2023: The Year of ‘Not Helpless’

My biggest regret this year was not attending a memorial service for someone I knew who died unexpectedly.

Despite our distant connection, my grief was real, but fear held me back. I worried about navigating the unfamiliar customs of their faith and feared saying the wrong thing to their family, whom I had never met before. Additionally, I was concerned about how others would perceive my attendance, given our weak ties.

Upon reflection, none of these fears justify my absence, and this regret has been a poignant lesson for me. It seems so obvious now, but I actually have some control over how I react to fear. Nothing but myself was stopping me from making a different choice.

I am glad that even though I feel regret, I have learned something from it: My ignorance is my responsibility and under my control. My irrational fears are my responsibility and under my control. My boundaries and response to social anxiety is my responsibility and under my control. These are all hard, to be sure, but I am not helpless.

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I’ve now proven to myself that I can do better. This is my greatest accomplishment of the year.

On vacation, where work stress dissolves into the Gulf of Mexico's salt, I find myself more patient with my sons. In the last two months, gratitude journaling helped me realize that I was unfairly expecting my sons to manage my frustrations. This insight has made me a better listener, helping me see them as they need to be seen - closer to how God sees them.

On vacation, when the stress of work dissolves into the Gulf of Mexico’s salt, I am more patient with my sons. In the last 2 months of the year, when some gratitude journaling I did finally made it click that I’m expecting my sons to help me manage my own frustrations, I am better. I am a better listener and I finally see them in the way they need me to - closer to how God sees them.

Now, I know, I can do better - I just have to do it when the world around me feels chaotic and when we’re out of our little paradise and back into our beautiful, but very real, life. This will be extremely difficult, but I know I can do it, because I’ve already done it.

Once I am better - as a listener, as a father, and as a husband when Robyn and I work through this together - I start to talk to them different. I’m curious. I’m asking questions. I’m taking pauses. I’m no longer trying to control and react, I am the powerful wave of the rising tide that is firm but gentle, enveloping them and their sandy toes until they are anchored again.

I change how I talk. Instead of saying - “stop it, now!” I start to say, with a full, palpable, sense of love and confidence in them - “you are not helpless.”

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Over the years, Robyn and I have taken exactly one walk on the beach together during our Christmas vacation.

We saunter away for 30 minutes at nap time, letting the masks we so reluctantly maintain as parents and professionals fully drop. It's just us, speaking to no one except three young girls who earnestly and eagerly approach us, asking, “Excuse us, but would you like a beautiful sea shell?“

Some years, one of us is weeping as our grief and frustration finally is allowed to boil over. This year though, we are incisive and contemplative. I am honestly curious. We struggled so much this year, how is it that we aren’t more frustrated with each other?

By the end of our walk and our conversation, I see her differently. She is more beautiful, but that’s how I feel everyday. Today, I also feel the depth of her soul and resolve more strongly. Her gravity pulls me in closer.

We have fought hard to get here. All the hard conversations we’ve had and all the conflict resolution techniques we’ve studied and applied have made a big difference. Yes, we have put in the work.

But at the root of it, is something much deeper and strategic. We have seeds of resilience that we have planted consistently with every season of our marriage that passes. We plant and reap, over and over, not a fruit but a mindset. We have vowed to be in union. We are dialed into a single vision that is bigger than both of us. We are committed to make it it there and we have jettisoned our escape pods, figuratively speaking, we have left ourselves no choice but to figure it out.

And with every crisis, we feel more and more that we can figure it out. With each year that passes, the difficulty of our problems increases, but so does our capacity to manage them. More than ever, as the clock strikes the bottom of the hour and we end our saunter, I remember - we are not helpless.

This year was hard. But the silver lining was that I finally internalized something so simple, but so important.

When the going gets tough - whether it’s because of death, our children growing up, or external factors adding stress to our marriage - nobody is coming to save us. We are on our own. But that’s okay, because we are not helpless.

It’s not about the words

For a long time now, I’ve believed that being a leader is hard, but it’s not complicated. If we take responsibility we are a leader. If we do not take responsibility, we are not. It’s that simple.

What seems to matter is not the word we use to describe ourselves. What we need to understand is two things:

1. Do we have power, yes or no?

2. Are we taking responsibility, yes or no?

Ultimately, the place we have to be the most honest is the mirror: When I have power, how do I act? What about when I don’t?

The rest is just words.

Positive Deviance: The Invisible Path to Societal Change

Have you ever noticed someone in your community doing something small yet unusual, like picking up litter during their daily walk, or always making a point to include the quiet voices in a meeting? These acts might seem minor, but they are examples of 'positive deviance'—simple actions that can lead to significant societal change.

In general, there are two ways to make a positive contribution to the world: positive results and positive deviance.

Let's define our terms: 'Positive results' refer to tangible achievements and products that visibly improve our world, like a successful fundraiser or a groundbreaking invention. In contrast, 'positive deviance' involves subtle, often overlooked actions that challenge and change societal norms for the better, like consistently promoting inclusivity in everyday interactions.

Positive results refer to the tangible changes we make in the world: the concrete outcomes and accomplishments that visibly improve our surroundings. These can range from small-scale projects like a bake sale that raises funds for a community cause, to larger impacts such as groundbreaking scientific discoveries, influential books that spark new conversations, innovative products that enhance daily life, or legislative reforms that address social injustices.

An example is a community garden initiative, not only beautifying a neighborhood but also providing fresh produce to its residents, or a new recycling policy resulting from a grassroots campaign that significantly reduces local waste. Positive results are changes to the 'what.'

In contrast, positive deviance focuses on the subtler changes in 'how' we behave and interact: the ways we subtly shift cultures and norms for the better. These acts of positive deviance might not always be grand in scale but are equally impactful.

It could be as simple as a neighbor who makes a point of warmly greeting everyone during her morning walks, challenging the norm of indifference in her community. Or consider a workplace leader who actively ensures that quieter voices, often overlooked, are heard and valued in meetings. These are acts of positive deviance – behaviors that stand out not because they follow the crowd, but precisely because they forge a better path.

Both are legitimate ways to change the world.

One might argue that these small acts of positive deviance are too insignificant to make any real difference, especially when compared to large-scale, tangible achievements. However, history and social science tell us otherwise. The accumulation of these small acts can gradually shift societal norms, creating lasting change in ways that are not immediately apparent but deeply transformative over time.

This is worth saying out loud because it’s hard to believe. Positive results are more tangible because changes to the "what" are very visible. You can count the money a bake sale raises, just like you can feel the healing in your body when taking a new medicine. Additionally, you can point to the team that got the result and say their names out loud. Both the effort of results and the outputs of result are concentrated in a thing.

Positive deviance is less tangible, in fact, it’s often subtle or even invisible. You hardly notice when a neighbor smiles at you or when a meeting facilitator creates the space to contribute for people who are usually ignored. People who act as positive deviants do this over and over, they change norms drop by drop to the point where nobody realizes that their behavior has spread and has become the new normal. Unlike positive results, both the efforts and the outputs of positive deviances are distributed. The work to change norms usually isn’t concentrated or centralized, and the results aren’t woven into something you can touch or feel. It just happens.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t change the world. It absolutely does. Culture has value. When you make change drop by drop, and spread that new norm person by person, block by block, over time, that behavior that started with one little drop becomes an ocean. That ocean of positive culture, norms, and behaviors has immense value.

Often, the path of positive deviance feels illegitimate because it’s hard to point to and see and feel. It's easy to feel discouraged because the acts of individual people can’t be easily credited with the sea change they contribute to. But these actions are legitimate. Although it's hard to pinpoint exactly where that water came from or who brought it there, it didn’t just appear out of nowhere. People made it happen, drop by drop.

Making change happen drop by drop instead of from concentrate doesn’t make it any less legitimate - it’s just less visible.

I say all this because being a positive deviant is discouraging. As a positive deviant, you act with so much courage to behave in a way that’s not normal. You bear this risk to behave better, knowing that you might get ostracized or punished for it. And then, drop by drop, things change and you get no reward and usually not any recognition. The culture changes, but most people forget that the ocean didn’t just appear out of nowhere.

Changing the "what" gets a lot of applause, changing the "how" does not.

I know this firsthand from my professional life. Most organizations promote people and even give informal recognition based on results. People get rewarded based on who brings home the results, not on who shifts norms. It’s maddening that invisible work is hard to celebrate and reward - especially if you’re the one doing it.

I understand it though, because after all in the world results do matter. Culture is not something that feeds the hungry or pays the bills. And, structurally it’s much easier to point to something tangible than something invisible. I’m not advocating for positive deviants to get more credit and rewards than they do - I honestly don’t think that’ll ever happen at scale because the cards are stacked against that happening.

But if you’re a positive deviant, too, I think we should do it anyway. I was talking at lunch with Lindsay, my team leader at work, about character and that’s something she said that stuck with me, “do it anyway.” That’s an essential way of describing character, right? If something is the right thing to do, a positive thing to do - you don’t do it only if you get applause for it, you do it anyway.

The work to behave differently is legitimate. The work to change culture and shift norms is legitimate. Just because it’s not visible doesn’t make it any less legitimate. The work of changing the "how" through positive deviance is a legitimate way to change the world, and even though it’s discouraging that it’s often invisible, we should do it anyway.

Leaders vs. Heroes

As is the tradition in our household, we were preparing for a dinner with our extended family to celebrate the 3rd birthday of our second son, Myles. And as any parent knows, that means the entire day leading up to dinner is spent joyously on…cleaning!

Today, I thought of a new frame to try with our older sons, Bo and Myles, to motivate them to help us clean, starting with their explosion of toys in our small family room.

“Bo and Myles. Mommy and I spend a lot of effort cleaning, like the kitchen, floors, bathroom and laundry, on behalf of the entire family. Could you be leaders on cleaning up your toys in the family room? We need you to take the lead in the family room, just like mommy and I take the lead on other things, so that we can be ready for Myles’ birthday party and so we can all live in a clean house.”

The reframe worked instantly. And more importantly, it was more true and sincere than how I usually chirp and nag at our sons to tidy up after themselves. We really do need them to take lead on cleaning up their toys in the family room on behalf of us all.

But as Bo, our five year old gleefully said, “Yeah! I wanna be a leader! I wanna be a leader”, I paused.

Am I goading our sons to obsess with being a leader? Am I feeding the hero-worship our culture can have around leadership? Am I pushing them into conflating leadership with praise and celebrity?

As I kept sweeping and they dug into putting way magnet tiles and action figures, I began thinking about the concepts at play in the moment. In our country and culture, we seem to conflate the idea of being a “leader” and being a “hero”.

This is how the concepts seem to work, at least in the United States. A “leader” is someone who takes responsibility. A “celebrity” is someone who is popular and exalted by others. A “hero” is an intersection of both.

It seems to me, that what we really need in the world is more people who take responsibility. We need leaders on every block.

I want my sons to take responsibility and lead. I want to take responsibility and lead myself, for whatever my team, my family, or my community needs me to take lead on. I want there to be more people who take responsibility for every little nook and cranny of the world - I think the world would naturally become a wonderful place if that was the case.

If some of those people who are taking responsibility become celebrities, I suppose I don’t mind.

What I observed and realized this morning while cleaning, is that I feel the pressure to be a “hero.” I feel the tension of the prevailing culture that makes it seem like success is success if and only if I am exalted. I see the people who get promoted because they’re good at promoting themselves (without actually being good at their job responsibilities), and I feel the pressure of self-promotion, too

It makes me think: what am I committed to? Am I committed to taking responsibility, even if I’m not applauded for it? Am I committed to leading, even if it’s quiet and unnoticed?

As a parent, what am I helping my sons to become? Am I teaching them to lead, or am I teaching them that taking responsibility only matters if we also become celebrities?

And then of course, there’s the vexing version of these questions for anyone who is the designated leader of a team or an enterprise: are we creating an environment where people care about taking responsibility, or, are we creating an environment where they fight to become company celebrities?

I think I ought to be creating teams and enterprises which value responsibility over celebrity, but is that what I’m actually doing? Is that what I’m actually role modeling?

These questions matter because how people are motivated in organizational life is an expansive, global, flywheel for talent development, culture, and value creation at the planetary-level. It feels daunting, and anything we try to do might feel insignificant.

But that’s not true, our individual actions affect what the collective culture around leadership becomes. Even though the scale of leadership culture is literally worldwide, we can start by examining how we tell stories about ourselves, and how we reinforce behavior on our own teams. We can start making improvements in our little corner of the organizational world, and we ought to.

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I was sitting on the couch writing this post and our five-year old son, Bo, was interested in what I was writing. I just had a great conversation with him about leaders and heroes. Here are some notes and a few tools if you’re a parent that wants to talk about why being a leader is important, even if you’re not a hero.

Me: What do you think a leader is?

Bo: Someone who does the right thing.

Me: I agree with you. I think a leader is someone who does the right thing and takes responsibility to help people.

Me: Let me explain what a Venn Diagram is to you. [I used the diagram below and we talked about dogs and animals we know. I explained how in this Venn diagram some animals are dogs, some animals have black fur, and if a dog has black fur it goes in the middle.]

Me: Now, let me show you what I was writing about. [I showed him the Leader vs. Hero vs. Celebrity Venn diagram above] Do you think a leader has to be popular and everyone has to know and talk about them?

Bo: Yeah!

Me: I disagree with you bud, let me explain why. What about Captain America. Does he do the right thing and help people?

Bo: He does!

Me: Do a lot of people know him?

Bo: I think so?

Me: I think you’re right, a lot of people do know about Captain America and talk about him. What do you think matters more - that Captain America does the right thing and helps people, or that a lot of people talk about him?

Bo: That he does the right thing! That he does the right thing!

Me: I agree with you bud. Some people are heroes, like Captain America. They do the right thing, take responsibility, and help people. They’re also popular and a lot of people talk about them. That’s what I think a hero is. But I agree with you, it’s fine if someone helps people and is popular, but I think what’s more important is that they do the right thing and help people.

Bo: Mommy, mommy! Captain America helps people and is a leader, that’s the best part about him!

If true, am I really a “leader”?

If I choose to…

…say “just give it to me” instead of teach,

…set a low standard so I don’t have to teach,

…blame them for not “being better”,

…blame them for my anger instead of owning it,

…let the outcome we’re trying to achieve remain unclear,

…keep the important reason for what we’re doing a secret,

…leave my own behavior unmeasured and unmanaged,

…set a high standard without being willing to teach,

…proceed without listening to what’s really going on,

…proceed without understanding their superpowers and motivations,

…withhold my true feelings about a problem,

…avoid difficult conversations,

…believe doing gopher work to help the team is “beneath me”,

…steal loyalty by threatening shame or embarrassment,

…move around 1 on 1 time when I get better plans,

…be absent in a time of need (or a time of quiet celebration),

…waffle on a decision,

…or let a known problem fester,

Am I really a “manager” or a “leader”? Can I really call myself a “parent”?

If I’ve shirked all the parts requiring responsibility, what am I?

To me all “leadership” really is, is taking responsibility. It’s the necessary and sufficient condition of it. The listed items I’ve prepared are just some examples of the responsibilities we can choose (or not) to take.

And, definitely, there are about 5 of those that I fail at, regularly. My hope is that by making these moments transparent, it will be more possible to make different choices.