Admiration Means You Must Be Doing Something Right

March 10, 2013 By David Griesing 1 Comment

What the Chinese are thinking about us is no laughing matter if we’re listening to experts talk about how they are holding America’s mortgage with one hand and stealing our most valuable secrets with the other. But our worries could become more realistic if we also considered just how much the Chinese admire us and the way of life they think we have going on here.

There is always something valuable to be learned when others are both coveting and admiring what you have. As La Rochefoucand famously said: “Sometimes we think we dislike flattery, but it is only the way it is done that we dislike.” Thinking about what we like and don’t like about how many of the Chinese people view America today has some interesting things to teach us about ourselves.

I had the chance to visit China a couple of years back.

I’m glad I went when I did and probably wouldn’t recognize much of the place today. It was a few months before the Beijing Olympics, and the country was moving so fast you could almost feel the wind. But what I remember most was how excited regular folks—particularly young people—were that we had come all that way to see them.

They tried out their English on us and surrounded us for pictures. We were their chance to sample America, in the same way that they were already sampling KFC and Polo Ralph Lauren. At the time, analogizing their admiration to eating or wearing did not seem entirely misplaced.

This inkling got some support when I came upon a piece about “architectural mimicry” in China. While the copycat buildings that are springing up there aren’t always American buildings, easily the most duplicated structure in China today is the White House.

The building serves as the model for everything from seafood restaurants to single-family homes to government offices in Guangzhou, Wuxi, Shanghai, Wenling and Nanjing.

There are duplicate Chrysler Buildings and other Manhattan skyscrapers too.

That “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery” is certainly part of it. But it’s more than this, and has many antecedents in this ancient civilization. Emperors regularly built parks with an Epcot Center of facsimile structures from remote lands. Both then & now, it is a pretty straightforward effort to enhance their legitimacy by demonstrating China’s de facto appropriation of the known universe.

Today, the Chinese are trying to swallow other aspects of the American way of life as well.

Much of the dynamism you can feel in China today results from a billion people embracing capitalism all at once. It was a forest of timeless bamboo scaffolding clinging to a mountain range of 21^st century construction projects that really brought this home to me when I walked around Beijing. Since almost everybody in China wants to become the next Bill Gates or Warren Buffett, it is hardly surprising that the American rags to riches fantasy has also been made available for mass consumption.

It’s been turned into the equivalent of a fortune cookie.

The Chinese love short motivational phrases even more than Americans do, if that’s possible. They have been a vehicle for transmitting community values from Confucius to Mao, and they are still in active use today. Only now it’s so-called American values that are being conveyed, and what’s being shared has a lot more to do with individual fortune than collective harmony.

Evidence of this comes from the apparently spontaneous rise of 20 or so “allocutions” or commandments that many people in China today believe are written on the walls of Harvard’s library. These commandments speak to the commitment, diligence and self-denial that are supposedly bolstering their counterparts’ remarkable performance here in the States.

One says, “Happiness will not be ranked, but success will—at the top,” while another envisions a slightly different, though related reward, “If you study one more hour, you will have a better husband.” Struggling through exhaustion to get where you’re going is key in this messaging: “Nodding at the moment, you will dream. While studying at the moment you will come true,” and similarly, “Most great achievements happen while others are dozing.” Perhaps most succinct of all is this commandment: “Please enjoy the unavoidable suffering.”

Wherever it comes from, this distilled wisdom about American motivation clearly haunts the Chinese imagination. In an article about the phenomenon by Robert Darnton, Harvard’s university librarian, we learn that:

the allocutions took root in China’s educational system and were widely used in primary schools, in English courses, on exams, and even in interviews for admission to Beijing University. They have appeared on bulletin boards, in newspapers, on telecasts, on a website of China’s Ministry of Commerce and on Weibo, the Chinese version of Twitter. Above all, they have reached millions through the Internet, thanks to endless transmission by blogs, including one that registered 67 million hits.

As a result, it should come as no surprise that the most numerous queries on Harvard’s “Ask the Librarian” web page are about these allocutions, with many of the questions originating in China. When informed that no such commandments appear on the walls in any of Harvard’s 73 libraries, Mr. Darnton records the following responses: “Well my teacher has been using this fooling me,” and “Are you kidding? We grown up with these mottos.” Or even more interesting: “Thank you for liberating us” and “When I know the truth I can’t stop crying.”

Of course, there are both comforting and disquieting things about tokens of flattery like this, as well as the fact that Chinese people will probably be eating fried chicken in a mock-up of the White House later today.

For example, we may like it that the Chinese think we’re this successful, but disquieted by their distortion of us into sleep-deprived automatons. It’s like Eleanor Roosevelt’s ambivalence about one of her tributes: “I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in a bed, but fine up against a wall.”

The good news about admiration is the often accurate perception that there is something about us worth admiring.

Even when it is somewhat alarmingly expressed, flattery indicates that somebody out there still thinks you’re ahead in the big game.

But there can be another message too.

Whenever there’s a gapping hole between what’s being hungered for and what is actually true, it may be time to torque up that big game of yours before it’s too late.

(On this last day of the Chinese New Year, great prosperity to all!)

How to Bring Your Reach Into Your Resume

March 3, 2013 By David Griesing Leave a Comment

How you want the world to see you no longer fits on your resume or comes from a few endorsements.

The words you use to describe yourself on a piece of paper are still useful—particularly when you give those words three dimensionality during face-to-face time. And yes, personal references still matter, because it says there are people out there who believe in you enough to step to the fore and say nice things. But more and more, who you are is revealed by the web of your connections: by what you say, by who responds and shares your conversation, and by how you pick up that thread the next time around.

The boundaries around you have changed. When it comes to introducing yourself effectively, your reach is also who you are.

Part of it is your ability to engage and influence others. But while your Klout or Kred scores can speak to your success as a marketer or thought leader, that is really all they say.

What is most significant about the web of exchange around you isn’t your impact on others, but what all of these conversations reveal about you. Your tone and content speak volumes about who you are to everyone who’s paying attention.

Not so long ago, literal word of mouth accounted almost entirely for your reputation. It was mostly impressions and feelings from one-on-one conversations that were leveraged into a frame of positive judgments around you–as long as the right people started blowing your horn. It was also a tightly managed process, because the older guy usually trumpeted the younger guy who was just like him. Women, ethnic and racial minorities all got their turns feeling the exclusionary aspects of this. Individuals who never fit the mold did too.

If the past seemed clubby, the present is much less so. Making the name that you want for yourself has a far more open and public dimension today. How public?

Well, a network provider just announced that it is accepting applications for a six-figure position via Twitter. The ad doesn’t call on you to make a 140-character argument for why you should be hired over somebody else. And it certainly doesn’t involve attaching your resume to your tweet, because nobody at the other end is interested. As the company’s chief marketing officer told USA Today:

The Web is your résumé. Social networks are your mass references.

While this well-paying job does involve managing the company’s network communications, there is something far more consequential going on here.

Assessing who you are and what you’ll bring to a job by “researching you on-line” is no longer about finding that errant picture of you after too much beer on Facebook. (Those pictures are becoming a thing of the past anyway, as people use Snapchat to forward images that automatically disappear shortly after they’re sent.) No, this is more about the conclusions that can be drawn from the mosaic of information that you’re generating and that swirls around you in the ether like so many “mass references.”

What will the onlookers discover about you when they start looking? They’ll see conversations you’ve had with friends and comments you’ve left for strangers. They’ll note how you said it in a blog or restaurant review. They’ll get a sense of your sarcasm, your curiosity or your politics. Maybe they’ll learn about new talents or unexpected commitments. Most of all, they’ll find what you’ve left for them to find. Check out this recent infographic which lays out several of the ways you can use your on-line platform to tell the world what you want it to know about you.

The first impressions that we make today come from several directions at once. Your digital footprints tell the world a lot about where you’re been, where you’re going, and who you are. It’s useful to think about that whenever you put on your shoes.

Your Past’s Role in Future Work

February 21, 2013 By David Griesing 1 Comment

I read a remarkable story today.

Pirated copies of the movie Argo are being viewed on TVs, laptops and at internet cafes across Iran, riveting almost everyone’s attention there on a shared history that has been difficult to recall with any clarity given the hardship of those intervening years.

What’s remarkable is that millions of Iranians seem to be using a Hollywood movie to come to terms with their past so they can stake a better claim to their future.

Presenting truths that can set you free always has its consequences. It will certainly provide a more reverential cast to Argo’s Oscar buzz this weekend. It may also prove to be far more worrisome to Iran’s current leadership than all the Israeli bombers, economic sanctions, and stuxnet computer viruses that can be hurled at them. However, Argo’s apparent truth serum in not just for countries that are intent on managing the hearts & minds of their citizens.

A deep dive into personal history can also bring with it the clarity of truth-telling when it helps us recall valuable information about ourselves that we can build upon today to make a better tomorrow. Argo’s impact on hearts & minds in Iran today provides a sense of the “kinds of truths” that are worth rediscovering, both collectively and personally.

Argo is a true story about a fake movie whose filming enabled several diplomats to escape from Tehran during the hostage crisis that engulfed the American Embassy in 1979. The film also captures some of the thuggish violence that characterized the early days of Iran’s revolution.

As depicted in Argo, today’s Iran didn’t arise the way state propaganda says it did. The land of ayatollahs and nuclear threats results, at least in part, from the fact that the thugs have been an essential ingredient in Iran’s revolution all along. The emergence of a new brand of religiously sanctioned violence is what Iranians are learning about in their past. Only it can explain the continued violence and hardship they are experiencing in their lives today—and what’s to be done about it.

The irony is that thuggish violence wasn’t the point of Argo. It merely provided a backdrop for the comically successful rescue of several endangered foreigners. On the other hand, perhaps it was the incidental portrayal of violence and zealotry—its matter-of-factness in a story that was really about something else—that has enabled Argo to strike a collective nerve among Iranians today. This is how.

Even more elemental than their current suffering is the fact that the Iranian people are, at their core, hospitable to strangers. From this perspective, the act of turning diplomatic guests into terrified hostages is now being recognized by many Iranians as the pivotal incident when things took a terrible turn for the worse in their country. A woman named Shohreh explains it this way:

Violence entered our [recent] politics with the takeover of the American Embassy. Our leaders figured they could interact with the world with aggression and eventually this trickled down to the way they deal with their own people.

The people of Iran will eventually build a future for themselves that is better than anything their leaders are providing today. Their future will be shaped by several factors, but perhaps none will be as important as reconnecting with their own basic hospitality.

In much the same way, we are hardwired to traits like “hospitality” or “curiosity” in our own personal histories. (For me, the sense of “gratitude” was particularly important.) Whenever we reach a fork in the road and need to make consequential life and work choices, reconnecting to our most basic impulses exerts a powerful influence. Of course, this is even more so when our experience over the intervening years has obscured what we were “most like” when we started out.

In his Shift: How to Reinvent Your Business, Your Career, and Your Personal Brand, branding master Peter Arnell uses a vivid image to describe how the past can propel the future vision we have for ourselves when we decide to make a change.

[C]reate a story line about yourself that you want to perpetuate. . . Wire it into your personal DNA. It should carry the energy and excitement of the ongoing change you want to make in your life. Like DNA, it needs to be coded in a way that is simple and strong and won’t unravel at the first hit of challenge or trouble.

You succeed by hardwiring your game plan for the future into basic information about you that’s been there all along. When done right, it has the simplicity and the strength of DNA.

As we tune into the Oscars this weekend and see the cheering section for Argo, it is worth stepping back to consider some of the remarkable ways that the past can influence the future when we make the effort to tell our best stories.

The Regret-Free Encore Career

February 14, 2013 By David Griesing 1 Comment

Sometimes regret is what you feel when it’s too late to do much about it—your deathbed, most commonly. But we also feel regret when there’s plenty of time left. All that stands in the way is our reluctance to recover the opportunities that are still out there, waiting for us.

The voice of regret over the road not taken most often has the whine of excuse about it. I couldn’t afford to take the chance. I’m over-extended. I’m too tired. I need to be better prepared. I can’t do this alone. I have too many obligations. My family won’t be on-board. What will other people think?

What if I fail?

By the time the excuses begin, the flirting with the new and unfamiliar has usually passed. You’ve pulled yourself back into the comfortable territory where you started. Your heart rate is back to normal, what you feared is now safely behind you. The only residue that remains is regret around what might have been. What if I had pushed a little farther, taken the chance, grabbed the brass ring when it appeared, trusted my instincts, trusted myself?

I spoke to an accomplished group of senior managers this week. In their fifties and sixties mostly, all were in or between Big Jobs. Some of them were also caught between seeing themselves doing those Big Jobs and, well, just sitting at home not doing them.

These are pretty stark alternatives. The good news is that there’s a way to get to the productive work all of us still need to do, and it doesn’t involve trapping yourself between this kind of all or nothing.

Limiting your future to a corner office is unrealistic if there simply aren’t enough corner offices to either barricade yourself in or catapult yourself back into. Your chances may simply be better elsewhere.

Moreover, if you’re not in that corner office today, maybe there’s a good reason that you’re not, a reason that involves your temperament, your skills, or your inability to read the handwriting on the wall. So why not step back and make a plan for your future work now that squarely confronts your deficits, acknowledges the value of your native talents, and aligns your next job with the best vision that you have of yourself?

Honestly confronting your deficits could mean honing existing skills or mastering new ones. But as often as not it’s learning to be more adaptable to changing circumstances. That is, a lot more resilient than you are today.

If you’re too rigid, you may simply need to become more adaptable. Stated differently, if your Boomer Balloon is filled with too much stale air, it may be time to let some of the stale air out and some fresh air in.

The best way to do so is by throwing yourself into circumstances where you’re not comfortable, where the particular improvements you need to find can only come—one dogged attempt at a time—with failure as your teacher. That’s the path to resilience. The question is really a pretty simple one: Are you tough enough to know when you need to toughen up?

On the other hand, time spent on deficit reduction should never mask what fueled your accomplishment in the first place. Identify the skills that have always given you the most pride when you’ve exercised them, and build your future on the highly transferable talents that have always set you apart. It’s a waste of time being bitter that strangers in the job market aren’t valuing these talents enough, but you’d be a fool to undervalue them yourself.

Finally, while you’re busy being honest with yourself, also consider investing some of the optimism you’ve been mustering as the candidate for the next Big Job around those things you always wished you had done, but were never brave enough or wise enough to have done before.

The land of your regrets is where you think about the grreat job that got away, the kind of work that quickens your heart beat and makes your palms sweat when you think about it, like helping to solve a real world problem, or meeting real needs for different products or better services than anyone else is providing.

There are challenges out there with your name on them. With focus and tenacity, you can figure out a way to not only make a living by confronting them, but also to live more fully and to find a better balance of effort and fulfillment than you have ever enjoyed before.

It’s the time in our lives when age, experience and self-confidence can also be good teachers, when we let them.

The irony, of course, is that once you build yourself a regret-free encore career, you’ll find yourself wondering why you ever spent your time putting all your eggs in the basket of that next Big Job.

A Rescue Aid Society

February 9, 2013 By David Griesing 3 Comments

Aaron Schwartz committed suicide on January 11. He was 26 years old and had battled severe depression. He was also one of those breathtaking geniuses whose mind roamed across worlds, from technology to history, ethics and the frontlines of advocacy. One admirer likened him to a pure blast of light, because he was that clear and that riveting—a supernova. But we let him slip through our fingers, and I’m wondering why this has to be.

What he had already done in his short life is the start of the argument, because we always want to know whether remedial action is justified by the facts. Here are Aaron Schwartz’ facts.

At 15, he joined the development group that invented the RSS feed. No need for an intervening action like email, pressing a share button, or doing anything beyond plugging into it: an RSS feed automatically connects you to streams of updated information. It may be the most efficient vehicle for the mass transmission of new information that has ever been conceived.

At 19, he provided the web framework for Reddit, an enormously vibrant social bulletin board where the network of subscribers determines the relevance, and therefore the visibility of articles on the site’s front and subsidiary pages. Not entirely without justification, Reddit describes itself as “the front page of the internet.”

For Aaron, it wasn’t just technology, because he was fascinated by almost everything. He is rumored to have quoted (from memory) key lines in the Pentagon Papers when, as a college freshman, he challenged his Stanford professor’s rationale for the Vietnam War. In 2006, 7 and 8 he blogged about the 100 of so books he read every year–about con men, causality, comic books, political fundraising, poetry–urging his followers to read some but not others, or maybe just a brilliant opening chapter. He was hungry for knowledge and the useful things you can do with it.

Aaron also loved people, which is how he got into trouble after all. It wasn’t just about his love affair with ideas. He really wanted the rest of us to have that love affair too, as unfettered and freewheeling as possible.

In 2010, he downloaded millions of academic articles from a restricted online database, making them publically available for the first time. While the database provided the articles free of charge to MIT students and researchers, Aaron wanted everyone to have access. His actions casued the database to crash and violated the terms of service for his use of it.

Federal prosecutors intervened, charging him under a technology statute with a laundry list of felonies, including theft, damage to computer networks, and wire fraud. The trial in his case was scheduled to begin next month. If found guilty on all counts, he faced a prison term of more than 30 years for crimes that had no real victims.

Aaron told prosecutors (and indeed everyone listening) that he was terrified of going to prison. Connected as he was to all those information streams, he believed that being cut off would amount to a kind of death sentence. Then there was his depression, and its physical consequences. But the prosecutors refused any deal that did not include at least some imprisonment at a maximum security prison—a particularly cruel twist, since they are the only prison facilities that provide the types of medical treatment he would have needed while incarcerated.

Not surprisingly, most of the press coverage around Aaron’s death related to the fairness of his prosecution. But its underlying facts also tell us, loudly and clearly, about his belief in humanity, and another story about him easily tells us as much.

Aaron had bad eyesight. But in a funny paradox of genius, he thought the world was really as unfocused as it appeared until someone suggested he try contact lenses. It’s what happened next that’s most revealing. (Rick Perlstein also quotes this posting from Aaron’s blog in his eloquent farewell.)

I had no idea the world really looked like this, with such infinite clarity. . . Everyone kept saying ‘oh, do you see the leaves now?’ but the first thing I saw was not the leaves but the people. People, individuated, each with brilliant faces and expressions . . . the sun streaming down upon them. I couldn’t help but smile. It’s much harder being a misanthrope when you can see people’s faces.

This startling, contentious and often depressed soul could, at last, “see” who he was doing it all for.

There was a terrible and fragile beauty to Aaron Schwartz, but our world could neither answer his cries for help nor, in the end, protect him. Unfortunately, the scenario is pretty much the same for others like him, when they leave the spaces they once spilled out of and we confront the sudden voids they left behind.

We know that none of them went quietly. Not Aaron, or writer David Foster Wallace (2008), or CalTech physicist Andrew Lange (2010). We could hear their demons long before they succumbed to them.

It’s during this noticing that we, as a society, should find a way to interrupt what is almost sure to happen. The loss of what these individuals could have thought, created and changed is simply too great to do otherwise.

There were many people who knew Aaron Schwartz, cared about him, championed his causes, and wrote essays when he was no longer among them. From all accounts, he had a concerned and connected family. But none prevented what happened, and perhaps none of them could. However, this is not a business for insiders. The best interventions usually come from the outside.

We protect spectacular feats of nature in our national parks, our material history in museums, and the culture’s most beautiful ideas in our libraries. By contrast, the wellsprings of creativity that individuals like Aaron represent—and that nourish us all— pretty much have to fend for themselves when it comes to their survival. Their existing safety nets are almost never enough. So their rescuers woud come without the agendas of friends, rivals or loved ones, whatever they might be. They would come only to improve the grip on life itself.

My proposal doesn’t involve powers of attorney, only an offer to “be there” as long as required and whenever needed. More RSS feed than hotline, the check-ins and updates would ideally flow in both directions. Maybe the organization could help you make a ruckus when you’re being bullied (as Aaron surely was), or have someone with you everyday when you take your meds. We’d pay for it the way we pay for other protecting institutions. The rescuers would have great commitment and expertise.

I don’t know how we’d choose the Aarons who would benefit, (How smart? How productive?), or how to fend off the charges of elitism. Some of the Aarons, maybe most of them, would refuse to cooperate, at least initially. When would the attempted rescues stop? What about the insurance?

I don’t know a hundred things about how this would work. What I do know is that the cost to us is too high to tolerate this kind of repeated sacrifice. What I know is that more is required—however precious to us their final bursts of light.

See how these names are feted by the waving grass,

And by the streamers of white cloud,

And whispers of wind in the listening sky;

The names of those who in their lives fought for life,

Who wore at their hearts the fire’s center.

Born of the sun, they traveled a short while

towards the sun,

And left the vivid air signed with their honor.

(Stephen Spender)