Who you are

Not the same

This week I heard of a brilliant way that someone introduced himself as a speaker to his audience: “This is who I am — and these are my biases”.

He went on, in a semi-humourous fashion, to relate a couple of ‘coming of age’ stories, and then summed up a number of positions that he holds on issues relevant to the audience.

This was refreshing because:

• Everyone’s views have context. So let’s hear about that upfront, rather than have to deduce it.
• He implies that his are not the only valid views and options.
• He understands that opinions on complex issues are never objective; they are grounded in personal experience, which varies for everyone.

Question: How can you set context about your own viewpoints and biases, especially in ‘public’ settings?

When representation doesn’t equal accountability

I’m working with four organisations this month which have the same problem, yet are very different. One is an Australian industry federation, one is an international body spanning most countries on the globe, one is a health organisation serving the most disadvantaged million people in their capital city, and the last is a condition-specific health advocacy group.

Their leaders are asking the same basic question: “How should the interests of our ultimate beneficiaries inform decisions made by our board of directors?”

The simple answer is, “Appoint consumers to your board”.

But that solution is riddled with problems: (i) how can one or two people represent the interests of thousands?; (ii) how could those people know the full range of issues faced by consumers? (iii) what if board members already have substantial exposure to consumers, in large numbers, through their daily professional dealings?; (iv) what if not all consumers are equal, because some represent themselves only, whereas others have a much broader view and can represent the perspective of an entire group?. Lastly, what about this response to the frequent call to diversify boards: (v) “Yes, a male Aboriginal elder can speak for middle-aged Aboriginal men, but what about women? Or young people?”

In all these cases, representation isn’t the solution. Instead, we’re looking at sophisticated ways to make sure varied perspectives are heard, understood and acted upon. Some of these include:

• Advisory councils with terms of reference, and excellent nominations processes, that ensure strong and varied opinions get through to the board;
• Methods for filtering and synthesising those views ‘upward’, in ways that genuinely provide boards with business intelligence and insight;
• Feedback loops that show beneficiaries or consumers that the organisation is listening: both by providing hard data, and also by reflecting issues of interest (“We know that you are concerned about _____ and so what we’re doing is ________”)

Question: How are you being accountable to genuinely hearing the perspectives of your consumers or constituents?

When ‘basic’ doesn’t cut it

When I turned 18 I was offered a job in the liquor outlet of the supermarket where I’d worked after school and on weekends since I was 15. I was pleased about this promotion as the ‘bottle-shop’ was where all the most interesting customers went (and I was studying psychology at university).

There was one problem: I didn’t drink. Of course, I’d had alcohol, but I can’t say I liked any of it.

This became tricky when an elderly lady asked, “What’s the difference between a lager and an ale?" (Honest answer: “I don’t know”). Or a harried businessman wanted advice on, “A really special Shiraz to take to my boss’s dinner party” (Honest answer: “Don’t ask me”). I gave advice, but it was poor: I relied on price as a proxy for quality, and for any question that required finer distinctions, I either fudged a response, or said “To be honest, I can’t help you with that”.

By contrast, my wife, Kate, runs an interior design studio, and she’s working on a high-end retail project for a jeweller, where very impressive but subtle lighting is needed. To her delight, she’s found a specialist lighting supplier who understands that a jewellery shop is like a miniature theatre: tiny spotlights have to draw attention to key pieces, without blanketing everything else in shade or darkness. Here, a basic solution isn’t enough, and both the client — and their customers (you or I) — should not ever see the hidden layers of design that go into the finished product.

This is the secret of true artisanship: complexity that is invisible.

And, I’d argue that even those of us not in lighting, or design, or even retail, should be thinking about how to design the nuances and subtleties that make the difference between an outstanding experience, and one that simply treats every space simply as an area to be lit.

Question: What expert knowledge, or artisanship, can your people bring to the way they design a client’s experience?

I’m always grateful to know that you’ve enjoyed reading, so please give a thumbs up or, even better, make a comment about what you’ve enjoyed this week.

Until next Friday, enjoy being you,

Andrew