The glimpse

The thing that gets people over the line isn’t how persuasive your argument is.  It’s certainly not because they see a big need in the world.

The thing that gets them over the line is passion.  Ultimately their passion, but before that happens they need to see your passion.  They need to glimpse something raw and unbridled and real.  A deep belief in what is possible.  Conviction.

In order for them to see that, they need to see you first, to understand who you are.  They need to be able to relate to your passion and have it mean something to them.  They need to appreciate that if you’re all fired up about something then it must be something worth getting fired up about.

The biggest mistake fundraisers typically make is to take themselves out of the story.  It’s a natural to try to step aside since what seems to be on offer is the story, or, worse, the need, and not the person telling the story.

Need is overwhelming and paralyzing to most people.  Need seems insurmountable.  We all are looking for real, grounded, plausible passion, possibility, potential and hope.  People begin to see that by seeing what you see, feeling what you feel.

If they don’t glimpse that in you, how are they ever going to feel it themselves?

In the know

There’s nothing better than turning your customers into insiders.  One way is to give them the sense that they’re in the know and they are sharing in a  special secret, even if it’s small and even if it’s only sort of secret.

For example, you can get some of the best brownies on the planet at Fatwitch bakery in Chelsea Market.  After 5PM they put up a tiny sign:

Unwrapped brownies sell for $1.50 after 5PM – that’s half price.  Everything else in the store – wrapped brownies, brownie mix, etc. – remains full price, and you have to pay close attention to notice the little sign.  Just the other day I was in there buying a couple of half priced brownies while three tourists bought 30 wrapped mini brownies for full price.

There’s no subterfuge going on here – anyone who orders a brownie at the counter gets charged $1.50 per scrumptious brownie.  Then again, the whole thing wouldn’t work on multiple levels if they had giant letters in storefront window saying “BROWNIES HALF OFF AFTER 5PM!!!”

Just a little something small, a tiny secret that keeps loyal customers coming back.

Shhhhh!

Constraints

My friend Tom Fisburne’s great cartoon about TV remote controls reminded me of this.

Imagine how much you could accomplish if you decided up front all the things you absolutely won’t do – the compromises you refuse to make, no matter what.

It’s the “no matter what” that’s the tricky part.

Above and beyond

No one’s going to tell you that now’s the moment.

 

You, online

Guess which online information about you affects peoples’ opinion of you?

Everything.

Every last photo that pops up (sure, on your Facebook page, but also your Twitter feed and even the picture of you on Skype).  Each snippet is a little piece of you.

Yes we’d love to hear from you every day through your blog, which you can set up in about three minutes.  And yes it’s a good thing to have some personality.

If that feels like too much, why not put up a homepage (like Frank’s or James’)?  You could spend one day (one day!) doing this and making it better than 99% of what’s out there.  If a properly hosted page seems like too much, how about an About.me profile.  And yes, you should be on LinkedIn too.

And since you have at least one friend who has a nice camera and likes to take pictures, ask her to take headshots of you on a simple white background and buy her dinner to thank her.  Heck, invite some friends over.  Best $50 you’ve ever spent (OK maybe more if drinks are involved).

You don’t have forever to stand out from the crowd, but right now it’s still pretty easy to distinguish yourself online.  What are you waiting for?

Hurry.

More than a dollar

It’s a myth that money is fungible.

Ok, not really.  Money itself is, strictly speaking, fungible, but that doesn’t mean all money is equal.  Who it comes from speaks volumes about your organization, its worldview, and what you stand for.

Some of the pieces of the equation are obvious: money with a lot of strings attached is worth less than unrestricted money.  Money that will take you off mission is money you shouldn’t take in the first place.

But it goes deeper than that.  A few weeks ago I was in Ghana – we opened our Acumen West Africa office earlier this year.  One of our top priorities from the outset has been to raise significant philanthropic funding from West Africans, and by far the most humbling part of the trip was the chance to spend time with the three Ghanaian Acumen Partners who have already stepped up significantly to support our work.  Theirs is not just a vote of confidence from some of the most amazing business leaders in the country.  It also creates a completely different level of accountability, a completely different conversation what we mean when we talk about “our” work in West Africa.   It is truly ours, it is truly shared.

Recently, the UK government made headlines when it announced that it would stop giving aid to India after 2015.  In our lifetimes, the bright lines around which countries are rich and which are poor will fade.  By 2025 India could easily have 500 million people in its middle class and 500 million people in poverty.  Brazil’s GDP per capita could easily pass the $15,000 mark with 10 million or more people living in urban slums.

The time to start cultivating a truly global corps of philanthropists, philanthropists who support both local and global causes, is now.    There’s no doubt that today it is easier and cheaper for your organization to raise a dollar in New York or San Francisco or London than it is to raise it in Mumbai, Lagos or São Paulo.  But if you keep doing that, you’ll miss the boat.

Remember, all money isn’t equal.

Full and hopeful conviction

One of the great nuggets – that I’d otherwise have lost had it not been for the visual notes I took – from the Adaptive Leadership piece in HBR that I talked about yesterday is about how to run experiments in adaptive settings.

Since adaptive challenges have unknown solutions, by definition we must make adaptive leadership decisions with incomplete information.  Even better, often the biggest breakthroughs come from holding two seemingly opposable ideas, goals, even values at the same time and trying to meet two seemingly incompatible needs.

In these adaptive situations, our only choice is to run experiments – to make a decision based on the information we have, with a clear statement of our hypothesis and an articulation of what data we will use to determine if the experiment is working.  (Very Lean Startup-y, in a very different context, which is always nice to see).

The soft underbelly of these situations isn’t WHETHER to run experiments (we have no choice) it’s HOW we run these experiments.

It’s all too tempting to view these tough calls at 51-49 situations, to continue to see all sides of the argument even after you’ve started running the experiment.  This is even more tempting in situations in which you disagreed with a decision – it’s so alluring to talk about the path not taken, to keep on hedging your bets just in case this path doesn’t work out.  Think how smart you’ll look if you have an “I told you so” moment three months from now.

Here’s another way to look at it, from the Adaptive Leadership piece:

Holding incompatible ideas in your head at the same time is a little like deciding to get married. At the moment you decide that this is the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, you have to fully embrace your choice; you have to believe wholeheartedly that it is the right decision. But your practical self also knows that you probably would have fallen in love with someone else under different circumstances. So how can your intended be the only “right” one for you? If you treated the decision to marry this particular person at this particular moment as a 51–49 question rather than a 90–10 question, you would never take the leap. The same paradox applies to adaptive leadership interventions. You have to run the experiment with full and hopeful conviction.

I’m much more of a romantic than that, so the analytical approach to the decision to get married just doesn’t sit right with me.  But that’s another conversation.

What I like is the memorable analogy and the great last sentence: “You have to run the experiment with full and hopeful conviction.”

Not doubt, not worry, not with side conversations about how this will never work or with hesitation or second guessing.

Full and hopeful conviction.

How do I learn?

Back in May I realized that Peter Drucker’s Managing Oneself was a cornerstone piece of writing that I need to reread annually.  Its simplicity of language belies a depth of clarity and analysis about what it takes to understand oneself and, from that strong foundation of self-knowledge, build a successful personal and professional life.  I’m grateful to my friend and colleague Ankur Shah for sending it to me.

While most of the topics Drucker covers about self-knowledge and taking feedback were topics I’d expected to see, I was pretty taken aback by the section titled “How Do I Learn?”  I’d just never given the questions he asks any thought.  An excerpt:

How do I learn? The second thing to know about how one performs is to know how one learns.   Many first-class writers – Winston Churchill is but one example – do poorly in school.  They tend to remember their schooling as pure torture.  Yet few of their classmates remember it the same way.  They may not have enjoyed the school very much, but the worst they suffered was boredom.  The explanation is that writers do not, as a rule, learn by listening and reading.  They learn by writing…

Some people learn by taking copious notes.  Beethoven, for example, left behind an enormous number of sketchbooks, yet he said he never actually looked at them when he composed.  Asked why he kept them, he is reported to have replied, ‘If I don’t write it down immediately, I forget right away.  If I put it into a sketchbook, I never forget it and I never have to look it up again.’  Some people learn by doing.  Others learn by hearing themselves talk…

Am I a reader or a listener? and How do I learn? are the first questions to ask…

I found this perplexing because I honestly had no idea if I was a reader or a listener.  I didn’t find school torture at all, I read like crazy, so it seemed like I had to be a reader.

But the more I sat with that answer the less right it felt.  My best insights come by talking things through with people.  It’s only through hands-on, digging in conversations that things become real to me, that I can imagine how a solution will interact with the real world – what will and won’t work, and what’s holding something back.  I’m a talker/listener.

And then I started to think about all the reading that I do – what do I make of that?  Specifically, I started thinking about how well I recall things.  There are a lot of people in my life who have incredible memories; my wife is one and I know I don’t hold onto information the way she does (wish I did).  As a stark reminder of this, last month, just before I threw out 15 feet worth of 10 year old business school cases, I flipped through a few of the binders and was humbled by how little I recalled of the more than 1,000 cases I’d read. (Existential crisis on the cost of business school left for another day)

If I’m a listener and a talker who loves reading, and if I read to push my thinking, then I have to do something about reading differently.  It occurred to me to make my reading a bit more like blogging, by forcing myself to process information by capturing it and writing it down.  My parameters were to make the notes as visual as possible, to keep it to a page, and to focus on big concepts.

I had my first go at this for another “must read and reread piece” last week – The Theory Behind the Practice: A Brief Introduction to the Adaptive Leadership Framework by Heifitz, Grashow and Linsky.

What I’ve learned so far from this is:

  1. The decision that something I’ve read is worth processing in this way is itself important
  2. The little drawings of people and all the visuals help a lot.  For example the person holding the flag is the “leit,” (source of the word “leadership”) who went out ahead of the army carrying the flag.  He was often killed.  Kind of impossible to forget the heat you take as a leader with that little drawing floating around in my head.
  3. For the way my mind works, all I need the notes for is prompts, so they can be brief.  That is, without the notes a year from now I’d only remember 25% of the big concepts in the piece (e.g. the difference between technical and adaptive leadership will stick either way), but the moment I see high-level prompts in my notes I’m transported back to the full concept.  No need for the notes to provide all of those details

Creating these notes was easy enough to do with a 31 page HBR article.  I suspect for a 250 page book it will take more doing, but I’m going to give it a go, because if I can’t boil it down what are the chance that it will affect my actions for more than a month or so?

What about you?  Do you know how you learn?  Once you’ve figured it out, what do you do differently?

Funny, actually

That I wrote a post titled “I hate being wrong” and then published it on the wrong day.

Downright ironic, really.

One thing I’ve noticed about the moment I discover I’m wrong:  my attention tends to narrow to the thing that is wrong so I can fix it, when often what is most needed in that moment is to broaden my perspective and focus on the bigger picture.  Not easy.

I hate being wrong

It’s true.  It drives me sort of nuts.

And yet I know that I need to be wrong a lot of the time if I’m going to get to right.  And not just to any “right” but to a right that’s new and better and different.

I bet I need to have less emotional reaction every time someone rightly points out that I’m wrong.