Introit

Role of Cognitive Science in Shaping Curriculum

Roger Schank recently released a tome that is very worthwhile: Teaching Minds - How Cognitive Science Can Save Our Schools. Schank is admittedly provocative, yet in a very good way. From the jacket: "Schank argues that class size, lack of parental involvement, and other commonly-cited factors have nothing to do with why students are not learning. The culprit is a system of subject-based instruction, and the solution is cognitive-based learning. This groundbreaking book defines what it would mean to teach thinking."

Schank outlines 12 cognitive process that, in his estimation, underlie learning: it's hard to see how it could be otherwise. They are:

Conceptual Processes

1. Prediction
2. Judgment
3. Experimentation
4. Evaluation

Analytic Processes

1. Diagnosis
2. Planning
3. Causation
4. Judgment

Social Processes

1. Influence
2. Teamwork
3. Negotiation
4. Describing

A key driver for Schank is that we are subject-bound when it comes to education. He states that, "If we wish to teach people, it is important to ask what cognitive capabilities we want them to have when we are done, not what we want them to know. In other words, we want to understand what we have to do in order to make them better able to think" (46).

I won't go into great detail here, but suffice it to say that much of what Schank offers would resonate with independent educators. He avows openly that he has problems with "knowledge" and "to know," as he sees them as inherently biased words -- biased toward how the system works currently.

He is compelling. I recommend this book to you because, if nothing else, it will provide for deep discussions in our schools. As a matter of fact, perhaps I'll recommend it as our next faculty reading project...

Assessment or Asset?

One of my eleven summer reading books is Cathy Davidson's tome, Now You See It: How the Brain Science of Attention Will Transform the Way We Live, Work, and Learn. Davidson offers a powerful and compelling narrative for us to re-consider how we do school, something this blog treats regularly.

 

Although I've not finished it just yet, I found the following quote to be powerful, perhaps because it is such a cogent statement for all that we read on Twitter, in blogs, in general educational literature, and what we hear at conferences:

"That is the glistening paradox of great education: It is not about answering test questions. It is about knowing that, when tested by the most grueling challenges ahead, you have the capacity to learn what is required to succeed" (85).

Shortly afterward, she states, "Put those kids [a group she had identified] in a lecture hall, give them a standardized curriculum with standardized forms of measuring achievement and ability, and they learn a different lesson. They might well master what they are supposed to learn, but that's not education. When you think of learning as something external to yourself, learning becomes a levy--an assessment, not an asset. The assessment no longer matters after the schooling stops. The asset is a resource one draws on for a lifetime" (86).

Her clarification of assessment versus asset really struck a chord in me.

I'm spending much of my summer considering how to transform my section of 9th grade history into a project-based learning class. That is no small feat, in case you're wondering. Central to this transformation is my own need to attend to assessment versus asset. I want the kids to have the asset, every time. I just need to figure out a way to get them there, while allowing for a way to measure their progress that can be translated into a meaningful grade, since we are still wedded to grades.

The (Mis)Conception of Strategic Planning in Schools

Most schools have bad strategies. At least, that's what author Richard Rumelt would say. His recently-released volume, Good Strategy, Bad Strategy, incorporates multiple examples from organizations (including schools) that highlight the difference between good strategy work and bad strategy work. Rumelt has been engaged in strategy work for over thirty years, and is no-nonsense when it comes to pointing out "strategies" that really aren't strategies. His approach works: readers learn quickly how to spot bad strategy.

I read the tome fully twice, with the critical eye of an independent school person who has been engaged for several months in research on strategic planning in our schools, including an analysis of 50+ recent strategic plans from diverse independent schools. Rumelt's work is insightful, possessing a clarity rarely encountered when it comes to strategy work. My review of Rumelt's work, therefore, contains what I intend to be constructive criticism of strategy work in independent schools. At times, I may be rather blunt; such bluntness is intended only to underscore a point.

Strategy and Strategic Plans in Schools

From the use of "blue-sky objectives" (i.e. wishful thinking) to a permafrost of educational jargon to lists of 100+ "action steps", strategic plans in independent schools fail to be effectively strategic. It would be more accurate to describe them as "comprehensive to-do lists," with the occasional item that has true strategic implications.

In independent schools, "strategic plan" is an ersatz term for what would be otherwise clear nomenclature for other kinds of plans. For what it is worth, I offer my own nomenclature below:

1. improvement plan - how a school can improve in specific areas (fundraising, curriculum, etc.) that show some degree of deficiency, relative to "best practices"
2. evolution plan - how a school evolves in order to continue to meet its mission
3. community-building plan - how a school rallies its community in order to broaden a base of support for its day-to-day work in terms of meeting its mission; acts as an emulsifying agent
4. capital campaign plan (or: resources plan) - how a school can gain insight into the feasibility of conducting a capital campaign for bricks-and-mortar, endowment, etc. An early feasibility study, in disguise.

Each plan has its time and place within a school. In most cases, it is easy to make an argument that supports the fashioning of one of these plans; they are, after all, useful in terms of articulating where a school is, institutionally. Unfortunately, schools tend to blend/blur several of the aforementioned genres, calling the result a "strategic plan", reinforcing the (mis)conception that strategy is incredibly dense and complex. In fact, the use of the term "strategic plan" only obfuscates the reality that the various pieces are not linked in an efficacious manner.

A real strategic plan, for example, would not emulate template-based strategic planning, which is what the majority of schools appear to follow: outlining the process and people involved; restating the mission, philosophy, and history of the school; outlining some goals (sometimes mislabeled "strategies"); and listing (or referring to) many 'action steps' to follow. This template has produced a level of comfort over the years...and, I would argue, complacency.

Rumelt is, if anything, clear in what he says about strategy. Permit me to highlight the areas of importance, from his perspective, when it comes to separating bad strategy from good strategy.

Bad Strategy

Rumelt writes that "bad strategy is not simply the absence of good strategy. It grows out of specific misconceptions and leadership dysfunctions." He identifies four major hallmarks of bad strategy:

1. Fluff - "a form of gibberish masquerading as strategic concepts or arguments." In other words, people tend to use "big" words that are unnecessary and refer to esoteric concepts.
2. Failure to face the challenge - "when you cannot define the challenge, you cannot evaluate a strategy or improve it."
3. Mistaking goals for strategy - "many bad strategies are just statements of desire rather than plans for overcoming obstacles."
4. Bad strategic objectives - "objectives are bad when they fail to address critical issues or when they are impracticable."

For schools, bad strategic objectives often arise in the forms of slogans or superficial statements. One example would be, "We will work to identify areas of improvement in school communications." How is that a strategy? It sounds more akin to ongoing improvment work; to elevate it to the status of a "strategy" or "strategic objective" is giving it a status it doesn't merit.

Schools, as academic communites, are also prone to using "fluff" in their plans, given that "fluff has its origins in the academic world" (37). Rumelt insists that it "masquerades as expertise, thought, and analysis" (38). A classic example that we see in schools falls along such lines as:  "we are a school with strong, bright faculty members who instill a life-long love of learning." Fluff. No esoteric terms, to be sure, but what does this phrase really say? Answer: that "we're a school." A superficial restatement of the obvious. Mind you, there's nothing wrong with reminding ourselves that we love learning and that we wish to instill a love of learning in our community, but isn't that our mission? How is it strategic? Mission does not equal strategy.

A strategy, after all, is "a way through a difficulty, an approach to overcoming an obstacle, a response to a challenge" (41). The 50+ plans I've studied in detail, in large measure, rarely portray any strategy: they're not showing a clear way through a difficulty, presenting an approach to overcome some obstacle, or responding to a challenge. For example, many recent plans [post-2007] could be reduced to the formula of "increase enrollment [aka market share], control existing costs, and look for additional sources of revenue." There might be all kinds of "texture and detail" (41) in such plans, but the elephant in the room is ignored: 1) enrollment has fallen precipitously, 2) costs are out of control, and 3) additional revenue is needed to keep the doors open. Urgency and the necessity of correcting course is the elephant in the room, but anyone reading the plan won't see it because the plan doesn't mention it! As Rumelt notes, "If you fail to identify and analyze the obstacles, you don't have a strategy. Instead, you have either a stretch goal, a budget, or a list of things you wish would happen" (42-43).

Probably the greatest example of bad strategy in schools is mistaking goals for strategy. "We will be the school of choice in [name your city/market]." Or "We will delight our community with innovative curricula." Or again, "We will work to support the surrounding community." Or perhaps, "We will research ways to offer increased benefits to our faculty and staff." Is there a point of leverage here? "A strategy is like a lever that magnifies force." Yet, in the aforementioned examples, it is clearly absent. They are not bad things, per se, yet they're not strategies; rather, they are aspirational goals. An actual strategy might read, "We will increase faculty and staff salaries by 10% within two years by increasing Annual Giving by 5%, with the result of increased attraction and retention of faculty."

In other words, don't confuse performance goals with strategy. If schools would benefit from a resource plan (or a progress plan, evolution plan, etc.), then great! Just don't call it a strategic plan. What is more, a real strategic plan is episodic at best: opportunities, challenges, and changes don't occur like clockwork every three years, five years, seven years, or ten years. They occur when they occur, and that is when schools should formulate a strategic plan.

The hard thing for schools, though, is that we must choose, i.e. we must make choices, when focusing on a true strategic plan. By choosing on what to focus, we necessarily must choose to focus on one thing (or perhaps a few), setting aside other things. When we don't do this--when we focus on 10 things--or 25 things--or a to-do list of 130 things, the result is "amorphous strategy" (59). In schools, where we struggle to please many different groups for many different reasons, the notion that we should narrow ourselves runs contrary to our existence. It is perhaps paradoxical that our schools, whose existence is predicated on choice within the market, struggle to make choices themselves. In other words, the essential difficulty in creating strategy is choice.

Good Strategy

"Good strategy works by focusing energy and resources on one, or a very few, pivotal objectives whose accomplishment will lead to a cascade of favorable outcomes" (53). It is identified by what Rumelt calls a "kernel," which contains three elements:

1. diagnosis - "simplifies the overwhelming complexity of reality by identifying certain aspects of the situation as critical" (77)
2. guiding policy - "overall approach chosen to cope with or overcome the obstacles identified in the diagnosis" (77)
3. coherent actions - "designed to carry out the guiding policy [;] steps that are coordinated with one another to work together in accomplishing the guiding policy" (77)

Rumelt identifies the kernel as "the bare-bones center of a strategy [...]. It leaves out visions, hierarchies of goals and objectives, references to time span or scope, and ideas about adaptation and change. All of these are supporting players" (79).

A good strategic diagnosis can be of the most help in an overall strategic plan. Rumelt points out the following item, which we (educators) can appreciate: "For instance, we know from research that K-12 student performance is better explained by social class and culture than by expenditures per student or class size, but that knowledge does not lead to many useful policy prescriptions" (81). In other words, if a challenge is ill-defined in a diagnosis, then the strategy to deal with the challenge will not be effective.

The guiding policy is a very useful part of one's strategy because it allows for (even encourages) flexibility. Many folks assert that the lack of flexibility is a glaring fault line within a strategic plan -- and they're right. (That's because most plans aren't truly strategic in the first place, if that message hasn't come through yet...). It "channels action in certain directions without defining exactly what shall be done" (84). Such a policy defines "a method of grappling with the situation and ruling out a vast array of possible actions" (84). The problem with vision statements, by contrast, is that they don't spell out clearly how an ambition will be accomplished. As schools, we're big on vision statements; however, have we truly considered the "chatter" within a faculty (and even administration) about how hard it is to accomplish the vision? We tend to chalk it up to internal differences (or something else that poorly defines the real problem: a lack of strategy). Happily, though, "a guiding policy creates advantage by anticipating the actions and reactions of others, by reducing the complexity and ambiguity in the situation, by exploiting the leverage inherent in concentrating effort on a pivotal or decisive aspect of the situation, and by creating policies and actions that are coherent, each building on the other rather than canceling one another out" (85).

Strategy is about action--about doing something, so the kernel of a strategy "must contain action." What is notable is that the coherent action "does not need to point to all the actions that will be taken as events unfold, but there must be enough clarity about action to bring concepts down to earth" (87). These actions focus organizational energy. By focusing on the necessity of acting, schools can retain clarity about what is--and is not--important, and plans can be abbreviated to a more manageable size.

Wrapping It Up: Toward a Future of Strategy Work in Schools

The term "strategic" seems to refer frequently to decisions that are made by top management: boards, heads of school, and, sometimes, senior administrators. I submit that we over-use (abuse?) the term to mean top-level decision-making, and, as a result, the adjective has lost its clarity over time.

Policy and design, generated by strategy, impose coherence on a system; in our case, on schools. Strategic design, therefore, is an "engineering of fit among parts, specifying how actions and resources will be combined" (92). This design benefits from the specification of what Rumelt terms a proximate objective. This objective imposes power (clear, feasible, short-term, and resolving ambiguity) over the natural workings of a system, in order to obtain a desired result. It does not look far ahead; rather, it forces the institution to take a strong position and create options, not conjecture about the unknown, which point can be met by additional strategy work when it occurs.

Rumelt goes on to discuss the importance and relevance of power, leverage, hierarchies of objectives, and the issues with what he calls "chain-link systems" in the remainder of his tome. What he returns to, though, is the importance of design in strategy. I recommend enthusiastically the section on 'the arc of enterprise" (pp. 134-141), in which he discusses how long-successful incumbents tend to decline, and how to look at companies/institutions that invade market space, if one wishes to see effective, design-type strategy.

It is my belief that independent schools would benefit from moving toward design-type strategy, or what I would term strategic design, in order to better craft and integrate our actions and policies--in other words, to become truly strategic.

The next stage of research, I think, lies in exploring what design-type strategy might mean, by linking design-thinking with the corpus of research on which Rumelt draws so eloquently and convincingly. As he writes, "Good strategy is design, and design is about fitting various pieces together so they work as a coherent whole" (141). The threats to schools aren't necessarily "specific new products or competitive moves", but "changes that undermine the logic of [their] design[s]" (141).

Importance of 'Inner Work Life'

I've begun to read a new tome entitled, The Progress Principle, which centers on the notion of "using small wins to ignite joy, engagement, and creativity at work."

The question arises early on: "How [can] companies possibly aspire to [the] double nirvana of business success and employee delight" (1)

"The secret is creating the conditions for great inner work life--the conditions that foster positive emotions, strong internal motivation, and favorable perceptions of colleagues and the work itself. Great inner work life is about the work, not the acoutrements. It starts with giving people something meaningful to accomplish [...]. It requires giving clear goals, autonomy, help, and resources--what people need to make real progress in their daily work. And it depends on showing respect for ideas and the people who create them." (1-2)

Sounds like many independent schools we know, doesn't it?! As schools, we get this. It's fundamental to who we are.

Based on 12,000 (!) daily journal reports (full stats available in the book), the authors discovered the following:

• people are more creative and productive when deeply engaged in their work, when they feel happy, and when they think highly of their coworkers, managers, and organizations (3)
• when the inner work life is positive, people are more committed to their work, and are more likely to work well with colleagues (3)

Again, I think that good independent school leadership knows, recognizes, and affirms that. Although schools have known it for years, it has been largely anecdotal, i.e. difficult to quantify. What these authors do, however, is to provide a study that combines work habits and psychology to show that inner work life is a principal driver for people...and for organizations.

The danger for schools, of course, is if they don't foster a positive inner work life. Schools that cannot recognize this principle, I think, will wallow in the rigors of mediocrity, at best; at worst, they will collapse.

Poke the Box

Seth Godin's latest book--a small book, even a manifesto--is called Poke the Box. You can watch his video about the book here.

I ordered it on Wednesday, received it Friday, and read it over the weekend during a series of fits and starts. Had I been able to carve out some time to sit down and read it, I would have read it straight through in a little over an hour. It is pithy and precise, with one simple message: "Go!"

Godin's point is that the world needs people to take the initiative, to start something...to go!

In particular, I enjoyed his rant on schools. Regarding "starting": "It's not in the curriculum, is it? [...] I often encourage kids to start their own clubs, organize their own extracurricular groups. They never do. It's not supposed to be that way, they say. Is it any wonder we teach this mindset? Factories and mangers don't want spunk, or even innovation. They generally seek compliance" (70).

Go ahead. Poke the box. Initiate. See what happens. Try again.

On Power: Book Review

Jeff Pfeffer's recently-released book, Power, is a must-read for school folks who are seeking to understand how "power" (as a concept) is sought, gained, and utilized within an organization; moreover, it is especially useful for those readers who would like to increase their own centrality within an organization. Pfeffer is an expert on organizational behavior at Stanford University, and his expertise is abundantly evident in this immensely readable tome. A very nice twist, however, is that Pfeffer goes out of his way to show readers how to acquire more power within their organizations. To do so is not rocket science; it deals with being purposeful and methodical.

Power, as Pfeffer points out, is not a bad thing in and of itself. It exists in every organization, and it is a fact of organizational life that cannot be disputed. Even those schools that would fancy themselves as non-power schools have powerful individuals inside: it could be upper school science teacher whom everyone considers as the center of that division's life, the middle school music teacher without whose support the schedule won't work properly, or the lower school grade-level teacher who is [you fill in the blank]. Dealing with power is something we must all do, and Pfeffer suggests that you (yes, you!) acquire more of it, should you wish to aid in effecting change at any level.

You don't need to be a senior administrator to have power, however; anyone can have it. As he underscores, however, should you choose to seek professional advancement someday, you will need it; or, at the very least, your chances for promotion will increase if you have it.

Part sociological observation, part self-help manual, Pfeffer's book is very helpful in understanding where power comes from, where it resides, and how one can increase one's power. An unexpected outcome, perhaps, is that the book also serves to point out (in the reader's mind) those folks in schools who desparately desire power, but who lack it in abundance...and the reader can see clearly why those folks lack power, even if they are in senior positions. A frequent culprit is intelligence: the notion that being smart somehow automatically earns you power. Wrong! You can be the most intelligent person in the room, but be the least powerful as well.

The best leaders, Pfeffer suggests, are those who understand the role that power plays--in getting them into top leadership positions, in exercising their influence to effect change, and to do good unto others by helping them to expand their power.

Power = influence and centrality within an organization and/or an industry. It doesn't have to be negative.

Review of The Shallows

"Our focus on a medium's content can blind us [...]. We're too busy being dazzled or disturbed by the programming to notice what's going on inside our heads" (3)

Nicholas Carr has written a thoughtful and sometimes provocative book about our use of the Internet, suggesting that not only is it our servant, "it is also our master" (4). His point is well-taken, yet it is difficult to believe that such statements could come from Carr, who is just as "connected" as so many of us (perhaps not so ironically, I'm writing about this book on a blog...). He has written for Wired, The Atlantic, and other magazines, and writes elsewhere about technology.

His thesis is that the Internet, where we consume so much information, serves not just as our information center, but is, in a sense, beginning to redefine how our brains process information and think about things, generally. In other words, it affects our higher-order thinking skills: how we analyze and synthesize, contemplate and reflect. It's as if the Internet is rewiring our brains, meaning that our ability to imagine is being altered.

Carr delves into the history of some well-known thinkers as well as the history of technological innovations (such as the movable print press or the typewriter) and how they altered history. He strives to show the human elements that remained resilient during those periods. What is important in these vignettes, though, is how he ends up relating historical research on brain development to larger, technological developments. He makes the reader consider what might be at stake for the human brain when a new technology becomes quite ubiquitous. His major assertion relates to the malleable brain; that the brain has a tremendous plasticity that allows it to be re-organized (re-wired, if you will). That, he points out, has consequences. Happily, though, he also underscores that, "That doesn't mean that we can't, with concerted effort, once again redirect our neural signals and rebuild the skills we've lost" (35).

Carr is concerned about the distraction of our minds. "The constant distractedness that the Net encourages [...] is very different from the kind of temporary, purposeful diversion of our mind that refreshes our thinking when we're weighing a decision. The Net's cacophony of stimuli short-circuits both conscious and unconscious thought, preventing our minds from thinking either deeply or creatively" (119). What is more, the Net disrupts our brain's long-term memory because we don't deal with information in our working memory; the Net encourages the use of short-term memory, meaning that most information doesn't arrive at the working memory center, let alone in our long-term memory.

Although I agree with him on the notion of the Net disrupting long-term memory and working memory, I don't think that we've got a lost cause on our hands. Instead, from an educator's point of view, I think we have an opportunity to harness the power of the Internet and bend it to our human will, if that makes sense. As adults, we may be a "crunch generation" in regards to technology (the Internet in particular): we're crunched because the Internet took us by storm, we are continuing to deal with it -- and be overwhelmed by it, and we're trying to figure out how to master it. Therein lies the opportunity. Can we take control of the medium, and re-orient it to allow us to continue to benefit from those higher-order thinking skills that characterize us as human beings? It is imperative that we do so. Otherwise, we may devolve into having "the mental life of a sea slug" (187).

Carr seems to recognize the same thing in his epilogue, where he points out the outstanding problem with computers (in general): they don't make judgments; they follow unyielding rules. They will miss a moment of brilliance because they lack human adaptability and reaction; instead, they would identify a moment of (potential) brilliance as a deviation from the formulas that make their programs run.

In other words, we need to be purposeful about our humanity, even though we co-exist with rapidly-changing technology that is altering our human experience.

To thine own self be true!

Review of Good Boss, Bad Boss

 

Bob Sutton, professor at Stanford University, has published a book that is sure to be of interest to current and aspiring leaders in independent schools. Good Boss, Bad Boss is a sequel to his last book, drawing on the many questions posed in emails, blogs, articles, and ongoing conversations about what constitutes a good boss, a bad boss, and the culture of the workplaces they inhabit/direct. His work is directed by three basic questions:

1. If you want to be a Good Boss, what do you need to accomplish day after day?
2. If you have a Bad Boss, what can you do about it?
3. In short, what are the hallmarks of a Good Boss...and worst flaws of a Bad Boss?

Sutton's popular prose and use of real-life case studies allows the reader an inside look at what the best bosses do. Just as significant, however, he sheds light on institutional culture and how the Boss affects that culture, vertically and horizontally. School leaders (current or aspiring) will find much of interest in this book, as evidenced in the chapter synopsis below.

Chapter Synopsis

Chapter 1: The Right Mindset

Being a good boss creates a healthy environment (quite literally). Studies have shown that, when someone has an immediate supervisor who is good at what s/he does, there is a lower percentage risk for getting a heart attack. What is more, a good boss has "more impact on engagement and performance than whether their companies are rated as great or lousy places to work" (17). Independent school educators know, as Sutton points out, that "the leader of an organization [the Head of School, in our case] still matters more than the other bosses", however (18). This person sets the tone for how everyone else behaves. William Coyne, a man who led the r&d efforts at 3M for over one decade, said, "After you plant a seed in the ground, you don't dig it up every week to see how it is doing" (23); truly a great analogy for how independent school educators would like to be treated by their immediate manager(s) as well as by the Head! For Sutton, all can be summed up in two words: performance and humanity.

Chapter 2: Take Control

"Bosses matter, especially to their immediate followers and in small teams and organizations" (47). Schools certainly qualify as small organizations, though a few are rather large. Sutton focuses on "what it takes to magnify the illusion and reality" that the boss is in control of what the follwers "do, how well they perform, and how they feel along the way" (47). He points out that bosses need to act as if they are in control even when they aren't, since confidence (i.e., the confidence of being in control) is contagious and spreads to employees. He also suggests that bosses should say "yes" or "no" rather than be ambiguous (except in those circumstances when ambiguity is called for!). Also important are giving credit to others, blaming yourself when things go wrong, and being aware of powers and limits (good bosses know how to influence the events that surround them rather than try to control every single aspect of them). His list of "Tricks for Taking Charge" are spot-on.

Chapter 3: Strive to Be Wise

Sutton states that "the best bosses dance on the edge of overconfidence, but a healthy dose of self-doubt and humility saves them from turning arrogant and pigheaded" (71). He provides an "attitude of wisdom" list on p. 73 that contrasts smart bosses and wise bosses, showing how the wise boss is a much more magnanimous leader with a large number of followers. Wise bosses, he suggests, provide psychological safety, allowing failure and learning as part of the job. Sutton and Jeff Pfeffer have provided a great diagnostic question for assessing how a boss is handling psychological safety: "What happens when people make mistakes or fail?" The answer tells much about an organization. A wise boss also likes a "good fight," i.e., when people fight--with mutual respect--over ideas, they are more productive and creative (83). He proffers a list of ten things the good boss should observe when leading a good fight. Sutton's biggest beef, perhaps, is the one he terms the "participation trap," meaning that some well-meaning bosses involve too many people in too many decisions (often the wrong decisions), and this involvement tends to anger people. The wise boss also deals with his/her achilles heel(s): personal ignorance, weak skills, and/or character flaws. In short, they do something about it. As a result, they are better able to practice empathy with their employees. He ends the chapter with a list of eleven commandments for wise bosses (97-98).

Chapter 4: Stars and Rotten Apples

Sutton prompts readers to determine who the stars are within an organization, and whether they enhance or hinder the other employees' performance and/or humanity (103).Sadely, many bosses institute a reward system for those "rotten apples," i.e., the stars who are egomaniacs; in the end, companies have less cooperation and collaboration than they did previously, when just the opposite is needed. He even includes an Evaluation Gauge for Obnoxious Superstars at the end of the chapter, if readers would care to see how their workplace fares! In short, Sutton suggests that good bosses "bring on the energizers" (108), since people can affect the kind of energy and enthusiasm a workplace houses. Rotten apples, he says, are incredibly destructive to an organization; there are many kind of rotten apples, and their negative interactions impact relationships by a greater margin because "bad is stronger than good." The real losers (the real rotten apples, in other words) need to be cut loose.

Chapter 5: Link Talk and Action

Bob is well-known for his work on the "smart-talk trap," a term that describes what happens in organizations when people know what needs to be done, but keep talking about it, posing questions, prolonging any discussion, without moving toward action. The bottom line is: "understand the work you manage--or get out of the way." If you understand it, you can defer--quite successfully--to the expertise of those around you, and they will support your leadership even more. Bob believes in keeping things simple (the KISS principle) and in doing what is right, not what everyone else does! The recipe for success in linking talk and action is, first, to create "hot emotions" around some challenge and, second, to steer "all that passion to 'cool,' or rational, solutions (149). At the end of the chapter, he offers a list of tips and tricks for eradicating impediments to action in any organization.

Chapter 6: Serve as a Human Shield

"The best bosses let the workers do their work. They protect people from red tape, meddlesome executives, nosy visitors, unneccessary meetings, and a host of other insults, intrusions and time wasters" (154). A good boss, as Bob suggests, "takes pride in serving as a human shield, absorbing and deflecting heat from superiors and customers, doing all manner of boring and silly tasks, and battling back against every idiot and slight that makes life unfair or harder than necessary on his or her charges" (154). One fun idea that Bob proposes is the stand-up meeting; the discomfort associated with remaining standing for the duration of a meeting is that business tends to be completed more quickly! It becomes highly efficient and more frequent; therefore, more productive and even more transparent. Good bosses "focus their attention, and their people's efforts, on the small number of things that matter most" (172). The irony in this approach, of course, is that the better the boss and the organization, the less bosses need to shield their people, as Bob points out at the end of the chapter. Good schools already know and implement this practice.

Chapter 7: Don't Shirk the Dirty Work

"Every boss must do things that upset and hurt people. [...] If you can't or won't perform such unpleasant chores, perhaps you shouldn't be the boss. Or, if you still want the job, you better recruit someone else to do your dirty work" (181). Many school folks who contemplate moving into school leadership roles hesitate when it comes to the dirty work. We believe in the intrinsic value of each person within the school, and it is a difficult thing to consider that one may have to reprimand a colleague, fire someone, deny budget requests, write an honest and harsh evaluation, give up ground in a program that one holds near and dear, and so forth. As Sutton says ,"the best bosses don't delay or duck difficult deeds" (181). Lousy bosses, he points out, live in a "fantasyland of denail and delusion. They are remarkably adept at inventing excuses for putting off gut-wrenching work. They may talk tough but lack the courage to confront employees with negative feedback, punishments, or other bad news" (182). Having said all that, it is vital that the good boss take care of business by following several maxims: be predictable, be understanding, maintain control, have compassion. Bob finished the chapter with the "12 commandments of bosses' dirty work," a solid list of do's and don't's.

Chapter 8: Squelch Your Inner Bosshole

Common features to the job of being boss--such as power, performance pressure, and exhaustion--lend themselves to turning bosses into what Sutton terms a "bosshole." You can imagine the second word that contributes to the assimilated term. Bosses, he posits, are "notoriously poor at evaluating their own performance. The worst bosses ignore or deny any hint that they suffer from this gap or other blind spots. The best take seriously how others judge them--and accept the uncomfortable fact that followers' perceptions are often more valid than their own" (212). He references a non-scientific survey that he created, called the ARSE Test, which over 200,000 people have completed online, as a means of determining how egregious their actions might be (or whether they are model bosses). Bob links bossholes with bullying in the workplace, as the majority of such bullying originates from people who are "certified a**holes," he says. He suggests that leaders calculate the TCA (Total Cost of A**holes) in their organizations as a means of determining whom to reform or expel. One person identified in a TCA ended up costing a group $160,000 in just one year! He finishes the chapter by providing an 11-point list, all tips for squelching your inner jerk (if you have one!), or  your boss's inner jerk, should you be thinking of your superior.

Chapter 9: It's All About You

 "If you are a boss, your success depends on staying in tune with how others think, feel, and react to you" (244). The best bosses, he says, "focus on controlling their moods and moves, accurately interpreting their impact on others, and making adjustments on the fly because they want their people to produce work that others will admire--and to feel respect and dignity along the way" (246). An emphasis on people and connections will go a long way, something that resonates with school folks. As Bob says, "If forced to pick the most crucial question in Good Boss, Bad Boss, I would ask: 'are you in tune with what it feels like to work for you?' (248).

Summary

Sutton has produced an immensely readable tome that underscores the humanity involved in being a leader within an organization. For those of us in schools, that should go without saying, and it usually does. The last chapter, I would argue, is crucial to leadership: know thyself, following the advice of the Oracle at Delphi. This sense of the "inner boss" is quasi-spiritual, at the very least, and it would behoove leaders to work with someone (i.e, executive coach or similar) as a means of being attentive to keeping an even keel. Schools have become more complex to manage, and it takes a confident, self-aware leader to be a good boss.