Advice from a Mysterious Russian

ASSIGNMENT: FT 500 COO candidate (succession planning), Part 2 
LOCATION: Istanbul, Turkey 
CLIENT: Global 500 company

While waiting on the dock here in Istanbul something weird is in the air.

As an executive recruiter that has never said no to a tough, unlikely assignment I've found myself in many a strange situation. Done right, proper recruiting is an intoxicating blend of hunting and sales. Find The Best and sell them on your client. Fill the empty seat. The quant dogs of BCG can take their number rush; I'll take a tough search assignment any day. At least that’s what I was reminding myself of…

With evening quickly fading to night I jumped down into the big speedboat. No sooner had I grabbed onto one of the high seats than the driver cracked open the throttles and the hellacious engines roared up to full voice and we took off up the Bosporus. The 50’s candidate I interviewed throughout the afternoon looked over at me and smiled. I didn’t know who we were going to meet. It was spur of the moment. I have the generally useful trait of being up for almost anything.

I had arrived late last night into Istanbul and this afternoon met up with the COO succession candidate for a lunch that turned into a pleasant multi-stop food ramble through town. It was going well. He understood my client’s challenges and shared his own thinking about them. He was on board, very sharp, and connected. He was happy to let me record most of the conversation and the audio quality was good. I was looking forward to getting back to the hotel to edit it down and transmit it to the client.

Well, that was the plan anyway. But now we were slowing up to a dock by the candidate’s waterside villa. We tied up next to an old fishing boat that looked out of place against the beautiful houses overlooking the water. There was something odd about the wooden boat but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It seemed very clean for a fishing trawler.

I climbed up onto the dock and looked over my shoulder across the strait to downtown Istanbul. I could see the colorful safety of my tall hotel. That was Europe. Although still in Istanbul, we were now walking in Asia. It felt darker, and it wasn’t just the fading orange light.

As we approached the sliding glass doors behind a beautiful, faintly modern house, the candidate turned around and said, “I've told my friend you’re the guy whose newsletter I occasionally forward. You're both in the people business. He's semi-retired. Don't ask him a lot of questions."

This didn’t help my comfort level. I ask questions for a living.

As we walked into a formal, dark wood paneled room a short, heavyset man in an old fisherman sweater got up and shook the candidate’s hand, then mine. His hand was massive and could have easily crumbled mine like a graham cracker. He was introduced simply as Yuri by the candidate. I was introduced with both my first and last name. The man smiled and nodded, somehow knowingly. It was obviously his boat out back. They smelled the same.

“The ladies are upstairs in the kitchen with the fish I brought,” Yuri said in a gravelly voice that sounded like Henry Kissinger but with the stretched out syllables of Russian.

“Great. You two have a seat,” the candidate said as he disappeared around a corner.

Yuri and I sat down. On the table between us was a chilled screw cap bottle without the cap, three stubby wine glasses and a bowl of pickles. I could smell vodka. I knew what was coming. My head hurt already from the afternoon. We made small talk about fishing, subtly testing each other’s answer depth. Despite the sweater the place smelled great. Somebody knows how to cook fish, I thought to myself.

When the candidate came down we all sipped, then tossed back the chilled vodka. It was strangely smooth. There was no burn at all. Nice.

Yuri reached across to get the bottle. As he did the left sleeve of the worn sweater slid up. In the overhead light I caught a glimpse of the distinctive octagonal face of a massively expensive gold Audemars Piguet Royal Oak watch. His business, whatever it really is, must be good.

Another round went down. Number two. It was hitting me.

There was a strange dynamic in the room. The three of us formed an equal sided triangle, with the host at the end of the table, but clearly I was on the outside. I wanted to somehow take back some control but I knew it simply wasn't possible—I never had any to give up. The Russian controlled the room. It was like he controlled the gravity holding us all to the floor. He was like Jack Welch in his prime at GE. The Russian’s human capital was immense. You could feel it. People around him became his property, willing or not.

Yuri looked from me to the host and asked. “You told him about finding someone’s stirrup??”

“He did,” I said answering the question for him.

“I’ve read some of your rules. Some are useful,” the fisherman said to me.

“And which ones have you found ‘useful’?” I asked breaking the host’s no questions rule.

The Russian thought a moment, looking down at his vodka glass then back over to me. “The ones about controlling the movements of your enemy or competition. Mostly good stuff.” He paused, then repeated, smiling, “Mostly.” He reached down and picked one of the pickles out of the bowl and bit it in half. It crunched.

“What would you add?” I asked. “What’s a management rule that’s worked for you?” I glanced over to our host who seemed OK with the question. I realized it was the identity of the Russian I wasn’t supposed to poke around. That was OK with me. Eventually I would find out. I always do.

While Yuri was thinking the host reached over and refilled the glasses. The three of us tossed them back. That was it for me. I had to work later on the day’s recordings. Tough to do when a room won’t stay still around you.

The Russian spoke. “Well, you should certainly never let anyone know the reality of how hard you are working on something. It just needs to get done.”

“And why is that?” I asked.

“The moment somebody knows how hard you are working they can measure more precisely what you are capable of. That is not good. They know your limits and can predict your behavior. In my experience, it is better to make everything look effortless, even if you are withering, and then choose more wisely, later, if you misjudged.”

I said, “That’s the old corporate warfare rule of controlling your competition by controlling what they think they know about you. War and business, it’s largely the same.”

“Exactly,” the fisherman said. “My first mentor taught me how to move arrogant or unskilled enemies around like chess pieces by making them think something I was doing was either very tough, or very easy, or something in-between. It’s gratifying to watch your enemy do exactly what you intend them to do. Disinformation is a cheap yet very powerful weapon.”

“When weak, appear strong. When strong, appear weak,” I said.

Watching me closely he finished my thought saying, “When close, appear far. When far, appear close.” Still watching me he paused then added slowly, “Scientia est potentia.”

“’Knowledge is power’,” I answered nodding and smiling inside, translating the Latin.

A few seconds of silence followed as we watched each other, then a woman’s voice came from upstairs. The host made a gesture with his hand and a moment later the glass door behind me slid open. The boat driver stood outside waiting, obviously for me. Whatever this was, it was over. Our host stood up, with Yuri and me following.

The fisherman reached out to shake my hand. “Tell me Mr. Newhart,” he said shaking it. “Why is it a bad idea to be just as good as your competition?”

At last, new fruit to pluck. “Because, Yuri, ‘as good’ means average,” I said. “There’s nothing compelling about average; it’s just another word for mediocre. Nobody changes for mediocre. They change for better. That’s why I came all this way to talk to him,” I said nodding toward the candidate who was a great example of better.

I thanked our host and stepped halfway out the door but stopped when the fisherman spoke. “It was nice finally meeting you. Our paths will cross again.”

“I know,” I said before turning out the door into the moist night air. That’s when I realized I was being interviewed for something.

The next day I flew home to Chicago. It had been an interesting few days.

Think about it…

What's Your Stirrup?

ASSIGNMENT: FT 500 COO candidate (succession planning), Part 1
LOCATION: Istanbul, Turkey 
CLIENT: Global 500 company

After the walk down from the hotel in Istanbul the candidate and I took a seat on a bench overlooking the river-like Bosporus. Although we were sitting in Europe, we could see Asia not even two miles across the water. Ferryboats and other boat traffic were busily moving back and forth in front of us. To the right was the Sea of Marmara leading to the Aegean and up the Bosporus to the left was the Black Sea less than 20 miles away. Across the water from us, I could see tall minarets of mosques glowing in the fading orange light. The air was warm and moist. Another early evening in a beguiling place proving, once again, serious recruiting can still be enjoyable.

The secret interview up at the Ritz Carlton had gone well and turned into a long, multi-stop lunch as the candidate and I wandered through town to the water talking as we went. Editing down the recorded sections of the conversation for the client was going to be a complex chore back at the hotel, when my head cleared. And it definitely had clearing to do thanks to some very strange raki and ouzo based concoctions we had consumed as we wandered around while I got to know him.

“That’s my ride,” the candidate said pointing from the shore to a white speck racing across the straits directly toward us.

“So, what’s your secret?” I asked watching the approaching, cigarette-style boat. It was hard to judge its speed but I figured we had about two minutes. I could already hear its big, meaty engines.

The candidate turned on the bench to face me. “Secrets?” he said laughing. “I have no secrets. What makes you think I have secrets?”

“Your effectiveness,” I said simply. “What makes you so effective?”

He thought about it a moment. I noticed this habit earlier. He didn’t just flip out an answer like most candidates hoping to impress. When I tossed a question mark at him it was as if he would catch it and examine it carefully for a moment before answering. It was refreshing to watch.

He finally said, “I guess it would be my ability to recognize how well a person uses his or her stirrup.”

Now it was my turn to pause, trying to figure it out. “You mean as in a, horse?” I asked, baffled.

“Right. Every successful manager has a stirrup. The question is what is it, and how well do they use it.”

“I’m still not following you.”

“It’s simple. A big reason Genghis Kahn conquered so much of the world was because of his expert use of horses. The horses were, in effect, the terror weapon of their day. Even better than the earlier chariot which was expensive to build. But until the invention of the stirrup, the horse as a weapons platform had a serious flaw. The rider was so busy hanging on for dear life he couldn’t accurately aim his distance weapons which were heavy crossbow arrows. The stirrup changed that. Now the warrior could not only move fast but could accurately aim his weapon at the same time. Combined with Kahn’s tactics it was a key advantage and a game changer.”

We both looked over at the approaching speedboat, which now appeared to glow red in the setting sunlight.

I looked back at the candidate. “You’re describing concentration of force and that’s a great thing if you know where to focus it.”

“And a good manager does,” he said as we stood up. “That’s part of their job.”

“Of course,” I said as we walked toward a stubby little pier where the launch had pulled up. “But I’m still waiting for you to relate your success to stirrups.”

He laughed as he took a long, steady step down into the rocking boat. “Very simple. As we discussed at lunch, in business it’s hard to do something truly meaningful entirely alone. You need a great team. So when I’m thinking about hiring somebody I look to see if they have a stirrup. And if so, can I use it to help change the game to the sustainable benefit of the ownership. Keep me posted,” he said looking up and waving goodbye. With that, he leaned into the powerful boat’s acceleration as it roared off to his shoreside home across the straits.

I watched as the boat got smaller, then could hear the engines change note as it started a wide sweeping turn to the left and head back towards me. My phone buzzed signaling a text message.

“We’re coming back to pick you up. I’m having dinner with somebody you should meet.”

This will be interesting, I thought to myself waiting for the approaching boat.

What You Should be Doing Minute to Minute

ASSIGNMENT:  FT 500 COO candidate

LOCATION: Piazza San Marco, Venice, Italy

CLIENT: Global 500 company

We were sitting at a small round table on the side of the Piazza San Marco in Venice. The famous bell tower rose high above us. There were a lot of pigeons around. In a sudden, flapping flourish, several took off right over us.

The candidate, in his 50s, laughed as he ducked. We had been talking for about an hour. Time was running short and I was getting ready to turn off the small digital recorder on the table between us.

I turned back to the candidate. “Ok, one more question. This one is for my newsletter and if you don’t mind we’ll keep the recorder going. The rest of the interview I’ll e-mail to the client from the airport before I leave tonight.

“Sure,” he said holding up his espresso cup signaling the furtive waiter to bring another.

“Share with me your best tip. Something a true corporate warrior should know. Something that helped you get where you are, which is obviously a pretty good place despite your boss’s scandal.”

Before he could answer, a sharp comment in a language I didn’t understand came from the next table. It was obviously cursing which has a nearly universal tone. The candidate and I both looked over. An elegant, well dressed blond woman was sitting alone, staring at a fresh white blotch on her navy blue jacket sleeve. A pigeon had made a deposit. I leaned over and placed my espresso spoon and carafe of water in front of her. “First the spoon and then all the water,” I said smiling.

The candidate, with an understanding smile and enthusiasm that seemed to raise the day’s fading light said, “And remember, it’s good luck!”

Following the instructions she thanked us in what sounded Slavic, maybe Russian. But it didn’t matter. Her eloquent smile said everything worth saying.

I turned back to the candidate. “So, your best tip for high-value managers. For true corporate warrior types.”

“Ok,” he said looking from the pretty woman back to me. “That’s easy. You’ve come all this way to interview me because your client knows of me as someone who gets a lot done. People think it’s a trick and it’s not. It’s a simple mindset. At any slack moment, I ask myself what is the most important thing I can be doing right now. Back when I started in Belgium my mentor taught me there is never enough time to do everything you have to do, but there is always enough time to do the most important thing.”

“But how do you choose?” I asked as his espresso arrived.

“The easiest tells are things with long term consequences.”

As he finished the espresso we both looked at our watches. “We good?” he asked.

I nodded, put a colorful Euro note down and picked up the recorder as we both stood up, returning the warm smile from the woman at the next table. “We’re good,” I said shaking his hand.

With that he strolled off towards his wife and daughter waiting at nearby Harry’s Bar. As I watched him I asked myself what was the most important thing I should be doing right then. The answer was pretty simple: I picked up my light carry-on and headed toward the Grand Canal and the ferry ride to Marco Polo Airport for the evening flight to Istanbul and the next candidate.

More later…

How a Fortune 500 CEO Helps Change Happen in 7 Steps

Before the client pulled the limo’s door closed he looked up at me and said, "I’ll send the steps to your phone. Give me about 15 minutes." He then looked at the candidate standing beside me and said, "Welcome aboard! Work it out with him," he said nodding toward me. He added a quick "Thanks!" then smiled and waved to a couple of passersby that recognized him. With that he drew the car’s door closed as it pulled away from the Four Seasons toward Chicago’s Midway Airport.

The candidate and I stood on the windy sidewalk watching the car. It had been a long interview. I hadn’t been hired to find the candidates for the job. This time I was sent a short list of high profile managers to entice into possibly working for the fellow in the car. Most of the people on the list receive this newsletter so it was pretty straightforward. I did the video screening interviews then set up and facilitated the final interviews like this one. This was all done quickly, with no fanfare, and with the hermetic confidentiality my clients expect from me.

Leaning against the wind the tall candidate looked at me. "I guess that means I got the job." He paused and added, "Right?" he said with a hint of laughter.

I put out my hand and shook his. I'd been through this oddness before. He hadn't. I nodded. "Oh, yes," I said, adding, "Congratulations! You’re in for an interesting 48 months." I looked around him and signaled the doorman. A cab materialized almost out of thin air. As the candidate climbed in we shook hands again and I said, "We’ll get the letter over in the morning. You'll like the final terms."

A moment later he was headed toward O’Hare. I turned and went back into the hotel. Taking the elevator up to the Seasons Lounge, I ordered a drink and fell into one of the cushy chairs.

The conversation that afternoon had ranged from Little League to the Army’s concept of VUCA (Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity and Ambiguity) to the difference between action and change. "Action is often meaningless," the client said in his well known, matter-of-fact manner. "Change is what counts." We explored the importance of getting inside your competition’s decision cycle, the value of "ground truth" and the importance of empowering all your teams with what he (and the Army) called an electronic, real-time RCP, or Relevant Common Picture "so that everybody makes decisions from the same information" (the candidate had implemented a similar system with such granularity he could predict what his competition was going to do often even before they knew themselves—awesome). Like I said, it had been an intensely engaging afternoon. There was a reason my head throbbed.

The phone in my jacket pocket vibrated. I took it out and downloaded the note. Here is what it said: (Note: Some of the text was in a different font and I could see I wasn’t the only person to get a version of this particular missive. The list is reproduced here with his permission and it can be forwarded by any Corpwar reader that wants to do so.)

Tal, I have found there are typically at least 7 stages to making a change in an organization. I always try to do all of them since over the years I’ve found skipping any of the stages reduces the chances of eventual success. This isn’t just for the big glory moves either. It works at all levels. All my senior managers understand, and use, some version of the list.

1.     Time. The change has to happen soon. Make sure you get across why it’s a good thing. If you have communicated the benefits properly you shouldn’t need your boot tips.

2.     Team. I get a team together, preferably where everybody knows and has worked with each other, to see the thing through, soup to nuts; from the beginning all the way through to the eventual consumer, whether internal or external. Pick the team wisely. Make sure there are some dissenters. You don’t want everybody thinking alike. You need the idea to be rigorously challenged internally. I use that Gen. Patton quote you sent out. ("If everyone is thinking alike, somebody isn't thinking." -General George Patton, Jr.)

3.     Vision of the future. Convey your vision to your teams. If you don’t have a vision, work with your trusted resources to develop one. If you still don’t have one, do your equity holders a favor and help find your replacement.

4.     Communication. Make sure everybody in the enterprise/group knows what the vision is.

5.     Empower. Make sure everybody can move their area toward the vision. This way you can converge on it on multiple tracks. There should be a lot of work in parallel. Think digital. Analog is yesterday.

6.     Interim goals. If the vision is too far off people may not be sufficiently motivated. Dial in sub-goals so they can occasionally taste their own momentum toward the ultimate prize. People prefer to reach for what they can actually touch; it’s ok to keep it beyond their grasp, just not too far or too often.

7.     Reinforce. When the change has been achieved keep it high profile until it is assimilated into the organization or group. Get it organic as soon as possible. It has to be part of the walls. Part of the mindset. The culture.

Get the paperwork to that guy ASAP. I like him. As you said last night, “He gets it.”

With that I dropped the phone into my pocket, paid the bill and left for home. Interesting day.