Why Michael Jordan–the Greatest Ever–Isn’t a Leader

Normally I would not write about what leadership is not.  But a few days ago, Michael Jordan, arguably the greatest basketball player ever, was inducted into the hall of fame along with Jerry Sloan, C. Vivian Stringer, John Stockton and David Robinson, and the differences in their approaches were so striking that it is, for me, a leadership lesson not to be missed.

While there can be no questioning Jordan’s greatness in terms of basketball prowess, having observed the speeches given by each of his peers, followed by his own, I am willing to contend that he is the least of the leaders in that group.

Here are two reasons why:

• Leadership is partly about outcomes, yes, but it is also about priorities, not just those evidenced in stats and on scoreboards.  Jordan seems to have failed to recognize this.  His remarks carried the tone of one ill at ease without such measures, struggling to define himself in ways other than by competing.  In contrast, his peers spoke at length about other areas of their lives, and exhibited the richness of community and giving back.  Jordan’s comments, in contrast, spoke of being recognized, and winning was the focal point of every anecdote he related.  He stood awkwardly as a man reliving old glories, as opposed to one who had found and pursued new ones.

 

• Leadership is about others.  So impressive were Stockton and Robinson as each of them spoke directly and specifically to each of their children, telling them one by one what gifts they possess and expressing joy and pride in those.  Jordan’s primary remark to his children was, “I wouldn’t want to be you guys,” presumably because none of them would live up to his own feats.  Aside from a brief reference to Scottie Pippen, he mentioned others only in the context of “putting wood on the competitive fire,” giving him reason to prove doubters wrong or defy his critics.

Leadership, among other things, is about priorities, and it is about others.  And prioritizing others, unfortunately, is something Michael Jordan, the greatest basketball player ever, was (and, unfortunately, is) seemingly unable to do.

And that is why, though he has accomplished much else, he is not an accomplished leader.

Leaning In

I saw something striking this weekend.

On 2 different occasions, and with 2 different sets of people, I saw a father put his arm around his son. Nothing unusual about this, really, except for what happened next: both sons leaned in.

Perhaps still, not altogether unusual. But these sons were older–one was in his mid-teens by appearance; the other, probably late teens, perhaps early twenties.

Evidence of a good father-son relationship; evidence of good leadership.

What are you doing so that your followers are “leaning in” to you? To the work you are set to accomplish together?

Permission vs. Trust

I borrowed a friend’s car today–the same friend, incidentally, who invited me to play soccer this week. 

Doing so reminded me of an essential ingredient of leadership: trust.

Obviously, I have enough trust capital with my friend that he was willing to loan me his car–that’s the obvious point–but there’s more: I picked up his car from his house when he wasn’t home.  He left the car parked in his driveway with his entire set of keys in the ignition and told me to come by and pick it up the night before.

Two extrapolations of trust merit mentioning here: first, he was, in essence, whether he’d thought about it or not, trusting me not just with his car, but with his home and anything else that I might have been able to get into with those keys.  Second, he was trusting his community, his neighbors, by leaving the car unattended with the keys in the ignition. 

So what are the ingredients of trust?  Is it knowing that the trusted party will not do anything unbecoming?  Assuming the best in people until they prove us wrong?

I submit that it can be these things, but that in order for trust to be actionable–the basis of a relationship between a leader and follower–it must be based on two things: faith and shared expectations.

My friend loaned me his car because he had faith not that nothing would happen to his car while I had it, but in my ability to ensure that nothing would happen.  He trusted me because he believed that his expectation of how to care for his car and my expectation were similar, if not exactly the same.  But it was trust because he did not clarify that with me up front, as we might expect to do with a teen driver, for example. 

It is possible to give permission, but not trust.

Are you trusting your followers, or do they just have your permission?

They know the difference.  Do you?

Granting Access

I played soccer today for the first time in probably 4 years.

I’d been invited by a friend to a regularly scheduled pickup game. We’d talked about it a few times, but today it finally worked for me to attend. I had a lot of fun–good exercise with a good group of people.

And it brought a simple reflection: I was granted access. I never would have known about that game had I not been invited. Once I had been, though, all I needed to do was show up. Everyone was welcoming to me because I was the friend of a friend. They hadn’t seen me play and had no idea whether or not I was any good at soccer, nor did they seem to care. I’d been invited by someone they knew and trusted, and that was enough for them.

I wouldn’t have gone had I not been invited; people who follow you might not be going because they haven’t been invited either. Do you need to challenge them with something new? Grant them access to your network or a contact? Talk them up in front of others who already trust your judgment?

Grant them access–it might be the very thing they need to soar.

How Well Do You Know Them?

Dave the Freak Factor Guy is at it again with some great advice: “Remember that rarity, scarcity and differentiation increase your value.”

If we are on our way to doing that for ourselves as leaders–understanding what makes us unique, what special equipping we have–how do we transition to doing that for others?

My children started school today.  My son’s teacher sent home a simple questionnaire for parents:
1. What would be important for me to know about your child early on in the school year?
2. What is your child passionate about?
3. What are some of your child’s favorite activities/hobbies?
4. How does your child feel about school?
5. When it comes to learning, what would you say is your child’s way of learning? (several options given)

I could make the argument that every one of these questions has to do with uniqueness, equipping, rarity and value.  Early indications are that my son’s teacher understands this, and is exercising leadership in trying to extend that to others, which makes me very happy.  What makes me sad, though, is that there will be many parents (read leaders) who no doubt will have trouble with these questions.

It is certainly important to discover what uniqueness we have–it is, I would argue, the first step of leading well. 

But we must extend, and apply that to our knowledge of others.  We must alter our interactions with them based on their uniqueness, encouraging and drawing it from them.

My son’s teacher has no idea what she’s in for…

…or maybe she does.

A Leader’s Base

It was an interesting challenge.

The speaker at our church had invited all of the students who would be entering school in the next few days and weeks to stand, and then invited those of us around them to lend our support by offering a hand, a prayer, or a word of encouragement.

My first instinct was to remain with my children, who were seated next to me.

But then I noticed that some of my friends, students at the local college, were standing alone. 

Still I was inclined to remain with my own.

My wife’s gaze broke my indecision, as she offered permission with a point of her finger.

It was all I needed, and I went to them.

Not a significant event, except: what is the base from which we are operating as leaders?  Do we have the support of those around us?  Do those closest to us know us well enough and have enough faith in us that they will grant us permission to venture outside of our shared circle?

I could not have been a support to others without this permission, this understanding, from my wife and from my children.  Had they any doubt about my intent, my involvement in their lives, my willingness to support them, or my history with them, I could not have moved.

And my circle would remain closed.

And my impact would remain narrow.

Strengthen the base, and good things will follow.

What I Care About

My last post promised to write about what I care about, inspired by a Jonathan Fields blog.

Here’s why: we have to risk.  We have to be vulnerable.  People who would follow us can’t see us as solely interested in social networking, advancing our own gains, or disinterested.  In short, we have to care.  But that’s not enough.  We have to demonstrate it.  We have to be brave enough to say so.

I’m brave enough to say so.

• I care about my children and the legacy I will have to them–more than they will ever imagine until they have their own.  And they will never know the pain I have known.
• I care about my wife, without whom I would enjoy so few of the gifts I have in my life; I care that at any moment she knows, now and forever, that in my eyes she is the most beautiful and magnetic thing on our planet, and that my love for her will never learn of ends.
• I care about weighing in on other people’s lives, whether it is through words, speech or action.  I care to influence; I care to lead; I care to inspire; I care to encourage; I care to make a difference in the life of each person I encounter–great or small–one person or one thousand at a time.  I care to be present.  I care to change lives.  I care to ensure that things are better than they were when I got here.
• I care about service.  I care about making the world better through sacrifice, even struggle. 
• I care about strings, whether the notes were penned by Handel or Sigur Ros.  But more, I care about cultivating a heart that will always allow me to pause and go wherever they take me, regardless of where I am or who else is around.
• I care about images–reminding people, helping them to remember, inspiring, capturing, seeing people as they are and as they’d like to be; helping them get to that place.
• I care about people.  Full stop.
• I care about living with intentionality, passion, zeal and courage.  And I care whether or not these are motivated by, and express themselves in, love.
• I care about relationships.  Deep and rich and difficult and painful and core to our very existence.  But I don’t care who goes first, so long as we go…
• I care about running in the rain.

And I care about you.  How are you affected by this?  What do you care about?  Do you care enough to take your causes to action?  Will you write a note, send an email, give a hug, let it escape somehow? 

You care too. 

Don’t hide. 

Be brave. 

You’re not the only one.

Friends, Fans and Followers–Part 2

A few days ago, I suggested that leaders do more to define what’s behind terms like “friend,” “fan” and “follower” which seem so easily attained in a social networking context.

Jonathan Fields has done me one better in a post called “Lies, Damn Lies and Follower Counts.  What Really Matters.”

In it, he explains that while Friends, Fans and Followers can be meaningful, even necessary metrics, they aren’t all he cares about.  But instead of simply stating his position, he’s done what good leaders must: offer an alternative.  Too many times we identify what NOT to do, or some ill that lies “out there,” and yet we do little, perhaps nothing, to give those who would follow us direction or example toward the ideal.

Jonathan’s list is articulate and resonant.  Here’s my favorite excerpt: “I care about being present to teach my little girl to skip rocks at the beach, to know her friend’s names, to make her breakfast, to see her grow and become a woman, to walk her down the aisle, to one day hold my grandchild’s hand in mine if I’m so blessed.”

His challenge at the end is “What do you care about beyond the [computer] screen?”

I’d like to know, too.

You’ll find what I care about in my next post…

The Value of Remembering

My son had been invited to play at a friend’s house just a few blocks away, and my daughter’s plan was to watch a movie while he was gone.

But I remembered something.

She’d been wanting to go for a bike ride “with you guys [her parents].” (Often my kids ride their bikes while my wife and I run.)

“We’ll ride our bikes to his friend’s house,” I said. “Would you like to ride around for a little while afterward?”

Her smile gave me my answer.

So we did. And after we dropped my son off at his friend’s, we raced, we took a “secret path,” and came home a way we’d never travelled before.

…and we still watched a movie when we got home.

Remember what your followers want and need–the rewards can be tremendous.

Friends, Fans and Followers

LinkedIn, Facebook, Twitter…

Connection has never been easier.

Nor cheaper.

I’ll come right out with it: the challenge for leaders in the midst of such connection ease is neither whether or not to communicate, nor even how.  Instead, we are beset by the issue of achieving a depth of communication when words like “friend,” “fan” and “follower” are so easily attained and readily spoken.

How do you define these words as a leader?  Better yet, how do you define their respective levels, or know whether or not you have attained them with someone?

Worthwhile questions indeed.