You Can't Be Creative If You're Fearful
In the current political
environment, your team could be exercising too much caution. You need to free
them from their fears or risk falling into mediocrity.
BY HOWARD
TULLMAN, GENERAL MANAGING PARTNER, G2T3V AND CHICAGO HIGH TECH
INVESTORS@TULLMAN
One of the saddest
things about our current state of affairs is how much time and effort is
expended on imaginary and inane fears largely manufactured by manipulative
media, MAGA-poisoned pols, and the always dependable religious nuts and
conspiracy mongers. These ridiculous rants and performative stunts have long
passed the point of novelty or entertainment.
They've also become so
pervasive and problematic that smart leaders and managers can no longer
ignore them. Because when people are confused and lose confidence in their
leaders and institutions, they're too easily driven by their fears and not
their hopes. And in startups especially, it's all about hopes and dreams for
the world, not fears of and for it.
This increasingly dire
situation -- where so many team members in firms of all sizes are losing faith
-- would be plenty painful but not entirely devastating if these garbage
conversations, infantile behaviors, and trashings of the rule of law were
confined to D.C. Because having the Republicans continue to make fools of
themselves certainly isn't the worst thing that could emerge from a Congress
now led (loosely speaking) by fools, fascists, frauds, and football coaches.
It's actually something of a relief that this crew couldn't pass a serious bill
that had any prospect of becoming law. Nor could they fashion a budget that
made even the slightest economic sense if their lives - instead of their
notoriety, incomes, and fundraising -- depended on it.
But when the non-stop
noise begins to impact our own employees' attitudes and our businesses'
prospects, it's another matter entirely. When you walk around and see more of
your people worrying than working, arguing about nonsense instead of advancing
the company, and focusing on a foreboding future, it's time for you to step in
-- like it or not -- because there's nothing more frightening than scared
people.
As Warren Zevon
sang: "you're a whole different
person when you're scared." Your people don't move, they
don't think, they're unable to act, and your business soon stands still. Fear,
whether warranted or unreasonable, is a great paralyzer. Fear can suck the
momentum out of any movement, and it's the leader's job to break through the
clutter, redirect the conversations, and make it clear that (a) worrying and
fueling their fears is a waste of energy and imagination and (b) other people's
fears and fantasies don't have to become theirs unless they let them. Their
faith in you, themselves, their abilities, and the vision needs to be stronger
than their fear. Worrying is like sitting in a rocking chair: you're in motion,
but you don't get anywhere.
Too many talents now
believe that every step forward, every innovation, and every act of change may
be perilous and needs to be checked, conformed, and revised to anticipate a
whole host of imagined fears. This hesitation can hobble the best instincts and
the most creative ideas of even the strongest and most talented players in
business and throughout our society.
The end result of this
self-censorship is that the ideas, products, and other creations are less than
they can and should be. Seeking constant consensus and avoiding the sharp edges
of creative ideas is a certain formula for mediocrity. Fear can
chase the best dreams into hiding. Worrying incessantly about the future is
like praying for what you don't want. It doesn't save you or take away
tomorrow's troubles, but it can simply kill today's best prospects. It never
pays to rehearse for bad news.
In the newest staging of
the classic Lerner and Loewe musical Camelot, which opened more than 60 years
ago, the New York Times reports that Aaron Sorkin
of West Wing fame felt the pressure to reimagine and
contextualize two of the musical's songs in order to pre-empt the umbrage
and outrage he expected from the woke and intently revisionist
crowd. If there's anyone who should be more than comfortable in his own
judgment and confident in his craft, it would be this guy. Yet even he found
himself in doubt, and for no good reason.
The first song, How to Handle a
Woman, was an obvious feminist landmine. Apart from the sheer
stupidity of anyone objecting to a song of roughly a dozen lines wherein
the sole gender management advice is to "simply love the
woman," it's hard to imagine how even an auteur as talented as Sorkin
could improve on that simple and succinct message to placate the play's easily
offended social critics. But we shall soon see how he threads that nebulous
needle.
The second song's
deficiencies are less clear. Apparently asking What Do the
Simple Folks Do? is insufferably classicist. I'm not sure
whether the theoretically offended group whose interests the zealots would
surely be protecting are actual "simple" people, whatever that may
mean these days, or whether the intended allusion and apparent slur was assumed
to be directed to the proletariat in general. Whatever the theoretical slander,
it was clear to Sorkin that changing the lyrics of this 63-year-old classic was
essential. In the event that you're curious, what the simple folks did according
to the original score "to shed their weary lot" and to "brighten
up their day" was to whistle and sing. And dance. Much the same advice
that the Seven Dwarfs shared with Snow White. Maybe DeSantis needs to get on
Disney again to clean up this mess.
The implicit
anti-classist suggestion of the know-it-alls is that we're not supposed to
speculate about what others do or think to address their concerns and angst.
Nor can we comment in any respect on their behaviors because such commentary
would clearly offend or trigger them and certainly hurt their feelings. This
whole ado only applies, apparently, to the allegedly privileged actions and
inconsiderate efforts of Broadway writers, revisers, and producers who are
restaging high-end historic musicals.
But only some musical
expressions are subject to liberal oversight and outrage. Rappers are free to
slime and slander women and cops and employ anti-Semitic tropes in their
"art" without anyone objecting. MAGA morons led by the Orange Monster
can corrupt and bastardize the sacred words of the Pledge of Allegiance without
complaint or commentary from the same egg-shell elites and their servile media.
The connection between
Broadway musicals and businesses is that you can't have your people getting so
concerned about future criticism - internal or external, smart or stupid,
talks or tweets - that they become tentative and self-editing in ways that sap
the momentum of your business. In the music game, when a hit group starts
working on their second album, too often it's all about fear, not instinct, and
creativity just doesn't happen. You have to be prepared and willing to bet on
an uncertain future and put your heart and soul into the effort and let the
chips fall where they may.
Most businesses are more
likely to lose out due to their inhibitions and reluctance to step on toes,
move aggressively against the competition, and take reasonable risks than from
their inability to perform or their other vulnerabilities. As the boss, you
need to help the team focus on finding something to hold on to that is more
important than their fears. Whoever can see and manage through fear will be the
ultimate winner. The caterpillar is safe in the cocoon, but it's the butterfly
that is beautiful.
