Great bands don’t play to the backs of people’s heads; they play to the crowd that’s listening. Great leaders ought to do the same.
Any kind of communication is challenging when you really care. Whether you’re sharing a key message to the team, casting an inspiring vision, engaging in a difficult conversation, or navigating your team through great change, it’s inherently challenging. We want to get it right so we think deeply about how to communicate with clarity, caring, candor, and conviction in an inviting manner. But not everyone hears the tune we’re playing the same way we’re playing it.
I’ve thought about this a lot lately as Blayne and I published our first book, Perseverance > Endurance. We spent years working on this book and shared some hard lessons in an effort to be generous. Though we respect that not everyone can relate to the feeling of SOF leaders in combat, we shared some stories of loss, fear, helplessness, and hopelessness to open up new windows into those old human emotions we can all relate to.
We also shared a lot of frameworks and illustrations to equip leaders to persevere through adversity. We’re proud of what we’ve put into the world. And while I’d love for the book to be a hit, I know some will turn the station as soon as they hear it. I suspect any great band out there has experienced this.
“A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality.”
Artists throughout my lifetime (at least) have shared countless stories of rejection and grit selling their tapes and CDs from the trunks of their cars. Countless bands share powerful stories eking out mile after mile, city by city, playing to groups of five in clubs and bars before playing to tens of thousands in the amphitheaters and arenas. It’s part of the process. Can you imagine if they decided to play to the haters instead of running with the crowds?
I can because I’m tempted at times to do just that. I’m tempted to move towards the people in the crowd who aren’t feeling the vibe as opposed to vibing with those who are. I feel the challenge to "turn them” to our sound instead of playing to those nodding their heads. Tempted to speak to those leaning out instead of those leaning in. And I know I’m not alone.
As leaders, we spend painstaking hours crafting communications. We do this to inspire, inform, and include. We try to draw others in because they are in. Though we tune our sound to the team, some teammates tune out. And it sucks because we care. If you can relate, I have two words to share that I remind myself whenever I’m baited to lament the 1-star book review instead of celebrating the many 5-stars, thoughtful texts, and powerfully written reviews: Keep Going. The payoff awaits.
In 1962, Decca Records turned down signing The Beatles. Famously, a record exec claimed, “We don’t like your sound. Groups of four guitarists are on the way out.” They were, in fact, only getting started, and their music changed the world. Can you imagine if John, Paul, George, and Ringo scrapped their sound after that first big rejection? The world would be all the poorer.
That’s not to suggest the rejection didn’t hurt. I can only imagine it must have. I know it hurts to see a 1-star rating on a book we worked so hard for. I know it hurts when teammates roll their eyes at communication intended to help them. Hell, it hurts when a community we are close to says, “No thank you,” to sharing our book. But I also know that sticking with it wins the day, even when it hurts.
Draw in those leaning in. Invite those leaning out, but don't wait for them, and don’t change your tune for them. Some will never get it, but as Seth Godin says, “It wasn’t for them anyhow.” And the ones who do get it will own the tune and improve it with every new voice added to the same song.
