The Prodigal Executive and the Myth of Once a Jerk, Always A Jerk

Have you met a competent jerk?

A colleague, Dr. Kenneth Nowack, describes the competent jerk as someone who is difficult to work with or lacks interpersonal skills, but is highly knowledgeable and capable. Sometimes they are “unwavering in their convictions (mostly having to do with them being right) that they are unwilling to take counsel and see absolutely no reason to change their ways” (Envisia Learning White Paper, 2006, “Coaching Competent Jerks: Can Zebras Change Their Stripes?).

Now this is tricky because many executives have been so rewarded for being a jerk throughout their career, being a jerk has exquisite value. The jerk’s position is, why change? They see no benefit to be gained from transforming from being a jerk to becoming a decent human being. In fact they have much to lose.

The competent jerk’s reluctance to change is understandable. This always reminds me of the story of a very nice man, Bob Newhart, the former accountant who mined his nervous stammer and deadpan demeanor for comedy gold. As a stand-up comedian, Newhart’s underplayed delivery and gentle stammering earned him three Grammys and the first comedy album to reach #1 on the Billboard charts. His unique brand of humor translated well to television, where he starred in two of the best-loved sitcoms of the 1970s and 1980s.

When he was doing The Bob Newhart Show, one of the producers pulled him aside and said that the shows were running a little long. The producer wondered if Newhart could cut down the time of his speeches by reducing his stammering. "No," Newhart told him. "That stammer bought me a house in Beverly Hills."

For many executives, being a jerk got them where they are today. Actually being a jerk can work under certain circumstances or life cycles of an organization. For instance, this can work well when a company needs someone to take charge in a turnaround situation or crisis mode, but doesn’t work so well when you are in growth mode.
The poster child for the competent jerk boss is Al Dunlap, author of Mean Business: How I Save Bad Companies and Make Good Companies Great (Dunlap with Bob Andelman, 1997). His tough, tell-it-like-it-is persona stems from humble beginnings in Hoboken, New Jersey. ``My parents couldn't afford to send me to college,'' he says, ``so either I got a scholarship or I wouldn't get an education.'' A West Point graduate, he believed in screaming at and purposefully humiliating his employees like, including top management. Dunlap was so ruthless in downsizing corporations for short-term shareholder profit that he earned nicknames such as "Chainsaw Al" and "Rambo in Pinstripes."
Wall Street loved Dunlap at Scott Paper, where he laid off thousands, but then hated him at Sunbeam, where he himself was finally fired. Another book, Chainsaw, by John A. Byrne (2003), dramatically documents the rise and fall of Dunlap, the havoc he wreaked on companies and people's lives, and how he came to power in the first place. Dunlap, unhappy about Byrne's reporting, once said of the Business Week writer, "If he were on fire, I wouldn't piss on him." It's a charming quote that Byrne uses to kick off his last chapter.

In my experience, even the competent jerk can change. For me this conjures up images of someone I coached named Stuart, a boss that yelled and screamed, purposely to make people feel intellectually inferior. Stuart was leading the company during a turnaround crisis and he wanted the company to act with urgency. He saw himself like an emergency room physician attending a bleeding trauma patient. In that world there is no time to be nice.

Stuart’s management style worked, in the short run. But when things turned around at the company, that behavior didn’t work any more. If Stuart wanted to continue to lead he needed to learn skills like persuasion and inspiration. When finally confronted with the honest truth (“you either get an executive coach or an outplacement specialist to help you find a new job”), Stuart found the inspiration to change his ways.

The Prodigal Executive Myth That You Can't Teach An Old Executive New Tricks

The proverb “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks” explains why people who have long been used to doing things in a particular way will not abandon their habits. This expression is often used in the workplace to describe how difficult it is for someone who has been doing something one way for a long time to learn how to do it a new way.

Here is some food for thought from my book, The Prodigal Executive. There is some scientific backing to this concept about an older person’s inability or lack of desire to learn about new and modern things.

A protein normally associated with the immune system could hold a clue to one of the great puzzles of neuroscience: why you can't teach old dogs new tricks. The Harvard medical School study, published in the journal Science, could even create hope for people suffering spinal cord injuries and brain damage.

Plasticity in the brain is its ability to rewire internal connections as a result of experience. Normally this plasticity is largely restricted to critical periods of development early in life, meaning puppies are more receptive to learning tricks.
Now Harvard researchers have shown that adult mice who lack a certain protein have brains that retain the plasticity of much younger mice. Put another way, mice that have protein are less able to make new connections (Science, Aug. 25 2006, “Learning Induces Long-Term Potentiation in the Hippocampus”).

Historically executive incompetence has been conceptualized in terms of a manager not having the characteristics of success (Bray and Howard, Longitudinal Studies of Adult Psychological Development, 1983). These included the tricks of being able to delegate, to maintain relationships with peers and direct reports, and to build a team.

However, I believe the notion that executives are set in their ways and unable to learn is just not true. My experience is working with top executives, helping the best of the best to get even better through some season of derailment. I have found that the best want to learn more so they can be the best that they can be.

So how do you teach these old dogs new tricks? You have to do it in small amounts so they get success along the way. You also need to help them see how these new skills will help them reach some higher goal they desire.

This reminds me of story of virtuoso violinist. An interviewer asked him, what is your number one regret? He replied, “I should have become the violinist I knew I could have become.”

The interviewer said in disbelief, “But you are the maestro of maestros, the best of the best.”

What the world-renowned violinist wanted was to be even better. Likewise executives. All top executives are success driven. They are constantly trying to get better at their craft and become all that they can be.

Take Peter, for example. Peter, president of a Fortune 500 subsidiary company, was the most creative genius I have ever met. His level of intuition and ability to analyze problems were superb. He was also one of the best negotiators I have ever seen. Peter picked up subtle nuances and would instantaneously have the perfect retort ready.

With all of those skills it was amazing why the corporate vice president of human resources invited me in to coach Peter.

Peter never listened to anybody who worked for him. He felt because he was the smartest person in room (no doubt true), listening just wasted time because he already knew what was best. Not surprisingly, there was a mass exodus of top talent from the company.

I coached Peter to listen using small steps. First, I just had him practice not talking for awhile while his subordinates spoke. Next we had him practice nodding while others spoke. Then, while going through the motions, something amazing happened. He actually heard what they were saying. “I sure learned a lot more listening than when I was talking.” For Peter, listening was a whole new trick and he continued doing it.

The Prodigal Executive Myth That A Leopard Can't Change Its Spots

There is an old adage that says “A leopard can’t change its spots,” which means we cannot change our innate nature. The saying has been around for thousands of years and is derived from the biblical Book of Jeremiah: “Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots?”

While there is much truth in that adage, it is not true 100 percent of the time in the workplace. I’ve found again and again that toxic executives can change their personality, even if they have been that way for a long time. Personality is malleable if there is a reward for doing so. Prodigal executives can manage the personality they are given if there is a good reason.

Meet Beverly, an executive with a large financial institution. She was exquisitely ambitious, highly focused, task driven, willing go the extra mile to make sure everything done and done correctly. Beverly truly was a star performer in anyone’s business model. However, she was seen as unapproachable and devoid of any emotion by the people around her.

What got her off track was not unusual. When we over use our strengths they become a weakness. Beverly was so task oriented she forgot to take care of people around her. This caused conflicts with her direct reports and a noticeable drop in their productivity. She wasn’t making a personal connection with her business connections.

When it comes to improving and maintaining our relationships with others, Stephen Covey’s metaphor of the Emotional Bank Account is probably one of the most helpful ideas ever created for the developing personal relationships at work (Covey, Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, 1989).

Covey says anyone with whom we have a relationship with, whether it be our coworkers, family or friends, we maintain a personal “emotional” bank account with them. This account begins with a zero balance. And just as with any bank account, you need to make deposits before you can make withdrawals. Deposits are things like sincere compliments and personal interest in the other person’s goals. When you ask direct reports to work late or do extra work, that is a withdrawal. If you haven’t made the deposits beforehand then you have nothing to withdraw and the account becomes overdrawn. As a general rule, the formula is you need to make five deposits for every withdrawal. Because Beverly was not doing this, her direct reports greatly resented her.

Sometimes all that is needed to change is new information. With coaching Beverly was able to show more interest in people. She now views the people equation as another part of her job, a necessary component to get the job done.