7
Conflict

… Such were the usual psychological hazards of an isolated community. Cliques, quarrels and tension hung in the background. There was the irritation of all too familiar faces, and no hope of escape. … Above all, however, it was essential to believe in the leader, and Shackleton possessed the power of forestalling trouble without actually appearing to do anything.¹

—Roland Huntford

Conflict: The very mention of the word can raise feelings of anxiety. Competent executives who fearlessly enter the competitive marketplace often go to great lengths to avoid interpersonal friction. Yet conflict is a predictable component in the volatile mix of attitudes and emotions found in organizations at The Edge. It comes in many forms: direct arguments, disagreements, sabotage, and passive aggression.

If handled ineptly or suppressed, unresolved tension can be incredibly destructive. At the Survival Edge, it can result in loss of life, either through physical attack or breakdowns in teamwork. For organizations in which physical survival is not the issue, conflict can mean decreased productivity, increased stress, wasted energy, and diminished problem-solving ability. It can also result in an unhappy workplace; loss of revenue; vulnerability to competition; and, ultimately, organizational death.

This chapter looks at cases in which conflict has spun out of control and resulted in the loss of lives, along with examples in which conflict was managed effectively under the most stressful conditions. It illustrates how proactive leaders can skillfully use conflict to their advantage in creating and sustaining higher performance.

Deal with Anger in Small Doses

The Karluk expedition (described in Chapter 1) suffered from a gaping leadership hole created by Stefansson’s abrupt departure, and by the subsequent inability of Captain Robert Bartlett—who was left behind with the ship—to create a cohesive team. The fatal effects of this fragmentation became magnified as the months wore on and conflicts erupted unchecked among the members of the ill-fated expedition.

In a sledge march even more grueling than that faced by Shackleton, Captain Bartlett managed to lead the remainder of the Karluk expedition across the ice from the trapped ship to land. Having reached the relative safety of Wrangel Island, however, Bartlett saw no alternative but to leave the exhausted survivors and set out for help.

Leaving fifteen surviving members behind, Bartlett and his Eskimo guide, Kataktovik, began their journey to Siberia in a snowstorm on March 18, 1914. It was a treacherous 200-mile journey across the floating, unstable sea ice. On April 5, 1914, the two exhausted travelers reached land and were soon taken in by a party of friendly Siberian Inuits.

Bartlett and Kataktovik rested for two days with the Inuits, but—concerned about those left behind on Wrangel—set out once again with their weary dogs. On April 25, 1914—thirty-seven days after leaving Wrangel—Bartlett and Kataktovik arrived at the Siberian settlement of East Cape. They had covered about 700 miles of ice and shoreline and had averaged almost 20 miles a day, in what has been called the “most dangerous ice journey ever made by human beings.”²

As heroic as this effort was, it was not until May 1914, when the ice had broken up, that Bartlett was able to find a ship to take him to Alaska. After arguing with a telegraph operator who refused to send a message without advance payment, Bartlett was finally able to send out messages telling of the plight of the Wrangel Island castaways.

While Bartlett tried frantically to mount a rescue effort, the already shaky community of the Wrangel Island survivors continued to deteriorate. Quarrels broke out constantly. The responsibility of leadership had passed to Chief Engineer Munro, who was placed in command on the island. Munro, who had earlier developed strained relations with a number of his shipmates, was no Frank Wild.

Further undermining a sense of unity, the party split into four subgroups, each of which was free to do as it pleased. The rationale for this arrangement was that it would increase hunting opportunities. However, it also had the effect of increasing the centrifugal forces that were pulling the group apart.

McKinlay, the expedition meteorologist, observed:

… [I]n our very mixed community we had all the seeds of future disaster. In normal circumstances we might have got by as very ordinary chaps, our frailties and idiosyncrasies unnoticed by any but our nearest and dearest. A good leader might have brought out the best in everybody. … But on our own, the misery and desperation of our situation multiplied every weakness, every quirk of personality, every flaw in character, a thousandfold.³

Biscuits became a major source of dispute. The men shouted obscenities in arguments over an eighth of a biscuit. Crewmembers accused each other of plotting to hide hunting spoils. When game was shot, the fortunate hunters gorged themselves rather than share their bounty, or lied about what they had shot.

At times, conflict escalated to the point where there were threats of violence. One enraged member of the party threatened to shoot another, and Breddy, the fireman, was found shot dead. Although the incident was apparently suicide rather than murder, a search of his effects uncovered numerous items Breddy had stolen from his comrades.

Attempts to talk through the disagreements momentarily helped dampen the conflicts, but the truces were only temporary. Incredibly, people became so argumentative and preoccupied that they forgot Bartlett’s last instructions: to meet a rescue ship at Rodgers Island. This oversight almost cost them their lives.

On September 7, 1914, the nine surviving members of the Karluk were rescued by the schooner King and Winge. The castaways were so dazed that they first ignored the rescuers, then—finally—stumbled across the ice to the ship. Eleven of their comrades had died: eight on the ice, two of malnutrition, and one of a gunshot. Conflict and lack of unity had destroyed the ability of the team to function at The Edge.

The Karluk is but one of many survival accounts in which an inability to deal with conflict played a destructive role. The infamous Donner Party is another tragic example in which petty disagreements escalated into violence and disaster.

In 1846, the eighty-seven members of the Donner Party left St. Louis, Missouri, for California. One of the pioneers, Milt Elliott, was driving a team of oxen and attempted to pass in front of another member of the party, John Snyder. They became entangled on a narrow path. An enraged Snyder began beating Elliott’s oxen furiously with his whip. John Reed, the leader of the party, rushed over to try to stop him. Snyder was further angered by this act and lashed out at Reed and his wife with his whip. Reed, now himself overcome with rage, drew his hunting knife and subsequently murdered Snyder.⁴

The fight lasted only seconds, but the disastrous event had a terrible outcome. First, it fractured whatever sense of unity existed among the families:

… [T]he evil feelings that had been loosed that day … were not to be again confined. The emigrants were no longer a “company”; they were only a number of family groups each for itself, some of them ready to cooperate only where manifest good was to be gained for themselves. Hatred and inhumanity walked beside the wagons.⁵

Second, precious time was wasted dealing with the aftermath of the murder. The train encamped. A council was created to deal with the event. Written depositions were taken. People called out for vengeance. Further shooting was threatened, as the pioneers took sides.

Finally, a compromise was reached, and Reed was allowed to leave without firearms. The resentment remained, however, and the delay was to prove tragic. The Donner Party reached the summit of the Sierras only to be trapped by blinding snow. The horror, cannibalism, and unbelievable suffering that followed can, once again, be traced to the inability of the party members to deal with conflict.

The destructive conflict seen in the Donner Party and the Karluk expedition stand in stark contrast to the way conflict was handled by the crew of Endurance. In part, Shackleton’s effectiveness in dealing with conflict may have come about because he knew—at first hand—just how destructive conflict could be. On the earlier National Antarctic Expedition, Shackleton’s relationship with Robert Scott disintegrated to the point that the two men barely spoke to one another. They quarreled about almost every crucial issue, including diet, discipline, and dogs. Scott’s impatience and quick temper, his ineptness at decision making, and his often-pessimistic attitude were constant annoyances to Shackleton. This tension was a steady drain on their efforts to reach the pole and was only eased by the intervention of Edward Wilson, the third member of the team.

Shackleton, however, had more than direct experience. He had also studied the records of other explorers and accounts of previous expeditions, including the fate of the Belgica. The Belgica, which carried the Belgian Antarctic expedition, was caught in the ice in 1898 and drifted for more than a year in the ice of the Bellingshausen Sea. The Belgica was the first ship to winter in the Antarctic, and the experience was not a happy one.⁶ Boredom, paranoia, hopelessness, and dissidence affected most of the crew. One man drowned and three went insane before they were able to break out from the ice and return to South America.

Determined to avoid the fate of the Belgica’s crew, Shackleton viewed teamwork as critical to the survival of the Endurance’s crew and effective conflict management as one of his most critical leadership tasks. As in other aspects of his leadership, Shackleton was first and foremost a role model. He knew that it was critical for him—as the leader of the expedition—to set an example in dealing with the inevitable tensions and strains caused by the close quarters and by the physical and emotional stress suffered by the crewmembers.

Shackleton was not a man without emotions—in fact, he was known to have a quick temper. He worked, however, to maintain his composure, to step back and assess difficult situations, and to help his men find a resolution. This was especially true in times of ambiguity or stress when he “appeared to drop his moods … and stretch out a soothing hand.”⁷

Shackleton also encouraged his men to keep him informed of any disagreements so that he could keep abreast of mounting tensions or damaging alliances. During the first months of the expedition, for example, the eccentric Orde-Lees had a number of encounters with the other men on the ship. He was one of the few who had spent time in the military, and he continued to adhere to many of the protocols of service life.

This was often a source of conflict. On one occasion, in his role as storekeeper, he asked a sailor for a receipt for some Heinz chutney. The practice of asking for receipts was common in the Royal Navy, but it offended his mate, who complained to Shackleton. According to Orde-Lees’s diary, Shackleton “said that it was contrary to the spirit of … the Merchant Service … he was very nice about it … but I could see he was displeased.”⁸

Shackleton used instances such as these to communicate what he found acceptable and unacceptable behavior. He was also able to be proactive and defuse problems that could distract the men or sap their much-needed energy. Furthermore, resolving a problem early on prevented it from becoming a larger issue.

In spite of all this attention to conflict, there were times when tensions ran high. The most serious conflict took place during the first July, when Endurance was beset in the ice. John Vincent—an able seaman and by all accounts a bully—began exchanging words with several other crewmembers. In Hurley’s words, Vincent began to call the men “evil names” and he “struck them.”⁹ When Shackleton got wind of the altercation, he made it clear that this behavior would not be tolerated under his command. Vincent was demoted and that was the last recorded incident of physical violence.

Perhaps this incident, early on in the journey, reinforced in Shackle-ton a view that the men needed to be able to release on a daily, if not hourly, basis the stress and negative feelings they felt. Small arguments took place throughout the day. The men would argue about which way the wind was coming from, or how far they had floated in the previous week. A person who stepped on another as he left a crowded tent was subjected to fierce reproach. A man who failed to close the tent flap when going out in the middle of the night to relieve himself heard about it from everyone. If snow were knocked into shoes or chores were not done correctly, people would be reminded of their transgression in no uncertain terms.

This norm of releasing anger in small doses did not depend solely on Shackleton’s skillful leadership. It continued under Frank Wild, who was left in charge of the party on Elephant Island. In fact, Wild had a superb ability in knowing just how to orchestrate the conflict dynamics of the men under his charge:

For men growing heartily sick of the same faces around them, bizarre, lurking conflict was a part of daily life. … Everybody at some time wrangled with neighbors in the hut about encroachment on their floor space. Wild would allow them all to let off steam and then, just when they appeared on the verge of blows, would defuse the situation with sweet arbitration.¹⁰

The daily life of the Endurance crew, then, was an endless stream of small arguments and minor disagreements. They were sometimes good-humored and sometimes not. But there were few hostile or serious interactions. This culture of letting off steam defused conflict, and it prevented incidents from gaining momentum and becoming serious. Said another way, a series of small tremors prevented a major earthquake.

Lessons for Leaders

Conflict is a pervasive element in any organization, particularly in those that press their performance limits. The challenge is not how to eliminate conflicts but, rather, how to manage them in productive ways that strengthen bonds among team members.

Ironically, the emphasis on teamwork in today’s corporate culture can serve to drive conflicts underground. In this subterranean state, unresolved issues become latent sources of tension. How often, for example, have you attended a “polite” meeting that ended with smiling faces—only to hear subsequent hallway and restroom discussions about the “real” issues? Or seen deep differences of opinion devolve into a lukewarm compromise that no one truly supports?

There are several reasons why conflict, anger, and negative feelings need to be dealt with directly and in small doses. First, conflict not expressed means that problems are not being confronted. Second, conflict not expressed directly surfaces in other, nonproductive ways. Unnecessary arguments erupt over peripheral issues, and team members sabotage others in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. Finally, as in survival situations, conflict not expressed and resolved can escalate out of control, with disastrous business consequences.

In spite of the importance of managing conflict, being proactive about dealing with disagreements can be difficult for many leaders. In an honest but misguided desire to promote harmony, otherwise skillful executives avoid the tough issues or fail to create a climate in which conflict is freely expressed.

Perhaps the first step in promoting healthy conflict is to understand—and really to internalize—that conflict and caring are not mutually exclusive. The extraordinary example of Shackleton’s crewmembers sharing their milk in the middle of a heated argument makes this point vividly.

The second step in dealing with conflict is to create an effective process that encourages team members to surface their differences and to identify those lurking problems that need to be addressed. An approach that I have found quite effective for this purpose comes from an unusual source.

Some years ago, when I first began to work with senior leadership teams, I encountered a great deal of difficulty and frustration in getting executive teams to confront sensitive issues, and that affected their performance. At the time, I was teaching a course at Yale in which I used a “family systems model” as a lens for looking at the dynamics of organizations.

With this approach, I analyzed organizations as if they were families to see what insights this perspective might generate. I understood that organizations were not really families, but I thought this metaphor might provide a fresh perspective on organizational dynamics. I also thought it might help explain the persistence of organizational problems that defied rational analysis. After all, no one expects families to be rational!

One aspect of the family systems theory that proved to be particularly valuable was the notion of the “family secret.” Family secrets are emotionally charged, taboo topics. In family life, they often center on drug or alcohol dependencies, marital difficulties, and personal idiosyncrasies of various kinds. Most family members are aware of the “secrets,” but these forbidden subjects are never openly discussed. When conversation moves in the direction of a secret, the anxiety level rises palpably.

The executive teams I was dealing with seemed to resist sensitive issues in much the same way that families avoid confronting secrets. So I decided to try an experiment and approach these taboo team topics as if they were family secrets. The next question was how to surface the issues.

Family systems therapists use a number of images to represent secrets, but none of them seemed quite appropriate for use in an organizational setting. After some thought, I chose a metaphor I thought would work: the Moose on the Table.¹¹ It seemed to me that the image of a large, hairy, ungainly moose—sitting in the middle of a table and blocking communication—vividly symbolized the issues being avoided by the group. And, while imposing, the moose was a goofy enough critter that it would add an element of humor to otherwise tense situations.

With some trepidation, I began to use the Moose on the Table in my consulting work. Although the metaphor initially raised some eyebrows, I was amazed at the ability of the Moose to surface issues that had long been ignored. In one leading technology organization, for example, the CEO and his team were struggling with their inability to create and manage new businesses successfully. They knew this was a fundamental problem, but they were unsure of why it persisted.

As part of a study organized to unravel the mystery, I presented the family systems model and conducted a “Moose Round-Up.” The results were astonishing. The “Moose List” in the team’s final report included the following issues:

  We approach every new product as if it must be a home run, achieving the same level of success as our earliest successes.

  We are, in fact, becoming a technology-averse company.

  The revenue plan drives our resource allocation and decision-making process.

  We have developed a tolerance for mediocrity.

  We are looking for a “magic product” to save the company.

  We have no real competitive marketing competence.

  The operating plan cycle is not flexible enough to allow timely response to business initiatives.

The report (see Figure 7-1), along with a stuffed moose, was presented to the CEO, who accepted it with a smile. The conclusions were not ones he was delighted to hear, but he knew that—once identified—the issues were ones that could be systematically attacked.

Over the years, my colleagues and I have brought the Moose on the Table to scores of organizations throughout the world. There are times in which substitute animals are needed: For example, the Water Buffalo on the Table made an appearance in Asia. Whatever the form, however, the image has always succeeded in getting conflict out in the open, where it belongs.

Why is the Moose metaphor so effective? I believe that this ungainly animal does several things very well. First, it legitimizes and rewards people for being open, and it provides a shared vocabulary for doing so. “In the spirit of the Moose, I’d like to say …” becomes a common phrase. Second, the comic image takes the edge off issues that can create tension and divisiveness. Third, identifying an issue as a Moose provides psychological distance. It reframes the issue from an internal conflict to an external problem to be solved. Once the conflict becomes a shared problem, team members can work together to find solutions.

Figure 7-1. The Moose on the Table.

Engage Dissidents

The men of the Endurance spent countless hours, day after day, talking or sleeping in their crowded tents to avoid the elements and pass the time. Shackleton recognized that these close quarters could be breeding grounds for discontent, and his keen awareness of the difference in people’s personalities and needs was vital in minimizing destructive conflict among the crew.

Shackleton studied everyone and appeared to know when he, or others, might have gone too far. Macklin, the surgeon, described Shackleton as someone able to ask you “little things about yourself, how you were getting on … and all that sort of thing. … Sometimes when you felt he’d been perhaps a bit ruthless, pushing you round a bit hard, he seemed to have the knack of undoing any bad effect … with these little intimate talks.”¹² Shackleton clearly recognized that hurt feelings needed immediate attention to prevent anger or resentment from building.

During the crew-selection process and early in the expedition, Shackleton identified individuals whose attitudes or behavior could either adversely affect morale or be seen as a challenge to his leadership. Instead of limiting his contact with these men, he brought them closer into his fold.

The photographer, Frank Hurley, for example, always needed to feel that others saw him as one of the leaders of the group. If he felt slighted of the attention he thought he deserved, he would become aggressive and difficult. Hurley’s need to be recognized earned him a place in Shackle-ton’s tent, and the Boss consulted him on key decisions. This supported, in Hurley’s mind, his own prominence among the ranks, and thus helped ensure his support.

Shackleton saw value in selecting certain other tentmates as well. He bunked with the physicist, Reginald James, out of concern that his “withdrawn academic manner” would cause him to be teased by the other men. Shackleton did not want to expose one person to excessive ridicule for fear it could escalate into a full-blown altercation.

When Shackleton had to choose his crew for the open boat journey from Elephant Island to South Georgia Island, he was again mindful of allowing potential troublemakers unlimited access to the emotionally and physically worn-out crew. Shackleton felt that McNeish’s skills as a carpenter could prove invaluable on a wooden boat, but he also wanted McNeish to accompany him for another reason: Shackleton was concerned that, left behind, McNeish could stir up discontent.

He also selected Vincent to make the trip. Because of Vincent’s reputation as a bully, Shackleton thought better of leaving the seaman behind to create trouble for Frank Wild. Finally, Shackleton chose Crean, who was less of a team player and was also likely to create problems for the marooned castaways.

In retrospect, Shackleton’s foresight and his willingness to deal directly with dissidents is rather astounding. When he needed to select a team for the most difficult challenge he had yet to face—the crossing to South Georgia—more than half of his crew consisted of potential troublemakers. Shackleton’s willingness to maintain close relations with these questionable characters, however, undoubtedly mitigated the conflicts that occurred on Elephant Island, and it helped Wild with his formidable task of maintaining morale among those left behind.

Lessons for Leaders

In difficult leadership situations, we are often tempted to ignore or isolate individuals whose personalities rub us the wrong way or who have a knack for stirring up trouble. Although this is an understandable reaction, it is the wrong one. It only creates space for further problems, and rejecting dissidents is ultimately detrimental to the organization. A more productive response—however counterintuitive it may seem—requires doing just the opposite:

  Identify those individuals or groups that might be undermining your leadership.

  Be proactive and keep troublemakers close by.

  Find ways to minimize the negative impact of their behaviors.

  Make sure these people are engaged, in some way, in the decision-making process.

  Treat everyone, including dissidents, with respect, even when they are antagonistic.

  Be willing to set limits, and make it clear that this works both ways. Inappropriate, rude, or bullying behavior cannot be tolerated.

  Avoid the temptation to denigrate malcontents and keep your personal opinions about people to yourself—and your closest advisers.

Leaders who are proactive in dealing with individuals who have the potential to be dissidents can avoid antagonistic relations further down the road.

In one company, two men were equally capable for the job of CEO. One got the job and one became the COO. In order to prevent unnecessary conflict, the CEO decided to share the limelight by insisting all public appearances be attended by both of them, including all photographs and company meetings. This reinforced the message that they were a team, and the inherent acknowledgment of the COO’s work in making the new venture a success was a huge motivating factor for the COO. As a result of these efforts, what could have been a disaster turned into a complementary relationship. Together, they led the company in creating a new culture, a solid friendship, and an exciting new venture.

Avoid Needless Power Struggles

In December 1915, more than a year after the Endurance crew had set sail from South Georgia, there was still no prospect of rescue and no end of the journey in sight. Shackleton could feel the morale of his men slipping. He had heard grumbling that, since the ship had been destroyed and they could not carry out their mission, the men would not be paid. Some began to believe that they were enduring these torturous conditions for nothing, and they worried for the safety of their family members at home who were depending on the income.

Shackleton believed that he had to act. He could not let his men continue to feel sorry for themselves and wallow in anger or frustration. He thus decided that they would make a second march across the ice toward land. On December 22, the party celebrated Christmas early, eating as much as they wanted to fortify themselves for the journey ahead, and then they started out at 4:30 the next morning.

As before, two teams of fifteen men each pulled the boats and sledges weighing over 1,000 pounds. As in the previous march, they would sink to their knees in the soft, wet snow. Their progress was excruciatingly slow. They were averaging just two miles a day. Four days into their journey, McNeish, who was close to collapsing from the combined effects of exhaustion, starvation, and exposure to the elements, simply decided that he would no longer go on.

Worsley ordered McNeish to pick up his section of the rope and continue. McNeish refused, arguing the march was useless. Worsley, himself on the verge of exhaustion, called for Shackleton, who stood facing the angry and frustrated carpenter. McNeish argued that the march over the ice was not in their best interests because they would never be able to cover the distance they needed to reach their destination.

Shackleton stood quietly by while McNeish lashed out. The carpenter declared he did not have to obey any orders, because the ship’s articles were not enforceable. He argued that he was no longer obligated to follow orders, since the articles he had signed were to serve “on board,” and they were no longer aboard the Endurance.

With all of his men watching the first real challenge to the Boss’s authority, Shackleton turned his back on McNeish and walked away. He knew that he could not reason with the carpenter, and did not want to waste energy on a pointless argument. Shackleton simply left the carpenter standing in the snow—giving him time to come to his senses.¹³ After weighing his options, McNeish took his position at the rear of the sled when the expedition set out again. The one-man mutiny had been put down without further conflict.

Lessons for Leaders

It is vital to decide which battles are worth fighting and which are not. The battles worth fighting should be engaged with all available resources; those not central to your mission should be let go.

When a situation cannot be resolved immediately, you may, like Shackleton, choose to leave your “McNeish” standing in the snow until you can assess the situation realistically. It is better to wait until you are prepared than to respond in haste and further escalate the problem.

It is particularly important to avoid creating situations in which people feel trapped, causing them to escalate conflicts because they see no way out. The Roman general Scipio advised giving opponents a “golden bridge,” an avenue of retreat, arguing that an enemy with no way out will fight with unprecedented ferocity.

Scipio’s maxim applies to nonmilitary situations as well. A golden bridge resolved a business conflict among three colleagues—Tom, Elizabeth, and Patrick—who were at loggerheads over a dissolving partnership. Their hopes of maintaining a profitable business with strong friendship had not been realized and—after months of trying to revive the firm—it became clear that there was no chance of solving their differences.

Patrick, in particular, felt aggrieved and rejected. He responded by making financial claims that Tom and Elizabeth found unreasonable. The haggling continued, lawyers were called, and the careers of all three were stalled. Finally, Elizabeth came up with an idea.

All three had made an initial investment in the company, and the amount remaining in the partnership bank account included this investment, plus a small additional sum. Elizabeth proposed that the partners each withdraw their initial investment and that Patrick receive the remainder. Although the leftover money amounted to only a few hundred dollars, Patrick accepted the offer. The proposal provided a golden bridge, a way to end the stalemate. A needless power struggle was avoided and the three partners moved on with their lives.

Expedition Log

1. What are the norms about conflict in your organization? What is the level of openness? Do team members share their opinions openly and deal with problems directly, or do they raise conflict in oblique, indirect, or passive-aggressive ways?

2. What changes can you make that will allow anger to be dealt with productively and in small doses?

3. How many Mooses are there in your organization? Are there taboo topics that affect performance but are never discussed? Consider a Moose Round-Up, or some other proactive way of initiating a discussion about these off-limits topics.

4. What is your characteristic style of dealing with troublemakers, skeptics, and malcontents? Do you engage them or push them away? Is there a dissident you could “pull into your tent” and engage productively?

5. Are you, or others, engaged in any nonproductive power struggles? Is there anyone who is your “McNeish in the snow”? If so, how can you move your expedition forward without compromising your authority and position of leadership?