Let’s take a look at where we are in the problem-solving process. Myra, an employee who works for you, failed to complete an important quality check. You observed the gap, decided to deal with it, and tried to determine the right problem to discuss. Since this was the first infraction, you’ve decided to talk about the content: she didn’t complete the quality check. You admire Myra, and so it is easy to impute good motive. Now you describe the gap. After your brief and effective problem description, Myra responds.
The way Myra responds to your description of the gap will determine what you do next. She determines your path, not you. You’ll learn where you’re going by diagnosing the underlying cause of the problem. Is it a matter of motivation, ability, or both? If Myra says, “I couldn’t do the procedure you asked for,” you’ll need to figure out why. Which of the three ability forces is coming into play? If Myra replies, “Come on. What’s the big deal? It’s a stupid little quality check. I don’t really have to do it, do I?” you’re staring at a motivation problem. Which of the motivational forces is at work here?
Knowing how to bring to the surface and resolve all the underlying causes requires a great deal of skill. If you miss a single ability barrier, the other person won’t be able to cooperate. If you misinterpret the underlying motivational block, you’ll be pushing the wrong buttons. You’ll also have to choke back the desire to pull out the big guns to motivate (it’s so fast and easy) or pull out your big ideas to enable (it’s so fast and easy). Both methods are tempting, and both will be wrong.
We begin our journey into the land of multiple causes with a warning: it’s about to get complicated. We also offer a promise: if you follow the best practices of those who routinely step up to accountability discussions and handle them well, you too will succeed.
After hemming and hawing for a few seconds, Myra explains that she really didn’t want to do the job and asks, “What’s the big deal? Is it really worth the effort?” From this particular response, we’ll conclude that she’s not motivated. Other signs that a person isn’t motivated include the following: “I had more important things to do.” “It wasn’t my idea to switch jobs.” “If you think I’m going to work on something that isn’t on my performance review, you’re wrong.” All point to underlying motive. All imply “I chose not to do it.”
How do we make it motivating for Myra? How do you reach into other people’s psyches regardless of their power or position or, better still, regardless of your power or position and motivate them to do what they promised to do?
Hint: Your power doesn’t matter all that much. In fact, in many cases the more you think you need power to influence others’ motivation, the less likely you are to do it well. Stick with us, and you’ll see why.
When someone lets you down and does so willfully and with full knowledge of what he or she is doing, you want to deal with the selfish blighter. For instance, remember what your high school boyfriend once did to you? He didn’t forget to pick you up for your prom date, nor did he come down with a debilitating disease. He simply changed his mind at the last minute. And then, guess what? He said nothing to you, roared by your house in his candy-apple-red Mustang, and then whooped it up with the little hussy who moved in from California while you sat on your front porch clutching a wilted boutonniere.
When it comes to motivating others, these are the thoughtless curs we have in mind. We think of people who have purposely violated a promise and as a result have given us a figurative kick in the gut. Do you know why they cause us grief? Because they don’t care. They don’t share our wants and needs. They don’t walk in our moccasins. When you think about it, isn’t that what life comes down to? If we could find a way to get our friends, our family, our coworkers, and especially our boss to climb into our heads, share our dreams, and want what we want, wouldn’t life be one great big chocolate croissant?
Motivation with a Capital M
When others willfully break a promise, particularly when they cause us loads of grief, we want so desperately to motivate the guilty parties that the whole concept of motivation takes on mythical proportions. We think of motivation with a capital M: arm-flailing speeches echoing through a coliseum with the crowd cheering. Or perhaps we envision motivation as the raw use of power delivered in a satisfying and vengeful strike to the ego. Or maybe we think of it as a tool bag chock-full of clever techniques, just underhanded enough to trick people into compliance but sincere-looking enough to maintain a patina of professionalism. And on a good day, maybe our best day, we think of motivation as the ever-popular “art of getting people to do what you want them to do because they want to do it.”
Of course, none of these views is particularly helpful. All lead to behaviors that eventually get us into trouble. Even the last cloyingly patronizing statement — we think it’s our job to get people to want what we want — is fraught with problems. It works only if we’re omniscient (what we want is always right).
At the heart of our twisted view of how to motivate others lies an accumulation of outdated methods and tortured thoughts, one piled upon another. We come to believe that good leaders propel people to action by blending two parts charisma, one part chutzpah, and a healthy dash of fear into a perfect motivational cocktail. And we’re wrong.
With time and constant exposure to these unhealthy influence theories, here’s what eventually happens to our thinking.
What’s with Those Kids?
The apartment you live in comes with a reserved parking space conveniently located right in front of the building’s entrance. Unfortunately, the tenants in the apartment above you have three — count them, three — teenage children, each with a car. They appear to take joy in parking in your place. Each time they compel you to station your vehicle blocks away, you’re forced to schlepp yourself over hill and dale through an unrelenting Seattle-style drizzle while you make a mental note to send a generous donation to the National Association to Outlaw Teenagers.
You once talked to both the parents and the adolescents about the problem. You were on your best behavior. You spared no charm, plucked the old heartstrings, and sure enough, they expressed their deepest and most sincere sorrow. It was rather touching. They then respected your parking spot for a full 12 hours, after which they continued with their old tricks. Apparently they were sorry you spoke to them, not sorry that they were causing you problems.
At this point you’re fully aware of your options. You know that if you threaten your neighbors, they might come around. But you don’t want to be that kind of person. You’re bigger than that. So you back off, buy a larger umbrella, and take satisfaction in the knowledge that although you may be drenched and aching, you have not yet mutated into that crotchety old curmudgeon you vowed never to become. Just because you despise these cretins, it doesn’t mean you need to be unpleasant about it.
This kind of thinking leads to a false dichotomy. You believe that when it gets right down to it, you must either put up with the current problem or motivate the kids through power and threats; those are the only two options. (Once again, our math is messed up.) And since you don’t want to become threatening and abusive, your monklike vow of silence isn’t a sellout; it’s the moral thing to do.