Seven Secrets of the Savvy School Leader

A Guide to Surviving and Thriving

Robert Evans

• Publisher: Jossey-Bass
• Year: 2010
• Print ISBN:
  9780470507322
• eBook ISBN:
  9780470593080
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Education
• Subtopic: Leadership in Education

The keys to having an outstanding career as a school leader.

The American educational system is in crisis; trends of recent years have been extraordinarily hard on educators. An entire generation of school leaders is retiring, many of them early, and the number of candidates applying to replace them is plummeting. In many districts, applications have shrunk by nearly two-thirds. Seven Secrets of The Savvy School Leader hopes to counteract these glum statistics by giving both aspiring and experienced school leaders important survival tools, and encouraging long-term leaders to renew their faith in their own abilities.

• Describes the innate tensions inherent in leadership
• Explores the difference between dilemmas and problems
• Encourages leaders to make change by making meaning
• Offers guidance for being your best and bold self

Written an expert on school leadership who has worked closely with thousands of schools over the years, the book will help anyone serving as or considering becoming a school administrator.

Chapter One

The First Secret

When You Go to See the Wizard, Take Toto

America is a nation of believers, ready to place their faith in . . . workplace fads that inspire revivalist fervor, then fade away.

—Annie Murphy Paul¹

LEADERS ALL OVER AMERICA KEEP SEARCHING FOR PEOPLE to tell them what to do. Like chronic dieters, anxious parents, eager investors, and earnest seekers of personal growth, they keep searching for the Answer, the Method, the Book, the Seminar—the key that will enable them to inspire their people and transform their organizations. Many make this a habit; they are perennially easy prey for the peddlers of miracle management cures. They are readily found in all fields and certainly in education. But there are exceptions, leaders whom I think of as savvy. Savvy school leaders don’t seek serial saviors. They are often skeptics. They’re not full-time skeptics and they’re certainly not cynics, but they’ve learned to be wary of false prophets and promises. They, too, turn to gurus for advice, but rarely. And they know that whenever they do, they should, like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, take along a small terrier.

In the film classic, Dorothy, played by Judy Garland, is a Kansas farm girl who is transported to a magical land by a tornado and embarks on a quest to find the Wizard of Oz, hoping he can help her return home. She and her companions, the Tin Man, the Scarecrow, and the Cowardly Lion, find the Emerald City of Oz and reach the Wizard, but he refuses to help them until they bring him the broomstick of the Wicked Witch of the West. They do, but he still berates and bullies them until Toto, Dorothy’s dog, tugs aside the curtain that hides him, revealing him to be nothing but an old man using tawdry magician’s tricks and a microphone. Undone, he blusters, “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.” But it’s too late. The Wizard, they see, is a “humbug.” A savvy leader could have told them.

America has produced a long line of management wizards. Over the past thirty years they have proliferated. Not all have been humbugs, but too many have been gross exaggerators. Many of their prescriptions have not only failed to fulfill their promises, they have turned out to be little more than passing fads. Although veteran educators often think of their field as uniquely prone to faddism—recurring cycles of “reform” in which old ideas keep returning with new names—corporate America is every bit as susceptible to the same phenomenon. Alas, there has been a growing tendency to import popular corporate leadership fads and models into education and to treat leadership itself as a kind of technology, a list of functions, techniques, and styles. These trends have been seductive to many, but the wisest school leaders have resisted them.

When More Is Less: Leadership Fads

It might seem that the knowledge base about leadership has never been greater. Countless books and articles have been published about it, including thousands about educational leadership alone. More corporate managers than ever have MBA degrees; more school administrators than ever have doctorates. Management is now widely seen as an applied science, and being an executive or administrator has come to mean acquiring and applying a body of theory and a set of skills. These skills are typically seen as portable: once versed in the proper techniques of structuring work and supervising people, and so on, leaders can employ these in a variety of settings: a bank, an insurance company, a hospital—or a school district.

Given all this, one might expect most of our companies, schools, and other organizations to be well run and the need for management advice books to decline. Not so. The books on leadership just keep multiplying. As Peter Vaill has noted, people everywhere continue to find their organizations “mysterious, recalcitrant, intractable, unpredictable, paradoxical, absurd, and—unless it’s your own ox getting gored—funny.”² Scott Adams continues to find fertile ground for his satire of organizational life in his Dilbert comic strip.

Good leadership remains as elusive as it is important; it still resists capture. In this it resembles Justice Potter Stewart’s famous characterization of pornography: we know it when we see it, but it’s extremely hard to define. Good leadership can be felt all through an organization, says Warren Bennis. In well-led organizations people feel that they make a significant contribution and that what they do has meaning; that they are part of a team or a family; that mastery and competence matter; that work is exciting and challenging.³ In well-led organizations morale and commitment are high even in the face of hardship.

But though its impact is palpable, and though most of us feel we know a good leader when we meet one, the essence of leadership remains unclear. Is it a matter of skill or charisma? Of science or art? Of politics or principle? Are its methods universally applicable or situation-specific? Are leaders born or made? The answer to all these questions is, Yes. Leadership appears to be all these and more. Writing in 1985, Bennis and Bert Nanus noted that despite thousands of empirical studies yielding more than 850 definitions of leadership there was still no consensus about it. We still didn’t know conclusively what distinguished leaders from nonleaders and strong leaders from weak ones.⁴ More than twenty years later, we have even more studies and definitions, but are still no closer to a consensus.

This uncertainty has helped to sustain an enduring market for leadership fads and gurus. As they plan strategy and solve problems, leaders, especially those who want to be up to date, have a propensity to apply methods and techniques that are current in management circles. But as Matthew Stewart and other critics have observed, much of management theory, for all its claims to scientific and empirical gravitas, is essentially a kind of self-help literature. Like popular personal growth and parenting books, popular management and leadership books are faddish: they dress shallow and recycled advice in flashy new names; enjoy, in most cases, a relatively brief celebrity; then fade away. The fads succeed each other in a kind of carousel, Matthew Stewart says, emphasizing first one theme then another,⁵ but none has proven to be an enduring silver bullet.

The gurus’ flaws begin with selection bias—they typically generalize broadly from a narrow, hand-picked sample of leaders, describing a certain group of innovators who apparently succeeded using a particular approach or style. But this doesn’t prove that all leaders who use this approach or style always succeed, no matter what circumstances they face (a caution that applies to some of the secrets this book recommends, as Chapter Five acknowledges). Similarly, the gurus often confuse correlation with causality. That employees of successful companies are happy, for example, doesn’t prove that the companies succeeded because they made their employees happy; it may be that the employees are happy because the company is doing well.

More problematic is the gurus’ tendency to adopt criteria for success that are simplistic and ignore or underplay the extent to which organizational success depends upon external factors that are unpredictable and unmanageable. Take, for example, Jim Collins, author of the runaway bestseller Good to Great and the dominant management wizard of the twenty-first century’s first decade. Collins claimed to have avoided other gurus’ methodological errors by, among other steps, analyzing a large range of companies to select eleven that qualified as leaping from good to great and by contrasting these with other similar companies that failed to make this leap. He claimed, too, that the factors he identified that led to their success were “immutable laws of organized human performance,” and compared them to the laws of physics.⁶

But Collins’s criterion for greatness could hardly have been shallower: stock price. He defined a great company as one whose stock outperformed the general market by three hundred percent over a fifteen-year period. Is stock price truly the proof of leadership and organizational excellence? Do well-led companies always fare well in the market, while poorly led companies always fare poorly? If so, how do we account for the fact that altering Collins’s fifteen-year window by just a few months virtually eliminates his companies’ exceptional stock performance?⁷ Or for the fact that every one of his great companies saw its stock plummet during the 2008-2009 financial meltdown and that two of them, Fannie Mae and Circuit City, not only don’t look great anymore, they look awful? Fannie Mae turned out to be abysmally led and was a major contributor to the sub-prime mortgage disaster that helped ravage the American economy; bailing it out is costing taxpayers billions. As for Circuit City, after being consistently outperformed by its rival Best Buy ever since Good to Great appeared, it went out of business. We can’t expect Collins to have foreseen the collapse of the economy and its impact on stock prices. We can question his measure of leadership excellence. And we can note that an organization’s fortunes—not just its failures but its successes—often depend not just on its leadership but on factors its leadership can neither anticipate nor control. (As Chapter Four will note, these kinds of factors loom especially large in schools.)

An equally serious flaw in the leadership fads, as Stewart points out, is not that the gurus’ recommendations are so wrong but that so many are too right, “obvious in the extreme,” as a principal friend of mine says. There is no harm in recommending simple or old truths—at least I hope not, as that’s some of what this book does. It is something else again to pretend that these are new discoveries or to recommend empty truisms. Yet too often, as Stewart notes, the supposed experts offer a corporate version of the kind of “toothless wisdom” peddled by self-help writers—“quasi-religious dicta on the virtue of being good at what you do,” illustrated by “parables (otherwise known as case studies),” and accompanied by exhortations that boil down to “Think harder!, Work smarter!” and the like.⁸ Throughout, the gurus worship fervently and predictably at the altar of innovation, frequently with grandiose inanity. The field is littered with titles like First Break All the Rules and The Pursuit of Wow! and such pronouncements as “[Our approach] means re-thinking everything, everything!” and “Blow up [your own company] before the competition does.”⁹

Finally, in addition to these weaknesses, the popular leadership fads typically have much less relevance to schools than to corporations. They are never developed in—or tailored to—educational settings. Nonetheless they are routinely foisted on school administrators. Since at least the 1980s there has been a predictable life cycle for a school leadership fad:

1. It begins outside of education, developed by management experts from studies of gifted business leaders or, occasionally, by political scientists from studies of gifted historical figures.

2. It gains favor in corporate America and becomes all the rage in management writing. Its key concepts and phrases (“thinking outside the box,” “silos,” “metrics,” “benchmarking,” “fox and hedgehog”) become commonplace.

3. As it nears what later turns out to have been its peak of popularity, policymakers and professors of education decide to apply it to schools, even if it has little apparent relevance there.

4. It heats up in educational circles as it cools in the corporate world, showing hitherto unnoticed weaknesses.

5. It is misapplied in education, either through slavish rigidity (failing to modify the model to fit schools’ unique characteristics) or false clarity (adopting the nominal form of the innovation but not its true substance).

6. Well after it has lost its cachet in the business world, it lingers on in vestigial form in schools and schools of education until its popularity finally subsides there, too.

Remember Total Quality Management (TQM)? I have long cited it as a textbook example of this life cycle. It took corporate America by storm in the 1980s, and once this happened, it was inevitable that TQM would be applied to schools, even though some of its key concepts, such as “zero defects,” simply aren’t relevant there. About the time that its popularity began to accelerate in education, articles began to appear in the business press pointing out that TQM was not a panacea after all (among other things, it requires high levels of cooperation among employees, which can sag both when a company falls on hard times and layoffs loom and when employees’ jobs are well protected and their motivation is low). Notions of “quality” and “continuous improvement,” often ill-defined, are now enshrined in the leadership lexicon, but TQM itself soon lost its luster in management circles—and then finally in education. Collins’s “good to great” approach has been enjoying the same status that TQM once did, but several years ago it started becoming popular among school leaders—superintendents and school heads across the country began having their boards read the book. This suggested to me that it might soon be waning in the corporate world. Sure enough, critics have begun pointing out the flaws noted above, as well as others in Collins’s work.

The List of Functions Approach

Despite critiques like mine, there is broad agreement that management is, if not an applied science, a technical profession. Leading any kind of organization is widely understood to be, at least in good part, a learnable list of functions or skills. Researchers study successful managers and build an inventory of tasks or capacities (planning, budgeting, supervision, and so on) that are supposed to capture the essentials of the executive role. In education, the simplest version of this approach has been the following:

1. Find schools where pupils are achieving more than what might be predicted by their backgrounds.

2. Observe principals in those schools and find out what they are doing.

3. Identify these behaviors as “desirable traits.”

4. Devise training programs to develop these traits in all principals.

5. Enlist principals in these programs.

This model, as Roland Barth has pointed out, is straightforward, compelling, logical—and surprisingly ineffective, because conditions in one school are seldom similar to those in another¹⁰ and, as we shall see below, because few people can readily develop new traits and shed old ones.

A more complex version of this approach creates elaborate functional classifications. A typical example I came across years ago was a manual, Principals for Our Changing Schools. Its creators began with both a “task analysis of the principalship,” results of which were reviewed by focus groups of administrators, and a “conceptual model and ‘Taxonomy of Standards’” developed by academics. It then integrated the two, had this composite reviewed by industrial psychologists and further refined by other experts, and ultimately produced a model of the principalship that divides it into four major themes (organizational, programmatic, interpersonal, and contextual) and twenty-one separate performance domains. States have followed suit. Massachusetts, for example, adopted regulations for the evaluation of administrators that identify six general “principles of effective administrative leadership,” covering twenty-seven different areas reflected in ninety-two descriptors of ideal behaviors and skills.¹¹

Embedded in these taxonomies, notes Thomas Sergiovanni, is the expectation that the leader be adept at applying three sources of authority:

1. Bureaucratic. This emphasizes formal position and official power. It relies on rules and regulations, roles and expectations. It assumes that supervisors are more expert than staff and that accountability should be external. Sergiovanni summarizes this approach to leadership as “expect and inspect.”¹²

2. Technical. This emphasizes logic and research and prizes technical knowledge and objective evidence over experience and personal judgment. It relies on research data to shape practice in standardized ways, and calls for careful monitoring and supervision, but it appeals to expertise. I would summarize this approach as “logic and research.”

3. Psychological. This emphasizes cooperation and...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Introduction
• Author’s Note
• Chapter One - The First Secret
• Chapter Two - THE SECOND SECRET
• Chapter Three - The Third Secret
• Chapter Four - The Fourth Secret
• Chapter Five - The Fifth Secret
• Chapter Six - The Sixth Secret
• Chapter Seven - The Seventh Secret
• Endnotes
• References
• Index