Taking the high road
A number of years ago, a friend of mine — let’s call him Paul — became the CEO of a $200M company. Paul hadn’t been the Board of Directors’ first choice, but their leading candidate, a well-known superstar in the industry, had declined an offer.
Paul had joined this company directly out of university and had been there ever since, meaning he had no outside experience. This was why he had been the Board’s second choice. They were looking for a fresh perspective to drive the turnaround of an 80-year-old business.
Paul accepted the position and immediately noticed there were mortal threats to his leadership. It became clear that a member of his executive team was sabotaging his authority, actively working against him behind the scenes. He learned this individual felt slighted because he believed that he, not Paul, had been the rightful successor to the CEO role.
The backroom treachery went from bad to worse, until one of Paul’s closest colleagues pulled him aside and implored him to kill the snake in the grass. “You have to let the guy go,” this person said. “He’s undermining you and your agenda every chance he gets.”
A number of other colleagues came forward and said the same thing. It reached a point where a chorus of co-workers were singing in unison: eliminate this threat to your leadership before it destroys you.
Paul took the weekend to contemplate their advice, then realized what he had to do. He called a meeting with the disgruntled colleague first thing Monday morning, and in that meeting he laid it on the line: “I know what's been happening, and I'm not happy about it. But I don't want to fire you. I think you’re too important to this business. If we're going to reinvent ourselves, we won’t be successful without you. We need your knowledge and expertise to create a better version of this company.”
Paul went further. He contacted the industry superstar who had turned down the CEO position, persuading him to join the team as an independent advisor for the next six months.
In short, Paul chose not to kill the snake. He chose to kill his ego. He rejected the energizing allure of moral outrage. He pushed aside suspicions of personal inadequacy in relation to a former rival. He made it abundantly clear his leadership agenda was rooted in principle, not personal pride.
The threat receded. A vicious antagonist became a committed ally. Leadership meetings prized viewpoint diversity and vigorous debate. The company went on to transform itself, growing to twice its previous size over the next 5 years.
Paul recently retired, and I asked him which leadership decision he was most proud of, looking back on his career. He brought up this defining moment.
It’s not just CEOs who confront these kinds of dilemmas. Every day, in all sorts of ways, we hear a siren song insisting our subjective experience is the most important thing. It’s not.
We are best positioned to serve the interests of our customer, our company, and our career when we put outcome and objectivity ahead of ego.