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“In response to the question on why some teams are so toxic, may I tell you a story?” asked Faizal, as he settled back into the sofa with a dew-dotted glass in his hand.
Faizal’s words were in response to my describing my meeting with Karla and her descriptions of the toxic behaviours of her team. I had just posed the three questions Karla had asked me at the end of our meeting :
“Of course, Faizal!” said Chow Yen, “I am a sucker for stories! Go for it!” He, too, held a glass with golden yellow liquid that sparkled in the mood lighting in the lounge.
“Me too!” said Anders, “I have often given this question thought, and would really like to hear your reasons for a team becoming or being toxic.” Anders held a plate of tuna sandwiches that he was demolishing rapidly.
(If you are new to the CEO Chronciles, a quick catch up : The Gang Of Four was the informal group of four friends – Anders, Chow Yen, Faizal and I – which met once every 5-6 weeks to catch up, and more importantly, to discuss issues and problems each of us was facing and to find approaches and solutions together. Today, we were in the bar lounge in St. Regis).
“Great,”said Faizal. “It was 2008 and I had just taken over as CEO of ABC Limited…”
ABC Limited was an established privately held Group headquartered in Singapore. It was established in 1985, and had steadily grown into a transnational company.
ABC Singapore, in addition to the corporate office, had two business units (BUs), one focusing on engineering products and the other delivering diverse maintenance and repair services.
After I settled down, (said Faizal) I noticed that the two teams were very different. They were each on a separate floor, below the corporate office. The product BU floor had a subdued air to it. The services BU, on the other hand, seemed full of laughter and light.
Financially, both BUs were performing similarly, with similar toplines and acceptable margins. However, on closer analysis, the product BU numbers seemed to have a gradual downward trend, and the services BU was clearly moving upwards.
Operationally, I noticed that the product BU had a high attrition rate. The BU had separated from 18 people in the last year, out of a total of 42.
My antennae tingled and I decided to learn more. I started with talking to my Group CFO, Sheetal.
The discussion was not comfortable. Sheetal hemmed and hawed and spoke in generic phrases, which was very unlike her normally frank approach.
I then spoke to our Group COO, Geoff. He, too, seemed to dance around the questions I asked, not committing to anything.
I had had enough. I invited Sheetal and Geoff out for a drink that evening, and once we were settled, I looked at them seriously.
“Guys,” I said, “quit fooling around. I want you to tell me what is going on with the product BU. No hedging and feinting, please!”
Sheetal and Geoff looked at each other. They had been working together for the past 4 years, and knew each other well. Some kind of signal passed between the two, and Geoff leaned forward.
“Well, Faizal,” he started, “Morton was hired by your predecessor about two and a half years ago. I believe that both of them, ahh, hmm, share a nationality? And have been friends for some time. Do you get me?”
“Am beginning to,” I said, the light slowly dawning, “please go on.”
“Um, well,” Geoff was clearly uncomfortable, “so Morton was brought in as the General Manager of the product BU without much involvement by any of us. He was like, what you say, a special case?”
“Okay,” I said, “I get where you are going. And then?”
Sheetal took over. “Morton is, uh, different,” she said, “he comes from a different industry, and thinks and behaves differently…”
I sat up as straight as I could in the soft lounge settee.
“Sheetal, Geoff, much as I respect your reticence and sensitivity,” I said, firmly, “if we have a problem with one of our teams, I need to know it, and the sooner the better. If you keep throwing euphemisms at me, how am I expected to analyse the issues involved?
Finally, the floodgates opened. I listened and listened and took notes.
And I understood the problem.
The next morning, I called the Chief HR Officer to my room.
“Anna,” I asked, “May I see the exit interviews for these ex-employees?” I gave her the list of the 18 people who had left Geoff’s team in the previous 12 months.
Anna glanced at the list. “Why do you need…?” she began, and then she recognised the names. “Oh…” She looked at me for a few moments, poised to say something. Then she rose to leave. “You will have it in an hour, Faizal,” she said.
I spent the afternoon reading 18 documents that confirmed the understanding that had dawned on me the previous evening.
The words, “self-involved”, ‘apathetic”, “selfish”, “untrustworthy”, “incapable” and “incompetent” were repeated too many times to have been missed.
My opinion of my predecessor dropped more than a bit.
The exit interview minutes described a leader who had no right to that title; a boss in name only, with little interest in anything other than self-interest; a manager who abdicated his duties; a teammate who had long forsaken his team; a professional who blamed his incompetence on his subordinates.
At about 5:00 PM, I asked Anna to see me again. She did, but her feet dragged as she walked into my room.
“You know about this,” I said. It was not a question, really.
“Yes,” Anna answered. She couldn’t meet my eyes.
“You are the head of HR,” I said, trying to maintain a neutral tone. “It is your responsibility to…”
I stopped. Anna was working hard to control herself.
“I tried!” she said. “Every time, I shared the feedback with the CEO. Each time, I recommended that we needed to act on this! But…” she realised that she was raising her voice, and paused.
When Anna had recovered a little, she continued. “Every time, Faizal, every time I was told that the matter has been ‘noted’ and that appropriate counselling will be given. That I don’t need to worry. That I should leave it with the CEO.”
“And?” I asked gently.
“And nothing,” Anna said, frustrated. “Good people kept leaving, and we took no action. Other teams complained, and we took no action. It was almost as if Morton was being protected…”
“It’s not your fault, Anna,” I said, as comfortingly as I could. “You did your best.”
Anna looked at me, her expression a mix of sadness and disappointment.
“No, I did not do my best,” she said, “That is why I am feeling so terrible.”
Before I left that day, I called Sarang, the General Manager of the Services BU, and asked him to drop in for a chat.
I sped through the pleasantries.
“Sarang,” I said, “let me get to the point of this meeting. You have been in this company for more than 7 years. You are a smart, capable manager and leader. There is no question but that you know about the problems in the Product BU?”
“Yes, Faizal,” Sarang answered, without hesitation, “I know.”
“What did you do about it, if anything?”
“Me? Nothing,” said Sarang. “I don’t have anything to do with that BU.”
“I hear you, Sarang,” I said, “the question is why. You are part of this company’s senior management. If you have been seeing a dysfunctional team for nearly 4 years, you should have intervened.”
“Honestly, Faizal,” said Sarang, “I am focused on my BU. That is what I am paid for. My team is doing well, and I have achieved all my targets. I don’t see why I should interfere or intervene in another BU’s issues.”
“Oh,” I said, “fair enough. Have you heard of a poet named John Donne?”
Sarang’s brow creased. “No, sorry, never hear of him.”
“Thanks, Sarang,” I said, “Just check John Donne out on the internet, will you? He has written a wonderful poem on islands and continents…”
Faizal leaned back, and took a deep gulp of his drink, and sat back, smiling at us.
Chow Yen sat forward. “Okay, Faizal, great story, but don’t keep us in suspense any longer! So, what are the main causes for some teams to be so toxic?”
Faizal grinned. “Oh, I thought you would have got that from the article’s sub-titles,” he remarked. “Let me sum it up for you. Teams are or become toxic if,
“I am not saying these are the only causes or symptoms. But these are the big ones, I believe.”
Anders lifted his glass. “Excellent Faizal, a well woven story! Thank you!
I raised my glass, too. “Great narrative, Faizal, you had us on the edges of our seats. One question before we disperse – what did you do next?”
Faizal cocked his eyebrow. “Isn’t that Karla’s next question, Shesh – ‘How can toxicity be removed from a team’? Shouldn’t that be addressed in the next article?
****
Faizal has shared four causes of toxic teams. There are many more causes – can you share any that you have come across? Either in your own company or a situation that you have encountered?
Please send them to me, either as a comment or as a PM. Let us work to find a solution to this unfortunately common problem.
Cheers | Shesh | Singapore | 02 June 2020.
Post Script :
#ceochronicles #careeradvice #careers #bestadvice #hiringandpromotion #personaldevelopment #success #leadership
The article, “Four Monkeys & An Elephant” narrated two fables about how we often shackle ourselves with past practices and negative self-belief. Subsequently, “How To Escape From Prison” described how a company broke away from its shackles to find a new and better future. Finally, this story, “Victim to CEO” is about how an individual finds his way to success breaking the shackles that threatened to imprison him.
The boy stood at the edge of the playground.
His classmates were kicking the football, running and laughing.
Two of his classmates ran past him. One looked in his direction.
“See, there’s Black Sambo! Hey Black Sambo!”
The other looked back.
“Hey, Blackie! What are you doing here? Go wash yourself!”
The boy turned to go. Just then, two seniors walked by. As they looked at him, one said something to the other, and both laughed.
“…what the hell does he eat? How did he get so fat…” their words trailed as they went past.
The boy dipped his head and walked to the classroom. He pulled out a book from his bag and started to read, even though his eyes were too moist to make out the words.
The boy looked around at the vast wedding hall. Boy, was it huge! And so many people…
“Hello, boy!” It was an older couple dressed to their nines. “And who are you?”
The boy mumbled his parents’ names.
“Ah!” the man said and began moving away.
“…his brothers seem to be smart and handsome young men. But this one, no one knows where he came from. I hear they wanted a girl, you know. What a shock it must have been to get a fat darkie instead…”
The boy walked to the side doors of the hall, and sat on the steps, and pulled out a book.
The boy stood in front of the teacher’s desk.
She looked at him sternly. “If this is your standard of work, you are never going to amount to anything! How can you make so many mistakes? Why can’t you check your work?”
The boy lowered his head and said nothing. He heard his classmates tittering behind him.
“Useless. Absolutely useless!” the teacher said. “Go back to your seat!”
The boy walked past his parents’ bedroom.
“He wants to attend singing classes,” he heard his mother say.
“But he can’t sing. He can’t hold a tune!” his father replied.
“Yes, but I don’t want to hurt him. So, I told him that the teacher accepts only girls.”
Their voices faded as he moved on.
The young man sat on the college dormitory terrace, back against the wall. Four others lounged around him. In the centre were two bottles of cheap rum and a pile of potato wafers.
“So, what’s your story?” asked one of his friends, “What made you so good in academics? You’ve been topping every subject, every term! Were you always like this?”
The young man looked up and laughed shortly. “Absolutely not! Things were terrible when I was younger.”
“When I was a boy, no one believed in me. Not my family, not my teachers, and definitely not my classmates. So, I had no choice. I had learn how to ignore everyone else’s opinion and believe in myself.”
“Then, I realized that I did not have many talents. I wasn’t too intelligent. But I wanted to be someone. I wanted to be worthy of my belief. I learned that even if I am not clever, I can still work hard and start early. So, from the first day of the semester, I read the subjects again and again, until I understand them completely. I solve every question, twice or thrice, if necessary. I revise continuously. Basically, I make up for my shortfalls by planning, preparing and working.”
Another friend spoke. “Isn’t it painful? Is this really what you want to do, or like doing?”
“Well”, said the young man, “I read somewhere that if you can’t be with the one you love, then you should love the one you’re with. To me this means – be happy in whatever I do, rather than just try and do what makes me happy. Does this make sense?”
The friend laughed. “I am not sure. So, let’s see – you believe in yourself, push yourself to your limits and try to find happiness in whatever you do. Most people would find that much effort and commitment too difficult to sustain!”
The young man nodded. “Nothing worthwhile is ever easy,” he said, as he sipped his drink.
The man adjourned the meeting. His team and he were exhausted. It had been a grueling few weeks.
“One last word from me,” he said. “Thank you. Thank you to each and every one of you for the amazing efforts and commitment you have shown over the past two months. We have done everything we can. Now, win or lose, you are all my heroes!”
Smiles and applause broke out across the room.
“Also, for those of you are not going straight to bed, drinks are on me!”
His words were greeted by a cheer.
Later that evening, at the bar, he looked around at his team with affection.
“Sir?”
The man turned. “Yes?”
“I’m not sure if this is the right time to ask,” said the young executive, “but I heard that you have been promoted more times than anyone else. How did you manage this?”
“Well,” the man said, “I have often asked myself this, and this is what I have come to believe.
“I really hope to be like you someday!” said the young man.
The man smiled. “That’s a nice thing to say. But take my advice – be who you are, and not what others are or expect you to be…”
The man looked out of the window. Well, the view from the CEO’s office is not very different from the other offices, he thought to himself.
He turned and walked to his desk. Behind it hung the poster he had had with him for more than two decades. He read it aloud as he had done a thousand times before :
“A flower does not care about what people think of it. It just blooms.”
He sat down in his chair.
That was a long and amazing journey, he mused. So much luck, so many good friends. So many wonderful teachers and mentors. Such superb colleagues and teams. Fantastic opportunities and amazing outcomes…
Well, I have reached my destination. Time to deliver expectations…
He leaned forward and opened his laptop.
So, here are the five take-aways from this story – so that you, too, can achieve whatever you want :
Could you let me know, in the comments, which of the five is your favorite? Do you have a take-away that I may have missed? If so, please share it in the comments, someone struggling out there might badly need it.
I hope you have enjoyed reading this installment of CEO Chronicles. If you want to ‘be who you are, and bloom in your career’, send me a message or write to me.
Cheers,
Shesh.
(Singapore / 12 November 2019)
Post Script :
Victim To CEO / Victim To CEO / Victim To CEO / Victim To CEO / Victim To CEO