The Strong, Silent Type

When I walked into Lyle Clayburn’s office I saw a Christopher Morley quote framed on his wall:

There’s only one success: To be able to spend your life in your own way.

"I always thought of myself as the strong, silent type who didn’t need anybody else in any way," said Lyle, when I commented on the Morley quote. "It was only after my wife died last year that I realized how much I needed my family.  When I took this job with all its problems, I came to realize I also need other peoples’ help and support. They’d probably feel good if I told them this -- I regret to this day I didn’t talk more with my wife -- but I don’t want to lose control of my emotions. My boss told me, ‘You have to be the rock for those people,’ but there are too many of them -- I can’t shield them all."

Lyle’s boss Spencer was somewhat disappointed with Lyle’s inability to solve the problems in his division more quickly. "I see him as very bright, very knowledgeable, and he expresses himself extremely well. I knew he was feeling the effects of his wife’s death -- though he never said so -- and he has top-notch technical expertise, so I thought this promotion would be the perfect way to help him refocus his energy. Now I wonder how this could be the guy who has all the other issues I keep hearing about. When I asked him about it, he told me he expects a lot and gets abrupt when he’s under fire. It’s also my opinion he doesn’t use his peers as resources enough. They’ve told me when they send him e-mails they only hope for a response -- and when he does respond his messages are really cryptic."

Spencer (a Six) was sympathetic with Lyle. He knew it was a tough task to consolidate the needs of remote geographical locations, particularly without the anticipated technology in place. He’d pointed out to Lyle this would be an opportunity to test his management skills in a more complex situation than he’d been used to, pulling together a team of seven managers that included a couple of highly dependable managers and two under-performers. Furthermore, headquarters had been recently consolidated and moved to a new location, so all the front-line service reps were newly hired.

But now Spencer was feeling nervous about his decision to put Lyle in this position. The company had expected a slow learning curve for a difficult operational function, but upper management was now putting pressure on Spencer to speed things up. "It’s not happening," he worried. "We’re hearing all kinds of complaints from some pretty big customers, and morale is slipping. I feel sorry for the guy," Spencer concluded. "I know we’ve put him in a bind and I want you to see if you can help him."

As often is the case when I first start with a client, I felt as if I’d taken a wrong turn into Mission Impossible. But my job as coach is not as difficult as it sounds. I continue to be amazed at the richness of the data available in any organizational system, waiting to be organized, analyzed, and fed back in a way that provides focus for change. Even before I began the interviews, I had an educated guess that Lyle might be an Enneagram Five. If so, he’d been put in the situation from Hell -- a job that required close coordination and interaction with both subordinates and peers, at a time when he was already under great personal stress and reporting to a Six who was under the gun with his own management.

Lyle’s peers filled in the details. "He lives in his own world," said Peggy, "and I have to chase information down in order to do my own job. The biggest problem for me is that we all depend on e-mail communication because we travel so much, but Lyle tends not to read his mail -- there can be a 7-10 day delay. I don’t think he tries to withhold, but he doesn’t always find things to be important that we think are important."

"He misses team meetings when we’re all here," Bill noted, "even meetings key to his area -- or he’ll show up late and/or leave early."

"While he’s in meetings he rarely talks," observed Jack. "He seems to listen to what people have to say, but he never gives anything back so you don’t know what he really took in or whether he agrees with it. He can seem cooperative and then go off and do it his own way, even if he’s agreed otherwise."

In general, though, his peers respected Lyle. "He has an excellent, keen mind," said Bill.

"He’s awesomely bright, perhaps the most intelligent person I’ve ever met." Jack agreed: "Few can keep up with him—you can work on a project for a week and he absorbs it, eats it up; it’s scary how well he remembers things."

Even more to the point concerning his management style was Peggy’s observation: "He may not be aware when people aren’t following him -- he's two steps ahead and this may make it hard to delegate."

These comments were borne out by people who reported to Lyle. "He delegates," said one of his more experienced managers, "but under very tight control. He isn’t trying to steal anybody’s thunder, but he’s so determined to understand the problems we’ve got, he takes calls from customers when he could direct them on to one of us." When he did delegate, Lyle seemed to assume everyone else operated the same way he did -- digging in and figuring everything out for himself. The effects of this independence were clear: "We do get enough information for day-to-day decision-making -- he’s been very clear on his philosophical direction so when we make decisions we know if he’ll think it’s smart. But he’s not one to make things real clear. He doesn’t think we need direction at all. If there’s a major shortfall, it’s in poor communication from region to region. We work so separately, geographically and literally, we’re liable to work at cross-purposes. We need to understand each other better, communicate better as a group when issues arise, create opportunities to resolve problems and concerns."

His staff’s feedback had led to efforts to improve communication. "He’s getting better," said one. "He’s trying to have a video conference with all regions once a week at a regular time. They get canceled 50% of the time, and there’s not a lot of order and structure; still, it’s a major accomplishment for him to be having them at all. It’s an opportunity to hear what everybody is doing." This last comment turned out to be a key issue. "Lyle’s style of going to individuals and handling things one-on-one works counter to our operating as a team. There’s huge potential for problems, and we’re already seeing it in our poor service reports."

All his subordinates expounded on an "in group/out group" theme -- with more or less enthusiasm depending on where they fit. Here’s how Patty (one of the "under-performers" identified by Spencer) described it: "Lyle’s got his ‘first team.’ These are his confidantes, people who fill his needs and share his viewpoints. Norm is there because of his political savvy and Fran is his conscience." (Norm and Fran were the two "highly dependable" managers identified by Spencer). "There’s the ‘second team,’" she continued, "good, solid, get-the-job-done people who won’t cause you embarrassment or trouble but who disagree to some extent with the way Lyle runs things. Then there’s the ‘third team,’ the two of us he considers not to be essential so he doesn’t include us in much -- he’s all but told me he thinks I’m brain-dead."

My coaching work with Lyle covered three major fronts. First, we focused on his cryptic and inconsistent communication with peers to ensure he gave and received the necessary information and support (e.g., making his constraints explicit so he could manage his time without withholding information they needed). With their input he scoped out a plan for his area of responsibility that assured the proper cross-functional communication.

Second, we did some problem solving with his team. Their customer relations problems stemmed primarily from opposing viewpoints about how to negotiate contracts: some believed in a tough negotiating style (which had been successful in the past) while others preferred a more collaborative approach (which they believed would be important to generate new business). These differences became polarized to the extent that the latter approach was described by the old-liners as "warm and fuzzy," "buddy-buddy," and "caving in;" their counterparts, on the other hand, described the old-liners as having a "fixed mind-set," being "in a rut," and "locked into positions." Instead of using his old style to encourage debate (which had led to win/lose outcomes), Lyle learned to facilitate discussions that clarified common objectives and encouraged creative solutions.

Finally, I relied on Lyle's fascination with the Enneagram for clear direction on deeper personal work. He acknowledged that his coping style led to isolation from others and lack of self-disclosure -- a secretive and somewhat cynical personal style that would hold him back personally and in his work if he didn't change. He visualized himself reaching out more, being more compassionate, and more generously supporting others. Together, we created a questionnaire to review and reinforce his progress on key management behaviors, administered to his team every six months for a year and a half. Lyle showed measurable improvement over time.

The year prior to our work had been an intense one for Lyle. He’d struggled with a new and difficult job. Less obvious to others was the degree to which his introversion was being sorely tested. His wife, Anne, had been the outgoing member of their marriage. Not only was he suffering her loss, but Anne had acted as social organizer and catalyst for conversation when they were with other people. Beyond the obvious need for Lyle to provide more coaching, feedback, and support to his team, his expanded responsibilities now required him to attend a lot of business/social events, which made him extremely uncomfortable. Looking for a way he could develop skill and comfort with what he called "small talk," I used his frequent travel as an opportunity for experimentation.

When I asked Lyle how he spent his time on planes he said he buried his head in paperwork so he wouldn’t have to talk to the person next to him. "Great!" I replied. "From now on, when sitting next to someone on a plane, you’re to talk to them for ten minutes. It’s a perfectly safe way to practice, because you don’t ever have to see them again once the plane lands!" Aghast, he muttered, "I wouldn’t know what to say…" "No problem," I countered. "You’ll learn to ask questions. Most people like to talk about themselves. You’re a good observer -- all you have to do is build on what they’re reading, how they’re dressed, whether they seem nervous, any clues to their lines of work, and ask a question that invites them to talk. Just think of it as adding to your stockpile of information. Take it slowly, and if they give cues they don’t want to talk, let it go. But I think you’ll be surprised at how responsive people will be. And once you get good at that, you’ll find it flows over naturally into other social occasions." 

At our next meeting Lyle beamed: "It’s fascinating what you can learn from people on airplanes."