Corporate Fallibility

I was recently having a cupboard clear out and found a stack of corporate paraphernalia. Hidden in my ‘Museum of Corporate Artifacts’ were pens, pads, desk clocks, stress balls and – most strangely – juggling balls.

When I was first earning my pinstripes, almost every management course seemed to start with a juggling lesson. The purpose was firstly to put everyone on level terms (although invariably there was always someone with a Masters Degree in Jugglement Studies) and secondly, to illustrate that keeping everything going is hard and at times you would drop a ball. On reflection, that’s nonsense – I think they taught circus skills to prepare you for those days when you feel like a performing seal.

Managing teams isn’t easy. Managing people with different skills, personalities, backgrounds, egos and insecurities to align them in single cause for high performance, with you at the helm, is quite a challenge.

When I look back at the senior managers who have inspired me and for whom I would have crossed the planet in 3 inch heels, many have possessed an element of corporate humility and have had the self-awareness to harness the power of apology.

So, why is apologising seen as a sign of weakness?

Organisations which make mistakes to the detriment of their brand (and, frequently, share price) are advised by crisis communications consultants to fess up. Admit the mistake and tell your customers/investors what you are doing to rectify the situation. This will go a long way to stemming concerns and provide confidence that the situation is in hand.

Why shouldn’t it be any different for managers?

In my opinion, the worst types of managers and colleagues are what I call “Teflon Heads” – nothing ever sticks. Anything goes wrong, and their fingers are pointing at colleagues almost as fast as words of blame come from their mouths. (Interestingly, these are mostly closely followed by mutterings from colleagues – let’s just say, usually less than complimentary).

I’m not saying I’ve always got it right. Every day I ask myself, could I have handled a situation better? How did I manage the people involved? Should I have taken a different approach? When will I learn to juggle? Never … I’ve thrown away the juggling balls. Actually, I think I’ll take up fire eating instead. Now, that would be quite a training course.

Contributed by Julia Streets