It's been said that
success has a thousand fathers, but failure is an orphan. What
a shame.
Mistakes, setbacks and misfortunes are
unavoidable, and unfortunately, "stuff" happens to everyone.
So why don't we take credit for our failures, as well as our
triumphs?
Failure can often make us stronger, teach
us valuable lessons and create a benchmark for the future.
Failure casts a bright light onto our character, revealing our
strengths as well as our weaknesses. And of course, the way we
deal with failure often tells us more about ourselves
than the failure itself.
When we try to hide our failures, we not
only deprive ourselves of a learning experience, we rob others
of the lessons they could have learned from our
example.
Mistakes Were
Made
It's funny how people deal with failure.
Here are a few of the failure-denial tactics currently in
vogue:
| 1.
|
Shift the blame.
Politicians are experts at blaming others for their
mistakes. Rather than asking, "Where can we go from
here?" or "What did our failure teach us?" they'll point
their fingers in every direction but the nearest mirror.
|
| 2. |
Insult the victim. This
is a technique perfected by Bobby Knight, the
anger-challenged basketball coach. His typical
non-apology after a hurtful tirade: "I'm sorry I got
angry, but some people are just too stupid to know that
I'm always right." |
| 3. |
Throw a bone. If the
mistake is too obvious to avoid detection, you can feign
accountability with the hollow admission that "mistakes
were made," without ever admitting that you were the one
who made the mistake in the first
place. |
The irony is,
there's so much good that can come from admitting mistakes
quickly and accepting ownership when things go wrong. For
example, it took more than 15 years for Pete Rose to finally
admit that he bet on baseball -- something everyone knew he
did anyway. Had he come clean in the first place, he'd be in
the Baseball Hall of Fame, not banished for
life.
Super-Sized
Accountability
Even a setback caused by forces
outside our control -- a flood, a hurricane, a recession, a
frivolous lawsuit, whatever -- can provide us with a golden
opportunity to learn or move forward.
Years ago, I
had the good fortune to work with Frank Guiterrez, Vice
President of a medical equipment company. After a round of
interviews with several of my candidates, Frank and I grabbed
a bite to eat.
Frank was
intrigued by the fact that I had failed in an earlier career
but had found success as a recruiter. He went on to tell me,
matter-of-factly, about his capture and subsequent torture in
his native Cuba following the Bay of Pigs invasion in 1961.
A member of
the CIA-backed armed opposition to Fidel Castro, Frank was
released after two years in a prison camp and found asylum in
Miami. Arriving with one dollar in his pocket, Frank spent the
first night in his adopted country, hunkered down with a
candle, a newspaper and a Spanish-English dictionary.
Through years
of struggle and a succession of menial jobs, Frank not only
put himself though engineering school (earning both a
bachelor's and a master's degree), he had risen to a
high-level position with a cutting-edge company in
California.
"Do you know
what kept me motivated during all those difficult years?"
asked Frank.
"Please tell
me," I said.
"It was a
little book by a concentration camp survivor," said Frank,
"written by a psychologist named Viktor Frankl.
"Frankl spent
more than two years in a labor camp, under unimaginably cruel
conditions. And he became immensely curious as to why some
prisoners managed to live while others died.
"He finally
concluded that no matter what happens to a person -- torture,
forced labor, starvation -- no one can rob the
person of his thoughts, or his attitude towards his
situation.
"Frankl found
that those prisoners who believed they were crushed,
eventually were. And those -- like himself -- who were
determined to live, did."
After our
meal, we walked to the parking lot and shook hands. I made
several placements with Frank, and after several
years we lost touch. But I still think about him often
and feel sad there aren't more Franks -- and more
Frankls -- out there. Our world would sure be a better place
if there were.