sensors” who can tell them the difference between what is ex-
pected and what is really going on.
Actually, leaders tend to come in two sizes: those who hire
reflectors, clones who will mirror the leader’s opinions and de-
sires, and those who hire compensators, people who have com-
plementary views of the organization and the society. John
Sculley, who is a dreamer, hired a real manager to be his COO.
But even when these compensators are on hand, it isn’t easy to
get them to speak up. Sam Goldwyn, after six consecutive box
office flops, brought together his staff and said, “I want you to
tell me exactly what’s wrong with me and MGM. Even if it
means losing your job.” The people around a leader are all too
aware of what they perceive as the dangers in speaking up. More
than forty years ago, when Nikita Khruschev visited America,
he gave a press conference at the Washington Press Club. The
first question from the floor—handled through an interpreter—
was: “Today you talked about the hideous rule of your predeces-
sor, Stalin. You were one of his closest aides and colleagues
during those years. What were you doing all that time?” Khr-
uschev’s face got red. “Who asked that?” he roared. All 500
faces turned down. “Who asked that?” he insisted. Silence.
“That’swhat I was doing,” he said. One of the tragedies of most
organizations is that people will let the leaders make mistakes
even when they themselves know better.
To counteract this tendency, leaders must be like former
Herman Miller CEO Max De Pree, who abandoned himself to
the wild ideas of others. Or like Barbara Corday, who encour-
aged dissent by blending with her staff. Seeing her sit in a room
with them, you couldn’t pick her out as the boss, unless you
knew in advance.
Forging the Future