Ten years ago, right before he became CEO of the prestigious Cleveland Clinic, 65-year-old Dr. Toby Cosgrove had good reason to believe he’d already acquired all the knowledge and wisdom he needed to excel in his new role.
The man, who recently was President Obama’s first choice to take over the troubled Department of Veterans Affairs following the resignation of General Erik Shinseki, could not have been more qualified for the position. And few people in his field, moreover on the planet, had amassed a more stunning list of career achievements.
Dr. Cosgrove had earned a Bronze Star as a Vietnam surgeon. He’d performed 22,000 surgeries, patented 30 different medical inventions, created a highly profitable venture capital group, written 450 journal articles, and led the clinic’s cardiac care team that U.S. News & World News Report named best in the nation for 20 consecutive years.
But as Dr. Cosgrove shared with me recently, soon after he took on the job he painfully discovered there was one essential leadership lesson he’d yet to learn. And it was largely a result of this late-in-life epiphany that he was able to transform the Cleveland Clinic into one of the most admired, engaged, and profitable health care organizations in the world.
The Harvard Business School was so impressed with the decades-long success of the Clinic’s heart care program that they invited Dr. Cosgrove to participate in a case study at its Cambridge campus.
While standing on a stage in an auditorium filled with students and faculty, fielding questions in what should have been an entirely celebratory experience, he called on a woman who’d raised her hand.
"My father is a doctor too," she said, "and he has mitral valve disease. After doing research, we know you’ve done more of this kind of surgery than anybody else in the country. But we finally decided not to come to you because we heard you didn’t have any empathy. Dr. Cosgrove, do you teach empathy at the Cleveland Clinic?"
The student’s question left him shocked and momentarily speechless. But it was 10 days later, at the inauguration of the clinic’s new facility in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, where yet another striking experience forced him to fully confront the question.
"The president of our new hospital went to the podium to make some remarks," Dr. Cosgrove told me, "and he told everyone in the audience, ‘This new clinic is dedicated to the body, and the soul, and the spirit of its patients.’"
When Dr. Cosgrove looked over at the hospital’s sponsors, he saw that both the Saudi King and Crown Prince were weeping. "What I understood in that very moment was that those tears were expressions of sheer gratitude—for the fact that we intended to care for much more than a patient’s physical body," he said.
The back-to-back experiences were so profoundly impactful that Cosgrove realized he was "missing something very important" that required him to take "a long, hard look in the mirror."
What he ultimately discerned was that he’d unconsciously subordinated his feelings—his heart—in the interest of becoming the best surgeon possible.
Recalling that heart-surgery-related deaths were in the double digits when he began his career and that he’d witnessed five children die on just one day during his medical residency, Dr. Cosgrove realized he’d unintentionally become a "cardiac surgical technician." He’d become a doctor who focused exclusively on the precision of his work, rather than on connecting more personally with patients and supporting their emotional needs.
"Cut well, sew well, do well" was the operating room motto.
Dr. Cosgrove wasted no time putting his new understanding to work and immediately began to bring elements of compassion, kindness, and empathy back into how his organization was led and managed:
In meetings held with all employees, he announced that the mission of the organization going forward was to make patient health and well-being its sole priority.
"I believe everybody wants to be associated with a higher calling," he told me. "Everyone wants to be a part of something bigger than they are, and I believe you have to give them that vision. And so this was the beginning of me trying to instill a soul in the organization. Then and there, we answered the essential question, ‘Why are we here?’"
Next, Cosgrove created the first ever chief experience officer position and directed the entire organization to work on greatly improving the patient’s emotional experience.
They hired famous designer, Dianne von Furstenberg, who created a new "wrap gown" to cover a patient’s formerly exposed backside (and restore a little human dignity in the process). They brought in architects who found clever ways to add more light and color to all 75 facilities. And they sent 43,000 employees to a half-day seminar that taught them how to most successfully support the emotional needs of other human beings.
"We also discovered that one of the biggest complaints patients have is with their doctor’s communication," Cosgrove told me. "So we mandated that all of our physicians be re-trained to be more attentive, caring, and thoughtful."
By digging into the details, the clinic discovered that 130 different people come in contact with a surgery patient from the time they arrive to when they go home. And in recognition that "any one person along the line could mess up the patient experience," Dr. Cosgrove decided that all employees in the institution would be called "caregivers."
"It didn’t make a difference if they worked on a loading dock, swept the floors, delivered the food, or were a neurosurgeon," he told me. "I wanted to ensure every person knew that they were important and part of the team. And almost immediately, our people began taking greater ownership and contributing at much higher levels."
In the decade Dr. Cosgrove has led the Cleveland Clinic, he’s nearly doubled its size, expanded it internationally, and ensured it continues to be recognized as the most innovative health care organization in the country.
But the reason President Obama was so vocal with his respect recently is because of its extraordinary standards of care. Last year, the average emergency room wait was just 11 minutes—and they fulfilled 98% of patient requests for same-day appointments.
Dr. Cosgrove insists that deeply caring about people—patients and employees alike—is at the root of all their success (and the nearly $1 billion the clinic earned last year).
But he doesn’t seem to realize how uncommon and enlightened his leadership philosophy is in business. "I’m not brilliant," he insisted. "I just responded to the cues."