by Paul Tough
Investigating successful kids and programs at low-income schools and high-achieving prep schools, as well as interviewing psychologists and neuroscientists, Tough challenges some conventional wisdom on causes of failure (poverty, teacher quality) and contends that nurturing character in children and young adults is the key to success. He argues that the gap between poorer and wealthier kids’ success levels is caused not mostly through lack of cognitive stimulation, but through a chaotic environment where mothering attachment is lacking and childhood traumas are plentiful. Evidence for this abounds: there is a drop-off in performance among elite prep school kids who have had no lessons in determination and failure management; the ACE score, a measurement of childhood trauma, is a reliable indicator of future performance; and a student’s GPA is a better indicator of college completion than standardized tests, regardless of the quality of the school (which makes sense: a kid in a chaotic environment with a high GPA obviously had high determination, while a kid in the richest prep school with tutoring and enrichment opportunities abounding, with an average GPA, is clearly not working as hard as he could be. The good news is that according to some of his interview subjects, mothering skills can be taught and non-cognitive skills such as curiosity and grit are malleable traits and can be developed fairly late in life.
I found this book to be inspiring and important. Written in an easy, engaging style, with great ideas and surprising revelations bursting forth from nearly every page. The broad studies and character interviews are extremely valuable, while a surprisingly long discursus on chess isn’t so much – and why Tough gives any page time to the “bell curve” idea, which is basically giving a little air time to Hitler, is beyond me. Of course, in a way it’s a depressing book, because it makes clear how totally the system has failed low-income kids, giving the most needy the least instruction – though Tough notes that some programs, such as the Knowledge Is Power Program, are trying to make a difference. In the end, Tough diplomatically addresses what few dare to, though I have advocated for years: we don’t need teacher reform or school reform quite as much as we need family reform. It’s a delicate thing for a well-off white person to criticize the parenting skills of poorer minority parents, but the fact is that with a few simple lessons to new parents after a child’s birth, many costly problems would be avoided before they began. They do it in Germany – it’s too bad so many policymakers in America are so short-sighted when it comes to helping others.
four stars
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Friday, September 6, 2013
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
The Blessing of a Skinned Knee: Using Jewish Teachings to Raise Self-Reliant Children
by Wendy Mogel
The author, a psychologist who came to believe that the power of spiritual assurance and community had more of a healing power than therapy, explains how the Talmud can help parents raise children sensibly. She asserts that the three pillars of Jewish teaching – moderation, celebration, and sanctification – can be applied to areas such as chores, eating, self-control, and stress. She starts with the premise that children do not belong to their parents, but are a gift on loan from God, born to leave their parents. If you accept this, is logically follows that it is a parental duty to allow their children to be a little cold or a little hungry at times, to develop their ability to handle misfortune. She also makes use of the principle “deed over creed” – that is, good works inform good thoughts. It’s perfectly all right for children to feel irritated, or less than compassionate, but they should discipline themselves to act appropriately.
I was astounded at how similar this book is to Simplicity Parenting: subtract the admonition that God is commanding you to do these things, and Mogel’s book is an echo of Kim Payne’s: kids need to have good role models; kids need room to explore and fall and get up on their own; kids need less material goods so they learn to feel gratitude for what they do have; families need a day a week or an hour a day to have quiet reflection and connection; kids should get less media overload; kids need to eat what their parents eat. Mogel’s book does have quite a few nuggets of wisdom of her own beyond the basics, though, such as her advice to reframe children’s “bad” behavior as a strength (bossiness as assurance, complaining as discerning), her sensible tips on rebuking a child so the child keeps his dignity, or her precept that it is the certainty of a consequence, not the severity, that counts when teaching children. Still, what this all boils down to, whether cloaked in the language of family counseling or rabbinical teaching, is the most common-sense, simplistic truths. Be a parent, not a lawyer. Say no and mean it. Set boundaries. Don’t bend over backwards for your child. Let children see the consequences of their wrong actions. Model good behavior yourself, obviously. Take time to be together as a family. It’s bizarre that so many parents don’t understand these things without needing an “expert” to tell them, but there it is.
four stars
The author, a psychologist who came to believe that the power of spiritual assurance and community had more of a healing power than therapy, explains how the Talmud can help parents raise children sensibly. She asserts that the three pillars of Jewish teaching – moderation, celebration, and sanctification – can be applied to areas such as chores, eating, self-control, and stress. She starts with the premise that children do not belong to their parents, but are a gift on loan from God, born to leave their parents. If you accept this, is logically follows that it is a parental duty to allow their children to be a little cold or a little hungry at times, to develop their ability to handle misfortune. She also makes use of the principle “deed over creed” – that is, good works inform good thoughts. It’s perfectly all right for children to feel irritated, or less than compassionate, but they should discipline themselves to act appropriately.
I was astounded at how similar this book is to Simplicity Parenting: subtract the admonition that God is commanding you to do these things, and Mogel’s book is an echo of Kim Payne’s: kids need to have good role models; kids need room to explore and fall and get up on their own; kids need less material goods so they learn to feel gratitude for what they do have; families need a day a week or an hour a day to have quiet reflection and connection; kids should get less media overload; kids need to eat what their parents eat. Mogel’s book does have quite a few nuggets of wisdom of her own beyond the basics, though, such as her advice to reframe children’s “bad” behavior as a strength (bossiness as assurance, complaining as discerning), her sensible tips on rebuking a child so the child keeps his dignity, or her precept that it is the certainty of a consequence, not the severity, that counts when teaching children. Still, what this all boils down to, whether cloaked in the language of family counseling or rabbinical teaching, is the most common-sense, simplistic truths. Be a parent, not a lawyer. Say no and mean it. Set boundaries. Don’t bend over backwards for your child. Let children see the consequences of their wrong actions. Model good behavior yourself, obviously. Take time to be together as a family. It’s bizarre that so many parents don’t understand these things without needing an “expert” to tell them, but there it is.
four stars
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Mind in the Making: The Seven Essential Life Skills Every Child Needs
by Ellen Galinsky
The author, a long-time author and researcher on parenting and child development, outlines seven skills that are necessary for children (and adults) to be engaged learners and critical thinkers. They are: (1) focus and self-control; (2) perspective taking – being flexible and reflecting about others’ feelings; (3) communicating; (4) making connections between things learned; (5) critical thinking – learning what sources of information to trust; (6) taking on challenges – overcoming stress factors; and (7) self-directed learning. With a plethora of interesting studies on infant attention, language development, memory, parent connections, object sense, and so on, Galinsky shows how the developing brain has the potential to grasp these complex concepts. Each chapter also has a list of suggestions parents and teachers can apply to help their children along: be the guide, not the arbiter of pretend play; teach deep ideas and explore them, not a shallow overview of a subject; give kids a degree of control over the things that scare them; let kids’ passions guide them through stress and challenges; let children remember by teaching what they’ve learned; make a point of talking about others’ feelings aloud; focus on quality and attitude and open questions rather than the quantity of books or ideas; etc.
It’s written in an easy, approachable style, with not too much of the repetition that this kind of book often has. I enjoyed reading about the studies, though many of them (such as those that deal with language acquisition or object sense in infants) are not really applicable to my work. There’s definitely value in these pages, but I have the same complaint (it’s not even a criticism, really, since this is an inherent quality of the genre) about this that I do with nearly every other parenting or self-help book I read: the great majority of the advice given is so basic, so common-sense and obvious, that I wonder who exactly needs it. Obviously, there are low-income, low-education families out there who might need to be told such nuggets as, “Create an environment at home where reading is important,” or “Create a bond of trust with your child,” or “Select computer games that promote paying attention” – but are those families really reading this book? Who is it that selects this book and reads it with purpose, and yet also needs to be told to “Talk about shapes, numbers, and quantities with your kids”? Perhaps many people do; I find that depressing.
three stars
The author, a long-time author and researcher on parenting and child development, outlines seven skills that are necessary for children (and adults) to be engaged learners and critical thinkers. They are: (1) focus and self-control; (2) perspective taking – being flexible and reflecting about others’ feelings; (3) communicating; (4) making connections between things learned; (5) critical thinking – learning what sources of information to trust; (6) taking on challenges – overcoming stress factors; and (7) self-directed learning. With a plethora of interesting studies on infant attention, language development, memory, parent connections, object sense, and so on, Galinsky shows how the developing brain has the potential to grasp these complex concepts. Each chapter also has a list of suggestions parents and teachers can apply to help their children along: be the guide, not the arbiter of pretend play; teach deep ideas and explore them, not a shallow overview of a subject; give kids a degree of control over the things that scare them; let kids’ passions guide them through stress and challenges; let children remember by teaching what they’ve learned; make a point of talking about others’ feelings aloud; focus on quality and attitude and open questions rather than the quantity of books or ideas; etc.
It’s written in an easy, approachable style, with not too much of the repetition that this kind of book often has. I enjoyed reading about the studies, though many of them (such as those that deal with language acquisition or object sense in infants) are not really applicable to my work. There’s definitely value in these pages, but I have the same complaint (it’s not even a criticism, really, since this is an inherent quality of the genre) about this that I do with nearly every other parenting or self-help book I read: the great majority of the advice given is so basic, so common-sense and obvious, that I wonder who exactly needs it. Obviously, there are low-income, low-education families out there who might need to be told such nuggets as, “Create an environment at home where reading is important,” or “Create a bond of trust with your child,” or “Select computer games that promote paying attention” – but are those families really reading this book? Who is it that selects this book and reads it with purpose, and yet also needs to be told to “Talk about shapes, numbers, and quantities with your kids”? Perhaps many people do; I find that depressing.
three stars
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Simplicity Parenting: Using the Extraordinary Power of Less to Raise Calmer, Happier, and More Secure Kids
by Kim John Payne with Lisa M. Ross
A how-to book on relieving stress from families, kids and parents alike. The key to Payne’s approach is simplifying, or filtering: less stuff, fewer toys, limited electronics, limited or no television, less news and adult drama in children’s lives, a greatly reduced schedule (one competitive sport, or one musical instrument, not everything at once). Payne argues that open, unstructured time is best for kids – time for them to be in charge of creative projects, time for them to discover themselves, or time for calm family connections. He posits that when kids have fewer options, they are freed from the stress of always wanting the next big thing, and come to appreciate the connections with the things they do have. He advocates ritual and routine to remove stress: a family dinner plan, for example, so kids know what to expect about food and parents don’t have to prepare at the last minute. Finally, regarding discipline, he advocates less speech – don’t drown your kids in endless narrative, choices, or questions, but offer simple instructions, and be there as a listener in return.
This is a pretty good book for its type. It’s written in a conversational, approachable style that occasionally borders on the meandering. He’s a zealot, but he doesn’t have a hectoring tone. His advice, of course, is good, though it doubtlessly comes as a shock to many parents in our consumerist, competitive culture. I’m reminded of a Buddhist precept: accept what can’t be changed; don’t chase happiness, because once you’ve attained it you’ll just want something else to make you happy. At times, Payne’s zealotry makes him claim some rather implausible things (kids today have PTSD because of their hectic schedules? Just start going to the park, and neighborhood kids will drop their PS3s and follow you as “word gets through the neighborhood grapevine”? Really?), but it is well-intentioned. Sure, as with most of these parenting books, the advice really just boils down to “Stop trying to please your kid, and be a parent!” Stop pleading with your child, and direct him. Why anyone would want to spend an hour every evening arguing with a four year old about eating or going to sleep is beyond me, but a lot of people seem to need to be told not to. So good for Payne for that.
three stars
A how-to book on relieving stress from families, kids and parents alike. The key to Payne’s approach is simplifying, or filtering: less stuff, fewer toys, limited electronics, limited or no television, less news and adult drama in children’s lives, a greatly reduced schedule (one competitive sport, or one musical instrument, not everything at once). Payne argues that open, unstructured time is best for kids – time for them to be in charge of creative projects, time for them to discover themselves, or time for calm family connections. He posits that when kids have fewer options, they are freed from the stress of always wanting the next big thing, and come to appreciate the connections with the things they do have. He advocates ritual and routine to remove stress: a family dinner plan, for example, so kids know what to expect about food and parents don’t have to prepare at the last minute. Finally, regarding discipline, he advocates less speech – don’t drown your kids in endless narrative, choices, or questions, but offer simple instructions, and be there as a listener in return.
This is a pretty good book for its type. It’s written in a conversational, approachable style that occasionally borders on the meandering. He’s a zealot, but he doesn’t have a hectoring tone. His advice, of course, is good, though it doubtlessly comes as a shock to many parents in our consumerist, competitive culture. I’m reminded of a Buddhist precept: accept what can’t be changed; don’t chase happiness, because once you’ve attained it you’ll just want something else to make you happy. At times, Payne’s zealotry makes him claim some rather implausible things (kids today have PTSD because of their hectic schedules? Just start going to the park, and neighborhood kids will drop their PS3s and follow you as “word gets through the neighborhood grapevine”? Really?), but it is well-intentioned. Sure, as with most of these parenting books, the advice really just boils down to “Stop trying to please your kid, and be a parent!” Stop pleading with your child, and direct him. Why anyone would want to spend an hour every evening arguing with a four year old about eating or going to sleep is beyond me, but a lot of people seem to need to be told not to. So good for Payne for that.
three stars
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
The Third Chapter: Passion, Risk, and Adventure in the 25 Years After 50
by Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot
The author, a professor of sociology at Harvard, uses forty detailed oral case studies of people – all educated, successful, and financially secure – between the ages 50 and 75 to delineate the new ways of learning such people develop. She argues that people in this age range (which she calls the “Third Chapter”) is undergoing a slow cultural reorientation, from being thought of as a time of quiet retirement and seclusion to an active, giving, creative reengagement. It is also characterized by a painful process of reexamining priorities and experiencing the tension of contradictory impulses: the need to confront old ghosts vs. the need to “give forward” to the next generation; the lettering go of formal school skills vs. the embrace of a new, collaborative, public way of learning; the desire to accomplish something with the few years left vs. the realistic acceptance that success come slowly, through failure; etc.
It’s an interesting assessment; though I’m not a Third Chapter denizen yet, I found some degree of inspiration and optimism from the case studies (retirees going to work in war zones, public gardens, throwing themselves into new fields like piano and acting). I have some minor cavils, such as repeated misspellings (“peak” for “peek” – not a huge deal, but in an academic work like this, these errors erode the author’s credibility). And although Lawrence-Lightfoot’s authorial voice is warm and sincere, the prose is rather turgid and prolix the way such academic essays tend to be: the introduction which repeats main points given in the chapter, the conclusion which re-repeats those points; the tendency to paraphrase and quote someone (“he feels fortunate (‘truly blessed’)”… - why both?). My major objections to the argument, however, are that (a) it uses a small sample of privileged people to make generalizations about reengagement at this stage of life – which the author acknowledges; (b) it ends by advocating a massive overhaul of our cultural mores and assumptions about the elderly, our education system, and inter-generational collaboration – which is not helpful for those wishing a practical guide to reengagement; and (c) I wonder if this “new way of learning” isn’t particular to the Third Chapter, or any age group, but anyone going through any transition, really.
three stars
The author, a professor of sociology at Harvard, uses forty detailed oral case studies of people – all educated, successful, and financially secure – between the ages 50 and 75 to delineate the new ways of learning such people develop. She argues that people in this age range (which she calls the “Third Chapter”) is undergoing a slow cultural reorientation, from being thought of as a time of quiet retirement and seclusion to an active, giving, creative reengagement. It is also characterized by a painful process of reexamining priorities and experiencing the tension of contradictory impulses: the need to confront old ghosts vs. the need to “give forward” to the next generation; the lettering go of formal school skills vs. the embrace of a new, collaborative, public way of learning; the desire to accomplish something with the few years left vs. the realistic acceptance that success come slowly, through failure; etc.
It’s an interesting assessment; though I’m not a Third Chapter denizen yet, I found some degree of inspiration and optimism from the case studies (retirees going to work in war zones, public gardens, throwing themselves into new fields like piano and acting). I have some minor cavils, such as repeated misspellings (“peak” for “peek” – not a huge deal, but in an academic work like this, these errors erode the author’s credibility). And although Lawrence-Lightfoot’s authorial voice is warm and sincere, the prose is rather turgid and prolix the way such academic essays tend to be: the introduction which repeats main points given in the chapter, the conclusion which re-repeats those points; the tendency to paraphrase and quote someone (“he feels fortunate (‘truly blessed’)”… - why both?). My major objections to the argument, however, are that (a) it uses a small sample of privileged people to make generalizations about reengagement at this stage of life – which the author acknowledges; (b) it ends by advocating a massive overhaul of our cultural mores and assumptions about the elderly, our education system, and inter-generational collaboration – which is not helpful for those wishing a practical guide to reengagement; and (c) I wonder if this “new way of learning” isn’t particular to the Third Chapter, or any age group, but anyone going through any transition, really.
three stars
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
The Ten Faces of Innovation: IDEO's Strategies for Defeating the Devil's Advocate and Driving Creativity Throughout Your Organization
by Thomas Kelley
The author, general manager of the design firm IDEO, explains ten roles employees can fill to help companies create and innovate. The roles are Anthropologist (sees everyday life as a source for new ideas); Experimenter (celebrates the prototype process); Cross-Pollinator (uses a wide breadth of learning to improve their main field); Hurdler (turn constraints into opportunity); Collaborator (leads cross-functioning teams where players exchange roles); Director (puts together teams with good chemistry); Experience Architect (creates positive encounters with product by engaging senses); Set Designer (creates spaces for projects); Caregiver (makes consumers’ process more fun and personal); and Storyteller (triggers emotion by making experiences authentic). Whew!
This was an easy work read, written in a pleasant style that forgoes the usual talking-down tone of business books. I’m always wary of these business-help books that name “the” seven whatchamacallits of leadership or the fifteen boondoggles of customer service or so on. Of course, Kelley does point out that these ten “faces” are roles, not individuals, and that roles can overlap within people or groups (just as you can be a father, husband, engineer, kayaker, etc., so too one might add on Experimenter and Collaborator onto that list). But very often as I read page after page of anecdotes about this or that company surging in market share, I found myself wondering what precisely the “roles” had to do with it. Kelley argues for power naps at work to recharge, which is fine – but what’s The Director got to do with it? As with most books of this ilk, this is a lot of good advice (names matter; find out what the customer really needs, not what he says he needs; face time is better than email) packaged with a simple-sounding hook (just ten things to learn?!).
three stars
The author, general manager of the design firm IDEO, explains ten roles employees can fill to help companies create and innovate. The roles are Anthropologist (sees everyday life as a source for new ideas); Experimenter (celebrates the prototype process); Cross-Pollinator (uses a wide breadth of learning to improve their main field); Hurdler (turn constraints into opportunity); Collaborator (leads cross-functioning teams where players exchange roles); Director (puts together teams with good chemistry); Experience Architect (creates positive encounters with product by engaging senses); Set Designer (creates spaces for projects); Caregiver (makes consumers’ process more fun and personal); and Storyteller (triggers emotion by making experiences authentic). Whew!
This was an easy work read, written in a pleasant style that forgoes the usual talking-down tone of business books. I’m always wary of these business-help books that name “the” seven whatchamacallits of leadership or the fifteen boondoggles of customer service or so on. Of course, Kelley does point out that these ten “faces” are roles, not individuals, and that roles can overlap within people or groups (just as you can be a father, husband, engineer, kayaker, etc., so too one might add on Experimenter and Collaborator onto that list). But very often as I read page after page of anecdotes about this or that company surging in market share, I found myself wondering what precisely the “roles” had to do with it. Kelley argues for power naps at work to recharge, which is fine – but what’s The Director got to do with it? As with most books of this ilk, this is a lot of good advice (names matter; find out what the customer really needs, not what he says he needs; face time is better than email) packaged with a simple-sounding hook (just ten things to learn?!).
three stars
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Mindset: The New Psychology of Success
by Carol S. Dweck
The author, a social psychologist, divides people into two types. One has a fixed mindset and so believes that intelligence and personality are fixed traits that cannot change. It follows from this view that effort is to be avoided, because if you need to try you must not have talent; that setbacks reflect personally on you (transference of action to individual); that you blame others or yourself for setbacks; and esteem is garnered through the deprecation of others. The second group is the growth mindset, which believes that intelligence and other traits can be improved on; that success comes through effort; that high standards are a challenge; that flaws should be admitted and faced; that praise should focus on effort, not ability; and that setbacks are not personal. She then applies this mindset theory to show how to deal best with school, teaching, parenting, relationships, and business.
Dweck writes in a readable, conversational style with lots of real-world examples and citations from her personal research. There’s nothing earth-shatteringly revelatory here, but it’s genuine; as someone who was praised ad nauseam for my intelligence as a child, I have seen many of these results first hand. Overall it’s a well-reasoned and persuasive book. Unlike a lot of self-help authors, Dweck writes honestly about the lack of quick fixes and the struggle it takes to change into a healthy growth mindset, and gives clear tips on how to do so. This is no pie in the sky psycho-babble; it’s an easy read with powerful, practical advice.
four stars
The author, a social psychologist, divides people into two types. One has a fixed mindset and so believes that intelligence and personality are fixed traits that cannot change. It follows from this view that effort is to be avoided, because if you need to try you must not have talent; that setbacks reflect personally on you (transference of action to individual); that you blame others or yourself for setbacks; and esteem is garnered through the deprecation of others. The second group is the growth mindset, which believes that intelligence and other traits can be improved on; that success comes through effort; that high standards are a challenge; that flaws should be admitted and faced; that praise should focus on effort, not ability; and that setbacks are not personal. She then applies this mindset theory to show how to deal best with school, teaching, parenting, relationships, and business.
Dweck writes in a readable, conversational style with lots of real-world examples and citations from her personal research. There’s nothing earth-shatteringly revelatory here, but it’s genuine; as someone who was praised ad nauseam for my intelligence as a child, I have seen many of these results first hand. Overall it’s a well-reasoned and persuasive book. Unlike a lot of self-help authors, Dweck writes honestly about the lack of quick fixes and the struggle it takes to change into a healthy growth mindset, and gives clear tips on how to do so. This is no pie in the sky psycho-babble; it’s an easy read with powerful, practical advice.
four stars
Monday, October 5, 2009
Good to Great: Why Some Companies Make the Leap...And Others Don't
by Jim Collins
I decided to read the main book after I admired the ideas in Good to Great and the Social Sectors: A Monograph to Accompany Good to Great. I don’t need to go into the points I adumbrated with that addendum to this book, but I found a few new concepts that hit home.
One, in discussing Level 5 leadership, Collins emphasizes a humble figure: one that needs the brutal truth, doesn’t rely on charisma, looks toward the future of the company and not his own, attributes success to good luck, and so on. This is a concept that a lot of money-conscious type-A executives might not enjoy hearing. Two, high compensation doesn’t correlate with good performance. High compensation can attract and keep the right people, but it can’t motivate the wrong people. Three, the great companies don’t jump feet first into changes of direction. Poor companies are always jumping from one quick fix to another; the best companies take it slowly and crawl before they run. And they never jump on any bandwagon that doesn’t fit their Key Concept. Four, great leaders don’t waste time trying to ‘rally the troops” or even manage performance. That’s because they get the right people, the motivated people, first, and stand back to let them work. The book is filled with such hard sensible dicta, backed by real evidence, that put a harsh spotlight on places that I’ve worked that most definitely were not great. It’s a very useful, well-written, convincing and important book.
four stars
I decided to read the main book after I admired the ideas in Good to Great and the Social Sectors: A Monograph to Accompany Good to Great. I don’t need to go into the points I adumbrated with that addendum to this book, but I found a few new concepts that hit home.
One, in discussing Level 5 leadership, Collins emphasizes a humble figure: one that needs the brutal truth, doesn’t rely on charisma, looks toward the future of the company and not his own, attributes success to good luck, and so on. This is a concept that a lot of money-conscious type-A executives might not enjoy hearing. Two, high compensation doesn’t correlate with good performance. High compensation can attract and keep the right people, but it can’t motivate the wrong people. Three, the great companies don’t jump feet first into changes of direction. Poor companies are always jumping from one quick fix to another; the best companies take it slowly and crawl before they run. And they never jump on any bandwagon that doesn’t fit their Key Concept. Four, great leaders don’t waste time trying to ‘rally the troops” or even manage performance. That’s because they get the right people, the motivated people, first, and stand back to let them work. The book is filled with such hard sensible dicta, backed by real evidence, that put a harsh spotlight on places that I’ve worked that most definitely were not great. It’s a very useful, well-written, convincing and important book.
four stars
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Leadership Is an Art
by Max DePree
The author, former CEO and chairman of the board of directors at furniture maker Herman Miller, shares his viewpoint on leadership. It’s an idealistic account of what companies can be when leaders are open and understanding. One of his main ideas is that leaders owe a great deal to the companies they lead: they need to provide a statement of values, space for employees to grow, a vision for present and future, momentum (“a debt to the future”), and effectiveness, among other things.
De Pree defines effectiveness as “doing the right thing” as opposed to just doing the thing right. He also sets a high premium on Roving Leadership (the ability of others to lead temporarily when their unique talents call for it), and participative management (encouraging others to have a say, fostering a culture of respect for diversity of talents, the importance of covenants – an understanding that work has value and meaning – as opposed to impersonal contracts). In sum, he rejects “the dry rules of business school” and pushes liberation over control, ritual and storytelling, trust over hierarchy, people over structures, civility over rules, and wisdom over manuals. It’s an impressive philosophy, and I’m astonished to see it so closely adhere to that of my current workplace (I was asked to read this for work). Knowing what the alternative could be makes me even more gratified and amazed that such places do exist.
three stars
The author, former CEO and chairman of the board of directors at furniture maker Herman Miller, shares his viewpoint on leadership. It’s an idealistic account of what companies can be when leaders are open and understanding. One of his main ideas is that leaders owe a great deal to the companies they lead: they need to provide a statement of values, space for employees to grow, a vision for present and future, momentum (“a debt to the future”), and effectiveness, among other things.
De Pree defines effectiveness as “doing the right thing” as opposed to just doing the thing right. He also sets a high premium on Roving Leadership (the ability of others to lead temporarily when their unique talents call for it), and participative management (encouraging others to have a say, fostering a culture of respect for diversity of talents, the importance of covenants – an understanding that work has value and meaning – as opposed to impersonal contracts). In sum, he rejects “the dry rules of business school” and pushes liberation over control, ritual and storytelling, trust over hierarchy, people over structures, civility over rules, and wisdom over manuals. It’s an impressive philosophy, and I’m astonished to see it so closely adhere to that of my current workplace (I was asked to read this for work). Knowing what the alternative could be makes me even more gratified and amazed that such places do exist.
three stars
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Fish! Tales: Real Life Stories To Help You Transform Your Workplace And Your Life
by Stephen C. Lunden, Harry Paul, and John Christensen
A self-help book for ailing companies that I read for work. Told as a rather sappy parable in an irritatingly simplistic manner, its message is composed of four parts. One, Choose Your Attitude: even if your career choices are sometimes limited, one can decide to act “world famous” rather than complain. Two, Make Their Day: do something to catch customers’ (or co-workers’) attention and give them something to remember. Three, Be Present: pay attention and act like it. Four, Play: have some fun at work. All of which boils down to: stop complaining and actually do your job. As usual with books intended for managerial types, there’s a few grains of inspiration here wrapped up in an insult to someone with intelligence.
A self-help book for ailing companies that I read for work. Told as a rather sappy parable in an irritatingly simplistic manner, its message is composed of four parts. One, Choose Your Attitude: even if your career choices are sometimes limited, one can decide to act “world famous” rather than complain. Two, Make Their Day: do something to catch customers’ (or co-workers’) attention and give them something to remember. Three, Be Present: pay attention and act like it. Four, Play: have some fun at work. All of which boils down to: stop complaining and actually do your job. As usual with books intended for managerial types, there’s a few grains of inspiration here wrapped up in an insult to someone with intelligence.
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