An editorial disclaimer from the start. The judgy New Englander in me is finally rearing its ugly head. Candidly, the only real surprise here is that it took so long to happen.
Our collective leadership psyche is shrouded in a blanket of fog. There are damn good reasons for the state we are in. The news of the day overflows with anger, bewilderment, complacency, despair, madness, and shock. And so we participate in more hard conversations held in personal and professional settings as we struggle to make sense of it all. Yet it is nearly impossible to find true meaning during such conversations let alone process the range of emotions with each tragedy. The fog is thick as pea soup.
We all experience different types of emotional fog due to the conditions in our lives. A few examples might be illustrative here. Steam fog. Think late summertime on the waters off Martha’s Vineyard. Cold air blown by dissatisfaction with our own lives moves over the warm waters of our most cherished dreams held in our hearts. Advection fog. Think Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. Warm, moist air fed by the love of family moves horizontally across the cooler surface reality of our emotional disconnection from the very same people. Radiation fog. Think crisp fall mornings in the Midwest. On a calm and clear night, the air temperature first cools to the dew point and, when the early morning sun warms the ground, that same air above the ground warms above the dew point and creates fog’s most recognized feature—water droplets. A childhood memory from New England suddenly emerges and whispers softly to me. Fog is more prevalent in fall and winter. Of course it is.
In foggy moments, leaders naturally seek more light, greater transparency, and timely information to effectively respond to opportunities and challenges. Yet we must also cope with the inherent contradiction between light and fog. The more light we shine on fog, the more our vision is impaired by the reflections of countless water droplets. Think about those infrequent times when we drive at night in the fog and instinctively turn on the car’s high beams. Not the smartest idea but we still do it. Then just as quickly we turn them off to avoid a wreck. Our thoughts next race to pulling over on the side of the road for safety, but we realize that this is equally dangerous as other drivers cannot see our stopped vehicle. We ultimately continue down the road all the while feeling numb or overwhelmed and praying that this fog lifts as soon as possible.
But what if it does not disappear quickly?
Our most obvious response is to seek safe passage–intellectually, emotionally, and physically—through the fog. For that journey we search for as much compassion, empathy, and understanding as humanly possible. They are food and water that can sustain us until the fog lifts. But they are in short supply these days. And their prolonged shortage can lead to emotional distance–or worse yet isolation–from those who love us the most. From a leadership perspective, this shortage can create the conditions for leaders to become emotionally unavailable to or disconnected from our teams.
When safe passage cannot be readily found, our heads and hearts declare an emotional state of emergency. The thick fog rolls in and we become stuck. Our most basic survival instinct kicks in and takes control. We retreat to what appears to be the safest, most protective place we can find. It is a highly evolved and effective response to an immediate threat or danger to our existence. Yet we cannot remain in this state for long. To do so is to stop living, dreaming, laughing, crying, and most of all loving. And it denies the world the very essence of our beings and the limitless beauty that lies within us all.
Full disclosure here. These musings about emotional fog are not the product of discussions with academics nor derived from reviews of literature or textbooks. Rather, they are attributed to my personal experiences surrounding the loss of two brothers. A fog enveloped my young adulthood after their deaths and lingered for many years. It affected every meaningful relationship I had during my 20s and 30s. Most days I simply ran away from the pain. Yet the fog never really lifted no matter how fast and far I ran. In retrospect, I was just running in circles. But that all changed one day when the powerful sunlight of unconditional love burned through the fog. I am forever grateful to my wife and my best friend for that at a time when I was nearly unrecognizable.
Faith, hope, and optimism can also illuminate a safe passage through the fog. Yet we must first be willing to invite them into our lives as well as our organizations. Individually, each belief can bring its own brilliance, energy, and warmth into this troubled world. Collectively, they have the awesome power to change hearts and minds. Given this potential for good, leaders should run not walk to faith, hope and optimism and welcome them with open arms. Why? Because these beliefs will sustain us for the complex and hard work ahead.
A note of caution and a dose of reality here. Some leaders routinely tap into the power of faith, hope, and optimism simply to get their own way. These leaders play on the news of the day and on the emotions within our teams to create a narrative that fits their own personal agenda or need. This is nothing more than professional manipulation and has no place in any organization. Yet sometimes the manipulation can be difficult to detect. At first glance, our leaders’ words and action may appear consistent with organizational culture and values. Our leaders may even be able to convince a small group of followers that their perspective is the right one or that their cause is just. After all, the ends justify the means. But herein lies the greatest risk to our leadership authenticity and ultimately our ability to create lasting change. When our words are not reinforced by authentic, values-driven behaviors, we create a credibility gap with our teams which cannot be easily bridged nor repaired. Our team’s trust and confidence in us take a huge hit and some team members never forget nor forgive us for that. We ultimately pay the highest price—the loss of our integrity–for getting our own way. One has to wonder if that price is ever truly worth it.
Of course no leader—including yours truly–is immune from rationalization. We are human after all. Yet leaders should be extremely curious when the fog first appears and even more so when we rationalize our safe passage forward. More often than not we do so out of our own emotional need. Sometimes we are bolstering our self-esteem or looking to prove our worth to those around us. Other times we seek to avoid personal and professional hardship and the inevitable conflicts that arise from them. And in darker moments we resort to rationalization to justify decisions that hurt our competitors, detractors, or enemies. In all of these circumstances, we lack self-awareness and that has real costs to our leadership and our organizations. To think otherwise is naive and delusional. Here endeth the New England judgements.
Notwithstanding the current state of affairs in the world, I remain a pragmatic optimist about our future together. I believe we will find a path forward to a truly equitable and just society. On a micro level, I appreciate that there are multiple paths forward for every leader and every organization rather than one “right” way. These paths—some known to us now and others still to be discovered—often reveal themselves when individual leaders are most vulnerable and open to accepting unconditional love and support from family, friends, and trusted colleagues. These individuals can offer leaders an unlimited source of sunlight in our lives, capable of not only burning off today’s fog but more importantly lighting the path forward for many years to come.
To leaders everywhere, may you find unconditional love and support—and as much sunlight as possible—in the new year!