their shortcomings justify my failure

"You can't focus on results because in the box you're focused on yourself."

...Even most of the people you've encountered in your career who you think are results-focused really aren't. They value results primarily for the purpose of creating or sustaining their own stellar reputations. And you can tell because they generally don't feel that other people's results are as important as their own. Think about it - most people aren't nearly so happy when other people in the organization succeed as they are when they themselves do. So they run all over people trying to get only their own results - with devastating effects. They might beat their chests and preach focusing on results, but it's a lie. In the box, they, like everyone else, are just focused on themselves. But in the box, they, like everyone else, can't see it.

And it's even worse than that. Because, remember, in the box we provoke others to get in the box. We withhold information, for example, which gives others reason to do the same. We try to control others, which provokes the very resistance that we feel the need to control all the more. We withhold resources from others, who then feel the need to protect resources from us. We blame others for dragging their feet and in so doing give them reason to feel justified in dragging their feet all the more. And so on.

And through it all we think that all our problems would be solved if Jack wouldn't do this or if Linda wouldn't do that or if XYZ department would just straighten up of if the company would get a clue. But it's a lie. It's a lie even if Jack, Linda, XYZ department, and the company need to improve, which they surely do. Because when I'm blaming them, I'm not doing it because they need to improve, I'm blaming them because their shortcomings justify my failure to improve. 

So, one person in an organization, by being in the box and failing to focus on results, provokes his or her coworkers to fail to focus on results as well. Collusion spreads far and wide, and the end result is that coworkers position themselves against coworkers, workgroups against workgroups, departments against departments. People who came together to help an organization succeed actually end up delighting in each other's failures and resenting each other's successes.

Leadership and Self-deception: Getting Out of the Box by Arbinger Institute. Berrett-Koehler. 2002. p.105-107

the newspaper test

 

"I ask the managers to judge every action they take -- not just by legal standards, though obviously, that's the first test -- but also by what I call the 'newspaper test,'" explained Buffett.

Basically, if an article "written by a smart but pretty unfriendly reporter" appeared in a local newspaper about a decision or action you made, and your family, friends, and neighbors read it, how would you feel about it?

"It's pretty simple," says Buffett. "If [your decision or action] passes that test, it's okay. If anything is too close to the lines, it's out."

Buffett's newspaper test, if you pass it, can take you far because in business, if your reputation fails, game over. 

"We have all the money we need," the billionaire said. "We'd like to have more, but we can afford to lose money. But we can't afford to lose reputation."

Buffett's reputation line was not a fleeting one-time remark to pass off to a student. It's a life lesson he's lived by as the chairman and CEO of Berkshire Hathaway. "It takes 20 years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it. If you think about that you'll do things differently."

Marcel Schwantes

"20 Years Ago, Warren Buffett Shared a Brutal Truth That Most People Have Yet to Learn," Inc. May 5, 2021. 

having skin in the game

Over the entrance to a small paelstra –– a wrestling school — in ancient Greece was emblazoned this short phrase: Strip or Retire.

During this period, men competed in sports and exercised in the nude. Thus the inscription served as a challenge to each man entering the gymnasium: come in, participate, and struggle — or keep out. Mere spectators were not welcome.

To be part of this wrestling school, you were literally required to put your skin in the game.

In antiquity, such a requirement extended far beyond athletics; a man could not participate in civic life, business transactions, war, or philosophical debates unless he had metaphorical skin in the game — unless he was willing to risk his life, and what was even more valuable, his honor....

In times past, those in power accrued both privileges and responsibilities — with greater status came greater exposure to risk. It was surely good to be king, but you also had the “Sword of Damocles” hanging over you; your decisions could bring dire consequences, and people were always gunning to take you down. Military generals, rulers, criminal bosses, and even prominent writers and scientists accepted both greater status, and with it the persistent stress, fear, and anxiety of failing and making the wrong move.

In the modern age, this dynamic has been flipped. As philosopher Nassim Taleb argues in Antifragile: “At no point in history have so many non-risk-takers, that is, those with no personal exposure, exerted so much control.”...

In contrast to those who keep the upside of risk-taking while foisting the downside on others, are those who continue to stake their very reputation and whole being on their words and actions. Among those with skin in the game; entrepreneurs, business owners, artists, citizens, writers, and laboratory and field experimenters (as opposed to scientists and researchers who work only in the realms of theory, observation, and data-mining). These are the folks who take their own risks, and keep both their own upside and their own downside.

There is also a tier above this group — those rarified few who have put not only skin, but soul in the game. These are they who take risks, accept potential harm and hardship, and invest themselves in something not only for their own sake, but on behalf of others. These are the folks who make up the heroic class. Included amongst those with soul in the game; saints, warriors, prophets, philosophers, innovators, maverick scientists, journalists who expose fraud and corruption, great writers, artists, and even some artisans who add insight and meaning to our cultural storehouse through their craftsmanship and wares. Rebels, dissidents, and revolutionaries of all kinds are also of course worthy of the title....

Influencing others without skin in the game is dishonorable. As [philosopher Nassim] Taleb succinctly puts it: “I find it profoundly unethical to talk without doing, without exposure to harm, without having one’s skin in the game, without having something at risk. You express your opinion; it can hurt others (who rely on it), yet you incur no liability. Is this fair?”...

That greater participation and/or power requires greater skin in the game is truly one of the fundamental tenets of human morality.

There is no growth and joy without risk and struggle. While putting one’s skin in the game is both moral and honorable, it is not an entirely altruistic endeavor. It also greatly benefits yourself — not always monetarily (though it can), but in refining your character and your manliness. Manhood is struggle — full stop. Outsourcing the risk side of your pursuits puts you in the position of spectator rather than doer. As Jay B. Nash writes in Spectatoritis, while sitting in the stands is safer, it is far less satisfying than being in the arena.

Brett and Kate McKay

Strip or Retire: Why Every Man Should Have Skin in the Game. The Art of Manliness. 8/9/2015

cultivate a reputation for excellence

Work is an antidote for anxiety, an ointment for sorrow, and a doorway to possibility. Whatever our circumstances in life... let us do the best we can and cultivate a reputation for excellence in all that we do. Let us set our minds and bodies to the glorious opportunity for work that each new day presents.

Dieter F. Uchtdorf

“Two Principles for Any Economy,” Ensign, Nov 2009, 55–58

day after solid day

When he began working in New Orleans, eleven years earlier, Zeitoun labored for just about every contractor in the city, painting, hanging Sheetrock, tiling – anything they needed – until he was hired by a man named Charlie Saucier. Charlie owned his own company, had built it from scratch. He’d become wealthy, and was hoping to retire before his knees gave out on him.

Charlie had a son in his late teens, and he wanted nothing more than to leave the company to his son. He loved his son, but his son was not a worker, he was shifty and ungrateful. He failed to show up for work, and when he did, he worked listlessly, and condescended to his father’s employees.

At the time, Zeitoun didn’t have a car, so he rode to Charlie’s work sites on a bike – a ten-speed he bought for forty dollars. One day, when Xeitoun was already in danger of being late, the bike blew a tire. After riding on the rim for half a mile, he gave up. He needed to get four miles across the city in twenty minutes, and it was looking like he would be late for work for the first time in his life. He couldn’t leave the bike and run – he needed that bike – and he couldn’t ride on the flat tire, so he threw the bike over his shoulders and started jogging. He was panicking. If he was late for this job, what would happen to his reputation? Charlie would be disappointed, and he might not hire him again. And what if Charlie talked to other contractors, and found he couldn’t recommend Zeitoun? The consequences could be far-reaching. Work was a pyramid, he knew, built on day after solid day.

He ran faster. He would be tardy, but if he sprinted, he had a shot at being no more than fifteen minutes late. It was August and the humidity was profound. A mile or so into his run, already soaked in sweat, a truck pulled up next to him.

“What are you doing?” a voice asked. Without breaking stride, Zeitoun turned to see who it was. He figured it was some smart aleck poking fun at the man running along the road with a bike over his shoulders. But instead it was his boss, Charlie Saucier.

“I’m going to the job,” Zeitoun said. He was still running; in hindsight he should have stopped at this point, but he was in a rhythm and he continued, with the truck puttering beside him.

Charlie laughed. “Throw your bike in the back.”

As they drove, Charlie looked over to Zeitoun. “You know, I’ve been at this for thirty years, and I think you’re the best worker I’ve ever had.”

They were driving to the job site and Zeitoun had finally managed to relax, knowing he wouldn’t be fired that day.

“I have one guy,” Charlie continued, “he says he can’t come to work because his car won’t start. I have another guy, he doesn’t come because he slept late. He slept late! Another guy, his wife kicked him out of the house or something. So he doesn’t show. I have twenty or thirty employees, and ten of them show up to work any given day.”

They were at a stop sign, and Charlie took a long look at Zeitoun. “Then there’s you. You have the perfect excuse. All you have is a bike, and the bike has a flat. But you’re carrying your bike on your back. You’re the only guy I’ve ever known who would have done something like that.”

Dave Eggers

Zeitoun. Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. 2010.