Camp Self-Esteem

"Those who say winning isn't everything have probably never won anything."
- Anonymous

Somewhere over the quicksilver years since 1980, many of us have slowly forfeited basic behavior manifested in the once insatiable need to triumph. A doctrine that took root innocently with parents and leaders of the '80s and '90s has become an accepted disposition. These lost years have sanctioned the message that "trying is good enough." In these times, when our third grader strikes out, our first response may be "Its OK, honey, at least you tried." At risk of stirring a minor firestorm among our weekly readers, let's at least consider that "trying" is lying. There it is, the bare wood on the surface.

How as a society did we buy the notion that "trying" is a word that rationalizes failure? It's one of the greatest myths we can bestow upon a child or a peer. "It doesn't matter whether we win or not, just as long as we tried" might arguably be one of the most harmful messages in the history of leadership. In truth when climbing toward any objective, we either succeed or we don't. There is no midpoint. Trying is a statement of activity, not a measure of outcome. However imperious the suggestion, its something the Chinese know and we've forgotten. Just spend an hour in a classroom there.

Balancing the equation lies the consolation and motivation of accepting that lack of immediate response or temporary frustration are not failure, but instead, nothing more than feedback we require to modify our plans or our methods. "I tried" is on the other hand, the signature of a quitter. It says we've either given up, or mistaken activity for triumph. It may be a good place in this weekly treatise to suggest we drop the phrase "I tried." Until they hold an annual awards ceremony for "Best Tries," there's no realistic place for this halfway house between a dream and its actualization.

Here are a couple of core disciplines that may change the way you walk the road. First, use negative feedback to make positive course corrections. When the first moon shot was launched in 1969, NASA realized a vision born a decade earlier. On the way to a perfect lunar landing, NASA's command center made no less than one thousand course vectors. Instead of saying, "We're off course -- let's bring 'em back," they made instant, albeit tiny, corrections to navigate the trajectory. So long as you keep moving, making minor course corrections in your forced march toward a goal, you'll be virtually unstoppable.

A second core discipline for turning trying into flying comes with the premise that you need to cut short your temporary defeats and run your wins long. This means knowing when to regroup, involve tactical teams, change direction, or even pull the plug on a flawed plan. When someone strikes out, don't practice the "it's OK, you did your best" mantra. It's not OK, and your staff knows it. Teach yourself and your people to shake off temporary failure and get on with it. If we get a pat on the back for being unsuccessful, what creates the passion to perform next time?

In the end, we only need to be right 51% of the time to be successful. There is no reward for trying, only for doing. In the immortal words of Thoreau, "I would rather live my life in the heights and depths, than exist in the gray abyss that falls between."