Can you see how emotion cuts across as the common dominating factor influencing these six examples from the fields of branding, films, calamities, folklore, sports and business?
1. Emotion in brand. A brand such as Apple, which focuses primarily on emotional appeal, drives how we all think, feel, act and make decisions. Apple, of course, is the archetypal emotional brand. It is not just intimate with its customers; it is loved. That love or emotional worth had a reported brand value of $153 billion in May 2011, giving it a market capitalisation of more than half a trillion dollars – more than the estimated GDP of Poland in 2011 at $532 billion. Yet we know this brand almost went under only a decade ago. The goal of emotional branding goes beyond customer satisfaction into customer loyalty. For example, in the back lanes of London’s Chinatown, Lilly, the girl at the till in one of the
supermarkets plugs Apple earphones into the inexpensive Chinese mobile phone in her pocket so that it looks like an iPhone. For her, it is a badge of honour.
2. Emotion in film. A poignant, emotional epic is Bucket List featuring two of my favourite actors. Two terminally ill men meet as utter strangers in a hospital room with three months to live and decide to live out their bucket lists – the list of things they want to do before they kick the bucket. Edward Cole (Jack Nicholson) – corporate billionaire with no family, is hospital room mates with blue-collar mechanic Carter Chambers (Morgan Freeman) – poor but with a loving family. Realising the incompleteness of their lives, they take off across the globe relishing nature, history, taking risks, eating caviar and indulging in adrenaline, giving up their egos and making amends in relationships. They realise their biggest chance for personal change can only happen against a time bomb of ninety
days of life with each other as mentor-friends. Here they discuss the meaning of life, ambition, love, responsibility, faith, philosophy, dreams, repentances and regrets. Dialogues come as universal messages: ‘If life has taught me anything, it is that 95 percent of the people are always wrong’, or ‘the last days of his life were the best days of mine’, or ‘You measure yourself by the people who measure themselves by you’ or ‘So, what do you believe?’ … I resist all beliefs….No Big Bang? Random Universe? … We live. We die. And the wheels on the bus go round and round.’ While the plot is about coming to terms with death, the message to both young and old is universal – find happiness in life before it is too late. As with the opening chapter on self, this message is central to the DNA of this book. We all get caught up in the mundane grittiness of life so that we forget to unlock our inner dreams and enjoy life. Devastated by the hard-hitting reality of terminal cancer which is worse than any possible crises – financial, social and moral – two real people chose the king of all emotions – happiness, which no money can buy. Like this film, happiness never goes out of fashion and whatever our age and stage, we all seek it.
3. Emotion in calamities. When I watched the appalling scenes of the 2011 Japanese earthquake and tsunami, the one vivid scene I distinctly remember was of a dog, rescued from drifting ocean debris, jumping up to its owner and wagging its tail at their reunion more than three weeks after the tidal wave hit. The power of that emotion in the dog and the owner had an emotional impact on me bigger than the reported number of fatalities. The power of actually seeing an emotional reunion tugged at my heartstrings and somewhere the happiness of a reunion was more moving than death.
4. Emotion in storytelling. Emotion is the fast lane to the brain’s development. Right from Aladdin and the Magic Lamp in the 9th century Arabian Nights, firing a child’s imagination and ability to dream the impossible, to Barack Obama’s 2004 Democratic National Convention keynote address, emotions tell eternal stories that inspire us all. A day before his Boston speech, Obama was an obscure state senator from Chicago. After his electrifying address, he was a national political figure. Four years later, he was elected President of the United States. Emotional storytelling evokes imagination, inspiration, participation and empathy in people who are so keen to follow and find meaning. It is the same for a
President as it is for a small child – the ‘almond’ controls it all.
5. Emotion in Sports. Fresh off the emotional headlines of success are the two momentous weeks of the London 2012 Olympics. As I stood in St James’s Park, on a hot and humid day, watching the 105 runners, I wondered what the winning recipe was. After winning his second gold medal on Saturday, Mo Farah was asked if he could explain the secret of his success. ‘It is all hard work and grafting,’ he replied. Well yes, but I wonder if that is everything though? We have heard the winners talk about teams – their coaches, their partners, their family and friends. We also heard the losers apologising to people they ‘let down’ and shouldering all responsibility for failure.
Across every sentiment was a sense of pride and belonging to something bigger; a palpable group loyalty.
That moved me immensely. A DNA of deep belonging – not fame for fame’s sake. Athletes who have worked for years to win offer us the best inspiration to apply back in our lives– years of early rises, years of endless gym routines, years of restrain and self control; years of fighting every set back, and years of keeping the dream alive.
As I saw the sweat stream down the throbbing veins of these marathon runners, I saw in front of my eyes living personifications of deferred gratification and of pride and belonging to a cause bigger than themselves or the sport. ‘I was not known. Now I am known,’
Gold medallist Stephen Kiprotich of Uganda said, smiling with pride, not arrogance. ‘Determination matters. I’m happy.’ In his happiness, I felt an inspired surge of belief. Leadership is in our DNA. We can do anything if we really want to. It is a matter of choice.
6. Emotion in business. The 2000 merger between Time Warner and AOL never worked. Much trumpeted at the time, the $360 billion deal faltered because the two key participants – Steve Case and Gerald Levin – knew little of each other (and arguably, of one another’s businesses) before they struck the deal. Levin, a lawyer by training, had worked his way quickly through Time Inc’s corporate ranks and, while aware of the need to have an Internet strategy, had little idea of the best way to get one. Case, 20 years his junior, could not have been more different having worked first in marketing for Pizza Hut and then GameLine (a business which initially delivered computer games down telephone lines) which eventually grew into America Online (AOL). According to Nina Munk, whose book Fools Rush In (HarperCollins, 2004) is the authoritative account of the merger and the subsequent fall-out,
‘even before the deal was announced, it was clear to just about
every insider that this was going to be a fiasco.’ The argument is that the US$ 360 bn deal may have been motivated by logic or strategy but destroyed by egos.
The Story of Emo
For the purpose of illustrating the power of emotions in leadership, I will chart a real client’s story through a fictitious character called Emo. Emo could be any CEO – Emo could be you. Starting at a specific point in time, let us put Emo through the motions of this story. The story goes like this.
Emo has just been promoted to a CEO. Delighted, he still can’t believe the promotion which arrived more than a year before expected as the previous CEO left on health grounds after a successful five-year term. Without a succession plan, the board had to quickly search for a new leader in a difficult market. Emo was chosen, beating one strong internal favourite and two external contenders. Not only that, what made it interesting was the fact that Emo was two levels below the previous CEO; in that sense he had outpaced the level above to get this role. He had built a stellar reputation on leading a recent transformation project reporting into the previous CEO and that meant he had board visibility for the last eighteen months. Both the past history and future expectations to Emo’s succession were big.
We will track his first 90 days as a CEO.
As an aside, this fascination with 90 days, or 100 days or 120 days of any major experience is about initial impact. First impressions in the first three months count. With relevance in many life experiences including parenting, schooling, career, marriage, that initial period is all about excitement coupled with the apprehension of ‘let us see how this goes’.
I met Emo just after his 90th day as his coach and this is how he recounted Day 1 and the period after:
Day 1 (Emo): That morning, though, was different. I woke up acutely aware I had gone to bed as an executive and woken up as a CEO. The shift felt large. I needed to prove to the board their decision was right. I left home earlier than usual. As I took the lifts up to the 35th floor, at 6.30am, I wondered did the liftman know of my change? Could he sense anything different? A wave of anticipation washed over me as I walked past my old desk into the new office. I started my morning rituals – checking email, picking up voice messages, reviewing daily project status over a strong,
black coffee – then… I felt a throbbing anxiety. Is this what a CEO does?
What next? The rest of the day went by.
The next 89 days went by – fast.
Day 90: Emo had achieved good results which were published in the company’s first quarter. The press, shareholders and the board were happy. His team was less so and Emo himself was ‘knackered’, as he admitted. We had a two-hour coaching session where we plotted his 90 days week by week. Every event, emotion, trigger, dilemma he felt over the last three months was framed and reframed – no matter how positive or negative.
‘I am happy on one side, but glad this period is over. The truth is I have also felt terribly lonely. Old friends are not friends anymore – they are direct reports. Overnight, people looked at me in a different way. The language...
even the jokes seem different. For all the glory and power that comes with a CEO’s role, I have also felt helpless and confused – [he then took a long breath] – and sometimes even a bit scared. But I believe the board is happy.
So, I guess I have done an okay job...’ (in a reflective tone)
What had happened was Emo’s inner self was seeking validation. He needed to get a perspective on his emotional self through friends and family, peers, the board and the wider business. Finding the right support network was missing. In our first coaching session, which happened immediately after the 90 days, I realised a pattern: to every stumbling block in Emo’s first 100 days, based on feedback and growing self awareness, there was a trapped emotion that needed dealing with.
Below we see the proposed remedy against every piece of feedback Emo received; note his worry, or trapped emotion:
• He needed to listen more than tell [Emo: ‘but won’t I embarrass myself and look vulnerable by not telling people my views?’]
• Ask rather than pretend he knew the answer [Emo: ‘but won’t I risk contempt by revealing I don’t know’]
• Wait and be long term [Emo: ‘but won’t I disappoint others I am not showing immediate actions’]
• Mentor rather than befriend his team [Emo: ‘but won’t I disappoint people I have been close to or worse, feel I have distanced myself’]
• Define goals rather than execute expectations [Emo: ‘but won’t I embarrass myself by not telling people what is needed’]
He realised his first 90 days as a CEO was a successful but lonely period.
In connecting with his own emotions in a non-judgmental and honest way, we agreed he would now look at being more emotionally courageous and allow other people get to know his CEO self.
We unlocked the new internal voice that was always telling Emo: You are in the spotlight, everyone’s looking at yourself. Prove yourself and don’t look needy or unsure.