Photo by Felix Mittermeier.
Our alum get it.
There was this moment during a recent program. We were teaching bosses how to motivate and engage their people. Like most things in leadership, those are learnable skills and we were walking people through some systems for how to think about them. And we got a crucial question from the back of the room:
Who watches the watchers? Who manages the managers? Who ensures that these tools aren’t used in evil ways?
First of all, we said, it’s the right question to ask. Because these tools work. Once you understand what goes into motivation, you can design for it. You can feed people’s need for autonomy, mastery, and purpose. You can help them connect with a rich vein of energy for the work. And that energy can help them run faster and think smarter. It’s such an inspiring thing for any boss to see their people giving it everything they’ve got.
But if you keep pushing, you can run that vein dry. We’ve both worked in orgs that fed our sense of purpose so much that taking any down time, making any space, felt like a moral failure. And that’s what this person was asking. Where’s the braking force? Who stops this from becoming abusive?
There are two answers to that question. Or one answer, in two parts. The first answer is: no one. Look around. There are CEOs who step in, but there are far, far more who don’t. There are boards that act, but there are far, far more who wait for it to blow over. Those people should act, to be clear. They are ignoring their legal and moral duty when they don’t. But unless you have good reason to believe that your org is different, it’s not going to make sense to count on them.
The more complete answer is: no one, so we have to govern ourselves. If we’re going to build skills around managing people. If we’re going to say yes to the promotion and take the pay that comes with leading people as a career. Then we have to do the job. We have to wear the responsibility for where it leads. And when you let that fully rest on you, when you really feel it, and it’s overwhelming to you what a big thing it is, that’s when you start doing the work.
We know that not everyone who reads this newsletter is a boss (yet). But Melissa and I truly believe that this crew is one that can make change. We still read every email reply you all send, we still notice every unsub and every new subscription because someone forwarded it to a friend. If you’re here it’s because you’re doing the work on yourself and on your company. Thank you for that. The only way this gets better is when we hold ourselves accountable.
— Melissa & Johnathan
What Johnathan and Melissa are reading
Normally this is the part of the newsletter where we each talk about a piece or two that we’ve been reading. But just after our last newsletter came out, we both read the same piece. Jane Doe’s story of sexual harassment at the Toronto startup where she worked, Planswell.
Someone got her original post taken down, but there’s a PDF version here. A warning, though, that it describes sexual harassment at work. If that content is likely to be a problem for you, please be careful or just file this newsletter away.
Our responses to this situation are too long to fit in a newsletter. So we’re doing things differently this week. We’re going back to our roots. We have both written posts for the co-pour. It’s something we haven’t done for over a year. This seems like the right time.
Read Johnathan’s post first. He provides not only the public back story, but also talks about the Planswell CEO, Eric, asking him privately for advice. And what happened next.
Johnathan’s post: This is Not What Sorry Looks Like
Then read Melissa’s post if you want concrete ideas for what to do about it.
Melissa’s post: The Quest for a Much Higher Bar
In the meantime, that’s it for this week, folks. We’ll be back next issue with amazing things, management learnings, and invitations to come say hi.
But this week our focus is squarely on one message: believe survivors.
