callmemapo

Recently, I was in a work meeting where I was sharing a proposal for a project. My audience was a more senior person in the company.

At the conclusion of my proposal, the listener shared constructive feedback that I said the word, ‘like’, too often. I know this is something I need to work on, especially when nervous or tired, so I thanked the listener for their feedback.

I then followed up requesting feedback on the substance of the proposal.

The listener’s comments were minimal, and they seemed dismissive of the proposal. However, I was confident the idea was sound, timely, and a solid investment of resources. (Note: I’ve since received confirmation that my hunches on this front were right! Woo!)

I offered to explain the proposal again, assuming my verbal tick had been distracting. But we ran out of time, and that was that.

* * *

At first, I was disappointed in myself for not delivering a more compelling presentation.

After reflecting a bit more, though, I became increasingly disappointed in the listener for not trying harder to engage in the substance of the proposal, despite my verbal tick.

This prompted me to think about the expectations we put on speakers versus listeners in different contexts.

Erin Meyer captures this idea wonderfully in her book, The Culture Map. Although Meyer’s book frames the issue of communication expectations in terms of national and ethnic cultures, I think the idea applies equally to groups within organizations where power dynamics are at play.

These power dynamics may play out across hierarchical (senior / junior) or business (revenue generating / business support) lines.

For example, you could imagine a senior leader overlooking the ideas of a more junior colleague because the ideas were not presented clearly. Or you could imagine an internal client dismissing legal advice from in-house counsel because the advice is not succinct or action-oriented.

In both cases and others like it, strong presentation skills often act as a proxy for competence and elicit confidence that both the speaker and the substance of what they’re communicating is reliable and legitimate. Weak presentation skills, on the other hand, may indicate to the listener that the speaker is less competent or trustworthy. As a result, the listener—rightly or wrongly—may be dismissive of both the speaker and the substance of what the speaker conveyed.

The power dynamics may also arise as a result of bias—including unconscious bias—relating to gender, race, or other group identities.

For example, you could imagine a male listener disregarding the recommendations of a female speaker who exhibits negatively-associated, stereotypically female speaking characteristics (e.g., high pitched voice, filler works such as ‘like’ or ‘um’). Or you could imagine a white female listener dismissing the constructive criticisms delivered by a black female speaker whom the listener associates with harmful stereotypes (e.g., ‘angry black woman’).

Note that in these examples and others like it, the listener is statistically more likely to be more senior within the organization than the speaker. In other words, these power dynamics around communication could deeply undermine diversity, inclusiveness, and equity in the workplace.

* * *

All of this has led me to wonder how often we disregard what someone is trying to convey because the ideas are poorly communicated.

So who’s right?

* As a norm, should listeners be expected to cut through poor presentation and grasp the substance of what’s being conveyed?

* Should the norm be to expect speakers to do a good job of presenting in the first place?

* Or should both speakers and listeners be expected to try their best?

I tend to think the third option is a healthier starting place. After all, the point of communication is, well—to communicate! And since successful communication is a two-way street, why not hold both sides to it?

Admittedly, there may be circumstances where placing heavier expectations on either the listener or speaker is appropriate. For example, a person whose job it is to provide the daily intelligence briefing to the U.S. President may rightfully be expected to have strong presentation skills. Or a team leader facilitating a brainstorm session should arguably be expected to try to grasp all the ideas shared in the session, whether or not the ideas are well-formulated or articulated clearly.

Along those lines: I wonder how effective providing transparency around these types of communication expectations may be? I tend to think transparency would be helpful, though I worry that exclusive or otherwise harmful communication-related behaviors could quickly become the norm under the guise of ‘providing transparency’.

What do you think?

Is there a right answer? How have you navigated these dynamics in your organization?

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit callmemapo.substack.com

After procrastinating for most of the evening, I made my way down to our apartment building’s gym for a workout. It was cardio day, which is never my favorite. 

I put the Olympics coverage on the gym TVs in the background, figuring that seeing elite athletes on the screen would push me to work a little harder. 

So, there I was on the treadmill, feeling like a hamster on a hamster wheel. Women’s gymnastics was on. I’d turned off the TV audio in favor of my own tunes, so all I saw was the competing athletes, and all I heard was my own music. (This time around it was Girl Talk’s All Day—super fun, and if you’ve never heard it I highly, highly encourage it!) 

This audio/video setup resulted in quite a different viewing experience than I’d expected. I couldn’t hear the commentators analyzing what was going on, explaining how difficult or easy something was, or casting judgment on the gymnasts’ execution. And without the commentators to shape my interpretation of what was happening, I saw each gymnast in a different light: as a regular person who had decided to take an extraordinary life journey. 

I could almost feel each gymnast’s anxiety—and courage in the face of it—walking onto one of the biggest sports stages in the world to perform on behalf of their team and their country. I saw the gymnasts give all they had in each performance, despite knowing they’d likely face both criticism and celebration. Most of them bobbled or stumbled at least once, and a couple even fell.

But they all kept going. They were relentless. 

And as I watched these incredible women athletes, it really dawned on me why sport is so important. 

Sport gives us everyday heroes: otherwise ordinary people who have a goal in mind and have pushed through seemingly unconquerable physical and mental hurdles to achieve it; people who have invested their heart and soul and risked everything, win or lose; people who have made themselves totally vulnerable to all who are watching them; people who fail all the time, and get up to try again and again.

These people have an indomitable spirit.

But most importantly: these people also remind us that we might have that same fighting spirit inside ourselves.

And doesn’t that just give you a jolt of inspiration?

Epilogue: I did, in fact, run a little longer and a little faster than I’d originally planned. Woo!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit callmemapo.substack.com

In Part I, I told the story of how I walked into a workshop for helping women improve their performance review results, and walked out with a bee in my bonnet (I know, I know, but I’m giving more idioms a try) about how backward it is to expect women to hack flawed performance review processes instead of putting the onus on organizations to improve those processes. 

Picking up where we left off, here’s just a sample of what I discovered while digging into this performance review issue.

* This study (HBR summary here) found that women are disproportionately asked by managers, and disproportionately volunteer, to take on tasks that don’t contribute to their career advancement, even though the tasks still benefit the organization. The study explains that, since women do more of this non-promotable work, women’s overall career progress is slower compared to men’s.

* Similarly, this research found that women and minorities are more likely to be assigned work dubbed “office housework”, i.e., work that’s “important but undervalued” (undervalued because it is administrative in nature or not directly tied to revenue goals). “Office housework” also tends to be non-promotable. Again, since women and minorities do more of this “office housework”, their overall career progress is slower compared to men’s and non-minorities’.

* And this and this research found that, in workplaces that rely on collaboration to complete projects, women disproportionately carry the burden of fostering and enabling collaboration. However, this additional effort is not itself considered to be promotable work. So again, since women disproportionately carry this load, women’s overall career progress is slower compared to men’s.

Experts have proposed a number of solutions to these challenges, for example, that managers assign non-promotable work more equitably across their teams. Experts have also shared tips for how women and minorities can proactively shape their work tasks to include more promotable work and effectively say “no” to non-promotable work. And circling back to the performance review workshop from Part I, some experts have theorized that improving self-promotion skills can help women and minorities receive recognition for their contributions to help overcome these patterns of unfairness.

These solutions all make sense. And yet they seem so unsatisfying!

Although experts’ proposed solutions are practical, they seem resigned to how organizations value (or not) certain types of employee contributions. It’s disappointing that the conversation isn’t more focused on recalibrating the value system itself, instead of teaching employees how to navigate it as-is. 

Why am I so disappointed, you may ask?

After all, really smart people have figured out ways to give women and minorities more agency in the workplace.  

First, I think it’s worth stating the obvious: that all the studies I shared above present evidence of organizations disproportionately relying on women and minorities to take up a certain type of work, namely, work characterized as supportive and community-oriented. We see this directly when we look at the proportion of women and minorities in “business support” verticals like HR, admin professionals, legal (though usually at the more junior levels), etc. But the studies indicate that women and minorities are taking on supportive and community-oriented tasks across all business verticals. 

So we have a clear gender/racial/ethnic divide with respect to this type of work. In some sense, this is old hat. Even though organizations are far from resolving the divide, there is broad awareness of its existence.

What’s remarkable, though, is that the studies also indicate that this supportive and community-oriented work is less valued than other work—and no one seems to have a problem with that. The experts describe this work as “important but undervalued” or having “little visibility or impact”. They call it “non-revenue-generating” work. And a main point of all these studies is that this type of work is non-promotable—which is a formal signal from organizations that it isn’t highly valued.  

And yet, organizations are dysfunctional without this so-called non-promotable work. In a lot of ways, non-promotable work is like infrastructure (bridges, dams, roads). It is fundamental for getting things done; it is also ubiquitous, and we tend to take it for granted. But consider the absence of non-promotable work: process becomes messy and time-consuming, communication is lacking, goals are unclear, people get stressed, rework is required, efforts are siloed, people miss appointments, etc. As a result, people become less engaged at work, and this leads to a host of negative consequences for organizations, including an estimated productivity loss of $500 billion in the US alone. And as John Oliver says in Last Week Tonight regarding infrastructure, “If anything exciting happens, we’ve done it wrong”. I don’t know about you, but a $500 billion loss is more exciting than not….  

But let’s not forget the upside to this non-promotable work! Anyone who has worked with a strong project manager, or a skilled admin professional, or a colleague who is excellent at providing context knows that supportive and community-oriented work creates significant value. Among other things, it enables efficiencies, connects dots that reveal untapped synergies, accelerates outcomes, facilitates decision-making, allows “highest and best use” of team members, fosters trust among colleagues, etc. 

Is any of this revenue-generating? I’ve never personally traced the value chain, but my bet would be on, “Heck, yes!” Perhaps the fact that this work’s value isn’t quantified is why organizations undervalue it in the first place. Daniel Yankelovich, a renowned social scientist, spells out the downfalls of this mindset (dubbed the “McNamara fallacy”, after Secretary of Defense during the Vietnam War, Robert McNamara):

The first step is to measure whatever can be easily measured. This is okay as far as it goes. The second step is to disregard that which can't be measured or give it an arbitrary quantitative value. This is artificial and misleading. The third step is to presume that what can't be measured easily isn't very important. This is blindness. The fourth step is to say what can't be easily measured really doesn't exist. This is suicide.

And circling back to the performance review workshop for women from Part I:  If this supportive and community work—“we” and “us” work—is less valued than “me” and “I” work, and if women (and minorities) disproportionately carry the load on this type of work, then it’s no surprise that women and minorities have a tougher time standing out during performance reviews. 

Okay. So we have (i) a gender/race/ethnic divide and (ii) the devaluing of this supportive and community-oriented work. My final observation regards something more symbolic than anything—but symbolic in a way that is quite jarring and reveals how deeply ingrained workplace biases are. 

“Office housework.”

That’s the phrase experts use to describe this non-promotable, less valued work. There is a longstanding history of devaluing housework. And the fact that experts have landed on the term “office housework” (and anecdotally, I’ve heard colleagues and friends use this term as well) reinforces the problematic gender norms around undervalued—and unpaid—home labor.

We’ve all heard of women’s second shift at home (here’s a link to the landmark work by Arlie Russell Hochschild in 1989, and a NY Times summary).

Well, it turns out, women also have a second shift at work!

To advance at work, women not only have to do the so-called revenue-generating work (putting aside whether or not that characterization is accurate), but they are also expected to do the “office housework”, even though they only get meaningful credit in the form of promotions or higher pay for the former. And not only that, in performance reviews, women apparently need to downplay the “office housework”, including “we” and “us” work, and instead highlight me-me-me, I-I-I. Sounds a lot like a second shift to me.

Where do I think we should go from here?

Well, a massive shift in how we value certain types of labor is top of mind. Too ambitious? Perhaps, but I do think there are tangible steps organizations can take to change the game in positive ways, rather than expecting women and minorities to learn how to hack it. 

In fact, some organizations have already taken steps in this direction. For example, LinkedIn, Twitter, and Justworks announced that they’ll be providing additional monetary compensation to their employee resource group (ERG) leads. LinkedIn’s rationale for this acknowledges that “there is ‘no price on the emotional labor and investment of time’ ERGs contribute and that $10,000 is a start, in addition to a formal systematized recognition plan.”

Or consider the massive venture capital investment in HR technology (this source cites $5 billion in 2020!), much of which seeks at least in part to make workplaces more equitable. And although we have a long way to go regarding robust family care leave (the US is particularly challenged here), we’ve seen organizations increasingly invest in this area and develop policies that serve many different family models and  implicitly recognize the value of the labor involved in “housework”. 

Some additional thoughts: Organizations should invest in renewing their understanding of how skillsets map to the bottom line. This analysis should include skills with second- and third-order impacts on revenue, like facilitation, peer leadership, dot connecting, coordination, context sharing, and others. Then leaders could more easily develop formal means to recognize and reward people who exercise these skills to benefit the organization accordingly. Because make no mistake, people are incentivized to do what leaders recognize and reward via signals like promotions, raises, and bonuses. And I suspect that most organizations want to incentivize employees to flex these supportive and community-oriented skills. 

Consider an employee—let’s call them Riley—whose strength is coordinating and facilitating collaboration that yields unique opportunities for the organization. Riley is a catalyst who enables and empowers their colleagues everyday. Why would an organization want Riley to do mental and verbal gymnastics to highlight their “me” and “I” contributions in order to advance in their career? Wouldn’t it be better for both Riley and the organization to formally recognize Riley’s “we” and “us” work? The organization is enjoying the fruits of Riley’s work, after all; and Riley could continue contributing in this way while enjoying career advancement and feeling valued. It may require just a little more analysis and effort by leadership to trace Riley’s efforts to the bottom line.

One final point: If the carrot, i.e., the opportunity to do what’s right, is not enough to convince organizations to invest time and brainpower into this issue, there is always the growing stick, captured quite nicely in this recent NY Times article, Workers Are Gaining Leverage Over Employers Right Before Our Eyes.  

Whew! That was a lot.

I’d love reactions: What do you think? What do you agree or disagree with? What are some additional considerations? Your perspectives are all welcome!!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit callmemapo.substack.com

I’d like to make a bold—and possibly controversial—assertion: Training women to more strongly self-promote for performance reviews is a losing strategy.

I know, it sounds crazy. There is plenty of research demonstrating that women don’t self-promote as much as men and that this has adverse career implications for women. So shouldn’t we be doing everything we can to help women get on an even playing field? 

Please bear with me while I explain myself! 

In the lead-up to a past performance review cycle, a women’s affinity group within my company at the time held a workshop to help women write stronger self-evaluations, which were a critical part of the performance review process. The workshop presenters came well-armed with statistics showing women’s general reluctance to self-promote, explained how this results in self-evaluations that don’t lead to raises or promotions at the company, and connected this to negative impact on women’s career advancement compared to men’s. 

The presenters then shared examples of what they considered to be strong self-evaluation statements, i.e., statements that correlated with positive performance reviews, implying—and in some cases explicitly stating—that “this is how men do it.” The presenters compared the strong statements to ones they considered to be weaker, implying that those were typical of women. 

One of the key differences between the strong and weak self-evaluation statements was the degree of self-promotion: The strong statements were heavy on self-promotion and highlighted “me” and “I”; the weaker ones focused more on teamwork and coordination work and highlighted “we” and “us.”

(To clarify, there were additional differences between strong and weak self-evaluation statements. For example, strong ones included evidence of impact, preferably in the form of numerical examples, as well as expressive verbs. But the focus of the discussion was on ramping up the degree of self-promotion.)

The presenters then equipped workshop attendees with practical tips for writing stronger self-evaluations that would presumably improve our performance reviews and increase the likelihood of receiving a raise or promotion. They also led us through exercises, where we practiced writing self-evaluation statements that followed the patterns of the strong examples. 

Overall, the workshop was a well-run event, effective, and incredibly generous of the presenters, as they were volunteering their own time to run it. And how cool is it that there was a sisterhood supporting each other in this way? (Answer: very, very cool!) 

And yet, I couldn’t shake this gnawing feeling about the event. 

Why were a group of women being trained to more effectively self-promote so that—in essence—they could be more like men? Was being more like a man what it took to be evaluated fairly and be competitive with male colleagues in the next performance review? (I thought I’d mostly left that behind when I transitioned out of the Navy.) And although there is statistical evidence supporting this man/woman split on self-promotion, it’s also true that the split does not universally apply across every individual man and woman. So directing this sort of training to women seemed unnecessarily exclusive. Oh and, by the way, the statistics say nothing about non-binary genders or race or other demographics.

The aim of this workshop didn’t feel right, even though I recognized that the presenters were sharing practical tools and advice based on the way things were. They were being pragmatic and empowering us to change behaviors that were within our control. They were teaching us how to ‘play the game’—a corporate version of realpolitik.

Maybe that was just it:  The workshop had an undercurrent of resignation to this approach to performance reviews—an approach that apparently valued individual contributions over teamwork, and form over substance.  

We were being taught to ‘play the game’ by amplifying “me” and “I” to ensure managers and leaders heard each of us, instead of putting the onus on managers and leaders to see through rhetorical techniques and nevertheless make fair performance assessments. And this push toward stronger self-promotion as a leveler between men and women seemed to mirror the worst of modern day mainstream media, where pithy clickbait and shouting the loudest get more attention than balanced and nuanced perspectives.  

Not only did I disagree in principle with this approach to performance reviews and the values it reflects, but I was not ready to resign myself to it. Resignation in this case seemed too defeatist, especially because there is already awareness that performance review processes like this are flawed, perpetuate biases, and lead to negative outcomes for many employees, especially women and minorities. And separately, the whole idea of leaning into self-promotion is an energy zapper. For me, playing a game where self-promotion is the key to winning is not inspiring.

So, my bottom line takeaway:

Instead of expecting that individual employees—and women (and minorities and other disadvantaged groups) in particular—learn to better play this game, why not demand that our organization change the game itself?

In Part II, I’ll share my diagnosis of what’s fundamentally wrong with this game (and I bet it’s not what you think), along with some ideas for how organizations can evolve toward something better. 

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit callmemapo.substack.com

It was the middle of a busy work week, and I was overdue for a workout. But I was tired, not feeling my best, battling spring allergies, and doubtful that I’d get much out of any workout. 

I nevertheless donned my COVID mask and (begrudgingly) headed down to our apartment building’s gym that evening. We are very lucky to have a Peloton Tread+ in our gym (safety issues notwithstanding), so I decided to do a guided treadmill workout. 

As a total aside, I appreciate a great treadmill. I have herniated discs in my lower back, and running can be pretty hard on it. But I have yet to find a more effective cardio option for me than running: Biking and rowing are both uncomfortable and put a lot of pressure on my back, and ellipticals make me feel constrained and trapped. So I run. Effective shock absorption and good running form have become everything!

I chose a previously recorded workout led by Jess King because I love her free spirit and wanted a counterpoint to my super packed, left brain-dominant day. 

During the workout, Jess prompted viewers to do some visualizations. One of the prompts was to visualize what I was running away from (bad experiences of the week, tough moments of the day). 

The next prompt was to visualize what I was running toward. I immediately started picturing an idyllic future with a home on rocky seaside cliffs, a perfect job and home life, and not a worry in the world about money or status or anything like that. Have you ever done that? Found yourself wishing for some fantasy?

Well, a sudden and sharp objection popped into my head demanding: Why are you running to some imagined future instead of running toward your PRESENT? 

Boy, was that a heavy aha! moment for me. I often hear great advice like, live in the present and be in the moment. When I hear it, I nod my head and fervently agree. But this was the first time in my life I’d apparently internalized that advice, and I awoke to my deep cognitive dissonance around appreciating my present versus longing for some “better” abstract future.

So I started thinking about what I loved about my present and started running toward it. An amazing life partner, a very cute and bossy senior dog, a funny and resilient family, incredible friends from all walks of life, good health, and… 

And suddenly I was on a roll (and running super fast, by the way) and couldn’t stop listing off what I loved about my life today, now, in the present. It totally lit me up (and the endorphins from running certainly helped)!

My life certainly isn’t perfect—nothing ever is—but I have so much to love, and for the first time, I understood this on a visceral level that I’d not previously been able to access. Jess may not have known it, but she activated this experience of intense and transcendent awareness in me. 

And I was totally inspired. 

So I brought this epiphany and energy to my family, and I shared it with my friends—and now I bring it to you in the hopes it will inspire you to RUN TO YOUR PRESENT.  

Takeaways

* IMPACT. Don’t underestimate the powerful impact you can have on those around you, just by being yourself. (Look what Jess did for me with just a few words via a recorded workout!)

* TODAY. Love your present. And if that’s too abstract or too “big” to actualize, start by taking 15-20 seconds to note what you’re grateful for in your life today. Say it out loud or write it down to make the experience more tangible.

* ACTION. Even if you don’t think you can give 100% in a workout, just give it your best shot and do what you can. Exercise is good for your body, mind, and soul, and the endorphins help. And a “workout” doesn’t need to be a 2-hour intense iron pumping session; it can mean going for a walk or whatever is right for you. Fitting and true cliches here: Something is better than nothing; don’t let perfect be the enemy of good. 

* LEARNING. Always be learning. You may find yourself re-learning lessons you thought you’d mastered because you’ve had new experiences, developed or been exposed to new perspectives, or resolved an unconscious blocker (like cognitive dissonance). 

* OPENNESS. Be open and receptive to inspiration. You never know when it will come or where/who it will come from!

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit callmemapo.substack.com

Why is being a new manager so hard?

The answer requires more than a blog post. So I’d like to focus on one key aspect of why being a new manager is hard – which is that it’s really four Core Jobs in one.

CORE JOB #1 - Enabling and empowering your team.

This is the net new job for new managers. Some new managers may have had experience with enabling and empowering people while leading projects and other initiatives. However, being responsible for your team’s development and accountable for their performance calls for additional leadership skills you may not have practiced before, and piles on additional pressure you may not be accustomed to. 

CORE JOB #2 - Managing “up” to your manager.

New managers almost certainly have experience with this. In fact, doing this well is probably one of the reasons a new manager has been selected for the role. The novel aspect of this job as a new manager is that you must manage “up” on behalf of your team, not just yourself. This requires embracing an unfamiliar mindset that your team’s successes and failures are your successes and failures.

CORE JOB #3 - Collaborating with cross-functional colleagues.

Many new managers already have experience with cross-functional collaboration. As a manager, however, your reputation as a strong or weak cross-functional partner will trickle down to your team and impact the quality of their cross-functional relationships. This is critical because – unless your team works in a silo – their cross-functional relationships can either unlock or block your team’s success. 

CORE JOB #4 - Contributing as an individual contributor.

One of the biggest adjustments for new managers is shedding individual contributor responsibilities. After all, there are three other jobs managers must do well (see above), and the net-new job of enabling and empowering your team is particularly demanding. However, new managers should retain some individual contributor responsibilities to maintain subject matter expertise (important for professional growth), and to stay grounded in the experience of individual contributors (important for effectively enabling and empowering your team). 

So what can you take from this?

For all the new managers out there…

Hopefully, this framework validates your experience as you face the challenge of doing four Core Jobs at once! 

For those of you exploring manager roles for the first time…

Take time to reflect on whether any of these Core Jobs surprised you. Also consider how you can use this framework to prepare yourself for success.

And for those of you hiring new managers…

When hiring new managers, people often over-rely on candidates’ past success as an individual contributor. Hopefully this framework demonstrates why we should instead be evaluating candidates’ relevant experience and aptitude across all four Core Jobs.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit callmemapo.substack.com