“Let’s all assume good intent,” words managers in cubicles across the world, and I myself, have uttered many times. There’s an implied tone of being cordial; open minded.
Yet here I am, saying let’s all just drop the “good intent” talk once and for all.
So what gives? We’re supposed to be callous, suspicious managers, on constant lookout for the next shortcomings of our teammates?
You have reason to be wary. Like you, I see the opposite of the “good intent” as “poor intent.” And if I thought I was reading an article on suspicion-based leadership, I’d close that browser window faster than a Cyber Monday pop up ad.
But what if there’s a third option?
Before we explore that path, let’s get vulnerable…
Physical capability and my pride in it are part of my very DNA. In my 40 years on this earth I have never asked a stranger for help with a physical task.
Also, I only have one hand. The entire planet is built for humans who are batting 1.000 in the appendage category and I’m coming in just shy, right at .750. Not a bad batting average if you're Sammy Sosa, not stellar if you want to be a saxophonist (which I once hoped to be, but that's a story for another time)
One of the practical ways this affects my life is eating dinner in a strange city. As a former 3-time collegiate MVP, you might be able to imagine the reality that I can’t use a pepper grinder in a public restaurant is a hard pill to swallow. A very hard, very bland pill.
Last week I was in a new city, the city of brotherly love, the city of incredible food, the city of impossibly inaccessible pepper grinders, Philadelphia.
A local waitress sold me on Philly Cheesesteak poutine fries; steak, gravy, cheese curds, oh my. Y'all. My persnickety gallbladder and I fell hard and fast for these fries.
But… they needed pepper. Not only that, but the salt was in a grinder. And they needed salt too!
I’ve been working on this hard stuff. What does it mean to be vulnerable, to ask for help? What does it say about me as a human being if I don’t have the physical capability to pepper my own cheesesteak in public? (Gasp!)
It doesn’t mean anything, right? My value, skills, experience, attributes and heart don’t change based on someone’s perception of me.
Right? (*nervous laughter)
For the first time in *40 years* you guys, I was embracing a different path from pepper grinder purgatory. This was a big, no, a HUGE, moment.
My heart was beating out of my chest. I hated the feeling of helplessness. I worked up the courage. I took a breath. I discreetly asked the waitress if she could please help me use the salt and pepper grinders. She glanced at me and said she’d be right back. I thought perhaps she would need to empty the dishes from her hands. Makes sense, tasks like this take dexterity. (I should know) Several minutes went by.
6 minutes later she returned, with a NEW SET of salt and pepper grinders!!!? She sort of glanced and stuttered, “these should work” dropping them on the table and walking away.
Wait, what!? I need the contents lady! THE ACTUAL CONTENTS!
Now I’ve got FOUR grinders staring at me, naked fries and the cold naked truth that the satisfaction of my taste buds will always be helplessly outsourced to the hospitality industry. Annnnnd this is why vulnerability and French fries in a strange land are so hard.
I shared this story with some friends and MY GOSH were they frustrated. Their emotions ranged from disbelief and sadness to judgement and even rage. How DARE she not help me?
Nothing solves real-life issues like fancy internet quotes, so this feels like a good time to smack our traditional management mantra: “assume good intent” onto this issue.
I asked my friend, what if we gave the waitress the benefit of the doubt? Could we assume she was tired, embarrassed, busy, or distracted to create a more palatable narrative of the outcome? (pun intended) If we're being cynical, we might assume she was cruel, incapable, short-sighted or lazy?
Here's where I landed: what if I said her intent doesn’t matter to me? At all. The third option is that we focus on goals and the steps to achieve them, and not let our own emotion-based interpretations of experiences override the indisputable facts.
Look, no doubt, this is a complicated analogy because the goal here is "squishy." It’s easy to assume the goal is a fine dusting of cracked pepper. That’s the easy answer. I want that to be the answer too.
But the goal was about me embracing vulnerability and acceptance of who I am, not because of or in spite of my physical ability, but regardless of my ability. After 40 years, I asked for help. What was mine to own? Do I get to control how a waitress feels about me and does her perception matter? No amount of salt or pepper or help or not help or empathy or oblivion changes the stuff that is mine to own. As for me and my part, we soared.
What in the world does this have to do with management? I’m so glad you asked.
As managers we own so many things; performance, vision, culture, etc. If I prioritize servant leadership and innovation, I own that, not because of or in spite of external factors. I embody the goals, the process and the outcomes that relate to servant leadership and innovation, regardless of the intent or interpretation of others.
Let’s say Tom is my employee. His job is to increase customer retention via various meetings, emails and phone calls, then record his touch points in our company database. Tom is well-liked by customers but not skilled at data entry and reporting. How do I make a process to address this?
1. Goal: Tom submits accurate and timely reporting by noon every Friday.
2. Clarity: Open communication with Tom.
“We value your exceptional contributions with customers Tom. It’s clear they appreciate your attentiveness and warmth. Your weekly data reports contribute to year over year reporting and forecasting in an important way for the organization. This reporting deadline is an important expectation for our team success. What hurdles can I address that are keeping you from submitting your weekly data reports on time?”
3. Outcomes. Tom doesn’t meet the reporting deadline three of the four Fridays of the month.
If we “assume good intent” we say, “Tom is trying really hard. Customers do seem to like him. Also, I know he’s been busy planning the regional conference and that’s probably contributing to his neglect of deadlines.”
That might be true. But it’s also true that my projection and interpretation make me a notoriously unreliable source. (German philosopher Immanuel Kant brilliantly outlines the Categorical Imperative vs Hypothetical Imperative, saving us all the time and energy of debating our unreliability, let’s agree he’s right and move on) I want to like Tom and believe in Tom! What if we knew Tom was coming in late because he simply liked to sleep in, if he neglected Friday data deadlines because he didn’t find reporting very rewarding and his lack of contribution on the regional conference team was minimal and causing undo burden for the other members of the conference committee? Assuming any intent to Tom (whether positive or negative) is short sighted and makes us blind to decisions that align with our goals.
My goal is to be an empathetic, visionary, servant leader. Tom’s intent is not connected to what I own, no more than the waitress was connected to my worth as a person. It's the process of removing another's intent entirely that allows us to truly nurture our authentic leadership presence. My optimal course it so use data to guide my decision making regarding Tom’s performance.
If we’ve established clear goals and had open communication regarding Tom’s ability to meet those goals, there are only three possible outcomes:
1. Tom is capable of meeting the deadlines but is choosing not to.
2. Tom may be capable of meeting the deadlines, but we need to circle back to the communication step to better understand his skills or resource gaps that are keeping him from meeting the goals (does he needs more time or training?)
3. Tom may not be capable of meeting the deadlines. His skills may align with only portions of his job. I can continue with performance management in his role, a termination of his role, or a reassessment of our goals for Tom and his role.
Love and servant leadership do not have an inverse relationship with data-based decision making, rather they work in tandem. Performance subjectivity need not play a role in being a productive, empathetic leader. I am at my best as a leader and human being when I am clear about what I own and don’t project my “stuff” onto people, good, bad or otherwise.
If I can love myself enough to accept pepper grinder support, I can love my people enough to give them fair, clear processes for success that aren’t at the mercy of my very human, unreliable interpretation of the world.