A Missionary in Mercenary Clothing

I’m a suit guy—unabashedly. I know it means I’m often overdressed, especially here in Toronto. The homepage on our website says we don’t take ourselves too seriously. I portray a different picture when you first meet me. I’ve gotten used to the looks, raised brows, and judgment. I’ve also grown fond of the reaction of those same people when I finally open my mouth to speak.

Recently, though, I encountered a situation where my suits painted me in an especially bad light. As most of you know, I’m an independent-come-boutique consultant and have been for over a decade. Given the horrific market conditions for us small-timers, I took a short-term contract with a bigger name in the consulting industry on a specific client engagement.

We turned up at the client site invited by a VP. Things started rather well, and then it happened. I was mistaken for a mercenary. If you’re unfamiliar with the term, it was coined by Marty Cagan in his book Inspired.

Incidentally, a friend and colleague, Moshe Mikanovsky, recently interviewed Cagan about his new book Transformed; check it out here:

In a nutshell, Cagan contrasts mercenaries and missionaries. The former is the ‘hired guns’ that are brought in from the outside and often have an alternate agenda, misaligned motivations, and a short-term outlook. The latter are mission-focused and motivated by (hopefully) the organization’s long-term goals.

I suck at being a mercenary. In fact, it is one of the reasons I do the whole independent consultant thing. It ensures that I don’t get too involved with my employer’s mission and stop seeing the forest for the trees. In theory, anyway.

So here I was speaking to a bunch of people I respected as peers, and suddenly, one of them told me that I’d ruin everything through my involvement and that he would have to fix it after I was gone.

Yikes.

I was “falling” quickly for this organization. It had all the things that I loved: great people (yes, including that guy), a worthy mission, and potential up the wazoo. I had considered myself lucky to help bring the organization's vision to life. But the words stung, and yet, I could not debate. Mostly because I am not entirely unsupportive of his position. I’ve seen the mercenary impact many times before (often, I’m brought in to ‘fix’ things afterwards). It is not entirely surprising that big consulting has this stigma. By the way, this issue is more prevalent in North America than in other continents where I’ve worked.

Over the next few days and weeks, the mercenary judgements came thick and fast. None were as obvious as the example above, but enough for me to want to question the whole ‘big consulting’ thing. As an independent or boutique consultant, I had never experienced this level of judgment. I wondered if the suits needed to disappear or if I was presenting in a holier-than-thou way. The more it continued, the more I questioned everything: Were my motivations misaligned? Did I do something wrong? Am I even helping? Should I go find a “real job”? Am I a good person?

I know it sounds like I was making a mountain out of a molehill. Probably. I’ve lost a lot of confidence over the past 12 months. In the current economic conditions, consulting dollars have dried up, and I’ve taken it personally. I see myself as the trend-breaker, the antithesis of the current situation, the person who survives despite everything. But these past 12 months have taken its toll - and that one comment triggered me more than I care to admit. Vulnerability is not one of my strengths. I’m probably going to edit this paragraph out.

I don’t know how it happened, but I found a way to continue to be me. I continued “falling” for this organization, and I continued giving it my best. Slowly, over the next couple of months, I saw a transition. The judgements made way for relationships. In some cases, perhaps even friendships. I continued to care deeply for the organization’s mission, the people, and what they were trying to achieve. I showed up as a missionary in mercenary clothing. Every day, I promoted the "good word" (vision/mission). By the end of my time with this client, I had left everything on the table. I am proud of what I have achieved. From the reactions I got from the amazing people I had been working with, I gather they felt the same way.

So, the lesson I learned was that I can be a missionary in mercenary’s clothing. I can align myself deeply with the success of my client organization (in some cases, to my own short-term detriment). I can have a positive impact in a way that may not come to light for months or years to come - long after my suits are forgotten.

The whole experience helped me to about-face on my personal confidence challenges. I'm starting to see my professional value again. And I hope to help many others in the only way I know how - as a missionary.