Character Defines Success Amid Uncertainty

<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/-0HUG9_iOuzo/YMtAXD5X_5I/AAAAAAABUTE/_XyMHyQI9w0axOn7QMyJRxgvRRPda2f6QCLcBGAsYHQ/s734/John%2BStrudwick%2B-%2BA%2BGolden%2BThread%252C%2B1885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="734" height="372" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0HUG9_iOuzo/YMtAXD5X_5I/AAAAAAABUTE/_XyMHyQI9w0axOn7QMyJRxgvRRPda2f6QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h372/John%2BStrudwick%2B-%2BA%2BGolden%2BThread%252C%2B1885.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/Moirai#/media/File:Strudwick-_A_Golden_Thread.JPG">A Golden Thread</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by John Strudwick, 1885 (public domain - Wikipedia)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“We cannot insure success, but we can deserve it.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— <a href="https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17760218ja" target="_blank">John Adams, 1776</a></em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />Do you know what’s going to happen tomorrow?</p><p>Well, you may have an idea of a general set of events or expected occurrences. The news media keeps us on alert so we can tune in, and our calendars attune us to where and when we need to make an appearance.</p><p>But beyond that, we can’t say with certainty that we know <em>how</em> things are going to work out.</p><p>The future is uncertain.</p><p>The past four years—and without doubt, the last year alone—have been fraught with the ups and downs of a reality TV show (admittedly, it has seemed like we were caught in the midst of one) as we’ve lived on edge.</p><p>But isn’t that the story of all history?</p><p>We don’t know how things are going to turn out for us, and neither did our ancestors.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>When <strong>Dwight Eisenhower</strong> oversaw the planning for Operation Overlord in 1944, he had no way of knowing whether D-Day would be a success. In fact, <a href="https://www.archives.gov/education/lessons/d-day-message" target="_blank">he drafted a short note</a> in the event of a defeat:</p><blockquote><p>"Our landings in the Cherbourg-Havre area have failed to gain a satisfactory foothold and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based upon the best information available. The troops, the air and the Navy did all that Bravery and devotion to duty could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt it is mine alone."</p></blockquote><p>As the first three humans were set to land on the moon and safely return in 1969, we had no way of knowing whether NASA would be able to pull it off. Speechwriter <strong>William Safire</strong> prepared a speech for <strong>Richard Nixon</strong> titled "<a href="https://www.archives.gov/files/presidential-libraries/events/centennials/nixon/images/exhibit/rn100-6-1-2.pdf" target="_blank">IN THE EVENT OF MOON DISASTER</a>."</p><p>When we were making digital and social media progress at Ford, we didn’t have a road map; we paved the road behind us.</p><p>The point is, it is only upon looking back that we have certainty; looking forward, nothing is guaranteed.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“History, I like to think, is a larger way of looking at life.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— David McCullough, 2017</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />I write a lot about history here. And it’s more than a hobby or side interest to me. History is the study of human nature, of character.</p><p>And character is what shapes our future.</p><p>The ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus said, “character is destiny.”  It was his supposition that fate is not some predetermined outside force (as much as Greek mythology credited <strong><a href="https://www.greeklegendsandmyths.com/the-moirai.html">the Moirae</a></strong>), but that our future is determined by our inner character.</p><p>Character defines who we are, and part of knowing who we are is knowing where we came from.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>Our family gives us a strong sense of values; our education provides us with facts and (with any luck) the ability to think critically; the corporate history of our company tells a story of how and why the company came to be.</p><p>Those looking to make change—particularly in uncertain times—will often encounter someone of long tenure at a company dissuade them from disrupting things with one simple and dismissive phrase:</p><p><em><strong>“We’ve always done it that way.”</strong></em></p><p>“We’ve always done it that way” is the shield behind which the fearful cower. It’s an excuse for avoiding a difficult decision. It is the plea of someone who needs a roadmap in unfamiliar terrain.<br /><br /></p><p><strong><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>If you’ve always done it that way, then you’ll continue to get the same results. </i>[<a href="https://ctt.ac/d6v5B" target="_blank">Tweet this!</a>]</span></strong></p><p><br />And if you’re satisfied with the same results, want to avoid conflict, and wait for the world to change <em>you</em> rather than you changing the world, then by all means, keep doing things the same way.</p><p><strong>Margaret McFarland</strong>, a child psychologist who mentored <strong>Fred Rogers</strong>, said “<em>attitudes aren’t taught, they’re caught</em>.”</p><p>Risk-taking, fearless leadership, transformational change—all of these things are part of a company’s (or family’s) culture—and we need to <em>live</em> these values as well as talk about them.</p><p>Even though we may be predisposed to shrink from a crisis or to avoid a seemingly insurmountable task—uncertain as they are—it is the very act of meeting them head-on that calls out our character, and therefore our destinies.</p><p>When <strong>John</strong> and <strong>Abigail Adams</strong> sent their son, <strong>John Quincy Adams</strong>, across the Atlantic to study in France, he was just 12 years old. The year was 1779 and America was at war. Transatlantic travel in a leaky boat was anything but a sure thing.</p><p>But the Adamses wanted their son to have an opportunity to associate with Benjamin Franklin and political philosophers in France and to gain from experience, as uncertain as it was.</p><p>In <a href="https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Adams/04-03-02-0207" target="_blank">one of her letters</a> to her son, Abigail Adams reminded him that unfamiliar and uncomfortable scenarios help us become who we are meant to be:</p><blockquote><p><strong><i>“The habits of a vigorous mind are formed in contending with difficulties... Great necessities call out great virtues.” </i>[<a href="https://ctt.ac/2U97Z" target="_blank">TWEET THIS</a>]</strong></p></blockquote><p>When faced with uncertainty, the character you display, either overtly or blatantly, tells others everything they need to know about you.</p><p>Deep down, you already know it to be true.<br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"></pre></div><div><hr /></div><h2><strong>Coming Up</strong></h2><p>Joining us this week on <em><strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/s/timeless-leadership">Timeless Leadership</a></strong></em> is <strong>Carey Lohrenz</strong>, the first female F-14 Tomcat pilot and author of <em><a href="https://amzn.to/3zoO6pg">Span of Control: What To Do When You're Under Pressure, Overwhelmed, And Ready To Get What You Really Want</a></em>.</p><p>We’ll be talking about <strong>Control</strong> — how leaders respond amid uncertainty, how to remain flexible and comfortable, and control as much as we can in an uncertain world.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v8byy4eFvEc/YMs_3cC-VCI/AAAAAAABUS8/xtNIx2_p2qQ95ejO35UZvl7ZcrSqhrLJQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1665/Control%2B-%2BHeader.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="981" data-original-width="1665" height="236" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v8byy4eFvEc/YMs_3cC-VCI/AAAAAAABUS8/xtNIx2_p2qQ95ejO35UZvl7ZcrSqhrLJQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h236/Control%2B-%2BHeader.png" width="400" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://lu.ma/3ecq7x9r" target="_blank">Set a reminder</a> to join us live at 12:00 pm EDT on <strong><a href="https://lu.ma/3ecq7x9r">Fireside Chat</a></strong> and be sure to follow the show on <strong><a href="http://bit.ly/timelesspod">Apple Podcasts</a></strong> or <strong><a href="https://pod.link/timeless">wherever you get your podcasts</a></strong>.</p><p>Thanks, and I’ll see you on the internet.</p><p><br /></p><hr style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><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 they get an audio version of this essay. 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 data-dashlane-frameid="5999" frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://www.timelesstimely.com/embed" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></p>

Character Defines Success Amid Uncertainty

  A Golden Thread  by John Strudwick, 1885 (public domain - Wikipedia) “We cannot insure success, but we can deserve it.”   — John Adams, 17...

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In It Together

<em><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Creation_of_man_Prometheus_Berthelemy_Louvre_INV20043.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/-IQlTNYU45GE/YMJvdncf20I/AAAAAAABUHM/ACuZxL9DKL4_8r0RebZ87mK9F3OHcHtPwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Jean-Simon%2BBerth%25C3%25A9lemy%2B-%2BCreation%2Bof%2Bman%2BPrometheus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IQlTNYU45GE/YMJvdncf20I/AAAAAAABUHM/ACuZxL9DKL4_8r0RebZ87mK9F3OHcHtPwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h400/Jean-Simon%2BBerth%25C3%25A9lemy%2B-%2BCreation%2Bof%2Bman%2BPrometheus.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:Creation_of_man_Prometheus_Berthelemy_Louvre_INV20043.jpg">Prometheus creating man in the presence of Athena</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Jean-Simon Berthélemy, 1802 and by Jean-Baptiste Mauzaisse, 1826 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons, </span><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5/deed.en" style="text-align: left;">CC BY 2.5</a><span style="text-align: left;">)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /></a></em><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“A house divided against itself cannot stand.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Abraham Lincoln, 1858</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p>I recall a scene in the mid 1990s just after leaving Boston University: <a href="https://youtu.be/KVocY1CuaIM">David Letterman brought </a><em><a href="https://youtu.be/KVocY1CuaIM">The Late Show</a></em><a href="https://youtu.be/KVocY1CuaIM"> to BU</a>, and picked out a student to become Big Man on Campus.</p><p>He randomly chose Michael Hirsch from the Freshman Record (a literal facebook of enrolled students), whose interests were listed as “Business and people.”</p><p>Dave had a field day with that, remarking,</p><blockquote><p>“That’s a one-two punch. I mean, think about this: if you’re interested in business but not in people, well then you’re screwed.”</p></blockquote><p>And yet, how many times have you encountered a situation, either as an employee or as a customer, where things don’t feel people-centric?</p><p>We have to make a big deal out of human-centered efforts, because they tend to be the exception rather than the rule.</p><p>In our lust for technology and data, we seem to have forgotten that humans are thriving behind each email address, each Twitter account, and each profile. People matter.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><h2>Look What I Have Created</h2><p>In ancient Greek mythology, Zeus was the tyrannical king of the gods—a real control freak. He had things arranged just the way he wanted. Under his rule, the younger Olympian gods defeated the elder Titans, and Zeus ruled with an iron fist.</p><p>But Prometheus, one of the second generation of Titans, saw things differently. He is credited as the creator of humankind. Or at least with sharing secrets of the gods with humans.</p><p>In Aeschylus’ <em>Prometheus Bound</em>, we find him chained to a rock, sentenced to eternal torment as an eagle eats his liver. Overnight, his liver grows back, and the eagle returns the next day, in a perpetual Groundhog Day of a sentence.</p><p>When asked why he was being punished, he said,</p><blockquote><p>“I gave humans hope, so they may be optimistic, and taught them the secrets of fire, from which they may learn many crafts and arts (<em>technai</em>).”</p></blockquote><p>How fascinating that, in his desire to create collaboration between mortals and immortals, he used technology to make it happen!</p><p>While we understand this to be a myth, to this very day, we still honor those origins of hope, optimism, and technology with a torch race that heralds the beginning of the Olympic games.</p><p>Thanks to Prometheus’ subversiveness, we have a stark reminder of the importance of people in how we lead.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><h2>People First</h2><p>In his book <em><strong><a href="https://amzn.to/3v6ccSz">Excellence Now: Extreme Humanism</a></strong></em>, Tom Peters has a whole section called “People First.”</p><iframe frameborder="0" height="180px" loading="lazy" scrolling="no" src="https://www.listennotes.com/podcasts/timeless-leadership/humanity-0tGCvpnjLca/embed/" style="min-width: 100%; width: 1px;" width="100%"></iframe><p><br /></p><p>And it’s no coincidence that the first tenet of Alan Mullally’s <strong>Working Together Management System™</strong> stresses  “people first.”</p><p>The mistake most leaders make—particularly when trying to execute a major transformation—is they focus on technology, metrics, and tracking.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><br />“Our success as an organization will ultimately be determined by our ability to work together as a team…to make the strategy succeed.”</strong> </em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>— Alan Mulally, 2020<br /><br /></em></p><div><hr /></div><p><br /></p><p>When he arrived at Ford, Alan used the WTMS principles in weekly meetings with his executive team, introducing them to the business plan review (BPR) every Thursday.</p><p>The executives responsible for Alan’s transition into Ford were prepared for the usual bloodletting as the CEO would eliminate dead wood and bring in his own preferred team. But Alan quickly disabused them of the notion.</p><p>The beauty of the Working Together Management System was that they could put their trust in the process.</p><p>Bryce Hoffman recreates the scene in <em><strong><a href="https://amzn.to/3x6mFOZ">American Icon: Alan Mulally and the Fight to Save Ford Motor Company</a></strong></em>:</p><blockquote><p>“Alan, if the board offers you this job and you take it, you need to understand that there are no sacred cows,” [board member Irv] Hockaday told Mulally. “Any friends of Bill [Ford] that are in the wrong positions or you conclude are not the right guys, you can get rid of them—and Bill will confirm that.”</p><p>Mulally shook his head.</p><p>“That’s not an issue, because I'm not going to have to get rid of many people,” he replied.</p><p>Mulally’s response was a little worrisome to Hockaday and [board member John] Thornton. They believed the time had come for a little bloodletting at the top of the house in Dearborn. It was concern about the weakness of Ford’s bench that had prompted them to look outside the company for a CEO in the first place.</p><p>“How do you come to that conclusion?” Hockaday asked.</p><p>Mulally responded by outlining his system of weekly meetings for them, just as he had for Ford. He told them this approach enforced extreme accountability on a weekly basis and left no hiding place for anyone who was not entirely committed to executing his part of the business plan.</p><p>“It’s likely that a lot of people at Ford aren’t used to that, and they will self-select out,” Mulally said. “And I won’t have to do it.”</p></blockquote><p>And just like Prometheus, the BPR meetings were like giving fire to the executives. While they were a little skittish at first, they gradually warmed to them and the self-selection process worked as expected.</p><p>In particular, there were a couple of executives who didn’t seem to be team players and harbored a pessimistic attitude. This was anathema to what Alan needed in pulling everyone together.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{"url":"https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/optimism","text":"Related: Optimism","class":null}" style="text-align: center;"><a class="button primary" href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/optimism"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>Related: Optimism</i></b></span></a></p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>But there were three specific elements to the BPR meetings that ensured the changing culture under Alan’s leadership: enforced <strong>accountability</strong>, a spirit of <strong>cooperation</strong>, and relentless <strong>execution</strong>.</p><p>Together with the other principles and practices, while sounding simple, these behaviors are woven together through the complexity of an organization and its people to ensure working together works.</p><p>For all the people involved.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><h1><strong>Coming Up</strong></h1><p>The next guest on the <em><strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/s/timeless-leadership">Timeless Leadership</a></strong></em> podcast is none other than <strong>Alan Mulally</strong>. He helped turn around an American and global icon in his work as an executive at Boeing before being tapped to become the CEO of Ford Motor Company in 2006.</p><p>We’ll be talking about <strong>Collaboration</strong> — specifically about Alan’s Working Together Management System.</p><p>Be sure to follow on <strong><a href="http://bit.ly/timelesspod">Apple Podcasts</a></strong> or <strong><a href="https://pod.link/timeless">wherever you get your podcasts</a></strong>.</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 /><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 data-dashlane-frameid="6759" frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://www.timelesstimely.com/embed" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></p></div>

In It Together

Prometheus creating man in the presence of Athena  by Jean-Simon Berthélemy, 1802 and by Jean-Baptiste Mauzaisse, 1826 (public domain - Wik...

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It's You I Like

<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/-WYc22QZQ_yU/YLhULK9AxXI/AAAAAAABT9o/6ltu51ZLvds3JfkVWVLrgv9CEwuROj9LgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1137/Jean-Auguste-Dominique%2BIngres%2B-%2BPortrait%2Bof%2BMonsieur%2BBertin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="852" data-original-width="1137" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WYc22QZQ_yU/YLhULK9AxXI/AAAAAAABT9o/6ltu51ZLvds3JfkVWVLrgv9CEwuROj9LgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/Jean-Auguste-Dominique%2BIngres%2B-%2BPortrait%2Bof%2BMonsieur%2BBertin.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/Portrait_of_Monsieur_Bertin">Portrait of Monsieur Bertin</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Jean-August-Dominique Ingres, 1832 (public domain - Wikipedia)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“No man can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude without finally getting bewildered as to which may be true.”</strong>  </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>— Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1850</em></p><p><em><br /></em></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />For those struggling with the perennial “personal brand” development, one question you might ask yourself is “What do I want the world to see?”</p><p>Because of the ubiquity of online content—whether on TikTok, Instagram, YouTube, or elsewhere—we have an impression of what success looks like, as if a 15-second staged and edited video could tell the full story.</p><p>Weblebrities (not influencers, mind you) are no different than celebrities of decades ago, made glamorous by the Hollywood press machine, their reputations kept intact by an incestuous relationship between studio publicists and gossip columnists. We saw what they wanted us to see.</p><p>Everyone creating content online seeks fame, but authenticity and celebrity rarely go hand-in-hand.</p><p>Why?</p><p>Because people like a show. They like controversy. And we generally don’t live our lives being always “on.”</p><p>And this is why some people struggle with the ubiquitous advice to “be authentic.” They feel like they either owe people some kind of entertainment or that they’ll be ignored if they’re not controversial in some way.</p><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“This above all: to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— William Shakespeare, 1601</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />Isn’t it liberating to just be yourself? To be comfortable with who you are, and to show up that way, every day?</p><p>Whether you’re headed to work, out with friends, or at a family gathering, you don’t need to be <em>on</em>, you just need to be <em>you</em>.</p><p>And when you’re yourself, you can live with less shame or regret later on. Edgar Guest wrote about this in his poem “<a href="http://www.yourdailypoem.com/listpoem.jsp?poem_id=855" target="_blank">Myself</a>”:</p><p>    <em>I have to live with myself and so<br />    I want to be fit for myself to know.<br />    I want to be able as days go by,<br />    always to look myself straight in the eye…<br />    I want to go out with my head erect<br />    I want to deserve all men’s respect;<br />    but here in the struggle for fame and wealth<br />    I want to be able to like myself.<br />    I don’t want to look at myself and know that<br />    I am… bluff and empty show.<br />    I never can hide myself from me;<br />    I see what others may never see;<br />    I know what others may never know,<br />    I never can fool myself and so,<br />    whatever happens I want to be<br />    self-respecting and conscience-free.</em></p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>How we decide to show up will determine how we feel about ourselves, and as an extension, how we then treat other people.</p><p>Have you noticed that bullies invariably have problems with self-esteem? They bully others to make themselves feel more powerful, in many cases because they’re powerless in some other area of their life.</p><p>They feel badly about themselves and extend those feelings onto others. Deep down, they may know that they’re being abusive, and that in turn may make them feel even more dissatisfied with who they are.</p><p>Your feeling about yourself influences your behavior, the behavior of others, and what you perceive of yourself.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><br />“Authenticity isn't about being someone else. It's about being the best version of yourself. ”</strong> </em></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Fred Rogers</em></div><div style="text-align: right;">[<a href="https://ctt.ac/77O6Y" target="_blank">Tweet this</a>]</div><p></p><div><hr /></div><h2><br />Just the Way You Are</h2><p>Perhaps most powerfully, Mister Rogers demonstrated how he valued authenticity every day on his program when he told his millions of viewers, “I like you just the way you are.”</p><p>It was more than words, though. Fred Rogers backed it up in the way he treated everyone, giving them the ability to be the best version of themselves.</p><p>One day, a little boy named Jeff Erlanger visited the neighborhood in his electric wheelchair, days before a risky surgery. Mister Rogers visited with him sang “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFmpfEFjdFM&feature=youtu.be">It’s You I Like</a>” to Jeff, who also joined in.</p><p>Later, the two of them would be reunited in a surprise visit that brings me to tears every time I watch it. Every. Time.</p><center><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/LFmpfEFjdFM" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></center><p><br /></p><p>“These are lovely sentiments,” you might be saying, “but what do they have to do with leadership?”</p><p>I’m glad you asked.</p><p><br /></p><p>Think for a moment about the people who work with you. Are you giving them the ability to be themselves at work? To express their ideas, to be comfortable with who they are?</p><p>We post job descriptions that call for people who show initiative. But when they do, perhaps pursuing an unconventional idea at your company, are they castigated or rewarded?</p><p>When we say we’re okay with failure, but then we penalize those who fail, what does that do to those who would be authentic in their approach to solutions?</p><p>And particularly when we’re in Pride Month, how are you allowing people to be uniquely themselves? Perhaps even making it <em>possible</em> for them to be their authentic selves?<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><br />“As different as we are from one another, as unique as each one of us is, we are much more the same than we are different. That may be the most essential message of all, as we help our children grow toward being caring, compassionate, and charitable adults.” </strong></em></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Fred Rogers</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><h2><br />True Selves</h2><p>And what about you? Do you have the ability to be your true self at work?</p><p>Perhaps you’re afraid of people discovering something about you—some personality flaw or lack of ability. You’re not alone. <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/im-flawed">We’re all flawed</a></strong>. And the only people <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/ignorance-incompetence-and-impostors">without impostor syndrome are actual impostors</a></strong>.</p><p>The leaders I admire most are those who are consistently themselves (i.e., authentic) whether they’re in front of a camera, a crowd, a boardroom, or an individual in an elevator.</p><p>When a leader shows how they’re comfortable in their own skin and treats people with dignity and respect, is curious, has integrity, is patient and kind, and the dozens of other <strong><a href="https://pod.link/timeless">timeless leadership qualities</a></strong>, we trust them.</p><p>And as we know, trust is the foundation of leadership.</p><p>Why not be yourself? Give people a chance to see and trust the real you.</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>The next guest on the <em><strong>Timeless Leadership</strong></em> podcast is <strong>Minter Dial</strong>, author of <em><a href="https://amzn.to/3piUvO7">You Lead: How Being Yourself Makes You a Better Leader</a></em>.</p><p>Join us at 12:00 pm EDT on Thursday, June 3. <strong><a href="https://f.chat/HAPq">Request access here</a></strong>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cy4Eo3ySh4A/YLhWXkgNsSI/AAAAAAABT9w/tVeHubMV-cUdlboSV9hB5JfmZFHjF1jagCLcBGAsYHQ/s1080/Authenticity.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cy4Eo3ySh4A/YLhWXkgNsSI/AAAAAAABT9w/tVeHubMV-cUdlboSV9hB5JfmZFHjF1jagCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Authenticity.png" /></a></div><p><br /></p><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 /></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 data-dashlane-frameid="28549" frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://www.timelesstimely.com/embed" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></p>

It's You I Like

Portrait of Monsieur Bertin  by Jean-August-Dominique Ingres, 1832 (public domain - Wikipedia) “No man can wear one face to himself and anot...

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Patience and Fortitude

<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/-oyNrROCrbhE/YK-YMqeZoqI/AAAAAAABTwU/ti0uB7BqylUI1IB4qX-rmBBjNH2xiUUWwCLcBGAsYHQ/s733/Jean-Francois%2BMillet%2B-%2BWaiting%252C%2B1860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="490" data-original-width="733" height="428" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oyNrROCrbhE/YK-YMqeZoqI/AAAAAAABTwU/ti0uB7BqylUI1IB4qX-rmBBjNH2xiUUWwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h428/Jean-Francois%2BMillet%2B-%2BWaiting%252C%2B1860.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:Waiting,_Jean-Francois_Millet,_1860_-_Nelson-Atkins_Museum_of_Art_-_DSC08970.JPG">Waiting </a></em><span style="text-align: left;">by Jean-François Millet, 1860 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons </span><a href="https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/deed.en" style="text-align: left;">CC0 </a><a href="https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/deed.en" style="text-align: left;">1.0</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>“Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting. That is laziness. But to keep going when the going is hard and slow—that is patience. The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Leo Tolstoy, 1904</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />Have you ever been late to a meeting or an appointment?</p><p>Of course you have. You’re human.</p><p>And instinctively you offer what we in polite society would expect: an <a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/whens-the-last-time-you-heard-a-proper">apology</a>. Which is fine — the world needs better apologies.</p><p>But I’m going to give you something different to say—something more powerful and empowering—that will elevate your stature as a leader.</p><p>But first, a story.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><h2><strong>Guardians of Knowledge</strong></h2><p>Have you ever been to New York City? If you have, you probably walked past the New York Public Library.</p><p>You know the building—it’s the same one that the Ghostbusters came screaming out of in the opening of the iconic 1984 movie. And out front, you'll see the two guardians of the library—the world-renowned pair of marble lions that stand proudly before the majestic Beaux-Arts building at Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street in Manhattan.</p><p>Did you know they had names?</p><p>The pair, sculpted by Edward Clark Potter and carved by the Piccirilli Brothers, were initially named Leo Astor and Leo Lenox, after two founders of the library, John Jacob Astor and James Lenox.</p><p>They were placed on their pedestals just days before the opening of the Main Branch on May 23, 1911.</p><p>In the 1930s, mayor Fiorello LaGuardia nicknamed them “Patience” and “Fortitude,” two qualities he thought New Yorkers needed to weather the Great Depression.</p><p>And since that time, that’s what they’ve been called.</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/-DQbT7t3r_8o/YK-YhN8zEMI/AAAAAAABTwc/F8joZZ589JoArUiSSQPkFaOGmiPO2Vf2wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1280/crop-1911_LoC_Opening%2BDay_0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="911" data-original-width="1280" height="456" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DQbT7t3r_8o/YK-YhN8zEMI/AAAAAAABTwc/F8joZZ589JoArUiSSQPkFaOGmiPO2Vf2wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h456/crop-1911_LoC_Opening%2BDay_0.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="text-align: left;">New York Public Library, Opening Day 1911 (</span><a href="https://www.loc.gov/item/2014689221/" style="text-align: left;">Library of Congress</a><span style="text-align: left;">)</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“No greater thing is created suddenly, any more than a bunch of grapes or a fig. If you tell me that you desire a fig, I answer you that there must be time. Let it first blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Epictetus</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />Why does leadership call for patience?</p><p>Well, in one case, patience gives a leader an opportunity to remain calm. To practice the opposite of anger.</p><p>And in an age when crises loom at every moment and stress is threatening to creep up on us like Jack the Ripper, patience is indeed a virtue—armor against emotion-driven reactions, both from without and within.</p><p>Have you found yourself warming up to someone who is impatient and quick to fly off the handle? Likely not. The leader who is patient is the leader who is respected.</p><p>Even better, in addition to demonstrating to your colleagues that you can’t be ruffled by challenges that are thrown your way, <strong><a href="https://hbr.org/2020/09/becoming-a-more-patient-leader">recent research has uncovered additional benefits of patience</a></strong>:<br /><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><span style="font-size: medium;">When leaders demonstrate patience, their employees’ self-reported creativity and collaboration increased by an average of 16% and their productivity by 13%.</span></strong></em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://ctt.ac/kGNe0" target="_blank">Click to tweet this quote</a></b></p><p><br />When you show patience, your team’s performance improves.</p><p>You’ve heard the adage “Slow and steady wins the race.” Well, when you exhibit patience, you convey to your team that a more measured pace is acceptable. And in doing so, they’ll make fewer unforced errors.<br /><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p style="text-align: center;"><em><strong>“Humility is attentive patience.”</strong> </em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>— Simone Weil, 1940</em></p><div><hr /><br /></div><h2><strong>The Alternative to an Apology</strong></h2><p>I promised you a different approach to apologizing for your tardiness, and I won’t let you down. Especially since you’ve been so kind to read the entire newsletter.</p><p>The next time you’re late to a meeting or call, instead of saying “Sorry I’m late,” simply say this:</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><h3 style="text-align: center;"><em>“Thank you for your patience.”</em></h3><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><p>This is a magical phrase—one that takes the focus off of your shortcoming and places it on the virtue of your counterpart.</p><p>Suddenly, you have gone from victim to hero with five short words. You’ve given your colleague a gift by demonstrating <strong><a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/humility/id1561294951?i=1000516365399">leader humility</a></strong>—acknowledging their human dignity.</p><p>It’s a subtle but powerful behavior. And the beauty is that it reflects well on you <em>and</em> on your colleagues.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{"url":"%%share_url%%","text":"Share","class":null}"><br /></p><div><hr /></div><h1><strong>Coming Up</strong></h1><p>The next guest on the <em><strong>Timeless Leadership</strong></em> podcast is <strong>Ted Wright</strong>. As CEO of Fizz, Ted has been on the forefront of word of mouth marketing for more than two decades. And of all the practices of marketing, word of mouth may require the most patience.</p><p>Join us at 12:00 pm EDT on Thursday, May 27. <strong><a href="https://lu.ma/rkq2dtby">Set a reminder here</a></strong>.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 image2-460-460" 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%2Fe6d0986f-35ab-44e2-b4e3-b771a2925bc6_1080x1080.png" style="height: 0px; padding-bottom: min(100%, 460px); width: 100%;" target="_blank"><img alt="" data-attrs="{"src":"https://bucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/e6d0986f-35ab-44e2-b4e3-b771a2925bc6_1080x1080.png","height":1080,"width":1080,"resizeWidth":460,"bytes":609126,"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%2Fe6d0986f-35ab-44e2-b4e3-b771a2925bc6_1080x1080.png" style="max-height: 460px; max-width: 460px;" /></a></figure></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><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. 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 data-dashlane-frameid="28549" frameborder="0" height="320" scrolling="no" src="https://www.timelesstimely.com/embed" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></p><div id="B0C4B41C_0B6F_B887_32D0_376C9C8559E5"><div></div></div><div id="1C3D0C7D_ABD9_AA0E_5834_523E2A0BEEB7"></div>

Patience and Fortitude

  Waiting  by Jean-François Millet, 1860 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons  CC0  1.0 ) “Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting. That is...

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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. 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-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; max-height: 450px; max-width: 100%;" width="480"></iframe></p></div>

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...

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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...

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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...

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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> <hr /> <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><div class="captioned-image-container" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><figure><p style="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></figure></div>

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...

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Finding Hope

<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/-EhZcM3cpDU0/YHc7Ys8GJ0I/AAAAAAABTI0/BkumzpDD4Dcx0NhfG70FApUKvXiPoqFuACLcBGAsYHQ/s1024/Friedrich%2BJustin%2BBertuch%2B-%2BA%2Bdepiction%2Bof%2Ba%2Bphoenix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="809" data-original-width="1024" height="506" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EhZcM3cpDU0/YHc7Ys8GJ0I/AAAAAAABTI0/BkumzpDD4Dcx0NhfG70FApUKvXiPoqFuACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h506/Friedrich%2BJustin%2BBertuch%2B-%2BA%2Bdepiction%2Bof%2Ba%2Bphoenix.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/Phoenix_(mythology)#/media/File:Phoenix-Fabelwesen.jpg">A depiction of a phoenix</a></em><span style="text-align: left;"> by Friedrich Johann Justin Bertuch, 1806 (public domain - Wikimedia Commons, </span><a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/" style="text-align: left;">CC BY-SA 3.0</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>“Afflictions sent by Providence melt the constancy of the noble minded but confirm the obduracy of the vile. The same furnace that hardens clay liquefies gold.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Charles Caleb Colton, c. 1820</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /></div><p><br />I just returned from a week in Phoenix. Some time away in the land of perpetual sun gave me an opportunity to reflect, amid early morning walks in the desert.</p><p>Yet it wasn’t until my return yesterday that I found the red thread for the week.</p><p>Arriving home last night, I realized that today is April 14. A day that always affects my mood.</p><p>As a student of history, I’m acutely aware of events of the past. And April 14 marks two solemn occasions less than fifty years apart: the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, who was shot on the evening of April 14, 1865 at Ford’s Theater, and the sinking of the <em>Titanic</em>, which struck an iceberg in the North Atlantic at 11:40 pm on April 14, 1912.</p><p>Every year, I reflect on the events that led up to and resulted from each of these two tragedies, feeling a sense of sadness and loss, but also contentment and hope in their aftermaths.</p><p>How is it possible that the tragic death of one of America’s greatest presidents and of more than 1,500 souls could be something to evoke any kind of positivity?</p><p>In short, there is hope and positivity in nearly everything, <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/look-for-the-helpers">if you are willing to look for it</a></strong>.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label><pre class="text"> </pre></div><h2>The Chickens Knew</h2><p>In <em>On the Banks of Plum Creek</em>, the fourth book in Laura Ingalls Wilder’s <em>Little House on the Prairie</em> series, the family was beset by a plague of grasshoppers. As they fell from the sky, the grasshoppers enveloped everything on the ground, and began eating their way through trees and wheat fields.</p><p>Yet there was a glimmer of hope: the chickens, who normally were used to chasing grasshoppers around the yard and not catching them. But in the deluge, they simple stretched out their necks and consumed insect after insect.</p><p>Laura’s mother managed to see the silver lining in the cloud of grasshoppers:</p><blockquote><p>“Well, we won’t have to buy feed for the hens,” said Ma. “There’s no great loss without some gain.”</p></blockquote><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><strong><em><strong>“The disaster takes care of everything.”</strong> </em></strong></em></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: right;"><em>— Maurice Blanchot, 1980</em></div><em><br /></em><p></p><div><hr /><br /></div><h2>Two Tragedies, One Lesson</h2><p>Similarly, with President Lincoln’s assassination, his fame and accomplishments only grew stronger in death. That he was able to sign the Emancipation Proclamation, get Congress to sign legislation outlining the 13th Amendment, and give such powerful and timeless speeches—the <a href="https://millercenter.org/the-presidency/presidential-speeches/november-19-1863-gettysburg-address">Gettysburg Address</a>, his <a href="https://millercenter.org/the-presidency/presidential-speeches/december-1-1862-second-annual-message">Second Annual Message to Congress</a>, and his <a href="https://millercenter.org/the-presidency/presidential-speeches/march-4-1865-second-inaugural-address">Second Inaugural Address</a>—all in the span of four short years, make his towering achievements all the more impressive.</p><p>His death shocked the nation, but out of his was born greater attention to the timeless virtues he helped us consider.</p><p>With the <em>Titanic</em>, we witnessed the terrible result of man’s vanity—the audacity to fly in the face of nature (“God himself could not sink this ship,” Captain Edward J. Smith brazenly declared.)—when greeted with the reality of an iceberg and a poor design.</p><p>In the aftermath of the 1,500 deaths in the frigid ocean that night, hearings uncovered a sad fact: that the ship was designed according to all laws and regulations of the day; but those rules hadn’t kept pace with technology.</p><p>The tragedy resulted in new regulations requiring ships to carry enough lifeboats for all passengers, and engineers redesigned the watertight compartments of the Titanic's sister ship.</p><p>Each of these situations, and hundreds of others we can probably conjure up, can leave us with feelings of sorrow and hopelessness. And while it’s important to <strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/good-grief">acknowledge our grief</a></strong>, it’s just as important to determine how we move forward.</p><p>A leader’s job is to find the way forward and to encourage others along. To look for the glimmers of hope and resultant lessons that emerge from unfortunate events.</p><p>Like the phoenix, the mythological bird that rose from the ashes of its predecessor and gave its name to the city at the cent of the Valley of the Sun, we have an opportunity to shine brightly in the aftermath of calamity.</p><p>We just need to seek out the positive.</p><div class="preformatted-block"><label class="hide-text" contenteditable="false"></label></div><p><br /></p><div><hr /></div><p><em><strong><br /></strong></em></p><p></p><h1><strong>Additional Reading</strong></h1><p>Recommended: these three previous newsletters in which some of the above topics were covered.</p><p><strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/renewal">Renewal</a></strong> (springtime, holidays, the Apollo moon landing, and thoughts on the pandemic)</p><p><strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/humility-or-futility">Humility or Futility</a></strong> (a great read on the anniversary of the sinking of the <em>Titanic</em>)</p><p><strong><a href="https://www.timelesstimely.com/p/exposing-our-imperfections">Exposing Our Imperfections</a></strong> (a look at the power and danger of vanity)</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><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></p><div><hr /></div><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><br /></figure></div><p><span 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:</span></p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><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></figure></div>

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 ...

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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...

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