johnmaconline

As a leader or manager, you should care. A lot.

I’ve seen quite a bit written about why people leave, but quite frankly, not so much about why they stay. This is important, especially if you’re in a company that’s failing, falling, stagnant, or otherwise unsexy. 

I’ll qualify these reasons with the following statement: I’m talking about workers who could leave. They have the skills, desirability, and the ability to move on to greener pastures. Therefore, we’re excluding people who are stuck there for any reason (ie, geography, lack of skills, etc). 

People stay for one or more of the following reasons:

1. They believe in the mission, leadership, and/or financial upside.
2. They like the work they’re doing and the people they’re doing it with.
3. Inertia.

Over the next few days, we’ll take a look at each of these. 

Ozempic is a problem.

However, the problem isn’t the drug, it’s stated intention, the people who use it, the mentality around it, the side effects, or the cost. The problem is it’s designed to keep you on it in perpetuity. That creates an incentive mismatch.

If you’re an executive, employee, or shareholder in Norvo Nordisk, what do you want?

If you’re a user of Ozempic, what do you want?

Those two wants don’t align.

Whether you’re building a house, making a spreadsheet, writing an article, or cooking dinner, it’s not for everyone.

That sounds obvious to your brain. But probably not to your heart. Your heart wonders why shouldn’t everyone love it? Why not?

That’s a trap. Because it’s not for everyone.

When soliciting feedback, start with who it’s for. Did I make this spreadsheet for a tax accountant or my mother-in-law? Is this article meant for my engineering team or my Church group? Are we serving this bread to our gluten-free friends?

Be careful, because even though that sounds simple and obvious, it’s not always. It starts with well-meaning people.

“I’d love to read it!”
“Can I try?”
“I’d be happy to give you some feedback on that.”

The sooner you get clear about who it’s for, the more useful feedback you’ll receive.

Getting useful feedback is an art.

As someone who has been building stuff for others to use for many years now, I’ve learned the following rules of feedback about the stuff I’m making:

1. Watch what the person does. What they do speaks louder than what they say. It’s not because they’re intentionally misleading or virtue signaling. It’s because, as humans, we are good at compartmentalizing — so good we often fool ourselves — and bad at self-awareness. 
2. Ask good questions. Yes, there are dumb (or useless) questions. Good questions are specific, empathic, open-ended, and encourage detailed feedback. Bad questions are vague, leading, or closed-ended. 
3. Negative feedback is the most useful. If someone complains, it means they care. Caring is the most important part of feedback. It means you’re on the right track. 
4. Positive feedback might be useful, but you must consider the source and their motivation. 
5. Silence is feedback. It means the person(s) doesn’t care. Does that matter to you? Maybe not, but if that person is your direct target audience, you’re likely on the wrong track. Re-evaluate everything.

As it turns out, these rules are pretty good for soliciting feedback about anything.

You’ve probably seen the photos comparing people on the beach in the 60s/70s versus now.

Not very flattering, for sure, and everybody’s got their opinion on why it is. Lifestyle, food, Big Ag, medication, Big Pharma, capitalism, racism, the income divide, America-the-evil, luck, etc. Pick your favorite political slogan.

How does one find the cause and then a solution for such a problem (ie, the kind of problem that didn’t exist but then shows up)?

In the engineering world, we use two concepts to find causes and solutions: white-box testing and black-box testing. White box testing requires a map and deep knowledge of what’s inside the box. Black box testing knows nothing of what’s in the box and focuses solely on the inputs and output. Black box testing is ideal when you know that nothing inside the box has changed, yet the results are different.

In this case here, we are the box. The human biochemical system today is the same as it was 50 years ago.

So what changed outside the box?

The beat writer observes. The coach participates.
The professor observes. The CEO participates.
The pundit observes. The Senator participates.
The parent observes. The child participates.

And also vice versa.

Doing both leads to better perspective.

I learned a long time ago that I listen to music wrong. 

I have no idea what the singer is saying. Even if the title of the song is in the lyrics, I rarely pick it up. Yesterday, I had Chris Stapleton’s “Broken Halos” running through my head all day, but as it turns out, I didn’t know that was the name (or the chorus) because I was singing “Broken Arrows” in my head. Arrows vs halos makes no difference to me. The shape of the words and melody are unphased by the substitution. To me, arrows works just as good as halos. 

That’s a mondegreen. That’s your word for the day. You’re welcome. 

I hear the vocals as an instrument, much like the lead guitar or keyboard. Sure, I pick up a word or phrase here and there (often incorrectly, as above), but its just gibberish without any meaning. It’s just a sound. Broadway musicals make little sense to me because I can’t follow the narrative through the words of the singers. 

My family thinks there’s something wrong with me.  

I also did for a long time. But as it turns out, we have a whole tribe of people like me. We’re not the majority, but we exist. I can’t find a term for our condition, but I’m not the only one.

So I just coined a name for us. We’re the tribe of musical mondegreenarians. 

You’re welcome to join.