April 29, 2013 by Ken Goldstein - 6 Comments

Can They Hear You Listening?

Consultant? Mentor? Coach? However you might be trying to encourage someone who is already an outstanding professional do what they do better, what is most likely to get in your way? It is quite possible that professional is not accustomed to being on the receiving end of good coaching. Any leader who spends most of their time getting things done promptly, inspiring a team with excellence, may have forgotten or never have learned how to be open to quality feedback. That may seem like the executive’s problem, but it is clearly a challenge any great coach should be excited to accept.

One of the key problems many executives face is the impossibility of getting honest, useful feedback, often until it is too late. A study last fall from the Kellogg School of Management identified the Icarus Paradox as a particularly pernicious factor in the continuing success of accomplished CEOs. Where top executives are often most in need of quality feedback, they are often at the disadvantage of their own nervous circles. Exaggerated levels of flattery and opinion conformity are too often the norm within organizations, leaving the already exposed leader even more exposed than necessary, too often in the spirit of being well-meaning. “My advice would be to remember that the higher you are, the more likely you are to be ingratiated, and therefore you should make sure you get advice from people who do not depend on you,” wrote Northwestern professor Ithai Stern, one of the authors of the study.

There’s some interesting advice — seek input from someone who has no reason to flatter you, but rather is 100% aligned with you objectively for success. Sounds like opportunity with huge upside for the right person ready to provide that challenge in a manner where it is unfiltered, constructive, and uncompromised. The goal is not so much self-enhancement of the individual as it is strategic enhancement of the individual’s mission, upon which so many are depending.

Sounds like an ideal place to be, but how do you get there? Surely it’s possible for someone like Baseball Hall of Famer Sandy Koufax to return to his Dodger roots and offer a pointer or two to Cy Young Award Winner Clayton Kershaw, who is still early in his career and confident enough in his own pitching to know how to listen to a legend. What if your experience is different from that of the person you are coaching — can you still be of high value? Because I do this every day with world-class individuals who do things I could never do, I promise you that you can — but you do have some immensely hard work ahead of you.

Imagine you could help anyone in the world get better at what they do in a professional context, regardless of his or her area of expertise or your own. Hey, this is for fun, pick anyone you want — an artist, an athlete, a headline corporate leader. Great, keep that person in mind, and presume you are not renowned for the same things they are. How are you going to get past the barrier of getting them to accept your insight? That perhaps is a much bigger challenge than getting the fantasy assignment in the first place.

You might be saying to yourself your initial goal has to be to establish rapport, and that would be a good place to start, but what does it mean? In the Executive Coaching Workshop I lead with John Vercelli at Coaches Training institute, we talk less about the notion of rapport, and more about the notion of empathy. In the many exercises and role-playing scenarios we run, we have yet to find two individuals so disparate in life experience that they cannot find a path to empathy. In this context, empathy is the basis of common understanding, an appreciation of shared aspirations and motivating factors, an interlinking of common goals outside the specifics of a work-oriented task. No matter how far apart people begin, if they make the effort and commit themselves to finding reciprocal empathy, they can find common ground to break down a set of complex problems quickly and consistently. The outreach that constitutes the task of discovering empathy leads to the bond of trust that is essential in any coaching relationship. Find empathy, establish trust, and the process of being open to outside support is not nearly as hard as it seems.

Is it any wonder that this kind of trust is difficult for an executive to exhibit in the hyper competitive workplace? Anyone in a position of leadership is constantly faced with endless conflicts of interest, mixed messages, hidden agendas, and far too much flattery. When a coach can break through all that noise through the powerful act of focused listening, the next person likely to listen might be the executive. That could constitute an unequaled breakthrough and the beginning of a powerful business friendship.

If Professor Stern and his colleagues are right about the Icarus Paradox, and senior business leaders can be set up for a fall by unrealistic levels of strategic confidence fostered by too many piled up compliments, then the smartest ones are going to look outward for the right kind of listening and more useful forms of feedback. That’s a field day for the executive coach willing to step up and be honest, empathetic, and a confidential source of creative exchange. With that kind of listening, flattery can be replaced with progress.

April 11, 2013 by Ken Goldstein - 17 Comments

About This Book of Mine

I have mentioned now and again that I have been working on a novel for a few years. It’s time to share a few more details.

First of all the title: This Is Rage. You will discover why I called it that if you read the sample excerpt on my teaser site and other fine channels we will be utilizing in the coming months, like Amazon or Barnes and Noble, where you can currently place your pre-order that will be shipped when the book is officially released on October 8, 2013. Shameless, I know, but I am officially in the pull marketing business effective immediately.

There are two protagonists in the story, who are also both antagonists, at least to each other. They are each hero and villain in the broader context of economic turmoil, which they aspire to improve, but not surprisingly mess up on high-octane, mostly by accident. Kimo Balthazer is a disgraced radio talk show host, who seeks redemption in the obtuse netherworld of internet webcasting. Daniel Steyer is a venture capitalist at the top of his game, looking to go out huge with the deal of a lifetime, but market forces have other plans. That’s not the order in which you will meet them, and you’ll find out why. At the outset they don’t know each other exists. They don’t even know each other’s world exists. But they soon do. And they don’t like each other. At all.

I am going to do the right thing and not toss out any spoilers, but I can say that you will spend some time in Silicon Valley, some time in Los Angeles, and some time in Washington D.C. You will be introduced to the world of Investors, Bankers, and Operators, the three points of an ever-forming triangle that comes with its own hierarchy, rule set, chaos, and politics. You will also meet a curious politician with a tangential agenda, a conflicted movie studio boss, the co-founders of one of the most successful tech-start-ups ever, and a pair of would-be entrepreneurs turned criminals whose interpretation of thinking different is not quite what their families had in mind. You will be invited into board meetings and venture partner meetings. You will hear the voice of Kimo in your head. You will see what happens when ego and presumption run amok, and the notion of control spirals into hyper normalcy, where random boo-boos add up big time, and the consequences are strangely real and familiar.

My key influence for this book is Tom Wolfe, whose first novel Bonfire of the Vanities blew my mind in ways that still shake me to the core. I didn’t know what a bond trader was the first two years I was in college. Then I saw a bunch of guys my age lining up in blue suits to be interviewed to become one. They went to Wall Street and became extraordinarily wealthy selling paper promises to their clients. Then came the broad implosion of junk debt. Michael Lewis, whom I also tremendously admire, made his debut as an author writing about this phenomenon. I saw the impact on my friends, I saw the impact on New York, and I felt the impact on our economy. What I admire to this day about Wolfe’s work was how he wove storytelling through the observational narrative, migrating the educational lesson to character development, and burying the polemic in a moral tale for the ages. I was studying theater at the time, without notion of how I might fit into the business world, or even if I could make a living given what I valued.

A quarter century later we seem to have forgotten the fall of the junk bond kings. The miracle of Silicon Valley has replaced the lustre of Wall Street and the allure of Hollywood. I have played my whole career in this fantastic environment of innovation, the arranged marriage of technology and media brokered by the matchmaker financiers, and the output had been invigorating. We have created jobs, opportunities, and a good deal of wealth — but not for everyone. In the same way that Wolfe and his New Journalism looked beyond the restaurants and clubs and luxury high-rise suites, I have seen the scary trailing the good. Where there is big money there are big personalities, and where there is a win-lose battle fought daily, often those who lose are the secondary foils who play by the rules without insight into the eccentric ecosystem.

That is the story I wanted to tell. That’s why I wrote a business novel instead of a non-fiction set of adages. This was something I needed to do, part of the continuum of my journey. I started my career in storytelling, then helped bring storytelling into computer games, then found my way into profit and loss, and now I come full circle. I needed a way to bring these elements together, to find a synthesis of my passions, which include the theatrical, the financial, the philosophical, the hope of justice, and a touch of dark humor (hopefully more than a touch!).

In the coming months I will tell you more about the publishing journey, but I cannot conclude this project announcement without a sincere thank you to my brilliant editor, Lou Aronica, under whose independent imprint The Story Plant my book is being published. Lou is a Mensch in every sense of the word (Google it if that’s unfamiliar to you). He has been a steadfast believer in This is Rage since we met each other last year on Twitter. It’s not just the notes that he gives me, it’s the way he communicates his viewpoint that makes me want to rewrite a fourth time when he is only asking for the third. I think Lou, a bestselling author himself, is at the forefront of New Publishing in the same way Wolfe wanted New Journalism to embrace the opportunities of Creative Destruction as a positive force for change. Wherever this journey takes us, I am delighted to be paddling alongside a friend on this whitewater river of 21st century digital publishing — with a paperback to boot.

So that’s the introductory story of my novel. It’s my first, I hope not my last, and I welcome you to come along and share the journey with us. It’s for you, and it’s about you. I hope to entertain, and maybe share an idea or two as the whitewater rises.

This is Rage.

April 2, 2013 by Ken Goldstein - 9 Comments

I’ll Get Back To You

Here’s an observation—the busiest, most successful people in business are the ones who follow-up when they say they will follow-up.

Those who tell you they will get back to you and don’t are not at the top of the food chain, no matter what they think. They are insecure, weak, or hiding something. These are people who are there when they need you, invisible when you have nothing to offer them. They are not just disingenuous, they are deceived.

I’m not talking about the person who won’t return your cold call. That happens, although the best executives I have ever met are the ones who will give anyone at least a single chance with a cold call. I’m talking about the person who asks to see your business plan and then never gives you feedback. I’m talking about the company that posts a job online, and then ignores the applicants who pour out their hearts in their submissions. I’m talking about the person in your network who knows you well, whom you ask to read your proposal, and then when you follow-up ignores you. That’s not just bad manners—it’s bad business.

I can’t tell you how many of the people I mentor relate utter frustration at being ignored by former colleagues they once counted among their contacts. Many of these same people are still out of work from the recession, apply for an open position, hear nothing back, and when they call or email, still hear nothing back.

The sound of silence is not a sign of importance or strength. It’s not a sign of how busy you are. It’s a sign that you did not have a good boss on your way up who taught you how to play the long game. All of the great bosses I’ve had—and some were very big bosses—return their calls and their emails on a regular basis. The others were arrogant, lazy, or both—and that’s how they are likely to be remembered at tribute time, silently or spoken.

I’m not sure when this sort of behavior became acceptable. It probably had something to do with email, to the people who are facing 200 or 300 entries in their inbox every day. Often those people have an assistant to help them manage the flow, but it is up to each person to decide whether the words “I’ll get back to you” mean something or are hollow.

If you don’t want to read someone’s business plan, say so. I do it all the time. Say “that’s not in my wheelhouse” or “my plate is too full at the moment” or” I don’t think we’d make good partners.” That’s honest and takes you off the hook. Anyone would rather hear that than the sound of silence.

If you agree to get back to someone, or you solicit candidates for an open position, you should follow through. That is the right thing to do, and guess what, someday you too will be on the sending end of that interchange, and you’ll wonder why the other person has decided not to let you know the truth. People I know right now who never returned phone calls aren’t getting their phone calls returned. How about that!

I have seen this work both ways at every company I have worked, partnered, or consulted. All of the great CEOs and Board Members for whom I worked returned their outside calls and emails, especially if they asked to see something. The best VCs I know let you know if they want to proceed or not—they don’t all do this, but the best ones with the best names do. Realtors who want a relationship with you call back whether you are a seller or a buyer, whether you have a listing or are even in the market. Most of the mayors of great cities respond to the feedback they solicit. So do the Senators, House Representatives, County Supervisors, and Assembly Members.

You know who doesn’t return your call? The guy who sat in the cube next to you when you were 25 and now is a VP at the ZYX company, the guy you later bump into at Starbucks and says give me a call sometime, and when you do, doesn’t acknowledge your call. Rent his office now, he’s toast. You know who else? The person who fashions herself a boutique investment banker, whom you meet at a networking event, who asks if you know any great start-up entrepreneurs, and when you send one her way, ignores them. Wouldn’t give her my business. Anyone else? The op-ed executive at the dying newspaper who doesn’t tell you why you didn’t make the masthead. Also that fellow in your LinkedIn Level 1 contacts who says in his news feed he has an open position, and when you forward him a friend’s profile, never clicks on it.

Here’s the cool part, where the winners really win. The truly resilient never hear the sound of silence. If you ignore them, they go to the next person, and the next person after that. Who loses? You do, my former friend, because the individual who is that resilient, who does not care that you did not respect him, that is the person who probably has the best idea in town. Know what? You could have had it first. You asked or agreed to review it, but then you dropped the ball. When that resilient person finds the right partner, she has won, you have lost. Every single time.

You are always better off being honest with bad news than silent with none. If you only respond when there is good news—something you want or need—you’re opportunistic, not in it for the long haul, surely not someone who cares about the people in your circles, only what they can do for you. When you open a door, open it all the way, or your true intentions will be impossible to hide.

Your network is only valuable if you nurture it constantly. Your word is all you have.

March 14, 2013 by Ken Goldstein - 3 Comments

Surviving the Limelight

When is an Executive Coach most valued by a client? Not surprisingly, often when a client is most surprised! Getting blindsided by the unexpected is part of the job for executives, but how they handle an awakened dragon is what really matters. As an Executive Coach, your role in this rebound cannot be underestimated.

Consider as an example Yahoo CEO Marissa Mayer, who recently attracted more visibility than usual when she set a reasonably straightforward human resources policy for her company to limit telecommuting. Regardless of whether you agree with her on the necessity of employees being present at an office every day, it is hard not to be surprised by the public outcry in response to her internal company announcement. She is the company’s Chief Executive Officer, she is in the midst of a tough turnaround, and she has the board assigned authority to run the company day-to-day. The fact that her decision attracted so much public attention – headline news around the world – likely surprised even her.

Was the reaction of non-Yahoos likely to cause her to change her mind? Pretty unlikely. Was the media sensation that found reason to demonize her an easy punch to deflect? That seems equally unlikely. Had you been her Executive Coach, what would you have said to her? More importantly, would you have been ready to say anything at all?

I would presume that Ms. Mayer has a well-established support system including personal and professional mentors to help dust her off after a fall, but what about those executives a notch or two down from the top job at companies like hers? Surely the loud reaction to her memo represents an extreme, but as a former CEO myself, I assure you the spotlight can shine unfavorably without warning. Senior executives are almost always operating at a high level of visibility, both within their companies and to the outside world. Say the wrong thing or implement an otherwise innocuous tactic in any compromising manner and the wallop that follows can be bone crushing.

There are unlimited roles an Executive Coach can play in serving a client, but perhaps none is more vital than the quiet sanctuary of crisis management. Wherever the Executive Coach might be weighing in on the spectrum of support – from consultant to mentor – the sounding board an Executive Coach provides to an executive under fire can ensure continuity over severance. A seasoned Executive Coach might be the only individual qualified, prepared, and able to help an executive repel hyperbole and steady the ship. How much the executive can depend on a coach in times of unwanted celebrity may mean the difference between getting through the interrupt or falling prey to demoralization.

To be clear, it may not be the surprise act causing an unusual uproar that delivers material damage to the executive’s business agenda. It may be the executive’s immediate and unformed response. There is an extraordinary distance to navigate between thoughtful, timely reaction and analysis paralysis. An Executive Coach remains in the executive’s corner with 100% objectivity, without conflict of interest, and without intellectual or emotional compromise to help the executive sort through all available options in near real-time.

Remember, an executive is a champion, just like a star athlete. The executive has signed onto the team roster to win. All executives know they will be surprised by the response to one of their decisions sooner or later, but that does not mean they want to dig themselves out of the muck alone, especially when they never saw the sinkhole coming. Where an executive has a trusted Executive Coach accessible for counsel, that Executive Coach can guide the executive toward accessing empowered resilience to any potentially catastrophic attack. Responding to attack will always be part of an executive’s job, but incorporating the focused perspective of an Executive Coach to respond with inspiration can make for a brilliant recovery.

When John Vercelli and I run our simulations and role-plays for Coaches Training Institute to help ready a CTI Executive Coach for the highest levels of client service, we are not just thinking about how to help an Executive Coach win a client. We are deeply concerned how an Executive Coach retains a client, adds tremendous value to the critical work of a client, and is always available to help that client keep winning no matter the obstacles they encounter. Because an executive must be nimble and responsive in today’s 24 x 7 x 365 competitive environment, an Executive Coach must be equally if not more nimble and responsive. Anticipating the unexpected is of course impossible in the specific, but necessary in the abstract. You never get an extra beat when the spotlight shines. You sing when the light comes on. Being ready is what makes you great, and being present is what makes you forever dependable.

No one can ever tell you when a fire is going to ignite. The only thing you know for sure is there will be a fire. Being an Executive Coach means you are a vital part of your client’s response team, often where the team is just you and the executive. Are you ready for that level of responsibility? Are you ready to help your executive win when the odds are at their lowest? If so, the difference you make can mean everything. For that you will always be cherished.