My blog stats tell me that my most viewed post, by an extraordinary amount, is Power = force + distance/time. Don’t remember it? I barely do either. It’s a little “back soon” post I wrote during a busy period, feeling guilty for not having written much.

It’s ironic (and humbling) that the most read post isn’t anything related to my ideas. It’s popularity is due to the key words – power, force, distance – which comprise the physics formula for power and also the key to elite fitness, according to Crossfit, a strength and conditioning program whose popularity is exploding.

But it tempts me to try again and this time, make it meaningful to the topic of leadership and power. Jude Morton, a regular commenter here voiced what I too have been thinking since that post:

Outside of physics, all of these formulas seem applicable to psychological processes.

So let’s consider that. In physics, work is the transfer of energy to an object, and power is the rate at which work is done, so the faster you can transfer energy to an object, the more power you have. In sociology, there is no one formula for power or work, but a classic definition might be: the ability to influence your environment and get things done, often through others. (more…)

Remember this Nike ad of Charles Barkley?

Barkley went on:

I don’t believe professional athletes should be role models. I believe parents should be role models…. It’s not like it was when I was growing up. My mom and my grandmother told me how it was going to be. If I didn’t like it, they said, “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.” Parents have to take better control.

This past winter, Portland’s honeymoon phase with its first openly gay mayor came to a trainwreck of an ending when the news broke (on Inauguration Day) that Adams lied about his sexual relationship with an 18 year old legislative intern.

Today it’s Edwards and his affairs. it seems each month, even week, there is another fallen angel, a politician, athlete, actor, celebrity, CEO, or person in a leadership position tumbling from a great height.

And usually at some point in the endless discussion, someone raises the point that he or she was a role model, and has greatly disappointed people.

I don’buy into this role model business. Whether or not you’re a role model is in the eye of the beholder. In which case, anyone can be a role model and not know it. if someone looks up to you, whether you are aware of it or not, you’re a role model for someone. Does that then stand to reason that you have a responsibility to uphold that person’s s image of you? Definitely not.

Maybe it’s my background in psychology but I don’t see it as the role model’s responsibility for not disappointing the one who looks up to him or her. Maturity, in my mind, requires the ability to be able to love or admire someone in their humanness, not in their super-humanness. We will inevitably be disappointed by our parents, our loved ones, a mentor. Are they at fault for not being perfect, or is it our responsibility to grapple with the fact of human complexity?

Last month, I spoke about the problem of transfer and ‘expert syndrome’ -over extending one’s sense of expertise to the point of enacting the expert role in fields in which one is not qualified. The deeper problem is one of self-reflection, really seeing who you are: on one hand, not confusing yourself with your role of expert, and on the other hand, understanding that you are, at the end of the day, just a role.

Barack Obama, for whatever reason, has got a grasp of this person-and-role truth. In a Newsweek interview with Daren Briscoe, Obama says:

I had become a symbol for the next thing. So some of it was undeserved, but what it told me was that people really were looking for something different. I joked with my team, and it wasn’t entirely a joke, it’s something I still think about – that the country was looking for a Barack Obama. Now, I’m not sure that I am Barack Obama, right? But they were looking for an idea like that.

Today both the idea and the man took office amid great pomp, circumstance and celebration. I’m curious, as I’m sure many of us are, how Obama will handle the role of POTUS, and the office, with its tendency to isolate, inflate and distort. Hanging onto his Blackberry is one problem; hanging onto this sense that he is, after all a role, and not just a person, is another. I look forward to the next four years and watching this unfold.

There’s a problem in learning theory called transfer. How does a student learn something and then transfer that knowledge or set of skills to the appropriate context? In common sense terms, how does book learning become a real world skill? I’m still waiting for algebra transfer to happen. My 9^th grade algebra teacher, Mr Eastman, really knew his algebra, but didn’t know much about transfer. I learned enough algebra to pass his Friday quizzes, but I still don’t have the foggiest idea what algebra is or the real life problems it’s meant to solve.

There’s also something called negative transfer. Negative transfer occurs when previous knowledge is incorrectly applied to new areas. In language, when one’s mother tongue interferes with the speaking of a second language, that’s a case of negative transfer. (more…)

The past is never dead. It is not even past.

– William Faulkner

I just finished a Process Work seminar here in Auckland, the second in a series of three. Last week I was in Brisbane, and tomorrow I’m off to Tokyo for a training on workplace bullying (and to watch the US elections from abroad). This weekend’s seminar was called, The Unfinished Work of Ancestors. I wanted to explore how lineal issues, problems inherited from previous generations, determine, influence, and shape our current relationships and family life.

It struck me over the course of the weekend that not only are many of the issues and patterns we grapple with in relationship inherited habits of history, but also how relieving and liberating it is to view our chronic relationship challenges as ‘lineal’ problems – social, historical and political issues that our ancestors struggled with. We are positioned in history, shaped and influenced by social, historical and even natural forces – and the echoes of the great potato famine, World War II, the harsh lives of coal miners in Scotland, of itinerant workers, of Russian peasants reverberate in our intimate interactions, daily habits, and moods.

For instance, perhaps due to the seminar’s setting of New Zealand, the so-called “New World,” for Anglo-Europeans, immigration, refuge, deportation, and itinerancy were themes people connected to their relationship struggles . The immigrant or refugee psychology reflects itself as a lack of certainty, of ‘being-at-homeness,’ never certain of our foothold, of whether the world could sustain or welcome us. What looks like fear of commitment, intimacy problems, or feeling a lack of permission to be yourself with another, for many, was a reflection, amplified through the generations, of the fears and anxieties of their ancestors in a strange land, only tenuously and temporarily hosted by its peoples and government.

Individual psychotherapy, the habit of looking inward, while yielding tremendous insights, needs to be complemented, at least occasionally, with this broad sweep of history. We are who we are for so many reasons, and to realize that our strange tendencies and pesky moods are not only to be found in a psychology text, but in a history book, is, at least for me, a huge relief. What won’t yield to self-reflection and inner probing might best be explained and even resolved by reading the history that our forebearers lived.

Iâ??ve got the task of developing a performance evaluation process with and for faculty at the Process Work Institute. Weâ??re a small training institute, and while we have had many different forums for feedback and evaluation, weâ??ve not created a standardized process that is tied to accountability.

Itâ??s a tricky process. As a colleague pointed out, itâ??s been a steep learning curve. Weâ??ve run into many snarls en route to developing this performance evaluation procedure. The topic is a minefield, on both sides, for the evaluated and the evaluator. For starters, itâ??s basically about being judged â?? am I good or bad? And trust. Can I trust whoâ??s evaluating me? What about the disgruntled colleague or student who has it in for me? Or that the feedback is filtered through the personality of the other person, complete with their values, beliefs about me, biases, etc. And of course, now that we are moving towards performance evaluation as mandatory, it raises the twin issues of motivation and resistance. Whatâ??s in it for me? Why should I jump that hoop? And do these standards relate to my own personal growth goals? And probably one of the biggest difficulties is that, like any tight knit organization, we sit comfortably in a single loop learning style â?? we have our way of looking at things and doing things, and when it comes to performance evaluation, we can police ourselves thank you very much.

But of course we canâ??t. And we know that. So we want the opportunity to reflect on ourselves, to a degree. Because itâ??s also human nature to bristle at anyone who points out any kind of flaw, even if they call it a â??challengeâ?? or â??opportunity.â?? We know negative feedback and criticism, no matter what perfume it has on.

I could write volumes on this, and others have, better than I can. So, the point I want to focus on is the question of accountability. Why do we, or does any organization, need evaluations, and accountability procedures? Why does bureaucracy have to intervene here?

As I ponder it, I think the real meaning of performance evaluation is a cost analysis: does what you add to a group outweigh what you cost your colleagues, customers, and organization? That sounds harsh to think that who we are has a price tag, but it does. Mostly, we add value. But itâ??s often hard to see the price others pay in getting along with us. Even our talents come with a price. I have a great talent at seeing the bigger picture, and this comes with the cost of frequently neglecting details and making small mistakes that definitely cause some teeth grinding downstream. Or, if I am difficult to collaborate with, I make the atmosphere tense, if I derail the conversation, neglecting the deadline that the other team members are trying to meet, I cost those around me in terms of energy, emotional wear and tear.

The problem isnâ??t what we cost; the problem is not knowing that cost, and not taking measures to reduce the difference between our value and our costs. For instance, if I am sloppy with details (as I am), and I send out information with the wrong date, this means that the office staff or my organizer has to spend extra time chasing me down to correct dates, sending out corrections, and responding to questions because people have been misinformed. In order to mitigate that cost, I need to do something â?? apologize, offer to help write the emails or mail out the corrections, or offer to pay extra money for the extra time involved. If I donâ??t, if I just assume someone else will clean up that mess, and anyway, mistakes happen, then laws, regulatory agencies, performance reviews, police forces, etc., spring up to fulfill the function I neglect.

Whatever we miss doing for ourselves, we outsource to another body. But this escalates the problem, and brings in force or power of some kind. If two people canâ??t resolve a fight alone, then a third party comes in to resolve it for them. When we outsource it to another we use power in place of natural consequences.

Barbara Coloroso, a parenting expert, uses the concept of natural consequences in parenting. Rather than controlling behavior through force or might (â??Do so because I say so!â??) children should learn that what they do has consequences for which they are responsible. You throw a cigarette butt out your house window and start a fire next door that threatens your home as well. You see and experience the consequences of your action, and are forced to take steps to counter it. But we seldom have that proximity to the effects of our action. We have lost contact between cause and effect. So laws are created that replace natural consequences with force. Donâ??t do this because the government says so. Now itâ??s impersonal, and there is no longer a reason attached. The violator, the one who throws the butt out the window, whether he obeys the law or not, is still dissociated from the loss of habitat, cost to taxpayers, homelessness, and the myriad issues caused by that one action.

Getting back to the issue of performance evaluation â??I donâ??t deal with my sloppiness, and eventually the office staff complains. So a new law gets posted: if you make a mistake on your dates, you are responsible for making the correction, or something like that. But now itâ??s bureaucracy, an arbitrary law. I might improve, but I probably wonâ??t. Even more significantly, I havenâ??t become more aware of what I cost.

I believe this is one of the reasons evaluators chafe at their role. Not only because they may not be trained for it, but also because they are recruited into the role because the person isnâ??t evaluating themselves sufficiently. The function really belongs to the one being evaluated. Thatâ??s why, in the way we do feedback at the Process Work Institute, we make a big point of training the ones giving and getting feedback to take the other roles.

The one receiving feedback should already know that feedback â?? itâ??s only coming to them from the outside because they somehow missed it. Feedback we donâ??t know about ourselves catches us by surprise, and is the worst kind. It hurts the most to receive criticism about something we donâ??t know about ourselves. But we should. We should be in touch with our cost, and have a sense of how we are received. On the other side of the equation, giving feedback is hardest when the person receiving it doesnâ??t already know about. Itâ??s for these reasons that the real learning involved in evaluation is less about substance (what should I focus on) and more about the process (Do I already know this, and if not, why not?).

And the big question is, why donâ??t we? Thereâ??s been a lot written about this, especially recently. Itâ??s a well know problem in social psychology that people chronically overrate their performance (unless they are  depressed). Cornell psychologist David Dunning, PhD. is one of the top researchers in this field. Heâ??s found that in North American culture, people overestimate their abilities, and that the least competent performers inflate their abilities the most. No one really knows for sure why this is the case. People are definitely prone to bias. They overrate the particular areas they excel at, and minimize the importance of those areas they donâ??t excel at. For instance, people with verbal ability would overestimate the role verbal ability, in contrast to mathematical ability, plays in intelligence. Or task focused people would rate task orientation as the most important leadership trait on a questionnaire about what makes a good leader.

Another reason we donâ??t see ourselves more clearly is due to fundamental attribution error, meaning, we tend to give credit to ourselves for a positive outcome, and lay the blame elsewhere for a negative outcome. Additionally, we seldom receive accurate feedback about ourselves. People tend to give each other more positive feedback to their faces, but say negative things behind their back. Finally, people lack the information they need to fully assess themselves; the paradox is that our incompetence makes us incompetent to accurately judge ourselves.

But another reason is that we donâ??t see ourselves as part of the whole. Itâ??s one of the reasons we struggle to see the environmental impact of our decisions, or the nutritional and health impact of our behaviors. Social marketers who try to educate the public about health issues such as skin cancer, AIDS awareness, smoking, and drunk driving, have to contend with this problem a lot: How do we get people to relate to the consequences of their actions? In organizations, how do we get people to identify with the organizational itself, not just their job, team, or silo?

Power is used as the intermediary between people, between individuals and whole. Rules and law force us to be responsible to each other, to think of the whole when we have lost our ability to do so. Weâ??ve made a big leap from performance evaluation to politics, but I think the common denominator is the essence of organization – association and affiliation. When we donâ??t affiliate with others, we outsource that task to the government or bureaucracy, and then inveigh against its restrictive rules and regulations. But we can and should police ourselves, not out of a sense of duty or morality, but out of the sense of connection and community. It reminds me of how Gandhi understood freedom â?? not as the ability to do whatever you wanted, but as liberation from the prison of dualism â?? that we are separate from each other. Democracy has always been a tension between its two parts: demos (people, community) and kratie (power, law). While we struggle to comprehend community, to identify with the demos, we depend on kratie, the power to force affiliation, but in the absence of heart, it becomes mere obedience.

I hesitated a long time before starting this blog because I knew it would be a challenge to keep at it, even when my schedule got busy as it has these past few weeks. I knew I would just have to bear down, set my alarm for 5 am on some days, and just push myself to do it.

Pushing ourselves. This has to be one of the most interesting topics in my work with clients. When to push, when not to push. When is it injurious, even suicidal to push ourselves past limits, past fear and uncertainty, and when is it an act of courage, a needed force for change? On the one hand self-help advocates urge us to take it easy, to love ourselves, just as we are, and not only for what we do. On the other hand, we are urged to push past identities of smallness, to get out our comfort zones, and to go for our goals. How do we know which direction to take? There is no rule. Managing this inner use of power requires self-awareness.

In Deep Survival, a book exploring the psychological and biological reasons some people survive disasters and life-threatening situations, while others don’t, Laurence Gonzales writes, “the Rambo types are the first to go.” He quotes a Navy Seal commander that believing in your abilities too much can lead you to overestimate what you can do elsewhere. A certain respect for the conditions is necessary to calculate risk.

The problem with courage is that it is often used against weakness, fear or limits. We interpret difficult external conditions, or inner fear as an enemy to overcome. But courage is not fearlessness. The best warriors understand that fear is an important signal of danger, and only by listening to it do we know whether it means stop or proceed with caution. If we just push past fear, we can leave ourselves open to injury or death.

It takes just as much courage to retreat than it does to go forward. Courage can be used as a defense because we are afraid to admit defeat, shamed to fail, and hating weakness. This doesn’t take more than the most cursory reading of history to see how many follies, disasters, and collapses of empires resulted from a false sense of courage and fear of looking weak.

Sometimes courage is a suicidal impulse. When I facilitate groups, there is often someone who stands up, takes a deep breath, and says: “There’s something I have to say,” or, “This has to be said.” I cringe because I know what’s coming. Cops call it”suicide by cops:” someone kills themselves by provoking a lethal response. In groups or social settings, and increasingly on email, someone finally decides to put it all out there. “What the hell,” they think, “I’ve kept my mouth shut all this time, now I’m going to tell it like it is.”

I call this launching yourself over the edge – the force we need to get over our inhibition overshoots the mark, and we end up way out on a limb. We pump ourselves up, after having been passive too long, and blast through our inhibitions, going way past where we need to go. We do this because confuse the target of our actions with the inner inhibition we have lived with. In blasting past our inhibitions, we blast the other.

Similarly, we confuse doubts with inhibitions. We think doubts are just a sign we lack belief in ourselves. And popular psychology contributes to this by promoting self-esteem above self-reflection. While we can get past some doubts with encouragement, we can’t get past them all. This is because doubts are thoughts. Our thoughts. The thoughts we’re not identified with. We decide to go with one thought and not the others, so the unloved thought pesters us as a doubt. And the more we don’t love our thoughts, the more dissociated they become. At first they are just nagging doubts, next they come back in drag, clothed as someone else’s thoughts, “John thinks this is stupid.” This only fortifies us, and now, with an “enemy” to fight, we become even more intractable and one-sided, determined to go our own way, and prove ourselves right against naysayers. But decision making is strengthened by considering all the doubts. Bringing in all the possible problems, and truly considering them, makes robust decisions. It’s aikido – open up to the energy and force coming towards us and use it to go forward.

If we are to take the ecological crisis to heart, we have to consider sustainability as a psychological issue, not just an environmental one. What business calls the triple bottom line means factoring social, environmental and ethical factors into profits. For us, it means factoring in our psychological and physical health by having the courage to recognize limits – our own and that of others. Our bodies are like the canary in the coal mine: fear, hesitation and uncertainty are important signals that can help us create more sustainable leadership practices for ourselves and for the people we lead.

Photos taken of U.S. Presidents before and after their terms in office show what a huge toll that job takes on the body. In the four years between inauguration day and the end of term, Presidents often look like they’ve aged 10, not just 4 years.

It’s a grueling job, with a lot of pressure. What we see on the outside is only the tip of the iceberg. Many of us, while not quite as high profile, are in leadership positions that put a terrible strain on mind and body. What happens to the body and mind under the weight of public pressure and tensions of leadership? What toll does public attack and humiliation take on the mind and emotions? What about our energy and drive, after plans and ambitions are torpedoed by opposition, sunk by the weight of inaction, or stalled by endless rounds of skeptical questioning? (more…)