A Passion for Leadership (16 page)

There are a number of ways to enforce accountability. If someone is simply not up to his job, a leader should move him to another job he can do—or at least get him out of the way until a permanent solution can be found. Onetime lapses might earn an oral or written reprimand or, in the private sector, some financial consequence like loss of a bonus. But if a subordinate is purposely trying to undercut what you are doing or has allowed a major problem to develop without acting, then you must be willing to fire the individual. If rules and regulations prevent you from actually firing the culprit, then relegate that person to an empty office in the basement. While that may be extreme, the point is to send a message to the rest of the organization that negligence, incompetence, or obstructionism will not be tolerated. It is demoralizing to any organization when employees—especially younger ones—see there are no consequences for failure or mediocrity. Why work harder (or smarter) if everyone is treated the same, regardless of performance?

It is always easier to fire or discipline a low-level employee than a supervisor or senior manager, but for any leader it is those high-level folks who need to know they will be held accountable for performance because they are precisely the ones upon whom a leader must depend if his efforts are to be successful. If high-level employees are underperforming or resistant to change, they must go, and the leader must be the one to act. It is the price of being an agent of change.

Does holding people accountable and being willing to fire senior executives create fear? A veteran Washington journalist once told me that I was one of the few secretaries actually to run the Department of Defense. He went on to opine that was because I had people “scared to death.” I certainly did not intend for that to happen, but I suppose that because almost no one in D.C. ever gets fired for anything, my willingness to do just that on several occasions probably did create apprehension and fear. Creating fear is not, in my view, a constructive leadership tool. But if it is the consequence of simply holding people accountable for unsatisfactory performance, then so be it.

I want to offer one cautionary note in that vein. Too many new bosses, especially at senior levels, arrive looking for someone to fire just to demonstrate they are in charge and willing “to hold people accountable.” They
want
to create fear upon arrival. With just two exceptions, I never fired anyone in my early weeks in a new job. I gave everyone the opportunity to prove himself or herself under new leadership. Firing someone in one's first days as boss in a bureaucracy looks more like muscle flexing or showing off than leadership. There may be occasions when it is called for, but I'd be very careful about doing so.

I fired, moved out of the way, or reprimanded a number of senior people over the course of my career. In every case, I had to take action against someone I liked personally. Every time, it was hard. Only a few times had anyone done something I considered egregious. Most of the time, I simply concluded the individual was not up to the job to which he or she had been assigned or promoted. I think the toughest personnel decision a leader faces—in government or business—is when he realizes that someone who has given years, often decades, of faithful and competent service does not have the requisite skills to help take the organization to the next level of excellence or just does not have the right background to take on the tasks ahead.

The cost of leaving such people in place is just too high. Replacing them is a challenge peculiar to leaders charged with reform. Performance that might be tolerable in maintaining the status quo won't do in a time of transformative change.

This is where the leader must be held accountable: Is he prepared to tell a long-serving, hardworking, competent person that he does not have the ability to take his organization to the next level and therefore must retire (or take a nonsupervisory position)? This is, in some ways, the supreme test for the agent of change. It must be done, but done with as gentle a hand as possible. If the person is too young to retire or unwilling to do so, can a place be found as a senior adviser or counselor or some other role that allows a graceful transition out? During the first couple of years I led the analytical directorate of the CIA, I felt I had to replace a number of office directors. I found alternative positions for every single one; none had to leave the agency. Similarly, at A&M, as described earlier, I made departures as easy as possible in all but one or two cases where I felt an immediate change was needed. The entire organization and many stakeholders will be watching how a leader handles the removal of “old hands,” an action most will probably agree must be done but with proper recognition and appreciation of past service rendered.

Historically, it has been characteristic of Americans—from the beginning of the Republic—to question authority and, when given direction or orders, to ask why. One of the greatest strengths of American soldiers throughout time has been the ability and willingness to think for themselves and to act independently when necessary. If anything, our modern culture has intensified skepticism of authority figures—bosses. Respect for authority, deference of any kind, is not automatic but earned. Cynicism is allayed only by deeds and proven integrity over time.

Experience with bosses who were arrogant and autocratic (or timid and indecisive), as well as with egotists, incompetents, fakers, and blowhards, has given most people in bureaucracies a very tough hide and a deeply skeptical attitude toward their leaders. Yet these are the very people a leader must persuade to believe in the importance of and need for reform and to follow wholeheartedly. The suggestions in the foregoing chapters—and this one in particular—are intended to provide ways to break through that skepticism and bring those career professionals to support what a reform leader seeks to accomplish.

To change bureaucracies effectively, a leader must first make his people proud and eager to excel. Particularly in public bureaucracies, where financial reward for performance is rare and difficult, a leader must rely primarily on intangible incentives to motivate. A leader must believe the task before her—the reforms she seeks—is important before she can persuade others to believe it. She must manifest pride in the organization before she can inculcate it in others. She must have a positive, eager attitude if she expects the same from her subordinates. If people are to be transferred or let go, it must be done as humanely as possible.

In today's America, if a leader wants to inspire excellence, she must model it herself. She must treat her employees with respect and dignity, empower them, tell them the truth, trust them, and hold them accountable. She won't get through to everyone, but she will influence enough people to accomplish her goals. Only the people who work for you can bring about the transformational changes you seek.

L
eaders of organizations, especially large ones, hear voices. Lots of them. A cacophony. They are the voices of myriad groups and individuals who have—or want—a say in how institutions important to them are run. As I alluded to earlier, they may be legislators, boards of directors, community officials, boards of regents, retirees, alumni, the media, unions, employees, lower-level managers, students, customers, vendors, lobbyists, professional organizations, accrediting boards, investigative bodies, regulators from every level of government, activist organizations, political groups, and on and on. All the voices have different interests, authority, points of view, and agendas. Some will have formal responsibilities for an organization; many will have none. But all can be considered stakeholders and will demand attention and satisfaction. While the private sector and its bureaucracies hear many of these voices, public institutions are nearly overwhelmed by them and the time they consume. They get particularly stirred up by an agenda for change.

However demanding the stakeholders, a leader's success depends on cultivating positive relationships with them. She may not need or want their “help.” She may not even like or respect them. But she likely cannot survive the open hostility of most. She must make time for them, and she must—dare I say it again—listen to them, if not always agree with them. A leader should never lose sight of the fact that some of these voices, annoying as they are at times, can actually be helpful.

Of all the stakeholders associated with public bureaucracies, elected oversight bodies—local school boards, city and county council members, state legislatures, Congress—are the most important.

Regardless of personal feelings and views, a leader must invest the time necessary to develop positive relationships with elected officials and exercise the personal discipline to avoid creating hostility and enmity. Their ability to stymie a leader's efforts is scarily broad, and she forgets that at her peril. Simply put, the leader of a public organization cannot succeed without the support of its elected overseers.

The place to start is cultivating a strong relationship with senior legislative leaders, especially those with direct oversight responsibilities. As CIA director, I initiated biweekly private meetings with the leaders of the two congressional intelligence committees, keeping them informed of everything I was doing and all matters relating to intelligence activities—an unprecedented breadth and depth of communication. It built great trust.

Reaching out to other leaders in legislative bodies also pays dividends, sometimes in unexpected ways. As DCI, I met one-on-one with senior members of Congress such as the Senate Appropriations Committee chairman Robert Byrd, the House Banking Committee chairman Henry González, and the House Judiciary Committee chairman Jack Brooks. Though they did not lead the intelligence oversight committees, they still had enormous influence over issues that mattered a great deal to the intelligence community. Brooks and González had been trying to get my predecessors to testify in front of their committees for ages, and with a handshake agreement limiting the scope of my testimony, I agreed to appear, thus earning brownie points on the Hill that would later come in quite handy. (Brooks even gave me some of his wife's home-baked chocolate chip cookies.)

In early 1992, not long after I became DCI,
The
Washington Post
published an editorial accusing Senator Byrd of forcing the CIA to build a billion-dollar logistics facility in West Virginia—just another example, according to the
Post,
of Byrd's using his position as chairman of appropriations to get more “pork” for his state. Now, in fact, Byrd was the “king of pork” when it came to getting federal dollars for his state. But in this rare instance, he was innocent; the CIA had sought his support for the facility and told him they would locate it in West Virginia, figuring that was the only way the agency would get the money. I called Byrd and volunteered to write a letter to the editor of the
Post
informing him of the facts. There was a long silence at the other end of the line, and finally he said, “You'd do that for me?” I said that I would. When my letter was published, Byrd thanked me profusely. Other senators told me he subsequently would tell Senate colleagues, “That Mr. Gates at CIA is an honorable man.” This small gesture made Byrd my friend and personal ally on the Hill for the rest of my time as DCI and then as secretary of defense fifteen years later, despite his fervent opposition to the Iraq War in general and the 2007 troop surge in particular.

Few executive branch officials got along with these three powerful old lions of Capitol Hill, but I invested the time, and it paid off repeatedly.

It's also worthwhile to take time to do special (legitimate and appropriate) favors for important politicians and legislators. As DCI, I did an event for the chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee David Boren at the Cowboy Hall of Fame in his home state of Oklahoma. Also as DCI, I agreed to appear at a special hearing of the committee in Fairbanks, Alaska, for its vice-chair Frank Murkowski. (It was summer and I just happened to be vacationing at home in the Pacific Northwest, so doing this favor for him in his home state wasn't
that
big a deal.) And I offered a ride on the CIA plane to Representative Lee Hamilton of Indiana when we were to appear together at a speaking event. (That trip was a classic case of miscommunication. Indiana University was in Hamilton's congressional district, and I had earned a master's degree there. It was only when the plane turned north out of Washington, D.C., that we learned we had both unwittingly accepted an invitation from Indiana University of Pennsylvania.) Anytime a top leader can speak in a member's district or elevate his or her profile at home, he will bank credit.

Developing special relationships with key members of the state legislature should be a no-brainer for the head of any public university or any local or state enterprise. Not much attention had been paid to state senator Steve Ogden, who represented the district in which A&M was located, an especially serious oversight because he chaired the Texas Senate Finance Committee. Before I even arrived in College Station, I called Ogden and asked him to be my mentor on legislative matters inasmuch as I was new to Texas. I had no “asks,” which I think made him more receptive to my initiative. He was quite smart and influential, and we developed a strong relationship that benefited the university the entire time I was there. I also cultivated the leaders of the higher education committees in the state legislature, another no-brainer.

I won an additional strong supporter in the state senate, Royce West, an African-American who represented a large district in the Dallas area. During my first week on campus, he called me to a hearing in Austin focused on A&M's wretched record in contracting with “historically underutilized businesses,” that is, minority-owned firms. I told him I would fix it and within a few months could point to considerable progress. He never forgot that I had delivered on my promise and would be an important defender when I announced my unorthodox approach to improving campus diversity.

When traveling around Texas as president of A&M, I would often invite local state legislators—and other local leaders as well—to university-sponsored community events. While at A&M, I agreed to an invitation from the legendary former Texas governor Dolph Briscoe (a Democrat and devoted University of Texas alumnus) to speak to new Eagle Scouts in his hometown of Uvalde.

I wrote very critically in my book
Duty
about Congress, expressing quite directly my disgust with how it did its business—or didn't. However, I think most senators and representatives were surprised by what I said because I had worked so hard at hiding my feelings when I was secretary of defense and, in fact, had worked quite successfully with Congress in that role. I was cordial, respectful, candid, responsive, and conciliatory. Because that kind of behavior was required to get what I wanted and needed from Congress, I had to bury my real feelings very deep. As a result, I had an unusually productive working relationship with the congressional leadership and the four committees (two in each house—Armed Services and Appropriations) with primary jurisdiction over the Department of Defense. I was aided indirectly by the fact that my predecessor as defense secretary, fairly or not, was viewed as openly contemptuous and dismissive of members of Congress of both parties, who were all too happy to see him go. So, admittedly, I had a relatively low bar to clear, at least at the beginning.

As secretary of defense, I would routinely visit members of Congress in their offices, where they would often have photographs taken of me greeting some of their local constituents. For the record, most of them serve lousy coffee.

Whether the elected oversight body is a town or city council, state legislature, or Congress, the leader of a public bureaucracy is well advised to follow the path I took in terms of respect and conciliation. Their members can make a leader's life miserable if they smell disrespect or arrogance because such bodies not only provide the money, but can summon a leader to countless hearings, cut his budget, stall his appointments, publicly berate him, and so much more. The Geneva Convention rules don't begin to cover what annoyed legislators and other elected officials can do to uncooperative, disrespectful leaders of bureaucracies.

Almost every government entity at every level has people, places, and events legislators are eager to know, tour, or experience. The opportunities are legion for a leader to reach out. It's best for the leader to get legislators on her turf when the legislature is in recess (so there is ample time and no interruptions) and she is not asking them for anything. Call it “gardening,” as a former secretary of state used to say about routine diplomacy. (Forget the obvious wisecracks about fertilizer.)

Granted, all this politicking is a pain in the ass. But paying attention to key legislators, building strong relationships with them, investing time with them outside hearings, showing them respect, and building them up in front of their constituents are important investments that pay off in diverse ways. They can result in support for funding or problem avoidance. A leader, when appropriate and relevant, also should cultivate cordial relationships with key staff members of important legislators. They can be immensely influential and, like their bosses, have egos that like to be stroked. Think of such relationship building as an insurance policy; it may have little immediate value but can pay off later.

There are some absolute no-no's for a leader—regardless of whether in the public or the private sector—in dealing with elected officials. Never, ever lie to them or mislead them. Never embarrass them in front of their peers or the public. Never promise something you can't deliver. A leader must never be disrespectful or offensive in a hearing, no matter how ugly the elected inquisitors might be. Never speak critically of them publicly (unless as a leader you are leaving or have left your job and don't want another). A leader has to avoid placing them in situations that are potentially compromising ethically (free tickets and such); a legislator may be at fault for the breach, but he won't forget the leader who put him in harm's way. One other thing: A leader must never forget that legislators are elected by the same people he has been appointed to serve. They are the people's representatives and, for that reason alone, warrant a leader's respect and deference, however hard that sometimes is.

Leaders in the private sector can benefit from the foregoing recommendations as well. The no-no's certainly apply, but so do the suggestions for establishing relationships when you're not facing a problem with Congress, a state legislature, or local elected councils and when you are not asking them for anything. The private sector has to be especially cautious when it comes to plane rides, gifts, and so on, but invitations to company-sponsored local charitable events, celebrations, tours, and briefings all potentially offer opportunities to reach out and establish relationships.

Leaders in mature industries in America have long recognized the need to maintain close and cordial relationships with legislative bodies at every level of government. One of the primary purposes of each of thousands of private sector trade associations is to promote legislation advantageous to their respective industry and to prevent deleterious actions. Lobbyists and governmental-affairs employees are paid to do the same thing and to establish the kinds of relationships I have been writing about—and to prevent their CEO from being hauled into a hearing and made a public whipping boy or girl. New industries, such as tech and Internet companies, for too long thought they could ignore politics and politicians and just focus on changing the world. They, too, have gradually awakened to the difficulty legislators can cause them and have joined their more-established business counterparts in hiring substantial representation in state capitals and Washington. My advice to the leaders of all major companies is to get more personally involved in this process, spend some of your own time getting to know key legislators—especially before you need them. And make sure your subordinates and staff dealing with legislators follow the “to dos” and “no-no's” I have described here.

And a lesson for all, but especially those in business: For heaven's sake, if called before an elected body to testify, be modest, truthful, humble, and forthright. Be mindful of the political and public context of your presence at the hearing. Remember why you are there. If you are seeking a multibillion-dollar bailout, drive a car or take a Greyhound bus to Washington, not a flock of corporate jets as auto executives did in 2009. The lions in the congressional Colosseum feasted well that day. That's an extreme example of cluelessness, but whether it's a town council, a state legislature, or Congress, business and public sector leaders must use common sense and behave appropriately in light of the circumstances they face. As the military would say, in front of an elected body, a leader needs to minimize his target profile.