Scott Monty | Timeless and Timely

The Humanity of the Pickle Barrel

<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j9l2NMH__hs/YJyyY3QjJHI/AAAAAAABTkM/IuJfW0Gu0kg2sI9oFfJOMghiLEjcN_zSgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1024/Doris%2BLee%2B-%2BGeneral_store_and_post_office.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="1024" height="338" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j9l2NMH__hs/YJyyY3QjJHI/AAAAAAABTkM/IuJfW0Gu0kg2sI9oFfJOMghiLEjcN_zSgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h338/Doris%2BLee%2B-%2BGeneral_store_and_post_office.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photograph of mural <strong><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:General_store_and_post_office_24943v.jpg">General store and post office</a></strong> by Doris Lee at the Ariel Rios Federal Building, Washington, D.C. (Carol M. Highsmith Archive, Library of Congress via Wikimedia Commons)</span></em></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="captioned-image-container" data-pm-context="[]"><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"><br /></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“One machine can do the work of fifty ordinary men. No machine can do the work of one extraordinary man.” </strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Elbert Hubbard, 1911</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>You need a pickle barrel.<br /><br />Not because you need to eat more vegetables (although your mom would still insist you do). But because you need more intimate and personal conversations.</p><p>I grew up in a small town in Connecticut — the kind with a town green and a white-steepled church, population 10,000. And I remember going with my mom or dad to the bank and the post office, and the teller or clerk behind the counter would know them by name. They might even ask how I was doing in school or on my baseball team.</p><p>It seems like a data-driven fantasy now, but those were the days when you didn’t need three forms of ID to pick up your mail or make a withdrawal. It was the way business was done.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>Going back a few generations, the general store was a center of small-town life, where citizens would go for supplies.</p><p>But more than being simply a retail shop, it was a place to see fellow residents, swap stories, and even hear some gossip over the pickle barrel — a large, wooden barrel where pickles floated in brine and you picked one out. Typically, there was someone seated nearby, just watching, or maybe playing checkers.</p><p>They knew you; you knew them. Maybe they’d strike up a conversation with you. Or make a remark to the clerk behind the counter.</p><p>It felt like an extension of family. When you walked away from the general store, you felt like a person and not a number.</p><p>Outside of interacting with a small business, when is the last time you had a brand experience like that?</p><p>These days, we’re left to felt like we’re a statistic or a cog in a system. Two forms of ID, login, and an encrypted password later, we're left feeling positively inhuman.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><br />“We want a lot of engineers in the modern world, but we do not want a world of engineers.”</strong> </em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>— Winston Churchill, 1948<br /><br /></em></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>We were told that the great promise of social media was that it had the potential to bring back the humanity in business. In its earliest days, we heralded the opportunity to have conversations with customers, to get feedback from them directly, and to create 1:1 (or at least 1:few) interactions.</p><p>And yet…  Where do we stand with that progress?</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label></div><h3 style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: large;">Every time a new social platform opens up, it falls prey to marketers. Where’s the humanity?</span></em></h3><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"><br /></pre></div><p>Now, I don’t begrudge a company from making money, and there are few options for social networks that don’t include some sort of advertising, but it somehow feels like Groundhog Day.</p><p>The internet has been around for two decades, and yet we’re seeing the same kinds of advertising that were prevalent when television was introduced. There has to be a better way.</p><p>Aside from platforms, advertisers themselves are under pressure with a huge increase in the use of ad blocking technology particularly Apple’s new privacy feature that explicitly asks iPhone users whether an app should be allowed to track them across the other apps and sites that they use.</p><p>The interruptive and annoying user experience is angering consumers, and they’re increasingly making the decision to install software to prevent advertising from taking over their browsing experience.</p><p>And now they have a way to withhold their data.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“The real problem of humanity is the following: we have Paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions, and godlike technology.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Edward O. Wilson, 2009</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>The point of all of this is that while advertising is still a necessary part of the content ecosystem online, marketing leaders need to find a better way to meet the expectations of consumers.</p><p>The decades-old, twice-broken model of advertising is outdated — the interruptive model didn’t work for television, and it made its way to the internet, and eventually to social media.</p><p>We need to wake up to the need for human interaction and stories.</p><p>Simply advertising to them is lazy. Perhaps it means a more hands-on style with a focus on community management in addition to paid media. There’s value in creating connections and leveraging relationships, especially when we have products and services that people genuinely care about or want to tell others about.</p><p>We’re on the precipice of losing the opportunity to create the long-promised personalized content that never seemed to materialize. If we want to create an emotional connection with consumers and leave a lasting impact, mass marketing is no longer the way forward.</p><p>We need to show the humanity behind the brand and demonstrate an interest in connecting with consumers the way <em>they</em> want to engage.</p><p>Then maybe we’ll be able to reclaim the pickle barrel conversations.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><div><hr /></div><h1>Coming Up</h1><br />The next guest on the <a href="https://pod.link/timeless">Timeless Leadership</a> podcast is Tom Peters. Tom’s name is synonymous with excellence, and his latest book is a look at the urgency of excellence in how we show up as humans.<br /><br />Join us at noon EDT on Thursday, May 13 on <a href="https://firesidechat.com/scottmonty">Fireside Chat</a>.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nSdf6fgRVx8/YJyy8aRecII/AAAAAAABTkU/uuS_6UdxaPoX2Caq9Rwtj0Vclg404fqngCLcBGAsYHQ/s1080/Humanity.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nSdf6fgRVx8/YJyy8aRecII/AAAAAAABTkU/uuS_6UdxaPoX2Caq9Rwtj0Vclg404fqngCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h400/Humanity.png" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><hr /><br /></div></div></div><div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">If you don’t yet <strong><a href="https://pod.link/timeless" style="color: #007abe; text-decoration-line: none;">subscribe to the podcast</a></strong>, please do so today. </p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Thanks, and I’ll see you on the internet. </p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><hr /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br />👉 Premium Members receive an additional related essay, plus curated links and stories, and audio and book recommendations every Friday. 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The Humanity of the Pickle Barrel

Photograph of mural General store and post office by Doris Lee at the Ariel Rios Federal Building, Washington, D.C. (Carol M. Highsmith Ar...

Communicate with Simplicity and Emotion

<div class="captioned-image-container" data-pm-context="[]"><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"><em><strong><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Karel_Dujardin_-_Boy_Blowing_Soap_Bubbles._Allegory_on_the_Transitoriness_and_the_Brevity_of_Life_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cTFYa0M-c4c/YJNc_J5iClI/AAAAAAABTfw/9-JgJAdVdQ4XhDCu1VzFmfIvfIgreS6nACLcBGAsYHQ/s829/Karel_Dujardin_-_Boy_Blowing_Soap_Bubbles._Allegory_on_the_Transitoriness_and_the_Brevity_of_Life_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="581" data-original-width="829" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cTFYa0M-c4c/YJNc_J5iClI/AAAAAAABTfw/9-JgJAdVdQ4XhDCu1VzFmfIvfIgreS6nACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/Karel_Dujardin_-_Boy_Blowing_Soap_Bubbles._Allegory_on_the_Transitoriness_and_the_Brevity_of_Life_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><strong><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Karel_Dujardin_-_Boy_Blowing_Soap_Bubbles._Allegory_on_the_Transitoriness_and_the_Brevity_of_Life_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg">Boy Blowing Soap Bubbles. Allegory on the Transitoriness and the Brevity of Life</a></strong> by Karel Dujardin, 1663 (public domain)</span></em></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></a></strong></em></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Brevity is the sister of talent.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Anton Chekov, 1889</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>Quick: who spoke before Abraham Lincoln at Gettysburg?</p><p>If you said Edward Everett, then well done. You’re either a student of history or a devotee of trivia.</p><p>Everett was a noted orator of the time, an educator and pastor, and a politician who inhabited such offices as U.S. Representative, U.S. Senator, and Governor of Massachusetts.</p><p>Such were the qualifications that made him a featured orator at the dedication of Gettysburg National Cemetery, where he spoke for two hours.</p><p>Now, more to the point: what did Everett say in his speech?</p><p>Accounts of his speech that day say that he relived the battle and renounced the enemy, moving the audience to tears.</p><p>And yet, no one remembers what he said.</p><p>President Lincoln, on the other hand, gave one of the shortest speeches of his life and though he self-effacingly included the line “the world will little note nor long remember what we say here,” it is literally etched in stone for posterity.</p><p>Just 272 words in length, it took Lincoln approximately two minutes to read.</p><p>And it still resides in our lexicon today.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><div><hr /></div><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: 700;"><br /></span></div><em><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>“One should use common words to say uncommon things.”</strong> </em></div></em><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Arthur Schopenhauer</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>If only we could follow Lincoln’s example more frequently. We don’t because simplicity is difficult. It takes effort.</p><p>Either we don’t have the time to dedicate to crafting better communications, or we’re lazy.</p><p>Think about every app you’ve downloaded. Have you read through <strong><a href="https://www.visualcapitalist.com/terms-of-service-visualizing-the-length-of-internet-agreements/">the terms of service of each</a></strong> in their entirety?</p><p>I’d wager you didn’t—just like 97% of Americans.</p><p>And why would you? The shortest (Instagram) clocks in at 2,451 words, which would take you nine minutes and 42 seconds to read. To yourself, not out loud (assuming 240 words per minute).</p><p>For comparison, the code of Hammurabi is 6,390 words long. The U.S. Constitution is 4,543 words.</p><p>TikTok’s terms take 31 minutes and 24 seconds to read — that’s 130 times longer than the average length of <a href="https://danslee.co.uk/2020/01/21/clipped-i-watched-the-100-best-tiktok-videos-to-find-the-optimum-length-of-a-clip/">the top 100 performing videos</a>.</p><p>The longest? That honor belongs to Microsoft, whose terms last 15,260 and would take you one hour, three minutes and 30 seconds to read. </p><p>It’s almost as if the lawyers for these companies <em>don’t</em> want you to read their finely crafted prose.</p><p>Although I’ll hand it to LinkedIn—they have plain language explanations alongside the legalese.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><h2><strong>Hold Your Audience</strong></h2><p>Part of Lincoln’s skill was in his ability to connect with his audiences. He was plainspoken and used examples that were simultaneously elegant yet simple.</p><p>He had the uncanny ability to identify what his audiences were thinking and feeling, and he told stories that connected.</p><p>After a campaign speech in New Hampshire on March 2, 1860, a reporter wrote, “Mr. Lincoln spoke nearly two hours and we believe he would have held his audience had he spoken all night.”</p><p>If we could only hold our audiences for a fraction of that time.</p><p>Make it simple. Make it connect.<br /><br /></p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"></pre></div><div><hr /></div><h1><strong>Coming Up</strong></h1><p>If you missed the live recording of <em><strong><a href="https://pod.link/timeless/episode/26a513119a48fd9f6556b4073e5a296b">Timeless Leadership</a></strong></em> on <a href="https://firesidechat.com/scottmonty" target="_blank">Fireside Chat</a> with my guest Tamsen Webster, author of <em><strong><a href="https://amzn.to/2QMNhp1">Find Your Red Thread: Make Your Big Ideas Irresistible</a></strong></em>, you can find it on your podcast player of choice.</p><p><iframe src="https://www.listennotes.com/embedded/e/99ae757591164dc6863892d9941f1377/" height="170px" width="100%" style="width: 1px; min-width: 100%;" loading="lazy" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe><br /></p><p></p><p>If you don’t yet <strong><a href="https://pod.link/timeless">subscribe to the podcast</a></strong>, please do so today. <a class="button primary" href="https://pod.link/timeless">Subscribe to Timeless Leadership</a></p><p>Thanks, and I’ll see you on the internet. </p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><hr /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br />👉 Premium Members receive an additional related essay, plus curated links and stories, and audio and book recommendations every Friday. And now, we're adding more audio content to the list! Join the club by signing up below:</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://www.timelesstimely.com/embed" style="background: white; border: 1px solid #EEE;" width="480"></iframe></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><br /></p>

Communicate with Simplicity and Emotion

Boy Blowing Soap Bubbles. Allegory on the Transitoriness and the Brevity of Life by Karel Dujardin, 1663 (public domain) “Brevity is the si...

The Social Element of Humor

<p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gShWGvyvdZ4/YIl43VR3bjI/AAAAAAABTZA/1B53frpt7x8GLPeXN407SBQMxLpwFWHbACLcBGAsYHQ/s1200/Jan%2BMatejko%2B-%2BSta%25C5%2584czyk.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="898" data-original-width="1200" height="478" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gShWGvyvdZ4/YIl43VR3bjI/AAAAAAABTZA/1B53frpt7x8GLPeXN407SBQMxLpwFWHbACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h478/Jan%2BMatejko%2B-%2BSta%25C5%2584czyk.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jan_Matejko,_Sta%C5%84czyk.jpg">Stańczyk</a> </em><span style="text-align: left;">by Jan Matejko, (public domain - Wikimedia Commons)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— W.H. Auden, 1963 </em>[<a href="https://ctt.ac/W0d9e">Tweet this quote</a>]</div><br /><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />Has anything funny happened to you in the past week?</p><p>Maybe it was a video you watched online, something a friend said to you, or even something about yourself that you laughed about.</p><p>But consider this: how much of that laughter occurred in the company of others?</p><p>Humor, like air, cannot exist in a vacuum. It needs fellow humans to exist. Even if you laugh at a pet, you may be reacting to a certain human-like expression or quality you perceive in it.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>Henri Bergson, in his book <em><strong><a href="https://amzn.to/3gSuliW">Laughter: An Essay on the Meaning of the Comic</a></strong></em>,  makes the case for humor as a shared experience:</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label></div><blockquote><p>“A man who was once asked why he did not weep at a sermon, when everybody else was shedding tears, replied, “I don’t belong to the parish!” What that man thought of tears would be still more true of laughter. However spontaneous it seems, laughter always implies a kind of secret freemasonry, or even complicity, with other laughers, real or imaginary. How often has it been said that the fuller the theater, the more uncontrolled the laughter of the audience!”</p></blockquote><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>That secret society—that tacit shared experience—gives us a sense of security, a feeling of relief that our fellow members and friends understand why we’re laughing. More than that, they understand <em>us</em>.</p><p>And we all want to be <a href="https://lnns.co/1fQqrZem7Fo">understood</a>.</p><p><br /><iframe frameborder="0" height="300px" loading="lazy" scrolling="no" src="https://www.listennotes.com/embedded/e/ab69ef164a094967b9b80d86029f3df8/" style="min-width: 100%; width: 1px;" width="100%"></iframe></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{"url":"https://lnns.co/1fQqrZem7Fo","text":"Timeless Leadership: Understanding","class":null}"><br /></p><p></p><h2><strong>Don’t Make Me Laugh</strong></h2><p>Have you ever tried to stifle your laughter when you were in a social situation that required solemnity? In a classroom, in church, or maybe <a href="https://youtu.be/TJny78bpsgo">at a funeral service</a>?</p><p>Invariably, you were with other people. People with whom you had a shared affection and who could understand why you might be laughing.</p><p>Throughout the pandemic, we’ve experienced various degrees of social isolation. Some have been cut off from members of their family for long periods of time. Many have been working from home. And this isolation means we don’t have the same opportunity to love and laugh together.</p><p>Video calls have provided a modicum of solace for that communal feeling, but the digital doppelgangers we see on the screen are merely bits and bytes masquerading as their carbon counterparts. Not to mention the inevitable screen fatigue we’ve experienced.</p><p>In short, we need to be in each other’s company again to experience the laughter and joy that was once taken for granted.</p><div><br /><hr /></div><p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><br />“Well, humor is the great thing, the saving thing, after all.”</strong></em></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Mark Twain</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /><br /></div><h2><strong>Humor at Work</strong></h2><p>There’s a place for humor at work. We don’t need to be serious constantly.</p><p>Being funny at work isn’t as much about a quip or witty remark as it is about lightheartedness. When we find shared moments of levity, we develop a closer bond with those who are with us.</p><p>However, humor doesn’t work when it is directed at someone else like an individual or a group of people. A cutting remark that uses someone else as the punchline or the target of a joke is not a joke at all.</p><p>One of the shared values at Ford in my time there was:</p><h4 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Enjoy the journey and each other; have fun—<em>never at others’ expense</em>.”</span></h4><div class="preformatted-block"><span style="font-size: medium;"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label></span><pre class="text" style="text-align: center;"> </pre></div><p>When someone says something offensive and others react with shock or horror, you may have witnessed the knee-jerk, self-protective reaction: “It was a joke!” or “Can’t you take a joke?”</p><p>If you have to explain that something is a joke or you criticize the reaction to it, it’s not a joke.</p><p>Humor works best when it is shared. [<strong><a href="https://ctt.ac/GAE7R">Tweet this</a></strong>]</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“To understand laughter, we must put it back into its natural environment, which is society, and above all must we determine the utility of its function, which is a social one.” </strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Henri Bergson, 1900</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /><br /></div><h2><strong>Misplaced Humor</strong></h2><p>Earlier this week, the CEO of Basecamp posted <strong><a href="https://world.hey.com/jason/changes-at-basecamp-7f32afc5">a memo aimed at internal culture</a></strong> (posted publicly for all to see) that has since come under fire. On the surface, it seems to be representative of the debate about corporate “wokeness”.</p><p>However, <strong><a href="https://www.theverge.com/2021/4/27/22406673/basecamp-political-speech-policy-controversy">according to a deeper investigation</a></strong>, it goes beyond the political and edges into humor: employees say the founders’ memos unfairly depicted their workplace as being riven by partisan politics, when in fact the main source of the discussion had always been Basecamp itself.</p><p>It started with a list of “funny” customer names in 2009. Fast forward to today:</p><blockquote><p>“More than a decade later, current employees were so mortified by the practice that none of them would give me a single example of a name on the list…Many of the names were of American or European origin. But others were Asian, or African, and eventually the list — titled “Best Names Ever” — began to make people uncomfortable.</p></blockquote><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>Life in 2021 is different than it was in 2009, and there are forms of behavior, in the workplace as well as in social life, that are less acceptable or tolerable than they once were.</p><blockquote><p>“In a response to Hansson’s post, one employee noted that the way we treat names — especially foreign names — is deeply connected to social and racial hierarchies… The point was that dehumanizing behavior begins with very small actions, and it did not seem like too much to ask Basecamp’s founders to acknowledge that.”</p></blockquote><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>Our smallest actions indicate our deepest beliefs. When we think something isn’t important or we use the emotional write-off “it’s just a joke,” we’re denying the dignity of others.</p><p>Always remember the golden rule of humor in the workplace:</p><p>Never at others’ expense. [<strong><a href="https://ctt.ac/0D3z6">Tweet this</a></strong>]</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /><br /></div><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"></pre></div><h1><strong>Coming Up</strong></h1><p>If you’re not yet subscribed to <em><strong>Timeless & Timely</strong></em>, here's your chance: right now, <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/subscribe?coupon=93b84ca0" target="_blank">Premium membership is FREE for 60 days</a>.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>Tomorrow, in the live recording of <em><strong><a href="https://pod.link/timeless">Timeless Leadership</a></strong></em>, I’ll be chatting with <strong><a href="https://www.keepingithuman.com">Kathy Klotz-Guest</a></strong> on the topic of <strong>Humor</strong>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JdGHPbAz3rw/YIl620Vz8II/AAAAAAABTZI/IWmHZbOQwn8XABhXuBoUUi9ICLKvGAEzQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/This%2BWeek%2Bon%2BTimeless%2BLeadership%2B-%2BHumor.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JdGHPbAz3rw/YIl620Vz8II/AAAAAAABTZI/IWmHZbOQwn8XABhXuBoUUi9ICLKvGAEzQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h320/This%2BWeek%2Bon%2BTimeless%2BLeadership%2B-%2BHumor.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>We know humor when we see it, but it’s one of the most difficult forms of communication out there. We need to have fun together in the workplace, and Kathy is well-positioned to help us understand how to make it happen.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"><br /></pre></div><p>Join us at <strong>12 pm EDT</strong> on <strong>Thursday, April 29</strong> on <strong><a href="https://firesidechat.com/scottmonty">Fireside Chat</a></strong>.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text">  </pre></div><p>If you can’t make it to the live show, then please hit the subscribe button on the podcast player of your choice to <a class="button primary" href="https://pod.link/timeless">Subscribe to Timeless Leadership</a>.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>Thanks, and I’ll see you on the internet.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />
👉 Premium Members receive an additional related essay, plus curated links and stories, and audio and book recommendations every Friday. And now, we're adding more audio content to the list! Join the club by signing up below: </p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://www.timelesstimely.com/embed" style="background: white; border: 1px solid #EEE;" width="480"></iframe></p>

The Social Element of Humor

Stańczyk by Jan Matejko, (public domain - Wikimedia Commons) “Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but amo...

The Role of Wisdom: Information or Transformation?

<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3UooeSkOGk/YIBQjhwY7ZI/AAAAAAABTSo/KXEgojVkab0gvb22cMibzKDLkEfgvrYhACLcBGAsYHQ/s1280/Raphael%2B-%2BSchool%2Bof%2BAthens%2B%2528cropped%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="836" data-original-width="1280" height="418" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--3UooeSkOGk/YIBQjhwY7ZI/AAAAAAABTSo/KXEgojVkab0gvb22cMibzKDLkEfgvrYhACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h418/Raphael%2B-%2BSchool%2Bof%2BAthens%2B%2528cropped%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:%22The_School_of_Athens%22_by_Raffaello_Sanzio_da_Urbino.jpg" target="_blank">School of Athens</a></i>, fresco by Raphael, 1511 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><hr /><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><i><b>“Experience is not what happens to a man; it is what a man does with what happens to him.” </b></i></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><i>— Aldous Huxley, 1932</i></div><br /><p></p><hr /><p><br /></p><p>How do you define wisdom?</p><p>For thousands of years, wisdom has served as a topic of philosophical discussion. Like other complex and nuanced terms, it’s less easily defined than it is recognized.</p><p>That is, we can better understand wisdom when we see examples of it.</p><p>When we look to leaders to be examples to us, we’re tacitly seeking evidence of their wisdom through their decisions and communication. We then relay those anecdotes to others to share that wisdom and build confidence in our leaders.</p><p>Mitch Albom did this extraordinarily well in his bestseller <i><a href="https://amzn.to/3v6ZjYH" target="_blank">Tuesdays With Morrie</a></i>. He reconnected with an old professor of his, Morrie Schwartz, who was dying from ALS.</p><p>In a series of discussions over the course of less than a dozen visits, Morrie conveyed wisdom to Mitch in his observations about life and his ability to focus on what mattered. And Mitch shared those profound lessons with us in his book.</p><p>In that spirit, I came across an example that helps to convey wisdom. It’s from my friend and colleague Tom Morris, a public philosopher.</p><p>I’m not a philosopher myself, although I was philosophy-adjacent as a classics major. We dabbled in enough philosophy to get us by. So I respect and admire the work of true philosophers like Tom.</p><p>Tom posted something last week that I thought was a fine example of wisdom, and I asked his permission to share it here:</p><p> </p><h1 style="text-align: left;"><b>Tuesdays with Morris</b></h1><p>I once had a student who got really mad at me. He was a top schoolteacher who had won a prestigious grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities to come and study with me for a month, in the company of fourteen other carefully selected classroom legends from around the country.</p><p>Two weeks into the intensive seminar on “Faith, Reason, and the Meaning of Life,” he wrote me a very angry letter. It went something like this:</p><blockquote><p>“Professor Morris: We’re halfway through our time in your seminar on the meaning of life, and for some reason you won’t tell us the answer. Why are you withholding such an important thing? It’s not fair. It’s actually evil. Are you doing this for the sake of pedagogical drama? Is it a mind game thing? Do you want us to feel even more deeply dependent on you than we already are? Please stop with the keeping of secrets and just tell us the answer. We deserve to know.”</p></blockquote><p>I went right off to his dorm room and we talked for two hours, just the two of us. At the outset of our chat, he was extremely irate. By the end, he was not.</p><p>I used to be puzzled at why the famous epic poem <i>The Odyssey</i>, which is supposed to be about Odysseus and his ten-year attempt to get home after the Trojan War, opens up and spends maybe its first hundred pages on a story about his son Telemachus, back home in Ithaca instead of launching right into the main event.</p><p>The war itself took ten years. And now we’re approaching that length after it ended and still Odysseus still isn’t back home. Telemachus is afraid his father is dead. But he wants to know for sure.</p><p>The goddess Athena appears to him in disguise. She’s a good friend of Odysseus and knows everything that’s going on with him and his troubles in his ongoing efforts to reach home. She knows in particular that he’s alive. Telemachus asks her for the answer to this question.</p><p>But instead of telling him, she suggests he might get his answer if he goes on a dangerous trip to visit some other kings who know his father. They might have the answer he seeks. But of course she has that answer already.</p><p>So why does she suggest this hazardous trip instead of just giving him the answer he wants?</p><p>After reading this captivating tale at least a half dozen times, I came to a realization. Telemachus wants <b><i>information</i></b>. Athena knows he needs <b><i>transformation</i></b>.</p><p>So she sends him on a trip that will likely transform him from the young man he is, of little experience or confidence, into a seasoned adventurer, full of skill and assurance. This will make him capable of joining his father as a warrior and partner in new combat (remember: Odysseus returned from his wanderings and had to deal with an army of hostile suitors who sought the hand of his wife and have been devoured the wealth of his home and farms; they claimed he was dead and laid siege to her affections).</p><p>People who pay attention to Plato’s <i>Dialogues</i> featuring Socrates are often surprised at the endings of these stories. Socrates comes across someone who thinks he knows something important and is actually very confident in that purported knowledge.</p><p>The philosopher then begins to question him and dismantle his certainty. The man is led to realize he doesn’t know what he thinks he knows. What he believed to be true is false. But what is the relevant truth?</p><p>The dialogue typically ends without Socrates discovering what is true and revealing it so that it can be believed instead of the falsehood that has been unmasked.</p><p>Why?</p><p>Is reason after all just destructive and not constructive? Surely that can’t be the lesson we’re to learn.</p><p>Maybe Socrates isn’t doing his intellectual skeet shooting for the purpose of ridding the world of falsehoods and disclosing instead the related important truths to his conversation partners.</p><p>It could be that his intent is not primarily about true and false statements at all, or the facts in the world under dispute. Perhaps he sees his task not as providing information, but like Athena before him, transformation. He reduces arrogance to confusion, and sometimes even to intellectual humility and the subsequent open curiosity that alone can sprout from that fertile soil.</p><p>And that brings us back to my angry student.</p><p>I found out in our talk that the day he was to travel to our seminar, he had awakened to the absence of his girlfriend, his intended partner for life, and had found a note from her on the breakfast table, stating that she was leaving and that he was not to try to follow or contact her for any further explanations.</p><p>There surely had to be one, a reason or meaning to this, but she was going to withhold it from him, for whatever reason she must have had. And yet, he had to understand the meaning of this unexpected and traumatic event. He had to make sense of it.</p><p>He was confused and disoriented, and even greatly distraught when he had come to South Bend two weeks before he left me my own note. And I never knew what he had been through. He hadn’t said anything about it.</p><p>I listened and empathized and sought to give him emotional support. And then we came to our pedagogic or philosophical topic of contention.</p><p>Why was I withholding an explanation that I could surely give? Why was I being coy and maybe mysterious about the meaning he so desperately needed?</p><p>I tried to explain to this intense young man, operating near his wit’s end, that wisdom about life’s meaning, or the meaning of any particular event within it, may not come to us or consist in a simple linguistic statement or proposition that I could either reveal or withhold at will.</p><p>Sometimes our sense of meaning, like wisdom itself, is about perspective and discernment, and our experiences along with the learning that results from them can be transformative with respect to our perspectives without giving us a simple answer in the form of a declarative statement.</p><p>And when we do try to convey what we’ve learned in such a statement, it may sound trite or trivial and seem as insubstantial as the foam atop a big frosty mug of dark beer, when it’s the beer itself that’s needed.</p><p>Sometimes, like Socrates, we have to eliminate false certainties as a prelude to enlightenment. We may have to enter confusion as a prelude to illumination.</p><p>Those of us who have made this arduous transition many times ourselves, like Athena may have to respond to someone who asks a truth of us by sending him or her to go on a journey of transformation rather than giving any particular piece of information, which is after all not what’s most needed.</p><p>And often what we best accomplish is to invite that person to join us on our own journey of humility and curiosity and existential discovery that may go far beyond what any words could ever say on any topic at all.</p><p><br /></p><hr /><br /><p>Thank you for joining me on my journey. We’ve got more coming up later this week. Subscribe below to make sure you receive it.</p><p><br /></p><p>And thanks to Tom for the wonderful lesson on wisdom.</p><p><br /></p><hr /><br /><h2 style="text-align: left;"><b>Up Next</b></h2><p>More on wisdom and attention in Friday’s newsletter for our Premium members. Make sure you don't miss it.</p><p>And in the next live recording of <b><i>Timeless Leadership</i></b>, <a href="http://www.tomvmorris.com/" target="_blank">Tom Morris</a> will join us to help us think more about wisdom.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zoqENP0PtuM/YIB8Nf7LNDI/AAAAAAABTTI/FdaomfidZ60D6l-OICn8-5w3OajBYKzEwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/TomMorris.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="874" data-original-width="1500" height="233" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zoqENP0PtuM/YIB8Nf7LNDI/AAAAAAABTTI/FdaomfidZ60D6l-OICn8-5w3OajBYKzEwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h233/TomMorris.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>Throughout history, people have looked to leaders as fonts of wisdom. Sometimes the accolade is warranted, sometimes it's a false promise.</p><p>Why is wisdom important, and how is it different from knowledge? Can we ever make a claim to wisdom? How can we recognize wisdom in others?</p><p>Join the live show and participate in the discussion on <b><a href="https://firesidechat.com/scottmonty" target="_blank">Fireside Chat</a></b> on <b>Thursday, April 22</b> at <b>12 pm EDT</b>. Here’s <a href="https://calendar.google.com/event?action=TEMPLATE&tmeid=MDY5OG9ucG52M3Y1Z2IxMWxsaXVpNzk2YmIgc2NvdHRAc2NvdHRtb250eS5jb20&tmsrc=scott%40scottmonty.com" target="_blank">a link to put it in your calendar</a>.</p><p>If you can’t follow along live, you can get the <a href="https://smonty.co/timelesspod" target="_blank"><b><i>Timeless Leadership</i></b> podcast</a> wherever you typically listen.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_iBYmnvyfuw/YIB8pUuHI0I/AAAAAAABTTQ/1aXEFbOa2bEobiychBqEvJwo74Ub2eP2gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/Timeless%2BLeadership%2BBold.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_iBYmnvyfuw/YIB8pUuHI0I/AAAAAAABTTQ/1aXEFbOa2bEobiychBqEvJwo74Ub2eP2gCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h320/Timeless%2BLeadership%2BBold.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Thanks, and I’ll see you on the internet.</p><p><br /></p>
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The Role of Wisdom: Information or Transformation?

School of Athens , fresco by Raphael, 1511 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons) “Experience is not what happens to a man; it is what a man do...

Finding Hope

Finding Hope

A depiction of a phoenix by Friedrich Johann Justin Bertuch, 1806 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 3.0 ) “Afflictions sent by ...

Humility Can Seem Soft When Problems Are Hard

<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Et4xlk6TZEk/YG1d9Ay7EtI/AAAAAAABSqQ/OWVfv-JUIO4fnDX7tKo0ch8zXERPo6snQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Caravaggio%2B-%2BDavid%2Bwith%2Bthe%2BHead%2Bof%2BGoliath%252C%2B1610.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1314" data-original-width="1600" height="526" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Et4xlk6TZEk/YG1d9Ay7EtI/AAAAAAABSqQ/OWVfv-JUIO4fnDX7tKo0ch8zXERPo6snQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h526/Caravaggio%2B-%2BDavid%2Bwith%2Bthe%2BHead%2Bof%2BGoliath%252C%2B1610.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_with_the_Head_of_Goliath_(Caravaggio,_Rome)#/media/File:David_with_the_Head_of_Goliath-Caravaggio_(1610).jpg" style="text-align: left;">David with the Head of Goliath</a><span style="text-align: left;"> by Caravaggio, 1610 (public domain - Wikipedia, <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/1.0/">CC by 1.0</a>)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="captioned-image-container" data-pm-context="[]"><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"><br /></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><strong><br /></strong></p><div style="text-align: center;"><strong><strong>“</strong><em><strong>Humility is attentive patience.</strong></em><strong>”</strong><em> </em></strong></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Simone Weil (1940)</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>Humility is often considered a “soft” trait. Like kindness, vulnerability, empathy, and other non-quant skills.</p><p>But to categorize soft skills as not hard is missing the bigger picture. Such virtues are much more difficult to master, as they require not only behavioral change, but a deep understanding of oneself and, more importantly, of others.</p><p>The flip side of humility is hubris or pride. In a previous issue of <em><strong>Timeless & Timely</strong></em> (“<strong><a href="https://smonty.co/humility">Humility or Futility</a></strong>”), we acknowledged the slight difference in the definition of the terms: hubris meaning arrogance that gives offense to the gods, as the ancient Greeks believed, and pride being offensive to others.</p><p>And humility is a trait that is observed by others. It’s certainly not something about which a leader can brag. Leaders demonstrate humility in what they say and do, and in what they choose <em>not</em> to say and do.</p><p>It’s what is visible about you.</p><p>Whether it’s as CEO, head of a department, or even a first-time manager, a leader is only as good as their team. We expect that they bring a certain level of technical knowledge to the job; perhaps they’re a respected engineer, marketer, or financial wizard. But running an effective organization means tapping into the powers of others.</p><p>Every human being on this earth has a limited set of knowledge. Our brains have a limited capacity to know only so much. Humility is when we realize that.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><h3><br />George Washington, Most Humble and Obedient Servant</h3><p>By the time the drafters of the Constitution chose George Washington as the first president, he was an accomplished man. A military leader who had a career spanning three decades, including member of the Virginia House of Burgesses and Commander in Chief of the Continental Army.</p><p>And yet, he was still haunted by insecurity. Really, who can blame him? The leadership roles he took on were unprecedented; he was setting out an a path never trodden before. His words and deeds (including stepping down after two terms as president), show him as a leader, who despite his considerable success, was still humble.</p><p>Nancy Lemann writes:</p><blockquote><p>“One endearing thing about the father of our country was his propensity for self-effacement. Every time they drew him to a post, he would agonize and ultimately accept but essentially stand up and say, 'I just want it on the record that I do not consider myself equal to this task.’</p><p>“That was his basic position on everything. Showing that even the great have self-doubt. Maybe only the great. His professions of unworthiness continued to the end. In his farewell address to the nation after serving two terms as president he said he hoped that his many forms of incompetence would be consigned to oblivion.</p><p>“It sometimes seems a cliché to commend George Washington, but 'intellectual humility’ is associated with the capacity to maintain convictions, according to a recent scientific study, and I think it is one quality that must characterize an incorruptible man. If only because such a man is capable of admitting his mistakes. He knows he is fallible, and his self-doubt expands the potential of his mind, allowing him to understand that there are better ways than his, and that they can and must be searched for.” (“<a href="https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/scandal/exquisite-scandal">Exquisite Scandal</a>,” <em>Lapham’s Quarterly</em>)</p></blockquote><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>That sounds similar to what we know about <strong>emotional intelligence</strong> (more on that shortly), in which a leader is self-aware.</p><p>But more than being acutely aware of their own potential, shortcomings, and emotions, humble leaders understand that there are others who know more than us, and—more importantly—know <em>differently</em> than us.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><strong><br /></strong></p><div style="text-align: center;"><strong><strong>“</strong><em><strong>I cannot agree with those who rank modesty among the virtues. To the logician all things should be seen exactly as they are, and to underestimate one’s self is as much a departure from truth as to exaggerate one’s own powers.</strong></em><strong>”</strong><em> </em></strong></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Arthur Conan Doyle, 1893</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>Admitting shortcomings or acknowledging we don’t know everything doesn't equate to being timid or modest; humble leaders can still display confidence. The difference is that when we recognize our colleagues and their contributions, we show that we see them, appreciate their talent, and value working together. And that’s at the heart of leader humility.</p><p>It gives root to our ability to work together, serving as the foundation of relationships. If I don't see you and you don't see me for who we are, then there's no relationship there.</p><p>Simply put, our dignity demands it.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><strong><br /></strong></p><div style="text-align: center;"><strong><strong>“</strong><em><strong>Leader humility is a tendency to feel and display a deep regard for others</strong></em><strong>’</strong><em><strong> dignity.</strong></em><strong>”</strong><em> </em></strong></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Marilyn Gist, 2020</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><h3><strong><br />D-I-G-N-I-T-Y, it’s essential and this is why</strong></h3><p>Dignity is a fundamental aspect of what it means to be human. When you disregard or even violate the dignity of others, you make them feel like nonentities.</p><p>What’s a violation of dignity? Name-calling, bullying, cutting people off, stereotyping, taking credit — anything that shows you don't appreciate someone’s unique contribution. </p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>Remember that tale about Alan Mulally always demurring when praised, responding instead with “It's an honor to serve”? It’s a lesson in sharing credit.</p><p>A leader who is comfortable with their position doesn't need to take credit. When you’re saddled with a boss who needs to soothe his ego constantly, it’s exhausting. And it results in a lot of taking credit and doling out blame.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><strong><br /></strong></p><div style="text-align: center;"><strong><strong>“</strong><em><strong>The Greeks… saw that the unpardonable sin is insolence or presumption, an overweening pride of passion or reason, a failure to be mindful of the Nemesis that lies in wait for disproportionate self-assertion. Humanism, no less than religion, enjoins the virtue of humility.</strong></em><strong>”</strong><em> </em></strong></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— T.S. Elliot, 1929</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><h3><strong><br />The Harm of Hubris</strong></h3><p>Think back to <em>The Odyssey</em>, in which Odysseus and his men find themselves trapped in a cave with Polyphemus, the deranged, man-eating, sheep herding, one-eyed beast. Odysseus hatches an ingenious escape plan: they wait for the cyclops to fall asleep and then stab him in the eye with a sharpened log. Enraged and blinded, Polyphemus staggers to remove the stone he had rolled in front of the entrance of the cave, which frees Odysseus and his men.</p><p>It’s brilliant and, best of all, Odysseus, never having given the cyclops his real name, is off scot-free. But then, just out of reach of the bleeding, angry, shouting cyclops, he turns back and taunts:</p><blockquote><p><strong>“Cyclops! If any mortal asks you how<br />Your eye was mutilated and made blind,<br />Say that Odysseus, the city-saker,<br />Laertes’ son, who lives in Ithaca,<br />Destroyed your sight.”</strong></p></blockquote><p>Odysseus just couldn’t help himself. He wanted the credit. And he stupidly forgot that Polyphemus’ father was Poseidon. You don’t maim the son of the lord of the sea and take an ocean voyage without expecting some divine retribution.</p><p>This moment of hubris cost Odysseus something like ten years of his life, as Poseidon threw up countless obstacles, one after the other, between Odysseus and his wife, Penelope, back home in Ithaca. It’s a lesson that many people have heeded (and plenty of others have painfully forgotten) ever since.</p><p>History and literature are rife with examples of hubris, or excessive pride and arrogance.</p><ul><li><p>Ajax, title character of Sophocles’ play of the same name, thinks he does not need Zeus’ help due to hubris. </p></li><li><p>Oedipus thinks he can outrun his destiny.</p></li><li><p>In Mary Shelley’s <em>Frankenstein</em>, Victor Frankenstein thinks he can control life.</p></li></ul><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>It seems that more often than not, the ego-driven, ambitious, obsessive visionaries — call them what you will — are celebrated and rewarded. And to a certain degree that’s true. For without drive, ambition, and self-confidence, it’s hard to stand out.</p><p>But there's a sense of <a href="https://amzn.to/2LdnVcQ">entitlement and control</a> that individuals like this bring to the table. And it’s damaging to everyone around them, including the entity they're trying to build.</p><p><strong>Entitlement </strong>says, “I deserve this by virtue of who I am, not what I did.” The dignity-robbing “And you don’t” follows logically.</p><p><strong>Control </strong>says “My way or the highway,” and drives away the very people who might be in the best position to help.</p><p>We can let go of our ego when we recognize that the key to success is in <em><strong>working together</strong></em>.</p><p>Alan Mulally brought this spirit of working together to Boeing and Ford. Really, it’s a business philosophy and management system:</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dUf2h4M_3aU/YG1fHA1BO6I/AAAAAAABSqY/68w8NfAIQ-MKlb5UI-kZwaMY-Soj9l5XACLcBGAsYHQ/s1280/Alan%2527s%2BWorking%2BTogether%2BManagement%2BSystem.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dUf2h4M_3aU/YG1fHA1BO6I/AAAAAAABSqY/68w8NfAIQ-MKlb5UI-kZwaMY-Soj9l5XACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/Alan%2527s%2BWorking%2BTogether%2BManagement%2BSystem.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>You can see the humility this takes and the dignity it bestows on the team. It grants responsibilities and demonstrates a leadership team that cares about them.</p><p>Emotional intelligence, empathy, dignity, humility: these are leadership virtues that show your care and concern for others. Simply put, it's selflessness.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it’s thinking of yourself less.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— C.S. Lewis, 1952</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>What could be more powerful and deserving of loyalty than serving others?</p><p>A soft skill, indeed. But needed more in difficult times than ever.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text">  </pre></div><div></div><p>Thanks, and I’ll see you on the internet.</p><p><br /></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><hr /><br /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">👉 Premium Members receive an additional related essay, plus curated links and stories, and audio and book recommendations every Friday—except this Friday, we'll be hosting a special video AMA. Be sure to reserve your seat by becoming a paid subscriber:</p><div><br /></div><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><br /></figure></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{"url":"%%checkout_url%%","text":"Subscribe now","class":null}"><br /></p>

Humility Can Seem Soft When Problems Are Hard

David with the Head of Goliath by Caravaggio, 1610 (public domain - Wikipedia, CC by 1.0 ) “ Humility is attentive patience. ” — Simone...

United We Stand

<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dtQ4M9WO7rY/YGQS_Y8bREI/AAAAAAABSlE/Ik3KsXTZtcMDzOdhhu-coTVxOkRBb3tiQCLcBGAsYHQ/s918/Diego%2BRivera%2B-%2BDetroit_industry_north.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="379" data-original-width="918" height="264" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dtQ4M9WO7rY/YGQS_Y8bREI/AAAAAAABSlE/Ik3KsXTZtcMDzOdhhu-coTVxOkRBb3tiQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h264/Diego%2BRivera%2B-%2BDetroit_industry_north.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Detroit_Industry_Murals">Detroit Industry, North Wall</a></em><span style="text-align: left;">, 1932-33, fresco by </span><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Diego_Rivera" style="text-align: left;">Diego Rivera</a><span style="text-align: left;">. (public domain - </span><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Detroit_Institute_of_Arts" style="text-align: left;">Detroit Institute of Arts</a><span style="text-align: left;">)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="captioned-image-container" data-pm-context="[]"><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"><br /></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“I believe in the dignity of labor, whether with head or hand; that the world owes every man an opportunity to make a living.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— John D. Rockefeller Jr., 1941</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p>We seem more connected—in the digital sense and in the sense of having common interests—than ever before.</p><p>Whether you’re a student, a professional, or a retiree, you’re dealing with the effects of separation (from the office, from family, from friends, from old experiences) and fatigue.</p><p>We can all relate.</p><p>But recently, thanks to a number of new apps in the audio space, I’ve noticed that there’s a disparity: new technologies are exclusively available on iOS, not Android.</p><p>We’re not as connected as we might think. In fact, there’s quite a bit that separates us.</p><p>Given the many challenges we face on any given day, unity is essential.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>― George Orwell, 1945</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>For isn’t it through connection, collaboration, and communication that we accomplish more together?</p><p>Not just through physical proximity or brainstorming sessions, either. The simple act of showing empathy can propel us much further toward our goals than we might estimate.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>Strange then, that we find ourselves at a crossroads where we seem more divided than unified. We’re connected without being united.</p><p>On the economic front, during this pandemic we have people on the one end of the spectrum struggling to pay rent when <strong><a href="https://www.vox.com/recode/22356742/billionaires-amazon-jeff-bezos-rich-philanthropy-coronavirus-election">billionaires have ended the year far wealthier than they started</a></strong>.</p><p>And even with that public ledger displayed for anyone to see, tallying profits and losses in a global economic and moral accounting system, Jeff Bezos’ company is in the black financially, but in the red ethically.</p><p>For in Alabama, the votes are being tallied from the vote of Amazon workers to unionize. Over the last month, Amazon has waged a war against unionization, even <strong><a href="https://flip.it/PDHRE0">posting anti-union messages in the bathroom stalls at warehouses</a></strong>.</p><p>Completely ironic, given Amazon workers having to find <strong><a href="https://www.vice.com/en/article/k7amyn/amazon-denies-workers-pee-in-bottles-here-are-the-pee-bottles">alternative ways to relieve themselves</a></strong>.</p><blockquote><p>“But organizers say the union effort is not a fight over a $15 or $16 wage — though Amazon founder Jeff Bezos made nearly $75 billion in 2020. It is a matter of morality, of just who will make money off their labors. It’s a question of good and evil, about what is righteous, and just, and fair. For these workers and the organizers who have traveled from across the South to support their unionization effort, this is their David and Goliath story. What they want is dignity.” (“<a href="https://www.vox.com/the-highlight/22320009/amazon-bessemer-union-rwdsu-alabama">An unholy union</a>,” by Kim Kelly, March 21, 2021, <em>Vox</em>)</p></blockquote><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>There’s no question that Amazon is a juggernaut. A ubiquitous part of our collective experience—another thing that unites us.</p><p>You have to wonder what Jeff Bezos thinks about the experience he gives his employees. Perhaps he believes the Amazon culture and benefits make unionization unnecessary. Or maybe he simply doesn’t care.</p><p>Often, we make out our perceived enemies as one-dimensional, cast in a mold of evil geniuses with nefarious intentions. It makes it easier to dismiss their arguments and dig into our own.</p><p>But what we’re left with is confirmation bias. Every bit of information we discover about them is either tossed if it doesn’t fit our narrative, or neatly packed away to be used as fodder for further detrimental discourse.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>It’s one of the reasons I’m so fascinated with David Murray’s book <em><strong><a href="https://amzn.to/3fsAxxr">An Effort to Understand: Hearing One Another (and Ourselves) in a Nation Cracked in Half</a></strong></em> —more on David below.</p><p>With the brevity of so much online communication (not to mention the lack of nuance and context in text-based platforms), we miss the opportunity to have discussions, debates, and discourse.</p><p>We seem to have lost the ability to try to understand the other.</p><p>Given the above scenario with Amazon and the knowledge that we need to exhibit some empathy, let’s try a thought experiment.</p><p><br /></p><p></p><h2><strong>What Would You Do?</strong></h2><p>Suppose you’re a business owner. You started your family business some 30 years ago with an idea that was common, but you found a way to innovate in a way to leave the competition behind.</p><p>You bring your son on, who’ll eventually inherit the business, and he helps you with the transformation.</p><p>You realize that the backbone of any company is its employees. Employees who are treated well and given opportunities will become loyal employees. Loyalty means happy employees, and happy employees mean better productivity.</p><p>You double daily wages, you give $10 million in profits to employees one year, you reduce the number of hours they have to work. As part of this arrangement, you ask them to abstain from alcohol, to avoid domestic violence, to keep their homes clean, and contribute to a savings account.</p><p>It might seem a little intrusive, but you're interested in the physical, emotional, and financial well-being of your employees. In fact, you even create a division within HR that’s dedicated to this purpose.</p><p>The result? Productivity shoots up between 40% - 70%. Profits grow 20%. Employees are more focused, and your company sees a wave of people applying for work.</p><p>You’re proud of the firm you established and grew, and you know that no employer takes better care of your employees than you.</p><p><br /></p><p>What would you do if union organizers showed up and wanted to form a union so employees could engage in collective bargaining?</p><p>How would you feel after everything you’ve done to make this one of the best places to work? What would your response be to this kind of ingratitude?</p><p>You might have a difficult time seeing why they needed these new arrangements. You might fight the unionization efforts tooth and nail.</p><p><br /></p><p>Well, that’s exactly what one business leader did, after 30 years in business. More than any other business leader, he created the middle class. He made it possible for mothers and children to stay home from work because a single member of the family could make enough money to support them.</p><p>I’m sure you recognize this story by now.</p><p><strong>Henry Ford</strong> put the world on wheels in more than one way—in transportation as well as in prosperity.</p><p>So you might understand why he had a hard time seeing eye to eye with his employees on the question of a union.</p><p><br /></p><p>Of course, sending the Ford Security division to confront the union organizers in 1937 was a mistake. Security chief Harry Bennett and his good squad violently assaulted the organizers, then tried to lie about the fracas, blaming the union instead.</p><p>The trouble was, there was a Detroit News photographer there who captured the entire event. Once the graphic images reached the public, the <strong><a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/how-the-ford-motor-company-won-a-battle-and-lost-ground-45814533/">Battle of the Overpass</a></strong> was a public relations nightmare for Henry Ford and he conceded.</p><p>As we wait for the votes to be tallied in the latest unionization effort, the Battle of the Overpass is a powerful reminder of how vehemently dug in we can allow ourselves to be at times.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>For any leader, the very basis of the job is to bring all stakeholders together and communicate the need to work toward a common goal. [<strong><a href="https://ctt.ac/25984">Tweet this</a></strong>]</p><p>There may be disparate needs and ideas, but fundamentally, we all want the same thing.</p><p>At Ford, we defined it as “Profitable growth for all.” Everyone understood that phrase. How we got there, to each person, was a different story. But we knew we had to collaborate and communicate to make it happen.</p><p>Working together. Unity.</p><p>Your people are so much stronger together than apart.</p><p><br /></p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"></pre></div><div><hr /></div><h1><strong>Coming up</strong></h1><p>In Friday’s edition of the newsletter for premium subscribers (<a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/subscribe">here’s how to become one</a>), we’ll be talking more about organizational communication and what employees need.</p><p>I’d also like to invite you to join the next episode of <em><strong>Timeless Leadership </strong></em>on <strong>Thursday, April 1 at noon EDT</strong>, where we talk about the virtues and principles that make great leaders. It all happens on <a href="https://www.firesidechat.com/scottmonty">Fireside Chat</a>.</p><p>This week, my guest will be <strong>David Murray</strong>, who wrote <em><strong><a href="https://amzn.to/3fsAxxr">An Effort to Understand</a></strong></em> and who heads the global Professional Speechwriters Association. He's an award-winning journalist, and the editor and publisher of <em>Vital Speeches of the Day</em> magazine.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RJ_s8A8c-GQ/YGQTEkhVNwI/AAAAAAABSlI/brYPHXYG4i8GgXkQjAFmrrcoaezEppyBACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/david-murray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RJ_s8A8c-GQ/YGQTEkhVNwI/AAAAAAABSlI/brYPHXYG4i8GgXkQjAFmrrcoaezEppyBACLcBGAsYHQ/w150-h200/david-murray.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br /><p>Together, we’ll explore the concept of understanding and its role in companies, society, and leadership.</p><p>And if you’re a premium member, you’ll have access to the podcast recording of the discussion afterward. I hope you understand what a good deal that is.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>Thanks, and I’ll see you on the internet.</p><p><br /></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><hr /><br /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">👉 Premium Members receive an additional related essay, plus curated links and stories, and audio and book recommendations every Friday. And now, we're adding more audio content to the list! Join the club by signing up below:</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></p>

United We Stand

Detroit Industry, North Wall , 1932-33, fresco by Diego Rivera . (public domain - Detroit Institute of Arts ) “I believe in the dignity ...

Do the Decent

<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GDQNH19zCkY/YFtDNlOLZ3I/AAAAAAABSeA/vw8OsLCP6is2s6wwO9Hnk5ZJImef09lJQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1179/Luigi%2BSciallero%2B-%2BThe%2BGood%2BSamaritan.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1179" height="556" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GDQNH19zCkY/YFtDNlOLZ3I/AAAAAAABSeA/vw8OsLCP6is2s6wwO9Hnk5ZJImef09lJQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h556/Luigi%2BSciallero%2B-%2BThe%2BGood%2BSamaritan.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Good_Samaritan_by_Luigi_Sciallero,_1854,_oil_on_canvas_-_Accademia_Ligustica_di_Belle_Arti_-_DSC02356.JPG">The Good Samaritan</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Luigi Sciallero, 1854 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons </span><a href="https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/deed.en" style="text-align: left;">CC0 1.0</a><span style="text-align: left;">)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="captioned-image-container" data-pm-context="[]"><figure><figcaption class="image-caption"><br /></figcaption></figure></div><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Three things in human life are important. The first is to be kind. The second is to be kind. And the third is to be kind.” </strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Henry James, 1902</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p>Angelo Siciliano was born in the Calabria region of southern Italy. When he was ten years old, little Angelino (as he was called) moved with his family to Brooklyn, New York.</p><p>It was there that Angelino discovered how cruel the world could be. A small, sickly child, he had a delicate frame and wasn’t able to withstand the rigors of exercise—even ascending the stairs to his family’s ground floor apartment made him winded.</p><p>And so the bullies piled on, as bullies often do.</p><p>One day, on a class trip to the Brooklyn Museum, he was enduring the daily torment that plagued him. So he sat alone on a stone bench in the main hall, waiting—as he did most days—for this day to end.</p><p>And while he was sitting there, his gaze wandered to a statue across the hall. A sculpture of the mythological figure Hercules: the divine champion of the weak and a great protector.</p><p>With no father figure to look up to, as the scrawny Angelino started at Hercules, he decided right there and then that he would become what he saw.</p><p>He didn’t have money for an expensive gym, so he devised a way to make his muscles struggle against each other. We call these isometric exercises now. He watched the strongmen at Coney Island and asked them about their diet and exercise regimens.</p><p>Over time, Angelo grew his body and grew his confidence. He went from scrawny to brawny, the delicate features transforming into a well-sculptured physique that embodied strength.</p><p>Gone was the 97-pound weakling who had to endure sand being kicked in his face, either figuratively or literally.</p><p>The lack of kindness and empathy—attributes that bullies consistently seem to lack—that had been shown to little Angelo became the driving force that caused him to change his outlook, his habits, and even his name.</p><p>For Angelino Siciliano, the boy who was tormented daily by Brooklyn bullies, mapped out a way to find inner and outer strength for himself. And he shared that path with millions of other boys who would see his ads in comic books and magazines.</p><p>Only they would know him as <strong><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Atlas">Charles Atlas</a></strong>.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><h2><strong>The Value of Kindness</strong></h2><p>How much does kindness cost you? Or listening? Or compassion? Or empathy?</p><p>These may seem like softer, intangible assets — immeasurable to the analysts, but invaluable to your customers and employees.</p><p>Amid the digital hustle-bustle, think of the impact of exhibiting some of these qualities.</p><p>We all have the ability to express kindness, yet it can seem a struggle at times. We might be on edge because of a lost contract. Or because of an argument we had with someone about whom we care deeply.</p><p>Or maybe we just don’t make kindness a priority.</p><p>Kindness is a choice.</p><p>Every single day, we have a choice. Should we do or say something kind when unprompted? Or should we take advantage of a situation and be cutting and caustic?</p><p>When we see so much laid bare online, the temptation is there to pile on. When we’re accustomed to the knee-jerk reaction that the internet brings (non-ironic use of <em>jerk</em> there), our kindness muscle begins to atrophy.</p><p>And just like Charles Atlas, we need to exercise those muscles.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“A sense of fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1925</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />It’s kind of sad when we celebrate what should be accepted as normal, isn’t it?</p><p>Like when people get excited about receiving praise or a handwritten note.</p><p>Or when they talk wistfully about a leader who treated people with kindness and compassion.</p><p>Why aren’t we simply doing things that were once expected? Things that were once the price of existence? And doing them because they’re the right thing to do—not because we want something.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Mark Twain</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />Early in my career at Ford, I was at a conference in Paris, and I remember meeting someone for the first time with whom I had corresponded with online for a few years.</p><p>We chatted for a bit, catching up on all that had happened in the previous five years since we first connected online. New jobs, new cities, family life, observations on the industry, and the like.</p><p>When we were done, she wound up the conversation with astonishment:</p><blockquote><p>“Scott, I’ve been talking nonstop for 10 minutes, and during that time you put your phone away and gave me your undivided attention. Who <em>does</em> that?”</p></blockquote><p>Her reaction still sticks with me, over a decade later. All I did was listen to her as she talked. But that gesture of undivided attention—that little gesture of making the conversation with her more important than anything else—blew her away.</p><p>While I was glad that we met and spoke, I was left with this feeling of melancholy: wistful that attention, consideration, and kindness were now considered exceptional rather than the norm.</p><p>The simple act of showing kindness and consideration is a powerful strategy.</p><p>Each of us has it within our power to behave in such a way that our customers, employees, colleagues, and friends see us as a kind and decent person or company.</p><p>How marvelous it would be to leave them gratified rather than astonished.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><h2><strong>Coming up</strong></h2><p>In Friday’s edition of the newsletter for premium subscribers (<a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/subscribe">here’s how to become one</a>), we’ll be discussing kindness and decency, and why it matters for today’s leaders.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HlJ3fCa-3A0/YFtIkgtwjaI/AAAAAAABSeI/oI50ugUbLg4fjpsKmvn6JJbJvkQN-WHRwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/Timeless%2BLeadership.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HlJ3fCa-3A0/YFtIkgtwjaI/AAAAAAABSeI/oI50ugUbLg4fjpsKmvn6JJbJvkQN-WHRwCLcBGAsYHQ/w200-h200/Timeless%2BLeadership.png" width="200" /></a></div><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{"url":"https://www.timelesstimely.com/subscribe","text":"Join the growing list of Premium Members","class":null}">I’d also like to invite you to join me for free on <strong>Thursday, March 25 at noon EDT</strong> for the live episode of <em><strong>Timeless Leadership</strong></em>, where we talk about the virtues and principles that make great leaders. It all happens on <a href="https://www.firesidechat.com/scottmonty">Fireside Chat</a>.</p><p>This week, my guest will be <a href="https://www.davedelaney.me/">Dave Delaney</a>, a keynote speaker, corporate trainer, podcaster, and creator of the NICE Method™. He hosts the Nice Podcast and writes the Nice Maker Newsletter. I couldn't think of a nicer guy for this episode.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3UXTp39jV5M/YFtIssBWHII/AAAAAAABSeM/2gy4X4scZXcjhHFiVn_HkrqZpwZAyzT1wCLcBGAsYHQ/s625/Nice%252Bguy%252C%252Bkeynote%252Bspeaker%252C%252BDave%252BDelaney.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="500" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3UXTp39jV5M/YFtIssBWHII/AAAAAAABSeM/2gy4X4scZXcjhHFiVn_HkrqZpwZAyzT1wCLcBGAsYHQ/w160-h200/Nice%252Bguy%252C%252Bkeynote%252Bspeaker%252C%252BDave%252BDelaney.png" width="160" /></a></div><br /><p>Together, we’ll explore the concept of kindness and its role in leadership. Do nice guys finish last? Join us for the discussion.</p><p>And if you’re a premium member, you’ll have access to the discussion afterward. Sounds pretty nice, if you ask me.</p><p>Thanks, and I’ll see you on the internet.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /><br /></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">👉 Premium Members receive an additional related essay, plus curated links and stories, and audio and book recommendations every Friday. And now, we're adding more audio content to the list! Join the club by signing up below:</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://scottmonty.substack.com/embed" style="font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></p>

Do the Decent

The Good Samaritan by Luigi Sciallero, 1854 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons CC0 1.0 ) “Three things in human life are important. The fi...

Are You Feeling Lucky?

<p style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U4kyeb9ScZU/YFImr8zKIUI/AAAAAAABSaw/0Ejg_NLPGpEZiESxfC5lhyNtWYWsLJwFwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1271/Balthazar%2BNebot%2B-%2BAllegory%2Bof%2BFortune%2B-%2BGoogle_Art_Project.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1271" height="516" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U4kyeb9ScZU/YFImr8zKIUI/AAAAAAABSaw/0Ejg_NLPGpEZiESxfC5lhyNtWYWsLJwFwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h516/Balthazar%2BNebot%2B-%2BAllegory%2Bof%2BFortune%2B-%2BGoogle_Art_Project.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Balthazar_Nebot_-_Allegory_of_Fortune_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg#/media/File:Balthazar_Nebot_-_Allegory_of_Fortune_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg">Allegory of Fortune</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Balthazar Nebot, c. 1730 (public domain - Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection, via Google Art Project)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table> </p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“An ancient writer says, very truly: that there are three great powers in the world: sagacity, strength, and luck. I think the last is the most efficacious.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Arthur Schopenhauer, 1851</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />Luck, in many ways, is the opposite of control.</p><p>In fact, we have less control than we think. Swirling around each of us are innumerable variables, each independent of the other, and intersecting with our lives when we least expect it.</p><p>These variables contribute to our failures and our successes, but we’re not in a position to control them.</p><p>We can’t control what people will think, nor can we regulate elements that are external to us. Our emotions and our comportment are entirely within our own power; how we express them will send a signal to the world about how we wish to be perceived.</p><p>As life greets us with many twists and turns, we find ourselves in situations we didn’t cause and that we can’t control. In many ways, it can feel terrifying.</p><p>At the same time, it can feel liberating. Because the only thing we can control is how we react.</p><p>And that very action—deciding how we’ll react—is what will make our luck.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“We can’t control the variance. We can’t control what happens. But we can control our attention and how we choose to deploy it.” </strong></em></strong></em></div><p></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>— Maria Konnikova, 2020</em></p><p><em><br /></em></p><div><hr /></div><p>Call it luck, call it fortune, call it chance or superstition, it’s all the same: circumstances that are outside of our realm of influence. But if we put ourselves in the proper mindset, we can tilt ourselves one way or another, as a sail catches wind.</p><p>In his 1851 essay “<a href="https://amzn.to/2Q61Hj4">The Wisdom of Life</a>” (hey, how’s that for a healthy ego?), Arthur Schopenhauer wrote:</p><blockquote><p>“A man’s life is like the voyage of a ship, where luck acts the part of the wind and speeds the vessel on its way or drives it far out of its course. All that the man can do for himself is of little avail; like the rudder, which if worked hard and continuously may help in the navigation of the ship; and yet all may be lost again by a sudden squall. But if the wind is only in the right quarter, the ship will sail on so as not to need any steering.”</p></blockquote><p>Have you noticed some people who seem to fall into good fortune? Who never have headwinds?</p><p>It may seem that way, but odds are they’ve faced difficulties. What sets them apart is how they reacted. If they’re resilient, they kept pushing on, tacking and jibing as the prevailing winds changed.</p><p>When they finally arrive at port, the waters are calm as the boat finds its slip, it seems like it’s been smooth sailing for them. But they know how they had to change course in order to arrive safely.</p><p>When you look at the success of Joseph P. Kennedy, the patriarch of the Kennedy clan bootlegger, early Hollywood mogul, and diplomat, you would think he was born on Easy Street.</p><blockquote><p>“On the Wall Street of the 1920s, Catholics were borderline cases and often found it harder than Jews to enter high finance. Snubbed by Protestants, they turned to stock market speculation by default, and Jazz Age plungers were disproportionately Irish. Armed with ticker tape and telephones at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, Joe Kennedy made a fortune in stock pools.” (Ron Chernow, <i><a href="https://amzn.to/3s0eh1m" target="_blank">The House of Morgan</a></i>, 1989)</p></blockquote><p>But in those early days, Jack Morgan refused to see him because of his dual stigma of being a  speculator and a Catholic.</p><p>In the years following the stock market crash, Kennedy because chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission: a powerful role, and an influential one too, given Jack Morgan’s snub of Kennedy a decade before.</p><p>Kennedy enjoyed another twist of fate: when he became United States Ambassador to the Court of St. James (UK) from 1938-1940, the ambassador’s official residence was at Princes Gate—the former home of Junius Spenser Morgan and J.Pierpoint Morgan (Jack’s grandfather and father) in London.</p><p>In those early years, Kennedy had no ability to change Morgan’s decision or his prejudice. He did, however, have the ability to change the company with whom he would associate and the kind of work he preferred to do.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>“Fortune always will confer an aura</strong></em></div><em><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>Of worth, unworthily; and in this world</strong></em></div><strong><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>The lucky person passes for a genius.”</strong> </em></div></strong></em><p></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>— Euripides, c. 429 BC</em></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />In retrospect, decisions we make with respect to our direction can seem like folly or pure genius. The reality is, we do the best with the information we have at the time.</p><p>When I decided to join Ford, I knew the company needed to make a comeback and I foresaw the rise of social media in the general public. I predicted the intersection of the two would be a great boon to Ford.</p><p>While my prediction was correct, what I didn’t know at the time was the looming financial meltdown and government bailout for some of the auto industry that would result. Ford managed to burnish its reputation during that time.</p><p>I retrospect, I looked like a genius, but it was partially due to luck.</p><p>The lesson: be well-informed, be curious, and trust your instinct in order to be prepared for whatever Dame Fortune sends you.</p><p>Fortune is a fickle thing, gossamer-like in nature. It’s impossible to catch and fold it neatly in our pocket. Glimpsed one way, it can seem strong and certain. But it can also fall apart at the touch.</p><p>Once we realize that, we can gently stretch or bend it to our advantage, ever so slightly.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><h1><strong>Stay tuned</strong></h1><p>In Friday’s edition of the newsletter for premium subscribers (<a href="https://timelesstimely.com/subscribe">here’s how to become one</a>), we’ll be discussing merit, and how luck plays into our thinking on equality.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{"url":"https://www.timelesstimely.com/subscribe","text":"Join other discerning Premium Members","class":null}"><a class="button primary" href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/subscribe">Join other discerning Premium Members</a></p><p>Meanwhile, I’d like to invite you to join me on <strong>Thursday, March 18 at noon EDT</strong> for the inaugural live episode of <em><strong>Timeless Leadership</strong></em>, where about the virtues and principles that make great leaders.</p><p>My very first guest will be <strong><a href="https://lauragassnerotting.com/">Laura Gassner Otting</a></strong>, best-selling author of <em><a href="https://amzn.to/38QprOI">Limitless: How to Ignore Everybody, Carve Your Own Path, and Live Your Best Life</a></em>, which debuted at #2 on the <em>Washington Post</em> bestseller list.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c4m1FDjvc3A/YFIlkatCQOI/AAAAAAABSao/MQhDyPKqnP8ECN7Wy7fOUV1Av4sOYungwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/LGO%2Bheadshot%2Bbw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c4m1FDjvc3A/YFIlkatCQOI/AAAAAAABSao/MQhDyPKqnP8ECN7Wy7fOUV1Av4sOYungwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/LGO%2Bheadshot%2Bbw.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Laura is a serial entrepreneur who has started and sold a successful international executive search firm, built philanthropic and political action committees from scratch, and was a White House appointee on the team which created the national service project, AmeriCorps. Laura is like a punch in the face wrapped in a warm hug.</p><p>And I’m lucky to have her on the show.</p><p>The show will be hosted on <strong>Fireside Chat</strong> (which you can download with this VIP audience link: <a href="https://f.chat/f141">https://f.chat/f141</a>). You can find <a href="https://firesidechat.com/scottmonty">my profile</a> here.</p><p><br /></p><h2><strong>Why Fireside?</strong></h2><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n6qRS8ajjBg/YFIlrWR9iQI/AAAAAAABSas/Q_lL80Y9PZUX07PKx_9btGmyOfBfZnUlgCLcBGAsYHQ/s768/fireside-logo.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="768" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n6qRS8ajjBg/YFIlrWR9iQI/AAAAAAABSas/Q_lL80Y9PZUX07PKx_9btGmyOfBfZnUlgCLcBGAsYHQ/w200-h200/fireside-logo.png" width="200" /></a></div>Fireside Chat is a new podcast platform for the next generation — a socially responsible space for us to come together in real-time, so we can collaborate and create meaningful moments (which are also recorded so you don’t have FOMO).<p></p><p>Their community values are the essence of Timeless Leadership: <strong>respect</strong>, <strong>empathy</strong>, <strong>community</strong>, and <strong>fun</strong>.</p><p>They take culture seriously there, and the focus is on <strong>quality </strong>conversations.</p><p>When he launched the first of his “fireside chats” on March 12, 1933, President Franklin D. Roosevelt created important moments of intimacy through audio. He connected directly with listeners all across America.</p><p>You’ve heard my voice, but this kind of Fireside Chat isn’t just about me. Because with Fireside, <em>you’ll</em> have a voice as well. I want you to engage me in live conversations. Discussions. Debates. Discourse.</p><p>You know, the way humans used to talk to each other before the internet came along. We’ll be doing this in a public forum, just as the Romans used the Forum for public engagement over two thousand years ago.</p><p>Thanks, and I hope I’ll see you there. Or on the internet.</p><p></p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 image2-71-563" href="https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F77dac60f-7de4-434a-aa31-8fb73c44e1de_563x71.png" style="height: 0px; padding-bottom: min(12.611%, 71px); width: 100%;" target="_blank"><img alt="" data-attrs="{"src":"https://bucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/77dac60f-7de4-434a-aa31-8fb73c44e1de_563x71.png","height":71,"width":563,"resizeWidth":null,"bytes":5308,"alt":null,"title":null,"type":"image/png","href":null}" src="https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F77dac60f-7de4-434a-aa31-8fb73c44e1de_563x71.png" style="max-height: 71px; max-width: 563px;" /></a></figure></div><p></p><div class="footnote" id="footnote-1"><br /></div>

Are You Feeling Lucky?

Allegory of Fortune by Balthazar Nebot, c. 1730 (public domain - Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection, via Google Art Projec...

Scott Monty - Strategic Communications & Leadership Advisor

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