“The Fine, and Crtical, Art of Managing Relationships” First in a Series

Originally published May/June 2006

In the mid 1980s when Bob Stripling was at the end of his tenure as town manager in Blacksburg, Virginia, he asked his council members for some very candid feedback. He wanted to know what they really thought of him, his strengths, shortcomings, the whole nine yards. They agreed, and gave him information he’s used ever since.

The most important, and frequent comment Bob received, was this: “You only call me when you want something from me.” As he thought about it, he realized it was true. Bob was fairly young, this was the first municipality in which he was the chief administrative officer, he was passionate about a number of things. When a council meeting was approaching, he often called the members individually, and told them why he thought it was so critical that they vote this way or that on certain items. With some members, that was the major interaction he had with them. Some of them resented it. He took the message to heart, and vowed not to repeat that mistake. He decided to tone down his emotions somewhat, not get so invested in individual Council votes. Moreover, he realized that he had to spend time with the Council members getting to know them, when he had no agenda. These insights served him well in his future jobs. Indeed, years later, he started telling people in his profession that the city manager job is “all about relationships.” For a guy who’s a strong introvert, with an MBA, with strong technical skills (and interests), that’s quite an impressive change.

THE POWER OF RELATIONSHIPS

Many managers have learned the lesson Bob Stripling learned about relationships. Some, like Bob, seek out feedback early on, and use that feedback to improve their skills and broaden their understanding of their role. Others learn the lessons later; sometimes they learn too late.

A recent example is former Harvard University President Lawrence Summers. He is without doubt a brilliant individual (he became a tenured professor at Harvard at 28, an amazing achievement), and smarts will take you far in most universities. He served as US Secretary of the Treasury in the final years of the second Clinton Administration, and was named Harvard president in March, 2001. Five years later (after a vote of no confidence by the faculty and a series of visible missteps) he was forced to resign. What happened? How did such a smart guy crash and burn?

There are may reasons. One of the largest is that Larry Summers was an active change agent, and change in any research university is a tricky business. Columnist Eugene Robinson, writing in the Washington Post, has observed that “universities have to be coaxed, not kicked.” Larry Summers didn’t seem to understand that, and he did a lot of kicking. He challenged the faculty at the famed Kennedy School of Government, suggesting that Harvard’s business and law schools might be preparing students for public service better than the Kennedy School. He created a national uproar by suggesting that innate gender differences might explain why women don’t reach the same academic levels in math and the sciences that men achieve. He refused to adhere to what some call a culture of “political correctness” on many American campuses.

His willingness to take on controversial subjects certainly put him on thin ice in the hallowed halls of Cambridge, Massachusetts. But what strikes me as most significant about his story isn’t his challenge to the status quo. Rather, Larry Summers had relatively few people willing to strongly defend him when he got into hot water. The reason? One professor put it bluntly: “We don’t like you.” You see, Larry Summers isn’t only brilliant, he likes to demonstrate it to others. Someone who knows him well put it this way: “I think Larry is a guy who loves to be‹and is about 99 out of 100 times‹the smartest guy in the room.” Arrogance is hardly an unusual trait in academia, but when you have the power of the presidency and act in arrogant, egotistical ways, it doesn’t create friends. After several public skirmishes with noted Harvard faculty, a former Harvard professor said that “I had the sense that people were less willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT

There are many reasons why strong, trusting relationships are important to managers, and none is more important than this: good relationships mean that others will give you the benefit of the doubt, when you’re in trouble. Managers, especially those in the public sector, are going to make decisions that anger some people and groups. It comes with the territory. The question is, will those who dislike your decision cut you some slack? What you want is for those who are angry at your decision to say something like, “I’m really disappointed, I think it’s the wrong decision … but the manager tried to be straight with me. I don’t think he or she was lying about the facts”

Few people rallied to Larry Summers’ side when he was down; too many felt personally or professionally bruised by him to want to help him. Interestingly, many academics (at Harvard and elsewhere) thought he was right in raising certain controversial issues, but relatively few were willing to stand up for him.

Eric Johnson, former superintendent of the Anne Arundel Maryland Public Schools, had an experience similar to that of Larry Summers. After three years at the helm, a string of proposals that his school board adopted, and a number of impressive educational and financial achievements to his credit, a modest controversy concerning an internal audit led to Eric Johnson’s forced departure. Like Larry Summers, he’d failed to foster strong relationships with school board members, teachers and parent groups, and other key constituencies. Some called him “arrogant.” A survey of teachers showed that, on questions of trust and cooperation, his level of support was in the single digits. Again, a smart guy with great talent went down, largely because people weren’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt when he got into trouble.

WHAT DO WE KNOW ABOUT THE ART OF RELATIONSHIP MANAGEMENT?

That’s the question I’ve been asking a number of senior and middle managers recently. When I ask them what characteristics and traits they see in people who manage relationships well, the words are somewhat predictable:

• Trustworthy,
• Good listener,
• Sincere,
• Keeps ego in check,
• Genuine interest in others, and
• Self deprecating humor.

When I ask managers to tell a story about someone who has very good relationships with most people, the answers are more instructive. The following comes from Chuck Short, former director of the Montgomery County Maryland Department of Health and Human Services, and later an executive with the Archdiocese of the Greater Washington DC area. Chuck reflected on a man who wasn’t known for his relationship skills, and the impact this man had on him when he showed a different side:

This interaction had a powerful impact on Chuck Short, and that impact lasted for decades. When Charlie Gilchrist asked about his struggling infant, he was sincere. He had no other agenda. Since that day, Chuck made a habit of calling or writing a note to a staff member, every single day. The call or note often was about some personal aspect of their lives (both joyous occasions and sad ones), sometimes about a professional accomplishment.

Today, 25 years after that phone call from his former boss Chuck says, “It’s amazing how many people at health and human services would thank me for a note I sent on some happy or sad moment in their lives. Often I’d be ‘managing by wandering around,’ and inevitably someone would pull me over and show me a note that I had sent, that meant something. Frequently it was pinned to a bulletin board, and I’d sent it years ago!”

It probably goes without saying that most employees at Chuck’s former agency had great loyalty and commitment to him. They sensed they he was concerned about them.

In future columns we’ll look at other people who form and nourish relationships well, and identify some of the keys to this art.

NOTE: All quotes in this article come from Facing War with His Faculty, Harvard’s Summers Resigns, Wall Street Journal, Feb. 22, 2006.