“Warriors” are what you get when you treat action-minded “worriers” with respect and don’t just try to work around them.

Visionaries are what you get when you treat dreamers with respect and don’t just try point out the potential pitfalls in their ideas.

It is nearly impossible to be both a warrior and a visionary at the same time.

Navigating any worthy initiative needs both types of courage, and they both frustrate the other.

Yesterday, I posted this observation (and the header image here) on Facebook:  “Our clients come in all shapes and sizes, but the one thing they have in common is courage. Remarkable passion fuels these small business, higher ed and nonprofit organization leaders as they fling themselves into the gap between where they are and where they want to be: it’s an honor to support them as they blaze new paths, create better practices, make difficult decisions, have the tough conversations, and generally find ways to defy fear, embrace change, and inspire their teams to do better tomorrow than yesterday.”

As a response to that post, a long-time friend, client and one of my favorite provocateurs reached out to me by email to continue the conversation. For the sake of this discussion, we’ll call him “TJ”.  He was the one who crafted the “moral of the story” (above) and I have asked for his permission to post his thoughts here (orange italics) for the sake of furthering an important discussion:

“Courage is an appropriate word for those leading organizations or teams or families or just themselves.  Not everyone is courageous, but not everyone who is brave is the same.  I would suggest there are two types of courage.  The bold innovators, the true game changers have what I call the Bobby Kennedy style of courage, “I dream of things that never were, and ask why not?”  This group is blessed with the ability to see beyond the apparent hurdles to the magnificent horizon.

I would argue many more of us muster a different brand of courage, the courage born from the fear of messing up, the fear of embarrassment, the fear of failure.  Despite all the obstacles they can see and imagine, this group gets out of bed each day and takes the responsibility to keep the ship in the channel, heading to the destination.

My experiences tell me that both types of courage are needed for an entity to succeed, but that very few people have both types.  In fact, I’m not sure it is possible for one person to be both visionary while at the same time sweating the details.  That seems intuitive to me.  But what happens when someone is perceived as fearful because his/her courage is different?

In the best organizations, this difference is recognized, embraced and respected.  In many more organizations, this difference leads to resentment.  I would argue that dreamers need to be challenged to better appreciate those in their organizations that give them the time, space and freedom to dream.  Worriers (for lack of a better term at this point) should be challenged to better recognize the value of those who create the vision and destinations that give organizations meaning, purpose and a future.”

My response:

I would call the latter category — the brave ship steerers you refer to — Warriors instead of Worriers. They muster a different brand of courage, waking up every day, conquering their fears to head back to the project/company/work battlefield despite all the minefields that they know exist (and a whole lot more that are just imagined.)

What too few people understand, and you rightly point out, is that organizations desperately need both the visionary’s courage and the warrior’s courage to successfully find the open blue waters to navigate.

It’s a delicate balance – one represented by a different photo.

Too much or too little of either side’s courage, and the whole operation collapses.

As leadership teams, we must understand that each side doesn’t just benefit from, but RELIES ON the other side to bring their best strengths to the table.

Believing that either brand of courage alone could lead the ship safely is a false confidence that will surely run the ship aground on one path or another: into waters too rocky or shallow to survive or so deep and stormy that the ship will be submerged.

Just acknowledging that there ARE two types of courage (and probably more!) is a huge step towards embracing the balance, and the momentum that can come when that balance is in harmony.

If you are a visionary leader, resist the urge to view the warriors on your team as “worriers.”

If you are a warrior leader, resist the urge to dismiss the “dreamer” side of your visionary colleagues.

We can all navigate more wisely, when we can see how to use all the talents available on the team to their best use.

One of them essentially is, “When we don’t do it right, we make it right.”
(Another is that we don’t work with bullies or jerks, but that’s the subject for another post.)

In case you missed it, in advertising news this week, Arby’s somehow had missed honoring a detail of their advertising deal with PepsiCo:  feature Pepsi alongside Arby’s food in two commercials. (That specification was likely in “the fine print,” and clearly it had fallen off of someone’s radar screen and it got missed. It happens.)

And someone at PepsiCo (rightly) called them on it.

Arby’s did three things:
1) they acknowledged the mistake
2) they collaborated with their agency to fix it in a way that didn’t jeopardize all their other creative efforts
3) they took a risk to be human

Their agency (Fallon) went out on a limb and suggested a new ad (if I had to guess, crafted by a probably exhausted and possibly frustrated creative team). An ad that could have been rejected by “the suits,” but one which the savvy humans on the team Arby’s (and then Pepsi) both agreed to run:

And it’s kind of brilliant*.

(*Brilliant, if you know the backstory.  But even if you don’t, it surely accomplishes MORE THAN the letter and the spirit of their agreement with PepsiCo, which surely was the primary audience for this “fix it” job.)

How you behave when you’ve screwed something up is a measure of who you are.

Do you reluctantly fix it, or do you go above and beyond?

Do you “blamestorm,” bluster, make excuses and generally become a pain to work with?

Do you awkwardly try to cover up the goof, or do you own it, ask for forgiveness, and make it right?

When you have the opportunity to make it right, make it memorable.

Don’t just make it right — make it better.

That’s who you really are. You can dress up, behave well in a press conference, say what you think people want to hear when the boss (or the customer) asks, but how you behave in the moments when you believe no one is watching is what defines you.

In case you’ve missed the scandalous video of the week, Ray Rice (of US Football, NFL / Baltimore Ravens fame) basically knocked out his then-fiancee in an elevator as they were leaving a casino. They apparently were having a “spat” prior to this moment, and body language tells me it is plausible that she wasn’t saying loving things to him just prior to this action. In this moment on silent film, he was the one with the left hook. He hit her, her head hit the wall, and she hit the floor. And lay there, motionless, as the elevator doors opened. It’s difficult to watch.

I gasped when I saw it for the first time. I suspect many did.

But he didn’t appear to gasp. He seemed unfazed by what he had just done. His actions didn’t shock him into awareness, he didn’t bend down over her, apologizing, and scooping her up affectionately, cooing, “I didn’t mean it, sweetie…”
(To be fair, none of those reactions would have made the initial blow remotely acceptable … but they would surely have said something about his character. Anyone can “lose it” in a given moment, but his lack of reaction after that moment indicates a disturbing underlying callousness, raising suspicion of a pattern of behavior.)

Rather, he crudely shoved her lifeless body out of the elevator, stopping to pick up her shoe in what could be interpreted as a bit of disgust before stepping ahead and dragging her out. (That “outside the elevator” video is what originally went public.) But at least one – and likely both – of them knew what had really happened inside the elevator. Their “united front” press conference (post video #1) could have gone differently (and, I suspect, preserved his career and family): “we realize now that our once-loving relationship has developed into an abusive one, and we know that isn’t acceptable. We are using this moment to hold up domestic violence as an important issue in our society, and to say that we want to be better. We are going to hold ourselves to a higher standard, and we are actively seeking help to become better people and better partners to each other. We ask that you give us time and privacy to do that.”

But they (he) didn’t do any of that. (To be fair, she is the victim here, he is the celebrity, and I don’t know that she would have had much influence over his actions at that moment). Ray Rice lied by omission to the public, upon whom his family’s livelihood relies. And when they thought no one was watching, his employer (the NFL) tried to sweep this issue under the carpet, to hope that it wouldn’t detract from the pomp and circumstance (and massive revenues) of opening week. They surely hoped that it would go away, and that they wouldn’t have to address the fact that in some years, up to 20%* of their players on the field have been arrested or indicted of crimes ranging from fraud to domestic violence to homicide. But the carpet sweeping didn’t work. The release of the second video from inside the elevator showed us the ugly truth that the Rices (and surely others) already knew. And now, the hammer of public opinion has come down on the Rices and the NFL, as it should.

I don’t claim to understand the Rice’s relationship (relationships are complicated).
I don’t claim to understand the massively complicated issues attached to running a business like the NFL.
But I do understand what it means to do the right thing, especially when someone is watching. And the fact that everyone thought “none of us were watching” as this situation unfolded is as much an indictment on us as a society as anything. Hopefully the silver lining on this (if there is any good that can come from being hit in the face by your soon-to-be-husband) is that this public scrutiny provides the Rices with the opportunity to get help, and provides our society with an opportunity for an important conversation about domestic violence. Janay and Ray Rice could be any of us (abusive relationships can go both ways), and I fear for them. Humans are all animals, at our most dangerous when placed in corners and starved of resources. Ray Rice can still turn this around – for himself, for her, for their family. The NFL can use this opportunity to do great good, starting with cleaning their own house. But the clock is ticking, and it will take all the players here admitting who they really are.

How do you behave when no one is watching?
Do you do the right thing even when it’s the hard thing?
Who is your business when no one is “mystery shopping”?
What do you want cameras to catch you and your team doing?
Start doing it. Keep doing it. Even when it’s hard. Even when it costs you.
When it’s all gone wrong, step up to make it right.
Be a better person. Be a better company.
Someone is always watching.

*statistic from Pros and Cons: The Criminals Who Play in the NFL by Jeff Benedict/Don Yaeger

photo credit: Pippalou from Morguefile

It’s not about the number of followers or clicks, it’s about the quality of connections.

Yes, the noise is getting louder and finding your way through the chaos isn’t easy.
Yes, the internet is full of trolls and cat videos. But it’s also full of awesome:

Show up and participate.

I was honored to be able to bring Sean in to work with one of our Executive Academy for Growth & Leadership (EAGL) events… through the magic of the internet. Which sounds a little hokey, but true. At MonkeyBar Management, we are proud of the diverse networks of connections that we nurture to support our client’s needs. How can we be helpful to you?

header photo credit: FantasyDesigns1 via MorgueFile

It’s not enough (and in fact it’s not smart) to simply follow the cues of those around you: if you haven’t heard the whistle, the play isn’t over. There’s still a shot at the score.

Depending on which side of the Chicago Bears / Green Bay Packers (American NFL Football) rivalry you fall on, you either love or hate this simple lesson this morning. A game is more than a single play, of course, but the Packers prevailed by only 5 points in the NFC north championship game in part due to a moment of awareness of one of the game’s most basic rules:  it’s the whistle that signifies the end of a play.

Marginally-applicable sports analogies abound in business management philosophy, so why not this one: when in doubt, assume the ball is live. As the wound-licking Bears (and their fans, some of whom I am related to) know all too well this morning, it can be the difference between a berth in the playoffs and the end of the season.

I had a powerful real-life lesson in this during our busiest season this month: a multi-year client contract was scheduled to sunset. It might have been easy to give in to the temptation to “phone it in” on the last few weeks of the agreement: I’m a human and life is busy. I could have put my (limited) energy into upcoming (new) business rather than the final phase of a contract that was coming to an end.

But we’re “finish strong” people, even when it pushes our limits. The last days of the contract get superior service, too – equivalent to the first days. Because leaving with a strong impression is at least as important to coming in with one. Our opportunity for return engagements and for word-of-mouth referrals depend on it.

The whistle hadn’t blown. And in the final days of the project … much to all of our surprise, the client’s situation shifted dramatically. And our contract was not only renewed but expanded for the coming year(s).

Which it surely wouldn’t (and shouldn’t) have been if we had played lackadaisically in those last weeks.

Similarly, I have been to one too many retail stores this week where staff were barely “going through the motions” after an (understandably) exhausting Christmas season.

But the whistle hasn’t blown:  shoppers are in the store, spending hard-earned money. These are sales needed to clean out the shelves and provide cashflow. From that perspective, they are critical (not to mention potentially the opportunity to convert shoppers for future visits or sell tie-in merchandise at full price.)

When the whistle blows signaling the end of 2013, will you be proud of your team’s efforts?  Or will you be kicking yourself for a momentary lapse in judgement and dedication?

Until the play is completely dead, there’s always a chance:  to retain the customer, to make a great impression,  to renew the membership, to get the score.

But you’ve gotta play like you mean it. Play like the ball is alive. Like the game is on the line. Because in business, it almost always is. 

This is a scary story about a person who wears a mask the other 364 days a year: the ‘person next door’ masquerading as a caring, trustworthy, professional who is all the while taking pleasure in manipulating and taking advantage of you.

This is the true tale of the wolf in sheep’s clothing:  I was the Little Red Riding Hood who had a much-too-close encounter with a seemingly-professional, charming, smooth-talking, deceitful, remorseless sociopath.

We imagine sociopaths to be, well, mass murderers. It’s easy to think, “I’d never be taken in by someone like that.”  But in fact, sociopathy is simply defined as the absence of a conscience – a condition that does not necessarily present itself violently. And you’d be shocked at how you can be taken in.

Sociopathy is a “noncorrectable disfigurement of character thought to be present in about 4% of the population.”1

(That’s one in twenty five people!  The odds are that you probably know one, too.)

This is a cautionary tale, one that may save someone else’s business. Because the wolf who pulled the wool over my eyes is still out there, knitting caps for others.  I was fortunate that I saw clearly enough to end the business relationship when I did, minimizing the financial and emotional damage to other clients and colleagues. I’m not a psychologist (nor do I play one on the internet!), but I have done a lot of research into this topic as a part of my quest to understand what happened. How was I taken in?  How did her mask fool me?  How can I spot the next wolf on the path?

Someone who seems to have an almost seductive charisma:  “One of the more frequently observed traits is a glib and superficial charm that allows the true sociopath to seduce other people, figuratively or literally – a kind of glow or charisma that, initially can make the sociopath seem more charming or interesting than most of the normal people around him.”1  Sociopaths often brag about their ability to influence or control others.

Someone who thinks he is particularly talented or special, superior to others:  “Sometimes this ‘sociopathic charisma’ is accompanied by a grandiose sense of self-worth that may be compelling at first, but upon closer inspection may seem odd or perhaps laughable (e.g., “someday the world will realize how special I am.”)”1  In fact, buoyed by this unfounded sense of superiority and obsession with fame/becoming famous, the sociopath may not even have the skills that he professes to have (particularly disturbing in a business environment).

Someone who has a series of continually failed relationships, based on lies:  “As a group they (sociopaths) are known for their pathological lying and conning and their (serial) parasitic relationships with “friends.”  They are noted especially for their shallowness of emotion, the hollow and transient nature of any affectionate feelings that they may claim to have, and a certain breathtaking callousness.”1   Sociopaths treat friends and business relationships as entirely disposable. People who are no longer useful to them (or who have ‘seen through’ the mask) are discarded.

With one in twenty-five people exhibiting sociopathic characteristics, the chances are good that your next client, team, business deal might come with a built in sociopath. Here are some steps you can take to protect yourself:

1. Check the facts. 

Remember that “deceit is the linchpin of conscienceless behavior.”1

With the myriad tools available today, I’m shocked at how many people blatantly falsify their resumes, claim education they didn’t complete, or “name drop” to get through the door, presuming their charisma will carry them through to the paycheck. I’m embarrassed that she used my name and work to open doors for herself as she was wooing potential clients.  Are you considering hiring someone?  Are you putting your reputation on the line to collaborate on a project?  Have candid conversations with people who have actually worked intimately with this person in the past … digging if you need to in order find the right people to ask, not just references provided.  Those glowing testimonials you are presented with: are they from people who have actually paid this person for a product or service, or just fuzzy and false marketing from distant acquaintances?  The woman I worked with made grandiose claims about her successes and abilities – the truth of which would have been easily uncovered with just a little digging. When hiring or collaborating with someone, it’s not impolite to ask specific questions of what someone’s work entailed:  ordering in dinner for delivery does not constitute “brand experience with Domino’s Pizza.”  If project specifics are sketchy, heavy in buzzwords, or lacking in team members to vouch for them…  it’s time to dig a little deeper, or just walk away. A charming sociopath presumes their charisma can override almost anything:  trust your gut, but check the facts.

2. Beware flattery, missing links, and “new best friends.”

When you meet someone new who wants to spend tons of time with you, tells you how great you are at things, wants to leverage your energies immediately (for their own benefit) … ask yourself, where did the LAST ‘bestie’ friend, business partner, assistant, boyfriend, or collaborator go? Sociopaths gather people around them like possessions who are then discarded when they are no longer useful.  Be a bit leery of someone who has a trail of failed business partnerships/marriages behind them. Sociopaths are also fundamentally narcissistic, and blatant stroking of others’ egos  is an easy way to get their own fed in return. There is a difference between a genuine compliment and flattery – “flattery is extreme and appeals to our egos in unrealistic ways. It is the material of counterfeit charm and nearly always involves intent to manipulate.”1 Manipulation is a hallmark of sociopathy. The woman I worked with bragged about her ability to “get people to do what she wanted them to do.” She was quite literally either seducing or bullying people into working with her and for her.  But not for very long. Keep an eye on someone’s relationship history and effusive flattery: it’s a waving red flag begging for you to look a little closer.

3. See the danger of “Look at me!”

While it’s true that social media has enabled everyone’s latent narcissistic tendencies (“Look at my 246^th selfie! #Adorbz”), Narcissistic Personality Disorder is scarier than that. It is characterized by “arrogant behavior, a lack of empathy for other people, and a need for admiration – all of which must be consistently evident at work and in relationships.”  (Psychology Today)

These people go to painstaking efforts to create a life that “looks perfect” – the right car, the right clothes, the right friends/club/vacations:  all the right accessories (so you can admire and shower them with compliments, of course).  But the moment that the conversation isn’t about how wonderful they are (or how inferior YOU are), they become disinterested or disconnected, with an unsettling look of glassy ‘deadness’ deep in their eyes.  There is a distinct line between confidence / self-esteem and true narcissism. Once you realize the difference, it’s easier to spot (Mayo Clinic).

4. Know that the truth will set you free.

Over time, I realized that this person was (at best) misleading people and (at worst) blatantly stealing from her clients and her business partner:  being paid but not delivering the work, passing others’ work off as her own, delivering advice she was entirely unqualified to deliver (resulting in potentially disastrous consequences for the recipients.)

But oh, she looked the part: polished, photogenic, bold — her fraud was not easy to detect. Really, no one wanted to detect it … it was easier to believe the veneer. Right up until it was too obvious to ignore. Patterns emerged.  Half-truths were detected. And when she was calmly and professionally confronted with these truths, she didn’t deny them. She just closed up shop, cut ties with those who had confronted her, and moved on to the next ‘mark.’

 “Other people deserve to be warned more than sociopaths deserve to have you keep their secrets.”1

She said once (likely trying to curry favor or pity), “people will find out I’m a fraud.” And in that moment, I did feel sorry for her. But I was just relieved to be out of the relationship, and so I kept quiet about what I knew.

I debated for a long time about writing this post.  As embarrassing as it is to admit that I was a victim, as uncomfortable as it can be to confront someone about their lies, I write this so you aren’t the next mark. Intimidating people into silence is the weapon of a bully.

Anne Lamott says it best!

The bully can’t win.

We all work too hard to be taken advantage of by the wolf.

And funny, once I started being honest with people about my experience, others were quick to say, “you know, I always thought something wasn’t quite right there.” But my silence had enabled her to prey on others.  We must have the courage to speak up: the truth will set us free.

Honesty can be hard. While I have chosen not publish her name here, she knows who she is, and she knows that I am prepared to be candid about my experiences with her when asked. I now realize that she is plagued by a ‘noncorrectable disfigurement of character,’1  a disability that she cannot change, and one that I pity: it must be crushingly lonely to have no empathy. But I won’t knowingly participate in her seduction of her next “mark.” Wolves are fascinating creatures when you accept them for what they are and control your exposure to them so they don’t injure you.

The point isn’t her identity specifically … the point is that 4% of the population are sociopaths.  Armed with a little knowledge, you can avoid being manipulated for someone else’s personal gain.  Throughout this post, I have quoted liberally (1) from “The Sociopath Next Door” by Martha Stout, Ph.D – a book I strongly recommend as a resource if this is a topic that interests you.   (That’s not an affiliate link, I don’t have any vested interest here.)

But I’ll end this scary tale with the good news:  as Dr. Stout reminds us, this means that 96% of the population are not sociopaths.

Tomorrow, when 96% of us take off our masks, keep an eye out for the deceptive wolf who is still wearing sheep’s clothing, the sociopath who can pull the wool over the eyes of even the most vigilant among us. And then choose another path through the woods.

photocredit:  ‘Gimrie’ via Morguefile

I suspect that we will be tapping into the MonkeyBar on our next project—even if we have to create one! Kellee and her team are that good—and they want to, and do, add value.

Frank Benzing
President & CEO

How much would I have to spend at Macy’s in order to get a bag as nice as I just got to carry two $8  burritos home from Chipotle?

My husband asked last night (over the aforementioned takeout dinner.)

“$400? $500? I’m serious. I don’t think they even have an option anymore other than those cheap plastic bags whose handles rip before you get to the car.”

A whole brand experience, summarized in our snarky comments about a flimsy (and it IS flimsy) printed piece of plastic.

Not entirely fair, no. But accurate. And consumer perception is reality.

Macy’s has (apparently) invested an incredible amount of corporate resource to curate their “fashion brands” … (Tommy Hilfiger, Ralph Lauren, Martha Stewart, Trump, etc.) and yet every customer who walks out of the store with these “investment pieces” carries them in something (far) less durable than a kitchen trash bag? (A bag which is likely bundled up and carried through the last 1/4 mile of parking lot in a clenched fist like a cheap version of Santa’s sack when the handles pull through?) We’re not talking about the new brands they launched this season over dinner, we’re discussing the memorably-shoddy quality of the container used to carry out the merchandise.  (We’re dorks who spend a fair amount of time laughing over their painfully long 6-point-font sale exclusions policy language as well, but I digress.)

EVERYTHING about your brand sends a message to the customer.

(I offer for contrast the reuseable fabric bags I just lovingly folded up and carried home in my suitcase from  Lululemon and Hot Mama, both laden with inspirational messaging designed to resonate with their largely-female consumers, a consumer I presume they share with Macy’s.)

You know, it wasn’t always this way. I remember handled paper Macy’s bags from Christmases past, perhaps even with some sort of holiday messaging or – gasp – grommets and rope handles?  (It’s just dawning on me that I might have a bag fetish.) I must presume that somewhere along the line a cost-cutting decision was made at Macy’s. Has anyone looked at that decision recently with fresh eyes, asking “what does this say about us?”  and “is this consistent with the brand experience our customers expect?”

Brands are living organisms that exist in a complex and constantly changing ecosystem. I bet no one sitting in a ‘brand identity’ meeting at Macy’s today has any idea they are being compared with Chipotle, and yet they are. No brand experience lives in a vacuum. Your consumers compare the experience at your store (the products, the sullen cashier, the restrooms, the lighting, the music, and yes – THE BAGS)  to every other restaurant, hotel, store, that we’ve been in recently:  whether you see them as “your competition” or not.

When your fancy department store offers a less inspiring ending experience than a fast food transaction,

When your independent retail staff cultivates less project assistance or visual inspiration than a “big box” store,

When it is (far) less frustrating for a customer to order something online from you than to muddle her way through your in-store experience,

(And, lest you think I’ve forgotten the nonprofit organizations,) When your pricey annual association membership offers a less educational interaction or a less connected network than participating in a virtual group through Facebook, Linked In, or a magazine,

…  you’ve got some soul searching to do.

Everything speaks.  Are you listening?

photo credit:  my bags, taken with my Android.  Apologies to Macy’s that their bag isn’t shown – it wasn’t worth keeping after the last trip. 

What it is a post about is a dangerous phenomenon:  one that I have witnessed in nonprofit associations, in city governments, in businesses large & small, in families, in volunteer committees of all shapes and sizes.

It’s a phenomenon that – given its pervasiveness in society – I could surmise might have plagued the Papal Conclave as well.

It’s His Turn

You’ve surely witnessed this plague in action:

• Susan was the Vice Chair of the event last year, so she’ll become the event Chair this year.

• Max has ‘paid his dues’ on the board for 5 years so he should ascend to the Vice Chairmanship.

• Mary has been the Coordinator in that department for 3 years, so now that Bob has been promoted to Director, she should logically take over his position as Manager.

• The current city council members have an off-the-record conversation that “If Gene wants to run for Mayor, we won’t run against him…”

• He’s the first born (son), so he’s going to take over the family business (country).

I suppose it is statistically possible that the ‘next in line’ actually IS (by coincidence rather than design) the best person for the task at hand.  But particularly given the pace of change in the world today, my observational experience says it’s more-than-likely not to be the case.

Worse than just not ideal – allowing an “It’s His Turn” philosophy to flourish can truly be a kiss of death for an organization. Even the perception of this ethos at work can signal that the company is not actually responsive to client/constituent needs. That merit and skill are less valued than time served. That we are out of touch with what is actually going on in our community. That we are not transparent about our process.

For the sake of the Catholic Church and the 1 billion + people worldwide that they serve, I hope that the College of Cardinals asked questions like these when considering whom to elect:

What specific skills does the organization need today?

What are the biggest obstacles we face on the path to success?

What kind of personality traits are best suited to address our needs and challenges?

What communities will be emboldened or disenfranchised by the selection?

What changes are coming rapidly that we need to prepare for, who has the vision to see them clearly?

To the public eye, the College of Cardinals had the opportunity to choose anyone (well, any Catholic Male) to lead them.  I am hopeful that with days of prayer, reflection, holy wisdom-seeking that they didn’t simply select the person who was the ‘first runner up’ to Benedict during the prior voting. Given the secrecy and lack of transparency surrounding the process, we can’t know. Surely he is being lauded by the media (and Catholic friends of mine who are more equipped to gauge) as the “right man for the job” – with traits that do seem to answer at least some of the questions above.

Decisions in your world may not attract such scrutiny or media attention, but if it feels like “It’s His Turn” for something in your world, ask yourself – ask your team:  SHOULD it be?

And if the answer is no, I pray that you have the courage to vote differently. Your business depends on it.

1. Understand what nourishment looks like. You first must commit to keeping the enterprise fed, even if that means eating bugs and chewing up the sacred cow. Create an environment whose mission is to provide sustenance to the organization at any cost. This includes not only allowing but cultivating the “crazy ideas” – the 10% of ideas that may, at first glance, seem bizarre and unpalatable. All edibles are on.

2. Identify your sacred cow(s). Every client I have worked with has programs and processes that continue to move forward, unquestioned, “because that’s how we do it.” To find yours, ask three questions:

Where are the non-performing SKUs?: Borrowing a term from retailing, profitable retailers must ensure that their square footage is returning the best margin possible, regularly discontinuing the bottom 10% of products to create space for higher-producing inventory. In associations, your “shop floor” is your staff and budget. In these lean times, most are pushed beyond capacity fulfilling the programs (products) you’ve already got. Reconfigure now to create space for programs and services that will return a better margin, audience, or connection.

Whom do we need to alert? Before you discontinue any program, be candid with those customers who will be affected. Most are probably business people who have made difficult decisions of their own and they will understand.

Who’s got a cow to proffer? To create a culture of identifying the tastiest sacred cows, turn to staff and volunteers, conducting a monthly or quarterly “What should we stop doing?” inquiry. Incent them for their suggestions.

3. Know your enemy. In any post-apocalyptic environment, you’d be aware of the marauders around every corner. Have you considered enemies like these?

Competitors: Associations today have many competitors. In fact, besides the Internet, the growth of competition is the most significant challenge to association management I’ve seen in 20 years. Formerly supportive sponsor organizations launch their own programs and services to reach the membership base. Once collaborative trade magazines, in a scramble for revenue themselves, are launching online and print products that compete aggressively for a shrinking ad revenue stream. In a world with fewer geographic boundaries, other state/regional/national organizations are claiming new ground. Your members are already finding value elsewhere. Do you have a “Chief Competition Officer,” someone whose job it is to know what these others are doing?

Nelly & SALY: “Negative Nelly” shoots down any idea presented and creates an unpleasant work environment. Get rid of her, and watch the rest of the team’s productivity skyrocket. SALY, “Same As Last Year,” is not a person, it’s a philosophy. SALY breeds in places where too much workload & too few resources produces little incentive for the team to innovate. A “no-SALY” policy gives new products and services a fighting chance.

4. Stop biting the hand that feeds you. Sponsor neglect is rampant in associations, a recipe for disaster in a competitive environment. Senior executives should regularly sit down with the top 20% of sponsors. An open dialogue will disclose how – and whether – your association’s products and services are meeting sponsor needs. In many cases, sponsors are more attuned to member needs than staff and can bring compelling ideas (and funding) to your table.

Through honest & aggressive consideration of these four areas, associations can be well on their way to a sustainable future. It’s not too late to start: your survival, literally, depends on it.

Part I of the “Scorched Earth” series was published in the October issue of Marketing AdVents, the monthly newsletter of the Direct Marketing Association of Washington (DC).  Part II – “How To Start A Bonfire and Grind Up the Sacred Cow” was part of the February 2013 issue in the association’s monthly column addressing trends in direct marketing within trade associations and nonprofits.