THE
BUSINESS OF STORYTELLING
Carol Kinsey Goman
A
woman from the audience followed me into the hallway. "I think
we're married to the same man," she said. Successfully fighting
the urge to fire off the snappy reply, "Could be. I travel
a lot," I simply smiled back. I'd heard this before.
I'm
introduced as a change-management expert who's married to a man
who refuses to change anything. So, during my speech, I tell humorous
stories about the resistance my husband puts up -- and how I've
learned to handle his protests.
After
every speech, audience members come up to me to comment on my husband.
Many recognize their co-workers or loved ones (or themselves!) in
him, and some (like the woman whose own spouse's behavior so resembled
mine) jokingly commiserate with me. The thing I find most intriguing
about this phenomenon is that in my 20 years of professional speaking,
no one has ever approached me after a program to say they most appreciated
my second bullet point, or maybe my fifth bullet point.
That's
because they apparently don't remember them. But they do remember
how to deal with change through the stories I tell.
Why
is that?
Social scientists note that there are two different modes of cognition:
the paradigmatic mode and the narrative mode. The former is rooted
in rational analysis; the latter is represented in fairy tales,
myth, legends, metaphors, and good stories. And good stories, it
turns out, are more powerful than plain facts!
That's
not to reject the value of facts, of course, but simply to recognize
their limits in influencing people. Facts are neutral. Stories supplement
analysis. People make decisions based on what facts mean to them,
not on the facts themselves. Facts aren't influential until they
mean something to someone. Good stories supply the context that
gives facts meaning.
Trying
to influence people through scientific analysis, in communication
terms, is a "push" strategy. It requires the speaker to
convince listeners through cold, factual evidence. Storytelling
is a "pull" strategy, in which listeners are invited to
participate in the experience and to imagine themselves acting in
the mental movie that the storyteller is presenting. Stories resonate
with adults in ways that can bring them back to a childlike open-mindedness
-- in which they are less resistant to new and different ideas.
Compared
to facts, stories are better for building community, capturing the
imagination, and exerting influence. In the world of business, stories
help employees understand the rich heritage of an organization.
Stories can offer successful examples of dealing with change. Personal
stories are powerful leadership tools for building trust. Humorous
stories can ease tension. And, if you interview key staff, stories
can capture their wisdom.
Stories
can address universal human themes
Michael LeBoeuf, author of How to Win Customers and Keep Them for
Life, illustrates the power of making people feel important with
the story of Jane, who was explaining to a friend why she had recently
married Bill instead of Bob.
"Bob
is Mr. Everything," Jane said. "He's intelligent, clever
and has a very successful career. In fact, when I was with Bob,
I felt like he was the most wonderful person in the world."
"Then
why did you marry Bill?" her friend asked.
"Because,
"Jane replied, "when I'm with Bill, I feel like I'm the
most wonderful person in the world."
Stories
can demonstrate how to approach your work
I once asked Sanjiv Sidhu, the CEO of Dallas-based i2 Technologies,
what kind of attitudes he encourages in his work force. I was surprised
to find this visionary founder of a software company telling me
a story about cleaning houses. It's the same story he tells employees.
"Most
people would think that cleaning houses for a living was a pretty
boring job. But I believe that if you had the right attitude, cleaning
houses could be intellectually stimulating. Let's say it takes you
four hours to clean a house, and you're doing three houses a day,
six days a week. That's 72 hours of really boring work and a pretty
sure recipe for burnout somewhere down the line.
"But if you redefined the job, said to yourself that you were
going to do each house in two hours, there'd suddenly be an innovative
component in the work. You'd need to do a study that asked, for
example: 'Am I going to vacuum the whole house first and then go
back and polish the furniture, or am I going to do everything in
one room before moving on to the next?'
"And
if you added to that goal the goal of being the best house-cleaner
ever, then you really would be stretching your mind, the job wouldn't
feel boring anymore and you probably wouldn't burn out because your
own innovative thinking would keep you interested.
"But
then suppose you shifted gears again and said, 'Okay, now I'm going
to clean each house in ten minutes!' That's where the real fun would
begin for someone like me because I'd know I couldn't hit that target
by merely tinkering with spatial tasking. I'd have to start thinking
about new kinds of house-cleaning equipment -- or maybe even new
kinds of houses that cleaned themselves.
"That's
the kind of thinking we're encouraging in our employees all of the
time."
Stories
can make values come alive
Nordstrom is one organization that does a remarkable job of using
anecdotes about its sales force to communicate its value of impeccable
customer service. There is, for example, the often-repeated tale
about the saleswoman who took her lunch hour to drive from downtown
Seattle to the airport to make sure that her customer received his
new business suit.
The
customer had purchased the suit that morning to wear at a meeting
in another city the next day -- and then discovered the garment
needed alterations. The Nordstrom saleswoman had promised to have
the suite altered and delivered to him before he left town. She
kept her promise.
Stories
can grow into legends
When it comes to projecting an image of fun verging on lunacy --
and making that image pay off -- there's no better example than
Southwest Airlines back when Herb Kelleher was at the helm. In their
book Nuts! Southwest Airlines' Crazy Recipe for Business and Personal
Success, authors Kevin and Jackie Freiberg offer an example of corporate
silliness at its zenith. It's the story of the legendary "Malice
in Dallas" battle between Kelleher, then CEO of Southwest,
and Kurt Herwald, the chairman of Stevens Aviation.
In
the old Dallas Sportatorium, before the media and a crowd of employees,
Kelleher and Herwald arm-wrestled to decide the user rights to a
particular slogan. The Freibergs set the scene: "Down one aisle
strode Herwald, a burly 37-year-old weight lifter, dressed in slacks
and a dark-colored muscle shirt, wearing a menacing sneer and a
'Born to Raise Capital' tattoo on his massive right arm. Down the
other, to the hair-raising trumpet blasts of the theme from 'Rocky,'
strutted the skinny, white-haired, 61-year-old Kelleher, decked
out in a white T-shirt, gray sweat pants under shiny red boxing
shorts, a sling on his right arm and a cigarette dangling from his
infectious grin, accompanied by a handler with a tray of airline-size
bottles of Wild Turkey."
Kelleher
lost the battle, blaming a fractured wrist (injured, he claimed,
while saving a little girl from being hit by a bus) combined with
a week-long cold, a stubborn case of athlete's foot, and having
accidentally over-trained by walking up a flight of steps.
But
he won the war. Herwald announced shortly after his victory that
he had decided to let Southwest keep using the slogan "Just
Plane Smart."
Stories
can even be fables
From the One Minute Manager to Who Moved My Cheese? fables have
become a staple on the business best-seller list. My recent book
follows in this tradition. GHOST STORY: A Modern Business Fable
is about the power of collaboration. In it, each character symbolizes
a specific reason why people aren't telling what they know.
The
heroine of the fable, Dot, is the leader of a team that's been put
together to solve a mystery concerning a ghost and a little man.
In the excerpt that follows, Dot and her "mentor," a talking
bonsai tree, are meeting with Mr. Stonewall, a magpie who is the
head of company archives.
"Well,
sir," Dot began, "since you are the company's chief archivist,
what can you tell me about the ghost's history?"
"Nothing,"
the magpie replied, instantly.
Dot
hesitated. "Nothing, sir?"
"That
is correct," the magpie said.
"I
don't understand," Dot said.
"I'm
sorry to hear that," the bird said, and chuckled wheezily.
"But
you just told me you know all about the ghost," Dot protested.
"Indeed,
I did."
"So
you must know about its history."
"Indeed,
I do."
"Why
won't you tell me, then?" Dot demanded.
"Because,
young woman, knowing and telling are two different things,"
the magpie said, importantly.
"Oh,"
Dot said. Trying her best to sound like a leader, she added: "I'm
afraid that isn't very helpful, Mr. Stonewall. My job, you see,
is to discover how the ghost and the Little Man are damaging this
company. And then to make them stop before next Monday morning.
Which won't be possible without a great deal of help from you and
the rest of the team!"
"Bravo!"
the bird croaked. "First-rate speech!" and applauded by
clicking its talons together like castanets. After which it leaned
even further back in its chair and gazed upwards into the dust for
nearly a minute, thinking deeply or pretending to, anyway.
Then:
"Dorothy," it croaked, "you strike me as quite an
acceptable person. Over-emotional, totally ignorant, but good-hearted
and clearly not threatening. So I am going to break a lifelong rule
and share a small piece of my wisdom with you. Specifically, a piece
of wisdom I picked up from the old president when he was still alive
and in charge here."
The
magpie paused and cleared his throat elaborately: "Stonewall,"
the old president used to say to me, "knowledge is like gold.
Spend it and it becomes worthless. Keep it hoarded away and it will
only increase in value."
"In
other words," Dot frowned, "you aren't going to tell me
anything you know about the ghost."
"Correct,"
Mr. Stonewall said, and smiled at her benignly.
"Or
about the Little Man."
"Also
correct."
"You're
going to keep it all to yourself, even though you know I'm here
to help, because you think it's worth more that way."
The bird lifted its talons and shrugged: "Market forces, Dorothy."
Successful collaboration
In the end, ol' Mr. Stonewall learns that in the information market,
the forces are changing. In the past information was like gold --
something to be hoarded as it increased in value. But in an era
of accelerated change, ideas become obsolete all too rapidly. The
success stories in today's knowledge economy are coming from those
individuals (and companies) that share information and build collaborative
relationships.
And
those are the very stories I'm collecting now. I've started research
for a new book will take the lessons that Dot learned in GHOST STORY
and test them in the real world. Although the new book will be written
in a narrative format (no company names used), I'm looking for actual
examples of successful collaboration. I'm especially interested
in your experience with collaboration and knowledge sharing that
achieved a goal that otherwise could not have been met: the obstacles
that were overcome, how trust was built, and (most especially) what
you personally gained from the experience.
If you would be willing to help, please email (cgoman@ckg.com) or
phone (510-526-1727). Thank you in advance for your participation.
Please feel free to forward this to others you think might have
a good story to share.
--
Carol
Kinsey Goman
Kinsey Consulting Services
P.O. Box 8255
Berkeley, CA 94707
Website: www.CKG.com
Email: CGoman@ckg.com
Phone: 510-526-1727
Speaker,
Consultant, and Author of:
* Ghost Story: A Modern Business Fable
* This Isn't the Company I Joined
* Creativity in Business
* The Human Side of High-Tech
* Change-Busting: 50 Ways to Sabotage Organizational Change
* Managing for Commitment
* Adapting to Change: Making it Work for You
* The Loyalty Factor
* Managing in a Global Organization
|