John R. Brandt's Blog

Thanks, But I Think I'll Have the Beef Instead

Attended a posh event at an aquarium recently, with guests wandering the exhibits beforehand, sipping wine and nibbling on cheese as they gaped at various creatures of the deep. Very cool but very odd, too, in one respect: The aquarium served not only beef for dinner, but halibut as well (leading one wag to wonder if any of the display tanks seemed, well, you know, slightly empty by comparison). The funniest part of the night, though, came during the presentations. Dinner was in a room with a floor-to-ceiling glass wall that looked directly into the aquarium's biggest tank, full of large rays, sharks, and groupers. The podium was set to the side, but one speaker — looking for dramatic effect — decided to stand in the middle of the glass wall, with various fish soaring and diving behind him. This was impressive, at least until a 15-foot basking shark — perhaps disgruntled at the choice of halibut  — positioned itself about six feet above the speaker's head and proceeded to, um, well, dump his opinion, which descended slowly, in a growing cloud, to the sandy floor. Alas, the speaker never knew why that particular part of his presentation left his audience open-mouthed in dumbstruck awe.

In that moment, three things struck me in quick succession:

1. Hmm. I never thought about it before, but of course fish do that.
2. Wow, that's a really big fish.
3. Never, ever, ever stand in front of an aquarium wall to make a presentation. Ever.

Memo to Everyone Who Keeps Trying to Schedule Meetings With Me by Trading 10,000 Voicemails Back and Forth

Join the 21st century and use email, because you can send me several good dates and times, which I can then choose from, and we'll actually get scheduled. Because honestly, your voicemail doesn't do you justice (you're much better looking, with a voice that doesn't sound half as goofy, in person). Or me any good in trying to get scheduling this damn meeting off my To-Do list.

Better yet, try the calendar function in your Microsoft Outlook or Entourage or Lotus Notes or however you electronically remember where you're going and what you're doing. You might be surprised how much more you get done when you're not leaving and collecting 423 voicemails a day.

Oh, and when I suggest dates or times to you, don't just say, "No, that doesn't work." When you do that, I feel like you don't want to meet with me and you're just being coy or cowardly about it. If you're OK with meeting, give me an alternate time that does work. If you don't want to meet, tell me to go to hell. Believe me, you won't be the first, and you'll save us both a lot of dreary, faux-cheerful voicemails as I hunt you down like a dog to confirm a meeting you didn't want in the first place.

Thanks, and have a pleasant day.

New Term from Golf That May Apply to Management As Well

A Son-in-Law Shot: "Not exactly what you had in mind, but it'll do."

(with thanks to Scott M.)

Welcome to the Hospital Ward Economy

In which good performance equates to pointing at another patient and saying: "I may not being doing all that great, but at least I'm not as sick as that poor SOB!"

(with thanks to Carl M.)

Management Tip from Your Spouse

Well, really, from a psychology professor at the University of Washington who studies spouses like yours (and like you, too): According to research by John Gottman, a prolific author about relationships, "discussions invariably end on the same note they begin... if you start an argument harshly... you'll end up with at least as much tension as you began... But if you use a softened startup — meaning you complain but don't criticize or otherwise attack... — the discussion is likely to be productive."

OK, OK, it's not like you didn't know that already, whether at work or home. But it never hurts to be reminded.

More to Worry About

It turns out that bacteria — tiny creatures without a brain or moral code — can still communicate with each other, according to "Deep Inside Bacteria, a Germ of Human Personality" in the Wall Street Journal. The eyeless little buggers use a chemical language — quorum sensing — by releasing a specific molecule that allows each to determine the presence of others. This allows some strains of bacteria to delay an attack on a host (i.e., you or me) until there are enough little bad guys to overwhelm your immune defenses (i.e., they stuff the infectious meeting room with smelly buddies until they have a quorum and can vote you down). Says one scientist: "Really, they're just stripped-down versions of us."

That's what I'm worried about.

And Speaking of "That's Our Policy..."

...the first line of this article says it all: A Florida man born without arms says a Tampa bank would not let him cash a check because he couldn't provide a thumbprint.

It would be funny, except that it isn't.

(with thanks to Dave S.)

Two More Phrases I Can't Abide

4.    That's our policy. (To annoy/disappoint/enrage customers? To be a useless waste of space when a customer feels wronged? To face the moment of truth, when a customer decides whether he'll EVER do business with you again, by repeating the corporate version of "It's not my job?") (with thanks to Bob R).

5.    I wasn't told to do that. (I didn't tell you to keep breathing, either, but you figured out that THAT was important, and you did it without instruction, right?)

Three Phrases I Can't Abide

1.    It's not my job. (Really? Are you sure? Because the job you've got isn't lookin' quite as secure as you think it is.)

2.    Sorry I didn't do that thing for you. I was busy. (Well, thanks for letting me know exactly where I rank on your priority list. BTW, I saw you on Facebook as I walked past your cubicle. I don't think that cowboy hat makes you look like a dork at all.)

3.    I didn't get the memo/email/appointment notice. Again. (The first 432 times I though you were just unlucky, or maybe had an aggressive spam filter. The next 432 times I thought you were just a slow learner. But now I know that you're just an idiot.)

A CEO Friend of Mine...

...said that he had recently realized something after 40-odd years of management experience: In his entire career, out of all the hundreds or thousands of times he had asked obviously overwhelmed subordinates if they wanted any additional help, or if he himself could provide any additional resources to help them get their jobs done or initiatives completed, his offers of assistance had been accepted this many times: 0.

My friend said that he now understands that what he perceived as a helping hand was in every instance mistaken instead by the recipient as either criticism or, worse yet, an attempt to replace him or her. Neither was true — but the help was refused anyway, and with it the chance to get things done more quickly and at less cost to the recipient both professionally and personally.

This CEO  says that now when he sees talented but overburdened employees, he still provides help — he just doesn't ask anymore if they want it.