Workplace Warrior

People Skills for the No-Bullshit Executive

Jordan Goldrich

• Publisher: Greenleaf Book Group Press
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781626346529
• Topic: Business
• Subtopic: Leadership
• Index: Business

Are you a leader who has been called abrasive, aggressive, or even a bully? This book is written for—rather than about—you.

You have probably noticed that many, if not most authors and speakers who deal with this subject refer to leaders like you with demeaning names, because they think you need to be more respectful. Jordan Goldrich challenges this irony—or perhaps hypocrisy—by recognizing that, in reality, you possess a warrior spirit that is crucial to the success of organizations in our current VUCA environment (volatility, uncertainty, complexity, and ambiguity).

Goldrich acknowledges that (just like himself) these leaders are imperfect human beings whose leadership or communication styles can sometimes create a negative impact. But he also acknowledges an important truth—that they bring unique value to the workplace and to society.

His challenge to you, in this book, is to become a better leader by measuring yourself against the greatest warriors on the planet: the Navy SEALs, the Green Berets, and the rest of the special operations community—because you have something in common with them. Like you, these heroes have an uncommon desire to succeed, are committed to taking charge, and are focused on accomplishing the mission. In addition, they commit to humbly serve and to place the welfare and security of others before their own. Goldrich shows you how to do the same.

Some of the author's advice revolves around the clever use of the phrase, "The Least You Can Do." If you are interested in doing the least you can do to be both authentic and protect yourself in a politically correct, over-protective world, you will find what you need in Workplace Warrior. If, on the other hand, you want to do the least you can do in the sense that it is the right thing to do, you will find resources to authentically take your leadership to a higher level.

Human resources executives, executive coaches, and people who work with and for leaders labeled as abrasive or bullies will find a unique perspective on these leaders' motivations and mindsets—and will then be able to do their part in building collaborative relationships with their colleagues.

CHAPTER 1

HOW I GOT SMACKED IN THE HEAD AND DECIDED TO DO THE LEAST I CAN DO

The phone rang, and I heard my boss’s voice.

“Jordan, can you come to my office?”

I walked down the hall, knocked, and went in. There, sitting with my boss was the vice president of human resources, whose office was a three-hour drive from ours.

Being a quick study, I thought, This is not good.

My boss proceeded to tell me she was terminating my employment for mismanaging my budget. I was confused, because I had been raising questions about the size of the overhead number corporate finance had included in my budget. I knew something was wrong, and I had requested information to determine what it was. I never got the information.

The human resources VP, like any competent HR professional, said something like, “We are not going to discuss this today; the decision has been made.”

I was walked out the door. It was the first time I had ever been fired. I was in shock.

A week passed, and I was in a local bagel shop, where I happened to run into the consultant from the finance unit who had been working with me.

“Jordan, I owe you an apology.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Do you remember the conversations where you told me that something was wrong with your overhead and I looked at you as if I didn’t know what you were talking about?”

“Yes.”

“And do you remember requesting a breakdown of your overhead, but I never gave it to you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I did know what you were talking about, but I was told by our boss that I would lose my job if I told you or gave you the breakdown.”

I was surprised but not stunned. I hadn’t had a good relationship with my boss for a long time. I had seen her to be indirect—if not dishonest—before, and while I respected her expertise, I didn’t respect what I perceived was her lack of integrity.

I went outside and sat in my car to take in what I had just heard. It was about 90 degrees. I was sweating, and my mind was racing. I began to think about how this had come about. I believed I had clear evidence that I had been set up. Who would deny that I had a right to feel angry and victimized? I experienced a combination of rage and disbelief.

Man, she got me, I thought.

But I dislike feeling bitter and victimized—a lot—so I said to myself, “OK, big shot. See if you can actually apply the viewpoint you have communicated with others over the years.” As a therapist and consultant, I had suggested that if you need other people to change in order to feel good about yourself, that is the path to disappointment, bitterness, and victimization. Success and fulfillment is based on focusing on what you can control.

I began my self-examination, using the words of wisdom in Viktor Frankl’s book Man’s Search for Meaning. Dr. Frankl was a Jewish psychiatrist who had been in a concentration camp. His book is about the kinds of reactions and survival strategies he observed in himself and in others. He said several things that have had immense meaning to me regarding how to face adversity:

• “He who has a why to live for can bear with almost any how.” (Quote is from Nietzsche.)

• “It is not freedom from conditions, but it is freedom to take a stand toward the conditions.”

• “[It does] not really matter what we expected from life, but rather what life expected from us. We [need] to stop asking about the meaning of life, and instead to think of ourselves as those who were being questioned by life—daily and hourly.”

• “When we are no longer able to change a situation—just think of an incurable disease such as inoperable cancer—we are challenged to change ourselves.”

I had to admit that while I had been “got” by my boss in a dishonest way, I was not in a concentration camp, so I had much to be grateful for. I was certainly concerned about the impact on my wife and on my family’s finances. I knew I would face many challenges, but none would be life threatening. I did not want to let myself sink into a pit of anger and bitterness.

So I decided to take Dr. Frankl’s words of wisdom to heart and choose another path. I started by thinking about the mindset I offer to my clients when they have been subjected to unfair treatment or experienced painful circumstances.

Dr. Frankl said that one of the keys to coming through adversity is having a purpose. Simon Sinek and others now refer to this as having a why. I knew that my why had something to do with making a positive impact on the world, but I had not fully articulated it. I had been too busy taking care of making myself successful.

I started by considering what life might be asking of me. I asked myself the questions I used with my counseling and consulting clients who experienced mistreatment and misfortune:

• What did I control in this situation?

• Is there anything I could have done to achieve a different outcome?

Regarding the question, ”What did I control?” I had to admit that I hadn’t respected my boss’s integrity for quite a while and that I had let this show. I had not used profanity or disrespectful language. Nor had I been insubordinate. But I certainly had challenged what I saw as problems in her plans of action, both privately and in meetings. And there were certainly times when my tone was critical.

Throughout our professional relationship, I knew that she wanted more deference than I was giving her. I had felt justified in my way of relating to her because of what I saw as gaps in her integrity. After all, why should I have to worry about my attitude and tone with someone who does not deserve it?

I also had to admit that, throughout my life and career, supervisors, coaches, and friends had warned me that I needed to be less opinionated and more respectful, that I needed to be more willing to be part of the team. One of my early mentors once told me, “Shut up when other people don’t want to hear what you think is your obviously correct point of view.”

During these conversations, I had often thought, “I can’t believe that people are upset about my tone and not about the fact that this person is not doing their job or not thinking clearly.” And, to be truthful, I did not see how I would have the energy to constantly manage my tone and work my tail off. After all, I was getting results. Wasn’t that what mattered most? Wasn’t the requirement that I dance around the truth with people who were not thinking clearly, not performing, or acting without integrity just a bunch of politically correct bullshit?

So, on that 90-degree summer day, it hit me that if I did not want to feel victimized and miserable for the next 10 years, I needed to treat this situation as if I were being smacked in the head by a two-by-four with the message Cut it out.

I made a commitment to close the valve on my internal pressure cooker that had allowed me to rationalize being impatient, frustrated, and sarcastic with others when the stress got high. It was the commitment that I was missing. When I simply removed the permission I had given myself to be abrasive, I was able to significantly lower the amount of frustration and impatience in my words and tone.

Don’t get me wrong. My friends and colleagues I have met in recent years still think I can be overly direct and sometimes tactless. But people who knew me 20 years ago think I have become a different person.

Let me give you some background on how I got here.

I grew up in a family that was loud, even by New York standards. I remember being 11 years old and going to my apartment on the ninth floor with my friend after playing stickball in the playground.

As we got off the elevator, he said, “I don’t think we should go in.”

“Why?” I said.

“Because your parents are fighting.”

I paused to listen to their loud, impatient tone and exasperated, even disrespectful words and said, “They’re not fighting. They’re talking to each other.”

It was simply the way I learned to communicate.

My family expressed itself in many ways that, as I learned later, would result in negative reactions in most cultures within the United States and the rest of the world. For some reason, it took me a long time to understand this.

When I was 12 years old, I decided it was time to express my political opinion at a family gathering. After I did, my psychiatrist uncle, Seymour, said, “Jordan, you’re a moron.” Now, I did not think for one second that Seymour thought I was a moron. I knew he loved and respected me. This was my family’s typical way of saying You haven’t thought this through.

(Today, the word moron has become an offensive and unacceptable term to refer to people with intellectual disabilities. I guarantee you that my family did not intend this meaning. I have chosen not to change it here, because I want to give you a true sense of my family culture and the kinds of communication that got wired into my brain. I recognize the sensitivity of using this term and hope that no one is offended.)

So, over the years, my brain became programmed to trigger disrespectful things I should say during discussions, debates, and arguments. It is not easy to change long-term habits that are wired into your brain’s neural pathways.

Although our tone and language seemed disrespectful, my family believed that all people should be respected. I recognize that this is counterintuitive, but it was true.

I grew up in a city housing project that provided partial rent subsidies for returning World War II veterans. (Although he was a podiatrist, my father was not a successful businessman.) Everyone I knew was working class. The project had people of many nationalities, races, and religions. I was taught to focus on a person’s character and not their religion or background, the color of their skin, their sexual orientation, or anything else.

My family culture involved what New York working people might call straight talk. When someone said something you thought was stupid, you told them directly that it was stupid. The style was wired into my brain through years of practice. According to current research, there may be a genetic factor as well.

Sitting that day in my car in the 90-degree heat, I realized that my style of communication was not consistent with my core value of respect for all people. I made the commitment that, going forward, I would communicate with compassion and respect for the human being in front of me, regardless of how much I disagreed with their thinking or behavior. Today, I refer to this as making the commitment to cultivate compassion for people my brain is telling me do not deserve it.

Many of the driven, results-oriented executives I have worked with or coached are religious people who believe their job on Earth is to do God’s will. From St. Augustine to Mahatma Gandhi and the Dalai Lama, philosophers and prophets have said some version of “love the sinner but hate the sin.”

What I have discovered is that when I am successful at fulfilling my commitment to be compassionate and respectful regardless of what the other person is doing or saying, I am actually more influential and more powerful than when I am undisciplined enough to follow the preprogrammed suggestions my brain makes about what I should say.

Treating people with respect does not mean letting them off the hook. The executives I coach who are not identified as abrasive are often uncomfortable giving negative feedback. I often hear something like, “I am not ready to be that direct. I don’t want to discourage them.” My experience is that when you tell people that their performance or behavior does not meet ...