Work is Love Made Visible

by Frances Hesselbein

  In most of New York, it’s easy to forget that you live and work on an island, founded as a seaport and river town. Looking out my window, you can’t forget. The Hudson is about a mile wide where I sit, and, straight as a 10-lane highway, it beckons you into the interior. No wonder Henry Hudson persuaded himself that this was the one (not the Delaware or the Potomac) that could lead to the Northwest Passage. No wonder everyone from the Iroquois and Lenape to the British and Americans fought to control it.

  When visitors to Inc. marvel at the view, I often find myself saying, “Had you been looking out the window at the right moment, you’d have seen Captain Sully land his plane in the Hudson.” For some reason, apparently, I need to point out that the view isn’t just pretty. It’s also a frame for the dramas that take place, or took place, within its range. In other words, if you know how to look, what you can see out my window are the defining moments in the history of this place, a history – and let’s get to the point in a book by Frances Hesselbein – that was made possible by great leadership.

  Several miles upriver, gray in the distance, stands the George Washington Bridge, connecting the town of Fort Lee in New Jersey with Fort Washington Park in New York. It makes sense that the builders would name the structure after the first president of the United States. But there’s a certain irony to that, too, because the bridge joins the two points Washington probably would least like to be remembered for.

  That’s where the leadership lesson comes in.

  A quick background: In the months after the signing of the Declaration of Independence, Washington and his troops fought the British for control of New York. For Washington, the campaign was an unmitigated disaster; in battle after battle, his amateur army was manhandled by the disciplined British and Hessians. By November, the Americans’ only toehold in New York was an earthen fort at the northern tip of Manhattan, Fort Washington. Directly across the Hudson in New Jersey lay another patriot stronghold, named after Washington’s no. 2, Charles Lee.

  As the British and Hessians loped after the retreating Americans, Washington doubted that the fort bearing his name could be defended. But after wavering indecisively, he yielded to assurances from his favorite lieutenant, Nathanael Greene, that the fort could hold out. Greene was fatally wrong. When the British attack came in mid-November, the defense collapsed in a few hours, with the loss of three thousand men, many precious cannon, and thousands of tents and blankets that Washington’s army would sorely miss in the winter ahead. A few days later, after the British crossed the Hudson, Washington and his demoralized troops abandoned Fort Lee in a panic, leaving behind still more irreplaceable supplies.

  The loss of the two forts was the crowning catastrophe of Washington’s defeat in New York. Legend has it that he turned and, in a rare display of emotion, wept “with the tenderness of a child” as the victors raised their flags over Fort Washington. Some of his most loyal allies began to question whether he was up to the job.

  “An indecisive mind is one of the greatest misfortunes that can befall an army,” fumed Joseph Reed, Washington’s aide-de-camp and closest confidant, in a backbiting letter to Lee. Lee, in turn, scolded Washington directly. “O, General, why would you be over-persuaded by men of inferior judgment to your own?” he wrote, in a rebuke that was also a thinly veiled invitation to blame Greene.

  As Washington and the remnants of his army fled through New Jersey, rarely more than a few hours ahead of the British, the war seemed all but over. The army that he commanded that summer had been reduced 70% by defeat and desertion. It was undersupplied and woefully underprepared for winter. Many civilians, figuring the cause was lost, eagerly accepted British pardons in return for denouncing the rebellion.

  Quite apart from the desperate military situation, Washington had reason to feel personally abandoned. Greene, his favorite, had grossly miscalculated at Fort Washington. And when a confused dispatch rider mistakenly delivered to Washington a letter furthering that carping exchange between Lee and Reed, Washington realized that his closest allies had begun to lose faith in him.

  “These are the times that try men’s souls,” wrote pamphleteer Thomas Paine, famously, referring to this dark moment in his new country’s fortunes. Yet, it was precisely at this point that Washington proved he had the soul of a leader.

  For starters, Washington never let the troops see any glimmer of despair. Indeed, he made himself more visible than he had been before. Rather than be carried in his customary carriage, for example, Washington rode with his rear guard during the retreat, closest to the pursuing British. This made an impression on, among others, an 18-year-old Virginia lieutenant named James Monroe. “I … saw him at the head of a small band, or rather in its rear, for he was always near the enemy,” he would later recall, “and his countenance and manner made an impression on me which I can never efface.” (The leadership lesson apparently stuck with young Monroe, for he went on to become America’s fifth president.)

  In addition, Washington refused to yield to what must have been a powerful temptation to lash out at his subordinates. In his own analysis of the disaster at Fort Washington, Washington never named Greene, spurning Lee’s invitation to throw Greene under the bus, and after reading the letter from Lee to Reed, Washington merely sent it on with an apology for having mistakenly opened it. He made no comment on its content.

  Despite all these trials, moreover, Washington never altered his instinctive, empowering leadership style. In contrast to his opposing European generals, who were strictly conscious of rank (military and social), Washington led by consensus. He continually sought his lieutenants’ opinion of his tactics and listened to their ideas, even after the disaster at Fort Washington. It was a style perfectly aligned to the principles of a nation that had just finished declaring that all men are created equal.

  There are many reasons that the American cause prevailed, but one of the indispensable ones, without a doubt, was Washington’s skill at motivating and inspiring his followers. While he lived in a very different century, the source of his mastery would make sense to Peter Drucker, Marshall Goldsmith, Frances Hesselbein, or any of today’s great thinkers. It’s not at all hard to map Washington’s inclusive, trusting style to the leadership principles that the iconic CEO Alan Mulally made famous in this century, when he brought Boeing and Ford back from their own near-death experiences. Three principles in particular come to mind:

  Put People First. Washington saw Greene’s and Reed’s devotion to the patriot cause and stood by them, despite the former’s error in judgment and the latter’s flicker of disloyalty. Trusting in his subordinates’ better angels paid off handsomely: A month later, it was Reed who suggested that Washington cross the icy Delaware and attack the Hessians at Trenton – a victory that became the war’s turning point. Later, Reed proved his loyalty to the cause by refusing a 10,000-pound British bribe, saying famously, “I am not worth purchasing; but such as I am, the king of Great Britain is not rich enough to do it.” Greene, for his part, repaid Washington’s faith by evolving into what historian David McCullough called “the Americans’ most brilliant field commander.”1 His flawless campaign in the southern colonies led directly to Washington’s crushing victory at Yorktown, Virginia, the conclusive major battle of the war.

  Include Everyone. Shortly after Washington’s surprise victory at Trenton, a large, revenge-minded British force marched on the city and, having cornered Washington south of the town, encamped for the night. In his war council that night, Washington abandoned his inclination to take on the British the next day. Instead, he followed the suggestion of two junior officers to slip around their opponents’ flank during the night. The British generals went to bed confident that they would destroy Washington the next morning. They awoke to an empty American camp in front of them and the sound of cannon to their rear, where the Americans were busy routing their rear guard and capturing the town of Princeton.

  Trust the Process and Be Emotionally Resilient. In his own demeanor, W
ashington modeled the calm perseverance that he recognized was needed after his army’s disastrous defeat in New York. Washington had every reason to despair, but he never let his troops see it. In reply to one of his generals who was complaining about his mediocre troops, Washington wrote that he sympathized but that “we must bear up against [our troubles] and make the best of mankind as they are, since we cannot have them as we wish.”2 As for process: Despite the almost unbearable pressures he faced, he did not abandon his inclusive style of leadership and shut himself off from advisers.

  From a twenty-first-century perspective, Washington seems a distant figure, a stern-faced, bewigged curiosity who seems more granite than human. And yet from my window, it’s possible to picture him as an all-too-fallible 45-year-old being rowed hurriedly across the Hudson toward Fort Lee, agonizing over his spectacular failure in his first real test, and realizing that when he got ashore, several thousand scared, underequipped men were still counting on him to lead them. That man I see out my window never had the benefit of Peter Drucker’s insights. But he instinctively grasped what it took to quiet his own demons and drive men to do more than they, and the world, ever thought possible.

  Like I said: It’s a pretty awesome view out my window, if you know where to look.

  Reflection Questions

  What historical leaders do you most admire, and why?

  Do you think that leadership challenges of the present are different than those of the past? If so, how?

  Describe how George Washington was able to turn his defeats into victories. What particular leadership qualities did he display that enabled him to maintain the support of those he led? Can you think of any parallels in your own organization?

  Notes

  1. David McCullough, 1776 (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2005).

  2. David Hackett Fischer, Washington’s Crossing (New York: Oxford University Press, 2004).

  11

  Loving Work Despite the Odds

  Secrets from Sir Richard Branson and Nelson Mandela

  Mark C. Thompson

  Mark C. Thompson is a New York Times bestselling author, coach, investor, and advisor to leaders who are transforming their companies – from Virgin’s Richard Branson and Apple’s Steve Jobs, to Pinterest founder Evan Sharp, LYFT founder Logan Green, author Tony Robbins, and World Bank President Jim Kim. At Schwab, Mark reported to founder Charles “Chuck” Schwab as senior vice president/executive producer of Schwab.com, and later global retail and enterprise chief customer experience officer for The Charles Schwab Corporation.

  Mark is founding patron and leadership advisor to Richard Branson’s Entrepreneurship Centers – more than 400 companies operate under the Virgin brand. He was founding advisor to the Stanford University Realtime Venture Design Lab. He is adjunct faculty at Harvard McLean’s Institute of Coaching and the Institute for Contemporary Leadership with Google’s David Peterson. Mark has served as faculty at the World Economic Forum, World Business Forum, and Drucker/Hesselbein Leader to Leader Institute. He is a chancellor for Junior Achievement’s Success University and member of the board of trustees for the International Coaching Federation Foundation.

  ■ ■ ■

  As Virgin America announced plans for its long-awaited IPO, Sir Richard Branson confided to me over a late-night beer1 just how maddening it can be to launch any high-flying business, even for a serial entrepreneur with more than 350 other companies under the Virgin brand. Back when the Silicon Valley-based airline was getting started, Virgin America’s competitors viciously contested the newcomer’s arrival for what seemed like an eternity. Price wars, lawsuits, and regulatory battles all soaked up precious resources.

  “The knee-jerk reaction you feel as a leader when you’re under attack is to assume a siege mentality,” Branson said. But your fight-or-flight instincts are “a self-indulgent waste of time and money.” Instead, he and his partners focused on reinventing the customer experience for domestic air travel, eventually winning share in the insanely competitive airline industry. The strategy worked. While his foes fought each other, Virgin America was recently acquired at a nice profit for the legendary entrepreneur.

  Branson said that rather than ever feel threatened or even sorry for himself, he’s always comforted by five principles that guided his mentor, Nelson Mandela, whose circumstances were obviously far more desperate than any of us will ever experience.

  1. Let Your Mission, Not Your Nightmare, Define You

  “Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies,” Mandela once said. Vengefulness and victimhood would not erase the crimes done to him in the past, nor would they help him build a better future. Mandela could have emerged from decades of jail “still imprisoned by bitterness,” Branson said. “Instead he devoted every ounce of creativity to building a lasting legacy.”

  When Branson’s house burst into flames during a hurricane a few years ago, actress Kate Winslet and her family, along with Branson’s 90-year-old mom, Eve, fled to safety. Branson himself had been sleeping down near the beach in a guest cottage when he heard lightning strike his hilltop home. He sprinted out the door buck naked and straight into a cactus. “No one felt sorry for me,” he joked, “as everyone had more important issues to contend with.” Nobody was hurt, but Branson felt a deep moment of loss. He’d raised his family in that house, and the setback gave him insight into how to weigh what’s important.

  The biggest heartbreak about the blaze for Branson was losing his prized notebooks. He’s scribbled ideas and to-do’s in a set of bound blank books in almost every meeting I’ve ever attended with him. He’s been doing that for decades, and it has two important benefits that make him one of the happiest and most humble people you’ll ever meet. Taking notes keeps him present in the conversation and able to gather knowledge rather than drifting away or indulging in holding court with celebrity-crazed admirers. “You need to have some way to stay focused on what matters, what you’re learning, and what you might find important later, so track your insights in every step of your adventure,” Branson says.

  2. Burn Your House Down

  Sir Richard’s home tragedy yielded another unique insight about how to harvest failure and innovate at the same time. Here’s the key idea: If you lost everything tomorrow, would you

  Rebuild your home exactly the same way?

  Fill it with all the same stuff?

  Start your career over, and in the exact same way?

  Recruit all the same people back into your life and work?

  The good news is that none of this has happened today, but if you take these questions seriously for a moment, you will unleash a flood of fresh ideas about what you might consider doing, along with both regrets and gratitude about the way things are. It’s a powerful way to reconnect with what and who matters to you before a crisis requires that sort of innovation.

  “I’d not wish it on anyone,” Branson told me, “but sometimes the best way to get clear about what has meaning to you is to imagine starting over from scratch!”

  Perhaps it’s time to throw a few things out that don’t really work for you, or take more time to appreciate who and what you’d miss if you lost them. There can be many benefits: Branson’s new home is bolder and more beautiful in ways that better reflect who he is today and what he wants to accomplish in the next chapter of his life.

  3. Nobody Does It Alone

  When Charles (Chuck) Schwab flunked English and was nearly thrown out of college, he said he was “humiliated because I had always thought I was a reasonably smart guy and I didn’t realize how pathetic I was at the skill of reading and writing.”2 Schwab recruited friends and family to help him deliver the goods in school. His reading and writing troubles, he would later discover, were the result of dyslexia. “It might seem odd,” said Schwab, “but what felt like a deficit was a real benefit.” His reading disability taught him how to recruit a talented, trustworthy team and forced him to become a skilled delegator.

 
; When it comes to building an organization, nobody does it alone. Like the blind person who develops acute senses of hearing and smell, an intelligent person with learning disabilities who is ambitious like entrepreneur Charles Schwab won’t hesitate to seek help to get things done rather than assume that he can or must do it all on his own. If you’re a decent reader, you might not get help. Chuck Schwab could not read well enough to stay in college, so rather than be thrown out of Stanford, he recruited study groups. Marshall Goldsmith often talks about how even the most brilliant people eventually must learn that they are expert at very few things, so the faster you learn that, the better off you will be as a leader.

  Ultimately, those recruitment and delegation skills enabled Chuck to scale a business much sooner than most of his classmates at Stanford Business School. “Brilliant entrepreneurs think they can do everything, and they don’t spend enough time finding the right people to grow the business,” he shrugged.

  None of us is an expert at everything. “When you don’t know something, just say so; it will shock the hell out of everyone and help you build a team to help you,” Schwab smiled.

  It’s perhaps the most provocative phrase anyone can say in public: I don’t know. In fact, the Dalai Lama, the global spiritual leader of Tibetan Buddhism, who has spent his lifetime trying to build understanding among faiths around the world, has been caught unabashedly using the phrase every time I’ve interviewed him. The guru says, with a grin and without apology, “I don’t know!” Nervous laughter usually creeps over the audience; then they sit in stunned silence as he smiles on stage like a bald leprechaun in orange robes and sneakers. What a shockingly simple revelation in a world where so-called experts speculate on national television far beyond their training or expertise – shouting at each other about things they do not know. Although it may not initially sound reassuring, I don’t know is a sort of a code or catch phrase you can use to identify honest people and enduringly high achievers all over the world. It’s kind of the secret handshake of integrity. When asked a question for which you do not have an answer, spend a moment looking earnest, then as folks lean forward breathlessly to await your wisdom, say, “I don’t know, let’s ask someone who does.” It works wonders and creates a space in which learning is possible.