Coaching in Analogies #5: The experienced locksmith
One day, you come back from your morning run to discover you’ve locked your keys in your house. Assuming you don’t have a landlord nearby, or a lockbox or a neighbor with a spare key, you’re going to need some professional help. It’s time to call a locksmith.
Even leaving aside anything that could make this situation worse -- it’s raining, you have to pee, the dog is inside and also has to pee -- time is not really on your side here. You need someone who can show up and get the job done fast.
Experience matters. You’re not going to feel great about paying a locksmith at all because you made a mistake. But wouldn’t it feel better to pay someone who can turn the tumblers and open the door in a matter of a few seconds than it would if they took an hour or two? Wouldn’t you think the faster fix is the better deal?
And yet, doesn’t it seem like the world of full-time, salaried knowledge work values the two-hour locksmith instead of the 60-second one? I spend a lot of time talking to clients about time and attention management, and the expectations that the working world places on how they do both.
Stop me if any of these seems familiar:
I’ll get on top of my workload if I just work some more hours.
The more I work, the more I’ll advance the mission of my employer -- saving animals, providing clean water, making it possible for kids to go to school.
Working harder, or more, sets me apart from my colleagues.
One man’s opinion here, formed over a number of years: the “butts in seats” model is a lousy way to measure employee effectiveness.
This lesson first hit me about a decade and a half ago. The head of the organization where I worked seemed bothered by the fact that I was leaving at 5:30 every day -- the end of the business day, per the employee handbook. I was meeting my milestones and getting good reviews. And I was leaving “on time” to go to my second job, which I was doing in the early evenings because I wasn’t getting paid very much. The executive later apologized when he found out why I was leaving after only a full day’s work, though the organizational culture still continued to value extra hours and probably still does today.
Why do we do this? Once upon a time, the ideal was to outwork the boss. Let him -- and it was usually a him -- see your car in the parking lot when he arrives and also when he leaves. (More on workism and its roots in gender and class here.)
We’ve now had more than a year of a pandemic to teach us that for many jobs, success doesn’t rely on spending 8+ hours a day, 5+ days a week in a physical office anymore. In some parts of our economy, flexible hours and telework are now part of the draw away from organizations that are sticking with the old model. So we can add turnover risk to burnout and disengagement.
You can be an effective employee and still take your kid to the orthodontist, or get your washing machine fixed or take some time to be in your thoughts. In fact, doing these things will probably make you a more effective employee.
We’re human beings, not units of production. Working more doesn’t mean working better. As leaders, it’s on us to model this attitude for the people who look up to us -- and to hire people who are more like expert locksmiths than technicians on a time clock.
Coaching prompts:
When was the last time you took an actual day off? As in, you didn’t do any work or check in with work?
Which areas of your non-work life, if you paid them more attention, would actually make you a more effective employee or leader?
P.S. Having a lockbox with a key in it is a very handy thing. You can stash it somewhere out of the way, and use it if a guest, house-sitter or contractor needs to get in -- or if you do.