CHAPTER 7

MAKE SURE THOSE
WIRES HAVE GOOD
INSULATION

“First pride, then the crash— the bigger the ego, the harder the fall.”¹

—ANCIENT PROVERB

Iwill never forget the news conference in which Democratic Senate candidate Martha Coakley fielded questions from reporters. At the time, Scott Brown, her opponent in the special election following Massachusetts Senator Ted Kennedy’s death in 2009, was rapidly gaining ground in the polls. The outcome was important nationally because if Coakley lost, Senate Democrats forfeited their ability to shut off a filibuster. Coakley, however, was overconfident because many considered her victory to be guaranteed. When a reporter asked if she planned to step up her somewhat passive campaign efforts, Coakley shot back, “What do you expect me to do, go over to Fenway Park and shake hands with people in the cold?”²

Whether you supported Coakley’s candidacy or not, you would probably want to say, “Well, yes, Martha, you probably should go meet the people you intend to represent!” Her statement in both tone and sentiment dripped with narcissism and arrogance. How could she fail to see that her statement (and more important the belief behind it) would seal her doom? Did she not even care about how contemptuously her comments would be viewed?

Scott Brown meanwhile drove all over Massachusetts for many months in an old pickup truck meeting the voters, and he soundly defeated Coakley for the coveted U.S. Senate seat. Coakley had done what many considered impossible—lose the Kennedy seat to an upstart. Voters really did not like Coakley’s arrogance and proved it when they temporarily put Brown in the job. It was clear to even her most ardent supporters that Coakley had moved beyond typical arrogance to its more extreme form—hubris.

THE HIGH COST OF ARROGANCE

In the ancient Greek culture, hubris denoted insolence and even violence. Acting in a superior manner and belittling others was a crime in Greek culture. Greek plays portrayed characters with hubris as having a fatal flaw—they always met their demise.³ Coakley seemed like a modern-day version of a flawed character from a Greek tragedy. Her arrogance blinded her to her vulnerabilities. Her lack of respect for the voters in Massachusetts caused her to lose the Kennedy seat to a Republican.

The Greeks coined the word hubris, but other cultures also condemned the terrible flaw of arrogance. Obadiah, a Hebrew prophet, told an overconfident nation of Israel, “You have been deceived by your own pride.”⁴

There is a clear connection between overconfidence and moral failure. Arrogance often results from unbridled power. Power pushes us toward an unruly self-focus and fosters beliefs that are simply not true. Lord Acton’s observation that “Power corrupts” recognizes that there is something about the nature of unregulated power that gets inside us and subtly influences our beliefs. Then we start believing really dumb things like, “I don’t have to follow the normal rules.”

Wisdom recognizes our vulnerability and prompts a vigilant inventory of anything that leads to arrogance, abuse of power, faulty assumptions about our own importance, or decisions guided by self-serving impulses. As noble as our intentions might be as we assume a leadership role, we are always one errant, unthinking action or careless word away from getting outside the boundaries of good judgment or even the moral absolutes that must frame all decisions.

As noble as our intentions might be as we assume a
leadership role, we are always one errant, unthinking
action or careless word away from getting outside
the boundaries of good judgment or even the
moral absolutes that must frame all decisions.

As we discussed in Chapter 5, outright failure and the short tenures of many leaders have become all too common. A position of leadership is more fragile than we might believe. General Petraeus, for example, served as director of the CIA for only thirteen months before he was brought down by a lapse in judgment.

Arrogance is a corrosive element that erodes our core. It results from unmonitored and unchecked power. You may remember a high school chemistry lab experiment that shows how a metal plate is turned to mush by sulfuric acid. Arrogance is the ultimate sulfuric acid poured upon the steel plate guarding our core.

How specifically does arrogance harm our core? First, arrogance is a major obstacle to self-awareness. It cuts off the information so critical to the regulation of power. Coakley simply could not see the hubris in her “take it for granted” campaign efforts. She possessed a huge blind spot with respect to how her behavior affronted voters in her state.

Second, arrogance also deceives us. Coakley had served for many years as Massachusetts Attorney General and thought she deserved the Senate seat—she was entitled. She apparently did not see that she had to continue to earn voters’ trust.

Third, arrogance distances us from others. We can become aloof to the interests and needs of others. It causes us to believe that as a leader, we are placed in a position to be served by others versus being in a role from which we serve. Followers do not trust leaders who will not mingle with the rest of us. Bob Nardelli, former CEO of Home Depot, commandeered an elevator in the lobby of the home office building such that it went from his personal parking place in the basement straight to his office on the top floor without stopping at any other floors. Employees naturally resented this, and the elevator became a glaring symbol of his arrogance. The board eventually fired Nardelli because, among other factors, employees did not engage with his vision. His arrogance obscured their ability to see where he wanted to take the company.

Arrogance distances the very people we need to help us accomplish our vision. Video conferencing is a wonderful technology, but it is also easy for a leader to develop the “Wizard of Oz syndrome”—a leader behind a curtain somewhere. Do not be like Nardelli, who stayed on the top floor of the Home Depot office building and ate only in the executive dining room with the private chef. Be present with the people you want to lead as often as possible. Be visible. Eat in the regular cafeteria with normal folks whenever your schedule permits.

We also have to be really conscious of verbal references. I consulted with a company for a number of years in which the leader frequently in private and public referred to his very large department as “Ladies on floor.” At the time, the overwhelming majority of his employees were women who handled largely clerical tasks. The managers were mainly men. I know it is only three words strung together, but the thoughtless arrogance that phrase implied was stunning. In many cases, organizations develop shorthand references for communicating expediently; however, be careful what a shorthand reference such as “Ladies on floor” might inadvertently convey.

We must be intentional about how we want others to feel in our organization. I often recommend executives not have reserved parking places. Sure, the convenience is nice, but those signs that say “Reserved for the President” invite perceptions that she is “a cut above the rest of us.” Do we want followers to feel that we are more intelligent than they are? Do we want them to be sure they treat us like the big kahuna? If yes, we are certain to find a way. If we instead want people to feel affirmed and valued, then we must look at them, listen to them, and thank them and treat them as equals.

Our nonverbal communication is critical. Recently I observed a bank executive who actually purported to value humility. As he spoke, his head went back and each finger and thumb on one hand touched the corresponding finger and thumb on his other hand. He held this pyramid of fingers just under his chin and looked very professorial. Others visibly recoiled at the arrogance captured in the nonverbal signals he sent. Our body language seldom lies and may unconsciously reveal our shadow. As noted earlier in the book, lack of self-awareness can get us in trouble in a hurry.

THAT VERY DANGEROUS GAME OF WHO GETS CREDIT

As we grow in power and influence, arrogance has the potential to promote an undeserved overconfidence that falsely convinces us, “I did this.” We overestimate the importance of our own contribution and ignore or diminish the contributions of others. Humility is an honest acknowledgment of the truth about me, my capabilities, and my role, while simultaneously recognizing the contributions of others. Mike Volkema, chairman of Herman Miller, the manufacturer of high-end office furniture, told me that, in his experience, members of a team who promote their own interests too aggressively or take individual credit for what a team accomplished “get cut from the herd pretty quickly.”⁵

A guy who worked in my firm years ago used to dominate meetings with his comments on everything. Lack of knowledge or expertise never proved to be a barrier to his weighing in on a topic. Most of his contributions felt more like a lecture. Other team members complained to me about his arrogance. I sat down with him one day to point out his rapidly diminishing credibility with the team. He explained that in his previous firm, the person who commanded the most air time in meetings won the best assignments and garnered the most respect from the team. He had not embraced the very different culture in our firm, where shameless self-promotion worked against his interests. Unfortunately my feedback did not work, and he was soon cut from the herd.

THE ANECDOTE TO ARROGANCE

It has been well-documented that humility is a characteristic of great leaders, but an important question is why. Essentially, humility is a key preventative that keeps us from going down that terrible path of personal destruction we see too often in leaders. If arrogance is the mother of all derailers, then humility is the mother of all safeguards.

If arrogance is the mother of all
derailers, then humility is the mother
of all safeguards.

We sometimes get confused about humility, thinking that we have to diminish ourselves to be humble. C. S. Lewis said, “Humility isn’t thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less.” Humility acknowledges that arrogance brings us down in a hurry. We should feel good about a significant accomplishment, but it should not foster that arrogant form of pride that says, “I’m the smartest guy in the room and deserve credit for this accomplishment.” Guarding our core means we must keep arrogance at bay. Confidence is desirable, but we need to avoid slipping into over-confidence. It may be hard to define technically where the line is, but we generally know it when we see it. Great leaders affirm others frequently for their contributions to a given outcome.

“Humility isn’t thinking less of yourself,
it’s thinking of yourself less.”
—C. S. LEWIS

I don’t know about you, but humility has, at times, seemed a bit squishy to me. I grew up watching Clint Eastwood movies. Harry Callahan is the iconic tough guy, and, trust me, “Dirty” Harry is not humble. When he chases down the bad guys, he is dangerous:

       I know what you’re thinking, punk. You’re thinking, “Did he fire six shots or only five?” Now to tell you the truth, I forgot myself in all this excitement. But being this is a forty-four Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and will blow your head clean off, you’ve gotta ask yourself one question: “Do I feel lucky?” Well, do ya, punk?⁶

Yeah, Harry, pull that trigger. We love a maverick, because they live on the edge and keep us unsettled. The only problem is that this is not how normal people really live. People usually do not follow a maverick. They just observe him or her with great interest, wondering how long it will be before the maverick implodes. People follow a leader they trust, not one who provides great entertainment value.

Naval officers often refer to the “integrity of the hull.” When a submarine comes out of dry dock, the first exercise is called a “sea trial,” which takes the submarine to depth in the ocean to test the integrity of the hull. If integrity is compromised in any way, such as a poor weld, the stress from the increased pressure of deep water will inevitably find that weakness.

Some of the toughest, most resilient leaders I know are also incredibly humble. Humility is not weakness. Rather, humility is personal armor that wraps around our core like the hull of a submarine. Inside a submarine are people, sophisticated electronics, weapons, and the nuclear reactor core, all of which need protection. Likewise, humility must be strong and all-encompassing to protect our personal core from the inevitable stressors in our lives.

POWER USED WELL

Perhaps most important, humility protects us from the pernicious influence of power. Humility places a governor on our power, so that we use it in measured quantities. Recently a gifted young manager who had worked his way up the organization chart over a number of years in a client company was promoted. He now reported directly to the CEO and had a huge responsibility. The break room talk even whispered his name as a candidate for the CEO’s position at some point in the future. I watched with interest over a number of months to see how he would handle his newfound power and how his new peers would accept him. He handled the transition masterfully because he was humble—a characteristic he had exemplified since entering the company some years before. He was self-deprecating in a humorous way and reached out for help from his peers to learn his new responsibilities. He also continued to relate well to the managers at his previous level. It actually made people like him more and affirmed the CEO’s judgment in promoting him to the larger role in the company. Be vigilant to not let power provoke its insidious distortion of your importance.

One of the greatest stories in ancient literature tells of a woman who had great impact, because her power was enveloped in humility. Full of deception and intrigue, this story also reminds us of a reality TV show. A young woman named Esther becomes queen to the most powerful monarch of the day. How Esther came about this position sounds like an early version of The Bachelor.

The story begins with the previous queen arrogantly embarrassing the king in front of his friends—not a smart move. She is sent packing, and a search begins for a new queen. Scouts gather eligible young women from provinces around the kingdom to compete in a beauty contest with a large number of contestants. The king picks Esther, clearly the hottest of the group, to be the new queen, and all the other contestants get voted off the island (am I mixing up TV shows here?).

The plot thickens, and a diabolical villain who hates a particular race of people conspires to murder all the members of that race living in Persia. The villain, who works for the king, guilefully organizes legislation to legitimize their genocide, not knowing that Esther is a descendant of the race for which he intends ill.

As the narrative unfolds, we learn that besides being beautiful and charming, Esther recognizes that she has been made queen for a purpose—to protect the lives of thousands of people. Esther demonstrates tremendous courage by risking everything to save this group of oppressed people. She realizes that she could ignore the villain’s schemes, keep her racial background a secret and just be rich, enjoy her position as queen, and have an easy life. Instead she wants her existence to count for more than ease and recognizes that she exists for a purpose that transcends her own comfort.

Esther seeks to influence the king, even though her uninvited pursuit of the king’s audience is a capital crime unless he intervenes. Just before she crosses the threshold that may end her life, Esther’s adoptive father challenges her with the idea that she lives “for such a time as this.” She resolves, “If I perish, I perish.”

A variety of factors contributed to Esther’s impact. Certainly her beauty, intelligence, political skill, and courage were vital, but her humility garnered the king’s loyalty and respect. She could have stormed into the king’s chamber and demanded justice for an oppressed people. Rather, she showed great respect and deference in how she approached him. Humility undergirded her every word and action.

Fortunately for many thousands of people about to be exterminated, Esther’s humble petition moved the heart of the king. Justice prevailed, her people were spared, and the villain was hung on the seventy-frve-foot gallows he intended for Esther’s adoptive father.

You either have or likely will have significant power at some point in your career. A question we must ask ourselves is do we have our power and the arrogance that can accompany it fully in check. Some of the most important tests in our lives usually do not have a long runway. They suddenly appear, and we have our own moment “for such a time as this.” The exercises below may help you gauge your readiness.

In our charisma-driven culture, being humble may not be cool and hip, but it sure beats the cratering of our careers and lives. A universal principle is implied in the opening quote of this chapter, but particularly for leaders, arrogance is the mother of all derailers. This book is about protecting our core and making the impact for which we hope. Humility performs a critical role in protecting us from the terrible dangers of arrogance, power, and self-absorption. Be vigilant about humility.