Musings
Complexity
Thoughts After Contemplating Dead Spiders
The Paradoxes of Corporate Life: Compensation, Part 3
The Paradoxes of Corporate Life: Compensation, Part 2
Too many years later, I came to the realization that John was wrong. I came to the realization that I focused on the wrong piece of our conversation.
You see, what I heard was a limitation being imposed on me that would keep me in check for many years. It became a story I told myself over and over again, each year, anticipating disappointing results. When the results were better than expected, then I could feel better about the situation. When the results were what I had come to expect (a low, uninspiring number), then…no harm, no foul, right? But “the situation” I had come to expect was harming me, was foul. It kept me from envisioning anything better for myself than the bare minimum. Who knows what kind of ripple effect that thinking had on me? I am sure there was an element of self-fulfilling prophecy at work because I never saw anything better for myself. Well, at least not until I started believing in something better for myself.
What I should have heard was someone who had worked for the company for many years and who was just trying to set realistic expectations with a newbie. What I should have heard was someone who had obviously set limitations on their own possibilities. What I should have heard was a challenge to blow away all expectations.
It wasn’t until relatively recently that I released myself from whatever self-imposed restrictions I placed on myself because of how I chose to internalize something someone else said to me 11 years ago. Mouthful, I know. But, I buried that injury deep. I buried it so deep, in fact, that the impact of that moment was never quite clear to me. I didn’t understand the full impact of that interaction until just a few days ago, to be honest. As I began to truly explore that experience, I realized that it not only lead me to impose limits on myself, it also colored the way I felt about salary administration in general. For years, I agonized over having to have those conversations about money with my direct reports. I never really understood why. I always assumed it was because I didn’t want to deal with other people’s monetary hang-ups. Boy, was I wrong! What I didn’t want to deal with were my OWN hang-ups.
Why is this a problem? Well, it’s a problem because I became a manager and learned about leadership so that I could have a positive impact on the lives of other people. Most of the year, I get to experience a feedback loop that keeps me in touch with the people I am entrusted to lead, that keeps me in touch with what drives me, and that keeps me in touch with how both of these help me grow as a human being. I lose touch with that feedback loop every year around salary admin time. Heck, I lose touch with myself. Just ask my wife. I can be a crabby asshole. That state of being affects her, affects my children, affects my co-workers, affects my team…it insinuates itself into so many aspects of my life. I think part of that’s just human nature; there’s an Ebenezer Scrooge in all of us.
By denying myself the opportunity to acknowledge and experience the continuum of leadership, the ups and the downs, I was not allowing myself to get satisfaction out of my job. I spend a lot of time at work, just like most people, and not getting the most out of my job…man, that just sucks. Some people like to fix things. Some people like to sell things. Some people like to help people be better members of a corporation. But all people, all people, who work want to at least get some measure of satisfaction from their job. It helps us get through everyday and feel like what we do matters to someone, somewhere.
I’m not blaming John for how I felt. He said what he said because he was who he was. He wasn’t trying to crush my spirit. I think he was just trying to be realistic. That said, the whole interaction does remind me of something my father used to tell me: there is a right way and a wrong way to deliver a message. I allowed what he said to affect me because I was sensitive and insecure. I buried it because that was my coping mechanism. I’m digging this stuff up now. Heck, I’m digging stuff up all the time these days. My coping mechanisms are different today than they were 11 years ago. It’s ironic that I was an anthropology major, now that I think about it. I spend a lot of time freeing artifacts from the prisons of their past.
In 2009, I freed myself from a limitation that I put on myself a long time ago. I freed myself from a burden that grew from that self-inflicted injury. I am no longer constrained by a belief that I had about my potential. It’s not just about my potential to make money, either. It is also about my confidence as a leader to manage a system that I have to manage in order to compensate the people who report to me for the work that they do. And it’s about making sure I am in touch, in the moment, and able to deliver my messages the right way, just like my dad said.
Now, that systemI mentioned…the one the drives how corporations compensate their employees? THAT is a rant for another day…
The Paradoxes of Corporate Life: Compensation
I should really be saving this rant for another date and time early next year when we have to dole out the yearly salary increases, but I’m feeling inspired right now.
In corporate life, there are many things that are paradoxical, contradictory, or even counter-intuitive. There are many mixed messages that get created in the whirlwind of corporate ideals, goals, spin doctoring, and priorities. Historically, yearly salary administration has been the bane…THE BANE…of my existence. For all of my years as a leader and manager, I have recited the same lament: “I hate this time of year.” A common variation is, “I love everything about my job except salary administration.” Not so anymore. Something has fundamentally changed my outlook this year. It makes the most sense if I first tell a short story.
When I was a newly minted manager, I had but a few weeks under my belt before annual salary administration came around. Nobody blamed me for their inadequate raises…because, after all, what you get is NEVER enough. Well, almost never. For me, my raise that year was plenty. Apart from having to administer raises in tandem with the gentleman who I was replacing, as an employee myself, I got to enjoy the other side of the table. The gentleman I was replacing also happened to be my boss, so, when we sat down to talk salary, the man who had been my mentor and most ardent supporter was allowed the pleasure of telling me my percent increase for the year. Back in those days, there was a very rigid system in place that matched salary grade to job description. It was so rigid, in fact, that to promote anyone required that the person in question be given compensation equal to the very minimum of the salary range for that position. In my case, my current salary and the minimum of my new position were vastly different. I’m talking about a sizable gap. Sizable.
I arrived at my boss’ office. He waved me in. I sat down. We talked. I told him how excited I was about my first leadership assignment. He told me how proud he was. We exchanged encouraging compliments. We wished each other well on our new roles. And, then, he told informed me of my increase.
“17%,” he said. “Not even prorated.”
I was floored. It was incredible. I couldn’t believe it. My wife was going to have a baby when she heard about this…and we weren’t even pregnant.
I think he gushed some more about me, how he was entrusting his team to me, but I can’t remember anything else. When we were done, I stood to leave.
“John wants to see you,” he said. John was his boss.
I hesitated. “OK,” I said reluctantly. I was barely in my mid-20s, and I was still very susceptible to organizational intimidation. I didn’t “gel” with John, and I could swear that dude thought I was a dork. Regardless, I gathered up my courage and headed off to John’s office.
I knocked at the door. John turned around.
“Come in,” he said. He gestured towards a chair.
Small talk. Congratulations. After about 5 minutes, he got to it.
“You will never, ever see this kind of raise again.”
I was crushed. There was nothing gentle about it. There was no note of pleasantness, no glimmer of hope. All he gave me was the assertion that I would never, ever be worth that much to this organization again. And I listened to him.
I believed him.Dream Like a Child
But…I can sense that subtle change starting in my oldest. You know, that hesitation. It’s the beginning of the seeds of doubt. It is what most of us would call “maturity.”
I call it tragic and, frankly, stupid. Why does there need to be doubt? What keeps me from hopping on a plane right now and heading off to Africa? OK, my wife probably wouldn’t be very happy about the whole “ditching” thing, but I would “ditto” that one if she pulled something like that on me. No, my wife is much more likely to figure out how to pay for ALL of us to go. But, seriously, what is the point of editing? Editing is limiting, and limiting is just another form of death. Better to live a life dreaming and not fulfilling all your dreams than to live a mature life and never once dream again. There is a difference between having your head in the clouds, always wishing for a “better tomorrow” that will never come and dreaming like a child about the infinitely cool things you can do. When your head is in the clouds, you neglect to live in the moment, always wishing that you were living a better life. When you dream like a child, you live for every moment and actively engage in creating the next. I want my head out of the clouds. I want to dream like my children. Most importantly, I want to help my family make their dreams come true.








