March, 2002, Volume 6, Number 6

Daniel Goleman, Richard Boyatzis, and Annie McKee build an extended argument in their new book – Primal Leadership: Realizing the Power of Emotional Intelligence – that we under-appreciate the role of a leader’s own emotions in inspiring or dispiriting those who are looking for guidance.   

While we correctly identify the capacities of leadership to include technical expertise, strategic thinking, and decisive action, the authors contend that those are not enough to energize and mobilize the troops.  Leaders must also tap into their follower’s emotions:  that is what really excites people to give their best.  

“Great leaders,” say the authors, “ignite our passion and inspire the best in us.  When we try to explain why they are so effective, we speak of strategy, vision, or powerful ideas.  But the reality is much more primal:  Great leadership works through emotions.”  

Leaders set the tone for everybody because it is they who are most keenly watched, and it is they who signal what emotions are legitimate.  The tone of top managers is infectious:  their confidence breeds assurance; their anxiety causes apprehension; their anger fosters hostility.  

The “hard-hitting but heartless” manager can often achieve initial results but just as often fail to  sustain them as employee goodwill vanishes.  What often emerges in the workforce instead, say the authors, is a pernicious combination of “false bravado, thoughtless compliance,” and “open resentment.” 

When a media executive announced that a news division was to be closed, his brusque and uncaring manner proved incendiary.  He was followed by another executive who by stark contrast spoke from the heart about the calling of journalism, and though he could offer no more respite from the mass layoff that the prior manager, he was cheered at the end. 

The effective communication of emotion, then, is a critical capacity for effective leadership, and it can be mastered by anybody at any level.  Intelligent understanding of emotions is required, and that can be learned through self-guided efforts, personal coaching, and instructional programs.  Among the essential qualities that must be acquired are self-awareness of one’s own expressed emotions, an empathy with others’ emotional states, and an appreciation for how one’s mood affects others.  So too are personal optimism, motivational transparency, and behavioral flexibility.  

The authors close their account with an appeal for mastery for what they have come to view as central to any leader’s success:  “Emotionally intelligent leaders know how to manage their disruptive emotions so that they can keep their focus, thinking clearly under pressure.”  They “see their way to a brighter future, communicate that vision with resonance, and lead the way.”   Such “leaders know when to be collaborative and when to be visionary, when to listen and when to command” and, as a result, “they build a fierce loyalty by caring about the careers of those who work for them, and inspire people to give their best for a mission that speaks to shared values.”  

Source:  Daniel Goleman, Richard Boyatzis, and Annie McKee build an extended argument in their new book, Primal Leadership: Realizing the Power of Emotional Intelligence (Boston: Harvard Business School Press, 2002). 


Wharton Leadership Ventures:  Mountain Experience and Management Practice 

By Anurag Bhardwaj and Ayesha Rahman, Wharton MBA Students (WG ‘02)

Wharton Leadership Ventures are designed to take participants into settings where they can further their management capacities by confronting real challenges and making difficult decisions.  They are intended to provide hands-on experiences for exploring and mastering the capabilities of individual and team leadership in business and beyond.  The ventures have included an annual climb of the Ecuadorian volcanoes of Cayabme (18,997 ft.) and Cotopaxi (19,348 ft.), and an annual trek up the slopes of Mt. Everest to a subsidiary summit (18,238 ft.). 

When we talked to several participants about how they felt about their Wharton venture experiences, their responses both surprised and inspired us. 

Geoff Pardo of the Ecuador climb observed that while the Wharton leadership and teamwork curriculum is oriented towards case studies and theory, the ascent gave him a true sense of what it means to lead and to be a part of a team.  He became far more receptive to discussions about leadership and teamwork because of their immediate relevance to the situation he found himself in.    

For many participants, the experience was a journey of self discovery about one’s own potential. Harry Hirschman of the Ecuador climb overcame the debilitating symptoms of Crohn’s disease and overrode the disapproval of his doctor to join the trek. Tom Bevan, also on the Ecuador climb, did not initially believe he had it in him to push all the way to the summit.  Yet when he decided to accompany a sick teammate to the base, he summoned all the energy he needed to get it done.  

Far away from the challenges of juggling numerous professional and personal commitments in a harried world, the beauty and vastness of the Himalayas created for some an invaluable moment for introspection.  “I asked myself”, said one participant, “why the heck did I have four kids if I can’t make time for them?”  She decided during the Mt. Everest trek to leave her current job as the director of a hospital’s emergency services and return to service as an emergency room physician.  She concluded that she would have a more direct impact in helping others and could better balance her personal life.     

The Mt. Everest trek route passes by several ancient and Buddhist monasteries.  While talking with their lamas about leadership in Buddhism and their own practices, Steve Fahmie found that the ancient myths and metaphors of this Himalayan region had a unique way of bring bringing leadership issues to life for him. 

The rigorous physical challenge of the climb also led to further insights on team dynamics. “Putting others in the team at risk for reasons of pride or appearances was just not an option,” offered one participant.  “When you are climbing up a mountain it is easy to come to grips with your own limitations.”  

In planning for the ascent of the volcanoes in Ecuador, the climbers divided themselves into several rope teams according to the expectations of their relative pace up the mountain.  Here, accurate self-assessment was essential to ensure that the rope teams could move at the right pace.  A slow climber on a fast team would soon become exhausted; a fast climber on a slow team would quickly become frustrated. Yet so accurate were the climbers’ self-appraisals that they precisely corresponded to the groupings that the several professional mountain guides had worked out in their minds.  Though participants wanted to prove themselves, they refrained from over-rating themselves.   

For Harry Hirschman, an enduring lesson from the Ecuador climb was that “you realize the importance of making the weakest person stronger, because you can only move as fast as the slowest person.”  The experience underscored the importance in company management of working to make good people on a team even stronger.   

Two of the Ecuador climbing teams were forced to turn back from within a few hundred feet of the summit because of adverse weather or dangerous ice on the mountain.  Yet when the decision to turn around just short of the summit was made by the rope teams, no one felt disappointed. They viewed the climb’s real achievement as having made it as high as they did with a team.  One of them still described it as one of the “best Wharton experience ever.”   

The Center for Leadership in Dynamic Organizations of Cornell University has opened a website at http://www.johnson.cornell.edu/leadership.  The Center’s mission is to facilitate the creation, dissemination, and application of knowledge about leadership and organizational change.  Its “Resources” page offers information for researchers, students, and practitioners; its “Research” page includes a searchable list of articles on leadership and related topics; and its “Practice” page includes leadership profiles, case studies, best practices, and executive education offerings. 

Note: You can reach the Center at leadership@cornell.edu, and its director, Professor Beta Manix, at eam33@cornell.edu


Commentary: Living With the Aftermath of Tough Decisions

By Colonel James E. Moschgat, Commander of the 12th Operations Group, 12th Flying Training Wing, Randolph Air Force Base, Texas 

A cat-like mist crept over the Cambridge American Cemetery 60 miles north of London as steady rain from a leaden sky turned nearly 4,000 crosses and Stars of David a glistening white.

I stood at rigid attention watching over 100 white-haired former B-17 crewmen place a wreath before a memorial bearing the names of 5,126 missing American servicemen from WWII, most of them young airmen who vanished forever in the skies over Europe. As the last strains of Taps faded into the nearby wood, the veterans and their families drifted off, lost in their memories, to visit comrades who had rested on foreign soil for more than 45 years.

I quietly followed, feeling somewhat like an intruder among this group of aged warriors walking on hallowed ground. But soon I too was lost in thought, for each cross told a story: here a young lieutenant of 19 from New York who died on D-Day, there a sergeant from Mississippi who met his end on Christmas Day 1944 during the Battle of the Bulge.

The sight of an elderly gentlemen on his knees, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably, quickly brought me back to reality. Rushing to his side, I knelt beside him on the wet grass and asked if he needed help, but words failed him. For what seemed like an eternity he gasped for breath as tears streamed from his red-rimmed eyes. Finally, with a shaking hand he pointed at the crosses before him. Seven of them abreast bore a remarkable similarity -- the same squadron designation and the same date of death.

Clutching the sleeve of my service dress uniform, Jake (not his real name) looked into my eyes and, in a tortured whisper said, “Those guys are here because of me.”

Jake continued without being asked, although the words came painfully. Just 20 years old, he’d commanded a B-17 and a crew of 10 men, really boys, back in the winter of 1944. On Mission 15, their aircraft had been badly damaged by flak over Germany, two men were severely wounded and, with two engines shot out, their aircraft strayed from the formation and lost altitude, making them easy prey for Luftwaffe fighters. The crew fought valiantly, but their aircraft took even more punishment from swarming Messerschmitts before Jake dove through a cloud deck and evaded further attack. After what seemed a lifetime, the English Channel came into view.

However, death still stalked Jake and his crew. Losing altitude, he ordered them to throw everything overboard to lighten the load and stem their steady descent. The crew began to excitedly discuss their options. They could ditch in the Channel, but it was winter and most, especially the wounded, would surely perish in the icy water.

Someone suggested they turn around and bail out over the continent, but uncertain of their location they risked capture. Jake also knew the wounded men would not survive a parachute descent. Should they continue to their base? Their shuddering, screeching ship reminded them they might not even make it to England.

Finally a gunner asked Jake, “Skipper, what do you think we should do?” A silence filled each crewman’s headset while the 20-year-old pilot pondered his options and tried to shrug off the heavy invisible weight that rested on his shoulders.

Though their aircraft was a total loss, he couldn’t risk the lives of his wounded men. Taking stock of the situation Jake noticed their fall toward the gray water had stopped, the controls were solid, and two engines were purring.

“Men,” he told his crew, “stick with me. I can get her back.” Sensing his confidence and trusting their young leader’s judgment, each chimed in, “OK, Skip, we’re with you. Take us home.”

Jake nursed his crippled Fort to the nearest airfield and set up for an approach to the longest runway. Just as it looked like they’d make the tarmac, luck abandoned the crew. A strained third engine caught fire and failed, causing the faltering bird to plummet earthward. Seven airmen died in the fiery crash, but Jake and two others survived. Miraculously, one of the wounded men was among the living.

Like a line from the movie “Saving Private Ryan,” Jake’s next words pulled my vision into the present. Kneeling there, his thin, rain-matted hair hanging in tear-stained eyes, Jake sighed, “Not a day has passed that I haven’t thought of them.”

Only then did I sense the burden he carried. As a young airman, his decision had forever altered countless lives and left an indelible brand on his own soul.

As I helped Jake back to the waiting bus I drummed up the courage to ask him about his ill-fated decision over the Channel. If he could relive that mission in 1944, I inquired, what would he do differently? His answer surprised me, “Nothing,” Jake said. “You see,” Jake said, “the Air Corps trained me to make decisions and I think I made the right one. It’s just living with the consequences that’s tough.”

I’ve pondered his words many times over the years and Jake was right. The Air Force spends a lot of time teaching each of us to make decisions, but how well do we prepare ourselves to deal with the burden and consequences of decision-making? Granted, few of us will ever face a combat decision like Jake’s, but most of us will make decisions with life-altering, career-changing consequences.

Think about it. As a supervisor, have you made a recommendation to approve or disapprove an airman’s request for a Stop-Loss waiver? When it came time to pick someone to fill a contingency tasking to a remote, combat location, were you the one who made the call? Perhaps you were burdened by a decision to administer punishment to a young airman that would affect not only the military member, but his family as well. Those are all tough calls.

Later I asked Jake how he dealt with the burden of his decision, and here’s what he told me. It’s not an all-inclusive list, but it’s a good starting point.

First, make decisions keeping your mission and your people foremost in mind. Never decide an issue based on personal desires or self-serving interests. To do so is a violation of the trust placed in you as a leader and supervisor. Putting your mission and people first will leave you with a clear conscience.

Second, train hard and train well. Know your business cold and be prepared to act. Making a poor decision due to ignorance or lack of preparation is unforgivable. Likewise, don’t let a lack of experience paralyze you. Indecisiveness is generally more harmful than a hasty, but tempered move.

Third, learn from your mistakes, but don’t beat yourself up using “20-20 hindsight.” Usually our decision-making improves with experience. That’s life. Criticizing yourself based on information you gleaned after the fact is unreasonable and unhealthy.

Fourth, don’t live with a bad decision just because you’re the one who made it. If new facts arise and there’s time for a midcourse correction, take it. There’s no glory in following the wrong course just to save your pride. On the other hand, if you’re confident in the decision, stay the course. Zigzagging all over the decision-making map can have disastrous results.

Fifth, prepare yourself morally and spiritually for decision-making. It’s a proven fact that physical well-being contributes to good decisions. Likewise, being well rested promotes mental acuity and helps buffer the strain of decision-making. Getting adequate daily rest and periodically taking leave rejuvenates a soul.

What of the soul? Have you considered the moral consequences of your decisions? If not, now might be the time to ready yourself. Jake found solace by turning to a source of wisdom greater than his own. Reading the Bible, consulting with a friend or talking to a chaplain, he assured me, helped when faced with hard decisions and their aftermath.

Decision-making is a part of life, especially in the military. Our profession may call upon each of us to make life and death decisions at a moment’s notice. Jake’s example proves fate doesn’t necessarily hand tough decisions to those with the highest rank, the most experience, the right age, or one sex or the other.

Jake was ready, made the tough call, and lived a lifetime with a clear conscience. I hope his five simple rules will help you prepare to do the same.

Note:  James Moschgat can be contacted at james.moschgat@randolph.af.mil.