My dog Scooter is the little one. He is not a model employee; his management style is ineffective.
Behind him are his two colleagues, Annie and Penny, who work well together and keep the yard free of wildlife who enter by land or air. They are faster and more confident. They try to go about their work by ignoring him.
Scooter is always in the office, running around and making work for himself until he crashes at night. Annie and Penny have better time management skills: they are focused when on yard patrol but they’re also able to manage their personal obligations, which largely consists of napping.
Scooter is pretty sure that he’s the one managing this pack, though those of us on the board – i.e. my family – laugh at the notion. Sure, he’s good at making a lot of noise and scaring away small birds. But the wild turkeys that waddle around our yard this time of year stare him down.
Not so when Annie and Penny flank the birds: those turkeys fly off like jumbo jets on a short runway in enemy territory, flapping as hard as they can to get airborne before the dogs can nip at them.
In the house, Scooter is a stair troll. It’s a completely useless role in which he scurries to the landing and barks at the big dogs. Sometimes, he nips at their ears as they walk past, ignoring him.
Scooter is also an ineffective first alert system. He’ll bark as loud as he can, riling everyone up, as the Amazon truck pulls in to our driveway like it does most days. He has no way to modulate his command and control management style.
Somedays Annie just gets fed up. She’s our sweetest and most loyal dog; she’s also our strongest. A few days ago, out in the yard, Scooter was barking his useless orders. I imagine him as a micromanager who expects others to do for him and make him look good. “Did you email so and so? Can you print this out? Why do I have to do everything?”
That day, Annie just had enough.
So she sat on him.
Scooter couldn’t move. He even stopped barking.
When she let him up, he raced to the porch and came inside.
Many of us can think of managers and colleagues who are Scooters. We can also think of employees like Annie and Penny. They are by no means without their quirks, but they take their jobs seriously and generally work well together.
I want my three daughters to work in a world where managers have been trained not to be like Scooter. And I’d like them to work like Annie and Penny – trusted to do their jobs at a high level and not questioned when they need to attend to personal matters during the day. (To be clear, I’m not advocating anyone sleep on the job!)
Until that time, please remember one thing, particularly if you’re in a senior role: Don’t manage like Scooter. It’s a lot of busy work and you just annoy your colleagues.
