Coach Behavior, Not Error

Indulge me if you will in two points.

People make mistakes — they aren’t their mistakes.

If you notice a pattern of undesirable behavior, determine if there is a contributing system or process component, and if so, stop trying to fix people.

The number one problem in every corner of human civilization, and likewise the cause of most broader, societal issues is a failure of basic empathy. A common feature of this issue is that people of all stripes, often unconsciously, view others based on the benefit received in the relationship. This is made doubly problematic in that there are often situations where benefit can’t be easily quantified, or there is no common basis for evaluation.

This problem becomes catastrophic when we consider the fragility of human life. That is to say, we are all one diagnosis, one traffic signal unobserved, or, on a lighter note, one banana peel away from a pratfall.

But as a result of diminished empathy, we have a problematic tendency to treat human weakness, or error, as character. And some of us pass value judgments on people for especially the kinds of errors to which we, in our insecurity, are most sensitive.

I’m never going to be able to solve the empathy issue, but maybe I can bridge proverbial gap for just a few people.

“Charles made a mistake. Once”

I had to get passport quick.

The entire staff of a magazine was going to be at a convention in Manchester. As the chief competitor of the publisher, our company was building bridges and, in the absence of our own periodical, we wanted to advertise in theirs. At the time, our IP was more hip, but we knew we could convert some of their readers if we could get in front of them. So I pressed our CEO of send someone to England, and with the rock stars of our company occupied elsewhere, I was drafted.

Needing a passport, a travel agency fast tracked and sent me to the appropriate government office. There, a man with the same vibe as Milton in Office Space, seated opposite me at a sturdy wooden desk, obsessively ran his fingers over each line of my paperwork at least a dozen times.

On my return to the agent, the corners of the blonde’s lips curled into a wicked grin, and the immaculately coiffed woman spoke quietly and authoritatively.

“Oh, I see you met Charles.”

Charles, not his real name, had moved forward paperwork for a person whom he should not have (further details not provided) and he’d suffered a mental breakdown. Upon returning to work, he assumed the neurotic aspect I’d witnessed.

I flew into Gatwick, paused to see the bust of Shaftesbury at Westminster Abbey, had a successful meeting with the competitor, and told my life’s only perfectly executed joke while indulging in the best Indian cuisine in the North.

Likely, only a handful of people reading this will commit an innocent blunder as apparently big as the one Charles did. Also, it seems improbable, even in pre-9/11 America, that Charles would be wholly accountable for such a mistake.

Nevertheless, poor management can present one such issue in such a way that it shatters a human being. Or string together seemingly endless complaints on a team, oblivious to potential process issues, that wither morale.

Systems and processes must be intentionally designed to create good work for humans. Mistakes are accidents, not character. And when an error is identified, a rush to blame people is a clear sign of a lack of the empathy necessary to present oneself professionally.

As I often say, I write first and foremost for myself.

Even when we find ourselves foiled in putting good ideas into practice, they always benefit us.

Happy Friday!