Vulnerability & Pretension

Hans Christian Anderson's story of the Emperor's New Clothes always made me uncomfortable. In the narrative, a vain king is duped into buying a luxurious gown by a pair of con-men, who declare that it would only be invisible to idiots. Not wanting to appear idiotic himself, of course, the emperor eagerly purchases the imaginary outfit and parades himself down the boulevard before his confused subjects, who obligingly keep up the pretense.

Only a small child is immune to the pressure to conform, making the obvious observation that the emperor is wearing nothing but his whitie tities.

The story is uncomfortable to me because it feels so familiar. I often embrace patterns and perspectives simply because others expect it, struggling to differentiate myself in tense situations. I instinctively yearn to fit in rather than risk standing out, as the fear of disappointing and the desire to please are among the strongest human inclinations.

I'll soon be leading a training session on leadership at a large energy company that wishes to build trust among their ranks. Even the best corporations are comprised of humans beings who require a specific kind of environment in order to trust peers and management, which can be so difficult that many organizations never attain it. And their productivity suffers greatly.

My approach will mirror that of leadership guru Patrick Lencioni, who shows how trust can only arise through vulnerability. Employees must be rewarded for taking risks, in such ways as asking for help, acknowledging their mistakes or limitations, and both seeking and giving performance feedback. They must force themselves to look one another in the eyeballs and tell the truth about their concerns, questions, and needs, or they'll spend an inordinate amount of time and energy trying to look like they have it all together instead of actually building solid relationships through which to attain goals.

Vulnerability is in short supply in our culture.

In my years as a graduate student and then manager of a large team, I operated under the assumption that leaders were supposed to be unwavering cyborgs who always have the right answer and are unmoved by obstacles. This is unbelievably exhausting, because you end up wasting all kinds of time and energy trying to look good instead of enabling others to compliment your shortcomings and work with you to actually address and solve problems on the team. And it's contagious, as duplicity puts immense pressure on others to follow "suit."

Americas political landscape is littered with the dirty laundry of invisible clothes. When addressing the serious problem of race, which continues to be a hot-button issue today, we often settle for bumper-sticker monologue rather than open dialogue. Honesty is devalued. If you dare scrutinize the dominant gown of dogma that surrounds this historic evil, you're made to feel subhuman, called names, and rejected as naive. People are either good or bad, saviors or oppressors, and so there's very little space for questioning the status quo. Instead of ensuring effectiveness by inviting diverse opinions about solutions, we demand conformity by threat of character assassination.

In a recent blog post, I honestly questioned some aspects of the dominant approach to dealing with racism because I fear that it makes the problem worse by fostering animus and mistrust among people that it seeks to unite. One would think that such scrutiny is welcome in a nation that allowed itself to be maintain slave ownership long after many became aware of the error (including slave owner Thomas Jefferson), but not so. For simply raising concerns, I've been called an ignorant white supremacist, who's skin color negates my racist perspective, even though it mirrors that of many people of color who also smell a rat in today's divisive and vitriolic racial "dialogue."

Think of an administrative assistant who knows that his company could save thousands of dollars every year if he were trained to use a new software. But to request such training is to admit a flaw that could render him unfit for his position, he fears, and so he'd rather utilize outdated software that requires unnecessary time and resources.

Or how about the captain of a high school basketball team who wasn't paying attention in practice but is too insecure to ask her teammates or coach to reexplain the new plays they learned for the big game. She chooses to botch the plays during the game rather than humbly admit her need for the right information. When she messes things up, she blames her teammates, because she believes that accountability and vulnerability will be punished instead of rewarded.

As hard as it is, we must be able to see where we end and others begin, so that we don't confuse our vulnerability with the unhealthy reactions of others. Your peers may expect you to be perfect or withhold your concerns, needs, or perspectives, but doing so will make you a co-dependent, enabling a dysfunction that will force your whole organization to strut around naked while pretending to wear tuxedos.

Healthy leaders find a way to differentiate, to avoid getting enmeshed in the attitudes of those around them in order to tell the truth. They discover how to live in their own skin, to sleep at night knowing that they can control themselves but not the reactions of others. They are clothed with principal, not the invisible need to please.

As angry as vulnerability will make those who prefer the relative safety of pretension, it will spread like wildfire if we don't give up. Because at the end of the day, no one really wants to be seen on main street in their skivvies.

Matthew M. Anderson is the author of Running Mate and The Marriage Plan. A speaker and leadership coach, Matt is the pastor of Surprise Church in Bismarck, ND, where he lives with his wife and three children. Learn more at MatthewManderson.com.