Another question is, How do we create networks of trust that allow for diversity? As an anthropologist, I've learned that, primordially, trust is formed around the campfire. Trust is all about homogeneity: You look like me, you dress like me, you talk like me -- I can trust you. But today, if I'm going to learn something new, I've got to trust people who are different from me -- and that means diversity. Not diversity for reasons of political correctness, but for reasons of innovation. The challenge today is to build networks of diversity that fuel innovation, even when our primordial instincts tell us otherwise.
Ron Cappello: Here's my story about trust. I wanted to do some work with an Argentine company, so I sent some material down there to present our qualifications. When I called to see if our materials had arrived, I was told that we weren't being considered for the job -- because of a man in New York who was screening the candidates. I called this man, and he told me that he'd rejected us because, four years before, he'd been fired from one of our parent group's companies. Period.
I told him that I understood how he felt, but that our company hadn't even been part of the group four years ago. I asked him if we could at least have lunch, since we were both in New York. There was a long pause, and then he agreed to meet me -- the next day.
At lunch, he told me that he was still angry at how he'd been treated. I told him that I didn't blame him. I also told him why he should consider us for the job. The next day, he called to say that he'd agreed to have lunch because he'd hoped that I'd turn out to be a jerk. Since I wasn't a jerk, he would now consider us for the project.
That made me wonder, How can I get this man to trust me? I could tell that he was a sensitive person, and while he was willing to give me a chance, he really didn't know me. So I called him back and made a simple proposal: I'm going to guarantee that you and your client will be satisfied with our work. If you're not satisfied, we'll continue to work with you until you are satisfied -- at no additional cost to you. He started to ask why I would make such a guarantee, and then he answered his own question: "You're making this offer because you want me to feel safe with the client and to have insurance if I recommend you." I told him that he was right-on. Four days later, he called and said, "The job is yours." To me, that's an example of how you build trust.
Karen Stephenson: It may seem simplistic, but I sort people into three categories: the strong, the meek, and the weak. The weak will mimic the strong, because they're good at managing upward. When you're managing an organization, that mimicry can make it hard to distinguish between the strong and the weak. But the way to tell the difference is to look at whom each serves. The strong serve the meek. The meek serve the institution -- they're the people who willingly do the work. And the weak serve only themselves. The meek fear the weak, because the weak are bullies. The strong have compassion for the weak and either try to get them on board or, if that fails, get them out of the organization. And the strong know that they need to serve the meek, because the meek truly run organizations -- and serving them communicates trust.
Clive Meanwell: There are four themes that come up in conversations that I have about what matters in the new economy. The first is, Whatever you do in your work life is actually pretty small. We all come from a generation that likes to believe that it's going to change the world. Well, guess what? If any of us were going to change the world, odds are that we would have done it by now. The point is, that's okay. Because we're all going to change something. We're all doing small, important things--and that's actually great. Because the people you really care about, whom you want to be proud of you, are small but important people--wives and husbands, children and family.
The second message is, Get on the long wave. Try this little experiment: Make a time line. Start with the Magna Carta, move on to the invention of the steam engine, then the French Revolution, then the atom bomb, and end with the cracking of the DNA code. Now take a look at these events. The long wave is all about individual freedom, individual responsibility, individual opportunity. The long wave is the story of the individual liberation. Of course, humanity has also had its wrong turns--which is why I threw in the atom bomb, an invention that could lead to a very short wave if we're not careful. But humankind saw that problem and uttered a collective "Whoops!"--and headed in a wiser direction. What this means in business is that if you want to be a change agent, be part of the long wave: Align yourself with the forces that, over time, are going to win.