Leader Ship 101

What, pray tell, is leadership? But don’t just pray, tell. Never mind, this is my blog, so I shall do the deed. Leadership means knowing the difference between “leader” and “ship.” Which seems as clear as a properly cleaned fish tank, not too bright as to blind you, nor too cloudy as to make you cry. Leaders make waves, while ships navigate through them. Unless of course there’s an iceberg dead ahead, rendering most of the waves frozen in place and impossible to avoid. Or if it’s simply nighttime and the tempestuous tides send you howling at the moon for forgiveness, hoping for some deity to jump in the fray and make things right again. In those cases, great leaders plow on, ignoring the protests of their underlings, denying the possibility of mutiny, and lamenting the many mistakes that led to such an ignominious end.  

You see, the best leaders, the sort of leaders you’ll sit with in a really stuffy room for hours on end while the CO detector continuously beeps, are in short supply. And it's not just because of the oxygen. Leaders like that, who subconsciously understand the importance of writing words on post-it notes and interrupting others, are getting driven out of the business. The kind of leaders who, upon hearing a great line of copy put their personal stamp on it by adding special sublime words like “like,” “so” or “just.” These are leaders who appreciate that a brainstorm is a supernatural event, where bad ideas giving birth to better ideas articulate the miracle of life better than any 8^th grade health teacher ever could. Yes, there are no graphic anatomical drawings on the chalkboard to amuse and frighten. But those things are quite small in the scheme of things. 

I like leaders who talk about how much they work and how little they sleep. The hours, the minutes, heck, even the seconds – if that information is available, of course. To know this, you must first master Excel, the sacred spreadsheets that keep so much information at the ready. Leaders don’t ever admit defeat or acknowledge there’s a problem. They play the violin, they dance, they show up in Bermuda shorts in the dead of winter to make a point. Stupid people may not be long for this business, but stupid ideas have a way of enduring, surviving, growing and ultimately winning out. Think of it like a race between the terrible idea and the hare. When someone in the room accuses a leader of “dumbing something down,” they respond with the insouciance of a child, “we dumb things up, thank you very much.” What it means isn’t clear. This is no stunning fish tank. Are there even fish in there? It could be a terrarium for all you know, the glass dream passion project of a plant lover who’s run amok. But it’s enough to get the conversation moving in a different direction – which is the only goal, after all. 

The leaders I respect and admire are those who make everything about them. They fight for the futile. They sing when it’s not called for. They order lunch without asking anyone what they’re in the mood for. They act. They decide. They better be able to swim.

Because great leaders go down with the ship.