CHAPTER 3

THE LOVE BEHAVIORS

OK, so your authors had an argument over this chapter. Well, not really an argument, but a spirited discussion! The problem is, we agree on what you’re about to read, but we also agree that it comes with risks. So maybe we didn’t disagree at all. Here’s what we mean.

There comes a time in every book when the reader is looking for the tips, the secrets, and the to-dos. Authors present a concept, define it, and then tell you how to get there. It’s a simple and efficient methodology. It sells books, but it’s not terribly effective. And that has been the shortfall of most leadership approaches, to our minds. Oh, the terminology is catchy to be sure. By suggesting that the following are the THREE BIG THINGS you need, or the FOUR BIG THINGS you need to do, this methodology lessens the importance of the main message—in this case, love.

One can’t certify oneself in love. You can’t check the box; get a red, yellow, or green belt; or read a few bullets, even the ones we present below, and consider yourself suitably prepared. Those are window dressing. They’re a cheap and easy way to lay claim that one is now officially a certified loving leader. Spare us.

You can understand our concerns about offering, in this case, the THREE BIG THINGS we want you to think about, where love is concerned. When we make the argument below, we are not trying to convey the idea that these are the secret ingredients of love—they are not. You can’t check a box and say, “Got it—next?” They are a conscious choice. They require deep introspection and intentional work over the course of our lives. They are principles you have to think about and try in all types of situations and environments. Remember, this is your choice to make. They are what we consider most important if and only if you can approach this with love first, genuinely, from the heart.

Your Love Choices

Self-Awareness

Parker Palmer, in his book Let Your Life Speak, poses a vexing question. He ponders how long it takes for a person to become the one that he or she has always been (Palmer 2000). How long does it take to become the person one has always been? Think about this for a minute. No, seriously, one full minute. Don’t cheat. Go.

Welcome back. Palmer was onto something when he penned this haunting question. What he knew was that we often mask ourselves, and he suggests that we do so in faces that are not our own. But the primary reason why Palmer’s challenge is such a good one is that he taps directly into the most fundamental component of emotional intelligence: self-awareness.

Emotional intelligence (EI) has been in the forefront of leadership development for the better part of fifty years. Its impact on leadership development has been significant. Far from the metric-worship of some approaches to leadership, emotional intelligence struck a personal note. It touched the heart and soul of leaders and forced them to become more aware of themselves and others. EI for leaders now matters more than ever because, as we know, leadership is not a framework. It’s a connection between two human beings. It is a relationship.

Most manifestations of EI include at least four quadrants, though one may see them expanded to five or more. For our purposes, EI is best seen as a combination of the following:

Exploring the above components of EI would take a book unto itself, but for our purposes, and as many researchers agree, the most significant part of EI is self-awareness. Practicing self-awareness allows us to search inside ourselves to discover and rediscover the people we truly are. It’s an inward journey that frankly can be a little frightening. Seeing ourselves for who we are, not the way we wish to be seen, and not the way others see us, can bring a few surprises. Therein lies the beauty of self-awareness. As we explore ourselves, being open to seeing things we didn’t expect, we hone who we are as leaders.

Leaders who exhibit strong self-awareness are comfortable in their own skin because they know who they are. They are in tune with their emotions and feelings—especially those inner signals that beleaguer them from time to time, such as feeling defensive when we’re being offered feedback on our work. As we hear the words spoken, it’s easy to feel that bit of discomfort in the abdomen. Perhaps we shift in our seat a little, adopting a more protective posture. Inside, our mind starts to race with responses to what we may perceive as an unfair attack. In the meantime, while our brain is forming the counterarguments necessary to respond, we miss the very chance to be open to learning. We miss an opportunity to grow and develop.

Now, let’s take the above scenario and replay it using better self-awareness. As the comments come our way, we begin to feel all the emotions we described above. But because we’ve read this amazing book, highlighted it throughout, and written notes in the margins, we now know that the defensive retort that is forming is less than helpful. Bingo! We’ve just passed the self-awareness test! We were conscious of the sensations building up inside us. We acknowledged them. We know how they impact our performance. This is valuable beyond words. Simply seeing ourselves positions us to take action that would be more productive (by the way, that’s the self-management piece of EI). Now, instead of arguing our point, we open our mind to what we may be missing in ourselves and what we can learn.

Achieving self-awareness is no easy task, to be sure. This is especially difficult when we try looking through the lens of who we are today. We can become so happy with our bad selves that we make the fundamental error of assuming that what got us here will get us there. Wrong. To be fair to our bad selves, we are at a disadvantage. We groom the people that we are, our pictures of ourselves through our prisms of education, family, tradition, faith, and society. It begins with our childhood. Some grow up in regimented, formal settings with schedules and deadlines, others in a more laid-back situation. Some families struggle with conflict, while others meet it head-on. Some are huggers, some are not. Some families use language like “I love you” often. Others avoid intimacy at all costs. As we mature, the things we believe, the suppositions we make, the values we hold, are continually sculpted through life experiences.

Rediscovering self, or new parts of self, can also feel like a transition as we move from our old selves to our new selves. Perhaps it’s a first-gen college student who becomes the first degree holder in the family. It’s not uncommon for these students to have a sense of confusion as to where they came from and who they are now as they continue their journey. The same thing can happen professionally. Let’s say you begin your career working at a nonprofit that cares for the homeless. You have a deep passion for interacting directly with the needy and gain remarkable satisfaction from making a direct impact on their lives. Years down the line, you find yourself in a supervisor role, no longer interacting with those you serve, but rather with staff. The passion you feel for those you serve hasn’t dissipated, though it may feel that way since you are in a different place in the organization.

In both of these cases, your core identity is still intact. Moving into different phases of life, or different phases of self, can make us question if we have forgotten the place we came from. We haven’t. It remains. We’ve just chosen to continue growing. Think of it as a matryoshka doll—those little wooden dolls placed one inside another. Our smallest doll is our original self. We maintain the core of our original self. We don’t shed it. We grow from it. And like a matryoshka doll, we get bigger and more beautiful as we do.

One more word on this. We so often congratulate ourselves for having a third-person perspective on a problem. We take a step back, or maybe to the side, and examine the situation from another angle. Then we tell everybody how wonderful we are because we took a third-person perspective on the problem. Yay us! A far more effective technique is to take a fourth-person perspective, but it requires self-awareness. In the fourth-person perspective, we take the time to observe ourselves looking at the problem. We examine ourselves first, embracing all of the biases we bring. This is self-awareness at its finest, and it’s the first and most impactful step in getting to know ourselves. Think of it this way: If we don’t know ourselves, how can we lead or love ourselves? And if we can’t lead or love ourselves, how can we lead or love others? Start with self.

Vulnerability

Let’s just put it out there now, and maybe again later, since we really want to make this point. There hasn’t been a workplace survey in years where workers expressed their desire for their leadership to be more technically skilled than people skilled. And at the risk of frustrating our editor, we’d like to restate that: There hasn’t been a workplace survey in years where workers expressed their desire for their leadership to be more technically skilled than people skilled. It’s just the way it is. Yet leaders continue to make the same ill-conceived decision to lead from a technical mindset instead of a heart and soul mindset. Research tells us that our teams are looking for connection, engagement, and relatability. This does not happen without vulnerability.

Here’s something interesting about the software we’re using to write this book. Betcha didn’t expect that sentence, did you? And no, you did not just stray off into another book completely unrelated to love and laughter. And no, this is not a misplaced sentence for another book we are writing. This will make sense, we promise. When we type in the word vulnerability and look for synonyms, here are the selections: susceptibility, weakness, defenselessness, helplessness, openness, exposure, liability. OMG, seriously? Among the top seven selections for a synonym for vulnerability, all of them but one (openness) denote weakness in some way. Sometimes the writing gods are on our side. Read on!

Vulnerability is not the first thing we typically associate with a strong leader. Historically, leaders have been portrayed as the loud, dominant, mysterious beings who have all of the answers and all of the vision. They’re directive, to be sure. Bigger than life! It is comforting when you think about it, but it fails to allow for the engagement necessary to ensure that love is present in the workplace. Sadly, many of these boisterous leaders insist on being called by a title instead of the name they were given at birth. Maybe it’s an ego thing or an image thing, but it is not an engagement thing. And it’s certainly not a vulnerability thing.

Commonplace are the managers who fear that any display of empathy will render them as less than in charge, and far too often they view vulnerability as a lack of strength in the workplace. Fearful leaders fret over the risk of getting too close to a team member for fear of crossing some imaginary line of appropriateness. And as far as a show of emotion? No way. Tears are for the weak! Love is left at home. Leaders who eschew vulnerability will do nothing to negatively impact their stature and authority.

Fear of the v-word is not limited to personal interactions based on emotions like tenderness or forgiveness. Struggles with vulnerability may also find their origin in professional concerns. Leaders under pressure to meet their organization’s mission may be unwilling to share information for fear of exposing what they do not know. Instead of reaching out for help, they hunker down in protective mode so as not to expose themselves. They may even blame external forces like “the bosses upstairs” or the company line as their foil. This easily devolves into the use of carefully crafted language to ensure that they say only the right thing.

To be fair, we are not neurologically wired to be vulnerable. The human brain loves those horizontal pathways of thought, consistent and predictable ways of thinking that give us great comfort. These allow us to make quick decisions and move forward. Definitely helpful during an emergency, since we default to them quickly. And this certainly fosters the image of the all-knowing leader. They are able to answer questions quickly and easily with little thought. No vulnerability required.

As we learned in our examination of self-awareness, some of our fears come from very early in life. Childhood experiences play an important role in our willingness to open ourselves up to others. Sadly, people who have felt distrust and hurt in their lives may be less willing to take a chance on exposing themselves to others. People who were raised in homes that were openly loving and affectionate are more adept at being willing to open themselves up. They have felt the risks of openness, but they’ve also experienced the rewards. The hard truth is that both apply to vulnerability.

Vulnerable leaders are willing to take risks. They recognize that vulnerability is about openness—a far cry from the depiction of susceptibility, weakness, defenselessness, helplessness, exposure, and liability suggested by a synonym search. Vulnerable leaders are straightforward and honest. Instead of parsing communication in a way to avoid bad news, they are open and candid with their observations and assessments. They’re willing to admit that they don’t know, and they ask questions of those who do. They are transparent when communicating with the teams they lead, creating an environment of shared information that allows for innovation, creativity, and open-ended questions. People are better informed and more willing to be vulnerable themselves, resulting in better decisions and more trust.

The practice of being vulnerable is a powerful way to model the behavior that we seek. Those in leadership positions often underestimate the degree to which their actions and words are scrutinized by others. By exhibiting vulnerability openly and honestly, leaders emerge as a focal point in their organization. People admire the ability of leaders to engage in an authentic way with those they lead. It may be in the form of a question, or in the practice of empathetic listening, but even the humblest attempt at letting one’s guard down and relating to someone else can have a positive impact across an organization. Recognizing how we make people feel matters.

Finally, vulnerable leaders exhibit a fundamental leadership asset: they are themselves. They are original. Authentic. And they realize that being this way comes with measured risks. It’s not perfect, but it’s real, and real connects. It sends the message to those we lead that we’re not above them, we are with them. They make mistakes; so do we. They don’t know all of the answers, and neither do we. They have fears; so do we.

Look, we know there are risks here, and we’re not suggesting being haphazard or foolish. Being vulnerable doesn’t mean being an open book. It doesn’t entail sharing all the sordid details about our lives. It also doesn’t mean we don’t hold ourselves and others accountable for performance. We do. It simply means we don’t need to be the title we carry, just the person we are. It means we lead with our heart, and with love, and with caring. It means we need to be human first.

Kindness

At one point during the research for this book, we put the word kindness into Google Images. The results may surprise you. Kids. Lots of cute kids. While this is most definitely endearing, we wondered what it said about kindness. Is it just cute children, kittens, and puppies? Or something more? Why is it that when we hear a story about someone being kind, we are so amazed? Pleased, but amazed.

Kindness is not always easy to find in today’s world. Although we are more connected than ever technologically, it feels sometimes like we are more distant than ever from the human side. We live in a fast lane typified by a hyperactive environment with a twenty-four-hour news cycle that we can’t escape, divisive discourse across our nation, and precious little time for reflection. It’s no wonder that we see less and less kindness abound. Life is hard, and it got tougher after the arrival of the pandemic.

The truth is that the people we care about—our families, our friends, and those we work with—are more stressed, lonely, and afraid than ever. Life has changed significantly, and if ever there was a time for kindness, it is now. As human beings, we may be hardwired for survival, but we’re also hardwired for belonging. Our longing for kindness is real. We know it when we see it, and we know it when we don’t. And both impact us in important ways.

The types of unkind acts we witness on a daily basis are far too numerous to list here. They may involve macroaggressions, verbal or nonverbal behaviors intended to demean or disgrace someone. They may be the more covert microaggressions, which come in the form of smears, insults, or derogatory analogies. Making assumptions based on gender and sexist humor are unkind; so is poor listening. And sometimes unkindness is simply not noticing, being insensitive to the needs of others, or not saying thank you.

Researchers know that when we are a victim of unkind acts, we enter neural shutdown. We become more defensive and less open. As a simple example, if you’re in a meeting where the boss cuts you off in the middle of an explanation and derisively rolls her eyes about the data that you just presented, you’re embarrassed. You’ve been openly demeaned, and it’s even worse if others are present. Welcome to the neural shutdown phase. Couple this with a possible microaggression based on gender (“Men never understand feelings. Women aren’t fit for that type of work”), and the situation worsens. We instantly become less creative, less innovative, and less likely to contribute. In short, we go into protective mode.

Absence of kindness impacts in other ways as well. In a number of studies over the years, scientists have shown that when we witness unkind acts, we enter the same neural shutdown phase as if we were the victims. Further, the impact can stay with us for days afterward, reducing our ability to think clearly, problem-solve, and be creative. Studies of individuals witnessing unkindness paint a picture of psychologically traumatized minds that take time to recover. This means that the boss who just yelled at you in the meeting impacted not only you but everyone else as well.

Kindness looks like, well, kindness. The Dalai Lama once said to be kind whenever possible. He further stated, “It is always possible.” Those in leadership roles are morally obligated to nurture cultures of kindness in the workplace. It can be as simple as a knowing glance to someone who needs to be acknowledged. It can be a smile or touch of a hand, or really listening. Sometimes it’s about tone of voice, or eye contact, or a simple nonverbal nod to another. Kind acts are unlimited in their variety and immeasurable in their impact on others.

When we’re kind to one another, the impact is truly at the cellular level—not the phone, the body. Think biology. Studies show that kindness has the ability to improve both our physiological and our psychological well-being. Immune systems are strengthened, and stress levels are lowered through acts of kindness. We feel better and are healthier. We think more clearly. We’re happier. And according to a study in the journal Emotion, people who were treated with kindness at work were 287 percent more generous (Chancellor et al. 2018). Kindness breeds more kindness.

Organizationally, the effects of kindness multiply exponentially. Kind acts generate a positive organizational vibe that improves job satisfaction, increases productivity, and reduces turnover. The workplace becomes more sensitive, accepting, and engaged. People are perceived as more civil, more competent, and warmer. Meetings become more vibrant as people feel free to share their ideas. Our most valuable assets, people, feel safe from ridicule or targeting.

For leaders, it’s not that difficult to be kind, and humility is a good place to start. Jim Collins’s groundbreaking book Good to Great: Why Some Companies Make the Leap … and Others Don’t found that one of the two most consistent traits among leaders who took companies from good to great was humility (Collins 2001). Humility bridges the gap between senior and junior folks in an organization. As such, it’s the perfect entrée into love. Being sensitive to tone of voice and personal space matters as well. Both can send strong messages of encouragement and support. Finally, embracing noble intent matters. When we assume that people are coming from a place of goodness, we set the stage for kindness to abound.

Time for another seemingly stray comment that actually applies to the book. One of the authors drives a Jeep, and he’s nuts about it—oops, we gave away which one. Anyway, it’s an old candy-apple-red Jeep with no air-conditioning. One of the best things about this vehicle is not the open-air feel, or the big tires, or the peace-sign bumper sticker, it’s the Jeep Wave—a time-honored practice for Jeep drivers across the country. Urban Dictionary defines this tradition as follows:

What we like most about the Jeep Wave is that no matter what’s happening in life, one can always count on a friendly wave from a stranger, or more than one if your commute is a bear. A friendly gesture that can make a bad day not so bad. It’s a genuine act of kindness, beautiful in its simplicity and powerful in its effect. This is the hallmark of what kindness is. Simple, impactful. Leaders don’t underestimate the power of kindness. It’s unpretentious, it’s unassuming, and it’s a strong foundation for love.

Organizational Impact of Love

With all the focus in recent years on metrics, productivity tools, and technology, it might come as a surprise that the evidence of the impact of love in the workplace is astonishing. But not to us! Organizations are transformed when they are led by people who put love out there as their primary focus. Just look at Dawn’s and Arthur’s successes.

Research undeniably supports the impact of love in the workplace. In a landmark study, “What’s Love Got to Do with It? A Longitudinal Study of the Culture of Companionate Love and Employee and Client Outcomes in a Long-Term Care Setting,” Wharton professors Sigal Barsade and Olivia A. O’Neill found that staff who considered their organizational culture to be one of care and love were more satisfied in their jobs. They also reported higher levels of teamwork and took fewer days off. And get this, the findings were the same regardless of industry (Barsade and O’Neill 2014a). People want to love and be loved. Barsade and O’Neill’s results are typical of what the vast majority of research has uncovered about the presence of love in leadership. Stronger cultures, more engagement, greater productivity—you get the idea. And there’s more:

OK, now that we’ve hooked you on this idea of love, we must confess that there are always barriers within organizations that do not allow for the free flow of love that we espouse. Organizational culture, past practices, groupthink, toxicity, fear, and lack of trust are among the more common. But personal barriers are present as well. They’re significant, and they deserve attention.

Parker Palmer refers to the masks we wear, and it’s so true. We all wear them sometimes. It may be the mask of the supervisor, the boss, the scientist, the technician. We may wear the mask of the patient boss when we’re not; the good listener when we’re not; or the know-it-all, which we never are. We wear the mask we want others to see. There is no breaking through these masks. They hide us from others and hide us from who we are. When we wear them in the workplace, we are not being authentic, and we shield ourselves from true connections with those with whom we work.

Sometimes the masks we wear originate from personal experiences that have hampered our ability to be intimate with one another. A history of lies or abuse, personally or professionally, can leave lasting scars on the human soul and make us reticent to offer or receive love. Orphanages are often notorious for deaths not related to starvation or disease, but to the emotional and sensory deprivation that is spawned from a lack of love (Varela-Silva 2016). Our response to such trauma as adults is often unconscious, and it takes tremendous self-awareness work to heal these wounds. In the meantime, we push love away. M. Scott Peck asserted that the question of love was the foundation of all the challenges his patients faced. His perspective was that the key ingredient of meaningful psychotherapy was love (Peck 1978).

When these struggles manifest themselves in the workplace, they can take the form of nonproductive behavior at best and toxic behavior at worst. Leaders unable to shed their masks become barriers to inclusion and progressive decision-making. They consciously or unconsciously block progress so as to maintain their sense of self-value. In extreme cases, and all too commonly, toxic behavior may emerge, creating an environment of workplace incivility and leaving little room for love.

So, Try This

• Think about the work-related documents that tell others what your organization is about. Do they explicitly mention love?

• Listen closely to the conversations you witness in the workplace. Think about how many of them you would characterize as exchange-based versus human-based.

• When was the last time you exhibited empathy to someone who worked for you? Was it in person? Emails don’t count! Did you feel a genuine love for that person, or was this a professional encounter? Were you checking a box, or was it real?

And Finally

We would be remiss if we didn’t close this chapter by making the point that love begins with self. We have to be able to look in the mirror in the morning and like what we see. Actually, love what we see, with all of our faults, imperfections, and scars. Leaders who are comfortable with self have the strongest foundation for leadership possible. This is why it is not possible to certify one’s self into leadership. All of the great programs in the world, degrees, certifications, licensures, cannot fix a broken self, a self with no love.

When leaders begin with a foundation of authentic love for self, it is much easier to share love with others. Leaders like this are the real deal. Think about Dawn and Arthur. Because they were their true selves, they were able to impact those they led and all of those around them. They led with love. You could too.