Archive for February 2nd, 2010

Leadership Secrets of Fictional Characters (part 1 of a series).

Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010

Some of the best lessons in leadership I’ve learned have come from works of fiction. I’ve been thinking a lot more about leadership recently, for various reasons, and decided it was time to kick off this irregular series of posts.

My mind was made up by something a person (who shall remain nameless for the moment) said to me yesterday in conversation (in case it isn’t clear, they were being sarcastic):

Management is a priestly caste. You can’t possibly expect them to soil their hands doing the same work as their underlings. That would make them unclean. That would be like expecting Pelosi’s brood to fly commercial rather than take Air Force planes.

I thought for my first post I’d draw from one of my favorite books and movies, Thomas Harris’ The Silence of the Lambs.

Here’s the background for this exchange: Jack Crawford, head of the FBI Behavioral Science Section, took Clarice Starling, the trainee agent, with him to West Virgina to do forensics on one of Buffalo Bill’s (the serial killer Crawford and Starling are hunting) victims. While they were there, Crawford did a sort of shuck and jive routine about “giving the little woman some privacy” to clear the room so Starling could work. Now they’re coming home from the trip; Crawford is being dropped off at FBI headquarters for the night.

She realized then that he’d gotten her out of the car so he could speak with her privately.
“When I told that deputy he and I shouldn’t talk in front of a woman, that burned you, didn’t it?”
“Sure.”
“It was just smoke. I wanted to get him by himself.”
“I know that.”
“Okay.” Crawford slammed the trunk and turned away.
Starling couldn’t let it go.
“It matters, Mr. Crawford.”
He was turning back to her, laden with his fax machine and briefcase, and she had his full attention.
“Those cops know who you are,” she said, “They look at you to see how to act.” She stood steady, shrugged her shoulders, opened her palms. There it was, it was true.
Crawford performed a measurement on his cold scales.
“Duly noted, Starling. Now get on with the bug.”
“Yes sir.”
She watched him walk away, a middle-aged man laden with cases and rumpled from flying, his cuffs muddy from the riverbank, going home to what he did at home.
She would have killed for him then. That was one of Crawford’s great talents.

What do I take away from this?

  1. Being a leader means you’re being watched. Every day, people are watching you; not just your superiors, but the people under you, and even people you don’t know. The people under you are watching how you act, and how you behave; they are going to model their behavior after yours, for good or bad. What you do matters.
  2. “…she had his full attention.” Full attention. Not distracted by the cell phone, or email, or IM. Clarice has Jack’s full attention.
  3. The best leaders have the ability to chew your ass out, or take an ass-chewing, and still make you want to go out and kill for them.

The movie does include this exchange; Demme’s direction of it is pitch-perfect. If I could find it on YouTube, I’d link to it.

Random notes: February 2, 2010.

Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010

Michael Gill owns a mortgage brokerage and a string of paloponies racehorses. Unfortunately, Mr. Gill’s racehorses have a problem. Specifically, they tend to die on the track at Penn National Race Course. Gill blames the track; the jockeys that don’t ride Gill’s horses blame him, and are boycotting races involving Gill’s horses.

This is sad and awful, but I also like saying “Swedish rapper?”: Swedish rapper convicted in road rage killing of jazz pianist.

I can’t come up with anything more clever than the headline: Fung shui master loses bid for ex-lover’s fortune.