So, you have selected for talent and you have defined the right
outcomes. You have your people and they have their goals. What
should you do now? What should you do to speed each person's
progress toward performance?
Great managers would offer you this advice: Focus on each
person's strengths and manage around his/her weaknesses. Don't try
to fix the weaknesses. Don't try to perfect each person. Instead,
do everything you can to help each person cultivate his talents.
Help each person become more and more of who he already is.
This radical approach is fueled by one, simple insight: Each
person is different. Each person has a unique set of talents, a
unique pattern of behaviors, of passions, of yearnings. Each
person's pattern of talents is enduring, resistant to change. Each
person, therefore, has a unique destiny.
Sadly, this insight is lost on many managers. They are ill at
ease with individual differences, preferring the blanket security
of generalizations. When working with their people, they are guided
by the sweep of their opinion -- for example, "Most salespeople are
ego-driven" or "Most accountants are shy."
In contrast, great managers are impatient with the clumsiness of
these generalizations. They know that generalizations obscure the
truth: that all salespeople are different, that all accountants are
different, that each individual, no matter what his chosen
profession, is unique. Yes, the best salespeople share some of the
same talents. But even among the elite, the Michael Jordans of
salespeople, their differences will outweigh their similarities.
Each salesperson will have his distinct sources of motivation and a
style of persuasion all his own.
This rampant individuality fascinates great managers. They are
drawn to the subtle but significant differences between people,
even those engaged in the same line of work. They know that a
person's identity, his uniqueness, lies not just in what he does --
his profession -- but in how he does it -- his style. Peter L., the
founder of a capital equipment rental company, describes two unit
managers, one who is a terrific salesperson, networking the
neighborhood, joining local business or community groups, literally
wooing customers into the fold. The other is an extraordinary asset
manager, who squeezes life out of every piece of machinery by
running the most efficient workshop in the company. Both of them
excel at their role.
Guy H., a school superintendent, manages two exemplary school
principals. The first principal is, what he calls, a "reflective
practitioner." He consumes libraries of journals, stays current
with educational theory and teaches others what he has learned. The
second operates exclusively out of a sense of mission and a natural
instinct for teaching. There is no educational jargon in her
school; just boundless energy and a passion for learning, however
it happens.
One of the signs of great managers is that, like Peter and Guy,
they can describe, in detail, the unique talents of each of their
people -- what drives each one, how each one thinks, how each build
relationships. In a sense, these managers are akin to great
novelists. Each of the "characters" they manage is vivid and
distinct. Each has his own features and foibles. And their goal,
with every employee, is to help each individual "character" play
out his unique role to the fullest.
Their distrust of generalizations extends all the way to the
broader categories of race and sex. Of course, great managers admit
that your cultural influences will shape some of your perspectives,
giving you something in common with those who shared those
influences. An affluent, white female living in Greenwich,
Connecticut might have a more benign view of the world than, say, a
young Hispanic male growing up in Compton, California. But, in
their view, these kinds of differences are too broad and too bland
to be of much help. It would be more powerful to understand the
Striving talents of this particular white female, or the Relating
talents of that particular Hispanic male. Only then could you know
how to help each of them turn his talents into performance. Only
then could you help each one live out his individual specialness.
For great managers the most interesting and the most powerful
differences are between people, not peoples.
This is a grand perspective, with far-reaching implications,
but, to hear great managers describe it, it's just common sense.
Here's Mandy M, a manager of a twenty-five person design
department: "I want to find what is special and unique about each
person. If I can find what special thing they have to offer, and if
I can help them see it, then they will keep digging for more."
Gary S., a sales executive for a medical device company,
describes it in even more pragmatic terms: "I deliberately look for
something to like about each of my people. In one, I might like his
sense of humor. In another, I might like the way he talks about his
kids. In another, I'll enjoy her patience, or the way she handles
pressure. Of course, there's a bunch of stuff about each of them
that can get on my nerves. If I'm not deliberate about looking for
what I like, the bad stuff might start coming to mind first."
For Mandy, Gary and other great managers, finding the strengths
of each person and then focusing on these strengths is a conscious
act. It is the most efficient way to help people achieve their
goals. It is the best way to encourage people to take
responsibility for who they really are. And it is the only way to
show respect for each person. Focusing on strengths is the story
line that explains all of their efforts as managers.
Next week: The blind, breathless climb.