I recently attended a “management skills summit.” This is the kind of seminar where you spend several hundred dollars to have a complete stranger tell you what a crappy manager you are and then you spend several thousand dollars on a series of self-help DVDs and webinars to improve your management skills. This proves not only that you’re a crappy manager but that you’re a crappy manager who can’t manage money.
Although I am not generally seduced by this type of training, this one offered a “management skills assessment” plus an “individual consultation with a management expert.” I never hesitated: Give me an assessment where the complexities of human behavior are reduced to a multiple choice quiz and I am there. Plus, I had a coupon.
I showed up at the seminar, took the assessment test and then waited for my individual consultation. When I was finally summoned, I hated the Management Expert on sight, mainly because he had a pocket square that matched his tie and he wore patterned socks. He was about 14 years old with perfect hair and shiny teeth and he smiled way too much. I doubt that he had ever managed anything more complex than his Outlook in-box.
The Expert looked at my assessment test and looked at me speculatively, taking in my flip-flops, my cargo shorts and my “good” polo shirt at a glance. He sighed, clearly girding himself to cast pearls before swine. “Is your management approach collaborative or cooperative?” he finally asked.
“I don’t know what that means,” I said. The Expert seemed taken aback. “I mean, what is your Management Style?”
I thought this was a foolish question. “I tell people what to do and they do it,” I said. The Expert nodded and, upside down, I saw him type “Old school” on his tablet.
“What do you do when your expectations are not met?” he asked next. This was an easy one since my expectations are never met. “Generally,” I said, “I finish the job myself while making snide remarks.” The Expert smiled a bit less. “Hierarchical” he typed, then added, “Patriarchal.” He thought for a minute. “Do you value objective input from your subordinates?” he asked.
This was obviously a trick question, because who does? But what I said was, “Of course.” I mentioned that just recently a subordinate offered me a candid critique of my 2016 marketing strategy and I thanked her sincerely. “But how did that make you feel?” he insisted and, in spite of myself, I mentioned that I pouted for three days and used that time to write her annual performance review. This so appalled the Expert that he forgot to type. He put his tablet down.
He looked at me quizzically. “If someone is performing poorly, how do you counsel them?” he asked.
“Counsel them?” I asked, confused.
“You know,” said the Expert. “Help them to improve their performance?”
I took the bait. “I use E-mail,” I said, “sometimes ‘Post-It’ notes.” The Expert actually winced. “Voice mail works well too,” I added reflectively, “but it’s a little too personal for my taste.”
The Expert stared at me, clearly appalled. “But I would never fire anyone by voicemail,” I clarified. That’s just wrong.” He nodded, speechless. “After all,” I said, “isn’t that why we have text messages?”
The Expert gulped. “You don’t fire people on FaceBook?” he asked acidly.
“Only once,” I said mildly. “It was the only way to get the guy’s attention. He never read his e-mail.”
By now the Expert’s smile was tight and forced — merely a shadow of what it once was; for the first time his lips covered his teeth. He cleard his throat for the last question. “How do you motivate your subordinates?” he asked, but by now I knew how this game was played.
“I praise them lavishly,” I said. “I give bonuses for showing up. I serve margaritas in the break room. I dot my I’s with smiley faces.”
The Expert nodded. “Now those areall good ideas,” he said. “It makes you seem almost human.” And then he fled.
The results of my management assessment were emailed to me later that week. “Your management style,” I read, “is passive aggressive with bipolar tendencies. You are a micromanager who is unable to delegate and overly values ‘yes-men.’ You are a high-functioning, non-violent psychopath with the motivational skills of Caligula.” The assessment ended with the suggestion that I take an on-line course in “Remedial Management” for $2500.00.
Incensed I took the email into the Operation Manager’s office and threw it on her desk. “Can you believe this?” I said. She read the letter and shook her head gravely.
“I can’t believe you spent good money on this,” she said. “I could have told you all this for free.”