Managing Leadership^®

Have you ever been to a sporting event, and seen someone try to initiate a wave around the stadium by himself (it’s always a “he”)? Looked pretty silly, didn’t he? Sometimes he will become indignant at the unresponsiveness, and attempt to motivate the crowd, first with passionate exhortations, then with scolding reproaches, and finally with desperate pleading. At last he resumes his seat, surrounded by averted glances and embarrassed silence. Wave over.

Which, of course, raises the question: where do the real ones come from? Do they arise (with your indulgence) from a peculiar tide in the affairs of sports fans?

Perhaps that is precisely the case:

Somehow, a thrill sweeps the crowd, an enthusiasm for a collective expression of fun and energy. Seemingly of its own accord, it springs to life at one point, is picked up immediately by neighbors, and rolls around the arena. Sometimes it takes off from the point of origin in both directions, and the two crests are followed with excitement and anticipation until they crash together at the other side of the arena, to the roaring approval of the crowd.

A few years ago, The Economist published a report about a study attempting to discover where languages might come from. The researchers developed a clever experiment involving human subjects who were separated and unknown to each other, but sitting before connected computers. They each saw a diagram of a building with several rooms. They knew that they were in one room, and that the other player was in another. Their task was to wind up in the same room. But the experiment was organized in a way that required them to devise their own language to coordinate their meeting.

Fascinatingly, within a few hours, ninety percent of the player teams managed to do just that. Their languages were all different, and built upon different logical structures. Still, they ultimately accomplished their rather complex purpose.

But none were started by one player imposing an idea on the other.

Rather, the communication systems began organizing themselves once the players stopped attempting to drive the process, and began yielding to it. Once one player adopted a symbol used by the other, progress accelerated and the likelihood of success jumped dramatically.

The point here is that the process was initiated by the act of adopting, not of providing the adopted symbol. There was no mechanism for conveying argument or influence between the computers nor, even, due to the way the screen scrolling and refreshing was managed, plain stubbornness. Any attempts to exert leadership were observable only by their originator – not by their target.

The key to success was in entering the dynamics of the game, not in endeavoring to dominate or influence them. Like the wave, no one really knows where the languages came from; just that they happened when accepted by everyone, rather than when imposed by anyone.

Where do you suppose organizational leadership might come from?

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Today’s tips: Speaking of establishing communication, please see this piece, by the keeper of Sippican Cottage, asking if you know enough to do that with – well, stop over and see.

And speaking of getting onto the same wavelength, please be sure to see why Miki Saxon argues that you need to make waves first; you need to create dissonance before you can resolve it into new harmonies.

Finally, as mysterious as these dynamics may be, over time they do reveal many of their rules. Among the very best ways to learn what they are is by reading the powerful stories Wally Bock uses to elaborate them in his free weekly newsletter. But here’s the rule for getting that: subscribe to his Three Star Leadership Blog.

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Technorati Tags: motivate, Economist, language, purpose, communication, process, influence, leadership, organizational leadership, Sippican Cottage, Miki Saxon, Wally Bock