Acknowledging mistakes

When I was a teenager, a high school friend admonished me for saying “sorry” several times throughout the day. Apologizing came naturally to me then, but it was based mostly on my lack of confidence rather than a real need to apologize for everything I did that was a little off. Fast forward to a few months ago, when the scheduler of a virtual meeting was MIA for her own meeting. My teammate and I waited in the cyber room for 20 minutes, then called it quits.

No big deal—managing one’s own calendar can be tricky, especially if participants are spread across the US. I sent her a quick email suggesting that we reschedule for the following week.

I was struck by her response, though—a couple of lines explaining how and why she had lost track of time and missed signing in. She never really owned the mistake.

I can remember numerous instances through the years where mistakes and follow-up communication have varied. A special education director would regularly show up for a scheduled observation several minutes late and would proceed as if she had not missed the first part of the lesson. Someone we contract with to rent out our house responded to a concern where we noted a mishap in a photograph taken of our home. A painting, instead of hanging in its usual spot on the wall, sat on the floor. When we asked what had happened, he said, “it became dislodged.” Both of these instances seemed to lack the basic courtesy of acknowledging a mistake.

During my tenure as a school administrator, staff would come to me to share a mistake they had made, for example, in a communication with a parent or the student himself. Many would apologize profusely, while others would spend the bulk of the meeting sharing copious amounts of details supporting their wrong-doing. Understanding why a mistake was made is important, but it doesn’t constitute an apology: it just feels like justification.

Like most of us, I have mis-stepped many times. I am reasonably comfortable with acknowledging my mistakes and I typically apologize readily. But HOW I apologize matters.

My take-away: In most instances, responding to a mistake requires a two-line answer: the first acknowledging that a mistake has been made and the second apologizing for it. This communication should be voiced rather than written, but in some cases, following up with a written note can be valuable. Our desired end result should be to acknowledge and then move past the error, learn from it, and not repeat it.

Unintended Consequences

In the social sciences, unintended consequences are outcomes that are not the ones foreseen and intended by a purposeful action.

That’s the Wikipedia definition. Let’s look at how unintended consequences play out in the workplace.

I was working with a team of leaders in an organization where some reconfiguration had occurred. In typical workplace fashion, decisions had been made unilaterally by upper management, and information about the changes had not been communicated effectively downstream. We spent the better part of a meeting deliberating about what had happened and I’ll admit, most of the talk was negative.

To bring the conversation around to something more productive, I asked my colleagues to start focusing on what they thought might be the unintended consequences of the decisions that had been made. Shifting our focus, I hoped, would help us generate solutions to the issues we were facing.

There are many examples of unintended consequences in history: eliminating a “pest” animal only to find that it served an important purpose in the ecosystem; positioning one curb cut at the corner of a sidewalk as a cost saver, making positioning for a safe crossing challenging for a person who is blind. We often talk about unintended consequences in relation to government regulations and environmental impact. But what do they have to do with leadership?

There are three potential effects of a decision or action that might be unintended:

·      Unexpected benefits

·      Unexpected drawbacks

·      Perverse results

In special education, I saw unexpected benefits to practices that I had initially deemed problematic. For example, a student who was perfectly capable of finding her way between classes held onto the cart that held her gear as a student pulled it along. At first I admonished her for being dependent on her classmate, until she told me that the opportunity to chat during the exercise was helping her make friends.

Of course there are many examples of unexpected drawbacks. A blindness organization chose black coffee cups as give-aways for their marketing campaign, not considering that pouring black coffee into a black cup was difficult for those with low vision. Another organization created an internal marketing campaign around a “promise” that backfired because they didn’t understand the organization’s skeptical culture.

Perverse results are those that have the opposite effect of the intended action. In the ‘80s when deinstitutionalization was in full swing, a well-meaning colleague suggested that children with multiple disabilities who were moving into public school classrooms should be given beanbag chairs and radios as an effective educational model.  Thankfully, her suggestion was overridden by those who actually understood best practice for these students.

So what do unintended consequences have to do with leadership? A lot.

I have been surprised by how little leaders seem to consider unintended consequences. As I moved into increasingly complex leadership positions, I learned to ask those in the trenches what consequences might occur if a certain change took place. I also learned to list potential consequences when making a decision—both positive and negative, in a balance sheet analysis.

For example, an announcement trumpeting a leader’s promotion is best not made on the heels of one about minimal salary increases for those working frontline. Or this one:  After a company-wide “Trust” survey showed unrest and distrust in the company’s leadership, a communication went out that the executive team had heard the concerns and would be communicating soon about their plans to improve… and then failed to follow up. Intentions were good in both scenarios, but each further eroded the relationship between leadership and staff. 

Think about the results of your actions. Think about the impression you are making. And make the effort to identify and then address anything that will negatively impact others. While you can’t mitigate all unintended consequences, getting ahead of them with respect and communication will make you a better leader and help those around you appreciate their jobs AND you.

On Judging Others

We have all had experiences where someone at a meeting or on social media is VERY upset about something, and we dismiss their focus with a comment like, “that person needs to get a life, “ or “he has too much time on his hands.” This happened to me a few weeks ago at a homeowner’s association meeting, when one person went on and on about the (apparently unacceptable) way the landscapers trimmed the desert spoon plants in our common areas. It occurs to me that we all might have too much time on our hands, the way we comment about this or criticize that. It’s not just a daily habit, but a several-times-a-day habit we’ve gotten into.

My “aha!” moment about different perspectives came at a public event several years ago. I was representing the nonprofit where I worked, and many donors were in attendance. The leader of the organization had some of the most amazing skills I’d ever witnessed when it came to meet and greets. He was working the room like a pro, personalizing his comments to each guest, and making everyone feel at home.

“He’s wearing that suit again,” said a member of the fundraising department. “What?” I asked, reframing my thoughts to focus on how our leader was dressed. “The tan one. The tan suit. He’s wearing the tan suit again.”

My boss’s professional wardrobe flashed across my mind. He had some beautiful suits: charcoal gray, black, a brown that still worked with his graying hair. He had a great set of ties, some with themes that signified his work, others that were perfectly matched to a colored shirt and particular suit. And he did have one tan suit. I found it curious, unusual, but also a little brave. Why not wear something different from the same old same old black or minor variation? The “tan suit” color was more toward taupe, and I thought it looked fine. No big deal.

Back to my colleague. “Who wears tan suits?” I quickly noted our different perspectives: she disliked the suit and thought it was inappropriate for events like this. It was an irritation to her. I thought it was unique but pretty much a non-issue. While she had judged his effectiveness as a fundraiser in part by what he was wearing, I was looking only at his actions.

Now don’t get me wrong. Tan IS an anomaly in a Boston landscape of black attire. I once showed up at an upscale event wearing an ensemble of brown and realized right away that I’d gotten it wrong. But the idea, implied, that a tan suit might put off donors seemed like a stretch to me.

Here’s my learning: not only do opinions vary, they also vary in the weight they carry. Appearances, attributes, and behaviors run through our individual filters and are judged. Some are barely considered, while others drive individuals to distraction, to irritation, to the need to complain. Some are notable enough to be acted upon. Information inflow is constant, and it can be distracting if we focus on inconsequential matters. Choose what it is that is significant enough to comment on or to take action for or against.

As a leader, you will not only be called on to judge: you will be judged. Constantly. I have been judged for the tone and volume of my voice, the length of my skirts, the height of my heels, the organization of my presentations, my hairstyle, the size and shape of my body. I’ve also been judged on my technical expertise, the way I handle crises, and where I go on vacation. Part of leading is being visible and noted. It’s inevitable.

As you consider how you are judged, spend some time looking at how you judge others. There’s often a story behind what you perceive: the tan suit could have been a reminder of a loved one’s clothing preferences, or it could just be a tan suit. If it’s important to you, consider asking about the item of concern. Find out if there’s a story.

Place your energy where you can make the greatest difference. Becoming distracted by judgment that does not support your goals takes away from your effectiveness. When others point out things they perceive as wrong, take a moment to consider whether their perspective adds to or detracts from your goals.