Former BP boss: honest or clued out?

We are all aware that the BP oil spill off the Gulf coast has created one of the most significant environmental disasters in history.

The true impact on animal life and the broader environment—and to thousands of families and individuals—is incalculable.

Outgoing BP CEO Tony Hayward has made many public statements since the incident became public. Perhaps none has registered as poorly as the statement some weeks ago that he “just wanted to get his life back”.

Now, it’s often too easy to criticize those facing media/public scrutiny when they say something that may not have been the wisest thing to say. And it’s natural that a senior executive under duress would want his life to return to “normal”.

But from a communications perspective—and simply from a human compassion perspective—a CEO who makes millions of dollars a year working for a company that makes more money than most people can imagine generates little public sympathy under the best of circumstances.

It’s likely Hayward evoked little but disdain with his comment, given that so many helpless people were impacted terribly by his company’s failings. Not to mention the wildlife and the broader environmental impact which will be felt for years.

Just like professional athletes sometimes become disconnected from everyday people once they start to acquire wealth and fame, corporate executives have long been in a situation where they just don’t seem to “get it”. Their incomes, their stock options and absurd golden parachutes create, it seems, a lifestyle that too often makes them unconcerned with the welfare of others.

The philanthropic efforts of individuals such as Warren Buffet and Bill Gates should be not ignored, but many other business “leaders” fail the true responsibility test.

Many would put BP’s actions before and during the crisis in that category—and their outgoing boss’ comments, as well.

Umpire Joyce shows class after mistake

For a few days earlier in June, the baseball world was abuzz about the near-perfect game thrown by young Detroit Tiger pitcher Armando Galarraga.

Galarraga was indeed perfect for 8 and 2/3 innings. He had given up no hits, no walks. The Tigers had not made an error. 26 batters up. 26 consecutive outs.

Then, on what should have been the final play of the game, veteran umpire Jim Joyce missed a very close call at first base, costing the young hurler a rare achievement—and a touch of baseball immortality.

This type of “mistake”—an umpire missing a close play at one of the bases, happens relatively often. It usually leads to arguments and on occasion players and/or managers being tossed from the game. While umpires generally get it right, they can’t possibly be right all the time. But in most circumstances, the game doesn’t hinge on the one call, and the game goes on. There is no video replay in baseball for this type of play.

In this instance, baseball fans felt cheated because almost everyone loves these special moments in sports- records being broken or rare performances. But Joyce was so genuine in acknowledging his very human mistake immediately after the game—he called Galarraga to apologize, if I’m not mistaken—and spoke so candidly to reporters afterwards that he was “forgiven” by all concerned.

There were no excuses, no posturing. He saw the replay after the game, realized he got the call wrong, and felt badly that his judgment cost the young pitcher his moment of glory.

Ironically, but tellingly, Joyce was named the best umpire in baseball by a players poll that was released about two weeks after the “incident”. He clearly is a respected professional. And it may just be that he is considered the “best” not only because of his usually unerring judgment but because of the attitude he brings to work every day.

A lesson for everyone in sports, at all ages.

Can Sports Teach the Political World Anything?

After more than 30 years as a communications advisor, I’ve had the opportunity to work with many intriguing figures in the sports world.

Lessons from that world can be applied, I believe, to elected officials (whether they be, in Canada, backbench MP’s or Ministers-in-waiting) and those who advise them.

To provide some context, when I work with professional athletes, coaches (or with corporate leaders, for example) I always ask the same question: “How important is your own personal credibility to you?” To a person, everyone essentially answers, “It’s everything….the most important thing.”

But many in the sports world, specifically, react poorly in the media spotlight.

They either: 

• become overly sensitive
• play games with the media 
• don’t answer legitimate questions directly
• pick fights with particular reporters 
• can’t handle legitimate performance criticism  
• have public and overly emotional meltdowns 
• claim they were misquoted or taken out of context
• are numbingly bland

 In short, they engage in tactics that have the absolute opposite effect of building credibility with those who hear their words and view their actions.

I well understand the dilemma—in sports and in politics. There is a historical mistrust between media and politicos, as there has been recently between those who cover sports teams and the players and coaches they interact with in a particular market.

This has been exacerbated, of course, as media has become even more pervasive.

Given that media folks tend to last longer than most politicians or sports figures in a particular market, it makes sense, then, to find ways to make the interaction less contemptible.

Some Specific Suggestions to Help Politicians Become Better Communicators: 

1. 
   
    I’ve been in meeting rooms where politicians have been told, quite literally, “Minister, you don’t have to answer questions directly. Just keep repeating your message until the questions change…” or words to that effect. “Success” in those circumstances was (sadly) gauged by having survived tough questions through obfuscation. This approach kills credibility. (In sports, when a coach stays with this approach for too long, he is quite rightly ridiculed by the press—and fans.)
2. 
   
   “Talking points” can be important, of course. But how points are brought across is just as, if not more important. Just repeating the same lines over and over makes no sense. If you are asked a legitimate question, either in the House or out, why can’t it ever be addressed directly? Is it stubbornness, fear or simply bad advice, which precludes an elected official from responding appropriately? 
3. 
   
   Have you really won with the public when you leave Question Period either having yelled at the Minister of the day, or as the Minister of the day, having yet again successfully managed to crawl through Question Period evading real answers to the questions you were asked? Does anyone outside of Ottawa really think that still equals effective, credible communication, or concern for finding solutions to the real problems people face? 
4. 
   
   We all understand there is a huge risk, especially these days, in how politicians communicate. Athletes will still get paid if they mess up their media relationships. Politicians may lose their job. One slip, one off-hand remark and a political career may be lost. You’re followed everywhere, almost like a celebrity. Your comments and conversations are taped constantly. It can be both intoxicating and intimidating. 
5. 
   
   So the question may be, can you really be genuine and be in “successful” in politics? I still believe it’s possible, yes. You can be yourself. Just be your best self—true to yourself, determined and passionate.
6. 
   
   I’ve for many years believed that people don’t have to agree with you for you to be an effective communicator. In fact, they may disagree vehemently with your point of view.
7. 
   
   But, and this is a big but—if you can communicate in a thoughtful and credible way, in a manner that at least doesn’t turn people away and actually engages them and makes them open to at least really listening to what you have to say, then that is a first step in effective communication. 
8. 
   
   That means tone (how you say what you say) and attitude (arrogant, condescending or genuinely interested?) are hugely significant.
9. 
   
   The ability to deal straightforwardly is also crucial. If you dance around a question, people sense it immediately. People may not like an honest answer when they hear it, and honesty can do political damage, for sure. 

 But people absolutely loathe dishonesty when they detect it, so what’s worse?

Communication Questions and Thoughts for Political Advisors

 On the other hand, what can you, as a staffer do, to help your boss achieve something closer to “balance” in the way they prepare to communicate with their various day-to-day audiences—other politicians, the media, the everyday people and working families in their own community who your MPs are there to represent?

Again, lessons from the world of sports—from kids on the playground to professionals—may help guide you in your efforts:

1. 
   
   Adopt a team-centric approach. Do it because it’s the right thing to do, but also out of self-interest. Former staffers tell me the life expectancy of many Hill advisors is pretty short anyway, so you might as well go down with a good reputation.
2. 
   
   Being a team player can mean many different things. It doesn’t mean being the loudest person in the room, or the first to speak or the last to speak.
3. 
   
   Put your views forward strongly, but be open to the different perspectives that will inevitably emerge in any intelligent, healthy debate.
4. 
   
   The poor “team player” has an attitude that can spread like a disease, and over time can kill the harmony and chemistry that is often critically important in any work setting. It’s hard to meet “team” goals when individuals within the group are primarily fighting for attention, glory or credit.
5. 
   
   How are your listening skills? Do you take input well from others or make instant determinations to ignore what certain people say? We all know, instinctively, that being a listener is the first step in being a good communicator, and thus the first step in being able to advise others thoughtfully and wisely.
6. 
   
   How much, if any, time do you spend self-reflecting. Failure to look in the mirror generally means you aren’t stepping back and seeing if you are really suggesting the best options.
7. 
   
   Are you a get-your-hands dirty “role-player” or a glory person?
8. 
   
   Respect given is usually respect returned. This includes respect not just for your boss, but for fellow workers. Genuine respect is the basis for lasting relationships, in good times and bad.
9. 
   
    Negative body language can send awful signals—mostly about ourselves.
10. 
    
    The blame game is a favorite excuse in sports—is it in your office? “Not my fault”… is often our first instinct. In the non-teamwork environment, when things hit the fan, eventually everyone learns to cover their back, and you end up with a room full of people with their backs against a wall. It’s hard to be effective that way.
11. 
    
    When someone else is down, pick them up.
12. 
    
    Trust takes a long time to earn. But comfort is something you can start to create the moment you meet someone.
13. 
    
    Read, watch, compare, research, think, check your common sense meter, and then advise.

 If anyone—politicians, advisor, whomever—ever discovers that responsibility is more important than “power” and could genuinely and legitimately communicate that; the country would be further ahead.

A final comment: you’re never so experienced in these things that you can’t learn more. I recently read a comment from former Super-Bowl winning coach Jon Gruden, now a color analyst for ESPN. He has spent his “down” time away from coaching to be with family, but also to learn more about coaching methods. He mentioned that he has reached out to college coaches, and learned a lot from them, including coaches at Appalachian State.

Here’s someone who has won the biggest award in his profession, learning from those at a school many have never heard of.

The lesson of humility may be a worthwhile one for politicians and staffers, too.

Political communications advisors, politcal spin doctors, good media advice, bad media advice

The issue is more than respect

Within the past few days, I heard an NHL player, still in his 20’s, discussing the issue of “head shots” in the NHL.

It’s a serious issue, to be sure. The league has unfortunately been slow to deal with the question of concussions as a serious health concern. All major professional leagues are really just beginning to deal with the significant medical questions involved with any degree of resolve.

Interestingly, during the interview, the player suggested that there was less “respect” (there’s that word again) in the game than there was even five years ago.

The reality is, “respect”—or lack thereof—has been an issue for much longer than that. Some players may believe it has just cropped up as a problem, but that’s simply not the case. Every generation of player looks back and seems to say that there was more respect in the game in “their” day.

The thing is, those of us who have followed the game for fifty-plus years have heard that kind of comment for years and years.

Surely, there was no “respect” in the game more than five years ago when Todd Bertuzzi did what he did to end the career of a fellow NHL player. The young player had delivered in an earlier game between the two teams what may or may not have been considered, by some, a “clean” heat on the Canucks’ leader, Markus Naslund.

The price he paid: His career.

Yet Bertuzzi is still playing and has made millions and millions of dollar in income since.

So, how serious is the league about changing this ugly aspect of the culture of the game? The problem has exited forever.

How much respect was there when Eddie Shore ended Ace Bailey’s career in the 1930’s?

How much respect was there was Montreal’s Doug Harvey intentionally speared New York’s Red Sullivan in the 1959-60 season, I think it was, and Sullivan almost died?

Was there respect between players when Wayne Maki and Ted Green swung sticks at each other in a game in the late 1960s, and Green was seriously injured and was never the same player again afterward? Or when Eddie Shack and Larry Zeidel did much the same thing with their sticks?

Similarly, when Wayne Cashman swung his stick over his own head in a wheelhouse action and just missed hitting Dennis Hextall in the head in an early 1970s NHL game, where was the respect? There was no respect- and no suspension.

Did the Broad Street Bullies, the dirtiest team in hockey history that I have ever seen, play with respect?

When Dale Hunter hammered an unsuspecting Sylvain Turgeon from behind in a playoff game in the early ‘90s—simply because Turgeon had scored a goal—was there concern for fellow players in the game? Or when Marty McSorley chased down Donald Brashear and knocked him out with a stick to the head in the year 2000?

The point is: there has always been violent, terrible behaviour in the game. For too long, the league meted out only minimum justice (the McSorley incident/suspension behind a bit of an exception perhaps, since McSorley was suspended for a year)—and is still doing so today.

Even 8 games for the recent hit Wisniewski hit is nothing, really.

Speaking of nothing, that’s what Matt Cooke got for ending Marc Savard’s season.

At some point, the NHL Players Association has to wake up and focus on protecting the majority of their membership, rather than protecting the “rights” of a relative few players who carelessly injure others, under the guise of being a tough or aggressive player. (Bob Gainey was one of the toughest players in hockey in the 1970s and ‘80s, but didn’t resort to dirty play.) In fact, the NHLPA should have been way ahead of the League ownership on this one.

It’s hard to challenge the longstanding culture of the game, but it has to be done.

U.S. college football coaches continue to show the worst kind of leadership example

I’ve written in previous posts about a number of U.S. college football coaches and the (to me, at least) disappointing way some of them conduct their business.

They are supposed to be teachers, leaders, role-models, winners.

Too often, in reality they are recruiters and charlatans.

Beyond the obvious (and countless) instances of recruiting violations, poor conduct and such things, too many leave their contracts and the kids they recruited—high and dry because a “better” job came along. Brian Kelly, who recently left his Cincinnati college team to become coach at Notre Dame is an example, as is Lane Kiffin, who left the University of Tennessee after just one season to go to the University of Southern California.

Check previous posts and you’ll see this is a subject I believe is important when we are talking about sports, our youth, and what leadership really means.

A well-respected football writers in the United States, Peter King of NBC and Sports Illustrated, wrote a piece recently (shown in part, below, in italics) which largely mirrors my long-held views. I was particularly drawn to comments attributed to the son of legendary college football coach Joe Paterno.

*****

This Lane Kiffin story really ticks me off.

The gall of Kiffin. The unmitigated, outrageous gall of this kid. And the idiocy of Tennessee apparently giving Kiffin -- when, let's be honest, what options did he have coming off his disastrous 5-15 run with the Raiders? -- an $800,000 buyout after one year of his contract. But I blame Kiffin far more. Tennessee bought out Phil Fulmer's coaching staff, then brought in Kiffin and his staff (including his father, Monte, for a reported $1-million-a-year deal to be a college defensive coordinator) and the minute there's an opening at USC, Lane Kiffin bolts ... in the prime part of recruiting season, a terrible time to hire a coaching staff.

I wonder if Kiffin ever said to a single recruit since getting hired by Tennessee 13-plus months ago, "USC's my dream job, so if it ever opens up, I've got to go?'' Of course not. I'm sure the conversation was something like, "Come to Tennessee, I'm going to be here a long, long time, and we're going to win a national championship together.''

One 7-6 season. After Tennessee rescued a tarnished Kiffin. After Tennessee's athletics department backed Kiffin through six secondary recruiting violations, and after Tennessee backed Kiffin in a potential violation of having campus "hostesses'' make "visits'' to recruits all over the southeast.

And he's rewarded by another institution of higher learning (and I type that with as much sarcasm as I can muster), making him even richer than if he'd stayed at Tennessee .

Where's the decency? The maturity? The gratitude? The simple sense of even a pinch of loyalty?

My favorite part of this story is that Kiffin left Tennessee so hurriedly that he didn't even bother to call his brother-in-law, the brother of his wife, who was also his quarterbacks coach at Tennessee . The New York Times reported David Reaves found out Kiffin was bolting when he saw the news on TV at a local restaurant.

In the past few days, I've learned that I'm really old, because there's not nearly as much outrage as I thought there'd be over this. I'd say my Twitter account has been 60-40 against my anti-Kiffin stance (yes, I did call him "a bum''), believing that as long as he pays the buyout, he's got no obligation to the university beyond that. That's where I'll draw the line in the moral sand. He has an obligation to Tennessee. That school gave Kiffin and his family a life-preserver when he was on the street. Would he have gotten a good coaching job, after Davis booted him out of Oakland? Maybe. An SEC contender's coaching job? I doubt it. And this is how he thanks them.

Interesting column Friday on statecollege.com by Penn State quarterbacks coach Jay Paterno, son of Joe, railing about the state of college football. "This profession has lost touch with the reality of the world around us, and some coaches have lost touch with what the mission of our profession should be,'' Jay Paterno wrote. "We are starting to look as arrogant as the Wall Street bankers raking in seven-figure bonuses. The astronomical explosion in coaching salaries continues at a time of 10 percent unemployment in America and exploding tuition costs burdening working class families ... Coaches walk into a recruit's home and talk about how they will look out for that young man's future. The expectation is that the coach will help to guide him through a very formative time. A year later the same coach is off to another job for more money and left behind are the young men he promised to nurture towards their future.''

That's precisely the way I feel. I hated Brian Kelly skipping out on Cincinnati before its bowl game; I hated the USC staff not returning calls to recruits they'd bombarded with text messages and phone calls for months when Pete Carroll flirted with the Seahawks. But this one is so reprehensible because of Kiffin being rescued by the Vols and leaving after a cup of coffee and tons of broken promises. Now, a few notes responding to many of your e-mails and Tweets to me:

• Why this differs from a NFL coach like Bobby Petrino or Nick Saban leaving for college football. It doesn't. Those things were outrageous too.

• Why this differs from a coach who gets fired despite having a valid contract with his pro or college team. It does, because teams or schools have to pay a coach who gets fired what he's due under the terms of his contract. If he's got three years and $3 million left, the school has to fork it over.

• Why this differs from the Josh Cribbs story. You may know that I've been on Cribbs' contractual side. He's got three years left on a contract that in 2009 made him the 30th-highest-paid Cleveland Brown, though he was selected the all-pro return man this season. I've written the Browns should do the right thing and give Cribbs, the most dangerous special-teamer in football, a new contract. I feel strongly he should be paid more. But if he is not paid, he needs to live up to the contract he signed. He signed it, it stinks, and he's got to live with it if he can't reach agreement on a new deal.

• Why this differs from the real world. Scores of you believe I'm a Pollyanna about this. I currently have a contract with Sports Illustrated, and another with NBC. If another media company came to me and offered me three times what I'm making, I wouldn't entertain the offer. I want to believe I'm like most Americans -- a contract's a contract.

Except, of course, if you're a college football coach.

********

Based on King’s comments above, some people are evidently not troubled by coaches moving around, believing, I suppose, that it’s a “free country” as the saying goes and coaches have a right to go where they want to go, whenever they want to go- just like anyone else

While that is true, the example it sets for young people, on many levels, is anything but good.