One of my early life lessons came racing back to me last week.
Near the end of our family vacation, I had a small window of time to take my daughters and friends to Wasque on the southeastern corner of Chappaquiddick Island. This is a magical place is where fast-moving currents from the east side of Martha’s Vineyard dramatically collide with the prevailing southwest winds of summer. So we packed the car for a late afternoon beach outing well-stocked with Cape Cod potato chips, cold beverages, and surfcasting gear. After the famously brief ferry ride over to Chappy, we made our way to the The Trustees of the Reservations land at Wasque, parked in the fisherman’s lot, and then walked the short distance down to the beach. I should have known something would be different this visit when I spotted a new red sign cautioning us against swimming near seals because they attract sharks. No joke.
What I saw when I first stepped on the beach was otherworldly. Blue skies and early fall sunlight framed ocean waters roiling beyond comprehension. Chaos everywhere as powerful currents moving down from East Beach crashed into those generated by the steady 15-knot winds at Wasque. Hundreds of terns owned the skies as they worked the frothing waters in search of their next meal. Seals bobbed up and down in the seams and quizzically gazed at the humans on shore. After all, no one is crazy enough to go in the water teaming with 2-4 foot whitecaps coming from all directions. In fact, two distinct currents—one along the shoreline and another 125 yards out to sea—create a nearly one-quarter of a mile seam making swimming dangerous if not nearly impossible. I stood there in silence for a good 5 minutes just to soak up this moment of a lifetime. In my nearly six decades visiting Wasque, I never bore witness to such raw beauty, sheer chaos, and immense power. And I never felt more alive.
And at that very moment the life lesson emerged from the deep recesses in my mind. Mind the moving water. Always.
When we first approach moving water from a distance, we may feel a calmness coming over us. That feeling can be attributed to seeing pristine waters and hearing rhythmic sounds. It too can surface fond memories of time well spent on the water with our family and friends. Yet upon further inspection, our senses quickly surmise that all is not as it seems here. Riffles and seams, breakers and whitecaps, undertows, and even eddies and whirlpools are all churning the waters. And then it hits us. We must mind the moving water because to ignore it is to do so at our own peril.
Moving water roils all around us in today’s world. Leaders are experiencing different currents, waves, and seams every day but are unclear about which specific course(s) of action will calm the waters. These movements can be easily identified in the operational, financial and human conflicts and tensions, our corporate and community partnerships, and our employee relations/return to office matters. Not surprisingly, our leadership responses vary significantly based on how well we analyze the moving water, whether we are fully committed to our vision, and how well we apply our core values to our actual response.
More often than not in haste or out of habit, many leaders stumble into the reactive trap whereby each current, wave, or seam warrants immediate attention. We do so out of our innate fight or flight response. We seek short-term relief from the burden of carrying spoken and unspoken expectations from our employees, our clients, and even ourselves. We also feel a sense of accomplishment for fixing the problem right in front of us. And for more than a few of us, we reaffirm our position of power and privilege over key groups or factions as well as expand our professional capital in certain circles.
Regardless of our motivations, the leadership mantra for this rapid response model is tangible and definitive action now. No judgments about this approach but a few words of caution. First, reading the water requires full attention to the interactive effects of various movements. Best as we can, leaders must strive to understand how different currents, waves, or seams are interacting within the section of water we want to navigate. To simply assess one movement in isolation from the others is to risk getting soaked or much worse. Next, beyond this consideration lies the message it sends to those around us. Some employees and clients can view our frequent rapid responses as chasing bright shining objects rather than thoughtfully navigating by the North Star. Last and most important, this model is exhausting for both leaders and employees because it can foster an emotionally reactive culture that is difficult to cope with day after day.
Then there are moments when currents, waves, and seams are all churning the waters at the same time. From the naked eye it appears that there is no easy passage through the whitewater. In these circumstances we profess our commitment to empathy and emotional intelligence and then openly discuss charting a new course forward with our employees and board of directors. Empathy and emotional intelligence serve as our guides through the uncertainty. Awareness, compassion, and connectedness are the leadership elements on display as we secure safe passage for all employees and clients. Our action plan is clear and concise–leave no one behind.
Once we are on the other side of the whitewater, we might then think about how this shared experience influences our collective future. We might even explore whether the new stretch of water we occupy can advance our mission, recruit and retain a more diverse and engaged workforce, and foster a more empathetic yet resilient culture. Again, no judgments about this type of response but more thoughts for reflection. First, please do not be surprised when a subset of employees and directors disengage or disconnect because we cannot articulate a clear vision, defined set of values, and contingency plans for when—not if—things do not go as planned. These employees and directors find this more expansive planning response heavy on emotional processing for the group and light on mission impact for the organization. For them it is too much about the feels. Then when things do go wrong, expect a different subset of employees and directors who were actively involved in planning and executing our response to distance themselves so to avoid personal or professional accountability for the outcome. Put another way, never forgot that success has 1,000 parents while failure is an orphan.
Finally, there are rare moments when moving water is nearly impassable. Anyone who has ever planned to take the ferry between Woods Hole to either Martha’s Vineyard or Nantucket when a Nor’easter is blowing understands this situation. In these scary moments, we are reminded that the natural world bends to no human. As leaders, the best we can offer is to recognize the situation we are living through, make short-term contingency plans for food and shelter, and accept that there will be no ferry crossings anytime soon. Humility, prudence, and respect are the leadership qualities of the day. Our action plan is solely focused on the safety and well-being of our people. We take refuge today so we can do more impactful work tomorrow.
In summary, leaders can benefit from sharpening our senses to the moving water roiling around us. Why? Because there is real value in understanding how major forces create the whitewater and how we could harness the energy and momentum of such forces for greater good. From my leadership experiences, these forces typically center on: (1) employees and culture; (2) leadership empathy and emotional intelligence; (3) vision and values; and (4) accountability and impact. Each warrant dedicated time and space in our heads and hearts as well as on our calendars. Each is a complex, powerful, and ever-changing force in our professional world. And when they combine, these forces offer significant potential for greater good–or significant harm. All the more reason to mind the moving water. Always.