by Carson, Mike
This works in all areas of life. Take the example of a young American professional working some years ago in London, out with a group of colleagues for dinner in a small restaurant. A few minutes after they arrived, the table next to theirs was taken by a small party including Bill Clinton, who was in town while visiting his daughter Chelsea at Oxford. During the evening, the two tables got talking, and Bill Clinton – recognising a fellow American in London – spent some time speaking to his countryman, also called Bill. The young Bill was an out-and-out Republican voter, and had precious little time for Clinton. But his opinion changed after the encounter: ‘That evening I was listened to for half an hour like I’ve never been listened to before by anyone – let alone a former president of the United States. He gave me all his attention, and I was the only person in his universe for those 30 minutes.’
Brendan Rodgers sees ‘four magic words that people have on their foreheads: “Make me feel important.”’ This was very much the source of Clinton’s strength as a leader. He could have leveraged his status as a former president, but he did not. Instead he had an enormous and lasting impact on Bill through his deep listening. Leaders who listen like this command not just loyalty but affection from their people, which in turn means that employees or players are willing to work harder for them, leading to more success for the organisation or on the pitch.
Understanding in the cauldron
What Ancelotti or Ian Green display is empathy. A much misunderstood idea, empathy is cast aside by too many leaders as ‘the soft side’ when, in fact, it is incredibly hard for most of us to practise. Empathy has two components. The first idea is that we put ourselves in the shoes of another person, to better understand their mindset and thus their worldview. Once we understand this, we can work much more productively with them. The second idea is that we show our awareness of their situation by some clear acknowledgement. Again there is a productivity bonus: he is happier to work with me because he feels I understand him.
A moving story emerged in the UK press around 2007. A father was taking his young son to Cambridge for cancer treatment at the world-renowned Addenbrooke’s Hospital. He decided to turn the visit into something memorable by staying in a top-quality hotel for a few days and seeing the beautiful city at leisure. The evening before the operation, the head-waiter at the hotel noticed the boy was anxious, and asked his father about it. He explained that his son had had to shave his head for the operation, and was feeling self-conscious. The head-waiter expressed sympathy. The next morning, when father and son came down for breakfast, the restaurant staff had all shaved their heads. This story of empathy in practice shows its power even in the most difficult of circumstances. It also reminds us how costly it can be to get it right.
Like the head-waiter, Ancelotti believes in a costly version of empathy. And it is all tied up with the fundamental need for leaders to show their human side. ‘I think that you have to show the player your character, because in a group it is normal to have a better relationship with one and a different relationship with another. By showing your character, you build trust – and in this way, I was able to keep friendships even when making tough and unpopular decisions.’ Ancelotti has never been afraid to share his own fears and concerns, and his players sense in him an openness and a centredness that they find easy to relate to. Ancelotti is comfortable crossing boundaries that others do not: ‘Provided a player respects my job and my decisions, he can still be a friend. This is important, because when the jobs have changed, the friendship can still remain.’ However, this is a risky and hugely difficult line to tread and most leaders struggle to get it right. Get it wrong and a leader can lose respect, results can drop, professional relationships and reputations can be damaged beyond repair.
Solution Part Two: Build Steel
Empathy does not equate to softness. There is a steel common to all the leading football managers that marks them out from their peers. Ancelotti gives an example: ‘I was a manager of someone who had played with me. How could I break the relationship that we had when we were players? We stayed friends, but they have respect because my role was different. I was no longer a player – I was a manager. They have to respect my decisions. Sometimes that is not easy. I remember dropping players who came to me after my decisions to ask me, “Why did you take me out? We are friends!” I would answer them: “Yes, we are friends – and we can continue to be friends – but you have to stay on the bench today.”’ In stepping up to lead your peers, the art of one-on-one – specifically how you deliver the message – is critical.
Perhaps the absolute master of steel is Sir Alex Ferguson. His resolve stems from a profound belief in his ability to make decisions, and originates back in the dockyard unions of Glasgow. ‘In the trade union I was a shop steward. I had a strong sense of responsibility about looking after or protecting people who were vulnerable, and I had to make decisions and stand by them. In an era when trade unions were very, very powerful, very influenced by communists, there were still two or three times that we took strike action – for the right reasons. I had a great mentor as a shop steward – a guy called Cal McKay, who was this fantastic, down-to-earth man and very intelligent. He could talk the length and breadth of any subject you could name, but he would never force his beliefs on you. It was obvious that he had strong communist beliefs, whereas I was socialist and that was it, but it was his strength of character that had a serious influence on me. I learned how to make decisions and had the strength of character to take me into management.’ Steel, then, can come from professional knowledge, decision-making ability and self-belief. It is a hugely important quality in a leader.
Steel can build loyalty too
Football managers value loyalty – perhaps above all else. When the chips are down – either personally or on a wider scale – they want their players to come through for them. We have seen how understanding builds loyalty when allied to acceptance and openness. But can steel do the same thing?
Mick McCarthy was finishing his playing career at Millwall in 1992: ‘It was Sunday night and Millwall had lost 6-1 – I think it was at Portsmouth. I was in the pub with a good mate of mine, John Colquhoun. We were talking about our game the following week, at home to Port Vale – which team would you pick, and so on. We weren’t involved in team selection but after all, everyone knows better than the manager. And it was particularly interesting because there was talk of Bruce [Rioch] getting the sack. Our conversation went something like this:
Me:
My team is, so and so, me, so and so, back four ... and you at right wing. What’s your team?
John:
You’d be in at centre half ... and Paul Stevenson at right wing.
Me:
What? You’re not playing in your own team?
John:
I know I should play, but I’ve been struggling a bit with my back ...
Me:
That’s interesting – not playing in your own team ...
On the Tuesday I woke up – St Patrick’s Day, 17 March – I was looking forward to it. Then I get a call to go and see Mr Burr, the chairman who told me that Bruce had been sacked. I was called to another meeting next day. On the way, I met my mate Ian Evans, who would become my assistant for a long time. I said to him: “I think they are going to offer me the manager’s job.” Straight away he asked: “Do they owe you any money? They might want to pay you up – you haven’t played for a while ...” So I’m going into the meeting with two different thoughts in my head: new job or heading out. Next day, Wednesday, I get the job. I’ve broken into football management. Thursday we come in to train. Friday we’re training again and I have to select the team. I pick Paul Stevenson on the right. John Colquhoun came to see me to ask why he’d been left out. I said, “You didn’t pick yourself in your team and you want to play in my team? Not a chance!” So I’m a player in the dressing room on Tuesday, and I’m the manager on Friday, making team selections and leaving out personal friends. Not easy.’ Mc
Carthy makes light of it, but, beneath the easy-going nature, there is steel in abundance. And the loyalty? ‘John and I have been friends for years – and still are. Very much so.’
So what did Colquhoun see in McCarthy that commanded his ongoing loyalty despite being dropped? Two things. The first is reliability. We often think of reliability as being on time, or playing a solid, constant game – we talk admiringly of reliable goalkeepers, for example. However, being a good leader is more about whether or not they keep their promises – or, put even better, whether they make promises they cannot keep. Tempted though he must have been to promise Colquhoun a place back in the starting line-up as soon as he was fit again, McCarthy did not take the easy route. Beyond reliability, he acted with integrity. For a football manager with integrity, what he thinks, believes, says and does all align. McCarthy knew Colquhoun wasn’t fully fit – and Colquhoun knew that McCarthy knew. In not selecting him, he behaved with integrity, and he and Colquhoun remain friends to this day. Integrity and steel can build loyalty.
Steel works with real people
A common issue – especially for less experienced leaders – is a nagging belief that steel can hurt people. But this does not have to be the case. The critical act is to separate the problem from the person. In football, a common application of this principle is around leaving players off the team sheet. In other fields, an example might be delaying someone’s advancement or promotion, or passing over a candidate for a specific task. No one enjoys dropping players, but the needs of the organisation or the club and the team are almost always greater than the needs of the individual. If you keep your eyes on the bigger picture, then the tactical decisions become much easier to make.
Great leaders make tough decisions, and still build powerful relationships. The first big challenge is the mindset of the manager. It’s important to recognise that tough decisions don’t have to damage relationships – on the contrary, they can build them. The most powerful relationships have mutual respect in their foundations. A losing mentality is: ‘He’ll never forgive me for dropping him.’ A winning mentality might be: ‘If I select him, we’re not going to win. The right team for this match looks like ...’
Walter Smith sees steel as an essential for dealing with players. ‘In football we don’t deal with products, we deal with people. And these people are not daft. They watch what you do – that’s life as a manager. At Rangers in my first year they would have been looking at me asking: “Is he going to weaken under the pressure of having to handle this situation or is he not? Is he going to be able to lead us out of this?” I realised I had to try and show all the time that I was going to lead us out of a tough place. There can be darker moments on your own when you are making an assessment of the situation, where you think, no, this isn’t going to work – but in front of everyone I think you have to show that you can be up front and handle it.’
Managers also have to have clear reasons underpinning their decisions – even if, like Ancelotti, they tend not to share them: ‘Usually I don’t want to explain to the players the motivation, because here we have 28 players and before the game I have to explain which 11 play and which 17 have to stay out. I don’t have the time; I don’t want to explain. But if one player came to me and if he wanted an explanation I would have to give it. Sometimes it’s easy; sometimes it’s not so easy because some decisions that you take are based on little details. So it becomes difficult to explain this. And it is sometimes difficult to tell the truth, because you can’t say to a player, “You don’t play because your teammate is better than you.” It’s difficult to say this because the risk is he will lose motivation to play so you have to find a different way to explain, while still behaving with integrity and, of course, not lying.’
Again, how you deliver the decision is critical. A famous negotiation tactic taught at Harvard Business School in Boston is the idea of Yes-No-Yes. It runs something like this: ‘I need to say No to you. Why? Because I am saying a bigger Yes to something else. Once I have that clear, then the No becomes much simpler to say. I can now move past it, and offer you an alternative Yes.’ This plays out for football leaders on a weekly basis. It might go: ‘I am leaving you out of the starting line-up for tomorrow. That is because you have not been at your best this week in training. The match is tough, so I have to field the best team for the task. On current form, this other player has earned his start. Next week, I am offering you one-on-one time each day with our defensive coach, so you can work toward getting your place back.’
In the final weeks of the 2011–12 season, Roberto Mancini hit on an unchanged line-up that carried Manchester City to the title. He was profoundly aware of leaving great players out of the team, but needed the momentum that was emerging from his successful starting eleven. In effect, his proposition to the rest of the squad might have sounded something like: ‘I know this is not easy or rewarding for you right now. But if we do this, we can all become champions. You will have played your part every bit as much as the others. And then you will have a champion’s medal, with all that that entails.’
The work of a football manager – as with most leaders – is to balance the needs of the task, the team and the individual. There are times when the greater needs of the team or the greater demands of the task (for example, beating the team in front of you) simply have to take priority. Working with this principle, transparently, allows many football managers to make tough decisions well.
Steel in the cauldron
Professional football at the highest level is, at best, a defining experience for managers. At worst it can be brutal. Steel, if you don’t already have it, becomes a major priority.
After Brendan Rodgers’ disappointment at Reading, his move to Swansea already had a real sense of last-chance saloon: ‘I came in and now I had to show my character. My career as a manager was almost over before it had begun. I didn’t know how much of a chance I was going to get, but now I knew the rules. I had learned from my experience at Reading, and now I knew I was in the business of winning. My philosophy had been tested at Reading – the first time in all my years that it hadn’t worked out. I had gone away for a six-month reflective period, so that when I arrived at Swansea, I again had great belief in my philosophy – maybe even more so than before. I was also stronger and more realistic. I had to be more clinical in my decision-making and get to the end point much quicker than I had done before.’
Rodgers realised that he needed steel mixed in with his natural style: ‘Because of my caring background, I was always about giving people the opportunity and the chance. I have not lost that, but I have tempered it. I was simply giving people too many chances for too long. So I went in with my personal philosophy unchanged, but then I did three things differently. First, I became much more open in my communication. I started speaking to players like men and not boys, and I expected them to speak to me like a man. I became straightforward with them – not waiting six months to tell them something that I know now. Secondly, I committed to provide more quality in my work. I’d study, I’d prepare, go into detail in my planning and preparation to ensure that the players were as prepared as possible. And thirdly I would be much more ambitious: for the club’s success, for the players’ success and for my own success – in that order. So now we have both style and steel. That is the phrase the team uses – it is true for them, and it is true for me.’ Rodgers’ shift to steel expressed itself in his one-to-one dealings with players. He was still investing in them – indeed he took even more time to think through his messages and his interactions, linking them to his vision and his personal preparation. But the messages were clearer, stronger and with no room for ambiguity.
Changing times: steel expressed through values
It is not uncommon for leaders to regard values as stakes in the ground – anchor points against the seemingly endless change of the environment around them. And that’s all very well. But living out these values in the face of criticism requires a steely commitment from a foo
tball manager to his deeply held beliefs. Since joining Arsenal in 1996, Arsène Wenger has seen huge shifts in the very foundations of football. He reflects on them from a player’s perspective, as a good leader would who understands his people. But there is an underlying steel also to his words: ‘Let us say honestly they have gone from a very normal world to a very privileged world, today all the players are in a very privileged situation. So how players are perceived has changed. Some people believe now that because they make a lot of money, they just have to produce. But it doesn’t work like that. No matter how much money you make in life, you are a guy who wakes up in the morning with a pain in his neck or his knee, who feels good or not so good, and you are first a person, no matter how much money you make. At this club – as at a number of others – we manage to keep traditional values at the foundation of all we do. These include respect for people, solidarity when people are in trouble, supporting players’ families, keeping our word. Basically old-fashioned qualities are still respected here and maybe that is why people have fond memories of our club.’ This understanding and these qualities are at the heart of successful one-to-one leadership.
The Graphic Equaliser
There are four challenges to great one-on-one leadership: capturing the loyalty of your people, understanding their humanity, the extent to which the environment you’re in is one of high pressure and high visibility and the changing nature of the world around. In response to these challenges, football’s leaders must deliver a mix of empathy and steel.
1. Empathy:
The master of empathy builds loyalty through understanding, listens to his people at a profound level, shows a human side that speaks louder than the external noise and transcends the changing times through personal charisma.
