public service | CorporateIntel

I recently enjoyed the privilege of participating in a small group online discussion with Frederick W, Smith, the founder and longtime CEO of Federal Express. Imagine being at the helm of a global disruptor like FedEx for an uncanny five decades. Think someone like that might have a few things to say about the life and times of business, society, and learning? You might be as surprised as I was about the big ideas he would most want us to embrace.

Legend has it that the initial business plan for FedEx emerged from an economics paper Smith wrote as an undergraduate at Yale University, describing the need for a reliable overnight delivery service. He best remembers receiving a grade of C on that composition. That idea grew out of his experiences as a young pilot, occasionally offering to deliver important packages for New England technology companies that he would carry in his personal travels.

Equally important in the formation of his character was a four-year stint in the U.S. Marine Corps commencing in 1966 where he received officer training and served in Vietnam. “Yale taught me to think, and the Marines taught me to do,” notes Smith in shaping his vision and leadership of FedEx, which he founded in 1971. The company began regular operations in 1973 and just celebrated its fiftieth anniversary. Smith has transitioned to executive chairman but is every bit as engaged in the company’s direction as he was at the outset.

Early market studies confirmed Smith’s thesis that there was an enormous opportunity for an integrated global delivery network that would be realized by harnessing the power of transportation machinery and sophisticated data systems. He took on the daunting task of merging the capabilities of technology with the mapping of logistics, bringing together physical assets and mathematical calculations on a vast scale. He knew that building this kind of network was a frontloaded bet, but that once established, the barriers to entry of challenging that network would create both a competitive advantage and a trusted brand among customers.

Today that network generates $90 billion in annual revenue, employs 550,000 people plus another 150,000 contractors, moves 16 million shipments each day, operates in 5000 locations in 220 countries, manages 650 planes, and coordinates 210,000 vehicles. FedEx accomplishes this through endless innovation, precision execution, and constant reinvention.

What can we learn from an incomparable entrepreneur, celebrated business leader, and caring philanthropist that might be even more exemplary than an indefatigable work ethic? My key takeaway from listening to his carefully chosen words is that humility is a choice, and Smith embraces humility not just as a core personal value, but as a motivating force that drives him to an always improving game. “The world does not begin with your birth,” he reminds us. “There is much to learn in studying the thinkers who came before you.”

Given the ceaseless advances in information technology, Smith believes it is the CEO’s job to stay immersed in the evolution of change management. In addition to the legally required standing committees of a public company’s board, he has found it essential to maintain a carefully identified technology advisory committee well versed in applied science beyond his company’s core competencies at any time to make sure those technical abilities become core competencies.

He also makes it a point to stay close to senior military leaders both formally and informally for their deep understanding of complex systems and human motivation in urgent circumstances. He has reciprocated over the years serving on key government panels and presidential commissions to help bridge the gap between private business and government, share emerging ideas, and offer his hard-won knowledge as a quiet contribution to public service.

Smith is now keenly focused on embracing the fast climb of artificial intelligence, yet another strategic inflection point both in the growth of his company and the world at large. The threat of cybersecurity has always loomed large on Smith’s short list of key concerns around systems risk, where he sees generative A.I. both exacerbating the problem and potentially forging a path to workable responses. “It will help remove the friction of international customs,” he suggests. He is also passionate about carbon capture, driving FedEx to a carbon-neutral future not just because it is the right thing to do for the environment, but because the companies that get there first will enjoy ongoing business advantages in proving models with measurable returns on investment.

The culture of FedEx remains focused on innovative practices as a competitive platform that is rooted in the company’s founding and ingrained in the necessity of proactive thought leadership. Not surprisingly, he is obsessed with teamwork and team accomplishment over individual ego and achievement. “You’re not the smartest person in the world, be humble,” he reminds us. His observations of multidisciplinary success in business, military, and government enterprises reinforce his championing of building and sustaining team dynamics.

Smith is concerned that people are now spending so much time behind video screens that their sense of reality is being distorted by inadequate forms of communication. “Thinking behind screens” does not bridge viewpoints or bring people together. He observes in social media that it creates “a place where outrage has found a business model.”

Now, about that lasting wisdom: Here’s where Smith brings down the house with his clarity of life’s lessons and unassuming purpose. Staying on the edge of technology and reinvention no matter one’s current success is more tactic than strategy for this highly accomplished individual. What is core to Smith is his embrace of mortality as a further reflection of humility. “Life is short and it ends, the clock is ticking,” he advises. “Don’t get all wrapped up in your personal self, that’s a very unhealthy thing to do.”

What is key to reminding us of our humanity in his worldview? “Maintain a sense of humor, because life in many ways is absurd, and you need to be able to laugh at yourself.” Smith clearly understands irony, has seen his share of farce, and with sporadic investments in the arts, knows a funny story when he hears one.

There you have it from one of the most successful innovators of our time: be humble, remember your mortality, and don’t lose your sense of humor. I would never have guessed that’s what I would take away from this conversation, but how delighted I am to have experienced such a treasure of actionable advice. Fred Smith understands leadership by example. Humility is evident in his journey, mortality is certainly at hand given these reflections, and if you listen at length he might just make you laugh.

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Photos: Pexels and FedEx.com

Labor Day weekend for me will always be connected to Jerry Lewis. His annual 21 ½ hour live telethon raised more than $2 billion over 45 years for the Muscular Dystrophy Association. He died last month at the age of 91. I miss him already.

Jerry meant a lot to me as a kid. I was an MDA volunteer from the age of 12. I used to help patients with mobility, assist with fundraising, and every year I would work the telethon in the local Honolulu studio. Satellite time in the 1970s was very expensive, so we didn’t get the national feed for most of the overnight hours. In those blackout periods our producers would put on a nonstop “telethon within a telethon” so we could stay on-air in synch with the east coast six hours ahead and the west coast three hours ahead. Pledges would come in all through the night. Jerry was with us in our hearts whether he was onstage in Vegas or we were broadcasting hula dancers. We did the show together no matter the separation of distance, and we loved the children at the heart of our mission.

I never met the man, but sometimes he would come on the non-broadcast feed between segments and talk to the remote volunteers, so I felt like I knew him. He would thank us for our help and tell us the telethon could not happen without us. I believe he truly loved the kids we served. He wanted to beat neuromuscular diseases in our lifetime. We haven’t done that yet, but we have come a long way. He gets credit for some of that, along with the dedicated doctors and visionary scientists whose groundbreaking work he helped fund. For a zany borscht belt comedian, that’s a long way to travel in a single visit to our planet.

Jerry took some heat for exploiting MDA patients in his depiction of their challenges. I never saw that. I saw a man devoted to curing a terrible, debilitating condition. He was a master of the stage, there is no question about that, but in the end I don’t believe the telethon was about him. It was about lending his name and global stardom to a cause that mattered. He didn’t have to do that. It was a choice. Of course it would come with some critique. He was pioneering new ground and taking creative risks that had no precedent. He might have said a few things wrong or missed the mark on occasion with a photo opportunity, but I believe he was committed to healing. He was a brave soul paving the way for a generation of viewers who learned how to turn their time into public service.

I learned a lot from Jerry and working with MDA. I learned how to work steadily through 36 hours of production from set-up to wrap. It’s hard to fathom what that meant in this age of digital media and 24-hour everything. Opportunities like that let you bond with strangers with enormous intensity that is over as quickly as it begins, yet can last a lifetime. Sometimes in the overnight hours, when I saw on the schedule board that our stage was about to go empty, I would gather some of the MDA kids and we would practice a few songs together, a Beatles tune or a Bob Dylan folk song. When the TV audience was at its smallest the producer would put us on the air. I played guitar and we would sing together in a half circle looking straight into the red light of the live camera.

The first time this happened was my first time on live TV. We were directly in front of the phone banks around 3:00 a.m. with maybe 100 people in the auditorium fighting sleepiness. I probably messed up some of the chords but the kids sang right over me. You forgot they were in wheelchairs. They were just kids singing like they were at a campfire. Afterward the kids asked me if Jerry would have been pleased with our performance. I took a chance and told them I thought he would. Today I know that for certain. They were Jerry’s Kids forever.

Jerry Lewis was an imperfect person as we all are, but he was an inspiration to me. He had no roadmap, no rule book, just a whole bunch of harebrained ideas and a ton of influence he put to work for something that mattered. He was dedicated, hard-working, wildly hard-minded about details, and a perfectionist. He gave of himself. He always made me laugh. Well, maybe not always, but most of the time. He was very funny, but of another time. I will never forget him. He was an original. Labor Day will always be his.

Jerry, dear Jerry, “You’ll Never Walk Alone.”