Success sells – but is there any substance behind it?

When the New York Times released Trump’s taxes and dire financial losses over decades, the public outcry lay somewhere between “finally, proof for all these lies!” and – rather worryingly – “who cares?”

The latter reaction is worrying, because it reflects what we have become used to. The norm is now to read about multi-billion dollar IPOs that are issued even when companies are making millions in losses. CEOs claim multi-million dollar pay packages even when revenues don’t add up, thousands of staff are laid off, and the rest get paid less than minimum wages. But everyone still wants to join these companies or see them as savvy, because of the allure of success and shine.

As long as it looks like success, or is claimed to be a success, many of us are willing to believe it’s worth something – or buy into the sales pitch that it will become hugely successful later. “Success is what sells”, as Andy Warhol put it. This phenomenon has not only driven art prizes into the sky for decades, but is also how social media frequently works (just try buying a five thousand followers and see how many more you attract).

Success camouflaging is not just a corporate problem

This “success camouflage” (or perhaps it’s just outright exploitation or deception?) is not just limited to the corporate sector. Governments are selling every single change in trade or economic deals as a win to their citizens in the hope that they will be re-elected, even in situations such as Brexit where there are only losers on both sides.

And in the international development sector, every contribution – even if pitiful compared to needs and absolutely disproportionate to available budgets – is trumpeted as transformational (perhaps in the hope that this will attract even more funds). We just need to look at what (little) has been mobilised in terms of funds and equipment for low- and middle-income countries during Covid19, and how this has been communicated as phenomenal.

Something is not adding up.

Fake it, perhaps make it

Every person probably accepts that if you’d see everything at face value and as it really is, you’d rarely support anything, buy anything, recruit anyone, or even fall in love with anyone. It’s rational human behaviour to emphasise strengths, and sweep some weaknesses under the rug in the hope that no-one notices them (at least not when it’s decision-making time).

In slogan terms, you fake it, and hope you’ll convince others enough so that you make it.

But how much under-the-rug-hiding is acceptable? And when is what we show only blatant lies, or so out of balance with what has been swept under the rug that it no longer reflects reality in any way – a la Trump?

When, for example, is an organisation that sells its mission and values as something that is so contradictory to what happens in practice undermining what is was founded for? (But still recruiting staff based on empty promises.)

When does a product or an initiative that has immense ambitions fail because it continues to live only in a world of plans and unrealistic hopes?

I will change – nothing?

No-one likes admitting failure. Instead of missing targets, most people rather set the bar lower, or hope that through some creative new wording, no-one will remember what the original targets were.

This seems to be quite a common phenomenon in international development. The targets are so incredibly ambitious (e.g. end poverty, end preventable deaths), and so complex and heavy to achieve that most progress is incremental at best.

Perhaps the targets have always been unrealistic, and the strategy has always been to have a stretch goal – and anything in the right direction is a success. This is the position of many “optimists” (impatient or patient) in the development sector.

But what happens if the progress is too small or slow to justify the investments and capacity used? What if absolutely nothing changed, except that funds were raised, fundraising and communication capacity was increased, advocacy groups were founded, and movements were created?

Is this still a success? Is nothing or just a bit above nothing enough?

All imposters?

Most people in the world are not evil. If they were, the world would fairly quickly come to and end. Most people are not Trumps or exploitative CEOs. Most people are also not imposters, even if some under-the-rug sweeping is normal for everyone.

But an increasing amount of people and organisations currently accept that it’s fine to live and work while claiming to be able to do something that one can’t do, or isn’t doing. Just think of what we are all saying about climate change, and how little we have changed our life in response.

Part of this problem is caused by our society’s way of rewarding only success. No-one wants to invest into failure. And no-one wants to be seen as a or associated with failure. The consequence is that we focus primarily on the plan – not the action. We stretch results (yes, all those plastic straws we abolished from our lives!), rig the original targets, change our mandates, or use confusing communication in that hope that no-one understands what we are really saying.

What does this mean for the development sector?

Perhaps none of this really matters in the art sector, or even the corporate sector. You buy lemons, but if it makes everyone happy, who cares?

For governments and for the development sector, the situation is more dire. You either protect your citizens and save the planet, or you don’t. You either save a life, or a million, or you don’t. These are life-and-death questions, and require realistic responses.

One question international development organisations need to ask themselves (yes, that means every single staff member), and donors who fund them and board members who oversee them, is what success they should be measured on, and what they should be held accountable for? If the answer is a glossy report full of successes, but no substance in lives or planet saved, we have a serious problem.

Power, donor and board responsibility

Ultimately, those who are supposed to have oversight should be held accountable for whether targets have been achieved. If not, why was nothing undertaken? Why did funds continue to flow? Did anyone properly question success claims, scratch the glossy surface?

Nearly every organisation will respond that the problem was that they lacked sufficient funds and capacity. More donors, more money, more staff is the solution.

But just look at our international development industry. This can’t be the correct answer in each and every case, it simply doesn’t add up.

Is anyone taking a look under the carpet? Or are donors and board members sitting on so many different boards that they’ve given up even trying to keep oversight?

Everyone’s responsibility

If donors and board members are unwilling or overwhelmed in their oversight functions, perhaps it is the responsibility of recipients of funds or staff working at the organisations to start cleaning up. Question things. Ask questions. Express concerns. Point out false claims.

If we don’t, we won’t deliver. We won’t address challenges. We’ll lose sight of reality, and focus all of our energy only on creating the illusion of success. We won’t save lives, or as many lives as we can. We won’t save our planet.

And when we look into the mirror each day, can we really say we are so different from Trump? Are we just selling success with no substance?

What makes a good partnership – and time for some thanks

I’m one of those lucky people living in a country (Germany) where Covid19 infections have been at manageable levels thanks to an early, determined response by political leadership, solid public health policy, and a strong health system. I’m also one of those lucky people who can now travel again without restrictions, and will be able to see my parents in Finland after several months. I hope I’ll see some Northern Lights too.

Before I go on a short offline break, I wanted to take time to say thank you. To all of you who have been following this blog, and sending me thoughts, encouragement and feedback. To those of you who have shared some similar experiences and thoughts in private, because you are not in a position to do so in public. To those of you who have spoken out, and been able to use your voice publicly. And to those of you who give me hope that there is compassion, kindness – combined with a sincere determination to have impact – out there in our sector and beyond.

I have been thinking about many things over the past months, and what has energised me most in my work over these past years. Alongside our mission, it has been the people and partners I have been privileged to work with. All the heavy lifts, long hours, and crazily ambitious successes have only been thanks to teamwork, and to working in partnership across organisations.

For years, I have kept going back to this quote by Helen Keller (the first deaf-blind person to earn a university degree, and who achieved incredible things despite her challenges, but also thanks to so many people who supported and believed in her):

For me, it does not exclude the power of individual agency, influence, importance or value (I also love all aspirational quotes such as “If not you, then who? If not now, then when?”, “To the world you may be one person. But to one person you may be the world.”, or especially important in our current times “Every vote counts.”). But there’s something in the quote by Keller that highlights how I think we can get our work done best, and how we (in the development sector and global health) can have most impact.

But what does “together” mean? Partnerships seem to be all the rage in our sector, and every organisation lists “our partners” on their website. In response to any prodding questions about collaboration with other organisations (also by donors), spokespersons or leaders speak about “important partners” and “great collaboration”.

On the one hand, it’s great that partnerships are getting the attention they need. The days of communicating successes unilaterally (in the worst case not even acknowledging the agency of people, countries or organisations who have done most of the financing, advocacy and implementation) seem to be over. Organisations are increasingly looking into how to leverage new expertise, support and funding. There are some first steps to be more inclusive, engage people, patients or beneficiaries, and focus on diversity. This is a hugely important opportunity.

However, on the other hand, the number of organisational logos that are listed together for events and even on websites often lack substance, but are sold as “partnerships”. Taken to the extreme, some formalised partnerships or partnership processes simply exist because others are involved too, and it seems to be what is expected. There are partnerships where neither partner knows (or cares to know) much about the other, there are no regular relationships, no trust – and there is no common goal, not to mention a pathway to achieving more impact.

Partnerships should be relationships that are – just as in the private lives of individuals – entered willingly, with mutual agreement, and handled with mutual respect. In the development sector, where most funds come from taxpayers’ money, or private donations, partnerships should be worthwhile investments that drive more impact and further organisational missions. Exploring and identifying opportunities, and building relationships and concrete partnership plans takes time, but it would undermine organisational and our entire sector’s credibility if all these partnership processes would be hollow and lead nowhere. In the worst case, partnerships are used in name to instrumentalise power relationships.

I’ve been incredibly lucky to work with great partners throughout these years, and build trusted relationships that have clear common goals. Some of the colleagues whom I have worked with in this process have been the greatest professional but also personal support, and many have stayed on as trusted friends.

So to all of you, partners, colleagues, kind strangers and friends: thank you. I’ll be back after a short break, and hopefully a real photo of the Northern Lights.

Middle Management Meaninglessness? What role do women play?

As part of my transition period, I have been reading lots of books, journal articles, and talking to inspiring people. I have also been catching up on old TED talks. I’ll here mention two recent talks I watched, which made me wonder about what value middle managers play, and particularly what this means for women.

I have for quite a few years been wondering why we are expected to sit in an office (usually quite an ugly one) all day long. As a colleague whom I spoke to recently pointed out, we often have a long commute to the office, so that we can respond to emails all day long, and then commute back home. Alternatively, we commute to the office and get pulled into meeting mayhem, while desperately struggling to respond to those emails (during meetings, in between, or in our free morning or late evening hours). There’s very little real human interaction, and definitely very little space for creative engagement, strategic planning, and – as Jason Fried points out in this funny TED talk – actual work.

As a manager in roles where I have had more freedom, I have tried to encourage my staff to work where they feel they do this best. The same goes for meetings. It can be at home, in a park, at a coffee shop, in the library, in a train, while visiting parents – I don’t honestly care where. Human interaction is nice, and is important to build trust, but who on earth needs to do this nine hours each day, and for every single meeting? Quality, not quantity, counts. Except…

Except when you are a manager who has difficulties trusting your staff. Or have forgotten that digital means – or even the old-fashioned telephone – means you can reach people no matter where they are. Or if you constantly need your staff to help you with your thinking, and perhaps to do your job. Or you lose sight of deliverables (perhaps you haven’t tasked or agreed on any, because you are so obsessed with presence value being equal to work?), and have images of staff slacking off, having fun coffees, colluding against you, and abusing their freedoms.

I once had a fabulous boss who allowed staff to work fully flexibly, even though there was a physical office and enough space for everyone. I mentioned to her that I’ve rarely seen leadership who trusts their staff so much. She responded that 80% get their work done no matter what, 10% slightly abuse the situation (i.e. do not always deliver as much or on time), and 10% overcompensate because they are motivated and perhaps grateful – it adds up to the same, but in total everyone is more motivated and happier.

In many organizations, middle managers and leaders get promoted from the ranks. Very few have management experience, and management skills are rarely a criteria for getting the job. Rather, promotions are either based on time (who’s been around and is next in line), or successes in past work (very little of which includes management skills). To be frank, this has happened to be too: I have joined organizations in a specific function, and have then been promoted to lead teams. I have become that middle manager who needs to manage staff, and has been expected to organize meetings…

Although managing teams, and seeing staff grow and flourish, has been one of the most rewarding aspects of my work, I’ve also suffered from middle management meaninglessness. What is it that I actually do? What is my actual work? I’ve been lucky to work with some fabulous staff, and to have recruited several as well. They have quickly become great at what they do, and have had strong self-organization skills. I’ve helped them define their ambitions better, aim for growth, and shown where I think they need to improve if they want to succeed. I’ve taught them what I know about time management, prioritization, and planning. I’ve tried to make their case or showcase their work in the broader organization, and provided evaluations and references where helpful.

But ultimately, I’ve ended up explicitly stating that at some point, they are more than ready to fly without me. In some of the organizations where I have worked, they have, and I am incredibly proud to keep following what they are achieving. Honestly, they would have soared high without my engagement, although perhaps some benefited from my encouragement.

Middle managers often feel removed from the actual mission of an organization. Whereas leadership decides (or should decide) a strategic direction, and staff carry out the work to get there, middle managers – well – manage. Some of these positions are important when leadership doesn’t have capacity to connect with all staff to get timely feedback on what’s working and what not (are we actually getting to where we need to, or have we stalled or are going in a different direction in reality?). Or when staff needs a lot of handholding in their work. Where both internal communication and staff are strong, middle management may not be necessary, and they may actually be a hinderance. This seems to be the conclusion of the above TED talk.

Let’s for a moment assume you work in an organization where middle management makes sense and offers some value. You may have also found a good culture and balance between oversight and flexibility, based on trust. As a middle manager, you may even have time to do some work that inspires you, and connects you to what motivated you as staff (or motivates other staff), or supports leadership set a strategic course. Then what?

Another TED talk I watched by Susan Colantuono addresses the question why so few women make it to leadership positions. She points out that there are actually many women leaders – in middle management – very few make it to the top, though. In addition to factors such as norms or care-taking roles, which she does not address, she brings in an interesting variable: strategic or business acumen. Her theory is that whereas women are mentored to make the jump from staff to middle management (network, take on responsibilities for other staff, etc.), they are not mentored to make the next jump to leadership. They train in time, people and project management – functions that are really important for middle management – but are not encouraged to think about strategy, where the organization or business is positioned vis-a-vis the entire market, and what it needs not only to become good, but to succeed externally.

Many women middle managers who I have seen crave to go back to their staff functions (albeit not the power or pay), they miss the “real work” or meaning. I’ve often felt that pull myself. But I’ve also seen the need to think big picture, and work on a strategy how to get to an end goal. It definitely isn’t by organizing more meetings, and making sure staff is even more present and available!

As we in many countries are moving out of Covid19 shutdown, and many organizations are starting to consider how staff should return to offices, I’d encourage everyone to watch some of these (admittedly pre-Zoom) talks. What are we really trying to achieve? And do we really need so many meetings, and middle managers, to get this job done?