The power, and danger, of being liked

There’s a scene in Rush in which the F1 drivers are arguing whether or not they should race the Japan Grand Prix. The weather is questionable…but it’s the last race of the season and the points for the championship are very close. Niki Lauda (played brilliantly by Daniel Bruhl) calls an all-driver meeting to discuss the cancellation of the race. His justifications are reasonable and logical – it’s not worth the danger to continue in the race. James Hunt (played equally brilliantly by Chris Hemsworth) steps in and sways the crowd, arguing that Niki only wants to cancel the race because it will clinch the championship for him. He uses emotion and charisma against logic and fact. The vote is taken – the race is on.

As Hunt walks out of the room, he leans over to Lauda and says: “You know, Niki, every once and a while, it does help if people like you.”

James Hunt is right – it does help if people like you. You’re more likely to get hired if you’re likeable. You make friends more easily. Likeable sales people tend to have higher close rates. Hell, some people argue that Hillary would have won, if only she were more likeable. (And we can unpack THAT little statement another time.) In general, likeable people seem to go through life with a little extra verve and a little less friction.

Being likeable means being relatable to people. If someone feels like they can go and have a beer with their leader or coworker, it humanizes the person, highlighting commonality and empathy. It’s an important trait to cultivate if you’re trying to influence and lead. The grumpy, no nonsense boss of the past only gets so far. Same with the person who is always right and lets you know it. Look around your organization at who gets promoted – is it the charismatic leader that motivates people, or the sharply intelligent person who rubs folks the wrong way now and then in pursuit of truth?

If the above paragraph made you think, “Wait…there are a lot of charismatic douchebags who got promoted at my company and they can’t do shit…” then congratulations! You’ve found the danger of being liked. Too often, being liked is valued over being smart or thoughtful. Being liked can be addictive. People crave it and will sacrifice anything – logic, values, integrity, partnerships – as long as they keep that likeability. The need to be liked can lead to awful business decisions and really, really crappy leadership. Managers who want to be liked have a really hard time telling their employees that they aren’t doing a good job…because what if the employees don’t like that manager anymore???

I’ve seen too many teams struggle with artificial harmony because they think debate means someone doesn’t like them, and the thought of not being liked is TERRIFYING. Fear of not being liked too often keeps mouths shut or breeds defensiveness during serious conversations. It causes people to use gossip as currency and undermines relationships. Chasing likeability will hurt you in the long run – especially if it’s obvious that you’re trying too hard (see aforementioned charismatic douchebags).

So what to do? Be the jerk who is sure you’re always right? Be the charmer everyone loves even though deep down, you aren’t always making the best choice?

I think the answer is somewhere in the middle. If people “like” you, it usually means that they trust you on some level. Personally, I’d rather be trusted than liked. I’d rather people think I have character and competence over popularity. In truth, I suspect I’m more like Niki Lauda than James Hunt. But I recognize the power of likeability and want to spend its value wisely.

You get some grace when making mistakes because people trust you’ll do right by them. If you’re always going by “gut instinct” and never consider logic and facts in your decision-making, you’re apt to lose that grace fairly quickly. On the flip side, people who rely entirely on logic and facts are typically seen as cold or non-empathetic. Despite the fact they’re often right, people don’t trust it because they aren’t seeing the human side of the decision-making. Tempering logic with likeability and balancing charisma with critical thinking can go a long way.

Next time someone gives you feedback that you need to be more “likeable,” consider what that means. Do you need to be more open to feedback? Do you need to be more approachable? Do you need to build more relationships? These are all good things to work on. But if they use “likeable” to mean you need to be more outgoing and smile more, feel free to keep on keeping on.

After all, James Hunt only won one F1 championship. Niki Lauda won three.

[Author’s note: Ironically, even Lauda liked Hunt. Despite the way their rivalry was presented in the film, Hunt and Lauda were good friends. Lauda said Hunt was one of the very few he liked, a smaller number of people he respected and the only person he had envied.] 

[Author’s note, Part 2: I really like that movie.]

It’s been a tough week…

Lots happened this week.

Many people are reeling.

Here’s a picture of a kitten in a car.

Take care of yourselves, everyone.

Image source: https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fift.tt%2F2K9x30g&t=MGU5YzhlYTk0ZGU3OTQ4Zjc4NzdlMWZhYTc4NjYwZDI5MDEwZjZkMix2MVJveUtOcw%3D%3D&b=t%3AQKKfTOI5PrkrZQJgkSxZJw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fgoodstuffhappenedtoday.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F175179773514%2Fawwww-cute-cats-first-ride-source

The “problem” is not the problem

I apologize to those of you out there looking for a return to the leadership content I often post here. This post is fairly HR-centric…although there are definitely leadership underpinnings, because doesn’t everything have leadership underpinnings? That’s just a fancy way of saying I want to share some thoughts that may or may not pertain to you. Also, the title comes from a quote from Captain Jack Sparrow in the Pirates of the Caribbean: “The problem isn’t the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem.”

So here we go.

The online HR community has been growing, which is a good thing. In the early days, there was a handful of HR pros out on social media, blogging, tweeting, doing their thing. That number has grown exponentially, resulting in a wider network for people to connect with others who are doing the same work and facing the same problems. There are more bloggers, more tweeters, more voices out in the universe sharing their thoughts. Not everyone agrees with everyone else, and I think that’s a good thing. Healthy conflict drives innovation. Let’s do it.

Then there was a hashtag.

When the #HRTribe hashtag first appeared, some people loved it, some people were indifferent, and some people were really bothered by it. In the early days, though, it wasn’t really talked about openly. It was sort of a “meh, whatever” situation. Hashtags come and go, no skin off anyone’s nose.

A little time goes by and some folks begin to voice their discomfort with the term. The reasons are varied – the idea of the need for any label at all is a bit off-putting; there’s an “us vs them” exclusionary mentality growing; the word “tribe” itself holds a specific meaning and is being misused in this context. Like I said…a lot of variety in those reasons.

For the record, I’m not a huge fan of the term. I’m hovering somewhere between uncomfortable with the word “tribe” and “why do you need a label” in my reaction to it. I’m not militant about it. I just don’t use the hashtag. Early on in the growth of it, I suggested that if people really wanted to make it “inclusive,” maybe they should stop tagging specific folks on Twitter because it was sending a different message than was intended. That seemed to be good. I moved on, once gain – not using the hashtag, but not getting all up in arms about it, either.

But then hrmemes (a satirical instagram/twitter account, by the way – sort of like The Onion) posted a fairly funny image about the #HRTribe stuff:

(Seriously – this is funny.)

The resulting discussion on Facebook was…enlightening. Suddenly, people who had stayed quiet about the issue started speaking out, and frankly, I was surprised at the number of folks who shared they had felt excluded because of the hashtag. That they felt like there was a wall put up between them and those who would use it. And that they were somewhat afraid to speak out because they didn’t want to “stir the pot.”

Huh.

Look, I’m okay with people wanting to feel like they are part of a community. If a hashtag helps you feel connected, great. Godspeed. #blessed. Whatever.

But there are things I’ve seen and heard that bother me. And it’s primarily around how those who are pro-hashtag are responding to those who have said they don’t like it.

This is what I said on the Facebook discussion, and I stand by it:

Here’s an observation from seeing the discussion on HR Tribe usage across all social media platforms. I keep seeing those who like the term dismiss the experiences or views of those who dislike the term. When specific examples of exclusion are given, they tend to be dismissed because the intent isn’t exclusionary. 

I get that.

And yet, here we are, a bunch of HR professionals who are supposed to listen to people’s stories and meet them where they are in their experiences…telling them they’re wrong. 

I’m bothered by that.

Regardless of how you feel about the use of the term, it’s the reaction of those around it that is starting to rub me wrong. Replace “I felt excluded” with “I felt harassed” and suddenly it takes on a different flavor, doesn’t it? 

No…HR Tribe is NOT an earth-shattering thing that we should lose our collective shit over. But maybe the way we’re talking about it should be.

Notice the focus – it’s not on the hashtag. It’s on the way we are talking about the hashtag.

I am disappointed that there are HR professionals dismissing the concerns of their peers in a manner that is disrespectful. I am bothered that some are HR professionals trying to convince someone who has shared their discomfort that it’s the other person’s fault that they misread the intention and that if they just tried it they would like it. I am seriously rolling my eyes when I see HR professionals reacting passive aggressively or rudely when someone has shared that they feel excluded because of the term.

How people are talking about this reflects how they would handle any controversial topic in the workplace. We are supposed to be a group of people that employees can go to and share their concerns. If someone came to you and said, “Ted from Accounting is making me feel uncomfortable,” should the response be, “Oh, Ted doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just a friendly guy. You just misunderstood what he was doing”? I would hope not. And PLEASE don’t come at me and argue that a meme isn’t the same as harassment – yeah, I know. But it’s not a giant leap in logic, either.

Frankly, I’m shocked at the amount of passion and emotion around this thing. Some people have really doubled-down on their viewpoint. It’s a freaking hashtag. Yet it apparently has triggered some discussions that need to happen.

To be clear, there have been a number of people who love the hashtag who have said, “I get what you’re saying. Thanks for sharing. I’m still going to use it, but I will be more aware of how it makes people feel.” I love that. There are people listening, reflecting, and then making a conscious choice for a specific reason. There are also a number of people who have reached out and said, “I am glad someone said it. The tribe thing has bothered me for a long time but I didn’t want to say anything.” I love that, too. It means people want to have the conversation.

If we are going to be a profession that claims we can be a safe space for employees to bring forward their #metoo moments, or anything else that breaks the law, then we need to prove it. As Dominique Rodgers said during a Twitter conversation: If a group of kind, educated professionals can’t have this slightly awkward conversation, our nation has no hope for the much bigger awkward conversations that need to happen. Please don’t retreat. We value all perspectives. Promise.