The New Court of Public Opinion

There’s an interesting characteristic of the online world that makes things sticky sometimes.

We can get opinions from anywhere.

The ubiquity of information means that not only can we comment or opine on anything, but it’s easy, and even widely accepted to do so.

It’s rather understood that if you put a statement, issue, opinion or action out there publicly, you are tacitly inviting commentary and opinion on same. (And if you choose to close your comments, that must mean you’re closed minded to others’ ideas, right? Anti-social? I think not.)

The more you share information, the more it’s reacted to. Sometimes you ask for opinions directly, but other times you don’t. Is simply publishing content of any kind an implied solicitation of input? Is that the price of being an unfettered publisher of ideas?

And when that happens, how do you figure out who to listen to? When you should put stock in something, and when not? When do you take heed of the stuff that’s not necessarily easy to hear, the criticisms that have merit, and when do you chalk it up to noise? Can you let any of the accolades act as a barometer either, or are they mostly empty, sycophantic ramblings? How to distinguish?

If you ignore it all, are you narrow minded? A snob? Or judicious about what input you entertain?

I’ve been called a snob for socializing with familiar faces in smaller groups instead of mingling among massive crowds. (There are reasons I don’t like crowds much). I’ve been accused of being elitist because someone offers an unsolicited opinion of what I’m doing wrong, or what I should write about, or how I should do my job, and I’ve chosen to do differently. I’ve seen friends, colleagues, and complete strangers come under fire for not responding in the way people want them to.

Should I care what you think?

The answer for me comes back to a constant: Trust.

Maybe more than just trust. Maybe it’s whether it feels like someone’s being thoughtful, or just asserting an opinion. (Julien Smith once gave me great constructive feedback about talking too fast in my speeches. What made me take that to heart?)

Maybe it’s whether that relationship feels like it has a reciprocal investment. Maybe it’s whether I have a sense of that person’s integrity, and their motivations for saying something in the first place.

For me, I’ve found a few ways to tap small groups of trusted advisors in my universe (thank you, Google Wave) for the kinds of questions I’d honestly be afraid to put out there in the public. The ones that show vulnerability or uncertainty on my end, that might give away the fact that I’m not made of armor. Or the ones that have a lot more to do with where I’m driving toward next.

I’ve found it amazingly helpful to have forged a few trusted affinities. They help offset the influx of impromptu commentary that’s much harder to filter.

But I’ve still got lots of questions about the expectations we’re setting for each other here. I’m as social as the next person, but that doesn’t mean everything I do or say is up for debate. Several people have been quoted as saying “What other people think of me is none of my business.”

Or… is it?

image credit: southerntabitha

Working Hard Or Working Lots?

In the realm of phrases that are often used to talk about what we do every day, we toss around “working hard”. Everything from what it takes to succeed in life, to social media and business and writing and all the things in between.

But here’s something to consider.

Working long hours doesn’t, by default, mean you’re working hard. You can work for hours at something totally and utterly valueless, and that doesn’t get you to where you want to be.

There’s an adage about working smarter, and that’s part of it. But you can work smart for an hour and not get anywhere, either.

The trick is in the balance between the two. It’s putting in serious, significant effort toward the things that line up with your priorities, goals, and needs. See the difference?

A 16-hour day is not a badge of honor. An email inbox full of 300+ messages isn’t an indicator of how successful you are. Those things are absolutely empty – foolish, even – unless the work you put toward them has impact on the end game, whatever that may be.

So when you say to us “I’m working so hard but not getting results”, it’s really likely you’re putting your effort in the wrong place. Don’t work blindly. Work diligently, with a keen editing eye, and if it’s long hours you intend to point to as evidence of your accomplishments, let them be hours spent in the places that matter. Busy isn’t the same as working hard.

That’s a tough game, isn’t it? It’s not enough to just put in the hours. A lot of the game is just showing up, but it’s not ALL of the game, not anymore. There’s way too much competition, plenty of noise, and way too many people willing to do whatever it takes to get it done. They’re making hard choices about what NOT to do in favor of focusing relentlessly on their mission-critical stuff.

So are you truly working hard, or are you just putting in the long hours? Are you auditing your work to be sure those hours are well spent? I know I have to work at this every day.

You?

image credit: jronaldlee

My Dirty Little College Secret

I have a lot of people ask me where I went to school, and what I studied in order to set myself up for the career path I have now. So it’s time for me to come clean with my dirty little secret:

I don’t have a college degree.

Moreover, when I was in school? I was a music major. Flute performance, to be exact. I am, actually, a professional band nerd.

To some of you, that’s not a biggie. To others, you’re sitting there going “but how on earth do you have a successful career in social media if you don’t have a marketing degree or something?”

My career path went something like this.

I went to school, and while I was fortunate to have some of it paid for, I changed majors and didn’t graduate in four years. And after my fifth year, I couldn’t afford to continue (bartending is awesome but not quite lucrative enough for rent AND a college education). I loved music, passionately, and wanted to be in the industry but not necessarily on the stage.

I walked in the door at the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra and asked for a job. Any job. Entry level, unglamorous. I got a job as a development assistant in the fundraising department earning $17,000 a year. I worked hard, and I learned.

That took me through 7 years of professional fundraising roles, both in the arts and in social services. From there I was recruited by a former colleague to lead first client services, then marketing and communications at a design and architecture firm, and I did that for several years. Then I left and started my own online communications business, worked my tail off to make it work – I would have been willing to work part time at Target to pay the bills if I had to – and did. A bit more than a year later, I got hired by my then-client, Radian6.

I overcame the lack of a degree with hard work. It’s that simple, and yet not.

In my first few jobs, people asked about the degree.  I addressed that discussion by saying that I didn’t complete my degree for financial reasons, but I could point to tangible professional results in the positions I’d had to date, and that I believed they illustrated my capabilities in a more practical way.

Some people listened, some didn’t. The ones that didn’t weren’t the right culture for me. And after that, people stopped asking, because my work spoke for itself. Yes, I’ve heard the “degree is proof that you can finish something” mantra, but I don’t buy it. Wouldn’t you rather know I can finish a project for you that can help build the business?

I earned the role I have today because I have a track record of results, no matter what role I was in, and when I was an employee or a consultant. Period.

But enough about me…

I’m a bit of a heretic. I’ve always defied convention just a little bit, but it’s demonstrated to me that in the career path I’ve walked, the degree wasn’t the important part.

You can do this too.

And even if you have a degree, it IS possible to make it relevant to a new career, a new industry, a new role. It’s about demonstrating how hard you can work, what results you’ve achieved (and what you learned when you missed the mark), and what you’re willing to do to earn credibility and trust that goes beyond your education.

If you don’t have a degree, or the “right” degree, you can very much still build a case for why you can do the job you want without it. That might require being willing to take a more junior role in order to earn your stripes. That might require meticulous attention to tracking the results of your projects, and illustrating how you’ve succeeded without it.

You might take volunteer or internship work (even as an established professional) in order to earn relevant experience in a new field. You might seek out a mentor in your desired field, and patiently spend your own personal time learning outside your current gig in order to build up a library of knowledge that can help you earn the gig.

The point is this: if you want to make something happen bad enough, you do what you have to do, and find ways around the obstacles instead of whining about their existence.

What will you do next?

I feel kind of odd writing a post that’s so me-focused, but I’m hoping that you can take something away from this that’s relevant to you. It is, after all, the perspective and experience I have. And folks ask about it so often that perhaps there’s something in this story or experience that translates, gives you some ideas, or helps you see things through a new lens.

Do you have a similar story to share? Has your degree or college experience helped or hindered you, or have you overcome a challenge on that front? Are you proving your value through demonstrated results and practical examples?

I’d love to hear your stories.

Special thanks to my colleagues at Radian6, most especially David Alston and Marcel Lebrun, for believing in me for what I could accomplish, and not the piece of paper that wasn’t in my pocket.

image credit: pthread1981

Picking Your Battles: 6 Questions to Ask

You’re in a meeting with a boss or your client, and it happens.

They present an idea or a plan, and your inner monologue says “WHAT? No way. No, no, no. We can’t do it that way.”

Disagreements and debates are inevitable, even healthy and progressive. But you can’t always be fighting upstream, so it’s important to choose your battles and focus your energy where it matters most. Here are six questions to ask yourself and help determine if today’s battle is one worth waging.

1. Is the investment required to make this argument worth the outcome?

Negotiating, making a case, and taking an alternative stance can require a significant time investment. Especially if your point of view or proposal requires many other people to change their way of thinking, you can be looking at several discussions over a significant period of time in order to make progress. And progress might come slowly, in small steps, even backwards ones along the way.

And never forget that debate is an intensely human thing. If you’re not careful about your approach, you can alienate people, hurt feelings, or cast yourself as the perpetual contrarian with a negative attitude. Learn to disagree constructively.

2. Is my disagreement fundamental or superficial?

Sometimes when we’re passionate about something, we can get swept up in the details and semantics, and argue against those instead of what’s really at issue. Take a moment to breathe, and decide whether you’re resisting a subtlety of approach or detail, or whether you’re really looking for an alternative to the root issue for a significant reason. The latter might be worth your time. The former probably isn’t.

3. Can I back up my argument with a solution?

If you’re disagreeing with how something is being approached, you need to to be able to offer a viable alternative. It’s not useful or helpful to just dislike or point out all the reasons why something won’t work. Instead, you need to be able to articulate and illustrate how a different approach might be more effective or efficient or simply more attractive for whatever reason. If you can’t offer an alternative, or aren’t willing to work to find one, you’re just stirring up trouble.

4. Is the opposite outcome detrimental to my work, or just an inconvenience or irritation?

Stop for a moment and honestly consider what might happen if you’re overruled. Will this get squarely in the way of progress for you? Does it go against the law, your morals or your ethics? Or is it something you can work around, even if it’s a bit of a bitter pill? Framing things in terms of the unattractive option will sometimes help you understand whether or not you really need to fight, or whether you can  just let it go.

5. Is there a middle ground I can live with?

Compromise matters a lot. Few issues are truly black and white, so think about where the grey areas are for you. Take your ideal scenario, and move toward the opposite a step or two. Is that livable? Which elements and ideals are negotiable, and which ones are core to your beliefs, goals, or ability to meet expectations.

6. Will I care about this six months from now?

Resist getting swept up in the moment and losing perspective about how this issue fits into the proverbial big picture. Is this a temporary annoyance or obstacle? Will you care in a month? Six months? A year? What’s the residual impact of either approach or middle-of-the-road alternatives, and can you live with that?

Sometimes, resistance is Borgishly futile. Sometimes it’s just plain unnecessary. Other times, presenting alternatives, pushing for change or compromise is a good thing, or even an essential one.

But perpetual contrarians rarely retain credibility over time. Pick your battles carefully, and you might just win the next one that really, truly matters to you.

image by Paul J Everett

Growing Into Leadership

People aren’t born into leadership positions. We usually start in the trenches, as the doers. The bricklayers. The people touching all the parts, from the inside out.  We earn the right to lead the projects and the vision by doing the work itself, and doing it well. But therein usually lies the rub.

Because the hardest part of learning to lead well is letting go of the execution, the very thing that earned us our spot at the head of the team, and entrusting others with the building and construction.

The old saying of “if you want something done right, do it yourself” just doesn’t play at scale. That’s not how great ideas come to fruition, and it’s not how great businesses are built.

As I’ve learned to lead rather than do (and that’s a constant process), a few key concepts have helped me a great deal to stay on track, and perhaps they’ll help you too, or someone you know emerging into a leadership role.

Navigation:

• Build consensus around shared goals and direction.
• Present the what – the shared vision or goals – but not necessarily the how.
• Communicate expectations clearly and often.
• Avoid dictating the plans yourself, but rather help refine the roadmaps that others have built and presented.

Advocacy:

• Champion and enable others’ ideas instead of always handing others ideas to execute.
• Allow your teams sometimes to fail in their search for the approach that works, and to help them find the lessons in those failures.
• Protect nascent ideas and allow them time to incubate without immediate interference from bureaucracy and naysayers.
• Encourage respectful discourse and sharing of opinions and viewpoints, including opposing ones.
• Recognize success openly, sincerely, and often.

Perspective:

• Provide context, history, and organizational intelligence to empower your teams with information upon which to build their plans.
• Look past today’s projects to envision what tomorrow might look like and how you can guide toward it.
• Present alternative views or looks at stubborn problems.
• Consistently evaluate team dynamics and capabilities, and make the tough people decisions to ensure you’ve got the right people in the right roles.

Trust:

• Provide direct lines of communication with each team member, and be available.
• Keep confidences, period.
• Hire capable, smart people, and be willing to get out of their way.
• Be responsible and accountable for your decisions and their results, and avoid scapegoating and blame.
• Share the credit, and the spotlight.

Learning to be a leader can be challenging when you’ve built a career on doing the work. Old habits die hard. It’s sometimes hard to believe that anyone can do what you do and do it as well, or better. But if you’ve got designs on building something bigger than you, you’re going to need to build and empower a team around you. It’s just not possible to do it alone.

So what would you add to my list? How would you help new and emerging leaders get comfortable with their roles? I’m looking forward to your comments. Fire away.