Leadership Lesson #5: Machetes and Red Pens Taught Valuable Lessons

A group of us were talking at work about the importance of thoroughly vetting ideas before accepting and acting on them. We also discussed how, depending on the culture of the organization, it can be difficult to have an open, honest discussion. Group-think, personalities, politics and turf protection often interfere with vigorous debate. Probing questions are seen as attacks rather than requests for clarification.

 

The conversation brought back college memories. I started as an art major in college. My mother was an artist and teacher so I certainly had the interest — not so much the talent. My freshman sculpture class was taught by a colorful character with shoulder-length hair and a full beard complete with handlebar moustache, who dressed in a suede jacket with western fringe and cowboy boots. (It was the early 70s!) Behind his back, we called him “Wild Bill” because of his likeness to Wild Bill Hickock. Oh, one other thing; he’d wander around the room carrying a machete.

 

 One particular day stands out. We were working in clay. I don’t remember what the assignment was, but I remember being proud of my result: an abstract conglomeration of some sort. Wild Bill paused to peruse my masterpiece. He asked, “Why is that piece there,” referring to an outcropping of clay. My response must not have been satisfactory because he said, “Well, if there’s no reason for it to be there, let’s get rid of it,” and with a quick flourish of his machete, a portion of my masterpiece was amputated and lay lonely on the floor. Later in the class, he came back and quizzed me about another section. Having learned my lesson, I tried to conjure a valid reason for my piece’s existence. Not good enough — the machete struck again.

 

Not surprisingly, I switched my major to English. Not much changed other than the machete was replaced by a red pen. I had one professor who marked out every sentence that did not develop, illustrate or elaborate on the thesis. A five page essay easily became one page under the blood-colored red pen. The familiar excuse, “I know what I want to write, but just can’t find the right words,” fell on deaf ears. The red-pen wielding professor would simply respond, “Then you don’t know what you want to write. Fuzzy writing is indicative of fuzzy thinking.”

Now, when someone challenges an idea at work, I try to remember that honest questions sharpen and improve the final result. Plus, they’re easier to face than a machete or red pen.

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