This morning at Menlo was mostly like every other morning. People arrive, start the first pot of coffee, find their pair partner, sit down, review their story cards on their project's work authorization board, and get to work.
A couple of Menlonians sent in 'unplanned out messages' saying they wouldn't be in today. Not unusual for a team of over 50 people that we might have a couple of people out unexpectedly on any given morning. The CEO, business guy, entrepreneur in me laments the loss of work these 'outs' represent, while the humanistic leader in me appreciates we've created an environment where this doesn't stop any planned work on client projects... it might just slow things down a bit. We have an excellent system in place for backfilling these unexpected work absences.
On one side... we all work so hard to land business, to have all the team members in place to do the work that pays the bills (at work and at home), and I'd love for the team to perform and execute perfectly every single day so that profits rise, customers are happy, and our business grows.
On the other side, I don't want people coming into work when they are not at their best, especially if that might involve bringing in something contagious. (One of the very real downsides of an open and collaborative work environment, especially in a post pandemic world).
There is also a personal responsibility side to this equation that opens up an opportunity for an uncomfortable but important leadership conversation.
Every business and every leader must deal with this dichotomy of high expectations and a recognition that we are fallible humans. People get sick, they forget to set the alarm, they stayed up too late this weekend having fun with family or friends or they forgot about the long-scheduled dentist appointment. Some team members fight through these challenges and still make it in when expected, others succumb and take time off work.
Leaders are human too. They have expectations for their team members, and feel disappointed when expectations aren't met. They assemble reasonable plans and are confounded when even reasonable plans suffer setbacks.
When to intervene?
Sometimes the out-messages themselves are interesting. Some team members can be guilty of oversharing about what they had for dinner last night, how it might have gone bad, what specific ailment it created through the night, etc.
Sometimes they are unprofessional, simply stating something along the lines of 'hey, I wasn't very personally responsible in managing my life yesterday and the net effect is... I won't be able to make it in today.'
In the latter instance, there is an opportunity for gentle leadership. The kind that believes, first and foremost, that the intent of the sender was not to be unprofessional, but rather they didn't fully think through how such a message would be interpreted by others, particularly those depending on them.
These discussions are uncomfortable. Leadership itself is often an act of stepping into this discomfort with grace, humility, and yet with resolve.
As the CEO, I am the leader of leaders. I may not, and often should not, be the one who brings up these conversations directly with the people involved as the weight of my title can bring too much fear into the conversation, and the message itself may be lost. Yet, if no one else is doing it, I need to talk to my leaders and make sure the conversations themselves are happening. Even these conversations can be uncomfortable. If I am uncomfortable, I might be tempted to let it slide this time to go focus on a sales opportunity, or write the next book on joyful leadership ... and in doing so, not actually lead.
Of course, I know (as you do) if these opportunities for gentle leadership are ignored long enough, they lead to bad habits, a decline in morale, and an attitude that, well, anything goes.
And there is no joy in that.
On the other hand, if you engage your employees in an uncomfortable conversation to show them support and help them grow and learn, it will lead to elevated human capacity.
And that is joy.