Leadership Is THE Strategic Issue
Article by
Richard FarsonNovember 4, 2008
Most designers don't think of themselves as having a place in
high councils of decision making. But that is where they are needed
most. The first step is for designers to begin to imagine
themselves as leaders—of design firms, of communities, of cultural
organizations, of corporations and beyond.
Design is one of the few professions dominated by its clientele.
Compared to physicians, attorneys and academics, designers are
inclined to do what they're told. That posture is so widely
accepted among designers that it sometimes seems the only ones who
can occasionally insist on having things their way are the
superstars of design.
Of course, having one's way is hardly the ideal manner in which
to conduct a professional relationship. Nevertheless, design
judgment—even in matters of social responsibility such as health
and safety, let alone matters of aesthetics, efficiency,
productivity and visual impact—is often subordinated to the
client's or employer's wishes.
The better strategy for designers would be to regard the current
effort to educate the CEO about how designers see the world as a
lost cause and instead try to educate themselves about how the CEO
sees the world.
That is such an old story among designers that perhaps it is
small wonder that designers tend not to see themselves as leaders.
If they have learned not to expect their professional judgments to
sway clients or employers, how can they imagine leading
corporations or communities, to say nothing of exercising
leadership in the developing global arena? It is simply impossible
for most designers to think of themselves as having a place in high
councils of decision making.
But that is where designers are most needed—at the top. It is a
travesty that the only professionals close to CEOs are lawyers and
accountants. Designers have more to offer because increasingly our
organizations need to be design-driven, not just market-driven. To
truly prosper, global society must have its needs met, not just its
wants.
Instead, designers who work in organizations worry about not
being appreciated, worry that their work is not understood by top
management. As a result, they spend an inordinate amount of time
trying to educate the CEO about the benefits of design
consciousness, not realizing that every other department is also
trying to educate the CEO about the potential contribution it could
make because its members feel similarly misunderstood and
unappreciated.
The truth is that CEOs don't understand any of the professions
or groups represented in the organization and never will. Because
things change so fast, they don't even understand the departments
they came from. They have other concerns. They have to see the big
picture. Most of their time is spent on matters having nothing to
do with the internal operations of the organizations they head.
Instead, they deal with industry-wide issues, government relations,
community needs, raising capital and so on.
The better strategy for designers would be to regard the current
effort to educate the CEO about how designers see the world as a
lost cause and instead try to educate themselves about how the CEO
sees the world. Is it possible for designers to try to gain that
top leadership perspective? If and when they do, they can become
the indispensable people occupying chairs at the directors
table.
Designers, however, are understandably reluctant to leave their
drawing boards or computers, preferring hands-on work with their
design problems. Leading—making it possible for others to work with
those design problems—somehow seems non-creative, not what they
were trained to do. Nevertheless, that is the necessary change
designers are going to be called upon to make. If design will be
the byword of the 21st century, designers will have to take their
places as its leaders.
The fact that it is a difficult change to make shouldn't deter
design professionals who have already made many fundamental
changes. In recent years, many designers have become cyber
designers working in electronic space, metadesigners helping laymen
create their own designs, entertainment designers who never
expected to be designing experiences rather than things, and so
forth. The change to a leadership posture shouldn't be more
difficult.
A coroner I know was once asked, “Whatever made you want to
become a coroner?” He thought for a moment and replied, “I don't
know… I guess I just like people.” That remark is amusing because
we often hear people justifying their decisions to take a job or
enter a profession with those words, and we tend to regard that
motivation as rather superficial. It turns out, however, that when
it comes to leadership, it isn't at all superficial. Liking the
people one is leading is crucial to success.
Amateur doesn't mean doing something badly but doing it for the
love of it.
Liking people depends not only on the personality and background
of the individual but even more on the role relationships one has
on the job. Certain professions are engaged in work that risks
eroding their respect and liking for people. This may be a work
hazard for police, journalists and lawyers, for example, who often
work with people who are misbehaving and deceitful. Other
professions—psychologists, for example—tend to create relationships
in which their liking and respect for their clients grow.
Where does design stand in this respect? It all depends. When we
see people only at their defensive or deceptive worst or when we
feel victimized by them, we tend to like them less and less. When
designers become lackeys or victims, they will dislike their bosses
or victimizers. On the other hand, when they feel they are
genuinely helping their clients or employers, they will like them
more. We tend to like not the people who do things for us but the
ones we do things for. That explains why the best leaders are those
who serve the group. Paradoxically, it is more important for
leaders to like their people than for their people to like them.
Eventually it will be reciprocal.
Many years ago my friend, the late designer George Nelson, told
me a story I will never forget. Early in his career, Nelson worked
for a time with Frank Lloyd Wright. One day when Nelson and the
great prairie architect were taking a walk and talking, Wright was
struggling to find a metaphor that would explain the essence of
architecture. At one point he stopped and pointed to a flower,
saying, “Architecture is like this flower … no, that's not it.” He
then walked a bit farther, turned and said, “George, architecture
is like being in love.” After he told me that story, Nelson said,
“Dick, I hope it doesn't take you as long as it took me to figure
out what he meant by that.”
Well, I'm afraid it did. But I'm beginning to get the idea. It
is a paradox. In order to be a professional, one must be an
amateur. The word amateur comes from the Latin amator,
meaning 'to love.' Amateur doesn't mean doing something badly but
doing it for the love of it. Of course. Love and passion are the
organizing forces in leadership and management, overriding
technique or skill, just as they are in almost everything
worthwhile doing—romance, parenthood, creativity. Paraphrasing
Wright, leadership, then, is like being in love. And paraphrasing
Nelson, I hope it will not take you as long to understand that as
it took me.
In fact, leadership is the most complex, difficult, responsible
job our society offers.
Leadership is like being a good host at a dinner party. Consider
what that entails. A good host thoughtfully plans the evening,
carefully composes the group, takes pains to create the proper
environment, arranges the appropriate seating, sets the agenda for
the evening, introduces subject matter for discussion, lubricates
difficult situations, soothes relationships, takes responsibility,
moves things along, attends to details, keeps controversy at a
manageable level, adds humor and optimism, comes early and stays
late, brings guests into the conversation who previously may have
been marginal, handles one thing after another, shifts attention
easily, listens well, doesn't dominate, is at ease with self and
others, and most important, enables the guests to be at their
best.
Leadership is not a skill. There are no expert leaders, just as
there are no expert friends or husbands or parents. The more
important a relationship, the less skill matters. Leadership is a
high art. It is too important to be a skill. It needs to be
understood and appreciated for its aesthetic qualities, for its
gracefulness and beauty, just as we appreciate these qualities in a
great athlete quite apart from that athlete's contribution to the
victory. While we can appreciate them in their own right in both
sport and leadership, these aesthetic qualities are fundamental to
success.
All this must make it seem that becoming a leader is a rather
tall order. But there is good news. You already know how. One of
the amazing facts about leadership and management is that you can
take people right off the production line and make them managers.
Without an hour of training they start right in, and the great
majority succeed. That's not because the job is easy. In fact,
leadership is the most complex, difficult, responsible job our
society offers. It makes brain surgery look easy. The reason that
brand new managers can do it is that they already know how.
We all have a mastery of roles that we seldom if ever get a
chance to play. That new manager has experienced leadership in so
many situations in life that he or she has unconsciously acquired
the role and only needed the right situation for the right behavior
to be elicited.
We will succeed only if design becomes the organizing discipline
of the future.
Designers have even better preparation than most to assume
leadership. They are especially qualified. Designers are already
good at seeing things in context, already understand the sweep of
history, are already conversant in the arts, sciences and
humanities (as are the best leaders), are already good at working
in ensembles, are already environmentally aware, are already aware
of the limits of technology and its backfiring nature, are already
capable of a high level of creative thinking, are already
appreciative of the aesthetic dimensions of leadership. The first
step, then, is for designers to begin to imagine themselves as
leaders—of design firms, of communities, of cultural organizations,
of corporations and beyond.
This century will probably determine the survival of our
civilization. We will succeed only if design becomes the organizing
discipline of the future, and that will happen only when designers
become leaders. The world needs what designers have to offer—not
just on the drawing board but on the board of directors.
This article, republished with permission fromDesignIntelligence, is excerpted from
Richard Farson's newest book, The Power of Design: A
Force for Transforming Everything, published by Greenway
Communications and the Ösberg Library of Design Management. The
chapter from which it was drawn was adapted from an article
originally published in Perspective magazine.