Just Plain Bill

Wonder where our paths diverged?

Have you ever thought about someone who is the same age as you, who has gone on to do something awesome? Something that could be seen as far greater than you have done?

That happened to me in the first job I took after leaving public education, when I joined Bank of America. At the time, it was the country’s largest bank and its CEO was Sam Armacost. I was surprised to find out that we were the same age. My position had a great title (and a long one, at that) - Senior Systems Development Analyst - and it was a job that I really liked. But for a fleeting moment, I wondered where the career path for Sam and the career path for me diverged, and led to our roles in the company.

More recently, I’ve followed closely the fortunes of Governor Jerry Brown, also about my age. He served his first two terms as the 34^th governor of the great state of California beginning in 1973 and returned as its 39^th governor in 2011. He was recently re-elected for his second term of his “second term” as governor!

I do know that our paths in life…career and otherwise…are influenced by many factors. Some are inherited, some are chosen from alternatives, and some could be called purely accidental, like a chance meeting, a change in environment, or just a bunch of other indefinable factors.

Robert Frost’s poem, The Road Not Taken, comes to mind, with his closing stanza holding a clue to the choices, and resulting outcomes, that have led me to where I am today:

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

Or is it possible it’s as simple as the great American philosopher Yogi Berra once said?

“When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

Just Plain Bill

Law of Unintended Consequences

Several years ago, I heard a question that has intrigued me ever since. The question was, “What was one of the most important contributions to the settling of the Wild West of our great country?”

After guessing that it was the Colt pistol, the Winchester rifle, or several other “obvious” answers, I was amazed to learn that barbed wire was the top, consensus answer. My first reaction was one of astonishment, which was followed by doubt, until I read that the somewhat orderly control of livestock was of critical importance in the development of our open spaces. Up to that point, ordinary wire fences were of little value in keeping horses and cows under control.

Maintaining “control” in those days was critical to survival and for taming the Wild West.

Fast forwarding back to present day, I’m reminded of all the things that I, and millions of others, consider important to control.

I think of maintaining control while driving a car. I especially think of those things we do to ourselves to risk losing control…things that may inhibit our driving skills.

Because of my age, I can remember when cars did not have any power assist for brakes or steering. My first car – a 1937 Dodge – required some physical effort for doing both tasks efficiently. There was no way I could have been putting on make-up, drinking a hot cup of coffee, reading a paper or map, and especially no way I could be talking on a cell phone or texting while driving that ’37 Dodge. Even a steering aid called the suicide knob would not have allowed such liberties while controlling my car.

Just Plain Bill

My dog Abbie just died,

and I just can’t find the right words

You would think that after nearly 8,000 walks over eleven years with my dog…walks often as early as five o’clock in the morning and many as late as midnight in the evening…that it would be easy to write a few meaningful words about my experiences as “daddy” to my “girl” Abbie, a ruby Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.

Having been born in Scotland, Abbie came to us from a breeder at four months of age, weighing in at eight pounds or so. She immediately proceeded to endear herself to all she met, with her cute smile, big eyes, and gentle yet frisky demeanor. She was willing to accept all, asking only for a scratch on her belly or behind her ear.

Being a type that had experienced extensive inbreeding, her physical challenges soon appeared in the forms of a sensitive stomach, joints that did not always function correctly, some wheezing, a major snore (that provided me with cover on more than one occasion in the evening), and finally, congestive heart failure. The latter required daily medication in the second half of her life – medication she took willingly, either with a Pill Pocket or in peanut butter.

Many of us have pets and many of us have lost pets, but, for me, nothing has prepared me for the loss…the hurt I feel having lost Abbie. She had lived a long life for her breed, a year beyond what was expected. She was able to adjust to our move from an elevation of 35 feet to 7,500 feet, with her breathing actually getting stronger. (The vet said the air was purer at that elevation.) After walking only on concrete or grass in wonderful California climate, she adapted well to walking in the gravel, the heat, and most recently in the rain and snow of New Mexico – her colorful blanket protecting her somewhat during our single-digit temperatures - leaving a trail in the snow with her belly as she dutifully “did her business.” 

Abbie made me more human. She lived her life without judgment, celebrating the most mundane events with full measure, welcoming all into her full and robust life. The fact that she left almost without warning is making this even more difficult…

I miss her, but know I am a better man for having been her “daddy.”

Just Plain Bill

Four steps to own up to mistakes,

and move on with respect

About 25 years ago, I learned an incredible lesson on how to own up to a mistake, and move on with honor. Our COO, Jim Judd, visited a sales management training session I was facilitating for 32 mortgage sales managers.

Jim started his presentation by asking, “Who in this room has either made a mistake or has been guilty of an error of judgment, leading to an unhappy customer or manager, a mistake in policy and/or procedure that required fixing, or anything that would be deemed less-than-exceptional quality of service?”

The fact that no hands were raised indicated that what Jim was identifying was something we’d all experienced – some of us more than others.

Jim then role-played a customer scenario where he demonstrated the process that works exceptionally well for him. The steps are as follows:

First, tell the customer or manager that they had not experienced your best work.

Second, indicate that you’re sorry the error or mistake took place.

Third, use exact terms to define what should not have happened.

Fourth, assure the customer that the error will be corrected and steps will be taken to ensure the problem will not occur again.

No extra words… no excuse making… just absolute and affirmative statements that go a long way to repair a damaged relationship and provide reassurance to the recipient of the less-than-exceptional service that you have their best interests at heart.

When, and if something does not work well for you, give these steps a try. I guarantee you’ll be enhancing your problem solving skill set.

Just Plain Bill

Something’s gone wrong.

Send them to “training”!

Lead for the 6:00 o’clock news:

“The (add name or organization) is dealing with a huge mistake by (add the name of the person or organization screw up). The company’s spokesperson has responded by stating, ‘We will schedule training to resolve the error to insure it won’t happen again.’”

Sound familiar? Too simplistic? Overly optimistic?

Training is often prescribed for fixing something that’s not working, has gone wrong, or needs to change. As a life-long training professional, I find this often knee-jerk “train ‘em” response to fixing or changing something to border on the ludicrous. And more often than not, there’s little attention to the genuine cost of that magical training, time away from the work at hand, the necessary changes in policy or procedure that helped contribute to the problem, the negative publicity for having screwed up in the first place, just putting in the time, and so on.  

Also, there’s often a universal absence of measurement. That is, whether or not the training does anything to “fix” the problem.

By my estimate, the most expensive expenditure for training took place following an incident in 1991, at an annual event called Tailhook, a reunion of Naval officers in Las Vegas. The sexist and abusive behavior in which the naval personnel engaged, while seen by many as “just boys being boys,” was offensive, repulsive, and even criminal in nature. We might never have known the full extent of the abuse had the media not sounded their alarms at full volume.

As a result of the public outcry, a stand-down was ordered which was the first time this radical action, defined in this case as “…a service-wide "stand-down" so that every officer and enlisted person (in the Navy) can take a full day's training on Navy sexual harassment rules.”  

A full day? That was it? The 1991 reunion was the 35^th annual event and more than 80 female officers were allegedly victimized at the reunion. Surely one day was sufficient to undo the culture within a 35-year event. Too simplistic? Overly optimistic? And what was the cost of having thousands of personnel, vehicles, programs, and any meaningful work stopped? Was there a reduction in harassment as a result of that day’s training? Public outrage continued. It was only after a second full investigation that ranks and careers were affected.

What do you think? Has the gender culture within the military improved since 1991?