I coach a lot of “nice guys” and some who wonder why people don’t realize how nice they are “on the inside.”  And here’s the sad part:  often the ones who others perceive as “nice” are working for the ones who are… er, in their own words… “misunderstood” by others.  That is to say, other people often think these leaders are domineering jerks.  But that interpersonal roughness is the edge of a skill set that gets them promoted over and over.  And it gets them promoted over the “nice guy” who might also be considered for the job.

Why is that?  And how can people win when they’re both ambitious and committed to being kind, courteous, and connected with other people?  Here’s the bottom line:  Being “nice” only holds you back when it stops you from addressing key issues with bottom-line importance.  Consultant Eric Allenbaugh taught me, years ago, a valuable distinction:  You can be soft on issues or hard on issues.  And you can be soft on people or hard on people.  True jerks are hard on people, no matter where they stand on issues.  The most promotable people are always those who’re hard on issues.  Unfortunately in most corporate cultures, they can be hard on people and still rise.  It’s my mission, however, to help people become truly extraordinary leaders:  hard on issues, while being soft on people.  That is to say:  keep the “nice” approach to people, but without confusing “nice” with indirect, indecisive, or following consensus. 

My “misunderstood,” hard-on-people, hard-on-issues clients are learning to build in warmth, connection, and empathy so they are just as tough on issues, but softer on people.

And my “nice guy” clients are learning that they finish first when they lean into the goodwill they’ve generated by being soft with people.  They risk a little of that social capital they’ve earned in spades, by being direct and decisive, and teaching other people how to deliver what they want.  What they find is that the risk pays off:  they begin to earn the same respect accorded their tough-guy bosses, but with all the fun and connection of a nice-guy approach.  No one gets mad or says, “wait!  I thought you were nice!”  They thank them for the guidance and clarity.

What if we knew that was the way it was supposed to go?  After the bright colors of Autumn (at least here in the northern latitudes!) we progress to cooler weather and shorter days.  Though we may grumble about summer heat or winter cold, most of us aren’t actively battling the cycle itself.  So wouldn’t it be nice if the march of personal progress were as familiar and accepted a cycle?  Could we relax into it – for all its struggles – if we knew and embraced the stages that were coming?

First, we don’t know what we don’t know.  Then we become aware that we need to learn something.  We start trying on the new skill or behavior or attitude.  Then,  just as we gain a little,  the awareness of how much more is possible lands with a thud.  Humbled, we struggle to keep integrating what we’re learning.  The new stuff feels clunky.  We question its value.  We remember that – to the best of our recollection – the old way was easier.  “Didn’t it work better than this, even?” we ask.  And maybe it did, because it was familiar and we are now in learning mode.  With time and practice, though, the new way – if we stick with it – gets easier.  More fun.  More effective.  And eventually becomes “second nature” – we can’t remember ever being any other way.  Learn? I didn’t learn this!  This is just how I am!

You’re really swamped, so attending the cross-functional team meeting today is really a stretch.

You have a 1:1 scheduled with a member of  your team, but that’s the only time today your client can meet.

You’re late to a meeting, so you take a seat at the back of the room, rather than squeezing in at the table.

In situations like these, it’s easy to justify your absence or the lower participation level that’s so tempting when you’re under pressure.  You’re aware of the cost to you of not exercising or not getting time with your people, and you can deal with that cost.   The real cost is subtle, insidious, and you often won’t hear about it.  The real cost is that other people miss you.  They miss your contribution.  Your ideas in the meeting.  Your enthusiasm (or just your sweaty pulse there beside them) in the exercise class.  Even if you reschedule for the same afternoon, there’s a loss when you don’t keep that appointment with your employee.  These small costs, the faint trickle of lost energy, lost value, loss trust, loss connection, add up.  If you want better results in your life and work, and more satisfaction with your day-to-day experiences, count these costs.  Minimize the number of such leaks.  And circle back to reduce the cost when they must happen.

It’s nearly impossible to be aware of the impact our mere presence has on other people.  Glimpses of the degree of power we hold just through our showing up are always humbling.  You matter more than you know.

I was reminded of my mentor Thomas Leonard, father of – not so much coaching itself, but – coach training.  Through Thomas’ incredible acumen, systematic training, and eventually, personal mentorship, I was able to begin the career of my dreams when I was not quite 23 years old.  It would have taken me another decade or two, without him, to build a corporate track record that could stand up tall enough to match the surgically-targeted coaching skills he gave me in just two years.  Naturally, the ensuing decade has made me much more masterful, but Thomas gave me a priceless jump start.  When he died suddenly in 2003, a deep feeling of gratitude washed over me:  deeper than any I succeeded in feeling or expressing during his lifetime.  I saw – I felt – that he had made me.

Someone made you.  Not to discredit your dedication and hard work, your smarts and your wisdom.  But like me, like George Foreman and Joe Lewis, someone laid the foundation or created the industry or even became an adversary who insisted that you shine.  Your gratitude for having been “made” will deepen both your humility and your pride.  Both appropriate.

“One thing we have learned from working on organizational and systemic change is that the leaders are hard to identify in advance.  Sometimes they are CEOs or presidents, but often they do not occupy positions of obvious power in a corporate hierarchy.  They are not the flag wavers, campaigning vocally for change, but rather passionate individuals working to transform their organizations from the bottom up.  They are most often open-minded pragmatists, people who care deeply about the future but who are suspicious of quick fixes, emotional nostrums, and superficial answers to complex problems.  They have a hard-earned sense of how their organizations work, tempered by humility concerning what any one person can do alone.  They often do not think of themselves as leaders, but time proves them wrong.  This is the sort of person for whom we have written this book.”

I quote this passage because I am heartened that Sara and I share an audience with Senge et al.  You open-minded pragmatists, agents of the necessary revolution, conscious conveyors of emergent understandings within your organizations, your families, and your communities:  you are our heroes, and it is to you that our work is dedicated.  In the coming weeks, I’ll be distilling some of my favorite ideas from “The Necessary Revolution” (and probably beseeching you to read it yourself) and elaborating on the spots where its authors’ points overlap with what Working with Power does with clients every day.  For now, know that if you do not think of yourself as a leader, time will prove you wrong.”

We have another take on this idea, too:  there are simple changes that make a profound difference, often in an area where we’ve been working very hard to improve, with little satisfaction.  For one of our clients, it was holding 1:1s with his direct reports.   He hadn’t been prioritizing that, and thought he didn’t have time.  But he was spending a ton of energy fire-fighting and helping his people work around one another.  Once he started scheduling and showing up for a bi-weekly 1:1 with each member of his team, the fires died down.  The chaos cleared… for all of them.  He feels like he has more time.  Not to mention the returns to the bottom line.

And last week, my yoga teacher casually mentioned that her metabolism improved when she cut out gluten (wheat and other related grains all have gluten in them).  I’m thinking about getting pregnant again within the next year or so, and want to drop a bit more “baby fat” before I do so.  I’d been struggling to make changes in my diet, because so many things felt like deprivation and feeding my son keeps my appetite in high gear.  Since I heard that thought about minimizing gluten, though, it’s just been very obvious, easy, and deprivation-free:  “I minimize gluten.”  That means I don’t “see” the bread basket on the table at lunch. I’m not tempted to add a peach-passion fruit scone to my chai order at Neptune (sorry, Dan!).  And the scale is moving, even though I haven’t deliberately eaten LESS of anything except, well, gluten. 

What’s the 2% effort that might make a 98% difference in an area where you’re struggling?