22

Be a Gatekeeper, Not a Gate Blocker

The more powerful one gets, the more protective one can become. Of what? Of time, of territory, of the world one manages for the boss or for oneself. Such instincts may feel good for the moment, but over time they can be obstructive.

Stakeholders looking at what you do and how you do it may see you as a legitimate gatekeeper who provides access to people, places, and things or a gate blocker who uses barriers and excuses as obstacles to progress. Arrogance and self-serving resistance to providing assistance to both insiders and outsiders can create a toxic workplace environment where people fear to tread.

I’ve been fortunate to work for bosses who may not necessarily have kept their door open every moment but were approachable if you knocked on their door. That promotes a healthy organizational climate. It also carries over to subordinates. In my case, unless I was having a private conversation with a staff member or visitor, my door was always open to others.

One day, not long after the first Gulf War in 1991, there was a knock on my open Pentagon office door. Standing there with a big smile on his face was an army sergeant who had been the enlisted driver for my former boss, Admiral Bill Crowe. I hadn’t seen Sergeant First Class Michael Rodriguez since the admiral retired as chairman of the Joint Chiefs in September 1989. Mike had gone on to drive for people in the White House.

“Sir, do you have a second?” he asked. Mike told me he needed a favor and felt comfortable asking me. The “why me?” wasn’t clear, but I nodded and listened. He told me his uncle owned a fish market in the Boston area. Moreover, the now late General Norman Schwarzkopf was his hero for having achieved victory on the battlefield against the Iraqi army in Operation Desert Storm earlier that year. So far, I was happy for his uncle and for Stormin’ Norman, as the general was known.

Then came the ask. “In gratitude my uncle wants to send General Schwarzkopf a lobster,” Mike said. “In Saudi Arabia or when he gets home?” I asked. “Right now, while he’s in Riyadh,” Mike said. “And I know,” he went on, “that if anyone can get it to him it’s you.”

Nice of you to think so, I thought. I’m not even a fan of H. Norman Schwarzkopf, Jr., and I don’t do magic. However, I was intrigued with the notional challenge of getting a live crustacean to the table of the Central Command commander some 8,000 miles away before the lobster expired.

“Promise nothing to your uncle,” I told Mike, “but I’ll see what I can do.” After he left, I asked myself: Legal? Yes. Moral? Yes. Fattening? Yes. Worth it? Yes, but not without considerable coordination and a dose of luck.

This movement had a lot of moving parts, literally and figuratively. Between a thousand other things going on in my life, I picked away at gathering information. Did the general even like lobster, and if he got one, would he eat it? Yes, came the curious answer from Saudi Arabia. What military air base was closest to Boston and flying cargo to that theater? Hanscom Air Force Base in Bedford, Massachusetts, some 20 miles outside of Boston. How long could a lobster survive in dry ice and seaweed? Up to a week give or take if packed well. How big would the lobster be, oh, by the way? Most likely 24 to 26 pounds came the answer. This translated to an elderly lobster, some 75 to 100 years of age.

The key to success was the receptivity to the idea by the staff at Hanscom. Starting at the top, I called the base commander’s office and asked for his chief of staff. Could he, would he? Several calls and weeks later the answer came. If you can get the precious cargo to the flight line by 9:00 a.m. on Sunday, there is a flight going to Riyadh with a stop in Rota, Spain, to refuel.

The next call was to Mike Rodriguez. Can your uncle deliver the designated cargo on time to Hanscom? For sure, was his answer. Last call to Riyadh. Can someone retrieve the cargo and get it to the general’s orderly to put it in a large kettle, boil it, and put it on the table? Table is set, they said.

After several calls with the folks at Hanscom and those in Riyadh the next Wednesday, I was assured the lobster had made it. Long, tough journey for the old boy.

My satisfaction lay in having successfully been a gatekeeper who had opened some doors for three people. Nothing further was required, but it came in the form of a reward the next Friday night. Sitting outside the front door of my home, on the stoop, was an unmarked cardboard box. Cautiously I opened it to find a large live lobster and a note from Mike Rodriguez saying, “My uncle thanks you.”

The English poet Alexander Pope captured it best when he wrote, “Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.” Actually, as someone who was born in Boston but moved to Maine at age 15, I was delighted with the seafood blessing.

If you are a traffic cop for your boss, you control many things: access or not, the color of the lights—red or green—and the atmospherics that accompany who goes where and who sees whom. Of course, you should validate the need. Ask the right questions and set the limits of time and the takeaway.

When I retired with Colin Powell in 1993, I started as a staff of one person who took the calls, controlled the calendar, and set the limits of access. Less powerful in my mind than purposive. Ask the right questions: what and why? If the reason was weak, the response was a polite “Right now the schedule won’t permit.” Never was the boss the reason for the rejection; better the calendar or the clock.

Before a visit or phone call made it onto the calendar, I would clear it with the boss, accompanied by a recommendation of why or why not to consent to the meeting or phone call. Scrupulousness was the gauge, and merit was the metric.

Never block access to the throne because you have the power to do so; give or deny access to it because it’s the right thing or not. If you find yourself someday knocking on a door and not being answered, you will better understand that power can be corrosive and ultimate power can be ultimately destructive if it is not managed wisely.