anything else. I considered his point and replied that the faith on which I rely is an individual’s essential belief in and acknowledgement of God. However, it was my firm belief that individuals’ expressions of their faith had helped and saved (and continue to help and save) many times more lives than were hurt and lost in conflicts that were wrongly described as motivated by faith. We ended up not agreeing.
It is my firm belief that successful managers need to have faith. Faith is the first necessary ingredient for this journey we all must take.
That faith is in the soul of the successful manager and it is that manager’s own personal light. That light illuminates the manager’s authentic self. It is “. . . this precious treasure – this light and power that now shine within us . . .” (2 Corinthians 4:7). It guides the manager throughout the workday, during interactions and in decision making. It is the light in the open door that makes colleagues comfortable to come in and talk. It is the light of the manager’s credibility. It is the light of conscience. It is the essence of the manager’s spirit and humanity. While it may seem easy to put a cover over it, it takes an awful lot of effort to extinguish that light.
Think about people who give deathbed confessions and ask for forgiveness at their final hour. It would seem that at that point in a life, a confession wouldn’t mean much to the confessor, after all he or she is checking out, right? I guess they do it because they want to check out with the light on, not off.
For some people, that light is visible with the human eye. Some thirty-five years ago, I had the privilege of meeting Mother Theresa at a church in the South Bronx – me and 300 other privileged people. She came to speak at the opening of one of her missions in New York City. Sitting in a pew in the back of the church, I stared at this tiny, short figure of a person dressed in white standing in front of the altar, surrounded by dozens of taller, bigger figures. Mother Theresa, however, was the only figure that was shining. Yes she was glowing, literally. It wasn’t because there was a spotlight on her: this was a poor and simple church in a devastated neighborhood, it didn’t have any spotlights. And at that time, unlike now, my vision was certified 20/20. Was I imagining this singular glow? My wife nudged me and asked, “Do you see it?” “The glow around Mother Theresa?” I asked in reply. “Yeah, that glow,” she responded. We both turned to our friend who had accompanied us. Even though there were tears streaming down our friend’s face, she could see it too. It was a powerful light, even more so when Mother Theresa insisted upon greeting and blessing each person present that day, as we filed out the door one at a time. Face to face, with Mother Theresa grasping my hand and saying, “God bless you,” the light from her was dazzling.
Listen to this one finding:
“. . . ‘A Spiritual Audit of Corporate America,’ published in October (1999) by Jossey-Bass, found that employees who work for organizations they consider to be spiritual are less fearful, less likely to compromise their values, and more able to throw themselves into their jobs.”
Isn’t that the organization you want to build and represent? Isn’t that the employee and manager you want to be?
This essential faith requires us as managers to believe in and demonstrate compassion for one another. I remind myself daily to practice compassion and to be a compassionate example, especially for my colleagues and my children. I admit to lapses in this regard but I catch myself quickly because I realize that my faith cannot be real without compassion as its expression.
The Logic of Compassion
There are times when I have been in disagreement or angry with a colleague or friend and I have found myself steaming inside to “get back” at that person! I admit it, I’m not perfect and I bet you’ve had similar thoughts in these situations as well. But I let those thoughts evaporate as I cool off that steam and my faith counters by listening to the logic of compassion.
This logical compassion isn’t about inaction or surrender – it’s about compassionate action that is motivated by my self respect. Instead of telling myself to “not sink to someone else’s level,” I am aware that I don’t want to sink below my own standards and values. I make that choice, comparing the expression of me to my authentic self. Logical compassion requires that I respect myself; acknowledge and utilize the ambiguities of each situation; look long term at the consequences of my responses; and show respect for the person with whom I’m in disagreement. Have anger, false pride, some other issue, or inattention prevented me from listening to the other person and responding, with an open heart?
These considerations don’t mean that sometimes my response won’t be seen by the other person as negative and unwanted. Being faithful to myself and to what I believe, I use my leadership tools guided by logical compassion to respond appropriately, including with an honest criticism, a redress, a discipline or a termination. These responses are done with openness, fairness, honesty and respect.
The Light Shines Through
A number of times in my work life I’ve had to terminate the employment of colleagues, almost always in one on one situations, not mass layoffs. In a number of these situations, some time later I’ve come across these individuals again and they’ve told me two things.
1.Thank you for the respectful way in which you treated me during a difficult time.
2.Being fired turned out to be a blessing in disguise; I just couldn’t see that at the time.
Surprising? It still is to me but it’s true. It really isn’t about what you need to do (unless you will be violating your own humanity) as much as it is about how you are motivated to do it. When you take your lead from within yourself, from the light of your faith, even the most difficult management decisions will be morally clear and practically sound.
Four times so far in my life I’ve been directed to end the employment of colleagues who had become my personal friends. I will tell you upfront that all remained my personal friends. My experience with one in particular, Wayne, is an abiding lesson for me.
Wayne and I became instant friends during my first two months in a new company. Wayne led one of the company’s expanding product areas and I was the human resource leader. We met at a staff meeting and I was taken by Wayne’s natural charm and his openness. Wayne hailed from Texas and his smooth, considered style of speech told me he was a proud son of that great state. If you met him, you’d like him – he just had a naturally likable personality. When he and I struck up a conversation, I realized there was a lot more to him than just charm. His insight about the people with whom he worked was on target. He was grounded securely in a set of personal values that respected each person as an individual and an equal.
At the heart of his values was his commitment as a born again Christian. He didn’t announce it or flaunt it, he lived it. At a point in our relationship when we talked about faith, Wayne said simply, “I’m a Christian, born again and that’s how I live my life.”
Soon after we met, I began asking Wayne to keep his eyes and ears open for specific issues in the various company offices to which he traveled regularly. I knew that not only would he be able to hear what was on folks’ minds in the company, but he was also trusted by every one of our colleagues.
For three years Wayne served the company, giving all of his efforts to try to right-size a problem product. Further complicating his work was a convoluted profit and loss system that hid inefficiencies and shifted losses so that some products looked to be better performers than they really were at the expense of other products’ performance. I watched Wayne work through these roadblocks. He never lost his self respect, his faith or his compassion. It would have been easy, almost understandable, if he had blamed others for the problems he encountered and the battles he had to fight. He didn’t.
At the end of his tenure, Wayne’s managers decided he wasn’t the person they wanted to continue leading the product. They wanted a different approach. I was directed to relieve Wayne of his command, with the help of the chief operating officer. Wayne was traveling to my office for a meeting and I discussed with the COO how we would break the news of his firing to Wayne.