So you've just been awarded the leadership gig of a lifetime, complete with a talented team, a host of challenges to tackle, and (come on, admit it) a sweet bump in pay. Congratulations! There's just one little problem. The guy who ran the place before you ranked somewhere between God and Herb Kelleher in your employees' minds. As you unpack your boxes, they're still whispering about naming their firstborn after him.
Taking over after a popular leader bows out can be a confidence-shaking experience. Even if you have the vision of Steve Jobs and the optimism of Jeff Bezos, you're simply the person who replaced Mr. or Ms. Wonderful. "If you think the stakes are higher, they are," says Mark Thompson, an executive coach with firsthand experience following a beloved leader. Years ago, he replaced a popular company veteran as chief communications officer at Charles Schwab. His predecessor was Schwab's resident golden boy -- smart, charismatic, funny -- "all the things I didn't picture myself to be," says Thompson. In fact, the guy was so popular that one of Thompson's mentors advised him to seriously consider whether he should even take the job.
If it's lonely at the top, it's even lonelier when you're leading people still mourning the passing of their patron saint. But there are ways to cope with their brutal comparisons, transfer their loyalty, and keep your integrity intact. With the right finessing, your employees may name their second born after you.
Jerry Kirkegaard had been with Quest Diagnostics, the clinical-test laboratory, as far back as the Ford administration, and his legacy seemed to stretch back even longer. The affable, informal Kirkegaard, a regional managing director, was famous for promoting a familial culture: Under his watch, many employees worked with their spouses, and more than 100 of them attended his 60th birthday party.
So imagine being Chris Shlagor, who took over Kirkegaard's spot three years ago. Not only was she missing his close-knit connections; she also lacked his laid-back leadership style. For example, to prepare for a visit by top brass, Shlagor designed a rigid schedule that subjected the execs to detailed business-plan presentations. Kirkegaard, she says, "would have put his feet up on the desk and just talked to them for two days."
Shlagor worried her new staff would size her up as a stiff corporate suit. But she also knew she couldn't just mimic Kirkegaard's style, which favored spontaneous hallway strategy sessions. So she immediately fessed up to those differences, admitting how difficult it would be for her to run meetings without an agenda. Surprisingly, the team didn't roll their eyes. "Here I was, worried I was going to be putting rules in place that people would balk at," Shlagor recalls. "But it turned out discipline was good. People said we needed more of it."
No matter why your predecessor moved on -- a promotion, retirement, or even an untimely death -- employees need time to process that the person responsible for much of their happiness at work is no longer part of their lives. Assert yourself before that grieving period is over, and you'll face a wall of resistance.
Andrew R. Gatto learned that the hard way when he took the reins at Russ Berrie and Co. last year, replacing the toy company's founder and namesake after he died of heart failure. (Berrie's wife temporarily served as interim CEO.) Berrie had started the company out of his garage and nurtured a staff of loyal workers. Acting more like a frontline manager than a CEO, Berrie worked closely with employees in the field. In turn, his employees treated him like family. One executive asked Berrie to be the best man in his wedding. Another visits his grave once a week. "He tells me he still has a spiritual link to the man," Gatto says of the employee.
Hoping to reinvent a company that had essentially been operating the same way since 1963, Gatto reorganized sales territories by geographic region. The change made pragmatic sense but disrupted decades-old relationships. Clients called Gatto on behalf of their Russ sales reps asking him to reconsider. Gatto persisted, even as buyers threatened to pull their business and several salespeople quit in protest. While he contends the move was right for the business, Gatto now says he wishes he'd taken a more gradual approach. "There's an emotional hole that exists, and that hole takes some time to fill."