Of Bullies and Leaders
Valued Reader(s),
This one has been brewing for a long time, and I’m afraid it will get a little lengthy. Even by my standards. So, get yourself a cup of coffee (or the beverage of your choice), then make yourself comfortable…there. Ready?
The journey begins with a radio show I chanced upon about a week ago, In The Loop on National Public Radio. Amy Salloway was performing part of her work, Circumference, describing her experience of being bullied for being fat, as a child and as an adult. The story touched me, and let me to think about the connection between bullying and principled leadership. Tthere is a connection, I promise…)
One of the points that Bill George makes in True North is that the character and motives of great leaders are often formed by critical early life experiences. He provides many examples of how adversity has gone right for great leaders. What happens when that experience goes wrong? What happens when adversity doesn’t result in the positive attributes of character? Perhaps one of the things that can happen is the emergence of a bully.
Bullying involves hurting, scaring, or intimidating someone who is not readily able to defend him- or herself. It can entail physical harm, verbal or non-verbal threats or intimidation, or some combination of behaviors. I found a good description, along with some other interesting resources, at http://stopbullyingnow.hrsa.gov/index.asp.
Indeed, there is a proliferation of literature on bullying, part of a current, concerted, widespread campaign to stop childhood bullying. Among the apparent drivers for this campaign are the very public, very violent acts perpetrated by victims of bullying seeking revenge, either direct or indirect. Beyond Columbine High School, we resonate with an effort to stop bullying because we have all been exposed to it, either as perpetrators, as victims, or as bystanders. Truth to tell, most of us have probably acted in each those roles at one time or another. Anybody have a younger sibling?
Echoes of the Past
The topic hits close to home for me, and not just as a wildly imperfect older brother. I was picked on a lot in grade school – I was fat, slow of foot, and quick of mouth. I also had the kind of vocabulary that got kids picked on, and no instinct for fighting. Those social experiences hurt a lot, and they were certainly formative.
A couple of years ago, just after our mother died, my brother and I undertook the sad process of dismantling our childhood home. Mom saved stuff. Lots of stuff. In drawers, in boxes, on shelves. In the course of sorting through it all, I found a letter written to my parents by my first summer camp counselor.
I had been about 10 years old; my experience at the camp had not been pleasant. My cabin was essentially led by two bullies, who immediately identified me as an easy target for ridicule and observed that none of the other kids would stand up to them. I remember a few of the boys liking it, actively participating in the jeering and pranks, and a larger number looking frightened, neither participating nor objecting. I now recognize that dynamic as a microcosm of oppression.
I had not thought about the experience in many years, until I found the counselor’s letter. The first part was typed and mimeographed. (Remember mimeographs?) It described a wonderful camp experience shared by all the boys. Then the counselor added a handwritten note of about equal length, stating in essence that “Chad had trouble fitting into the cabin,” and advising my parents to help me “learn to act more like a kid,” so the other kids would like me more, or at least would pick on me less.
Reading these words filled me with rage. Some of that rage was undoubtedly an echo of the distant past. I think that more of it was contemporary, as I read the paragraphs blaming a 10-year old boy for inviting bullying by being different from the other kids. That was terrible advice, and it represented the counselors’ shameful failure to teach the entire cabin – the bullies, the victims, and the bystanders – some truly valuable lessons.
As I reflected on the letter, though, my rage faded. I remember that counselor as a jock and a freshman at a local bible college, probably about 19 years old. He was trying to make sense of a situation based on his experience and from his perspective. As a ten-year-old, he was probably among the cowed bystanders. His advice to me was to appease the bullies and to avoid their predatory gaze, to move me from victim to bystander. The truth is, he was probably giving me the best advice he had. That poor, dumb jerk.
Progress
I mentioned the emerging literature on bullying, and the concerted efforts to stop it among children. My own young children are both in educational settings that actively seek to diminish bullying. The results have been mixed, but I’ve seen excellent examples of progress. The adults become actively involved, in a few ways. They definitely intervene to stop bullying behaviors. More important, they create environments and enforce standards that do not tolerate bullying. Perhaps most important, teachers actively empower kids to stop bullying when they see it, and to resolve disputes effectively and non-violently.
Frankly, when I first heard of these efforts, I was skeptical about whether adults really can influence playground life very much. I subscribed to the Peanuts view of childhood, where the kids hear the words of adults as a vague buzzing sound. As I observe the interventions in action, however, I believe that they are effective.
The key seems to be empowering the bystanders to actively stop, and thereby prevent, bullying. My son’s school has programs that foster and reinforce the skill and the will in kids, teaching them how to be intolerant of bullying. 30-some years ago, a camp counselor advised me to fit in so I wouldn’t be the one getting picked on (to date, virtually all my efforts to fit in have failed miserably, but I don’t get picked on much anymore). Today, teachers empower my kids not to let bullies get away with it. That’s progress, and it is inspiring.
Implications for Grownups
Our kids are learning an early, practical lesson in ethical leadership. Kids in the best of these programs are being taught that it is their responsibility to stop bullying using non-violent means at their disposal. They are learning to use their personal power to influence others to do good, and that the solution to aggression begins with themselves.
Big Kids, Big Bullies
Amy Salloway, the performance artist, was right in observing that bullying doesn’t stop in grade school. It’s rampant in the workplace, as well. Sometimes it is just as overt as it was on the playground, but often it is more subtle, more insidious, and as such, more destructive to our organizations.
I was facilitating a client workshop a while back, when I observed some fairly subtle bullying. We had convened a panel of outside experts to share their perspectives with a room of participants ranging from interns to senior executives. As planned, members of the audience raised questions, and the panel addressed them. Then I heard the senior executive in the room snicker at some of the questions, first sotto voce and then quite overtly. Then he began to dominate the discussion, both by virtue of his own questions, and because none of his subordinated dared to utter a word until his cell phone rang and he left the room.
I approached him at the break, led him to a private spot, and shared my concern that his behavior was inhibiting others from contributing. “I don’t care if they contribute,” he retorted, with anger rising. “I care about squeezing as much information out of these panelists as possible, and their questions weren’t helping.” When I observed that the questions were coming from the very people who needed the information, he countered with his view that “the junior people don’t know what they need to know,” adding that, in any case, he “doesn’t have time for people who are afraid to speak up.” I tried to respond, but he waved a hand in my face, turned around, and left.
I stood alone in an alcove. My chest was tight, my jaw clenched, not from fear but from anger. I had no investment in this situation beyond my involvement that day, but I couldn’t seem to persuade my nervous system of that reality. I forced myself to breathe slowly and relaxed my fists, and then my shoulders, then my jaw. Then I returned to the session, only to learn that the executive had been called away from the rest of the meeting. The discussion went beautifully from that point on.
I later heard that fearless leader frequently berates people in public. In fact, his performance that day had been entirely subtle by local standards. He also bears grudges against those who challenge him. I wondered about his ascension to his current role, and questioned the future of his organization.
In the two weeks following the meeting, I received unsolicited resumes from three people in the room, inviting me to circulate them to other clients who might be seeking their talents. Two belonged to stellar performers, each with more than 15 years tenure. I called one of them and inquired. He wasn’t leaving because his boss was a bully and a jerk. He was leaving because the company continued to promote bullies and jerks, and he figured that it didn’t bode well for him or for the organization.
Bullying Costs
Bullying costs organizations directly and indirectly. Years ago I did a research project for a company. The answer seemed obvious, to everyone except a single senior director. In my interview with her, she literally said, “If you want your relationship with our company to continue, you will conclude that this project makes sense.” The trouble was, it simply didn’t make sense, to anyone but her. I told her we had to be objective, expressed our concerns about the project, and offered only to keep her apprised of our progress. We recommended against the project, which was ultimately killed. We continued to work for the company.
Our fees for that research project were nothing more or less than the partial cost of bullying in that organization. Bringing in an outsider was the only way for subordinates to kill a bad project while remaining employed. What other costs do organizations bear?
Just One More Story
Years ago I worked for a small company who brought in a new VP of sales. As sales performance continued to disappoint, Mr. Sales decided that the best defense was a good offense. It turned out that being offensive was among his greatest gifts. In management meetings and in his office, he leveled scathing criticisms of everyone around him, punctuating his diatribes with spurious whiteboard graphs. He continued the tirades via email, backstabbing and front-stabbing and side-stabbing – you get the picture.
When people brought their concerns to the CEO, he assured us that he was aware of the issue, and that he was working on it. Further, he argued, Mr. Sales needed the time to succeed or fail on his own merits. That was actually an admirable approach, so long as he was also engaged in correcting the behavior itself. I think he was.
Then the CEO got a call from a senior executive in a Fortune 100 company. “Tell that [expletive deleted] [name deleted] that the good news is that I have his notebook, and the bad news is, I read it.”
It seems that our guy was presenting a major proposal, and had jotted down the names of people around the table. He then attached mnemonics like “Baldie,” “Fats,” “Idiot,” and worse to many of the attendees. The prospective client made it clear that we were no longer being considered as a vendor. (I could not help but wonder what was jotted by his name.)
I learned a valuable lesson that day: people who exhibit intramural bad behavior aren’t just a risk to internal harmony. They are equally likely to damage relationships with clients, vendors, and shareholders, and others.
What’s Next?
Leadership is so much more than direction, so much more than influencing others. Leaders have the power to create and foster organizations where bullying isn’t tolerated, and where effective collaboration and support for colleagues and subordinates is rewarded..
The Leadership Working Group meets tomorrow to discuss Max DePree’s Leadership is an Art. It is an approachable introduction to much that is right about leadership. For our next work, I am recommending The No Asshole Rule: Building a Civilized Workplace and Surviving One that Isn’t, by Robert I. Sutton. It is a constructive approach to bullies in the workplace.
I’ll keep you posted. Thanks for sticking with me on this one!
Comments
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Hi! I know this journal entry is from a few month's back, but I had to say hi -- this is Amy Salloway, of the "In the Loop" bullying episode. I found your blog while doing a Google search for a blog a friend of mine wrote... I'm so glad my story resonated with you (though not glad that either of us have victimization in our pasts or current lives as adults)! That story about being Moo'ed at wasn't actually FROM "Circumference", but it's very similar to material IN "Circumference", and if you want to see my entire show (which has a major theme revolving around being bullied by my junior high gym teacher), it's going to play in Minneapolis April 4, 5, 11 and 12th, 9:30 pm, at Old Arizona Studio -- 28th and Nicollet Ave. South. You can look at my website for more info. I'd love to have you there! :-) Thanks again!
# Posted By Amy Salloway
| 3/8/08 11:06 PM
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