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Oh, California.

There's nothing like a trip to California to cause a refinement and readjustment of my beliefs and values.

Last weekend provided an opportunity to ask 28 other Vistage chairs to challenge gaps between my beliefs and my behaviors.

One of those gaps: spending too much time online, especially during the evenings. It's costing me incremental depth in my relationships here at home. So the computer has to be turned off at dinnertime.

But, wait. I'm online at night because I have real online work to do. And I have online work to do at night, because I am working out of the home all day.

Push has come to shove.
Something has to give. So I decided to trim my workday work load.

Right now. Before I change my mind.

So I have just quit a beloved teaching assignment.
This week, I asked Ohio State to remove me from the lineup starting in the autumn. That gives me one more academic quarter to try to get it right. (And, ethically, there are already students enrolled. I don't want to disappoint them.)

I told my current students about my decision. There was some argument that I should continue. But, mainly, we all agreed that I preach about (in the words of Pink Floyd) "exchanging cold comfort for change," so I should move on.

The Immediate Challenge
I cannot slow down — even on the job I've just quit.

Here's a note to the students:

To a Most Memorable Class Of Students:

Someday you will quit your job, like I have with Ohio State. (If you have missed a few classes, I've asked Ohio State to leave me out of the teaching lineup starting in the autumn. Maybe it's a final quitting. Maybe it's a few years off. I don't know.) 

If you have already quit a meaningful job, you know this: there's nothing like the old job.

By that, I mean: once you have quit a job, you are suddenly tempted to work less hard at it, preferring to coast toward the finish line. Your attention and passion are naturally drawn toward what's coming: the next job.

As a teacher, I need to serve as a role model on this issue. So I am committed to striving all the way through to the finish line. I will double my effort. I will double my accessibility. (Let me know if you want to meet with me during specially scheduled "office" hours.) I will work harder.

One Ball Dropped
I have loved, loved, loved teaching creativity at Ohio State. I have felt like the Liberal Arts Department of the Business School. 

I have thought that, in a world that teaches people how to be computers, I can be someone teaching them to be human. Pretty preposterous stuff. Ambitious. Somewhat successful, according to more than a few students.

Still, I can't juggle as many balls, because some of the balls are becoming heavier and taking on a more golden hue. So I had to put this ball down.

 

The Purpose of Management

I've spent the past several months having increasingly deeper conversations with entrepreneurs and business owners. It's been an enlightening, joyful honor for me.

Observing these businesspeople is humbling. Most of them have a highly defined sense of purpose.

Here's one way of describing what I am seeing.

Guess What? It's Lutheran.
I heard this first when I taught creativity to MBA candidates at the Capital University Graduate School of Management. (This was years ago, before I came to Ohio State.)

The dean of the business school, Lisa Dolin, informed me that Capital University was founded by Lutherans, based on Lutheran ideals. And, if memory serves, she described a fundamental Lutheran mission like this:

The Lutherans recognize that we are more effective in some roles than we are in others. Some people are best at making shoes. Some people are best at dancing in those shoes.

So it is the purpose of education to help each person find his or her most productive role. Because, if we are all at our most effective, doing the thing that we are most meant to do, doing the thing that we do the best, doing the most important work of our careers, then we will — as a human population — really be moving the world forward.

We will truly be completing the act of creation.

Is that really Lutheran?
So I'm told. But I think even the Lutherans would agree — with delight — that this is a universal ethic. It would be universally beneficial if universally applied. And where it is not applied, it ought to be.

I might have added that last sentence, about finishing the act of creation. (I always try to worm that idea in.) But, it's fair to say that this world — as we have it now — is surely not finished. One only needs to look at the front page of the newspaper to realize that.

So What Is Management?
Management is helping our employees — and customers and families — identify their most important roles. And then helping them to focus on that work. The work of their careers.

Everyone profits.

This is where Management intersects with The Meaning Of Life.

Heavy. 

Another Take On This Idea
My wise cousin Steve Weiler said to me — years ago, just when I needed to hear it — that he tries to focus his life on doing "only those things that only I can do."

I asked him, "Well, what are those things that only you can do?"

His answer — with a humble laugh — is like mine: "Not all that many things!"

There are relatively few things that only I can do. But one thing is certain: I know when I'm doing them. And I know when I'm doing something that someone else could do. And, frankly, in those moments, someone else could surely do it a lot better.

Easy To Focus? (No.)
So, with so few activities that only I can do, it should be easy to stay focused.

Sadly, no. I'm easily distracted. I often find myself doing work that would be better done by someone else. 

That's why I made this chart.

The Beginning In The End

The year's end affords rebirth.
Many people pooh-pooh New Year's Resolutions, but that's because so many resolutions are hopes and dreams — not true decisions.

(This morning, I wrote the subscribers to my irregular newsletter, Three Ideas To Spark Your Creativity. If you want that, sign up here. The following is one of the topics I mentioned to them.)

So Let's Make A Decision.
During the past 60 days, I've asked 100+ people who run businesses: "What's is the biggest decision you need to make before the end of the year? Write it down. Now, write down the next step toward making that decision. And note by when you will take that step."

Writing this is essential. Writing doesn't make the decision. But it's funny what happens when we write it down. On paper, a big decision looks real — and more digestible.

What is the most important decision facing you?
Write it down. (Feel free to send it to me.)

Do this now. It won't take more than 10 minutes. And if not now, when?  

Here's my biggest year end decision.
How will I spend my time? If that sounds vague, click the chart on the right.

I'm sorting and assessing my activities. I'm a juggler, so I think of my activities as balls I'm juggling.

As the year proceeds, some of the balls get heavier. Some feel smoother in my hand and look more graceful in the air. Some are turning a golden hue.

Which ones might I put down in the coming year?

(And what balls might I want to pick up for the first time?)

Pardon me, what about your balls?

Let us (re)start with "Why?"

A month on the road has forced some introspection. (The travel experiences were excellent. More to come. Soon.)

Now it's your turn.
Perhaps you have already seen this video from Simon Sinek? It is a great place to start. 

After viewing the video, ask yourself, "Why am I doing what I am doing?"

If you truly want to lead, you need to know the answer to this question. You need to know why.

During the past several months, I've had deep conversations with more than 100 entrepreneurs. I'm hearing why, but I'm not sure all of them have articulated — specifically, on paper — why they are doing what they are doing.

This is clear: it's not the money.
As Sinek warns, it's not the money; that's a result. (A happy result, to be sure.)

Why is a deeper, more meaningful belief. The Why is found here: "What do I believe that drives what I am doing?"

Give it a go. Right now.
Please take ten minutes to write it down.

Then look at it tomorrow. If it doesn't quite capture what your belief — your underlying belief that drives you — revise it.  

And look at it every day. 
And revise it when you can better articulate your belief — or when you find your belief evolving.

Agenda-Free Advice for the Perpelexed

Here's the draft of a sermon I plan to give tonight at Temple Israel in Columbus, Ohio.

Agenda-Free Advice

(A Temple Israel Sermon)

Where were we? What was I saying last time I was up here? 

This is Shabbat Shuvah. Shuvah is about returning, so I'm trying to return to where we were when I was last on the bimah. 

Well, it was last year around this time. It appears that the rabbis are full up writing their High Holy Day sermons. So, if I offer to give a sermon at what might very well be — amid the rush of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur — the least attended service in the history of Reform Judaism, I might be allowed to do it.

So I offered. And here I am. (I'm glad both of you could be here.)

So, where were we last time I was up here? Oh, I remember: I was boasting about how distracted I get during services. I tried to make the case for how daydreaming might be the most effective form of worship.

And I encouraged you to try to get lost in your worship. Stop stressing about keeping up. Fall behind everyone else. Go wherever the moment takes you.

That was either great advice, deepening the experience of the High Holy Days for you.

Or it was terrible advice, giving me a slight advantage over you in getting my prayers heard — while you were daydreaming.

In either event, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be giving religious advice.

And, that brings us to where I left off last year.

This sermon is about bad advice. And good advice. And what makes one different from the other.

***************

This sermon is about agenda-free advice.

During the past couple months I've been doing a lot of reading about the subject. By "a lot of reading" I mean "I've skimmed the better part of a book."

For me, that's a lot of scholarship.

That's the reason I'm not a rabbi. Because a real rabbi knows that reading half a book is not being a scholar.

Still, now I am an expert in agenda-free advice.

First, I will define it. Then I will tell you where you can find it. Then I will tell you how to give it.

Then I will sit down.

***************

What It Is
Agenda-free advice is advice given by someone — an "advisor" — who has no direct investment in the advice. The advisor won't be helped or hurt substantially by your decision to accept or reject the advice.

The advisor wants to help, so there is that agenda. But the advisor seeks Tikun — your healing, your advancement, your improvement. The agenda driving the advisor is your agenda, not the advisor's agenda.

What's the opposite of agenda-free advice? Let's call it: "agenda-rich advice."

What might be the advisor's agenda?
A mentor of mine says: "After a business meeting I want the other person to think three things: 1. That I'm smart. 2. That he or she likes me. And 3. That he or she feels vaguely uncomfortable because there is work to be done."

I love that description of agenda-rich advice. It's when the advisor wants to do more than help. The advisor wants to move you toward a mutual agenda.

Sometimes the agenda-rich advice is an attempt to make you more like the advisor.

That's not bad. It can be quite good.

But it isn't agenda-free advice.
Agenda-free advice doesn't want to make you into someone else. Agenda-free advice wants you to be more authentic. Like that midrash about Louie arriving in heaven and apologizing for not being more like Moses. The gatekeeper says, "But the goal was not for you to be more like Moses. The goal was for you to be more like Louie."

That's shuvah. Returning. Returning to authenticity. Returning to who you are.

Agenda-free advice is when the advisor has only your agenda in mind — and the advice is pure, purely in service to you. Then the advisor walks away, with no ownership in your next steps.

Where can you find agenda-free advice?
I have found it in only two places.

Dancing With The Big Kids

I'm suddenly surrounded by people who know more than I do.

I'm always with someone who knows more than I do. (Everyone knows something I don't.)

But, now, in this experience, I am surrounded by people who are much more experienced than I am.

A Freshman At the Senior Dance
That's how a participant in an improvisation training recently put it. "I so often feel," she said, "like I'm a freshman at the senior dance." 

That's how I feel.

And I'm going to feel it big, right through this Saturday night's performance at the Riffe Center.

One night only. Tickets will be sold at the door (or in advance here). It's a great play and we will fully stage it (although we will be carrying our scripts).

Meet the Seniors
I'm not the youngest person on stage (unless age = cumulative time, life-to-date, acting on stage).

Consider the formidable talents: 

• Geoffrey Nelson, founding Artistic Director, CATCO
• Jeanine Thompson, Associate Professor, OSU Department of Theatre
• and magnificent AVLT Company Members Elena Perantoni and Acacia Duncan. 

(And me.)

The play will be directed by well-loved actor Ian Short, also known for his direction of Available Light’s Our Town, The Odd Couple, and To Kill A Mockingbird.

So Why Is This Different?
In all the other plays throughout my alleged acting career, there has always been someone beside me on stage — someone — who has less experience acting than I do.

Frankly, I've quietly thought, "Anytime I'm the most experienced actor on stage, the show is in trouble."

That's not happening on Saturday. These rehearsals have been unbelievably eye opening. Everyone around me is more than an actor. Each one is a theatre teacher, too.

Example.
My character — the most complex character I've ever played — has a strange stage direction in the script. I don't know what to do.

So, late last night, I sent a note to Geoff Nelson (who plays "James") asking him what to do. I broke a rule. It's bad form to ask another actor for direction. (That's the director's job.) But I'm in a learning mode and wanted to hear what the other guy on stage might say.

So I asked:

Hey, Geoff, this probably breaks all the rules (not that I know any), but next time I see you would you please demonstrate (from page 45) what you think it might look like when "Schultz convulses in horrible, strained, silent laughter"?

Here is his answer. (Ethical malfeasance alert: I don't have Geoff's permission to post this. There isn't time. I should not post it. I apologize in advance, which is not a true apology. It isn't fair. Geoff didn't prepare this for public viewing.)

But consider how excellently he wrote this in the late night. If you aren't an actor or director you might not appreciate how he does not tell me how to do it. (That would be too much intervention.) He simply teaches — correctly — where I should be spending my energy to "convulse" in the "horrible, strained, silent laughter." 

Geoff's answer, unedited, beautiful as it is:

Sure — but I imagine the problem you are having with it is not how it looks but what his intention is in doing it. Presumably, this is something he does completely consciously as a way to express, either to himself or to her, his reaction to whatever she has said just before this. The fact that "horrible" and "strained" are combined with "laughter" suggest to me that he views what she said (and I don't remember what that was) as incredibly hurtful yet also absurd.  It might be helpful to consider what his "subtext" might be, if you are familiar with that term in the actor sense.  (An actor has a lot of choices about the meaning and intention of every line he says, beyond the literal content of the words. (So a line like "Hi" can have a subtext of "I'm really glad to see you" or "Oh, my God, what are you doing here?" or "Who are you, exactly?"). His subtext might be "She is driving me crazy" or it might be "You are driving me crazy." Since the character himself is "acting" this feeling — illustrating it, in a way — then it is really a gesture, the same sort of thing as hitting yourself on the head and then saying "I could have had a V8!" or pointing your finger at the side of your head about someone or something and humming the Twilight Zone theme.  He is commenting.  The size of the gesture — it's a very large comment — is meant to convey how deeply he is affected by what she is doing.  I don't think you need to worry about it being "real" -- it is his way of giving expression to the depth and pain of feelings that he cannot easily express in a natural way.  It's his symbol of how he is feeling, meant to convey how much more strongly he is feeling it than his outside demeanor might indicate.  It is also a pretty bold and a very brave sort of statement of who he is and what he feels that no other character in this play would have the [courage] to make — at least at this point in the play.  

Anyway, I'd be happy to work on it with you.

Isn't that marvelous? In Geoff's hands — and the others on the cast and crew are equally gifted teachers — this is a truly teachable moment.

I'm sorry for posting Geoff's comments without his permission. I will seek it today.

Come. 
Go ahead. Come, spur of the moment!

 

A Respectful Request

You're smart. You know smart people.

I need to meet a few smart people. So, I'm asking you to introduce me to one (or more). 

My Motivation
Years ago, I needed more perspective. I was becoming stale as a business owner. And I felt "lonely at the top."

So I gathered a dozen business owners. We met confidentially to share experiences and insights. At monthly meetings, we described our challenges and opportunities — and greatly benefited from each other's agenda-free recommendations.

The result of my participation was substantial: Young Isaac became more professionally managed, process driven and — when I was ready — sellable.

This experience also improved my life beyond business. Held accountable by my peers, I allocated my time more intentionally. I was able to be home more. Life got better.

What I Am Doing
In November, I will start convening a monthly think tank for people who run companies. This group will meet monthly to address everyone's most critical issues. I'll bring in expert speakers for learning. And, separately, I will meet each participant for a monthly one-to-one coaching session.  

After researching the best way to do this, I have affiliated with Vistage International, the world's leading chief executive organization with 15,000 members. My group will have immediate, online access to a powerful network of global insight in every industry. 

Who Do You Know?
Here is my request. Please suggest two or three people you know who:

• are confident, 
• have revenues of at least $1 million, and
• are facing the challenges and opportunities that come with growth and success.

If they are right for my group, you will have done them a great favor. I will apply my best efforts, talents and care to improving their lives — and the lives of their families and employees — substantially.

If The Shoe Fits
Of course, all of this might be right for you. If you think so, contact me for more information. 

Here's a short video on the Vistage Experience:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zZqeMwHV9P4&feature=related

 

 

 

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Too many messages. Too much blather.

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If you sign up, you'll get a few ideas from time to time. (And you can keep subscribing to Net Cotton Content, of course.)

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Business Fiction

What are the books that every business person should read? 

For value investing? The Intelligent Investor and Security Analysis. For management? Anything by Peter Drucker and the the latest issue of Harvard Business Review. For strategy? Michael Porter and Jim Collins. For sales and marketing? Customers For Life and Made To Stick.

And then there are the many hundreds of biographies, auto-biographies and memoirs of business heroes. And other historical figures. 

Oh, we could argue about those recommendations. We could easily add 20 or 100 titles. 

But this isn't about non-fiction. My students and clients already read — and my faculty colleagues already assign — enough non-fiction.

This is about business fiction.
What are the books of fiction that every business person should read? 

In my quest to teach liberal arts to business people, I'd like to teach a course on Truth In Jest: The Fictional Legends Every Business Person Should Know.

This course would ensure that the participants are more than literate. They could claim Business Literacy.

The list starts plainly enough.
These titles start to answer the question: "What does any well read business person have on the shelf — and in mind and soul?"   

Books: Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead and Upton Sinclair's The Jungle

Plays: Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice and Mamet's Glengarry Glen Ross

Movies: Tin Men and House of Games

What titles would you add? What's essential for Business Literacy?

Who cares?
I do. Here's why I care.

When I was 22 years old, my boss and I were scheduled to meet the Big Client at the 21 Club for dinner.

My boss was stuck in late afternoon Manhattan traffic. So there I was: alone with the client.

"What should we do?" I asked Big Client.

"Let's wait in the bar," he said.

Forty-five minutes later, after my boss arrived, we sat for dinner. My boss asked Big Client, "So how did Artie do?" I was a very new guy at the office and leaving me alone with the client was foolhardy.

"Artie? Oh, he did great," said Big Client. "Anyone can learn your business. But few young people can stand at the bar for a half hour and chat with the client."

Business fiction can make that possible.  

POSTSCRIPT (6/27/11):
After I posted the "Business Fiction," I received the following, thoughtful email from Joe Sperry. (Thanks, Joe.) He permitted me to copy this for you:

Coming from the liberal art side of things, I can think of a number of business fictions, two of which I would not force anyone to read. Melville’s Bartleby the Scrivener is the one that is perfect for English teachers (speaking as a former one) to gleefully show the limitations of business. The second is Joseph Heller’s Something Happened—the book he wrote after Catch-22. Something Happened is the story of a man living in terror at a corporation with awful bosses and after 900 pages or so (hyperbole) what happens is that his infant son dies. As you can imagine, sales were not great, especially for those expecting another Catch-22.

In one Shakespeare class I took, I do remember the professor discussing the leadership styles of various focal characters. Hamlet—awful, but Othello decent—there is a scene where he comes in and his men are dueling to the death ( I.ii.59) and he simply says: “Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them."  Not everyone could stop a fight thus. Julius Caesar was presented as the leader driven by ambition and reason—the Gordon Gecko of Roman times. I always thought there was an interesting course here. I’d be tempted to include Lady Macbeth in it.

If I had to choose a great business novel, it might be Anthony Trollope’s The Way We Live Now, which I reread several summers ago. The parallels with today’s business are frightening. Although it’s two very long books so I don’t know if a businessperson would read it. If there is a great business novel, I do not know it. Sinclair Lewis’ Babbitt maybe or Dodsworth—the movie remains a wonderful thirties classic—one of Walter Huston’s greatest roles.

There are others: William Dean Howells’ Rise of Silas Lapham maybe—although it’s a dismal book to read. I dimly recall Louis Auchincloss’s The Embezzler and that I liked it.

I don't know about you, but I find Joe's business literacy to be humbling. Way to go, Joe!

I think the syllabus might be full.

Here's To The Graduates

It's been one of the most emotional weeks of my life, as I described here.

An anchoring moment, the chance to catch my breath in service to others, came at Village Academy, a lovely gem of a independent school. They were nice enough to invite me to deliver this year's commencement address and being there was a chance for me to relax and recenter myself.

This might sound odd to you.
Many people would be made more anxious to have to write and deliver a speech. 

For me, especially during an emotional week, is was a welcome moment of flow. Surfers surf — and that looks scary to me, but they are focused and reinvigorated. Speaking is my surfing.

Here's what I said to the graduates.
A disclaimer, first: it borrows heavily from and expands on a commencement address I gave two years ago to Laurel School.  I did what I could to improve the presentation. I customized it for this wonderful school. But I couldn't imagine a better topic for the day. 

Perhaps it is the right topic for you, too, today?

Here it is...

In Praise of Speed Bumps
(or "A Summer Breath") 

Presented to Village Academy
At the Fifteenth Commencement Exercises
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Powell, Ohio 

Thank you, Board President Dymerski, Head of School Lasley (Miss Susie), Mr. Fitchko, Miss Hohe, members of the board of trustees, esteemed faculty, proud parents, loving siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles. 

And to the class of 2011, thank you.

You have been mutually supportive in a real community of genuine people, indulging each other with encouragement, using your power for good. You are a model for other classes to follow. And they will. 

I don't know how your tradition describes heaven.
Perhaps it is white robes, halos and carpeting made of clouds.  

My tradition is vague on the notion. I kind of think that it is a place of learning, where fabulous people encourage each other. Village Academy might be heaven. I hope you're happy.