For several years, I worked for a manager I’ll call “Gus.” On the surface, Gus was the quintessential nice guy. He seemed to genuinely care about his subordinates. In cases of illness or deaths in the family, Gus was always the first to call. He frequently brought in goodies to share with the office, and he cooked a mean pot of spaghetti.
Gus also had a dark side. He could catalogue the bad habits and eccentricities of each of his three dozen subordinates with unerring accuracy. Gus managed our whole department, which included my team and two others. Every day brought a litany of negatives for him to focus on: bad directives from our headquarters, lack of respect from his superiors, lack of motivation among our rank-and-file employees. The glass was always half-empty and its contents were flat and stale.
Gus wasn’t content just to carp about his employees or supervisors. He was an equal-opportunity critic – Gus was particularly fond of criticizing his own shortcomings. Sadly, he seemed to love to declare to the world just how inept he was. Almost every day, he would denigrate himself in front of anybody who would listen. He couched these conversations as attempts to be honest and self-aware. He seemed to honestly feel insufficient to meet any obstacle. Most days he seemed almost physically incapable of making a decision. He began to take every issue, even minor ones, upstairs to the executive manager. Eventually, Gus totally lost the respect of everybody around him. He continued to do his job, but with a noticeable lack of prestige and diminished effectiveness.
Gus’ insecurities, which he voiced at every turn, magnified and multiplied until he was a walking ball of psychic pain. The maddening part for everyone else? He never used his alleged self-awareness to make any changes.
Peter Drucker once said: “A man should never be appointed into a managerial position if his vision focuses on people’s weaknesses rather than on their strengths.”
I think Mr. Drucker nailed Gus’ problem.
Gus’ biggest mistake? He picked on himself until he lost all sense of value and self-worth. He didn’t implement changes to correct his own flaws, even though he clearly recognized them. Instead, his personal introspection became a swirling spiral of negativity that swallowed up his career.
What I’ve learned from Gus:
- Focusing exclusively on anybody’s weaknesses, your own included, is a recipe for failure.
- Constantly looking for and pointing out flaws generates a vortex of criticism and pessimism.
- Criticizing yourself too much is dangerous. You can make your own situation worse when you constantly focus on your weak spots.
- You have to give everybody, even yourself, credit for having good qualities!
Gloomy Gus retired a few years ago. In a twist of fate, I inherited his position in the organization. I’m trying to learn from my predecessor’s mistakes.
I am concentrating on finding the strengths in each team member, no matter how buried they may be under flaws and foibles. Misconduct – that’s different and can’t be ignored. However, the fact that our team is made up of imperfect humans is just part of life. I try to deliberately point out the positive aspects of every situation. I also try to give myself credit for my own good qualities even as I attempt to improve in areas where I know I am weak.
I don’t want to be known as a Gloomy Gus. I want to be recognized for building a positive, encouraging, confident atmosphere in our office. One day, one situation, one choice at a time – that’s the way I’ll get it done.
—Monica