by Jerome T. Murphy
Are you a high-performing leader working full tilt to make your dreams come true? And have you ever been weighed down by any of the following experiences?
- You've been thrown
for a loop—by the actions of others or by your own mistakes—and
the resulting snafu was surprisingly gut-wrenching.
- You've tried to
control your upset at being thrown—but, instead, you've become even more upset
and diverted your attention from moving forward.
- You've brooded over
your tangles, berated yourself for falling short, and at times even wondered
whether you might be undermining your own effectiveness.
If these uncomfortable experiences sound familiar, you may be ensnared—as I've been ensnared—in “the leadership trap.”
This thought piece examines the trap and how to unlock it. I aim to spark a dialogue about the “pain of leadership,” a taboo topic for many leaders who believe that admitting psychological discomfort, even to themselves, is a sign of weakness. After all, aren't you supposed to be a strong, larger-than-life hero?
At its heart, the leadership trap is this: To shine as a leader, you seek to control your distressing thoughts and emotions in order to steer clear of feeling (and looking) weak. Running away, suppressing your feelings, and hiding are common methods of control. Yet the more you struggle to control your insides, it turns out the more you undermine your outsides—your ability to build trust and take charge as a leader. The more you bury your stress, for instance, the more stressed and reactive you become.
To unlock the leadership trap, I contend that you must do the opposite of what we all have been taught. You first must be willing to accept your psychological pain, rather than trying to get rid of it as if it were the enemy. You may not want your heavy thoughts and feelings, just as you may not want to lug valises on a voyage, but you need to welcome them as a natural part of being human, make room for them, and willingly bring them along on your journey. Far-fetched as it may sound, to perform better as a leader, you need not first feel better.
I propose that you can escape the leadership trap by developing a new toolkit of mental skills and attitudes—drawn from Eastern wisdom and Western psychology—for working with the pain of leadership. You can learn to—
- Pause, step back, and observe your aches, rather than plunge into your internal tangle and become completely entwined in it.
- Accept your troubling feelings as perfectly normal and get on with your work, rather than deplete your energy (and time) in a vain struggle to feel better first.
- Concentrate your attention on what you can control—the appropriate expression of your feelings and, most important, your actions in pursuit of your values.
- Develop the poise to take effective action despite intense personal discomfort.
Empirical research suggests that this toolkit can enhance your performance—and well being—as a leader. But you be the judge. Just imagine, for example, being blindsided by the following dramatic confrontation, which of course could never happen to you! It provides a taste of the tools in action when under the gun.
Fifteen minutes before an end-of-year faculty meeting, your secretary delivers a letter—signed by almost half your faculty—criticizing your performance as the new principal. You are stunned, flummoxed, and furious, given the school's progress and all your hard work. Feeling bopped in the belly, but determined to stay in your job, what would you do?
Would you stew over how this mess ever happened—rehashing the year, blaming the faculty, maybe second-guessing your own actions? Would you struggle to control your emotions by bottling up your fury? Would you impulsively explain yourself to faculty members, while giving short shrift to their perspectives? In other words, would you automatically “scratch your itch”—by getting caught up in your obsessing, tuning out your pain, and reacting reflexively? Might not these common reactions make things worse?
Instead of immediately scratching, suppose you remember first to pause and observe your itch—and then think through what to do. You might take a few deep breaths and silently ask yourself: “What's going on inside me right now—my feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations?” Not trying to shed or judge these experiences, but noticing and allowing them, you might reply to yourself: “Something inside me is furious—and that's okay; what is, is.” Suppose by accepting your experiences, you avoid getting hijacked by them, and can move forward despite your turmoil. Suppose you also can regain enough poise to develop a balanced plan for responding to the letter—e.g., listening carefully to the faculty, adding your perspective, addressing frayed feelings, and deciding on next steps together. Might not this “mindful” response make more sense?
Unlocking the leadership trap is about freeing yourself from a flawed self-control agenda designed to dodge the thorns of leadership. It's about making room for the rose inside you to flower amidst the thorns. It's about changing your relationship with pain by becoming more comfortable in your own skin. It's about exercising control in the outside world, where values-driven action can advance your dreams. It's really about discovering the secret to fully flowering as an authentic, take-charge leader: A Liberated You.
So, what do you think? Have you experienced the “pain of leadership”—and how have you dealt with it? Do the ideas of a “leadership trap”—and the suggested approach for unlocking it—ring true for you? Stories are welcome.
This was an extremely timely thought piece for me! Being a building principal in a fairly affluent suburban middle school is both a blessing and a curse: a blessing because of the plentiful resources, exceptional facilities, and support for education; a curse because of the belief that everything is wonderful and no changes are needed. The students who are struggling need to be fixed and certainly no examination is needed of the instruction or the instructors' practices. Therefore, I began this position with the best of intentions to develop a sense of continual improvement and reflective practice in a "learning community" - and the road has been filled will great opposition and many challenges. After 3 years of turbulence, I have just begun working with a "coach" who has walked me through a process to do just what you described. I am learning to examine my actions and reactions in light of what I as a person (from my past experiences) bring to my leadership role. I have learned to examine my relationships with individuals based on who they are and who I am; and I have learned it is really all about relationships. It is difficult work, but at the same time has brought me an incredible sense of calmness and focus. I am also working on my dissertation (not bringing calmness) - looking at superintendent preparation. THIS is a critical piece I believe, though I have not seen it addressed in any program.
Sue King
I began my career as a math teacher. During my first year I learned to love those horrifying moments when our class would be working through a difficult problem and I would find myself utterly lost. Once I set my ego aside, the process of working from confusion to clarity was an opportunity for us to grow our practice together. Those were often my favorite classes, the ones I miss the most now that I have moved into an administrative role.
I don't imagine I will ever look back upon disorienting "leadership trap" moments with quite the fondness that I have for those classes, but I do believe that I can learn to embrace the pain of those moments drawing confidence with the knowledge of the opportunities they offer.
I had the privilege of studying with Dr. Murphy several years ago. This work reflects what I most admired about that experience - Dr. Murphy's openness and his willingness to authentically engage in exploring the struggles of leadership. What became clear was that leadership is hard... it is lonely... it is even at time agonizing... for everyone. I know it is for me.
What if the leadership corollary of organizations "confronting the brutal facts" (in a Jim Collins sense) requires embracing the pain inherent in leadership trap moments? What if the exceptional leadership of simultaneously being on the dance floor and on the balcony (in a Ron Heifetz sense) can only happen if we first recognize that we need to get out of our own way? When I shine a harsh light upon my less-than-most-proud leadership moments (I just had one Monday), I realize that I almost always allowed myself to be hijacked by an emotional response rooted in insecurity. That insecurity, as uncomfortable as it is to admit, comes from a comparison between my self-assessment and a distorted ideal lurking somewhere in dark recesses of my psyche. And the more I self examine, the harsher my internal criticism gets and the more it derails my actions. It feels a lot like falling into the "leadership trap" to me. In contrast, the moments that have me walking out of my office at the end of the day smiling are often the times when I find the inner calmness and confidence to get out of my own way. Only then can I embrace the possibilities that are trapped within these challenging leadership moments.
Ari Betof
Director of Enrollment Management & Strategic Marketing, George School
Ed.D. Candidate, University of Pennsylvania, GSE
Is describing this phenomenon in terms of leadership a bit too constricting? I believe we've all experienced this throughout our lifetimes, in our roles of husband/wife, mother/father, son/daughter, etc.
What this describes to me is how hope betrays us. We hope to get to the airport on time, but a flat tire holds us up and we are furious. (At what?) We hope to walk into the faculty meeting and have it go well, to reinforce - what exactly? - but the letter lets us know a different outcome is looming. We hope we are what we believe we are; the pain comes when we are shown we are not.
(I saw a bumper sticker recently that said, "Don't believe everything you think!" I thought of adopting it as a school motto.)
If there is one thing I wish for all my students, it is that they develop the ability to see and accept things for what they are, without the illusions of hope or self-denigration or pride or patriotism or, as is so often the case with adolescents, fear.
Yes, this advice is well worth putting into practice. I would stress again however, that it is too good to limit to the relatively small roles of leadership. Indeed, we lead as we live, so how could it be?
Norman Maynard
Interim Head
Thornton Friends School
SilverSpring, MD
I find this to be a fascinating topic, and I am happy to find a place where it is being explored. When I think of the "leadership trap" I think of two constructs, one short-term and one long-term.
The above scenario represents the short-term mechanism. With regard to the previous comment, I'm not certain that the trap is always rooted in insecurity. In my experience, a heightened sense of certainty is just as likely the cause. At the heart of it, I believe, is a universal phenomenon that spans all interpersonal conflicts. Physiologically speaking, when the sympathetic nervous system kicks into "fight or flight" mode, the brain's neocortex, the seat of rational thought, is "hijacked" by the limbic system, the brain's emotional center. Our capacity for rational decision making is then diminished, giving way to our lower instincts, at least until the reticular activating system downshifts us back to normal. Perhaps someone from Harvard's Mind, Brain & Education institute can explain it more eloquently, but this human reaction is deeply rooted, something with which every leader has certainly had to contend, from Genghis Kahn to Gandhi. Applied to leadership, this response can feel more intense, especially when the leader has framed a situation differently than the followers with whom he or she is in conflict. It is a challenge to take what is deeply personal - since we view leadership as a vocation, not merely a job - and evaluate it impersonally, even for a moment.
The long-term effect of these stresses on leaders' mental and physical well-being likely runs deeper. I've seen accomplished leaders succumb to what Boyatzis and McKee term "sacrifice syndrome," in which the internalization of this psychological discomfort manifests itself outwardly in self-destructive behavior. I would guess've played on the edges ourselves. I'm interested to read more about Dr. Murphy's toolkit, and I'm particularly interested in how these concepts can be incorporated into leadership training. Thanks for opening up a forum for this discussion.
Frank O'Linn
Ed.D. Student, Peabody College at Vanderbilt University
This rings true in its apparent commonsense and yet, inexplicable, lack of public currency among leaders. When I had my first "bad" day of teaching, the self-talk that finally fixed me sounded like this, "You're upset because xyz happened. Today is one of those bad days. Tomorrow will be different." In talking with new teachers for years now, I still offer this advice, "some days will be better than others." Somehow, when a day like that comes, it is liberating to be able to say [with the song], "Momma said there'd be days like this." So deliberate introspection is a valuable skill. I wonder how many would agree that another one of these strategies is to have a trusted colleague who acts as a sounding board? One of the traps of leadership, it seems to me, is the isolation of only having yourself to talk to.
Albert Throckmorton
I have discovered that my training for my administrative credentials was heavily technical, highly unbalanced in the legal issues, and lamentably lacking in the real-life, substantive experiences of the job. Many times I have commented to colleagues in the midst of challenging situations, "I guess I missed this class lecture in 'principal training'." Also, during my course work, I was feeling idealistically optimistic about my motivations to serve and my successes in classroom and teacher leadership. Noone mentored me in the fine art of dealing with public misperception and every teacher's inability to view their issue in the very big picture of which I am not able to discuss the details. Also, I was not coached in the understanding that nearly every decision has the difficult potential of pleasing only half of the people on a really good day. And who is my cheerleader/encourager? Colleagues who never observe my leadership in action? Supervisors who rarely visit? I have found, to my amazement, that my critics most often feel compelled to share with me their opinion of my lack of discernment or competency, but my supporters assume I am fine without their verbal gratitude or praise. I often heard that my job would be lonely, but the reality couldn't be understood until the position was accepted. What I miss most about teaching is the tangible assessments of my efforts! My most valuable lesson thus far has bee that I needn't be pressured to hurry with most decisions. Only the most critical, life-threatening situations cannot wait for a better solution.
Barbara A. Jones
I think that Dr. Murphy has really hit the mark on this one and I also believe that Mr. Maynard is correct, these feelings do transcend leadership experiences and encroach on all aspects of our lives.
I'm reminded of my father's mantra - "...if you cannot change it don't worry about it..." I believe this to be a simple fact. Leadership is hard - there is no question about it and the isolation and deep self-criticism that comes with the position can, in fact, become counterproductive and hobbling with regard to professional/personal growth and overall effectiveness.
I believe that truly effective leaders are the those that are well aware of their personal emotional state and accept the intense difficulties that surround them daily. To become truly reflective and comfortable with our internal feelings is the ultimate "key" to avoiding the "trap".
As I read the hypothetical, I was instantly able to empathize with the situation (nothing like that related to faculty has ever happened to me -- thank goodness) however, there are instances when the impulse to "fix" everything that could be perceived to be wrong hounds us all. It is that step back and pause that allows us to analyze the situation completely and make the right moves rather than just making any move. Often the unintended consequences of snap judgments hinder us worse than the original challenge.
Though, at times, we are often believed to be "superhuman" and worse, sometimes we even act like we are, we must - to truly function optimally - embrace ourselves (and sometimes even our limitations) and become fully self-aware.
Thanks so much Dr. Murphy for bring this conversation to the forefront and thank you to the contributors to this discussion - we seem to all experience these very real challenges within our professional endeavors and ourselves.
Best to all,
Joe
Joseph Ricca, MEd, MA
Principal
East Hanover Middle School
East Hanover, NJ
It is funny how sometimes "survival" and "leadership" look a lot alike. Survival in our profession is much more than feeling better tomorrow - although that can certainly be a part of the equation. In order to survive a situation where you are personally and professionally challenged, you need to have a firm foundation and solid vision for who you are within your organization and what you stand for as a professional. Challenges can serve as great opportunities to focus on our core beliefs and to re-examine, if necessary, our actions with respect to those beliefs. Leadership frequently requires a similar course of action.
I have never been a believer in the "never let them see you bleed" philosophy, unless you are swimming with the sharks. As the leader of a team, I am far more concerned that my teammates understand where I stand, and where I do not. From that point on, we can collectively define the vision we have for our organization. Only then can we truly assess the actions of the leader - and the followers.
Jeff Jacobson
"It's about making room for the rose inside you to flower amidst the thorns." Jerry, you are a kinder and gentler soul than than I remember! What happened to the fellow who coined the phrase, "up to your ass in alligators" as a metaphor for the perils of leadership? Now that was a gladiator piece if ever there was one! But do not fret. I like where you're coming from on this issue. Tom Sergiovani would approve.
Mike Manafo, Ed.D. '98
St. John's School, Guam
"Where America's Day Begins"
This PACeD approach (Pause,Accept,Concentrate on expression,Develop) seems to be a wise approach. I work for an organization that 15 years ago became the only client ever to leave ETS and not go to another major subcontractor and live to tell about it. For many reasons, we encountered extreme difficulties. It was a "professional year from hell." During one of the lowest points, I was on the phone recounting all my difficulties to my father. After I finished, he said. "Regan, you are taking this way too seriously." I said, "Daddy, you don't understand. I could get FIRED!" He said, "That's what I mean. You are taking this way too seriously. So you get a different job." Those words were the catalyst that allowed me, after reflection, to actually go through the exact four steps of the PACeD approach. That approach liberated me from my inner turmoil and thus allowed me to do my job to the best of my ability.
Regan Kenyon
President
SSATB
Princeton, NJ
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