On Negative Results in Leadership Experiments | By Amy Delamaide

Image via Horia Varlan

How often do we talk about the leadership experiments we try that don’t work? Rarely? Often? Never? Sometimes?

I experimented earlier this year with a different kind of facilitation. I did it so the group I was working with could learn the differences between role and self. I played a role in the front of the room quite dissimilar to what I would normally do. Instead of calling the room to order loudly, I waited quietly at the front, making eye contact and smiling to get attention. It took the room more than 10 minutes to quiet down and be ready to begin. Once I started asking questions, I decided not to be the one to acknowledge when people could talk by looking at them and nodding. Instead I sat in a chair, avoided eye contact, and did not acknowledge raised hands. When someone started talking who had already contributed many times, I quickly interrupted and asked for others to give input. The things I was doing at the front of the room were really, really different from what I’ve learned is “good” facilitating and from what I normally do. But I was trying some things out, for what I thought were good reasons.

It did not go over with everyone very well. Some people’s feelings got hurt. I got specific and negative feedback on the session evaluation forms. I found it hard to get to sleep for a few nights because I was replaying events in my mind and thinking about what I would have done differently.

Through the winding ways of the internet, the following paragraph ended up on my Tumblr dashboard last week, from an article by Adam Ruben, and it connects to this question of how often we discuss experiments that don’t work:

Last month, I learned about a publication that has been quickly gaining popularity, the Journal of Negative Results in BioMedicine (JNRBM). Published, presumably, by a gang of dour curmudgeons who hate everything, JNRBM openly welcomes the data that other journals won’t touch because it doesn’t fit the unspoken rule that all articles must end on a cheery note of promise. …You might imagine that JNRBM is a place where losers gather to celebrate their failures, kind of like Best Buy or Division III football. But JNRBM meets two important needs in science reporting: the need to combat the positive spin known as publication bias and the need to make other scientists feel better about themselves.

In the world of leadership development, do we have a bias towards talking about experiments that worked? What can we do to cultivate an environment where efforts to try something new that don’t go so well can be discussed, reviewed, learned from?

In my case, support from my colleagues and conversation about how I could have better communicated my intentions and how they could have drawn out more learning from my interactions with the group helped me learn from my failed experiment.

What experiments have you tried that didn’t work? What factors need to be in place for you to feel free sharing your negative results?

Youth as Leaders of Today--Not Just Tomorrow | By Dr. Tara Gregory

“Youth are the leaders of tomorrow!”  How many times have we heard--or possibly said--this as adults who are interested in promoting civic engagement and public responsibility in those who are younger?

Photo courtesy of KCYV

I understand that it’s typically meant as encouragement and is said with great hopefulness. But I always bristle when I hear this because my many years of experience working with young people (high school students, primarily) assures me that seeing youth only as leaders of the future sells them egregiously short. They’re doing incredible things today and every day that reflect exceptional passion, skill and commitment. From groups such as the Kansas Consortium for Youth Voice in Lawrence to the Mayor’s Youth Council in Wichita, there are a huge number of youth-led groups who understand that leadership isn’t a position but something that anyone can do at anytime. And there are many individual youth who stand up and do what they think is right to make life better for others. They organize charitable activities for those in need, write books about their own challenging experiences, and do many other acts of leadership and selflessness. 

I want to make a clear distinction between youth involvement as volunteers and youth-led civic engagement. There are a lot of opportunities and encouragement for youth to get involved in projects that are designed to better the community. But these opportunities are frequently created and supervised by adults with little youth input or involvement in defining the issue or determining the response. There’s nothing wrong with opportunities for youth to be involved as volunteers just as it’s an important option for adults to give back to their communities. But true growth and engagement comes from the autonomy to define and determine the focus and direction of civic engagement. Truly youth-led projects, in which adults take a back seat and typically provide support but very little supervision or authority, are relatively rare – primarily because we adults have trouble getting out of the way and trusting youth to do good things. But I’ve seen time and time again, even when I’ve had my own secret doubts, that youth will come through and do stunningly selfless and effective acts of leadership when given the space. I’ve never been disappointed when I’ve let go of my hard-earned “right” as an adult to talk constantly, have all the answers, do the “important” tasks, and generally be in charge. 

One specific experience I had was when I provided support to a group of high school students who decided to put on a day-long workshop for middle school students. The high school youth determined the focus (training the middle schoolers on how to take action to prevent substance abuse within their own schools), designed and presented all of the sessions, and worked individually with teams from each middle school to help them develop an action plan to enhance their school. On the day of the workshop, I overslept. I was panicked at what was probably happening because I wasn’t there to provide assistance where necessary. When I got to the workshop location about 30 minutes before the start of the event, everything was ready to go and, in addition to teasing me mercilessly about being late, the high school youth jabbed me a bit about not trusting them to have things under control. It was a lesson to me about the “adultist” attitudes I still held, even though I loved and trusted this group of youth tremendously. It was also a reminder about how much more meaningful the accomplishment was to the youth when they did it all themselves. I’ve never forgotten this day because it was a great example of what I still needed to learn and also because of how incredibly proud I was to have the honor to be associated with these exceptional young people. These youth are now adults with kids of their own. I hope they remember this day and the pride they felt as vividly as I do.

Photo courtesy of KCYV

I’ve also recently had the opportunity to use the Kansas Leadership Center concepts and principles with the Kansas Consortium for Youth Voice, a youth-led group whose mission is to empower youth voice to generate action and positive change in their communities. While I know from my own experience that these concepts are frequently challenging for adults to integrate, it seemed that the youth immediately got it. They worked through faction mapping, identifying values, and a number of other exercises that challenged them to diagnose the situation (i.e., adult resistance to youth voice), manage themselves, energize others, and intervene skillfully. There was no question of them being too young or inexperienced to understand or utilize these tools. And I know they’ve taken this information and immense skill forward in their work. Again, I hope they recognize the value and uniqueness of what they’re contributing to their community.

Youth are people who have a stake in our communities and who have valuable knowledge and skills to contribute right now. We sell youth short when we think of them as biding time until they’re old enough to be community leaders – and consequently we cheat our communities out of valuable expertise, passion and energy. Just as all adults have various experience and areas of expertise, so do youth. Just because their experiences and areas of expertise are different from ours, doesn’t mean they aren’t as valuable and interested in creating better communities if we’re willing to treat them as partners. I encourage all adults to avoid the “leaders of the future” comment. If we as adults make space for youth to contribute to civic leadership, we are all equals in creating a better Kansas.

Photos courtesy of Kansas Consortium for Youth Voice, from the leadership/service learning workshop they held for Iraqi and Central European youth through the International Visitors Council of Greater Kansas City.

Listening as Ministry | By Seth Bate

Kansas Windfarm by Eye of the Storm Photography

I read Lael’s post on the heels of reading The Missional Leader, by Alan Roxburgh and Fred Romanuk, which views storytelling as a leadership skill. The authors propose--and I’m inclined to agree--that people must be able to articulate their own narrative but also the narrative of the community around them.

Listening to and then telling the story of the community may be the hard work, but it is critical. People and communities who cannot name the way their worlds are changing have less power with which to engage, understand or confront the change. The authors suggest that those who cannot name the deeper sources of their anxiety focus on the symbols of the change rather than what’s beneath those symbols. An example in the book is Christian parents who focus on getting Harry Potter books out of a school library when they are really worried about a much broader question: how “do we form a cohesive community of identity and belonging that shapes our children within the narrative of Christian life?” Deep attentiveness may be a way to draw out and shape these stories.

For Christians, there is also much to be learned from viewing our stories and the stories of our community through the story of Scripture. The Missional Leader makes this sound like the most natural thing in the world. After all, the Bible takes great pains to describe the ordinariness of the people chosen to God’s work.

I see this attentiveness modeled in the life of Jesus, who began with the lived experience of the people he encountered. He started where they were. As The Missional Leader puts it, “he enters those experiences weaving God’s story through their lived stories.”

After reading Lael’s post and this book, it seems to me that storytelling (and listening) may be an act of peer support. It may be an act of leadership. And it may be an act of ministry.

If you would like to explore the impact of missional leadership on your faith-based organization, join us for a free Compassion Kansas workshop  "The Missional Faith-Based Organization" on September 20, 2011. Call 316-978-3843 to register.

Authority, leadership and the Little Napoleon | By Seth Bate

John McGraw and Christy Mathewson, New York Giants, 1911 World Series

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Photo courtesy of Boston Public Library 

John McGraw was the umpire-shredding manager of the New York Giants from 1902 to 1932. I recently read a biography of him; to my surprise, he has been on my mind as I have taught, discussed and tried to practice leadership in the last few weeks.

At the WSU Center for Community Support & Research and the Kansas Leadership Center, we define leadership as the activity of mobilizing people to do difficult work on complex issues. We think of authority as a position—such as manager of a baseball team—and we believe that people who hold authority are expected to provide protection, order and direction. Authority is sometimes useful in exercising leadership, but it is not the same as leadership.

John McGraw had and used authority. The press dubbed him (somewhat redundantly, as his biographer Charles Alexander points out) the Little Napoleon for his strategic prowess and bellicose manner on the field.  He often called every pitch and play in a game. One of McGraw’s innovations was to teach players sign language so when they missed a conventional sign from him, he had a second way to give instructions.

In a spring training interview, McGraw once explained that he told his players to execute what he told them, and if something went wrong, he would take the heat. It seems to me that this is what many of us look to in our authorities; tell us what to do, and shoulder the risk for us.

In baseball, relying solely on authority can be enormously effective. It worked for McGraw. He is second on the all-time list of wins for major league managers. There is some evidence, however, that there was an issue McGraw cared about for which authority was insufficient to make progress.

In the Ken Burns documentary Baseball, it’s said that when McGraw died, a list of African-American players he wanted to recruit into the segregated major leagues was found in his papers. I’m speculating, of course, but one interpretation is that McGraw couldn’t do more than make a wish list because he only knew how to use authority. To tackle a daunting civic issue like integrating baseball he would have needed to use leadership competencies.

The Little Napoleon’s baseball record makes me think he had some capacity to intervene. He demonstrated some elements of the KLC Competencies for Civic Leadership

• Hold relentlessly to purpose. McGraw doggedly pursued winning. On the field, every close play at the plate was worth a profane argument with an ump. Off the field, every political maneuver at the league level was suspect and could result in a blistering letter. What if he had recognized that the pool of black players could serve his purpose of winning and pursued that as fiercely?

• Give the work back. It might seem uncharacteristic, but McGraw had a soft spot for players who had washed out of the majors because of their drinking or womanizing habits. In a few instances, McGraw gave second and even third chances. Still, he didn’t take on responsibility for the player’s rehabilitation; he provided the space to play, but the work of getting back into playing form was the player’s. What if he took the same approach to a few pioneering minority players and created a level playing field on which they could succeed or fail?

• Act experimentally. McGraw was one of the innovators of “scientific baseball,” a style based on smart baserunning and small tactical advantages. He disparaged the new offensive style of baseball that came into vogue in the 1920s with Babe Ruth. In his final years, though, he risked ridicule and began actively recruiting sluggers, even landing the great Rogers Hornsby for a short time. If McGraw didn’t completely abandon his position, he at least experimented with another approach. What if McGraw had risked even wider ridicule and recruited African-American players?

Cardinals manager Tony LaRussa—who has a bit of Little Napoleon in him—is on pace to pass McGraw on the all-time wins list in 2012. When that happens, I hope McGraw gets his due. He was a fascinating character and a brilliant manager — and his story might still have something to teach us about the authority and leadership. 

This article was also posted on the Kansas Leadership Center blog, a great resource for reflections on leadership and information about KLC programs.

Assessing Impacts, Discovering Values | By Lael Ewy

A problem-solving tool we teach in the Certified Peer Specialist 5-Day Basic Training involves, among other things, looking how a person is negatively impacting his own problem, asking how one’s actions or beliefs may be exacerbating that problem or preventing it from being solved. This is an aspect of problem-solving we tend to shy away from or ignore. 

I suspect that’s because doing so brings us into contact with all sorts of things we don’t want to hear. Brainstorming practical solutions makes us feel effective; looking at our own role in causing a problem can make us feel uncomfortable. Coming up with solutions might change the way we act in the short term, until the immediate effects of the problem seem to be alleviated. But examining how we’re contributing to a problem may force us to change who we are and what we believe—and that has implications for the long term. 

Indeed, fostering long-term solutions is exactly why we examine what we are doing to create and perpetuate problems. How many “solutions” have been implemented, their effects measured, and congratulations extended to those involved, only to have the effects reversed by a new set of problems or another bout of the same old thing? We see examples of this everywhere, from weight loss programs that fail to address our basic attitudes about exercise and food to military “victories” that precede the chaos of a failed state. To admit to how we are negatively impacting a problem is to admit that we are flawed. But to do so is also to take responsibility for a problem, or at least for that part of the problem that is under our control. 

For individuals, this might mean measuring our espoused values against the beliefs we express through our actions: I may agree that the local coffee shop wastes an appalling number of paper cups, but my own vanity may prevent me from bringing my battered travel mug in for a refill. 

For an organization, taking stock of what it’s doing that contributes to a problem could force an accounting of institutional values for the first time—and that might reveal how incoherent or contradictory those values really are. For instance (and to keep a theme alive), the desire to stock the office break room with pricey fair trade coffee might go against the value of keeping operating costs low. 

But this also reveals the power of reviewing our own negative impacts: the organization might decide that the value of doing right by the grower of the coffee beans outweighs the value of cost-effectiveness in this case. Confronted with the values underlying the impacts, a person or organization is empowered to act intentionally.  And sometimes, through reviewing how we negatively impact a problem, we may realize that it’s not actually a problem, and that the proper solution is no action at all.  

The Cave of Evil: How Star Wars is like Case-in-Point | By Seth Bate

Increasingly, the CCSR Leadership Initiatives team and the Kansas Leadership Center faculty team use a teaching approach called “Case-in-Point.” It was developed by Ron Heifetz and Marty Linsky but I’m guessing it doesn’t always resemble exactly what they had in mind.

As Chris Green, project director of case studies describes it, Case-in-Point rests on a simple yet provocative idea: “Leadership, although difficult to teach, can be learned in a dynamic classroom setting when participants experience, in the moment, some of the very conditions that make exercising leadership so challenging and dangerous in the public sphere.” Chris wrote a brief guide for participants; I’d like to explore what Case-in-Point requires from the front of the room.

Preparing to walk in front of a roomful of people for a Case-in-Point conversation reminds me of the scene in the movie, The Empire Strikes Back in which Jedi Master Yoda instructs his trainee, Luke Skywalker, that it is time for Luke to enter a dark and scary place. True Star Wars geeks know that, in later books, this spot earned the name, “The Cave of Evil.”

Luke asks, “What’s in there?” “Only what you take with you,” Yoda replies.

On my best days, the Case-in-Point discussions I introduce create space for many ideas, observations and interpretations to enter the room. Some of them I start; many I hear and challenge; and others I just listen to. I follow Yoda’s advice to “keep your concentration here and now where it belongs.” I fulfill my role, which calls for me to be curious, unrattled and sometimes challenging, even in long moments of silent ambiguity.

If you know Empire, however, you know that Luke’s trip into the Cave of Evil was a terrifying failure. He grabs a blaster and a light saber. “Your weapons, you will not need them,” Yoda warns. Luke ignores him. He ends up blindly striking at the ominous figure he finds inside, using the weapons he has come to rely on.

Some days I give in to the ambiguity. I take the group’s discomfort personally. My selfish need to fulfill expectations gets in the way of my role.

Those days, my Case-in-Point relies on a utility belt full of gimmicks. I look for moments when I can soundly make a point, perhaps earning some respect for my expertise or reassuring the group that they are getting something out of our interaction. I rely on my weapons instead of trusting in the participants, the approach and the process.

Leadership development and Jedi training require more effectively managing self. This includes distinguishing your role from your self. Doing this may prove most difficult when fulfilling your role may scare you and the people around you.

“Decide you must,” Yoda said, “how to serve them best.”

One resource for learning more about Case-in-Point teaching and other approaches to leadership development is Leadership Can Be Taught by Sharon Daloz Parks.


This article was also posted today on the Kansas Leadership Center blog.

Sustainability in Succession Planning

 "The Oracle of Omaha, Warren Buffett, said in a 2007 letter to shareholders that he has long had three internal candidates to succeed him as chief executive of Berkshire Hathaway, and had identified four potential candidates for the investment side of his job.

Last year, the company announced that it had hired Todd Anthony Combs, a young former hedge fund manager who may turn out to be the heir apparent on the investment side of the business.

Buffett, now 80, announced details of his succession plan in his typical folksy style, writing in the 2007 letter to shareholders: “I’ve reluctantly discarded the notion of my continuing to manage the portfolio after my death — abandoning my hope to give new meaning to the term ‘thinking outside the box.' - Going somewhere? Some CEO exit strategies"

Most of us can appreciate an investor with a sense of humor… or perhaps not.

This quote does elevate a major concern for organizations as baby boomers reach an age of transition from work as they have known it to the next stage of their lives.

CCSR is doing a bit of thinking “outside the box” in response to the “silver tsunami” among nonprofit and governmental founders and executives.  We are reframing our strategic planning emphasis to introduce the idea of sustainability in a framework of succession planning and executive transition support.  

What does that look like?

To start with, WSU CCSR is conducting a study of current nonprofit leadership demographics and transition service needs among Kansas nonprofits.  The study will employ electronic surveys, key informant interviews and focus groups sessions.  This study will be conducted to better understand transition related trends in Kansas, to understand the extent of succession planning needs among nonprofits, and to determine the types of specific supports required to respond to trends.

Based on what we learn we plan to offer regional “cohort” workshops for agreed upon nonprofits which may include funders (of this proposal) and their grantees about succession planning in general and emergency back-up plan and policy development specifically.  Following cohort sessions, CCSR and TransitionGuides will offer follow-up assistance, where appropriate and requested, to individual nonprofits that are interested in follow-up assistance.

State of the Solutions | Seth Bate

I admit to only half-listening to the coverage leading up to and following the State of the Union address on January 28, 2010. It’s just a speech, right?

Even so, a quote from Kentucky Senator Mitch McConnell got my attention when I heard it on the radio – enough so that I went to his website to find it in an official press release.

“Americans aren’t happy with the administration’s approach,” McConnell said. “They want a step-by-step approach to our problems, not grand government experiments and schemes.”

What I heard was, “Americans want technical solutions, not adaptive responses.” And I have to agree with the Senator. That’s exactly what we want. Unfortunately, it’s not what the situation requires.

Over the last few years I have learned and in turn taught about the difference between technical and adaptive challenges. My first exposure was an article written by Ron Heifetz that a colleague shared with me, and it’s a concept that is central to the work of our partners at The Kansas Leadership Center.

McConnell’s statement points at a key distinction between the two kinds of challenges.

Technical challenges may be difficult and complicated, but they can be tackled with expertise that currently exists. If you get the right combination of brains, resources and influence, there may well be a step-by-step approach to these kinds of problems. Finding that approach is reassuring; if the administration could find it, Americans would likely be happier.

Adaptive challenges are also difficult and complicated, not to mention persistent. And there is no single entity with enough brains, resources or influence to fix them. As we’re reminded in the evolving Kansas Leadership Center Field Guide, these challenges “require learning to understand what is going on. The solutions also require learning to develop new tools, methodologies and practices.”

Job creation, health care and energy ― among other topics in the president’s speech and the Republican response – are adaptive challenges.

The only way to move forward on these enormous issues is to experiment, because no one yet knows what the answers are. Of course, we may disagree on the choice and scope of the experiments. Still, if we are ever to make progress, we have to give up our reliance on step-by-step approaches and embrace innovation, learning as we go.



Learn more about the properties of an adaptive challenge here (pgs. 19-22):

Photo courtesy of Philo Nordlund