One of the greatest lessons I’ve ever learned is that there
is a huge difference between something that is simple and something that is
easy. Love thy neighbor is an amazingly simple concept. But when they park in
front of my house and I have to walk a block in the rain from my car to my door,
it’s not really easy to practice that love. The need to exercise daily is clear to anyone.
Lacing up the sneakers at 6am is one of the hardest things I can think of.
The same goes for some of the simple fixes I’ve recently
proposed for some of the structural flaws in social benefit efforts. If you’re just tuning in, I’ve been treating
these problems like a disease – in no small part because that is how they often
manifest. I’ve named this disease (only
partly in jest) the Nonprofit Martyrdom Syndrome (NMS for short). I’ve identified three main strains of this
virus (which are hereby also given pseudoscientific names):
- 1) Offering and accepting substandard pay rates (Magnus Laborus)
- 2) Accepting and excusing poor performance(Operarius Horibilus)
- 3) Making unreasonable demands on the time and devotion of your employees (Missio Super Omnes).
In each of these cases, the cures have been fairly simple,
and center around developing and implementing a basic system of performance
management where pay is based on performance, where goals and expectations are
developed collaboratively, and where pay is based on the market rather than what you think you can afford . Nice,
simple, clean solutions. Implementation? Maddening. But since I’m solutions
focused, here’s a thought on how to make is a little bit easier.
For over 25 years now, I’ve maintained a pretty regular
exercise habit. 3-4 times a week, I get
out and run around 3 miles or so (run being a generic name for something that
looks more like an old duck waddling). Three miles may sound like a lot to some of you, so you should know that I didn’t
just wake up one day and run. I still
remember when I first started to jog. There was a park across the street that
was exactly one block square. Once I made up my mind to start exercising, that
park became my goal setting device. The
first day, I walked once around the park. Then, I began to increase distance in
block lengths. Once around became one and a quarter, which became one and a
half and so on. Then, I would jog one length and walk one length, so the
routine was jog/walk/jog/walk to complete one lap of the block. Then it was two
segments jogging (Jog/Jog/Walk), then, three. One day, I was registered for a
5K run (3.1 miles for those of you who don’t have your metric conversions
memorized). And while I've run a number of distance events since then (including a full marathon, two half-marathons ad a dozen 10Ks); I still have to give myself a little push each time I get ready to go running.
The moral of the story comes in two parts –
first, break your goal down into little chunks. Second, remember that it will
get easier (ok, maybe less hard), but it will always be work.
So don’t think you need to just jump in and have that difficult
conversation with that troubling employee. Start with an easy conversation with
someone who you know is coachable, then work your way up to the problem child. Set a goal to close your pay gap by 5% rather
than trying to move right to a market rate pay scale. Start small, but for God’s
sake start.
Now there is still one more aspect of this disease that we’ll
get to next time. But for now, know that the cure is in your hands, and that
simple can be made easier if you start with achievable goals.
There’s a semi-famous running coach named John Bingham who
calls himself The Penguin (so named for
his running style, which is a lot like mine). He’s the champion of the back of
the pack runner like me. The title of
his book says it all – “The Courage to Start”. In his words, “waddle on my friends, waddle on”.
