Lesson 8: The Last Thing You Do in the Office
Clayton Christensen passed away earlier this year. Those of you that know me, know that it would be impossible for me to summarize what I learned from Clay in a short article. There isn’t one lesson. There are years of everyday observations of how to be a better thinker, friend, and most importantly person. It is impossible to know who I would be today if it weren’t for my years camped outside the good professor’s office.
Many of Clay’s most important ideas were captured in articles or books. But there is one lesson that I have taken with me through every day of my leadership journey. From the moment I left Clay’s employ and started managing people, one phrase was top of mind.
The last thing you do in the office is the first thing someone remembers when he walks over the threshold into his home.
Clay appreciated the nobility of general management. In his mind, the classes of graduates he’d send off into the world were all embarking on a journey towards leading large organizations. Despite the many consultants, bankers, and aspiring investment professionals in the audience at his last lectures, Clay would regularly tear up as he spoke of the impact great managers had on the world. After all, leadership is the act of impacting the lives of individual people. And the positive impact that one could have on other human beings was forever the gauge of accomplishment that Clay used to evaluate success.
In my second year at his think tank, Clay and I had a conversation in his office. Normally these conversations meandered a bit. This one took a turn towards my hopes and aspirations. I always liked to lead teams — and mentioned that openly. Clay, as only he could do, joked how wonderful that was and how he’d tried to lead big organizations earlier in his career but always preferred being locked in his office thinking about strategy. (Before becoming the world’s foremost business thinker, Clay founded and IPO’d an advanced materials company as its CEO. So naturally, I found his statement a bit funny).
Clay spent a little while talking about what was so honorable about managing people — but also what was so counterintuitive. In many respects, leading was about amplifying decision making throughout the organization. It was about establishing reliable frameworks and teaching people across an organization to think. And it was about preparing the team to act together. Conceptually, this was something I understood. I’d heard all Clay’s stories about Andy Grove and the investment he made in educating his leadership team on how to approach a problem.
But it wasn’t until Clay shared one personal story that it really hit me. Things I’d never paid any attention to before would define my ability to lead effectively.
Clay recounted a bad day at the company where he formerly served as Chief Executive. It was a Friday, and he had a bad meeting with a team. He was sure that everyone left to go home disappointed. The next day was the employee picnic. As he was sitting on a hill with his family watching people come in for the event, he saw one of his research scientists walk into the venue with her family. In that moment he realized that the bad meeting he’d had — and the disappointment that he let flow in the moment wasn’t just her last experience in the office. It was the first thing on her mind when she saw her children when she arrived home. His actions as a leader weren’t just about executing in the office. His small behaviors reverberated through the lives of his team. That provided the opportunity for a massively positive impact in his employees lives but also reminded him of the risk.
Over the years that exchange stuck with me. Why? Simply put, a bad meeting can be a common thing in the world of business. That was the first time I’d thought deeply about the impact of things I’d thought before were so benign. Since that conversation, I’ve worked hard not to forget that lesson.
When we start any investment meeting inside my group, we begin with the same context. We’re on the same team, we believe in these values, and we’re trying to deliver growth for SAP. The room should be safe, but uncomfortable. Why? Because we know that what our teams expect through that meeting dictate how they feel when they walk out of the door. And that is the first thing they remember when they arrive home.
Clay taught me that management is a noble endeavor. He also was the one who showed me what it was really about. Not the lessons in finance, strategy, or operations that we taught at the Harvard Business School. It was about the people you served. And you always had to keep in mind that the last thing you do in the office as a leader is the first thing on your team’s mind when they cross the threshold at night.
