I remember attending a steering committee meeting for a large technology program I was running a few years ago.
One of the senior executives was quizzing me on various aspects of the program, and chastising me for several issues that had occurred over the past month.
Those sorts of meetings have always held an interesting dynamic for me. I can almost feel something in the air that signals that this conversation will not be like other conversations.
For one thing, they are very one-sided.
As my adversary delivered his monologue about our various challenges and shortcomings, something dawned on me.
He didn’t really know what he was talking about.
It’s not that he was making factual errors, or that he wasn’t making sense. He actually seemed to be quite an eloquent and intelligent person.
It’s just that he was talking in generalities, without really understanding the specifics of the challenges we were dealing with.
And all the while, it was obvious that my response was not supposed to be a rebuttal, or to provide a rock-solid argument as to why I was actually doing a great job. My response was simply supposed to be an acknowledgement that the program wasn’t currently performing very well, and thank you, sir, for pointing that out.
After the strikes of the verbal cane had ceased, it felt like my correct response was to say “Please sir, may I have another?”
The assumption of someone better.
These types of interactions can be damaging to the confidence.
They’re based on a simple premise – that there is someone else who would be doing better than you are.
You could be dealing with a million complexities, financial challenges, underperforming people and even earthquakes, and you’d still be met with responses like “if you’d done it this way, this mess wouldn’t have happened” or “why didn’t you do it this way instead?”
Of course, with the benefit of hindsight, anyone can use that sort of argument to make you feel small.
The problem begins when you start to believe it.
When you start to buy into the argument that you should have seen this coming. That you should have done something different and you’d be successful now.
Soon enough, that line of thinking starts to snowball.
If I had more experience… if I was more qualified… if I was more intelligent… if I had more resilience… if I wasn’t so anxious.
Before long, you’ve convinced yourself that yep, maybe you’re just not the right woman or man for this job.
But this premise is flawed. Because all the person is doing is imagining a positive future state where nothing went wrong, and asking “why didn’t you take us there?”
It’s true that maybe there is someone more capable than you out there, who would have done a great job and avoided the issues.
But in reality we can never know that, so we have a choice – to beat ourselves up about it, or to move on, shrug our shoulders and say “maybe someone could’ve done better… but maybe not”.
Authority starts the snowball.
So what are the conditions that enable this situation to occur?
It seems to me that it’s a dangerous cocktail of authority, ego and a public forum in which to play it all out.
Authority is an interesting construct.
On the one hand, formal authority helps to create some sort of order. We need someone to make the final decision, to be able to provide unassailable direction or to take the blame.
But the idea of authority presupposes that the person who is granted it is the best person to have it. That is, they’re the most intelligent, capable and experienced to use that authority wisely and provide responsible guidance. Or at least they are enough of these things to merit that authority.
Unfortunately, these conditions aren’t always fulfilled.
We see many examples of authority being granted to those who have tenure, ambition and a pulse.
What happens when the script gets flipped?
In my steering committee, it felt like I was part of a play that had already been written. I’m simply there to recite my lines, which position me as the inadequate program manager and the executive as the wise and insightful authority.
When you’re in such a forum, it’s easy to see that the correct response is not to push back or challenge your aggressor. It’s to succumb to the barrage and wait until it’s all over.
So what happens when you flip the script, and push back?
I’ve taken this route several times during my career, and while it temporarily feels good to get things off your chest, I can tell you that it isn’t usually a sustainable path to success.
Because that’s not what’s supposed to happen.
You’re meant to take your lashes and lie there. Not tell the boss that he actually doesn’t have a clue what he’s on about, and ask how the heck did he ever obtain his position in the first place.
No, diplomacy is the key to remaining employed for the longer term.
And it’s this invisible force field that protects people in positions of authority from the scrutiny and pushback that they sometimes deserve.
What would happen if we got rid of authority?
Let’s do a simple thought experiment. Suppose, for example, that we removed the concept of authority.
That is, people keep their positions in the hierarchy – people still have a manager, and there are still teams within organisations.
But what would happen if we removed the part where subordinates were required to follow the direction of people senior to them? So there was no requirement for people to obey orders?
Would we have chaos? Would everything fall apart? Or would things still work, or even work better?
Let’s see.
If you perceive your manager as incompetent, there’s a good chance you wouldn’t go along with his suggestions.
But if you believe your manager is quite skilled and capable, why wouldn’t you take his lead?
If your manager dismissed your ideas without reason or simply never asked for them, it’s likely that you wouldn’t trust her direction, because she’s ignoring your expertise.
But if your manager engaged in a productive discussion about the best path to take and came to a sensible conclusion, why wouldn’t you choose to follow?
Perhaps your manager has shown a disregard for your personal wellbeing or priorities – in the case where we remove authority, it’s not likely you’d be committed to helping someone like that.
On the flipside, if your manager was supportive and conscious of your current challenges, you’d probably have the goodwill to support them in what they wanted to do.
So we might say that if you perceive a person to be competent, participative, supportive and respectful, you’d be much more willing to follow their lead.
The perception is the problem.
A suitable ending to this article might appear to be that if we’re competent, participative, supportive and respectful, we don’t need authority for people to follow us.
They’ll simply follow because it seems like a good option.
This is a nice idea, and I think there’s a nice ring of truth to it – but it isn’t the whole picture, because there’s a problem.
The problem of perception.
These factors only hold true if everybody perceives them the same way… which is almost never the case.
Even in my steering committee meeting, you could accuse my perception of being warped. Perhaps the executive really did know more about our challenges than it seemed, and his criticism was justified.
And if you think your boss is incompetent, underqualified or as thick as ten copies of the Lord of the Rings all stacked together, can we trust your perception?
Or are you just jealous because you didn’t get that promotion you wanted? Or do you have limited visibility of the challenges that are creating pressure-points for them?
In the case of a long-term working relationship, you might say that yes – my judgement is pretty spot on about my manager.
But it’s in the cases where we don’t have time to form an accurate judgement that we can come unstuck. And it’s here where authority can play a helpful role.
When the policeman gives me a ticket, I don’t have the luxury of making an assessment to see whether I think he’s capable or not. The uniform, car and badge acts as a proxy that tells me he should be obeyed.
And when that board member that you’ve never met criticises your latest proposal for your important project, the fact that they’re on the board in the first place tells us that they have experience and knowledge which helped them get there, without having to win you over first.
It can be hard to criticise authority from the outside
Some aspects of being a worthy authority can be easily critiqued from the outside.
For example, if someone is building a bridge for me, I can see whether he is a registered Engineer and has current qualifications.
I can also check to see whether he has enough bridge-building experience.
But wait, there’s that perception problem again. Am I the best judge of how much bridge-building experience is enough? Possibly not.
That’s why it’s hard to critique authority from the outside, unless you look for the tangible signs that are easily observed.
Whether someone is competent and intelligent enough to deserve their authority can be difficult to know.
The problem isn’t authority – it’s who gets to have it.
We are granted authority in many facets of life.
As a parent, you are in a position of authority.
Or perhaps you’re a dog owner – you’re responsible for your dog.
As a manager, you have the authority to direct your team.
And as a referee in a sporting contest, you have the authority to make that close call to decide who wins the game.
Your level of authority changes as you switch between the various roles in your life.
There will always be people who are undeserving of their authority, whether it’s because of their intent or their ability to fulfil the role.
But for the rest of us, the most important thing is that you’ve earned your authority.
And that you can critique your authority from the inside, and continue to do the work to justify holding it.
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