The Process Work Institute is about to begin the process of applying for regional accreditation. My job is to help spearhead this process, and one of the tasks is to create assessments of the programs, of student progress, of individual courses, and of faculty. I’ve been up to my elbows this summer studying the literature on program and faculty assessments, and I have to confess, there’s something about the logic in it all that’s appealing. Even though I’m a progressive education fan from way back (Antioch College ’81) the literature on aligning goals and outcomes and performance is refreshing. It’s something of a relief coming away from philosophies, ideologies and concepts of human development to the practicality of metrics and asking (and then defining!) does it work? [I also read Paul Tough's book, Whatever it Takes, about Geoffrey Canada's Harlem charter school as well as other books on recent charter schools' successes in closing the achievement gap, and have newfound respect for the question, does it work?] (more…)

There’s a lot of interesting research out there on excellence and superior performance. What accounts for superior performance? Why are some people superstars at what they do, and others just average? The question is pretty interesting, not only for what it says about excellence, but more generally, what it says about learning and development. Gladwell’s book, Outliers, is only one of several books looking at this phenomenon. The authors behind The Heart and Soul of Change: What Works in Psychotherapy, Hubble, Duncan and Miller have also been looking at superior performance in psychotherapy in their article, Supershrinks: What is the secret of their success?

As these authors and others point out, trying to account for superior performance by looking at innate talent, genius, high IQ hasn’t yielded many results. The fact is, superior performance is, in the words of Thomas Edison, one percent inspiration, ninety-nine percent perspiration. Now thatâ??s either inspiring or depressing for us average folks. Inspiring because it means excellence is available to all those willing to put in the work. And depressing because, well, hard work. Gladwell puts a figure to that hard work: 10,000 hours. It’s at 10,000 hours that people achieve true mastery. Bill Gates had 10,000 hours on a computer before starting his software business with Paul Allen. Michael Jordan spent thousands of hours in the gym, improving his performance, after he was cut from his high school basketball team. 10,000 hours of practice in one activity accounts for a virtuosity that we see as natural born talent. Or is it? (more…)

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…)

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…)

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.

Iâ??m offering a series called Women in Leadership beginning this June. It was something I had in mind for a while, but what prompted me to do it now was an article I read called the portability study. The portability study sought to find out how well star performers did when hired away by competitors. The study found something surprising and something unexpected: the starâ??s performance plunged, and did the market value of the new company. But one group maintained their performance: women.

Looking for explanations, the researchers found that because women built their careers more on external networks and relationships with clients outside their companies, their external networks and outside contacts made them more portable. By contrast, men tended to have stronger internal networks and relationships and thus, when transferring to another firm, were at a marked disadvantage. Their success was in part due to their relationships within their firms. Womenâ??s ability to develop strong external networks is certainly not a gender trait, but a learned survival skill. Not breaking in easily to the â??old boy networks,â?? women were forced to turn to relationships outside their teams or firms for support.

The study excited me, because it underlined something which is all too often missing from discussions about diversity in the workplace. Groups on the margins have knowledge, skills and abilities developed through the very challenges of their marginality. These marginal knowledges are critical for the health of the center. In fashion and entertainment, it is well know that trends begin on the margins. And in studies on creativity and innovation, lateral thinking, peripheral vision, cross-disciplinary thinking are critical ingredients for innovations and breakthrough ideas. In other words, the margins are a locus of change, innovation and development. There, out of necessity, new knowledge is crafted, new perspectives are developed, survival skills crafted.

This isnâ??t new, but this way of thinking about marginality is often lacking when diversity in the workplace is discussed. The perspective that women or people of color are the problem, and need legal or political intervention, misses the knowledge and skills marginalized groups bring to the table. Put another way, itâ??s not the margins that are the problem, itâ??s the center. Without the valuable information and perspective from groups outside the center, the center withers. The underuse of talent and knowledge from marginalized groups has a profound impact on the bottom line, and also on the cultural bottom line.

So, the question is, and what I will explore in my Women in Leadership groups is not, how can we develop the skills and knowledge required to compete successfully in the center, but how can we become aware of, develop, and use the specialized skills and knowledge we have gained from our experiences to not only succeed in leadership positions, but to become the innovators and transformers the center needs?

I don’t believe leadership is best served by the parallels drawn to war and sports. It doesn’t capture the sense of service and eldership at the heart of leadership. But I do see one reason why military and sports metaphors are so often used to describe leadership challenges. War and sport have in common the need to develop mental toughness, so what you learn can be done under terrific psychological and physical stress. For an athlete, learning what to do is only part of the preparation; learning to do it on game day is another. That’s the difference between just being athletic, and being a top competitor. The professional athlete’s training includes psychological toughness by simulating game day conditions: high stakes, bad calls, mean crowds, horrible weather, and ruthless opponents. Because every athlete and coach knows that once you cross a threshold of stress, learning and thinking goes out the window. If you get triggered by stress, choking is inevitable. (more…)

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…)