Driving Lessons
August 19, 2014
Many millions of us this summer took to the expressways of North America, and most of us reached our destinations safely. I find myself amazed at how few the accidents are when highways are crowded with hunks of metal traveling at 60, 70 and even 80 miles per hour.
There are three actions on a fast-moving expressway that jeopardize the health of travelers that are like three actions that jeopardize the health of organizations.
- First, if any number of drivers defies heavy traffic or wet pavement, then the well-being of all the others is at risk.
- Second, if just a single car ahead of a crowd of others slams on the brakes, then a chain reaction collision is likely to follow.
- Third, if a driver fails to look around and indicate the intention to change lanes, then those around that car must take evasive actions to escape trouble.
Likewise, organization leaders who move forward too fast without regard to their environment, leaders who suddenly slow down or stop their forward motion, and leaders who fail to consult with those around them and clearly signal their intentions to make a change, put their enterprise at risk.
Lessons for the office, learned on the road.
Ali
July 8, 2016
My wife has never held famous athletes and coaches in very high regard. Much of this has to do with her disdain for misplaced priorities – so much attention and extravagant spending devoted to entertainment and sports when so much of the world’s population is without most basic essentials of life.
Because of my work, my wife occasionally has been in the company of some of the biggest names in American sports; but only one clenched her in rapt attention. It was Muhammad Ali.
We were attending a banquet at which Ali was honored. We sat at adjacent tables, with the back of my wife’s chair almost touching the back of the chair to which Ali was being ushered, slowly because of his disease.
We all stood as Ali entered. My wife’s eyes were on Ali; my eyes were on my wife, for I had never seen her give respect to a sports personality in this manner.
After the banquet, and at times since then, and certainly again after his death June 3, my wife and I have talked about what it is in Ali that she hasn’t seen in other prominent sports figures.
We noted that he brought elegance to a brutal sport, and charm to boastfulness. We cited the twinkle in his eye that outlasted his diseased body.
We recalled the tolerance and dignity he brought to his faith, and how he demonstrated his faith commitment at the most inconvenient time in his career.
We recalled his poetry when he was young and talked too much, and his use of magic to communicate after disease stole his words, as he did that night we were with him.
Years after that banquet, when Ali lit the Olympic flame at the 1996 Olympics, my wife cried. She had tears in her eyes again when that moment was replayed on the day after Ali’s death.
Ali ascended to worldwide fame in a different era – when professional media tended to be enablers more than investigative journalists, and before social media pushed every personal weakness around the planet overnight. It’s possible Ali would not have been as loved if he had emerged in public life today. It’s also possible he would have been even more beloved.