Out here at Corporate Hallucinations, we talk a lot about executive communication. Usually, I like to make fun of it . . . because so many executives are so bad at it.
Face it: it’s fun to make fun of those constipated-looking white guys on page two of the employee publication, with their stupid signature on the bottom of the page, as if they are trying to say: “Hey, I swear, I wrote this column myself! Look, I even signed it! I must have wrote it, because I signed it! That’s my signature, right there on the bottom!”
But while it’s easy to have some laughs at their expense, every once in a while I see an example of bad executive communication that’s not funny at all. Once a year or so, I’ll come across a case where poor—or worse, dishonest—CEO communication really hurts the employees. I mean, really hurts them.
In fact, this just happened to me personally.
First, you have to understand that, even though I work for myself and have my own company, I consider Mark Ragan of Ragan Communications to be my CEO.
Mark hired me right out of college 16 years ago. He gave me the chance to edit the Ragan Report, Ragan’s flagship newsletter, even though I only had a year’s worth of experience at the time. He took a flyer on me and put me on the road to do seminars, something I love doing.
Mark has opened doors for me throughout my career. So even though I now have my own company, I still consider Mark to be my CEO. I sometimes even call him “Chief” just to irritate him.
So when Mark tells me something, it means a lot, because it’s coming from the CEO. Just like at any other organization where employees want and need to trust the CEO, I want and need to trust Mark.
But I’m not sure I can do that anymore. And there’s a lesson here for communicators. Here’s the story:
Mark, as some of you may know, was diagnosed last year with prostate cancer. He is doing great, and all tests are good, and he somehow has more energy than ever. Which is a scary concept to Ragan employees everywhere.
But he’s been telling any male who will listen—and, since he’s the CEO, we all listen—to get a PSA test. That’s the test that indicates whether you might have prostate cancer.
Well, I was in the office the other day, and I happened to mention to Mark that I was going to the doctor to get a checkup.
“Get that Goddamned PSA test,” he said. “I met guys in treatment younger than you who had prostate cancer. You better get it done.”
Now, as a guy, just the very word “prostate” scares me. It conjures up visions of rubber gloves and pain and horrific invasions into places that are sacred to me. So I’d rather just not think about it at all.
Mark, being Mark, a trained reporter, sensed my hesitation. “It’s just a blood test,” he told me. “All they’re going to do is take some blood. It’s that easy. The doctor will tell you that you’re too young to worry about it, but you need to insist on it.”
A blood test? I could handle a blood test, I said to myself. Any sissy could handle a blood test. So when I went to the doctor, I told him I wanted a PSA test.
“You’re a little young,” he said—just like Mark, my CEO, said he would.
Thanks to my CEO, however, I was ready for that particular line of bullshit.
“No, I’m not,” I said, with what I hoped was a steely look of determination in my eyes. “My friend Mark just battled prostate cancer, and he told me he met tons of guys my age who were going through it. I really want that test.”
Now, I don’t know if I pissed the doctor off by telling him his business, or what. But he looked at me for a while, before he finally said:
“Okay. I also want to check your prostate,” he said.
“Right,” I said. “That’s what the PSA test is. Test away, my good man. Test away.”
But that’s not what he meant.
“I also want to do a digital rectum exam,” he said.
Digital! Rectum! Exam! Those are exactly the words I didn’t want to hear! Those are the words I’ve been afraid of since I knew what a rectum was!
And I’m not stupid. I knew “digital” didn’t mean electronic, as in a clock. It meant digits, as in fingers. As in fingers and knuckles and fingernails and all of those things getting intimate with my rectum.
But, God help me, it was too late to back off. And I can only say this: If Mark Ragan were within reach at that moment in time, I would have given him a digital rectum exam with the doctor’s stethoscope, followed by that little tool they stick in your ears and throat, before finishing up with a chair leg.
Before I could even realize what was happening, I was laying on my side, while the doctor made small talk and greased up what must have been four or five digits, and a limb, and stuffed them into my rectal test area. In this particular doctor’s office, “digital” apparently meant: “entire arm.”
I was too shaken up afterwards to look at the doctor’s hands, but this guy had to have been a cross between Herman Munster and a Polish pipe fitter.
And as I made my way home, walking a little like a dog that has just been fixed, I realized that a part of me could never trust my CEO again, because he didn’t tell me the whole truth.
He left out the hard part, the part he thought I wouldn’t want to hear, or couldn’t handle . . . which is what CEOs tend to do when it comes to employee communication. They sugarcoat. They spin. They think employees can’t handle the truth.
The lesson for communicators is obvious:
Make sure your CEO tells employees the whole story—even the bad news. Especially the bad news. In fact, make sure they understand the bad news first, before anything else. Because if the bad stuff gets sprung on them unawares, you’ll never be able to build that trust back again.
Telling someone about a “restructuring” but leaving out the “layoffs” part is like telling them to take a blood test and neglecting to tell them they’re about to take it up the ass.
Comments (33)
Thanks for the vivid lesson, Steve. I don't think I can EVER forget to urge my execs to tell the bad news first after reading this. Bravo!
Posted by Aidan | January 23, 2008 9:31 PM
Posted on January 23, 2008 21:31
Ok, now that I can breathe again, and have wiped the tears of laughter from my face...
Far be it from me to take sides, because you know that I love you Steve, and I also think Mark is a pretty great guy.
However, I'm afraid that your post kinda, sorta, appears to have, you know, justified the CEO penchant for leaving out the bad news. Because, tell the truth - if Mark had told you about the whole "digital exam" thing you would NEVER EVER EVER have had anything to do with getting tested, now would you??
And, heaven knows I am not the poster child for the "Defense of Poor Helpless Underdog CEOs" charity, but the fact that employees, (in some cases) aren't going to "get on board" with whatever actions need to happen - like in restructuring - especially if they are negative or painful to keep the business going, is part of why some of these senior people don't give out the whole story.
Don't misunderstand me - I DO NOT SUPPORT lying or disseminating to employees!! But Steve, I am very worried that your story is likely to reinforce this behaviour with the thousands of CEOs whom I know avidly read this blog to find out what's really going on out there. I think you need to consider doing a retraction, or find a story where the employee was willing, if not happy, to take the unpleasant actions necessary for the success of the "company."
Something, anything to keep these CEOs from running around saying: "Look! Even Steve agrees that if we tell them the truth, they won't do what is needed, so ultimately Steve told us not to tell" Because, you and I both know that CEO thought processes often work in exactly that way.
Posted by Kristen | January 24, 2008 7:56 AM
Posted on January 24, 2008 07:56
Steve, you are such a sissy. It's probably why women - who give birth, have mammograms, PAP tests, pluck their eyebrows, get bikini waxes, etc. - like the ones who read this blog, think that all men are cry babies. Thanks.
As a fellow member of the tribe, keep these things to yourself. Or if you feel an overwhelming urge to share, make sure it reflects well on the band of brothers.
Like admitting you felt a bit light headed at the sight of your own blood...in the aftermath of nearly having your arm severed while saving someone (preferably a mother and her young daughter) from falling to their deaths from the Sears tower.
Or that the reason you haven't blogged lately is because your arm has been sore...as a result of the multiple gunshot wounds you suffered when you leapt to the defense of museum patrons - kids, of course, at the Chicago Children's Museum - from a crazed, crack addict who wanted to go out in a blaze of glory.
Wait until you have a Colonoscopy then maybe we'll feel sorry for you...Nah.
Posted by Craig Jolley | January 24, 2008 8:26 AM
Posted on January 24, 2008 08:26
Aidan: If my suffering can help improve communications just a little in this world, then I am happy to do it. BUT . . . I AM worried about what you said, Kristen.
My God, You're right. If Mark would have told me what was going to happen, I would have been sitting in El Jardin's, drinking margaritas, instead of on my side, getting violated.
I didn't think of it that way. Luckily, only one CEO (Mark) reads this blog, and he only reads it occasionally. So I think we're okay.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | January 24, 2008 8:35 AM
Posted on January 24, 2008 08:35
Craig:
Funny that you should mention this. The REAL reason I didn't blog for over a week was because, two weeks ago, I was walking down Clark Street here in Chicago, and saw four crack addicts trying to mug and possibly sexually assault an old woman in a wheelchair.
I stepped in, and two of them had knives and it turned into a hell of a streetfight. Normally, four against one would be no problem for me, because I am a man, but they were hopped up on crack with that "I don't care if I die" look in their eyes.
The battle lasted seven minutes, but I vanquished them at last. But in doing so, I tore a shoulder muscle, and sprained a wrist. So typing is hard for me. Not that I care about pain, because, as I said, I am a man.
But what happened on that doctor's table? That wasn't pain. That was life changing.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | January 24, 2008 8:39 AM
Posted on January 24, 2008 08:39
I hate it when doctors do that on a first date.
Posted by Marc Wright | January 24, 2008 8:53 AM
Posted on January 24, 2008 08:53
Steve,
I am ashamed and humbled. Ashamed that I ever doubted your manly masculinity. Humbled and in awe that you are true giant among men.
Four crack addicts vanquished in under 10 minutes! Now that is a worthy accomplishement of a Nobel prize much more so than that bedwetter Gore.
Please forgive me Obi Wan....
Posted by Craig Jolley | January 24, 2008 9:04 AM
Posted on January 24, 2008 09:04
Wimp! I had to go back for a "spot check" mammogram a few weeks ago. What does that mean? Sounds totally benign, doesn't it? SO I asked, and got, "Well, we found a spot on your regular mammogram and we want to take another look." See? Harmless. Just a little look-see.
But no, they take the area of the breast and re-examine it with the same mammogram machine, only they smash that one area like a piece of flat bread. Seriously, I've eaten pancakes thicker than my breast at that point. I was yelling, "ow, ow, owie" (because, unlike Kristen, I don't tend to swear like a sailor) and the nurse said, "That's good. I wouldn't be doing it right if you weren't yelling."
All for naught - it was only a calcium deposit from breast feeding (damn kids - see what a bad influence Kristen is on me?) and I'm good to go. And all you had was a rectal exam???? When they take your huevos rancheros and smash them like a tortilla, THEN talk to me.
Sheesh!
Posted by Eileen | January 24, 2008 10:05 AM
Posted on January 24, 2008 10:05
Oh, and crack addicts? I would welcome them over another spot check.
Grow a pair, Crescenzo!
Posted by Eileen | January 24, 2008 10:07 AM
Posted on January 24, 2008 10:07
See Steve, don't say I didn't warn you.
Posted by Craig Jolley | January 24, 2008 10:40 AM
Posted on January 24, 2008 10:40
Eileen, I've witnessed my C cups smushed to the thickness of a fine crepe, but only through a bit of a haze. It might have been the moisture in my eyes.
Posted by Diane | January 24, 2008 11:01 AM
Posted on January 24, 2008 11:01
So, did you get the blood test too? Congratulations to you for being responsible and taking care of yourself! Question, did you really ask for the test just because Mark told you to? Or did you ask for the test because you feared what may happen if you didn’t?
In this situation, I think you reacted to Mark as if he were your parent.
Have you ever held back information from your son because what you wanted him to do was for his good? I think authority figures do it all the time. It’s not necessarily right, but it’s a means to the end. I would like to hope people are plotting for the greater good and not using this type of information omission for evil. Yes, I know CEOs, and the like, get all hopped up on power and make poor choices. (That’s therapy talk I learned from my sister-in-law.) That’s not the case here.
Love.
Posted by Jew Jew B | January 24, 2008 12:04 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 12:04
So, did you get the blood test too? Congratulations to you for being responsible and taking care of yourself! Question, did you really ask for the test just because Mark told you to? Or did you ask for the test because you feared what may happen if you didn’t?
In this situation, I think you reacted to Mark as if he were your parent.
Have you ever held back information from your son because what you wanted him to do was for his good? I think authority figures do it all the time. It’s not necessarily right, but it’s a means to the end. I would like to hope people are plotting for the greater good and not using this type of information omission for evil. Yes, I know CEOs, and the like, get all hopped up on power and make poor choices. (That’s therapy talk I learned from my sister-in-law.) That’s not the case here.
Love.
Posted by Jew Jew B | January 24, 2008 12:04 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 12:04
But the real question is, Steve, did he buy you dinner? Call you the next day?
Posted by Laurel | January 24, 2008 12:34 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 12:34
Around the time my agency was heavily investing and moving toward new technologies, I had to announce our annual health-related events; one of which was a seminar during Prostate Cancer Awareness Month. The headline:
Prostate Exam? Think Digital!
Posted by Jason | January 24, 2008 1:19 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 13:19
Ok, I'm laughing so hard that one of my coworkers came in to see what was on my screen. But seriously, as a mother of three children - and I gave birth to TWINS - I'll point out that we women (as Eileen and Jane already pointed out) are used to pain and humiliation at the doctor's office/hospital. I'll spare you the details of my first childbirth experience, except to say all the doctors-in-training got invited in to watch me in the most compromising position of my entire life. The worst mortification you've ever experienced was NOTHING in comparison. So, Steve, I think this is the perfect time to invoke a few old but wonderful cliches, including, "Take it like a man," and "You did what you had to do." You could also add, "Just close your eyes and think of England." - Amy
Posted by Amy | January 24, 2008 1:29 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 13:29
Ok, I'm laughing so hard that one of my coworkers came in to see what was on my screen. But seriously, as a mother of three children - and I gave birth to TWINS - I'll point out that we women (as Eileen and Jane already pointed out) are used to pain and humiliation at the doctor's office/hospital. I'll spare you the details of my first childbirth experience, except to say all the doctors-in-training got invited in to watch me in the most compromising position of my entire life. The worst mortification you've ever experienced was NOTHING in comparison. So, Steve, I think this is the perfect time to invoke a few old but wonderful cliches, including, "Take it like a man," and "You did what you had to do." You could also add, "Just close your eyes and think of England." - Amy
Posted by Amy | January 24, 2008 1:29 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 13:29
Oh shit...
Steve, I forgot to tell you: the doctor will order the blood test, but he'll then insist on showing his entire arm up your ass.
Posted by mark ragan | January 24, 2008 2:21 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 14:21
As hard as it might be for you to believe, Steve, that exam could have been worse. The doctor giving you the exam could have been a former childhood friend.
Yes, I speak from experience. The labor room nurse for my second trip into motherhood had lived across the alley and two doors down from me when we were kids. Loved having her check to see how far dilated I was. "Oh, and how are your folks doing?" "Ever see the Mitchell kids these days?"
Posted by Colleen (the soaring one) | January 24, 2008 2:23 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 14:23
Craig Jolley:
>>>Four crack addicts vanquished in under 10 minutes! Now that is a worthy accomplishement of a Nobel prize much more so than that bedwetter Gore.
Please forgive me Obi Wan....
You are forgiven. How could you have known?
Truth be told, I would have subdued said crack addicts in less than THREE minutes . . .but one of them stabbed me in the knee with a knife, which hindered my ability to pivot and throw my straight right.
I didn't mention that, because it didn't affect my ability to type. I still have the knife sticking out of my knee, as a reminder that these are mean streets we all walk on.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | January 24, 2008 4:33 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 16:33
Elaine, Amy, Colleen, et. al.:
I do not mean to compare my pain, suffering, and humiliation with your own.
You ladies have me at a disadvantage. I have never pushed out a child, and have never had my breasts squished (actually, that's only half true; once, in Helsinki, Jim Ylisela and I got blind drunk on absinthe, and I tackled him in the hotel corridor, and he got the better of me and ended up on top, and he's a real big guy and he squished the hell out of my breasts . . . . but I don't think that's the same thing as a mammogram).
While I have never experienced your pain . . .there is a chance that you have experienced mine. I would hope it was in a different environment (nice lighting, many, many oils and lotions, music, romance, etc.)
But, I can say, when you're NOT EXPECTING IT AND HAVE HAD NO CHANCE PREPARE YOUR PSYCHE, getting a hand rammed up your ass has to be up there with some of the worst human experiences ever.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | January 24, 2008 4:38 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 16:38
Nah, Steve, trust me - it's better not to have the time to imagine what it'll be like! Think about it - we writers have amazing imaginations, and can envision things, good and bad, that lesser mortals simply couldn't come up with.
If you'd had advance warning and time to really THINK about what was going to happen (well aside from fleeing to El Jardin at the speed of light) how much more horrific do you think you would have made it into by the appointed time?
Although, come to think of it, with the low pain threshold you boys have for this kind of stuff, you'd probably have fainted when the doctor said hello and slept through the whole thing...
So, never mind.
Posted by Kristen | January 24, 2008 5:50 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 17:50
Kristen:
You are 1,0000 percent exactly right.
Given a chance to think about it, I would have fled to Mexico.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | January 24, 2008 6:29 PM
Posted on January 24, 2008 18:29
See, Steve? It was a simple oversight on Mark's part. No harm meant or done.
Posted by Diane | January 25, 2008 9:42 AM
Posted on January 25, 2008 09:42
Steve,
That was one of the funniest blogs I ever read - no "butts" about it!!
Kelly
Posted by Kelly Kass | January 25, 2008 1:31 PM
Posted on January 25, 2008 13:31
Hey Steve,
At least if things don't work out with Ragan or Crescenzo Comm, you now have the experience to fall back on writing gay porn. ;0)
Posted by Kenyon Anderson | January 28, 2008 12:53 PM
Posted on January 28, 2008 12:53
Mooooooon Riverrrr!
Posted by michael clendenin | January 28, 2008 12:59 PM
Posted on January 28, 2008 12:59
Steve, you dumbass, next time remind him to use the lubricant.
Will
Posted by Will Daniel | January 29, 2008 1:08 PM
Posted on January 29, 2008 13:08
Michael---definitely my favorite Fletch scene, the essence of perfect comedic timing, no? =)
Posted by Laurel | January 29, 2008 1:47 PM
Posted on January 29, 2008 13:47
CRYING with laughter.
Posted by kristin MacIntosh | January 30, 2008 1:06 PM
Posted on January 30, 2008 13:06
Steve, remember that pain is just weakness leaving your body.
Posted by Caroline Gangl | January 30, 2008 2:47 PM
Posted on January 30, 2008 14:47
Will: Lubricant? Oh . . . the stuff that leaked out the rest of the day. I thought it was blood.
Caroline: I've never heard that before: pain is weakness leaving the body. I like that a lot. I'm going to use that on my son during football season.
And can we all agree that Fletch is one of the underrated movies of all time? My first cat as an adult was named "Fletch"---but I named him after the book the movie was based on, which is great.
Steve C.
Posted by Steve C. | February 1, 2008 6:40 AM
Posted on February 1, 2008 06:40
Oh, that's RICH! I just got a return message that said my blog reply was "held up" for approval by the host or some such thing. I assume it's because I inserted p*derast into the text? . . . and after all that has flown here---sheesh! LOL
Posted by Laurel | February 1, 2008 12:06 PM
Posted on February 1, 2008 12:06