The Correct Miscalculation

Like millions of American women, I belong to a book club. Along with the monthly opportunity to share good food, good company and good conversation with a group of extraordinary women, I appreciate my club because it forces me to read literature -- fiction and non fiction -- that has nothing to do with the work I do during the rest of the month. Our selections reflect the wide range of interests and experience of our members, and expand my own understanding of our basic humanity.

This month's book is "The Housekeeper and the Professor" by Yoko Ogawa. The book was originally published in Japanese in 2003. We read the 2009 translation by Stephen Snyder.

"The Housekeeper and the Professor" tells the story of a brilliant mathematics professor who suffered a life-altering brain injury in a car accident. His short term memory is reduced to a precise 80 minute cycle. A young housekeeper is hired to care for the professor, her work made more challenging by the fact that to some degree, her relationship with the Professor must begin anew each day, since he has no ability to remember the previous day's encounters. Even the multiple hand-written reminders that the Professor pins to his suit cannot adequately compensate for his loss.

Despite this deficit, there are certain constants in the Professor's life. Chief among them is his complete love and immersion in the beauty of numbers. Not only can he see patterns and relationships in the formulas and theorems of mathematics, but he has a unique ability to share his understanding with his much less educated housekeeper and her ten-year old son, whom he has dubbed "Root" (because the top of the boy's head reminds him of the square root symbol).

A simple, elegant relationship develops between the Housekeeper and the Professor, perhaps because it is stripped away of the expectations placed by memory or past mistakes. In fact, the housekeeper learns a different perspective about "mistakes:"

"He had a very feeling for what he called the 'correct miscalculation,' for he believed that mistakes were often as revealing as the right answers. This gave us confidence even when our best efforts came to nothing."

And although the Professor's life revolved around the precision of mathematics and numbers, he is completely comfortable with the unknown; perhaps a metaphor for the limitations of his own capacity for learning:

"Among the many things that made the Professor an excellent teacher was the fact that he wasn't afraid to say 'we don't know.' For the Professor, there was no shame in admitting you didn't have the answer, it was a necessary step toward the truth. It was as important to teach us about the unknown or the unknowable as it was to teach us what had already been safely proven."

"The Housekeeper and the Professor" is less than 200 pages. The beauty and efficiency of its prose make it a worthwhile investment.

"I Suck At This"

The Washington Post website offers a series of of video interviews offering opinions on various qualities of leadership. Today's feature focuses on a personal crusade of mine: the ability to admit mistakes.

Paul Schmitz, CEO of the nonprofit organization Public Allies, tells Washington Post business columnist Steve Pearlstein "why fessing up about your failings strengthens your role as a leader."

One of my favorite "ah-ha" moments in the interview is when Schmitz discusses the "risk" of acknowledging weaknesses.

"It's not like these things are secrets," Schmitz says. "Everyone knows it; everyone sees it. And so I think that a lot of times that we have this denial in ourselves that people recognize...but everyone knows. And if we just say it, it makes it a lot easier to deal with."

Watch the whole interview here:

My Mistake

Our new president has completed his second full week in office. And although he still enjoys approval ratings upwards of sixty percent, I'm guessing that he's glad to have day 14 behind him.

President Obama arranged to make himself available Tuesday for a series of interviews with the news anchors from the major broadcast television networks. The appearances were part of a plan to build support for his economic stimulus plan. He also wanted to highlight his ongoing bipartisan outreach efforts, illustrated by his choice of a Republican senator to fill the post of Commerce Secretary.

That was the plan when all that network airtime was scheduled.

The president did get to talk about his stimulus plan and his Commerce appointment. But only after he had to account for the withdrawal of two other major cabinet appointments due to their tax problems. And this came on the heals of the new Treasury Secretary and his tax mea culpa.

Mr. Obama acknowledged his embarrassment, and how these lapses in the vetting process could look to the Americans who voted for him to bring change to Washington.

"I screwed up," he said. The president said "I screwed up." Again and again, interview after interview, to be played again and again on various newscasts.

Observers have likened Mr. Obama's popularity and celebrity to that of a rock star. Even rock stars make mistakes. Will make mistakes. Guaranteed.

Leaders may be measured more by their performance in the face of failure than success. Can they admit error? Learn from their mistakes? Make corrections mid-course? Do they demonstrate the dynamic flexibility required to handle the unexpected?

In the continuum of unexpected presidential challenges, the tax problems of a few potential cabinet members won't seem like much down the road when compared to military incursions, natural disasters or environmental threats. But maybe Tuesday provided some insight into how this president will respond when the Next Big Thing lands unannounced on his desk.

Pack Up Your Troubles In Your Old Kit Bag…

…they’re easier to find that way.

A client received a prestigious, long-sought promotion. The position was one of those jobs where preparation only goes so far. It was an environment of multiple deadlines and variable tasks; a place where the learning is done by the doing. Skill comes from the day to day experience.

“Adam’s” appointment was recognition of his native intelligence and his ability to be a quick study. He is a keen observer and picks up new skills quickly. He clearly met the specs for the job.

As you might imagine, in such an environment, mistakes will be made. And Adam made them. Within his first week, he made an obvious error. His supervisor took him aside, corrected him, reassured him and moved on.

Adam could not let go of his mistake. He kept replaying it in his head, reviewing not only his error, but the nuanced reaction of every colleague. The flub absorbed so much of his attention that (you saw this coming) a deadline slipped past him and Boom! Another mistake.

Now Adam was convinced there was a pattern. A pattern of his screwing up. And why not? He’d been a screw up all his life; a misfit, a geek. He was irresponsible, careless, and just not too bright.

Huh? Didn’t I just describe Adam as bright and capable? And hadn’t his employer assessed his talent to be the perfect fit for his new job?

All that was true. But that reality did not mesh with the story of his childhood, where parents and grade school teachers gave him enough negative labels to fill a backpack. And although Adam had achieved great academic and professional success, the bullied child he had been never was far away. Any time his performance was less than perfect, Adam reached back into the “knapsack o’ negativity” he always kept nearby to find the perfect label for his screw up.

It’s true that our mistakes and our failures often can provide us with more learning than our successes. At the very least, a failure offers the opportunity to examine it and say “well, I’ll never do THAT again!” But exaggerated focus on the negative makes it grow bigger, limiting our ability to move forward or change course. And even if we manage to keep moving, the effort takes more energy, making the journey just that much more difficult.

Adam’s “knapsack” stalled his momentum in two ways: it weighed him down and caused him to stop periodically as he gathered up more proof of his defects and added them to the collection.

What would it be like to lay down that “knapsack o’ negativity?”