On Thanksgiving, a relative said something along these lines to me, “It’s remarkable that my teenage son has unlimited knowledge and is correct about, well, everything.” His son is indeed very bright, but his tongue-in-cheek point was that his son’s overconfidence and self-righteousness was a bit of an issue at the moment.
I thought about saying that I had suffered from the same delusions at that age, but in fact it wasn’t until I was in my 20s that I thought I have figured everything out—and on top of that was insufferably overeager to share my certainty on matters big and small with anyone who would listen.
As people whom I have taught in college courses or been my mentees will tell you, over time my certainty about so many things has eroded even as my knowledge, experience and—I hope—wisdom have grown.
If you asked me in my 20s about a whether one school of thought or one value judgement about an important topic was right or wrong, I would most likely have responded “yes” or “no.” Today, when faced with the same question, I am much more likely to say, “it depends” or “I don’t know.” Over time, shades of gray, nuance and intellectual humility have become bigger parts of my worldview.
This was on my mind when I read this New York Times article about Elon Musk’s demand that workers at Twitter commit to “extremely hard core” effort and hours. The author largely rejected the kind of culture that Musk wants to create as antiquated, counter-productive, and harmful.
There was a time in my life as a changemaker and as a nonprofit leader when expecting if not demanding “hardcore” effort would have seemed natural to me. I believed that important causes required sacrifice and extreme effort. At other times in my career, I would have flatly rejected the kind of culture that Musk is apparently trying to create as inhumane and unproductive, especially in the context of a mission-driven organization.
Today, at age 55, I see this issue, and so many others, as more complex. On the one hand, insisting on extreme effort from all of one’s employees all year round is a recipe for an unhealthy culture—regardless of how important the cause is. But I do believe there is a place for allowing and even expecting that kind of work ethic for relatively short bursts of time—when circumstances demand it or when an individual employee’s priorities and passions align with it.
To take one common scenario people often talk about in terms of workplace culture, I don’t believe that one should expect an employee to respond to their boss’s midnight email, but I do think it is OK for the boss to send one at that hour if that is when he or she chooses to, and also that it is OK if an employee responds right away if they decide that they want to do so.
At Grameen Foundation, I think we struck the right balance on culture most of the time (which I explore at length in my midlife memoir and in another book which is essentially an annotated checklist of leadership tips and mindsets). For example, we allowed people to work a normal 35-45 hour workweek when that made sense to them, and a 60-70+ hour workweek at other times—without passing judgement on either operating mode (as long as they got their most important work done and didn’t alienate their colleagues or other important stakeholders in the process).
We realized, for example, that people raising school-aged children had different schedules and limitations than those who were not. When an employee needed a leave of absence, wanted to take advantage of a professional development opportunity, or asked to relocate to another state or country for a few months, we let them do it—figuring that this would deepen their commitment to the organization, which it usually did. (And no, they rarely “took advantage” of us by slacking off or looking for another job, though that did occasionally happen.)
Organizations that expect extreme or muted/constrained efforts from all of its employees at all times are unlikely to get the best results or keep the best people. Rather, those that are flexible, humane, demanding, purposeful, and playful generally work the best. Balancing these values, which sometimes compete with one another, is not easy.
Alas, truth is rarely black or white—despite what some 15 and 25 year-olds, and more than a few billionaires, might tell you.