Don’t get married

I’m continuing my series on leadership-as-bull-riding, drawing on a parallel investment-as-bull-riding idea articulated by Vineer Bhansali1. This quote is my springboard:

Plan now for the dismount: Finally, it is important to not get “married” to the bull. In bull-riding, once the eight seconds are up, there is no glory in staying on the bull… There will be other bulls to ride.  If nothing else, one should have an “exit strategy” in mind before mounting the bull.

There are a number of reasons why a bull rider might become affixed to a bull. Some are by choice, some are because of the challenge of timing your exit, and some are unintentional. For instance, a rider secures his stronger hand to the bull with rope based on the assumption that he can release it at his choosing rather than the bull’s. But according to Google, 1 in 20 bull-riding accidents result from the rider’s hand getting “hung up” in the bull rope. He simply can’t let go. 

Likewise, it’s very easy for leaders to become inseparable from a role, an organization or their initiatives, because of the depth of their investment. In my experience, it’s an even bigger risk if they are home-grown leaders who came up within the organization, because they feel greater ownership, and it’s more difficult to envision other bulls to ride.

No glory

I like the elegance of Bhansali’s words: there’s no glory in staying too long. In fact, there are numerous traps around longevity that make it difficult to step away when the time comes.

  • Entitlement. I promised myself when I started my role that I would not be a president who presides. Inspired by the warnings of Dr. Stephen Sample2, I wasn’t taking the role to be president as much as to do president. I saw it as a responsibility, not a title. But the longer you stay, the easier it is to settle in, to take things for granted, or to feel you deserve perks or recognition.
  • Tying identity to the role. As an Enneagram 3, I could write a book on this challenge. A particular focus during my sabbatical in 2022 was to develop other sides of my personality so I could say I am more than my job. If I’m not, leaving becomes an existential crisis.
  • Conflation of yourself and the role. It’s a problem when you reach the conclusion that you are the organization, and therefore, anything you want to do must be good for the organization. Conversely, anyone who opposes your plans must not want what’s best for the organization.
  • Loss of organizational autonomy. There is a point when an organization becomes conflated with the leader to the point the organization struggles to know what it would look like without that leader. The most obvious example would be founder’s syndrome, but it’s also possible with long-serving leaders who end up eclipsing the founder—such as Ray Croc at McDonald’s and Asa Griggs Candler at Coca-Cola.

Leaving is a radical way to break these traps, but regular evaluation around each one can help keep them at bay. Here are some ideas to approach leadership from the assumption that your departure is inevitable.

1. Leadership is a process of constantly turning over responsibilities to others. There are phases when the head of the organization needs to get personally involved, but the goal is to turn each initiative over to the right leader to carry it forward. In my experience, the best way to kill an initiative as the leader is to hold onto it too long. (See Leaders aren’t fruit-bearers.) The leader’s time is valuable real estate, and failure to release responsibilities comes at the expense of the rest of the organization. Remember that when it’s time to leave, anything that hasn’t been properly delegated is finished.

My mantra over my last months in my presidency became, “Let go. And trust God.” It certainly wasn’t easy; sometimes I struggled to extricate my hand from the grip. Week after week, I reviewed the list of things that were still on my desk and challenged my rationale for holding onto them. I knew there were some programs that were still fledgling, and if I pulled away too quickly, they wouldn’t make it. In spite of my attempts, one or two passion projects were casualties of the timing of my departure. That is an inevitable part of exiting.

2. A leader is a steward of a particular era. Unless the leader is the founder, the organization existed before she came, and it will continue after she’s gone. As Simon Sinek3 points out, leadership is not a finite game, with clear starting and stopping points. A stewardship mentality invites a different way of operating, including a willingness to invest in people, play the long game and lay the foundation for your successor.

What gave me counterintuitive courage to release initiatives was the realization that the next leader might very well drop it anyway—even if it was thriving, even if it had shown success under my stewardship. It’s the prerogative of your successor and his or her board, and closing something down doesn’t invalidate the successes of a previous era.

3. The greatest success for a leader is that the organization succeeds after he’s gone. If we’re honest, part of us wants to prove our worth by seeing the organization or initiative fall apart after we’re gone. But that would be a reflection on a leader who made it about himself—which is not leadership at all. When an organization is left in good shape, has a clear direction and has reserves to carry on its mission after a leadership transition, it reflects well on the departing leader.

Anyone who has worked with me over the past decade has heard me pray, over and over, “Lord, this is your organization.” At the end of the day, you aren’t married to your job or the organization. Keeping in mind that it’s God’s organization, God’s company, God’s program, will keep your hands limber so you can let go when the time is right.


References:

  1. How To Ride A Bucking Bull: Stay Calm And Hang On…For Now, article by Vineer Bhansali, Forbes, Sep 19, 2018
  2. The Contrarian’s Guide to Leadership, by Dr. Stephen Sample
  3. The Infinite Game, by Simon Sinek

Leadership as bull riding series:

Countercultural Integrity

New Years is the point in the year when recency bias culminates. Journalists love to reflect back on the year, and top-10 and top-100 lists proliferate. It’s easy to fall into this fallacy that puts too much stock in recent experiences or current-day successes over historical comparisons. Any conversation about the “Greatest of All Time” is likely going to give too much consideration to modern-day athletes, actors and statesmen as we forget some of the amazing feats of early-day practitioners, especially when evaluated against their context and antagonists.

So it’s quite remarkable to weigh these words from God in Ezekiel 14:13-14:

…if a country sins against me by being unfaithful and I stretch out my hand against it… even if these three men—Noah, Daniel and Job—were in it, they could save only themselves by their righteousness, declares the Sovereign Lord.

That’s an interesting grouping of Bible characters that’s easy to gloss over when read 2,600 years after it was written. In Ezekiel’s day, Noah and Job would have been legendary. But Daniel was still alive at the time this passage was written—likely in the time between Daniel 2 and 4. A lot of what we know about this young man hadn’t taken place yet.

I’m trying to think of a parallel. It’s not on the same level as comparing LeBron James to Wilt Chamberlain, or a current-day activist reformer to Mahatma Gandhi. It’s an entirely different scale, like rounding out the following groupings with someone who is alive today:

  • Plato, Aristotle and _______
  • Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo and _______

How would you even begin to put someone else in that elite company?

It would be much less dangerous to include a third historical figure, where the record is largely complete. Were there no other ancient figures to list among those two legends? Perhaps Abraham, who asked God for mercy, interceding on behalf of two cities that were known for wickedness (Gen 18:22-23)? Caleb, who wholeheartedly followed the Lord in contrast with many of his contemporaries (Num 14:24)? Kings Hezekiah or Josiah, who were both described as exceptional followers of the Lord, who wholeheartedly turned to Him and and unceasingly obeyed (2 Kings 18:5-6, 23:25)?

What trait is celebrated by grouping these three? Personal righteousness, specifically a righteousness that stands against pressure to conform. Let’s call it courageous righteousness and countercultural integrity. The thing about righteousness is that, until the record is closed, it can be gone in an instant. Declaring that a contemporary figure is righteous comes with considerable risk. Ask any company who has had to disentangle themselves from a celebrity endorsement contract. And we can certainly point to many recent church leaders who were exemplary until their secrets were unearthed.

What does the record say about these three figures?

Noah

Noah is a mythic figure, the subject of legends and known to everyone as the man who saved civilization in the world’s only true historical global catastrophe. Before he began building the ark, Genesis 6:9 introduces him as a righteous man, blameless in his generation—in contrast with a perverse culture described in verses 1-7. The apostle Peter later says not only that God preserved him because of his personal righteousness, but that he was a preacher of righteousness (2 Pet 2:5). And Hebrews 11:7 says he inherited righteousness through his faith and in building the ark, he condemned the world.

Job

This ancient figure was commended by God for being blameless, fearing God and turning away from evil—like no one else on earth (Job 1:8 and 2:3). He searched for sin in his own heart and his civic and business activities (ch 31), and held onto his integrity even against his wife’s advice (2:9). He made sacrifices on behalf of his adult children in case any had sinned (1:5) and interceded for his friends. After chapters of false accusations against him, God himself endorsed Job for speaking rightly about God; his prayers alone were acceptable to God (42:7-9). Job is a model of someone who was “purified… in the furnace of affliction” (Isaiah 48:10).

Daniel

This Jewish captive—who would go on to serve as an advisor for decades to a succession of powerful pagan kings, and gain a reputation by preaching righteousness to King Nebuchadnezzar (Daniel 4:27), praying in spite of religious laws, and for surviving a death sentence in a lion’s den (ch 6)—had done very little when his name was dropped in Ezekiel 14.

As of this writing, this young captive had paired his looks and his brain with the courage of his convictions, refusing to defile himself in spite of high stakes (ch 1). He was then noticed by the Babylonian king as a standout wise man in whom was the spirit of the gods and the ability to communicate with the “revealer of mysteries” (ch 2). Ezekiel’s prophecy is evidence that, even early in Daniel’s career, his reputation had spread to the exiles—like Ezekiel. It likely soared after such a strong endorsement from God himself!

Most of us are too jaded after a series of scandals to count on any modern day figure seeing their integrity survive their lives intact. Of course, God alone knows that Daniel will burnish that early reputation even further, and is not in danger of failing.

What’s my point?

Who could stand today in that righteousness hall of fame? Like Noah, does your integrity stand out against the backdrop of our culture? Like Job and Daniel, can your righteousness stand against pressures to conform?

How many of our contemporaries have started out strong, developed a reputation for integrity and courage, only to fail before the end? It’s a reminder that leaders need constant vigilance against entitlement and compromise. Maintaining our character is hard work. 

As Bobby Clinton says in his Leadership Emergence Theory, very few attain the status he calls “Afterglow”—“the fruit of a lifetime of ministry and growth [that] culminates in an era of recognition and indirect influence,” a time in which “Others will seek them out because of their consistent record in following God” (The Making of a Leader, p47). As a leader, I long to get to that point, with few regrets and a consistency worth celebrating.

Fellow leaders, what disciplines are you putting in place to ensure that when you step down from leadership you will maintain the good name you’ve spent a lifetime building? As new years begin, we love inventories, reflection and examens (If you’re unfamiliar, here’s an example), and the one in Job 31 is a great starting place—covering a breadth of areas like sexual sin, deceit, greed, injustice, stinginess, jealousy and people pleasing.

Plan your dismount beforehand

As I was researching this analogy of leadership-as-bull-riding, I was delighted to find another author who had also used the same analogy, but for investing1. Think of the parallels to leadership as you read this quote from Vineer Bhansali:

Plan now for the dismount: Finally, it is important to not get “married” to the bull. In bull-riding, once the eight seconds are up, there is no glory in staying on the bull… There will be other bulls to ride. If nothing else, one should have an “exit strategy” in mind before mounting the bull.

In this series, I’m going to borrow Bhansali’s points to frame out a few of my own points about leadership succession planning. I’m mostly thinking of a first chair leader, but you can make the adjustments to other situations.

Plan your exit strategy beforehand

I’ll admit it’s a challenge to ask a newly-appointed leader—whose attention is more likely focused on what he want to accomplish in their first 100 days—to think about his dismount before day one. Here are three ways to apply exit strategy planning.

1. Articulate a best case road map

Employment contracts force us to consider the end game, articulating parameters and clauses for the eventuality of an exit. They should spell out how the leader would initiate an exit plan, and what steps will then kick into place. And how the board would initiate, and what happens then. A contract is the minimum, a starting point designed for protection of organizational assets and individuals. A deeper step might be a contingency plan that fleshes out scenarios for each of the various circumstances where a successor would be needed.

I’m urging going beyond protection and contingencies to considering a best case scenario for how you and the organization want to walk away from your time together. How can both end up with wins, even if the circumstances aren’t the best? Most leaders don’t ask these questions early enough to make a difference in how they set up and carry out their role. 

Lacking clearly-articulated expectations requires negotiation late in the game, which can create unnecessary pain and challenge. I know it doesn’t need to be said, but you have much better negotiating power before you take the position, not afterward.

2. Actively engage in ongoing succession planning

In a previous role in leadership development, I encouraged every leader to keep a chart naming:

  • at least one immediate successor
  • the most likely candidate(s) to be ready in the next two years, and
  • any long shots who need to be on their radar.

Then for the two most obvious candidates, track whether they are in a position that prepares them for the role, and an action step for their development. Ideally, on an annual basis, consider whether those two have taken a development step of some kind and design the next step you could help them take.

Throughout my role as president, I maintained my own confidential succession plan with potential replacements. I gave regular updates to the board, including a list of my most likely successors, using as a framework the classic article from Eichinger and Peters2 that draws your attention to “seven CEOs working for your organization today”—everyone from the 50-year-old most-logical CEO-in-waiting to the 35-year-old rising star to the 18-year-old high-potential intern. I also tracked along with the development of a number of these candidates, encouraging and even intervening in their development. With a couple, I had direct conversations to encourage very specific development and share openly about my own plans.

Keep in mind that a succession plan needs to be a living document, regularly updated. It’s far too easy to rest in your plans only to discover when you need it that it’s out of date: leaders are no longer available, you’ve lost confidence in one, or your view too optimistic and none are ready. Remember that, in a number of scenarios, carrying out the succession plan will be managed by someone other than you. Therefore it needs to be accessible and understandable by those who might be implementing it. Of course, those scenarios also mean you won’t be the one to make the decisions, and the one who does may go in a completely different direction. Your goal in succession planning is to intentionally invest in your preferred candidates so they are ready and so attractive that they will stand out among the options.

3. Develop a rhythm that asks the question

You need a rhythm that sparks the necessary conversation that will air out assumptions and plans. It could be as rigorous as formalizing 3- or 4-year terms for your position, or as simple as a calendared conversation. Without that, the onus is on one party or the other to initiate the conversation, and there’s a tendency for each side to set the bar high for a circumstance weighty enough to end the status quo. 

A well-designed plan, with early negotiations, a constant updating of the succession landscape, and scheduled conversations, will allow a leader to dismount in a way that minimizes injury and ensures a smooth transition to whatever’s next for both parties. Seamless exits and handovers start before mounting the bull.

My final thought is that both sides need to show a lot of grace. No amount of planning will remove all potential for injury in a process as fraught as this one. But none of these injuries should be fatal; time will heal minor wounds, allowing both bull and bull rider to move forward with genuine respect, admiration and a desire for the best case for both.


References:

  1. How To Ride A Bucking Bull: Stay Calm And Hang On…For Now, article by Vineer Bhansali, Forbes, Sep 19, 2018
  2. There are seven CEOs working for your organization today—do you know who they are and do you know what to do?, article by Robert W. Eichinger and James Peters, 2005. (It doesn’t seem to be online anymore, but I can send it to you if you’re interested.)

Leadership as bull riding series:

I’m going to sleep

You’ve likely heard the line: “The Lord grants sleep to those he loves.” So what does my brain conclude when I’m awake in the early hours, trying to get my mind to shut down so my body can get back to sleep? Insomnia already lends itself to negative spirals, so you don’t want to let the thought in that God’s love is measured by the quality or quantity of our sleep.

One morning last month when I finally gave up trying to sleep, I looked up that verse in two versions to capture the nuances. It’s even more confusing, because what does that last line have to do with everything that precedes it?

Unless the Lord builds the house,
    those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
    the watchman stays awake in vain.
It is in vain that you rise up early
    and go late to rest,
eating the bread of anxious toil;
    for he gives to his beloved sleep. (ESV)

Unless the Lord builds the house,
    the builders labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
    the guards stand watch in vain.
In vain you rise early
    and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat—
    for he grants sleep to those he loves. (NIV)

Let’s dig in and try to put the thoughts together. If only I was working from a bit more sleep…

Notice a few phrases: “Labor in vain.” “Stay awake in vain.” “Rise early in vain.” “Stay up late in vain.” And “anxious toil.” Ultimately all of these situations boil down to a person believing he is indispensable – that everything depends on him.

Or her. Remember that the celebrated wife in Proverbs 31 rises while it is still night to provide food for her household (v15), and her lamp does not go out at night (v18). Lack of sleep is no respecter of gender.

Sleepless nights are particularly a problem for leaders, who are builders, who are watchmen, who are providers and protectors. These roles are not trivial. People’s livelihoods, and even their lives, could be at stake. Knowing the author is Solomon also tells us another piece of context: this house he’s building is the Temple in Jerusalem (1 Kings 5-8). It adds a spiritual element to our roles: as spiritual shepherds and watchmen, we must rely on God to keep watch over the souls of those we lead (Heb 13:17).

The first point of the psalm is that we need to cooperate with God’s work. Unless God is working, the fact we’re staying up late or rising early won’t get us ahead. Better to give it to God and let him carry the burden for us. When we do that, whether it’s at night, during vacations or even during work hours, we are able to release the pressure of holding everything ourselves.

But let’s go deeper. Why does the author—Solomon himself—bring up the fact that we’re beloved? This gets at the heart of why the work doesn’t really depend on us. 

We know God chose Solomon to be king even before he was born. He would be a man of rest, and God himself would call him his son (1 Chronicles 22:9-10). The Lord loved Solomon and even gave him a special name: “God’s beloved” (2 Samuel 12:24-25). When God appeared to him in a dream and he chose wisdom over health and long life (1 Kings 3:10-12), he was not trying to prove his worth because he already had it.

Worthiness is not part of a father’s equation; if a son didn’t earn that status, he can’t lose it or gain more of it through his decisions and actions. That knowledge leads you to a place of deep rest.

Finally, notice that three of the things we do “in vain” take place at night. When I lose sleep at night, it’s because I’m turning things over in my head. As soon as something wakes me, my brain immediately begins racing 100 miles an hour. So at 3am, I’m moving from problem to problem, turning them around and trying to solve them. But I’m not writing anything down. I’m not capturing thoughts. I’m not getting up and working the problem. It’s all in vain.

Anxious toil was Martha’s problem, too. While her sister Mary sat at Jesus’ feet, listening to him, Martha was working hard, “worried and upset about many things” (Luke 10:38-42). I used to think I didn’t have a problem with anxiety, especially compared to others… until I named my sleepless hours for what they are: anxious toil.

So over the past week or two, I’ve been trying something. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I remind myself that I don’t need to do anything to earn or improve my status with God. I hand my anxieties and the sources of those anxieties back to God to hold for the night. I let him be the watchman. Then I try to dwell on what God says about me as his beloved. I picture myself sitting at Jesus feet.

I don’t often quote popes. But sometimes at 3am, I also quote John XXIII’s great line: “This is your church, Lord. I’m going to bed.”

Good enough

When you need to make a decision, what percent of information would you say you need to move ahead? Is it closer to 100% or 60%? Err one way, and you fall into the ditch of analysis paralysis. The other side of the road can spill you into rash action. 

In Blink, Malcolm Gladwell argues that in many situations, people know instantaneously what they need to do, and the problem with waiting is that you can talk yourself out of the right answer. That was my experience in every high school exam. If I knew the answer, great. If I had an inkling but wasn’t sure, I’d then try to logic out the answer, and I’d choose a different answer than my immediate sense. Gladwell suggests you may have enough information in a split second to know what to do, and time could be your enemy. 

In The Contrarian’s Guide to Leadership, Dr. Steven Sample goes the other way. He urges leaders to ask, “How much time do I have?” If you have another week to make a decision, some additional information might come to light that would lead to a better decision. Of course, if the decision is needed today, you have to make the best decision you can with whatever information is available now, knowing that to not make a decision is a decision. The reality is that some problems resolve themselves, or solutions emerge as other leaders step up. In other words, the more lead time, the better your decision success rate should be. Think of it as strategic procrastination: put off until tomorrow what doesn’t have to be decided today. When time is up, whatever knowledge you have is “good enough.” 

There are ditches on both sides of the road.

Back to my original question: For you, what percentage of the information you wish you had is sufficient to make a decision? It’s a question of risk tolerance. If it helps, ask it this way, “Compared to others, for a particular type of decision, am I more or less risk averse?” 

For me, I can certainly be decisive, but when asked to make a decision, I find it helpful to dig deeper. The amount of information needed depends on the scope, gravity and reversibility of the decision. Most leadership decisions are not life and death, but some have far-reaching implications. Here are some of my approaches:

  1. Filtering. The amount of information available to us is unprecedented, so it’s obviously not the quantity of information we need. One of Gladwell’s solutions is the idea of filtering the factors that matter, so it’s less about how much information than what types of information to pay attention to. I remember a very helpful acronym from my university calculus classes: TBU. Some information is True But Useless
  1. Breaking it down. Many decisions are actually a series of decisions, and you proceed to the next stage if the answer is “not no.” In these cases, you have time to see how the first “yes” develops before proceeding or adjusting course. 
  1. Prototyping. I have seen that many decisions allow for a ready-aim-fire, aim-and-fire again approach. In my work with innovators, I’ve learned the value of a minimal viable product (MVP) to start moving, and to test and learn from earlier attempts while working on a more effective version 2.0.
  1. Holding. I tend toward Sample’s advice, determining what kind of decision is needed and how long I need. In his dissertation on “Leading with Limited Knowledge,” Rob Hay describes “holding” as carrying, pondering, and wrestling with an issue, turning it around in your hand to consider its many facets. In the middle of a situation—when thinking, praying, reflecting and discerning are most critical—time and space are costly. But those are key parts of a leader’s job description. 
  1. Testing. For significant decisions, I often utilize Ruth Haley Barton’s spiritual discernment process laid out in Pursuing God’s Will Together. There are a lot of great practices there, but let me highlight one. Barton recommends deciding in your mind one way and letting it sit for a while before doing the same with the other choice. The implications of the decision emerge in ways you might not have noticed if you stayed in neutral.

In Acts 15, the early Church demonstrated a form of discernment in the way they approached a critical decision. The question they faced touched on deep-seated biases and had very significant implications that could tear the Church apart: Should the Church remain exclusive to Jews, or should it expand to include Gentiles? After hearing the facts and listening to debate, James, the leader of the Church in Jerusalem, held up their arguments against his own study of Scripture and then made a judgment call. Three times after that, the Church carried out implementation steps that “seemed good”—to various parties, “to the Holy Spirit and to us” (Acts 15:22, 25, 28). 

There’s a humility in those words. Even when it’s an earth-shaking decision that will decide the future of the Church, the best James and the elders could do was conclude that it seemed good.  It’s an acknowledgement that our best efforts to hear the arguments and logic out the implications are limited and flawed, because we are human. Even if God clearly speaks, we can get it wrong because of our interpretations or the lens we use. The most we can do is conclude that it seems right, and accept that God has given those who lead in this moment the responsibility to make the decision.

We will never get it right 100% of the time, but we have to move forward.

I’ve taken to calling my approach “good enough.” I talk about it in terms of 90%—an arbitrary number that simply represents imperfection. 

  • If I can get 90% of the information that’s available at the point the decision is required, move ahead. 
  • If I can get most of the value out of a 90% MVP approach, move ahead.1
  • If I can get 90% in the room in favor of a direction, move ahead.2
  • And if I’m 90% sure that God is pointing in a certain direction, test that decision, sit with it, share it humbly, and then move ahead. 

Rob Hay promotes the idea of “tentative certainty.” Rather than try to make the whole decision, tentative certainty means being certain enough, with the amount of knowledge available, to take the next step. As you begin to act, pay attention in order to respond to the unexpected and be able to change direction.

  1. That extra 10% will likely take a lot more resources without adding much value anyway. ↩︎
  2. In most cases, people need to know their voice was heard, but consensus isn’t required. ↩︎

Courage!

She grabbed me and made sure I was looking into her eyes. “Coo-rajh!” she told me. It was the early days of my time as president of an organization, and this staff member who had spent many years in Francophone Africa had a clear message for me, which sounds much cooler in French but reads bilingually: “Courage!”

Eleven years later, at my final staff meeting as president, the board presented me with this print from Indigenous artist, Leissa MacDonald. In the artist statement, MacDonald says,

The Bear is a symbol of courage, bravery is taught to us by the bear. Bears are known to confront threats they should be fearful of, they protect their cubs against larger bears and other dangers. The bear also reminds us to be playful and to rest when needed. It is in the balance of these teachings that we are taught how to be courageous.

I’m not sure the board could have given me a greater gift than affirming that I had led with courage. Let’s unpack a few elements in this description and how I sought to apply them.

1. Confront threats (they should be fearful of)

I always reject any suggestion that there is such thing as a “fearless leader.” While I was president, when we would get ready to embark on a new initiative with significant risk, I would lose sleep. I’d be afraid it wouldn’t work. I’d be afraid for those who would be hurt or feel marginalized by the change or who wouldn’t have roles after the change went through. We all have fears.

But my driver on any change was the anticipation of threats. The status quo is a place of safety… for a while. But it eventually becomes a liability and will lead to major issues. I always try to look down the line to see the dangers coming, and address issues early. Threats that seem small today tend to grow. Rather than facing a huge bear in the future, it’s better to face the bear earlier at its current size. Of course, it also occasionally means challenging a huge bear and taking on an issue that cannot be ignored.

What makes this approach particularly difficult is that it’s a prophetic role. The leader looks like a provocateur, stirring up issues that no one else feels are important. People pleasers and procrastinators will always struggle with this role of a leader. When I began serving as president and looked at the long list of issues I inherited, I made a personal promise that I would not hand these challenges off to my successor, but I would address them. I did shorten the list considerably, but I still grieve the ones I wasn’t able to resolve and the new ones that arose (some I likely caused) that I had to leave for my successor.

2. Protect your cubs

In 2 Corinthians 11, Paul lays out a long list of tragedies he’s faced for the sake of the gospel: beatings, shipwrecks, floggings, etc. Then in verses 28-29, he adds,

Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches. Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?

Part of the role of leadership is to carry deep concern for those you lead. It’s a daily pressure. This includes some who are struggling with change, some who are weak, some dealing with mental health issues, and some who are led into sin. Losses feel very personal. We feel every blow.

So the job of the leader is to to be a mama bear, where no one wants to get between you and your cubs. In The Contrarian’s Guide to Leadership, Dr. Stephen Sample has a rule: No complaining about your team. If a leader delegates something to a team member, she has two choices: support them or fire them. The leader does not get to complain about someone on her team who’s underperforming. If the results aren’t there, the primary strategy available to her is to invest in the person and help get to the bottom of why the staff member is not accomplishing the job that was delegated. Her only other option is to change the delegation, handing the job to someone else.

Protecting your cubs does not mean you don’t have to make courageous personnel decisions. I appreciate another of Dr. Sample’s rules: Shoot your own horse. If a rancher has a sick or hurting pig, cow or sheep, he can get a neighbour to help him put the animal out of its misery. But not a horse. As a rancher’s closest companion and most trustworthy partner in accomplishing his work, if a man needs to put his horse down, he has to look the animal in the eye and do it himself. Sample concludes that a leader must show sufficient respect and courage to fire his own deputies rather than delegate that job. I would add that he should do everything he can to show generosity, care and provision as he does it. In some cases, I’ve been able to eventually turn a former staff person into an ally and advocate even though I inflicted the pain of termination.

Letting a staff member go can be a means of protecting your cubs. I remember a time when I had to let a longtime staff member go, one who had been fighting accountability at every turn. The next day I saw the staff member who had been providing that accountability. Her countenance seemed different. I swear she had a bounce in her step. Remember that you never want to lose good staff because you didn’t address poor-performing staff quickly enough.

3. Play and rest

At first, Leissa MacDonald’s comment about play and rest feels like an incongruity. What is the connection to courage?

It takes courage and faith to step away to take a vacation, a weekend or a good night’s sleep, because it’s an act of releasing control. There’s a story that during the long, exhausting hours of the Second Vatican Council, Pope John XXIII announced one night, “God, it’s your Church. I’m going to bed.” Turning over the keys is primarily a declaration that God is in charge, not us. G.K. Chesterton comments:

The greatest act of faith that a man can perform is the act that we perform every night. We abandon our identity, we turn our soul and body into chaos and old night. We uncreate ourselves as if at the end of the world: for all practical purposes we become dead men, in the sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection. After that it is in vain for us to call ourselves pessimists when we have this trust in the laws of nature, when we let them keep an armed and omnipotent watch over our cradle. It is in vain for us to say that we think the ultimate power evil when every twelve hours or so we give our soul and body back to God without security. This is the essential sanctity of sleep… (Chesterton, Lunacy and Letters)

Taking time for rest reflects a deep faith in God’s ability to carry your load or manage the organization you steward.

For a leader, there’s never really a good time to step away for rest and play, but it is critical. Reed Hastings has been asked many times to explain the 2-word vacation policy he rolled out at Netflix: “Take some.” Hastings points out that in many young companies, the real issue is that no one uses their vacation days. It’s true for many non-profits as well. Staff work long hours and struggle to step away, especially if the culture or their leader subtly celebrates workaholism. So in 2003, Hastings removed the upper cap on vacation days and began to model vacation-taking. He forced himself to take month-long trips and then told everyone he could what a great time he had. The company survived without him, and often he came back with fresh ideas. It took courage to step away for that long when leading such a huge and growing company. It took even greater courage to trust his staff and remove the constraints.

Let me also add an affirmation for all those who aren’t first-chair leaders. Having recently transitioned back into a second-chair role, I’ve observed that at times there is a peace in knowing that the buck stops with someone else. But it also requires faith and the courage to follow when decisions were made and you weren’t in the room. It’s that same sense of trust that allows a leader to rest and play.

Conclusion

The question for leaders is whether we have the faith to push past our fears and the setbacks and challenges that come our way. My observation is that you don’t necessarily start out with the courage you will need. At the beginning, the threats and challenges look enormous. It’s in the practice of leadership, from the earliest attempts all the way to the first chair (and back down again), where the muscles get developed. It’s a daily practice. Staying in the game, choosing again today to lead rather than be passive, that’s what teaches us to be courageous.


Another of my favorite blog posts on courage can be found here: Courage and Leadership

Moving from the front row

Let me address a question my readers may have been wondering. Where did I go for the past few years? Why haven’t I been posting anything? There are a few factors.

First, I had more opportunity to think about leadership before I got busy leading. The business of leading takes a lot of focus and energy, and that was the case in my role as president of an organization and my current role, helping turn a startup initiative into a standup. The stats for this blog bear that out, from the early days of posting 5-6 times a month during my years of leadership development to struggling to even post once a month while serving as president.

Second, I had a lot more to say about leadership principles when it was theoretical. I had certainly led before, at lower levels. A lot of my thoughts were inspired by books and the concepts resonated in my personal experience. I stand by most of my observations, and I believe this blog collectively portrays my leadership style. But now I place less certitude in my own leadership observations.

But this doesn’t explain why my posts have all but dried up in the past two years. I haven’t given up on this blog. In theory, I should have even more content to offer.

Third, I have doubts about the broad relevance of my leadership experience. Leadership is contextual. Some authors are prolific in turning their leadership experience into formulas. I don’t think I’ve figured out how to package up my leadership experiences yet. I’ll keep reflecting and attempting to do that here, but it may take some time.

There has been an irony in a front row leader maintaining a blog called “The Back Row Leader.” Perhaps I’m better equipped to post my thoughts here when I’m not in the front row. The value I can offer other leaders out of the wisdom of experience should exceed my early, prolific years. So I plan to ramp up again over the next few months.

I will be adding a new channel to this blog that I believe might breathe new life into The Back Row Leader. While leadership will still be a focus for this blog, I plan to start “thinking out loud” about missiology and other topics to help leaders engage with our world. I’ll start by digging back into content I released in other platforms to refresh and release here. Stay tuned!

The only way to get off a bull

In mid-February, I stepped down as president of Wycliffe Canada after 11 years. Over the previous five months, after I concluded it was time to move on from this role, I thought often about the analogy of Leadership as bull riding that I unpacked in my last post.

Shawn Bellows operates Bull Riding 101, a backyard school that teaches the fundamentals for aspiring bull riders. He says, “A lot of people think you just hang on and make ugly faces for eight seconds… But there’s body position and an art to being in the right spot at the right time.” Interesting parallels to leadership there: some just hang on, and some groan and moan about the challenges of leadership. I long to see leaders who can lean into the twists and turns, and position themselves well.

What I want to talk about here and in a number of future posts is the art of walking away. A successful bull rider not only survives the full eight seconds, but hopefully pulls off a great ride and then walks away with his head high. The problem is that a 2,000-pound bull doesn’t just stop like its mechanical cousin when it runs out of coins. Mr. Bellows offers this sobering thought:

“The only way to get off a bull is to buck off.”

So perhaps the most critical skill for any bull rider is to know how and when to dismount. Ideally with a planned dismount, in which the rider picks the right moment and then executes a rehearsed plan to slide off, landing on his hands and knees and crawling quickly to safety. This is a dangerous moment, when a number of things can go wrong: the rider might not be able to free his hand from the rope, he may be tossed or land badly, or the bull might come after him.

How does a leader “buck off” gracefully? When I announced last September that it was time for me to move on from the top role, I was committed to finishing well, but it wasn’t as smooth as I was hoping it would be. I’m learning that my experience is more common than I’d like to think. A young friend leading another organization sent me this note after learning of my plans:

I haven’t as much experience as you but in all my transitions even though my heart has been trying to help in every way to make smooth but unfortunately boards and leaders don’t always see it that way. My biggest hurts that I’ve worked through as a leader have been trying to leave well and not being “allowed “ to do so. Wish I had an answer for you – but am praying for you!! I am not aware of very many smooth and healthy transitions in our line of work.

I’m still working through what it looks like to land well and move on, but a blog is far too public a way to process it. I think my friend said it well: leaders need to be praying for each other, in beginnings and endings.


References


Leadership as bull riding series:

Leadership as bull riding

There are a lot of analogies for leadership that each have strengths to capture various facets. In this blog, I’ve used metaphors such as gardening, shepherding and art directing. I’ve been fascinated by others’ analogies of a symphony orchestra or a peloton of cyclists. Here I want to unpack a new metaphor that’s captured my interest.

Though I live in Calgary, home of “The Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth,” I am an uncomfortable Calgarian when it comes to our city’s celebrated Stampede week. Fairly frequently, I’ve found a reason to be out of town that week. So consider these the observations of a poorly-informed city slicker on the remarkable sport of bull riding.

I’m betting that most of my readers don’t know any more about rodeo than I do, so let’s establish a baseline understanding:

  • The rider mounts the bull in a chute, with railings preventing the beast from fighting back against this irritant climbing onto its back.
  • There is no saddle, but the rider grips a handle connected to a rope around the bull’s chest. He cannot touch the bull with his other hand, but holds on with his knees.
  • The chute is then opened, and the clock begins. The goal is to stay on the bull and score as many points as possible against the most challenging ride possible over the next eight seconds.

Recognizing the deficiency in my knowledge, I find the bull riding analogy is fairly apt for organizational leadership. A 2,000 pound bull is much more powerful than the rider, and it prefers to be left alone. It is big enough to go where it wants to go, and there’s little that can be done to stop it or steer it.

A rider will never actually be in control, but does have some control over his experience and the bull’s behavior. He gains points for style and personality—things like maintaining poise, with his hat on and one hand waving the air, driving his spurs rhythmically into the bull’s side.

A bull reacts to a disruption to its status quo by making unpredictable leaps, spins, kicks and jerks, trying desperately to be free of the rider. My observation is that a high-level bull rider draws on a wealth of experience that allows him to keep his balance and even prompt certain reactions. Experience leads him to anticipate movement and lean into what’s coming next.

The point isn’t to merely stay on the bull for eight seconds; to score lots of points, the bull rider must gain style points while having a challenging ride. Few points are scored if the bull is weak or moves predictably, or if the rider loses the ability to follow his game plan and simply reacts. Bull riders will celebrate when they draw the biggest bull with the reputation for throwing its riders, because it’s an opportunity to prove themselves against the best opposition.

All of this to say that a successful ride takes place when the bull’s agenda is met by the rider’s agenda, and the illusion is created that a wild force has been mastered. The bull rider appears to have steered the bull when in reality, he may have merely managed to not fall off.

Likewise, an organization is a big, strong system that offers some indicators of how it will behave, but cannot be controlled. It automatically reacts against a change agent who tries to steer it. The leader tries to stay atop the organization, drawing on a grid of previous experience to try to anticipate, absorb and even steer the organization’s movement. And success for a leader is a bit of an illusion. Those we think of as the greatest leaders proved themselves against seemingly-insurmountable challenges and every attempt from the system to throw them off—leaders like Lincoln and Churchill.

What parallels do you see to organizational culture and the illusions of leadership? What lessons do you draw from this analogy?


Leadership as bull riding series:

The wisdom of the magi

Christmas is over, right? Why am I still writing about the three magi who visited Jesus? Well, we are right around the corner from Epiphany, or the Feast of the Three Kings. So it’s timely to focus on this mysterious group of men have been called kings, wise men and astrologers. If you’re not familiar with the story, take a look at Matthew 2:1-12, and then let’s dig in.

Who were the “magi,” to use Matthew’s term? I don’t believe they were kings, but I think they are descendants of a long-time strategy of kings to draw the wisest and most discerning men close to them in a desperate attempt to see the future and lead well. As Proverbs 25:2 says, “It is the glory of God to conceal things, but the glory of kings is to search things out” (ESV).

Let’s trace this thread through history: 

  • When Pharaoh needs a dream interpreted and finds his magicians and wise men deficient, he gravitates to Joseph, “a discerning and wise man” who can tell him what God is about to do. “Can we find anyone like this man, one in whom is the spirit of God? … Since God has made all this known to you, there is no one so discerning and wise as you,” he says as he makes him prime minister. (Gen 41:25-40)
  • When Pharaoh faces his challenger Moses, and Moses turns his staff into a snake, he calls out his wise men and sorcerers to reproduce the miracle. They are also able to turn water to blood and produce frogs but unable to produce gnats. (Ex 7-8)
  • When David is pulling his military together at Hebron, he values Issachar’s contribution: 200 chiefs who understood the times and knew what to do. (1 Chr 12:32)
  • When King Xerxes is faced with a defiant Queen Vashti, he consults “experts in law and justice,” “wise men who understood the times and were closest to the king.” (Esther 1:13-14)
  • When Nebuchadnezzar is baffled by his dreams, he summons “his magicians, enchanters, sorcerers and astrologers to tell him what he had dreamed.” When Daniel is able to explain the dream—because God “gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the discerning. He reveals deep and hidden things; he knows what lies in darkness, and light dwells with him”—Nebuchadnezzar places him in charge of all of Babylon’s wise men. (Daniel 2
  • Even Herod, when he first hears from the magi that a star indicates a new king has been born, consults the chief priests and teachers of the law. (Matthew 2:4)
  • When an intelligent proconsul of Paphos, who already retains a Jewish sorcerer named Elymas and a false prophet named Bar-Jesus, hears of Barnabas and Saul, he sends for them “because he wanted to hear the word of God”—likely not out of earnest seeking, but to add to his collection of wise men. (Acts 13:7-8)

Magi seems to be a word of Babylonian origin, which is consistent with these magi coming from the east. I believe Daniel was a magus himself and likely became leader of the magi. This group’s thirst for knowledge and early indicators lead them to note a star that no one else has observed, to conclude it indicates the birth of a king and then to seek that king in Israel. 

This Covid pandemic has the feel of a pivotal time. Few previous occasions have really become a global touchpoint we all have in common. What does it indicate? How is it likely to shake things up? Many of us, including me, long to understand our times and know what to do. But we haven’t faced anything like this in our lifetimes. I believe a moment like the one we’re in should not be wasted. It should be a catalyst to move on the things we’ve known we need to do, finally giving us the courage to act. Here are a few quick thoughts from the wisdom of the magi.

Watchful. The magi see the star because they are watching. Jesus tells us we should be servants noted for watchfulness, readiness, faithfulness and wisdom so we’ll be caught doing the right things. (Luke 12:35-48)

Take action on what you know. It’s not enough just to note the star; the magi believe enough to commit the resources to a long trip, but even then, they are still asking questions. They don’t have full information on what they had observed, but they also don’t stay in Babylon.

Discerning. They hear the words of Herod that he also wants to worship this king, but they also hear the warning from God in a dream. They are shrewd enough to defy the local authority and heed the words of God.

Widely read. We can see that the magi seek wisdom in many forms: the movement of the planets, prophecy, dreams and asking questions.

From the magi’s example, we see that wisdom is not static. Being in the right place at the right time does not come from a single bolt-of-lightning moment, but a progressive process. 

Let’s commit ourselves to watchfulness, obedience and discernment about the times we’re in.

And maybe 2022 is a great time to expand our studies to include other forms of wisdom or other sources we haven’t learned before. To prompt your thinking: First Nations elders are called “knowledge keepers,” and many of them can draw on the informal education they received before residential schools gave them a European education; they learned trapping, environmental practices and land management from their parents. Any tradesman has a pool of wisdom gathered from experience: carpenters, mechanics, electricians or farmers. Or why not take up a pursuit you’ve never engaged in before: calligraphy, baking, painting, woodworking or learning a new language?