Reprinted from:
winners, Best Management Book Published in the Americas in 1995,
the Financial Times/Booz-Allen & Hamilton Global Business Book Awards
ISBN #1-56079-497-6
Published by Peterson's, Princeton, New Jersey, 1-800-338-3282
When we wrote WHY TEAMS DON'T WORK in 1995, we knew the book's organization turned on the dozen or so characteristic ways people on teams get into trouble -- confused goals, poor leadership, blurred roles, lousy policies, etc. Everything we wanted to say seemed to fit into these categories.
Well, not everything. When we were done we had one basket of ideas left: a series of misconceptions or myths people have about teams. They didn't fit neatly into any problem category, so we lumped them together in a section called "Team Myths."
To be honest, we thought our book was just another addition to the groaning teams bookshelf. So two things surprised us: our winning the Booz-Allen & Hamilton/Financial Times award for Best Management Book published in the Americas in 1995, and the special affection lavished upon our team myth section. Our guess is that it did people good to laugh at their own raised expectations.
Without further ado, then, here in its entirety is our award-winning treatise on team myths.
"The Myth of Adventure Learning"
Rays of light spire over the humpback mountain peak, breaking up the blue sky. Christine stands facing the light, on the tip of a rock promontory, 70 feet over a pitted gorge leading down another 500 feet to a winding canyon stream. Falling means instant death.
As she greets the morning, the breeze blowing through her hair, she lifts her arms, teeters, and falls gently backward -- into the arms of twelve groping team members, waiting just below.
Then the group trudges to the next adventure site, a pole Christine must climb in order to overcome her fears. Her twelve teammates will be belaying her with support ropes all the way. When the day is done, everyone who climbed will be awarded an ornamental carabiner, to put on the desk back at the office as a paperweight and a permanent reminder of the important lessons about teamwork learned up on the windswept slopes of Mount Cooperation.
Welcome to the heart-pounding, high-fiving world of adventure learning.
Adventure learning is a group event in which a team is put through a series of challenging physical and mental tasks. They often take place outdoors, in an idyllic setting, at a retreat in the mountains, or a dude ranch, or a park. They are facilitator-led, and they build on the psychological lessons learned years ago in '70s-ish, Carl Rogers' style encounter groups for normals.
Back then it was discovered that people could experience sensational breakthroughs in behavior if asked to do things they do not ordinarily do, with the rest of the group acting as support. The classic example is "Trust Falls." In this exercise you put a blindfolded person on a table, then let them fall backward, with the other group members catching the falling individual. In more complex manifestations, it can include rock climbing, pole climbing, rope bridges, and zipping down cables on a pulley.
There are two basic degrees of adventure learning, higher risk and lower risk; we'll call them "high ropes" and "low ropes." High ropes is the more adventurous of the two. It involves climbing mountains, crossing rope bridges, rapid descents on pulleys, and the like. There is some degree of actual physical danger in high ropes exercises -- your teammates could decide not to belay you with their support ropes, and you could fall off the mountain.
Low ropes involves very little actual risk. It is adventure learning on a budget, usually a series of physical outdoors exercises that can be done in a park or backyard. They often begin with something like The Druid's Knot. Team members form a circle and then, taking turns, clasp right hands with the right hand of someone else in the circle. Then they do the same thing with their left hand. People are pulled very close with all the handshakes. The objective now is for everyone to untangle the knot, without letting go.
Usually the people most engaged in the solution are in the greatest pain, their bodies contorted like pretzels. Eventually they have all disentangled themselves and they form a large ring, much bigger than the original circle. From a knot to a ring; confusion to order -- get it?
There sometimes comes a moment when the group simply can't figure out how to disengage without some people letting go. When this happens, those who let go become "blind." They must close their eyes and be guided from that point on by other team members -- even into the next exercise! This is seen as a good teambuilding behavior -- those with information assisting those without information.
(Some team "leaders" volunteer others as a sacrifice for the team good. "Igor, you let go now." An optimized team does not command team members to die for it; it does not even ask for volunteers.)
The next exercise may be The Spider's Web. This is done outside. A very long rope is strung between a tree, and then, through a series of loopbacks, is formed into a giant, semicircular spider's web. The strands of the web form perhaps 20 "windows," rather like the zones on a dartboard. The team challenge -- to get every member of the team through the windows without disturbing the ropes. Two corollary rules make it even harder: no window can be used more than once, and some of the players will be "blind" from the previous exercise, and must be helped through, blindfolded. If you touch the web, you become blind.
Another low-ropes exercise example is called Acid River. The team must cross a raging imaginary river of acid. They have a dozen cinder blocks and three or four 4x4 planks. Using the planks, they can make bridges from block to block -- but there are not enough planks to make a complete walkway to safety, so the planks have to be carefully moved back and forth as each person, small group or team makes the treacherous crossing. Again, the exercise inherits however many people went "blind" from the previous exercise -- and anyone stepping off the boards goes blind.
(We have seen games in which everyone is blind by the end. It is a very pathetic sight, grown men and women pathetically groping for a board that is right in front of them -- the blind leading the blind, teammates to the corrosive end. It is pathetic, and wonderful by turns.)
These games are, first and foremost, a lot of fun to play. Most new teams are pretty stiff and formal with one another. They have never met outside the work situation. These games help break the ice, and get people physically involved with one another. We are talking group grope here, and there are moments that will strike those whose noses are blue-hued as risqué, a sort of company-sanctioned Twister.
The lessons people learn in these groups include overcoming fear, overcoming distrust, and the synergistic power of a group working to support the individual. People who do this rave about it. They say it enabled them to do things they could never do. They say it changed their lives. Afterwards there is much hugging, exulting, people saying, "Why didn't we do this years ago?"
Everyone is ecstatic, certain that the lessons of teamwork will naturally translate to something wonderful once they get back to the office.
But ... when the team folds up its ropes and packs away its carabiners and heads back to the city, are they a better team?
In our experience, they are not. People may be friendlier. They may feel that they got to know one another, out of the work setting. They may have lots of good warm fuzzies toward one another -- which is good. They may head back with better intentions to team with one another -- also good.
But they will not be a better team because the mountaineering or web-climbing exercises were not really about teaming. These activities were not developed to improve teamwork. They were developed to explore various dimensions of personal development. They are fantastic for achieving personal breakthroughs with one's own demons and fears. And yes, they are very good at improving one's personal attitudes about being in groups, and allowing oneself to trust others.
But teams are not failing because people have fears and phobias, or are unable, in a broad generic way, to "trust." Teams are failing because members are confused about what their roles are, what their mission is, whether or not they have the authority to do whatever needs to be done.
All this stuff with the carabiners and pulleys is great fun, and personally exhilarating, but pointless. Training firms that sell adventure learning for the personal exploration benefits are giving you your money's worth. Training firms that sell adventure learning for the teambuilding benefits are selling you a bill of goods.
You know the carabiner paperweights you get when you graduate from a high-ropes routine? We know someone with three of them on her credenza. Last time we saw her, she was heading up the mountain again, for a fourth. "It's such a powerful experience," she says.
So why does her team have to keep going back?
"Oh, we've got problems." v
"The Myth of Personality Type"
We can encapsulate this chapter by saying that everything we just said about adventure learning and teambuilding also holds true for the Myers-Briggs Type Inventory.
Adventure learning used mountaineering and other outdoor experiences to provide team members with new understandings about themselves. The Myers-Briggs personality categories also provide every team member with exhilarating new insights into themselves, and a set of initials (e.g., ENTP, ISTJ) that explain what kind of person they are. The Myers-Briggs instrument is more than a piece of paper to enthusiasts -- it becomes the organizing principle of their lives.
Typology is based on the insight that there are many "archetypes" of people, that those types can be tested and defined, and that knowing what type we are relates directly to such down-to-earth business problems as leadership development, career decisions, and just plain getting along with others.
Founded on the insights of pioneer psychoanalyst C.G. Jung, typology holds that people can be divided into two perceiving or input groups (sensors and intuitors) and two judging or processing/output groups (thinkers and feelers). It measures the state of your current nature/nurture stew. Knowing where one falls on the continuum between the extremes can help you in making career moves, in delegating tasks which are beyond you, in hiring and assigning people, and in working to strengthen your lesser talents.
| Introvert/Extrovert | Sensing/Intuition |
| Thinking/Feeling | Perceiving/Judging |
People are different, Jung says, in the different ways they encounter the world. Brpadly speaking, we either intuit or sense as we perceive and learn about the world. Intuitive types grasp the truth of a situation in a flash. They are the mysterious beings who never took notes in class, who guess for success...futuristic and imaginative. Sensing types, conversely, grope toward understanding in a step-by-step concrete way ... here and now.
In addition to these two perception categories, we are also either one of two deciding categories. Quick judges of a situation are called feelers -- emotion is their strong suit. Slow judgers are called thinkers -- their strong suits are logic and method.
Overlaying these personality traits are the categories of Introverts and Extroverts. Where you are on this continuum leads to assumptions about which of the characteristics above one is prone to reveal to others.
The kind of perception you naturally prefer, either sensing or intuition, tends to team up with the kind of judgement you naturally prefer, whether thinking or feeling. The total result is a set of sixteen separate personality types combining the strengths of the eight possible Myers-Briggs categories.
All of us, according to the theory, have two strong sides and two recessive sides. In fact, type psychology breaks us down into dozens of additional characteristic, with lots of hyphens and brackets, superior characteristics and phantom or inferior ones -- striving desperately to make us stereotypes even in our complexity.
Why do we include Typology among our team myths? Because, just like adventure learning, typology has virtually nothing to do with teams.
It is not that personalities are unimportant. In our chapter on behavior differences, we stated that personalities are very different -- and when they clash on the job, in the team, it's bad news.
But the Myers-Briggs Type Inventory does not measure anything that matters to teams. Teams do not rise or fall on how people are (either real or perceived) deep down inside. They rise or fall on what they actually do, how they actually behave toward one another on the outside.
Behavior, si; typology, no.
The false assumptions the Myers-Briggs makes is that personality reliably and consistently reveals itself in outside behaviors. It just ain't so. There are too many confounding life experiences which modify what we are into how we behave. Also, there is a large portion of our population that deludes themselves in terms of how they are viewed by others. They say to themselves, "Oh, I'm an introvert!" Maybe they drive through the neighborhood, shouting "I'm an introvert!" into a bullhorn. But they're wrong (introverts don't do that).
All teams care about is what you do, in real terms, as seen through the eyes of other teammates. What you are inside is your business.
A wise man once said it this way: If one person calls you a horse's ass, well, it's just one person. If two people call you a horse's ass, well, there may be a conspiracy to label you a horse's ass. But if three people call you a horse's ass, you'd better invest in a saddle.
You can better determine what kind of a horse you are by getting behavioral feedback from team members than by filling out the MBTI questionnaire. v
"The Myth that People Like Working Together"
Say you have just been to a galvanizing seminar on teams, or read one of the excellent happy team books that abound on business bookshelves. You are excited about the potential teams have. You decide to "go team" with your colleagues.
You think, if we are to be a team, we must live, eat, breathe, and perform daily ablutions as a team. You tear down the cubicle walls, throw everyone in a pit together, sit back, and wait for those inevitable high-performance team results.
And wait. And wait.
You can wait till the cows come home, and high performance does not. The reason is that -- surprise -- people do not like being thrown into pits en masse.
We began this book with the wistful observation that most people have a real need, deep down, to work together. This is true in the aggregate. But we don't generally like being shackled to one another at the ankle. That's not a team, it's a chain gang.
People -- average Americans, anyway -- need their space to feel calm and safe. Spending the whole day in a playpen with teammates sounds less like a prescription for performance than a French drama of existential ennui.
Some of the most successful team environments we have visited don't feel all that "teamy" at first glance. In one highly successful team-oriented engineering company, the offices of team members are small, dimly lit, quiet, and include two desks facing away from one another. The engineers using the room are in constant contact, sharing information -- but not smelling one another's breath. The overwhelming impression is of seclusion, not Team Monkey Island.
In designing a team environment, do not expect people to crave constant contact with one another. Honor their reluctance to lose their individual identity to the team.
It's a fine line you have to walk. People must be able to access one another instantaneously. There must be no communications snags anywhere. But people need their privacy, too.
Be aware that environment matters. Find out what works. Chances are it will be about midway between the penthouse and the outhouse. v
"The Myth that Teamwork
Is More Productive than Individual Work"
Teams are great. Cuisinarts are also great. But you wouldn't mow your lawn with one.
The great sin of the age of teaming is that people are so high on the idea of teaming that they are asking teams to do everything. A job done by a team is better than a job done by a single individual. You get that synergy going, you know, all that shared information... yeah...
The truth is that teams are inherently inferior to individuals, in terms of efficiency. If a single person has sufficient information to complete a task, he or she will run rings around a team assigned the same task. There are no handoffs to other individuals. No misunderstandings or conflicting cultures. No personality conflicts, unless the individual is a multiple personality (see "Sybil Reengineering").
Beware. Teaming can be bad. Sometimes managers prefer teaming because it spreads accountability around, makes blaming more difficult. Sometimes it means a bigger travel and entertainment budget. Or it means hand-picking team members.
The saddest thing we hear is "We were told we had to do everything as a team." The CEO is all ga-ga about teams, so now unless you do something as a team you're a pariah in your organization. What's sad is that we hear it a lot. Mandatory teaming is misapplied team enthusiasm. It is anencephalic teaming. It is team tyranny, and people resent it. v
"The Myth of 'The More, the Merrier' on Teams"
Some people think that the larger the team, the better the team.
Wrong.
* * *
OK, we'll elaborate a bit (although, a two-sentence chapter on knowing when to stop seems very zen or something).
There is a tendency by some executives to think of their entire organization as a team. This is an interesting expression, but not a useful one. Teams by their very nature can't be big. At some point they stop being teams and become mobs.
Team size is important. Smaller is much better than large. A team can be self-led, leader-led, formal or ad-hoc, but it can't be humongous.
A strategic business unit is usually not a team. SBUs can range from a score of people to several hundred, and they will be cross-functional as all get-out, and they will talk about themselves as a team -- "We've got the Eastman Kodak Unit A Injection Molding and Extrusion Team Spirit!" What they are is a self-contained network of teams.
Harvey was once called in to talk to an SBU. When he entered the room, he saw 74 people sitting in chairs, about eight rows deep. Harvey exhaled.
"OK," he said, "who here is on the team?" All 74 hands went up.
"Uh huh. If something goes wrong, how many people here get into trouble?" This time only about seven hands went up.
"OK. You people are the team. The rest of you are adjuncts. Go home."
For his part, Mike was ghosting a book about the Malcolm Baldrige National Quality Award, and had the opportunity to tour IBM Rochester, which had been touted as winning a giant proportion of points in its Baldrige scoring for its team orientation. The plant head had been quoted as saying that there were over 10,000 teams at the modest facility out on the Minnesota prairie.
So Mike drove to Rochester figuring he would walk down a lot of halls with rooms full of meeting teams. A city of teams. But after three hours of snooping around, he didn't see a single "team." The IBM Rochester definition of team was about as rigid as an amoeba. Whenever two people put their heads together on an ongoing basis, for a week or for a year, officially or unofficially, lean, mean, and transitory, that's a team.
Teams may sometimes seem larger than they are because of the adjuncts and resource personnel. These include:
There are other team myths besides the ones we mention here. The myth that teams are automatically more democratic, or more efficient, than function-oriented groups. The myth that team action can substitute for sound management. The myth that teamwork builds friendship. The myth that healthy competition drives a team to higher heights of performance. The myth that team leadership translates smoothly to leadership on a larger scale.
The point is, so long as we believe things we haven't seen with our own eyes, our teams will be run not by common sense but by wishful thinking. The happy talk team books provide a valuable service by getting people interested in a powerful way of organizing work. But when they paint too rosy a picture, and raise expectations high above the trenches where most of us toil, they don't do anyone a favor -- and in fact do damage to a valuable idea.
Transcompetition: Moving Beyond Competition and Collaboration
by
Harvey Robbins, Michael Finley
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Hardcover, 240 pages
Published by McGraw-Hill
Publication date: April 1, 1998
ISBN: 0070530823
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