Management Mess to Leadership Success Challenge 2: Think Abundantly
Where is scarcity in your thinking impeding the best results? How difficult is it for you to share credit, praise, recognition, or power?
You’ve probably had occasion to dine at a buffet (except for my sophisticated wife, who abhors them). There are two schools of thought when approaching the line: first, there’s only a finite amount of food, so grab everything you want before someone else does. On the other hand, you might believe that there’s plenty of food to go around, more than anyone could possibly finish, so you can let the elderly man with the oxygen tank go ahead. There will be, in fact, enough shrimp for everyone. Remember, they arrived frozen in a 40-pound bag, after all.
It’s essentially the difference between a Scarcity Mentality (get yours before it’s gone) and an Abundance Mentality (there’s plenty to go around for everyone).
My first lesson in the power of thinking abundantly came from a colleague. I was deciding whether to move from Provo, Utah, to the ski town of Park City, about 50 miles away. Same job, just a longer commute, living in a cooler town (about as different as skim milk is from tequila). The relocation would almost double my rent, and I was trying to determine if this was a good financial decision (to be clear, it wasn’t). As I was talking with this work friend, he said something I will never forget: “You’ll never have enough until you define how much is enough.” I’ve shared that aphorism with countless friends, because it speaks to the heart of abundance thinking. Define “enough,” or you’ll be constantly worried you don’t have it.
My second lesson was a little more brutal and, appropriately enough for our culinary metaphor, happened over lunch. (I have a proven method for choosing restaurants for business meetings. If I expect the exchange to be high-stakes, I like being in a secluded booth on neutral ground. I never have difficult conversations in my favorite restaurants, so I can distance the emotion of the meeting from my affinity for the food.)
On this occasion, I had scheduled lunch at one of my favorite restaurants, Cracker Barrel, because I was expecting a pleasant meal with one of my most trusted team members, Jimmy. Imagine my surprise when he ordered his country-fried steak and said, “Scott, I’m tired of you taking credit for all of my projects.”
That sentence needs no translation. Further context? Yes, please.
Jimmy continued by sharing specific instances where he felt I had overshadowed his work: announcing the results of a campaign he’d led, talking up a product launch he’d planned, etc. In each case, I had never even mentioned his contribution.
My first instinct was to disagree, and with a healthy dose of indignation. The old me certainly would have done that—I used to pride myself on telling people the way things were, damn the consequences. But working at FranklinCovey had changed me, and I inhaled a measured breath between the stimulus of the moment and my chosen response. I did my best to validate Jimmy’s concern and commit to being more aware of the issue.
After lunch, I began to unpack what he’d said. How much of it was true? Certainly, I had no reason to hoard credit. At that point in my career, my influence in the firm was substantial and my track record with the CEO and the board was exceptional. Was I so insecure that I needed more attention and accolades than I already had? Was reaching up for that next rung on the career ladder more important than helping someone else up? Had I really, consciously or subconsciously, managed my brand, reputation, and career at his expense?
I believe the executive team would tell you that, in their presence, I frequently lift others up and acknowledge their contributions. But what happens in a closed-door session with management doesn’t always get passed on to other employees. So, what went wrong this time?
I had failed to think abundantly.
It’s human nature to feel scarcity when we fear we won’t have enough — money, gifts, attention, praise, fill in the blank. Was there really a finite amount of credit in the firm? Clearly, no. To use the buffet metaphor, I kept ladling “credit” on my plate like a pile of shrimp. Not only had I not stopped to consider “what was enough,” I was driven by a scarcity mindset that made me fearful of missing out. Worst of all, I wasn’t even aware that I thought that way.
After my conversation with Jimmy, I made a conscious effort to publicly praise anyone who truly warranted it, and share credit when my team had shone independent of me. I haven’t always been perfect since then, but by remembering the principle of abundance, I believe I’ve become a more gracious, generous, and respectful leader. And not only do I not miss out, I’ve found more reward in the accomplishments of others.
