Issue 96 - Investing in Human Capital
To commemorate my 50th birthday, we threw a big party and invited some very special guests. The criteria for receiving an invitation to this birthday
celebration was relatively simple. If my life had been made, in some
discernable way, better as a result of the relationship I shared with the
person, they were invited.
Two of the guests who chose to attend have been critically important in my
career, and ultimately, my life. These two gentlemen made the decision to
hire me for my first supervisory job way back in 1980, just months
following my graduation from Murray State University (and from Harry
Wendlestedt’s Professional Baseball Umpiring school, but that’s a story
for another day). For the next four years they consistently nurtured,
mentored, monitored and encouraged my on-going professional development.
I can say today, more than 27 years later, they were the best bosses I have
ever worked for. But that’s not all. I can also say these two pros were
responsible for laying the cornerstones on which I have built the foundation
of the leadership philosophy I share with audiences around the world. And
they impressed and impacted me in the best possible way—by modeling their
exceptional leadership qualities for all to see.
Arthur Malek, Plant Manager, Hyster Company (circa 1980)
Art Malek was old school, an engineer by training. He knew every management trick in the book for milking every ounce of efficiency and effort out of the processes and people under his span of control. He could be tough, demanding and relentless. I learned early on that heavy manufacturing environments are not for the faint of heart. There are always products to be built, schedules to be met, customers to be attended to, quality levels to be maintained and shareholders and executives to be placated. But in the midst of such a highly charged and pressure-packed atmosphere, Art earned his positive leadership reputation by being unquestionably fair with people and ever concerned about their personal and professional well-being.
Though old enough to be my father, Art never allowed me (or anyone else) to
call him “Mr. Malek.” Art insisted on “Art.” He wanted us to know him and
he made the effort to get to know us. In 1980, there were more than 400
employees working in that fork-lift manufacturing plant in Berea, Kentucky
—and I’m convinced Art knew each and every one of us by name. His goal was to make us accept the fact that we were all on the same team, all playing
crucial roles in the long-term success of this particular operation.
Though teammates, Art was also interested in our individual achievements. He made no secret of the fact that he wanted the people around him to grow beyond their current skills and abilities. Though I’m sure my youth and inexperience were painfully obvious for all to see way back in the early 80’s, Art looked beyond my current state to see—and communicate—the possibilities he was convinced I possessed. In fact, he saw them long before I had become aware of them. Art made me feel important by being quick to ask my opinion and then willing to listen intently as I offered it.
Art was one of the first to give me a clear picture of what working, out-front
leadership looked like, sounded like and at a deeper core level, felt like.
Jerry Brenda, Hyster Company, Director of Human Resources (circa 1980)
But even more influential to me professionally was Jerry Brenda, Hyster’s
Director of Human Resources.Jerry Brenda gets the credit (or the dunce cap) for sticking his neck out furthest for me. Jerry hired me when my resume consisted of nothing more than several years of general farm labor, several seasons of high school sports officiating and one brief summer job working in the local Wal-Mart’s automotive and sporting goods departments—far from a stellar resume for a future supervisor, manager or leader in the making. Nevertheless, Jerry hired me as the company’s Personnel Supervisor—one of his direct reports. It was nothing short of unmerited good fortune on my part. I simply could not have had a better first boss.
Jerry was quiet, reserved and highly intelligent. From my very first day on the job, he would pose probing questions, listen to my answers and then force me to defend those same answers. Though ever challenging, these Q&A experiences were never the painful, over-bearing, “look-what-I-know-and-you-don’t” sort of interactions. His questions were never intended to be stress-producing, but always intentionally thought-provoking. He knew and stressed that being a leader is more than just being able to say the right things…he wanted me to be able to know and explain why the things I said were right. In so doing, Jerry made me think at a level I had never considered before. And I grew quickly to like it.
Jerry was also never hesitant to put me in situations that admittedly, I was not quite ready for. But he never abandoned me. He was always nearby, at the ready, to serve as my professional safety net when needed. Whether it was conducting layoffs and termination interviews or introducing a new “team process” for hiring employees, Jerry encouraged me to take a lead role. Whether it was planning an annual company-wide picnic or introducing Quality Circles (the predecessor of TQM, 6-Sigma and other quality enhancement initiatives) to a suspicious and uninspired workforce, Jerry had me at the forefront. Whether it was editing the company’s
first internal newsletter or serving as the point person for the company’s annual United Way fund raising drive, Jerry nudged me forward.
But, it was not always peaches and cream, either. When someone tries new things, mistakes are bound to be made. As I have already admitted, I was young and inexperienced, but did I also mention that I was rather foolish? I made mistakes—lots of them, and Jerry was there to take note of them, too. But, Jerry was a master at taking and using my mistakes and my occasional inappropriate actions as “teachable moments.” Through them he required me to acknowledge the situations I had created head-on, accept my responsibility for them and finally, to deal professionally with the negative repercussions I had created for myself. I soon discovered there’s no better way to learn elusive leadership lessons than to screw something up in the public arena where many of your followers are watching intently. Jerry made me learn difficult lessons by holding my feet to the fire.
Finally, Jerry taught me a rather unique leadership lesson by simply determining that it was time for me to spread my professional wings and fly. After about three years under his tutelage, one day Jerry made a rather unsettling announcement to me. In essence, he said, “Phil, I think it’s about time you start thinking about moving on.”
I was shocked, confused and more than a wee bit hurt. Hadn’t my performance evaluations been excellent? Hadn’t I established an enviable rapport with labor and management alike? Hadn’t I advanced the Personnel Supervisor’s position I occupied even farther and in more diverse ways than he had ever asked or expected? I wanted to know. In turn, he assured me that I had. Only then did Jerry confide in me something that no other boss before or since ever had.
“Phil, in your current position, you have learned just about all you can expect
to learn here. Believe me when I tell you that I am not encouraging you to leave because you’re not doing a good job—I am encouraging you to consider leaving because you are! I don’t want you to become too comfortable and therefore complacent. Too many good people, with great potential, get too comfortable in what they’re doing and they end up doing very little else of significance. I really don’t want to see that happen to you. I am convinced that you are capable of bigger and better things. I’m certain there are other people out there that can teach you more than I can. I want you to continue to search out those avenues that will continuously challenge you and which will offer you a broader platform for becoming all you can be.”
I was flabbergasted. Here was a leader I had grown to trust, who was telling
me to do something I wasn’t expecting him to tell me and that I really didn’t
want to do. But, remember I had grown to trust him. And down deep I knew he was right. After four years together, in 1984, we voluntarily parted company and I continued on the journey that has led me to today.
What I discovered though, was that Jerry’s leadership and impact never left me. Since we parted company in 1984, I have called and consulted with Jerry dozens of times. And guess what? Jerry has done the same with me. The relationship has continued—and grown—now to a different plane.
And now here we are more than 20 years later, with both Jerry and Art having traveled great distances to participate in my 50th birthday celebration.
Conclusion
Today, virtually each time I stand before an audience to address the critical
concept of leadership, or each time I sit down at this keyboard to share some
written leadership perspective—Art Malek and Jerry Brenda are never far from my mind and consciousness. Their leadership impact and influence has been nothing short of remarkable. Therefore, if, over time, you have been helped in any way by my talks, articles, products or philosophies, I must be honest —you have Art and Jerry to thank.
There is one other thing. My wish for the next 50 years of my life is to be
an Art or Jerry to other people. I want to be a positive leadership influence
for those who wish to transform themselves into the kind of leader that can
and will impact and influence others. And I am committed to beginning the
efforts to make that wish a reality…just as soon as I finish blowing out
these 50 blasted candles!
