In 2011, on the 50th anniversary of the late Russian cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin’s first manned space flight, BBC correspondent Richard Hollingham uncovered colorful details of the former Soviet Union’s achievements in space exploration that were long shrouded in secrecy.
Walking through a proverbial time capsule at the Russian space museum, Hollingham came upon a three-man spacecraft — the Volshod 1 — known to be so cramped that cosmonauts could not wear spacesuits. The story goes that one of the engineers warned the chief designer, Sergei Korolev, that the slightest air leak would kill all on board.
“Korlev’s solution,” Hollingham wrote,“ was to appoint the engineer as one of the cosmonauts, believing this would help to properly motivate him to make the capsule as safe as possible.” All three cosmonauts survived the mission, he reported.
One hundred seventy years earlier and a continent removed, J.M.W. Turner, arguably Britain’s greatest painter, lashed himself to the mast of a ship in a blinding snowstorm to observe the foundering of the Ariel, a paddle steamer that would sink after leaving Harwich in 1842. When asked later about his inspiration for capturing the sound and fury that inspired “Snow Storm —Steam Boat off a Harbour’s Mouth,” Turner said:
“I got the sailors to lash me to the mast to observe it [like Homer’s Odysseus, resisting the Sirens]; I was lashed for four hours and I did not expect to escape, but I felt bound to record it.”
These two powerful vignettes share a critical common element: To find inspiration and success in our work as counselors and practitioners, we must to commit ourselves to experiencing the lives of others, body and soul.
While in Seattle for Boeing at one time, I met with our client, Jerry Calhoun, the global human resources leader. As we sat down, Calhoun, who later led HR for Alan Mulally when he was CEO of Ford Motor Co., looked at me for a long time before he spoke. Then he shook his head and said, almost prophetically, “This is the last time we’ll meet here in the corporate office.”
Thinking our firm had been fired before our engagement started, I looked at him somewhat puzzled .
“Real work is done out in Renton, in Everett, and in places where people build our aircraft and other products,” Calhoun said. “That’s where you need to be — not here in corporate.”
I never forgot this conversation.
I have long been “strapped to the mast” — destined for manufacturing plants and field locations that allow me to observe leaders, managers and employees on the front lines, to see how communication works where “real” work is done where careers ebb and flow, where leaders struggle to cut through information overload and seize the day, where the men and women we’ve forgotten to thank and recognize for their contributions await us.
How can we ask others to take risks or to find solutions to needs or problems without discovering for ourselves what sucks the oxygen from the air we breathe, or how the dizzying forces we see and feel may imperil the future?
Do not go gentle into that good night. Do not trust companywide surveys that yield buckets full of numbers and trend data but little context for why issues or problems abound in a corporate culture. Strap yourselves to the mast, metaphorically; get out of your office or classroom, leave your teleconferences, your voice messages and your social media behind for a time, and go see people where real work is done.
I first read the “Broken Windows” theory in 1982, the year Dr. George Kelling, a criminologist, and political scientist James Wilson advanced their ideas for how community policing could help prevent neighborhood crimes.
“Social psychologists and police officers tend to agree that if a window in a building is broken and is left unrepaired, all the rest of the windows will soon be broken,” Wilson and Kelling wrote in The Atlantic. In their article, they maintained that urban crime doesn’t develop in a vacuum. It is the result of social neglect and decay, and small problems can ultimately lead to a breakdown in civic life.
Kelling died recently and when I read the obituary recounting his life, I was reminded of how the “broken windows” are always in our line of sight, in life and in our work. The signs are always there. When we neglect the signs, small problems are quickly magnified.
We see the signs of decay in corporate cultures when morale and pride plunge during a critical period of change, yet we fail to investigate why managers couldn’t motivate and inspire their people. Or how teams may falter or even collapse because efficiency moves designed by consultants looked good on paper but failed to anticipate the devastating effects “rightsizing” would have on those who remain and mourn the elimination of their co-workers.
We see the signs of resistance in organizations whose labor or trade unions have unresolved grievances or contract issues. It’s the union members who “work to rule,” adhering strictly to rules and hours in order to reduce output and efficiency of their employer. It’s the increasing numbers of hours lost due to illness or workplace injuries, or the rising numbers of Unfair Labor Practice claims filed by union members against their companies.
It’s the HR manager who punishes an hourly employee for taking extra bereavement days to bury his late father and put his affairs in order while co-workers on his shift watch silently and know their time, too, will come.
It’s the supervisor who orders employees to operate unsafe equipment and who closes his eyes to the manufacture of flawed products to meet shift quotas, regardless of quality.
As Wilson and Kelling wrote, if a window in a building is broken and left unrepaired, all the rest of the windows will soon be broken.
As strategists and counselors, we have to remember that no amount of communication will overcome poor policies and decision-making. It’s our job to point out the “broken windows” to our leaders and make certain they are repaired.
In chronicling a global quest that challenged fiercely held beliefs and opened his heart in To the Last Breath, author Francis Slakey, Upjohn Lecturer on Physics and Public Policy at Georgetown University, discovered that “the universe is clothed in formulas, but it speaks in stories. And we need to be attentive, mindful of the words.”
We may think the venerable Australian, Steve Denning, and the Millennial Generation invented storytelling in this age of internal branding. In truth, you only have to make your way to the rolling plains of France that envelope the majestic Chartres Cathedral to experience storytelling in the 13th Century.
And the story of the trades windows is worth telling.
Inside Chartres, a UNESCO World Heritage site (and arguably the country’s most beautiful gothic cathedral), pilgrims and visitors today are still in awe of its sculptures, the graceful proportions of its soaring nave and the quality of its stained-glass windows. Of its 170 windows, there are no fewer than 42 “windows of the trades,” according to author Philip Ball in his biography of Chartres, Universe of Stone. These windows contain 125 images of at least 25 different tradespeople – bakers, winemakers, wheelwrights, fishmongers and money changers, among others – and it has been argued by some historians that the windows were given by the workers to honor and celebrate their trade, their community, their cloister and their faith.
Others see the images portrayed in the trades windows through a different – and darker – lens.
Some believe the glorious glazings like the “Assumption” and “Miracles of Mary” windows were donated not out of a cooperative spirit or community pride but under protest to the high taxes assigned by the clerics of Chartres – a constant source of discord for the tradespeople at the core of the community.
Art historian Jane Welch Williams, in Bread, Wine & Money: The Windows of the Trades at Chartres Cathedral, has written that the Chartres trades windows actually portray a highly regimented life, with “each worker submissively and eternally” repeating his tasks with bowed back and exaggerated, anguished movements that communicate “endurance in one’s labor in life” and the acceptance of the impossibility of change. That meant long, grueling days, no hope for altering your social station or life conditions, and ever-growing taxes and assessments that would drain very meager earnings.
Moreover, it’s not lost on social historians that the tradespeople depicted are only shown in work scenes in the lowest windows while upper classes and clergy are pictured above them praying – except for the knights, counts and kings of fighting age appearing in armor on horseback. Even in medieval society, class distinctions were clear.
At Chartres the trade windows are placed low down in the side aisles – “potentially the best advertising spots where they would be clearly visible to the milling crowds,” Ball writes. He says the windows of Chartres served “a very practical purpose as storytelling devices for moral instruction.” Seeing images of the trades, one can only imagine the stories that were woven from the stylized images of men at work as the parishioners and pilgrims congregated together.
Stories are an intrinsic part of our societies and culture. The more we observe about the past, the more we learn about ourselves. As Slakey said, we need to be mindful of the words that spring out of stories like those told by the trades windows of a great cathedral. Then, as now, stories are often used to explain important but often confusing events, life experiences, how we treat others and what we believe and practice as opposed to what we say.
As Jeff Bezos, Amazon's CEO, once remarked to his executive leadership team during a period of intense challenge, stories are "what people say about us when we’re not in the same room with them.” Stories that executives and their people share can be an important barometer on the health and effectiveness of an organization and a touchstone to the corporate values and culture. They can bind us together or predict a decline in trust, organizational health and employee engagement.
We can never let it be through a glass lens darkly.
Almost a decade ago, trustees of the Plank Center for Leadership in Public Relations began a conversation with our founder, Betsy Plank, about the need for equipping collegiate educators with greater knowledge and experience to help prepare students for the challenges public relation leaders face in their work. Our Plank Center Fellowship for Educators program was born of these discussions, and seven years later we’ve now placed 60 PR educators in summer assignments with 24 of the world’s great global corporations, agencies and not-for profit organizations.
The Plank Center’s mission is to help develop and recognize outstanding, diverse public relations leaders, role models and mentors to advance ethical public relations in an evolving, global society. Betsy Plank, known as the First Lady of Public Relations, had a life-long passion for matching educators and professionals so that both would grow together.
We designed the summer fellowship specifically for public relations educators with the dual purpose of exposing professors to current day-to-day operations of the public relations function and to help create an exchange of information and ideas that will enhance the professional development of both the educators and the practitioner-hosts.
As in past years, educators for 2016 spent two full weeks in the offices of the sponsoring organizations. During their period of service, they were given a full orientation to the sponsoring organization, a particular department or functional area, staff duties and responsibilities, clients and/or projects. Many worked side-by-side with host teams on corporate and client programs
A key facet of this program is the reciprocal nature of the fellowship: When the educator has completed their summer term, they will extend an invitation to their host/mentor to schedule time in 2016 on their college or university campus, during which the host/mentor will be asked to provide a lecture, have lunch or dinner with faculty, and meet with students.
Nine world-class public relations agencies and corporations stepped up to be hosts in 2016. Four public relations firms – Burson-Marsteller, Ketchum, Deveney Communications and WeberShandwick – were joined by five corporate hosts – American Airlines, General Motors, Home Depot, Cox Communications and Darden Restaurants. Burson-Marsteller, Ketchum, Deveney Communication, GM and Home Depot are all repeat hosts.
The educators selected from a field of more than 20 applicants and their host companies included:
We all should be very proud of a program that brings the Plank Center, as moderator, great visibility and recognition among world-class hosts and educators. It makes our profession better!