irate customer comments in response to their 7/13/11 price change. Their Facebook page has roughly 1,000 "likes" and over 50,000 irate customer comments ranging from "Cancelled" and "U Suck" to "How dare you treat your loyal customers this way; we helped you build your business."

"It's only entertainment," you might say. This is true. But it's really a story about relationship.

Consider the context in which Netflix made this change:

• The recession. Enough said.

• A general confounded public frustration with politics, especially as party leaders and Obama try to negotiate on the debt ceiling with — so far — a profound lack of progress. With this change, Netflix just joined the ranks of those inchoate external forces who, in perception if not reality, is making life harder for the consumer. Perception becomes reality.

• The state of Minnesota is in shutdown, months after the same thing nearly happened to the entire nation. Just when we thought we'd narrowly skirted that disaster, Minnesota's plight reminds us it's entirely possible still, especially as debt ceiling talks stumble on.

At the very least, instead of sending out stoic messages explaining a far more complicated price increase, Netflix could've tried to look pained at even having to make the change at all ("We know this will hurt but here's why we too have felt the economic times in which we all live"). If it's going to pain your customers, it had better pain you twice as much. And if it doesn't, at least try to fake it. Bring them on board as sympathetic partners.

In the end, this 60% increase is still less than $20/month, but Netflix forgot a few things:

• In a recession, people not only invest loyalties in but maintain affection for organizations that provide flexible, understanding solutions. Customers deserted Blockbuster and went to Netflix in droves, in part because of the recession's pinch, but also because Blockbuster's policies felt punitive by comparison.

• Movie escapism got Americans through the Depression; all we did was change technology and modality, but the emotional reasons are still the same.

• In a recession, people will keep searching for alternatives. If they find you objectionable, they'll settle for "good enough," rather than maintain a relationship in which they feel badly betrayed. Real or perceived, Netflix is coming off as motivated by simple corporate greed, and after years of corporate calamities like the BP oil crisis, the Fannie Mae debacle, bank failures, company bailouts, and stories of happily overpaid CEOs, the U. S. public is sick and tired of corporate and legislator greed.

Netflix wore the white hat — until now: No matter how well-justified this new plan, they were asking for a 60% rate increase. It doesn't matter if you're shining shoes or providing electricity: a 60% increase is going to raise comments, and those are only the customers who feel like speaking up. Only 20% usually do; the rest simply change, walk away mad, and talk bad about you behind your back, not to your face (partly why I repeat this credo to my clients — "a complaint is a gift") ...

Potential Netflix customers will be asking colleagues, neighbors, fishing buddies: "So, Joe, you were with Netflix. Did you like them? You don't? What are you doing instead?"

The fact is, with this debacle, all the negative reporting on Netflix's poorly handled price increase has given free and positive word-of-mouth to their competitors, at their cost.

The Dignity Domino

Security expert Gavin De Becker first introduced this term in his 1997 book, The Gift of Fear, urging employers to “prop up with courtesy and understanding” that bit of personal dignity in each employee, especially ones facing termination.

           

Young, broke, and eager to master his writing, John Steinbeck considered his options with a teacher’s advice to live in Europe: “Over there poverty is considered a misfortune. Here in America it’s considered shameful.”

Through no fault of our own, this recession has put a great many of us into a valley of shame—lengthy unemployment, debt, collections, notice of insufficient funds, foreclosure—all the scary harbingers of personal ruin.

            As this economy slowly turns around, more and more I get called to speak on matters involving workplace civility and dealing effectively with difficult customers. No surprise. As pressures mount, people are finding it harder to maintain calm, patience, and understanding; they’re knotted up with fear—fear of foreclosure, fear of collections, fear of losing their jobs.

            There’s nothing revolutionary about providing superior customer service during a slow economic recovery. It’s simple.

            Protect your customer’s dignity domino.

            Don’t embarrass the customer in front of others.

            No matter how sacred your policies are, don’t embarrass the customer in front of their own children (or employees). Recall the grocery scene from the old movie, “Terms of Endearment,” when a rude checkout clerk yells across the store, “She doesn’t have enough money!” — much to a young mother’s humiliation and to her children’s mortification.

            Emphasize that you’re aiming for a long-term relationship. How would you feel about remaining loyal to someone who throws you overboard at the first sign of trouble?

Don’t let your competitors beat you to it, in simply being kinder and more understanding to your customers. As a recent car commercial said, “This isn’t over for any of us until it’s over for all of us.” Until it ends, we’ll need to help each other, especially if we want to count on customer loyalties when households start to experience “disposable income.” They may condemn ruined buildings but the human spirit is strong, and people always, always, always remember how they were treated. 

Controlling Creative (Part 3 of 3)

I’m frequently asked, “How can you keep people from stealing your ideas?”

Answer: I can’t. In fact, I don’t even try, figuring that creativity and originality are muscles—what doesn’t get regularly used (by the habitual plagiarist) will become flaccid over time, but you can’t let those negatives keep you from striving to be creative and original, or from producing your ideas.

This is the last of three client examples that come to mind when talking about controlling creative.

Finally, there was Rich Chey, an Atlanta restaurant entrepeneur who wanted to start a chain of noodle shops where diners could choose from diverse mix of noodle and rice dishes from differing parts of Asia, with wait staff that could advise them fluently on the way each dish was prepared.

I’d already done a logo for him—Highland Bagel, formerly in Virginia-Highland—and was impressed by his blend of openness and practicality. It did not surprise me to learn he had an MBA from Wharton, where relational skills are a premium.

Once I was on his team, he trusted me, showed me his business plan, walked me around the restaurant site so I’d experience it as future patrons would, welcomed me into his home where he and I studied colors from Chinese watercolor scrolls so I could get a sense of his druthers, while my daughter, then a little kid, played catch with his wife. 

And here’s the thing about Rich: when I was developing the Doc Chey’s Noodle House logo, he never had me sign a non-disclosure form (it’s automatic with me and my clients that I work non-disclosure anyway). He gave me notes on each idea, but he never micro-managed me. Years later, whenever he staged a mock service to test new menu ideas, he’d invite me as part of the Doc Chey community.

It did not surprise me that Doc Chey’s had community dining tables, participated in charity events; that they welcomed walk-up, dressed-down patrons from the neighborhood, whose small children are always kindly accommodated; or when he and his partner came up with the additional “Peace/Love/Noodles” idea for the T-shirts.

And he always referred to the final logo as our logo.

Controlling Creative (Part 2 of 3)

I’m frequently asked, “How can you keep people from stealing your ideas?”

Answer: I can’t. In fact, I don’t even try, figuring that creativity and originality are muscles—what doesn’t get regularly used (by the habitual plagiarist) will become flaccid over time, but you can’t let those negatives keep you from striving to be creative and original, or from producing your ideas.

This is the second of three client examples come to mind when talking about controlling creative.

Donna, the self-made home decorating expert, had contrived an elaborate kit for helping  homemakers come up with just the right palette, textiles, and tschotkes for each room of their homes. I didn’t want to do this job—from the first I sensed something was wrong or, at least, not positive—but she worked in a client’s office and it would’ve been churlish to refuse her.

From the outset she was paranoid that this idea would be stolen, so rather than show me any business or marketing plans, she preferred to feed me discrete portions of the project and to micro-manage me, much as the CIA may handle a new operative of whom they’re not entirely sure.

At the end of the project she had me sign a complex disclaimer form, basically pledging to never try and steal her ideas, or to reveal any of it to others. I felt tempted to make jokes about how my entire life had waited for this brass ring, this home-decorating kit, but feared she’d take them seriously.

Not surprisingly, the kit never took off and I suspect it’s because to put something on the market, you have to be public about it, not guard it like the formula to Coca-Cola.

Controlling Creative (Part 1 of 3)

I’m frequently asked, “How do you keep people from stealing your ideas?”

Answer: I can’t. In fact, I don’t even try, figuring that creativity and originality are muscles—what doesn’t get regularly used (by the habitual plagiarist) will become flaccid over time, but you can’t let those negatives keep you from striving to be creative and original, or from producing your ideas.

Three client examples come to mind when talking about controlling creative.

Example 1: Troy wanted me to rip off—there’s no other way to put it—the Nike line, changing it to “Just do I. T.” The local VP of an international software firm, he figured any ensuing U. S. controversy would be excellent free advertising.

I said, “Troy, I’d like to continue working in my profession long after your time’s up at the minimum-security white-collar prison where they’ll be sending you for copyright violation.”

“So you’re not going to do this?” he asked.

“Not a chance in hell,” I said tactfully.

In Defense of Millennials

Even very recently, the elders could say [to the youths]: “You know, I have been young and you never have been old.” But today’s young people can reply: “You never have been young in the world I am young in, and you never can be.” . . . This break between generations is wholly new: it is planetary and universal.

— Margaret Mead

The myth: Millennials are materialistically brand-conscious.

Yeah, well, who made them aware of brands but their brand-loyal Boomer parents who were coming of age as consumers in the early 80s when designer jeans and labels were retail game-changers? And so what if this is true? Millennials were cultivated from a young age to recognize brands and to stay loyal to those companies that stand behind their products. Brand names also provide social code for peer recognition, and this is a generation that grew up on divorced parents and blended families. Identifying and having one's own tribe outside the family home is important to these folks.

The myth: Millennials aren't very driven or hardworking.

Wrong again. They simply approach work differently, often without a lot of fanfare. They don't just go to libraries; they research online. Laptop keyboards don't make as much noise as Smith-Corona typewriters. During my daughter's adolescence I learned that she did indeed get lots of work done but I just wouldn't see most of it being done. Millennial brains are wired for complexity and they have rich internal lives of imagination and creativity. If Boomers lived in an external world of social change and civil rights upheaval, Millennials live in a digital world with a virtual wire to their brains—downloading music, surfing the Web for viral videos (which they then post on Facebook), social networking, online group events, digital communications, and digital learning. They're not merely consumers, these guys want to create! so anyone who offers them a rich, multi-media Web site experience with lots of interactivity is going to win them over (hello, institutions of higher learning; not just The Gap).

The myth: Millennials are spoiled with entitled attitudes. They expect to be rich, successful, and powerful before they're 30. (And its geezer corollary: In my day, we worked the grunt jobs and were grateful to have them!...We paid our dues, dammit).

But wouldn't you have this expectation as well, if the big hitters of your generation were Mark Zuckerberg (born 1984) and the two guys who invented YouTube (Chad Hurley and Steve Chen, both born in the late 70s)? Millennials have been shown the road to epic success at an early age, and it didn't necessarily involve a band (such as what inspired Boomers). Instead they could conceive of creating a killer app, selling it to Google for millions, and thus become a social networking legend by age 40, like that "old guy" Joi Ito (born 1966).

A final myth: Millennials care only about themselves. They won't volunteer for the environment, for civil rights, or for socio-political change.

Think again. It's just a difference in style and approach. Maybe their Boomer parents protested at peace rallies, handed out pro-choice flyers, and stuck flowers into the barrels of National Guard rifles. Millennials are seeking social solutions that will also work as a lifestyle—ie, do good and get paid for it; don't just volunteer once a week for it, make a life out of it. One example of this is Blake Mycoskie (born in the late 70s) who calls himself CEO and Chief Shoe Giver of TOMS Shoes, which he started on the premise that for every pair the consumer purchases, one pair will be given to a child growing up barefoot in places like the mean streets of Argentina.

Are there slacker Millennials? Of course: after all, there were bogus Boomers who rode the zeitgeist for self-gain (most egregiously, Charlie Manson, who is 81, or Ira Einhorn, 71). But just as Millennials detest traditional media experiences, they're also creating their lives—and refashioning our world—through means we don't yet recognize. But that doesn't mean it's poorly conceived or ill-fated.

Do you really care if your CEO arrives by Rolls Royce or skateboard?

When Bob Dylan Turned 70: From Boomers to Gen Y

Recently I've been doing research on the best media mixes for generational marketing so it felt especially poignant when it was reported on May 24 that Bob Dylan turned 70. At 69, Paul Simon is not far behind. Joan Baez turned 70 last winter, with Crosy, Stills, Nash and Young each preparing to pass from 60somethings through the golden arches to 70. 

I wonder if Bob Dylan's 70 was a sobering—if not scary—moment for most Boomers. The first wave of Boomers is scheduled to hit 65 this year. Had she lived, Janis Joplin would've been 68 last January.

This is the generation who continues to believe they're cool, into uniquely cool things, and that most messaging is either about them or for them. Seeing Dylan turn 70 couldn't have been easy, because mathematical logic then dictates we're really in our 50s and 60s. The generation that grew up crying, "Make a difference! Change the world! Imagine the possibilities!" now also says "Make the doctor's appointment! Change the progressives! Imagine cortisone shots to ease the pain!"—so, no surprise demographers and marketers believe Boomers will transform the concept of "old age."

Boomers' children are the Gen Y lot—the Millennials, or anyone born 1982 to 2000. Reportedly, these kids are problematic, characterized as spoiled, not very motivated or hardworking, with big entitlement issues for their own lives (eg, CEO's office by age 32, making millions, with luxury cars and killer toys).

I think they're transforming all our concepts about work.

Consequently, I also think they've been given a bad paint job, probably by bitterly resentful Boomers who took a superficial read on these kids. If the Boomer question for life had been "Is it meaningful?" most Millennials tend to ask "Is it fun?" This can make them seem supercilious, until you examine their particular meaning of "fun."

Next week: In defense of Millennials

Qualities of a Good Project Manager (PM)

For many salespeople, the selling cycle doesn't stop once the purchase order is issued. Salespeople must then shepherd the project forward to completion. Projects that go well strengthen relationships with customers and lead to future sales. Projects that bump along from start to finish cause the customer to question your expertise and their decision to buy. To please the client, what does it take?

• Know how to set expectations, understand quality standards, and how quality is achieved. (This also means you understand “quality does not equal perfection”).

• You must be knowledgeable about the skills and capabilities of others in the production process so that work is appropriately delegated (square pegs to square holes). A good PM understands he’s working with professionals (not children or criminals) and that production process parts are interdependent.

• Be fearless about asking questions, and persist in hammering out process and alternative process details, especially when tensions are running high, and people are impatient to leave the discussion, or to gloss over details in their effort to escape unpleasantness.

• Be prepared to handle contingencies — “if this happens, then we’ll do that” — always holding Plan B (C, D, or E) in readiness.

• Clients love organized and efficient salespeople who pride themselves on maintaining those skills and habits. By nature of the job, a salesperson/project manager has to be more organized than anyone else because he/she maintains overview on all jobs, and thus all details—especially those emphasized by the client.

• Strong project management depends upon excellent analytical skills—skilled at deconstructing project concepts to block out production needs, good with details, vigilant with evolving expenses, and the professional maturity to understand that every detail has an attached cost within your company.