Buffett is right

So, you know how the old Legend of Omaha has said “It’s when the tide goes out that you find out who’s been swimming naked”?  Well, guess what…it’s Dumb Boss that might just have been caught without his duds on.

The last few weeks have been mad at work.  I returned and managed to wander about in a daze for a couple of weeks, but then got sucked into the Credit Crisis vortex, perhaps never to be seen again.  As you know, Dumb Boss is the CFO, and it seems that he hasn’t really been paying enough attention to our regulatory capital.  Whoops, it’s been invested in funds that are exposed to other institutional investors, as well as money the Company manages for others…

While the tide was up, the regulatory capital was in the black.  However, the past 3 weeks has been spent madly trying to unravell a bunch of cross-investments where we’ve mixed our own money with that which we manage for others.  Makes for an interesting legal conundrum when you have to battle with conflict of interest laws and act in the best interests of others.

So, we were busy working through the labyrinthian sets of investments, trying to make sure we protected everyone involved.  In one trust, we had the Company’s own dough, plus plenty of investor money.  Gee, what to do?  I said I could theoretically get it all out, but felt better about pulling only some out now and getting the rest later – to not do so would open us up to massive reputational risk, especially since there was a good chance we’d soon have to freeze the trust we were exiting to protect investors!

So, the CEO and head of the Business Unit agreed but I did ask the innocent question: is any of the remaining money regulatory capital?

Apparently, behind the scenes, all hell broke loose.  The CEO grabbed Dumb Boss, who hadn’t realised he had $135m in the trust, and the next thing you knew he was calling urgent meetings and sending unfortunate emails to the world, panicking about getting the Company’s assets out of the trust.

So, we had to remove it but I left it to DB and his cronies to justify it.  I gave massive warnings about the reputational risk, and sat back.  On Thursday, I updated the Board on this and their HEADS EXPLODED.  It was great.  I just told them I’d outlined the risks but the CEO and CFO made the call, so go talk to them.  The Board was reconvened the next day, after DB frantically began reinventing history by claiming not to have been warned about the risks, and quoting all sorts of so-called “pre-existing reasons” to pull the money out.  On Friday, there was another Board meeting and, as he spoke of all the reasons to get the money out, he was warned by one of the Directors that he was the CFO not only for the Company, but also this subsidiary.  This, bizarrely, was big news to Dumb Boss, who looked quizzically at me as I nodded to confirm the Director was right.

Meanwhile, 2 of DB’s peers were in the meeting and all 3 of us were exchanging looks of disbelief at DB’s massive and unrelenting stupidity.  It was great.  A true highlight.

Fingers crossed that he’ll unravel like a cheap pair of tights.

All quiet on the lunatic front?

Oh, I think not, dear reader!  Grovelling apologies for having been silent for a couple of months.  But Dumb Boss is striking at his worst!  I will need to update you in parts as to the whole sorry saga, but suffice it to say that DB and I have come to blows of late.

The story so far:  as you know, we’ve had a new CEO since April.  My initial impressions were that is a top dude who was quickly sniffing through DB’s patronising exterior to find not much substance underneath.  New CEO has been conducting a “business diagnostic”, finding all sorts of problems lying underneath the surface (I don’t think he realisted how dire the place was when he signed up!).

Meanwhile, my team and I have been overwhelmed with work (I am so very very OVER working weekends) and struggling to keep up.  DB seems to have been busy building alliances with some of the other Executive Directors (read: direct reports to the CEO), while other more seasoned execs are rolling their eyes at him and making quiet remarks to me about “some people playing the politics”.

Some of DB’s more stupid moments have included publicly criticising the old CEO – even to junior staff!  This is pretty rank at the best of times but – wait for it – the old CEO got promoted and he’s now the new CEO’s BOSS!  Apparently there was a falling out between old CEO and DB as old CEO left the building and the relationship has been frosty ever since.  In the meantime (and totally unrelated) my relationship with the old CEO has never been better as I’ve been handling something he stuffed up and making sure he and the Company’s interests are protected.

Anyhow, for some reason (don’t know what) DB has bolstered his own confidence and he is acting like King Cockroach (ie top of the pile of lunatics; convinced he will still be around even after the nuclear blast).  His confidence includes ignoring my requests for lawyers to report to me who have been hired on a 2 year project!  He doesn’t understand the need for lawyers to be independent – thinks there will be better results if I just stay in touch with them rather than their having a hard or dotted reporting line to me.  He is, of course, being influenced by a Project Manager of such evil intention that you can hear the Darth Vadar theme in the background every time he wanders away from the Death Star.  Such a schmuck.  Both of them.

Darth has even taken to saying that one of the lawyers he recently hired would make a great general counsel, and that I have no authority to decide what happens in respect of the legal team.  Nice.  All thanks to Dumb Boss.

Then – THEN – I am sitting in a meeting and the CEO announces (out of the blue) that the legal, risk and compliance teams should be located in the business.  I tried to retain my composure, and keep a straight face, all the while thinking “WHAT THE ….?”

Two days worth of phone calls later, and DB still hasn’t explained what the deal is – so I was getting more and more pissed off with DB, and finally flipped my lid at him. 

DB responds by ringing me and listing my sins: (i) I focus too much on the needs of our Boards and not enough on management; (ii) I am too risk averse and (iii) I do not respect the “chain of command” by checking with him first before I raise issues with the CEO or other Exec Directors!  Hell, I am the GENERAL COUNSEL!  Hasn’t this guy worked that out yet! 

So, then he pipes up with “If I were you, I’d be thinking about whether this job is what you want – it seems you want something more senior and a bigger role, so maybe this isn’t the role for you.  I will go into these issues further at your performance review next week…”  I read this as him saying he wants me to leave.  So, I call the former HR guy (who has since been promoted to our head office in Europe) and ask what I should do.

He says that he wouldn’t put it past DB to be deliberately seeking negative feedback about me to bolster his own view and that, if he and the old CEO were still there, this would have been clipped.  He says that his interpretation is that my role as a keeper of corporate governance is under threat, and that I should make an appointment with the CEO – BEFORE my performance review.  Why?  Because I don’t want the meeting to be about my review.  So, I make the appointment…and sweat for the rest of the weekend.

Dumb Boss asks for advice

Let me tell you how DB asks for legal advice.

He calls up a lawyer and says “I want you to give me advice that says [insert outcome here]“.

Now, that’s all good and well when he is intructing external lawyers.  They would get this all the time, and manage (or mismanage) it appropriately.  However, the Legal team at the Company reports to Dumb Boss.  AND we have to act independently in order to do our jobs properly.  It may come as a surprise, but legal advice is not “made to order” like a Big Mac.

I took DB aside a few months ago, and asked him not to give instructions like this to my staff.  It’s not appropriate, I said, they can’t feel under pressure to deliver what you want because you control their pay and bonuses.  By all means, tell us what outcome you want, and we will help you achieve it.  But don’t tell us what the advice should say.

This week, DB has been asking for some advice about what’s in a fairly important Agreement so he can put pressure on someone to do what he wants.  Unfortunately, no matter how many times you turn this Agreement over, it just can’t do what he wants.  He knows this but, despite it, he keeps asking for his “1-pager” from us telling him what he wants to hear.

What makes it worse is that he has already lied to the other side in this about the Agreement.  He thinks he is being clever; in reality, he is just being stoooopid.  And a liar.  And Dumb.  Dumb Boss.

He has now officially asked us for this advice 5 times – the most recent to my newest, hot lawyer (see mad crush story below).  So, we visited DB and he carefully explained that “Lawyers can always read things in more than one way. Why can’t you do that here?”

We’ve agreed that we’ll take one more look and, if we can’t find his answer, he will stop asking us for it.  At least he understands a deal.

Closing in on the Asshole

A few posts ago I told you about my dilemma: there’s a guy whose team sits right next to mine.  He is, by all accounts, an Asshole.  His staff hate him; his peers think he’s an idiot.  He is, in effect, the perfect example of a man who pretends his way through senior roles.  No doubt he thinks he’s incredibly competent, but it’s often only a matter of time before the facts catch up with them.

My dilemma is twofold: first of all, I am the most obvious person to take over his “portfolio” if he is fired.  Second, his staff come to me regularly raising issues about his behaviour.  There comes a point where you have to say something and can’t stay silent.  Then, once you’ve said something, there comes a time to shut up and let the situation play out.  I think I’m there right now.

There have been two new events:

1. The Asshole has hired another asshole.  He has given his senior government relations role to a guy I briefly worked with while I was contracting.  While I did all the heavy lifting, he swanned around and took all the credit.  Then I found out he was doing the same thing with everyone.  It didn’t take long before he got fired.

When his old boss found out we had hired him, she rang me straight away.  “What is the Company THINKING???” she asked.  Apparently she’s signed a Deed of Release, so she can’t possibly tell all.  However, she did indicate that there were ethical issues with the guy.  Hmmm.  What was I to do with this information?  Dammit, I had to say something.  So I told the head of our HR area about the call on a no-names basis, and suggested that our CEO discreetly call the CEO of the place the new asshole used to work.

The trick is that, this is it now.  I can’t raise another issue unless it’s a HUM DINGER.  No, really.  There’s a point at which I start to look obsesed.  I’m done, gotta sit back and hope the powers that be get it, and get it fast.

The good thing is, I’m not alone.

2. One of the Asshole’s staff came to see me last Friday.  She wasn’t sure about what to do, but needed to talk through some issues.  She has been with the Company for 10 years, and is hugely respected – she’s one of those people who just gets on with her job without any fuss.  So, anyhow, she reckons that the Asshole has a drinking problem!

Apparently, he is away from his office 70% of the time, and no-one knows where he is.  When he does turn up, usually after lunch, he smells of alcohol.  He is inconsistent and has taken to hanging around her (very attractive) assistant when she’s not there.

She said she thought she should go to the head of HR about it, and I agreed.  So she did.

This situation really can’t go on too much longer.  Our new CEO is starting in a couple of weeks.  I wonder if he will do something about it.

Eliot Spitzer: feet of clay

 I glanced up briefly from the madness of my workload recently to discover that the mighty had fallen.  Eliot Spitzer, once the Poster Boy of “Gotcha”, had been got.  It’s hard to describe how it made me feel.

As NY Attorney General, and in previous roles, he had done massive amounts of good, including helping to bring down the Gambino family in New York.  Suddenly regulators everywhere were Eliot Spitzer wannabes and the financial services industry scrambled to shore up their practices so they lived up to a new model of more transparency.  Corrupt corporates knew the heightened fear of someone as`smart and powerful as Spitzer discovering they were up to no good.  White collar criminals shuddered.  His focus was relentless, and one after the other, he ripped open institutions of unfairness and corruption.

This month, though, it’s like all of it was left behind.  Ohhhh- that photo of his wife – standing there, looking desperately alone, inexplicably trying to help him to salvage something of his world before it all, finally, collapsed.  To me, all of this says a lot about leadership.  Here’s my attempt to articulate what all this made me feel.

1. The most self-righteous among us are probably hiding the biggest secrets

Now, I’m not saying Spitzer was self-righteous.  But there sure was alot of schadenfreude washing around when his reputation hit the skids.  The situation reminded me of 1984, when I was 16.  Back then, I attended a Pentecostal church.  This was pretty controversial at the time, and many of my school friends attended the local Anglican church.  The Anglican Minister was a grey-haired man, who preached of fire and brimstone, and used the pulpit to condemn the Pentecostal church and its practitioners.  Those of us who attended were regarded as wayward children, to be brought back onto the path.  His self-righteousness knew no bounds.  Even his daughter, Pam, who I went to school with, was a caricature of “goodness”.  My overwhelming memory was that he was more than a little terrifying.

Years later, a girl I knew from those times came forward.  When she was 16, the Minister had taken advantage of her; she’d been damaged ever since.  He was removed from Ministry and brought shame to his family, and his church.  I wondered how Pam was taking it: the girl had been one of her closest friends.

When I found out, it was like it all suddenly made sense: those who criticise the most often have the most to hide.  He preached damnation on others and, while everyone else was having tea cake, he was ruining young girls for his own purposes.

I’ve seen this again and again: the biggest protestors are often the ones with the most to hide.  I try my hardest to avoid being self-righteous.  I’m not perfect, and I don’t feel like hearing “I told you so” from anyone.

2. Being ethical isn’t a part-time job

If you are 99.9% ethical, are you still an “ethical” person?  That’s like being only half pregnant.  You either are or you aren’t.  If you want to be an ethical leader, stop stealing the pens.

Apart from the damage to his family, I am saddest about Spitzer’s legacy being lost in some hotel room somewhere.  How such bad judgement can ruin a lifetime of service.  Sure, I know the guy had ambition, and was probably motivated by realising it, but let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater here.

Nonetheless, you are only as good as today’s reputation.

3.  None of this should stop you standing up for what’s right

What I’m saying isn’t about not standing up, speaking up when you need to.  If only someone had said something in 1984, that poor girl might not have been abused by the Minister.  Be brave, but be compassionate.

4. Be understanding and generous-spirited

Particularly about the shortcomings of others.  Especially if you want room one day to recover from mistakes yourself.  See the circumstances from all sides: your first take on a situation is wrong often enough to mean you should stop and think, and ask questions, before passing judgement…come to think of it, don’t pass judgement.  Just give understanding.  Make the tough calls when you need to, but avoid being the One Who Thinks They Are 100% Right.

So…

I suppose that, when all is said and done, I just feel sorry about the whole Spitzer mess.  I want leaders I can follow, and admire.  I don’t want them to have feet of clay; I want to learn from them, be inspired, and have enough of them live up to the dream to make my belief in the human spirit worth defending.

I WANT Spitzer to make a comeback.  He’s taken his medicine; his life as he knows it is gone.  I WANT us all to give him the space to pick himself up and dust himself off.  Please let the press give him the space and respect so he can try and save his marriage, so he can teach his and all our daughters that women are valued and he knows he totally messed up.  He isn’t over: God, I hope what he does next will blow us all away.

Good luck, Eliot.

(Photo credit: Mary Altaffer, The Associated Press)

When to speak up

Standing up for other people, and your integrity, are both the hardest and easiest things for me.  It’s easy because I feel I have no choice.  It’s also hard, though, because my personality type is subtle as a brick…so I feel compelled to jump onto a rooftop and scream that something is going horribly wrong, and everyone needs to listen.  I know you may find this a great shock, dear reader, but that isn’t always the most effective way.  Having an impact in a difficult situation is incredibly challenging, and I’ve seen my fair share of them.  Probably the hardest one to date was when I had to whistleblow to the Board about a CEO.  Not fun at all.

Over the last few weeks, one of those situations has been unfolding.

My team works right next to our Communications and Government team – a group of around 12 people.  Soon after I joined the Company, the Head of the Comms and Govt team arrived too – we were new kids at the same time.  I was really looking forward to him joining, because I always had a wonderful relationship with the incredibly talented Comms and Govt teams in my Old Job, and I figured there were plenty of opportunities for us to work together to really improve some of the way the Company managed its stakeholders.

Boy, was I wrong.  Within 5 minutes of meeting him, my “arsehole” radar shot straight up, especially when he announced he hated a friend of mine.  Hmmm.  He reinforced this when he passed some of my work off as his own in a meeting with the CEO – right in front of me!  Another hmmm.  With my bubbly personality, I couldn’t let that slide, and I confronted him, and asked if he always took credit for the work of others.  Silence.

Since then, we’ve had a pretty frosty relationship.  The big difference is that I am publicly supportive of his role, and keep telling people in the business that they need to engage him on comms issues.  Meanwhile, he is busy building his empire, and he keeps telling his team not to involve me in their initiatives (they have ignored him).

I stood by and watched as he quickly alienated people in his team.  Quite early on, he lost a talented comms person, who loudly proclaimed that they were leaving because of him.  Since then, 8 of his staff have turned over (in just 8 months).  A particular member of his team, Olive, is pretty vocal.  She’s famous for being passionate, and often not letting an issue go when she needs to.  However, she’s smart, diligent, and she’s been with the Company for nearly 11 years.  She’s a good soul.

Olive and the Arsehole has troubles from day 1.  She had been tossing up whether to tell the CEO or one of his Direct Reports about the issues, and ended up meeting with the head HR dude to take him through all the dramas.  Two weeks ago, the Arsehole ”restructured” her out of a job.  Now, I don’t think it was a real redundancy – it was him getting rid of someone who stood up to him.  Being Olive, she stood up for herself.  I was the first person she came to. 

As General Counsel, these situations can be sticky.  However, I knew that I wouldn’t be advising the Company on the legal issues arising from her redundancy (I was conflicted), and I made it clear that I wasn’t going to talk to her about the legality of what was being done.  I was, though, prepared to be a support for her.  To listen, and to give personal advice.

God, the whole thing felt so much like when I left my Old Job - how COULD I not have supported her?  So, I listened, and sympathised, and told her about the importance of finishing up and moving on.  But she wanted to tell some people what was happening in her area, and I understood the reasons why.  If she wanted to have her say, I advised, she needed to be calm and rational.  The more psycho she came across (no matter how much it was deserved), the less her words would mean.   Calm down, prepare what you will say, deliver your message, and leave.  Leave the listener with the feeling that you are telling them these things “more in sorrow than in anger.”

There was another dilemma: what would I do about this situation?  Soon after the Arsehole joined, I gave a warning to the HR people about him, suggesting that they keep an eye on his behaviour.  I also had a number of senior people say things to me about the Arsehole, so it was clear some people were onto him.  But now, with the situation with Olive, what would I do?  Especially since others in her team had started to talk with me about their issues.

The other challenge was that Olive had been pushing for her Government team to report to me.  While I’d love to have that area, I was concerned about the issues in my role as a leader in the Company.  I really try and avoid undermining others at all costs.  The last thing I wanted was to be seen to be speaking up to manipulate the situation.  But how could I ignore the way people were being treated, right under my nose?

So, when I found myself in the elevator with the top HR dude, I quietly dropped a bomb: “there are problems in that team”, I said, “you might want to look into them.”  And out of the lift I stepped (much like the Phantom).  I also thought I should say something to Dumb Boss (but got waylaid by the shock of my own bizarre performance review – see last post!).

Yesterday, Olive went to see the CEO.  He opened their conversation by apologising to her, and promising to look into the issue.  Yesterday afternoon, Dumb Boss rang me.  He asked me what I knew about what was going on.  I went up to see him.  “Should we be losing Olive?”  No, I said.  She’s a dedicated, smart, good worker.  We are nuts to let her leave.  But, and here’s the rub: I thought that, after everything that had happened, she would be better off getting a fresh start.  It would be best for Olive if she took the money and ran.

Dumb Boss confessed that he had been pushing for me to get the Government Team transferred to me, so I made it clear to him that, while I’d love to do it, I wasn’t after the job, and I was just about making sure they understood the issues with the Arsehole.    Apparently, news of other complaints about the Arsehole have filtered up to the CEO, who is working out that the Arsehole isn’t very good at his job.  God Bless Dumb Boss: he is still pushing for the change.  But the CEO has (wisely) decided to sit on the decision: if he moves part of the Arsehole’s team to me, he may as well fire him.

I am really proud of the Company for having this conversation.  At my Old Job, the CEO would have just let this dreadful situation continue until more lives were lost, or something gi-NOR-mormous blew up.  God, I hope something happens to sort this situation out!

At the end of the day, I’m glad I said something.  While I’ll never know what impact my speaking up had, at least I know that I can live with myself; that I wasn’t one of the people who sat in corners gossiping, but not being courageous enough to stand up for the human beings I work with.

One of my Management Team asked me last week why I felt I had to say something (I had told her about my elevator conversation with the HR dude).  Although it’s probably a little exaggerated for this context, I told her, it’s probably because the saying that most irks me most is this one:

“All it takes for evil to triumph is that good men do nothing.”

My name is Gossip

There was someone who asked me for a job once.  I told her that I would extend her existing contract, but I wouldn’t make her a permanent employee until she stopped gossiping about everyone (including me, before she and I had even met!).  She denied gossiping, and left the company a couple of months later.  I hear that, in her new job, she’s piling up enemies: her biggest gossip victim is her own boss.  She’s definitely someone for whom gossip is like an addiction. 

I was taking a look around the internet today and found this great little piece on the evil of gossip.  This reminded me of her.

Nobody’s Friend
 
My name is Gossip.
 
I have no respect for justice.
 
I maim without killing.
 
I break hearts and ruin lives.
 
I am cunning and malicious and gather strength with age.
 
The more I am quoted the more I am believed.
 
My victims are helpless. They cannot protect themselves against me because I have no name and no face.
 
To track me down is impossible. The harder you try, the more elusive I become.
 
I am nobody’s friend.
 
Once I tarnish a reputation, it is never the same.
 
I topple governments and wreck marriages.
 
I ruin careers and cause sleepless nights, heartaches and indigestion. I make innocent people cry in their pillows.
 
Even my name hisses. I am called Gossip.
 
I make headlines and headaches.
 
Before you repeat a story, ask yourself:
    Is it true?
    Is it harmless?
    Is it necessary?
    If it isn’t, don’t repeat it.
 
~ Author Unknown

(source: http://www.workplaceissues.com/qagossip.htm)

My old Job II: the horrible middle bit

I was told in September 2005 that this new guy was being given my job.  He would arrive in January of 2006.  I had four months left to be in this role I loved, to be with my team. I immediately took my title off my email signature.  Looking at it hurt too much.

They said they wanted me to stay.  When I told them I would leave, I was wheeled in to spend an hour and a half with the CEO.  Please don’t go, we love you, we’ll find you another role, they all said.  And they did try and offer me one or two, but they weren’t right.  I could have become the local General Counsel – but how could I accept a demotion when my performance had been so good?  How could I explain why I did it?  No, get the numbers ready, I said, I’ll be heading off.

While this was going on, arguably the biggest crisis in the company’s history was going on – and I was front and centre in it.  For 9 months, I not only endured the crisis, but also the knowledge that I would soon be out of a job.  I lost sleep, broke out in a rash: I knew I wouldn’t do one thing, though, and that was go out with a stress claim.  I didn’t want to be that person.

Some days, I know I lost perspective.  Occasionally (but not too much) I cried in my office.  When my team found out, they were mortified.  This was unfair, just plain wrong.

Meanwhile, there was the team.  The most wonderful group.  My management team were stellar – we worked like a well oiled machine, and kept things humming along, and the team happy.  Our staff engagement was one of the best in the company (no easy feat for a group of cynical lawyers!) and the only people who left were the ones moving to other states.

I moved out of Legal into a temporary business role in March 2006 to help clean up the last vestiges of the crisis.  We agreed that I would stick around for 6 months in commercial roles to see if a suitable alternative role came up.  In April, I received an email saying that the Legal Team were finalists in the National Law Awards for “In-house team of the Year.”  I was torn: how should I handle this?

The new General Counsel turned out to be pure evil.  The team in his old law firm all held a party on the day he left because they were so delighted to see him go.  Even our local managers in China thought he was such an asshole that they asked his old law firm partners “Is he evil or just stupid?”.  Evil, apparently.

He was particularly nasty to me, and made sure all his communication was via email.  He was all class.

Well, we won that award.  And I went up to collect it (I just told the new guy I was going to: it was my team, and for 2005, the year I led them).  The new guy didn’t even bother telling the team they’d been nominated: “We won’t win” he said.

When we, embarrassingly enough for him and for the CFO, did take out the gong, he sent out a congratulations to the team and gave them all a reward, but promptly forgot to include me in anything.  Not unpredictably, the team didn’t win the following year (I was at the awards dinner, and my heart was in my mouth the whole time).  He didn’t bother sending anyone to attend the dinner (there was silence when their nomination was read out, much to the host’s amusement and in great contrast to all other nominees) and, when the team lost, he said “Well, they were never going to give it to us 2 years running.”  Another award that night went to the same team for the third consecutive year.  Hmmm. 

The final chapter of Old Job will appear in the New Year.

When you are the subject of gossip – Part II

A reader has asked if I can do a little more on this particular topic, so it got me thinking.

I mentioned a few posts ago that I had heard that a middle manager in our company had been telling other people that I was “nasty” and had shafted members of our admin team (full story in October posts!).

I mentioned this to his manager, as his behaviour was wholly inappropriate.  He didn’t even know half the story, and was firing off defamatory remarks about me.  Now, he is in the particular habit of firing his mouth off, so most people are used to him.  However, people for some reason love gathering bad stories about other people, so I’m sure that mud always sticks.

I’d heard that some junior people in his team were friends with The Manipulator, and (even though I should have fired her months ago) got upset that she was walked out the door without as much as a sandwich…athough we did pay for her cab (damn those HR people).  I think this, plus the whole drama with the voicemail message that The Manipulator sent is how it started, and it just spiralled from there.

This is how I dealt with the whole thing (and some of my thinking behind it):

1. The day after the whole drama unfolded with the voicemail, I told the Head of our neighbouring Department what actually happened – the whole, gruesome story, including The Manipulator’s bullying and other gory details.  I had heard that a number of people in her team were gossiping about this, and figured she was my best shot at stopping it.

2. There was no point in separately talking to the people who were swept up in the gossip. 

 As a leader, this just makes you look defensive.  I often think about the really great leaders that I have worked for and ask myself what they would have done.  For the most part, they ignore it; gossip dies down pretty fast usually.  If you respond, it just keeps the whole thing going.  Plus, you look defensive.  So, as a leader, the most dignified thing to do is often not to do anything.

Of course, sometimes you have to correct the misinformation.  This is a big call, and often takes great courage.  I don’t think that this is called for all that often – with any luck, it never is.  However, if the type of rumour going around is damaging in the long term, it’s best to just put an end to speculation.  Just call a meeting, make a statement, and maybe offer to answer questions. 

The trick with this is that you really want to test how you will say things: what are your messages?  I took this approach with the DR Team the Monday after Amanda left – and for the most part it worked.  I told them there were regrettable events, and Amanda would have been very upset.  However, we were going to get on with it and, if anyone wanted to ask questions, they could come and see me.  No-one did.  They calmed down after that: sunlight can be wonderful.

It is, though, very difficult to know when addressing gossip head on will work – or whether you just look weak and vulnerable or, worse, fuel the fire.  It’s a matter of judgement – I find talking to people whose judgement I trust really helps me to formulate my message and I feel more prepared when I do it.

Of course, sometimes the gossip is warranted, and true.  Sometimes it does tell you what you might be doing wrong with other people or your team.  Sometimes it might mean you have to apologise.

However, for the most part, ignore gossip.  Get on with it.  There’s too much work to do to spend your time looking over your shoulder.

Careless Talk…

Here’s a poster from WWII that really makes me think.  Actually, it makes me gulp in just a little bit of terror.

Gossip and overtalking is so tempting sometimes.  Usually, the less you say, the better. 

I’ve been involved in a number of corporate disasters (or at least near-misses…no, they weren’t my fault; as a lawyer, I am usually hoovering up the mess).  One time, I worked closely with an exceptionally good lobbyist, whose advice related back to this poster, which she kept above her desk.  She was worried that this particular corporate disaster had blown so far out of the water that everyone was beng inspired to burst into print at the slightest provokation – all creating interesting fodder for the government, regulators or litigants to gather up when they launched their attacks on us.

The poster itself is from 1944 and was part of a larger campaign to encourage those in military service to keep their mouths shut, and watch what they said in writing.  The saying “Loose lips sink ships” is a paraphrase of other posters in the same campaign.  I love this poster particularly, because it creates such a vivid image of the impact of careless talk – you can almost feel it as it rushes past you on its way across the English Channel and into the hands of the enemy. 

I wonder today if we have lost the art of staying silent?  Of keeping our opinions to ourselves, or at least not putting them into some kind of permanent form?  Particularly with the availability of so many forms of communication, from emails to blogs, from cell phones to voicemail messages!  Every adult in the Western World must have hundreds of thousands – maybe millions – of words – most of them probably harmless, but many probably careless – floating around in cyberspace or locked into back-up copies.  Ready to be brought out into the public, or used to trap them or someone else.

Words are interesting.  You control them only up to the point at which you speak – after that, they’re anyone’s.  Two weeks ago, someone at work told me that the senior manager of Risk (of all people!) had been telling others that I am “nasty” – and he cited the incident with my crazy admin team (see prior blog entries for the unfolding drama!).

First, this guy didn’t know what he was talking about.  He let himself listen to the careless talk of others, and wasn’t wise enough to recognise he didn’t have all the facts.  You would think someone as senior as him would know there are always two sides to every story – but apparently not!

Second, even if every word of what he’d heard was true, he had no wisdom to keep his mouth shut.

I have spent the last couple of weeks thinking about what to do.  Yesterday, I told his boss what he’d said.  She lamented to me that she didn’t know what to do with him: he shot his mouth off all the time, and it was like an addiction. He couldn’t stop, and he wouldn’t admit there was a problem.

We truly have become more and more careless.  Words are cheap.  They seem like they’re everywhere. 

[Credit image http://hobnobblog.com/art/]