See Them to Lead Them

Three years ago, I ran an experiment at my local supermarket (Kowalski's) where I regularly shop. The experiment was like a phase I study: see what happens when you do something.

The something I did was to start "seeing" the employees. To get curious about them. Of course, I already did "see" them every time I shopped there, but for the experiment, the test was to actually see them as a human being, and not just as a body doing a task. In other words, I sought to reduce the sense of transactionality that seems increasingly prevalent in our modern society.

The experiment was to:

1. Note the employee's names on their shirts and actually use them in my interactions with them.
2. Look at each employee in the eyes when using their name.
3. Ask a simple question like "How is it going?" or "How has your day been?"
4. Then, if possible, and if the moment is appropriate, ask them something about themselves or find something to compliment them on.
5. Wrap it all up with a dash of gratitude by saying something like: "Hey Ben, great to see you, and thanks so much!"

Previous iterations of Michael Maddaus used to hate asking such vague questions like "How's it going," thinking that it was a waste of time since I, of course, had a lot of other more important shit to do. Plus, not only did I not really want to know "How's it going," but the answer was almost always something like "Great, thanks," even if their life was falling apart. We all do it every day. My attitude was stop the gibberish and get stuff done.

I started with the meat department as it felt more contained and doable in the beginning. So, instead of just pulling up with my cart, waiting to be helped, and telling them what I wanted, I would look at them directly in the eyes and say something along the lines of: "Hi (Ben, Zeke, Rick, Jordan, or Chris), How's it going?" or "How you doing?"

Once I had the ball rolling, I decided to throw in this tidbit: "By the way, my name is Michael, and it's nice to meet you." This often led to an unexpected handshake, a big smile, and a "Nice to meet you too!"

The results of the phase I trial:

1. Global observations: Except for one carryout fellow (Nate - who to this day avoids eye contact and small pleasantries with me), whenever I wander through the store and an employee sees me, their eyes light up - even sparkle a bit (no BS here) and spontaneous smiles erupt, followed by a "Hi Mike, how is it going?"
2. Meat department: Now whenever I approach the meat counter, whoever sees me first moves immediately to greet and help me. It feels like a bit of competition between them to see who can get to me first. The degree of the new responsiveness and attention is insane. All the butchers now bend over backward to ensure I get the best piece of whatever I am buying. Plus, talk about being efficient - every one of them knows exactly what I like, so when I say two pieces of salmon, we don't have to go through which kind, how big, etc. They just execute.
3. Checkout: I now know every cashier and I see so many possible life stories. Anton, a big guy who loves food and clued me into the fresh ramps they just got in, and Leslie, an older woman with long, curly grey hair that is beautiful who wears a thicket of thin bracelets on one arm and sports a pair of funky glasses. And then Chad, the slowest cashier in the midwest and a crushingly slow speaker but very meticulous. I admit I tend to avoid his lane whenever possible. I enjoy wondering about their lives and what brought them to be a cashier - young and old - at this time of their lives. It's interesting.
4. Carryouts - these folks were a bit more challenging to break down the wall as most are young teens with a few older folks. Unlike the adult employees, the teens were always taken aback when I used their names for the first time. A look of reserved surprise would sweep across their faces, likely because someone actually noticed them and used their first name. I stuck with it, and eventually, they all became "store friends." I even learned that one of them, Tony, was a writer and was gearing up to self-publish his first book!

There is another and unanticipated result that needs to be published: the impact of the trial on me. I now look forward to seeing my new friends at the store. My heart is warmed whenever I enter the store, as if I am with "family." I know the word family is strong, but we can have different families, if you will, in different walks of life, if the relationships are nurtured. I now savor my trips to the store. And on those days when I am lost in the mindless trance of thinking of myself and any issues I have, my store friends are often a beacon of relief from my self-absorption.

This reminds me of Italy, where they still have small butcher shops and other specialty stores where, over time, they become part of the fabric of one's life. That fabric is fraying here in our drive to efficiency and task accomplishment and it is robbing us of our humanity. It reminds me of the emotional and social perils of "convenience culture," so eloquently described by Oliver Burkeman in his brilliant book Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals.

This business of "seeing" people is even more crucial in the workplace and especially for anyone in a leadership position, which is pretty much all of us. This was driven home to me by the book It's Your Ship by Mike Abrashoff, the former Naval captain of the guided-missile destroyer the USS Benfold, and my recent interview with him for The Resilient Surgeon podcast.

I recommend the book as one of the best leadership books I have ever read. And I have read many.

Mike grew up with his six siblings, Aunt, and parents in a small home with one bathroom! He went to the Naval Academy partly because he played football well and, by his admission, was not one of their top students. One professor even told him that he would not make it as a naval officer. Not a great start.

The first ship he was assigned to was the USS Albert David, a "rusty frigate." Per a hallowed Naval Academy tradition, he wrote the captain of the Albert as soon as he received his assignment to introduce himself and ask what his assignment on the ship would be. The captain not only did not write back (as is part of custom), but when Mike reported for duty, he asked if he received it and said, "Yeah, I have it here in my in-basket." He turned out to be a tyrant at sea, an officer who yelled at people with veins popping out, which created constant tension on the ship.

After several years and other assignments, Mike became a Commander and assumed command of his first ship, the USS Benfold. When a ship is handed over from one captain to a new one, the pomp and ceremony are off the charts. The ship is buffed up big time and repainted, and a very formal ceremony is held on the ship. After an Admiral gave a speech for over an hour, the departing captain walked down the gangplank with his family, and the crew cheered and jeered wildly. Not because they liked him, but because he was leaving.

Mike said he had never seen such a display of disrespect in his time in the Navy. The experience was an inflection point for him. He was terrified of it happening to him, and he vowed to himself to do things differently than the command and control culture that dominated the military.

To quote Mike: "Listening to those raucous jeers, I realized that I had a long way to go before I really took command of Benfold."

As Mike was wrestling with how to shed his old authoritarian and command and control leadership style he had been inculcated with at the Academy and in his early career, he read some exit surveys conducted by the military to find out why people were not re-enlisting.

He assumed low pay would be the top reason, but in fact, it was fifth. Here are the top five reasons people did not reenlist, in rank order:

1. Not being treated with respect or dignity
2. Being prevented from making an impact on the organization.
3. Not being listened to.
4. Not being rewarded with more responsibility.
5. Low pay.

Civilian surveys show the very same thing - no surprise. What most people want is to be seen, heard, and valued.

To quote Mike: "my organizing principle was simple: The key to being a successful skipper is to see the ship through the eyes of the crew. Only then can you find out what is really wrong and then help fix it. Instead of constantly scrutinizing the members of my crew with the presumption that they would screw up, I assumed that they wanted to do well and be the best. And that’s when I knew that I had taken command—not just in name, but in truth."

And here is where it gets really interesting (and relevant to my phase I experiment). Mike interviewed each sailor on the ship after he assumed command, individually—all 310 of them.

Here is what he asked each of the 310 sailors:

1. Their names.
2. Where were they from?
3. Did they have a significant other and/or children, and what were their names?
4. Did they have special memories from high school or their hometowns?
5. Did they have goals for their time in the Navy?
6. What goals did they have for their future?
7. Why did they join the Navy (so many were leaving bad environments)?
8. What did they like most about the Benfold? The least? What would they change about the Benfold or their job if they could?

Then, and get this, he made a card for each sailor and stapled a photo to the card with the information about them that he had gleaned from the interviews. Soon after, he came to know each of the 310 sailors by name and would wander the ship, and now, like me at the grocery store, he knew them all as human beings.

To quote Mike again: "Something happened in me as a result of those interviews. I came to respect my crew enormously. No longer were they nameless bodies at which I barked orders. I realized that they were just like me: They had hopes, dreams, loved ones, and they wanted to believe that what they were doing was important. And they wanted to be treated with respect."

The impact of this, and other things Mike did, was enormous. He had command for only two years, and these are the results:

1. In fiscal 1998, the Benfold operated on 75 percent of its budget, not because they consciously tried to save money, but because the sailors were free to question conventional ways of doing things that ended up saving money.
2. Readiness indicators soared, and the Benfold became the go-to ship in the Persian Gulf during the Iraq crisis in 1997.
3. The Benfold had the highest gunnery score in the Pacific Fleet.
4. The Benfold set the record for the Navy's redeployment training cycle. They went from an average of 52 days all the way down to 19, which gave the crew 33 extra days of precious shore leave.
5. The Benfold's retention rate when Mike assumed command was 28% – some of the lowest in the Navy - whereas the average for the Navy was 50%. Under Mike's command, Benfold's retention rates went up 100% for the two most critical categories and over 90% overall.

To quote Mike again: "The fact is that the new environment aboard Benfold created a company of collaborators who were flourishing in a spirit of relaxed discipline, creativity, humor, and pride."

The Navy noticed. Just one year after he took command, just one year, Benfold earned the Spokane Trophy" - an award for the best surface combatant ship in the Pacific Fleet."

I will leave you with this poem by Nirekshitha Kunder:

You see me, yet you don't see me!

I am camouflaged in a container

of your expectations and prejudice!

Can you really see me?

Do you really want to?

Thanks for reading, and please if you have any thoughts you would like to share, please post them in the feedback or send them to me at michael@michaelmaddaus.com.

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