Chapter 27      

Take care of the little things

Have you ever put the lid on a simmering pot of pasta only to have it boil up all over the stove? Our station was just like a pot of boiling water with the lid on. Without regular maintenance to check the state of affairs small niggles built and built, until they exploded. It can be the same in any workplace or family.

The bacon war

We had a situation that I call ‘the bacon war’. Trouble had been brewing and the station was under siege from a nasty but powerful blight that was pervading and undermining our happy little community. Like most insidious attacks, it was happening right under our noses and simmered for months before reaching its inescapable boiling point.

I was sitting in my office planning the resupply for November. There was a lot to think about. One question that was plaguing me was how to deal with people on station that head office and I were considering for NTR — Never to Return. Antarctica is not for everyone of course. It takes a certain flexibility to work and live together for months at a time. I had people over winter who were great ‘on the tools’ but lacked the self-awareness and self-confidence to make it a smooth journey for the rest of the expeditioners. By midwinter I was spending up to three hours a day dealing with personal issues, coaching, counselling and helping people deal with their daily, amplified struggles. One of these people was incredibly taxing on my time — one day it was tears, the next day tantrums, the next day a massive hangover. This person wanted to come back next year, but for the sake of the next Station Leader I would discuss this with head office and recommend against it.

As I pondered the issue and drafted and redrafted my assessment there was a knock at the door.

‘Boss, we need to call a stop-work meeting.’

‘Why?’ I asked.

‘It's about the bacon. The whole station is up in arms and it can't continue.’

‘What's wrong with the bacon?’ I was completely oblivious.

‘Well, it's about how the bacon is cooked on Monday, when Kirsten has the morning off. Some of us want it crispy and crunchy, and others like it soft. It's out of control!’

I took a deep breath. Okay, I thought, you want me to stop a $20 million program to discuss how to cook the bacon on Monday mornings? Yes, I can see how that would look in my monthly report!

‘Come again?’ I asked. Surely there was something else occupying their minds.

‘Well, the plumbers like it soft and the diesel mechanics like it crispy.’

‘So?’ I said, still unsure of the implications of this information.

‘Well, the plumbers are cooking it soft, and the diesel mechanics are cooking it crispy, and I think we need to have a meeting to decide how to cook the bacon.’

Yep, this was a big one. I reacted instinctively. ‘No. We will not stop work at taxpayer's expense to discuss this. The entire team is on a roster to cook on Monday mornings so when your time comes just cook it how you like it! Swings and roundabouts.’

So I didn't call the stop-work meeting for the bacon.

But the bacon war wasn't about bacon

I thought that was it. Decision made. Job done. Move on. Only, the ‘little thing’ of the bacon was just a symptom. As word got around about my less than ground-breaking decision, other related issues began to emerge. This wasn't about bacon at all; it was the manifestation of a long-running dispute between the diesel mechanics and the plumbers about how to keep their utility vehicles clean. So, if it wasn't about bacon, what was it about? Respect.

The diesel mechanics had accountability for maintaining the fleet of station vehicles, while the plumbers had responsibility for looking after the ute, which had been allocated to them. Some of the mechanics believed the plumbers were not looking after their vehicle properly and were therefore creating more work for the mechanics when it came time to service the ute. They felt, rightly or wrongly, that the plumbers were deliberately being disrespectful.

Apparently both groups had discussed the issue several times but the situation hadn't improved. In fact, in the boredom and close confines of an Antarctic winter it had simply ‘grown’, until eventually it became a real sticking point.

Rather than the opposing groups trying to have the conversation again, the issue manifested itself through the bacon war. The person complaining about the bacon had drawn a link between the plumbers’ disrespect of the vehicles and their deliberately cooking the bacon in a way they knew was disliked by other members of the team. The bacon war was a battle for respect. And disrespect is most often shown, not in the big bold moves, but in the little ways people treat each other. Once I'd worked this out, I stepped in quickly and dealt with the core issue.

I had experienced a similar situation in my previous role as a Chief Ranger. Early in my tenure I had held a workshop to bring my people together and start to build some effective teamwork. Each person was given six Post-it notes and asked to write down the three things they enjoyed most about their work and the three things that they disliked most. I then collated and, where possible, grouped the responses. The answers were quite telling. The three most common responses to ‘What I like most about my job’ were:

1. I have a pretty good work–life balance.
2. I do a job I enjoy and the community respects.
3. I know what I'm supposed to do. (In business school this is called ‘clarity of purpose’.)

All three responses were high-level, big-picture issues. The three most common answers to ‘What I dislike most about my job’ were:

1. People smoke in the work vehicles.
2. People traipse mud through the office with their dirty boots.
3. People bring back the fleet cars with no petrol left in them.

All three responses were detailed, small but significant issues that had an effect on our enjoyment at work. I had worked out back then that it's critical to take care of the little things so the big things, like teamwork, stand a chance.

Bacon wars are symptoms of deeper issues, usually about respect

As leaders our role is not to be the parent, and we're not there to sort out every little spat between team members. But we do have a responsibility to use our judgement and understand what are small, interpersonal differences that we all must tolerate, and what behaviours are in fact symptoms of a deeper issue.

In some offices people leaving dirty coffee cups in the sink can drive others to despair; in some investment banks I have worked with the issue is often night traders leaving their dinner dishes or pizza boxes lying around; in some primary schools it's the teacher who habitually starts their yard duty a few minutes late. In families it may be someone not putting away the clean washing and letting it fall on the floor and get walked on, leaving lights on or leaving wet towels on the floor. These are bacon wars. On the surface they all appear to be simple, insignificant things. But dig a little deeper and you'll find they could be signs of a bigger cultural issue around teamwork and respect.

Mr Scrapey

I had one team member who had an annoying little habit of scraping his cutlery along his plate. For me, listening to this noise was excruciating. It just drove me nuts. It happened at every meal, three times every day, and it was slowly driving me crazy. After several months I could tolerate it no longer so I developed a coping strategy of being the last person to arrive for meals. That way I could choose to sit as far away from this bloke as possible.

Yet my fiendish plan didn't work and somehow, some way, he managed to be seated near me every single time. Every time! I had already spent considerable time coaching my team about the importance of addressing issues that were affecting us and not letting them simmer away. Given our total isolation, with no way out, for nine whole months, I figured it was best to sort this out quickly!

The problem was he was also one of my best expeditioners, a great team player. He was the person who noticed we were running low on toilet paper and got the forklift out and took the toilet paper off the racks in the green store and restocked the bathrooms — without being asked. He cleaned windows and common areas that needed some love and attention — without being asked. He was kind, cheerful, intelligent, sensitive and loyal to my leadership. All the things you want in your people, apart from the plate scraping.

So it was a dilemma. I needed to do something to preserve my sanity, yet I felt this was one of those unconscious human foibles and I just needed to show tolerance and accept that people are different. What to do?

These type of incidents came thick and fast over winter. We apparently needed a meeting to work out who was putting the milk jug back in the fridge without milk in it, who was leaving the weights on the barbells in the gym, who was making up the orange juice concentrate incorrectly, who put three pieces of leftover garlic bread in the fridge after dinner, and who was leaving the lint in the clothes dryer!

As the winter progressed and the sun slowly started to climb its way back to the frozen continent, I realised that true leadership comes from knowing when to intervene in these ‘little’ things and when to just suck it up. Knowing when to step back, step in, diffuse or escalate an issue is a key skill for leaders and will be covered in detail in my next book.