OK, you’re going to have to trust me on this one: It’s a story
about leadership taking off from an Everest expedition.
What rescues it from almost certain death-by-cliche is both the high-quality
source (Knowledge @ Wharton—now available as podcasts, in case
you hadn’t heard [pun intended]), and the integrity of the people it
profiles, including the woman responsible for HR over Pfizer’s 120,000
worldwide employees, who lived the first eight years of her life destitute
on a sugar-cane farm in Puerto Rico.
I find insight in the piece by its contrast and juxtaposition of the
improbably-disadvantaged Pfizer SVP of HR with one of the world’s all-time
greatest mountain climbers who has reached the summit of Everest no fewer
than five times, the last time carrying enough IMAX camera equipment
to record the event in mall-suitable 3-D.
But more than that, it’s how these people talk about what leadership
means to them. First, the Everest/IMAX story:
"In May 1996, Breashears and his team faced a special challenge:
making an IMAX film about their journey. Carrying and maintaining hundreds
of pounds of filming equipment meant that planning was even more meticulous
than usual. “We went to that mountain with a great plan, an elegant plan,” said
Breashears. For one, it was flexible. “A good plan makes you nimble,
not stuck. Ours gave us options … wiggle room.”"By rehearsing extensive “what if” scenarios long before they got
to the mountain, the team was ready for the unexpected. So when a freak
storm hit the day they were to approach the summit, Breashears’ team
turned back while other teams kept climbing. With the summit just within
reach, the temptation to go on was enormous, Breashears recalled, especially
since the team had already spent weeks on the mountain, passing through
all four base camps and acclimatizing their lungs to the thin air. Yet,
as Breashears noted, “We had to climb on the mountain’s schedule, not
ours,” an acknowledgment
that probably saved his life."
There follows the tale of what happened to "the dead guy," a member of
one of the other groups on Everest that day that kept climbing in the teeth
of the storm, and Breashears’ own reflections on what qualities go into
leadership.
As for Sylvia Montero, the Pfizer SVP of HR, her big break came after
her family moved to New York City and her high school guidance counselor,
at a stroke, gave her the power to get beyond the "subtle messages" that
children internalize about how someone who’s poor and a member of a minority
"can’t compete" with the prosperous and well-born.
What did her guidance counselor do? Urged her to apply to Barnard; whereupon
she received a full scholarship. But by sophomore year she was
pregnant, married, and felt she was a "co-ed by day" and living "in a
drug-infested tenement" at night, commuting between her two worlds by
subway.
It was then that she decided: “I chose to actively participate
in what happened to me.”
Read that again.
Back to Breashears: Above all, as a leader he both looks
for and exemplifies humility. As to his team: “I
look for talented people who believe in their craft, not those who are
looking for praise,” he said. “The most important quality is selflessness." I
devoutly hope that "talented people who believe in their craft" describes
some of the better lawyers at your firm. And as for the leader
himself? No grand visions, thank you: Humility, again.
“The kind of leader I want wakes up and asks, ‘What did I do wrong yesterday, and how can I fix it today?’ Your team doesn’t need to like you, but they have to trust and respect you,” he said. “A leader who puts his interests first is a highly demoralizing force.”
So, beware the 800-pound gorilla rainmaker on Everest. And beware
him on Park Avenue.
