Have you ever tried running while looking over your shoulder?
I have.
My path drifts right or left.
Uncertain where I’m heading, I slow down.
And invariably, because I’m not watching what’s approaching, I stumble and, sometimes, fall flat on my face.
Sounds a lot like how many of us try to manage, wouldn’t you say?
Have you ever been the person responsible for someone running while he looks over his shoulder? I remember times when one of my children would run ahead of me in a crowded shopping mall. “Be careful!” I’d call. Looking back at me, still running, he or she assured me they would … only to run smack into an unsuspecting — and annoyed — shopper.
“You shouldn’t have been running,” I can remember saying. That, of course, was true.
And it completely ignored my role in the story.
As the Beatles wrote, see how they run.
For hour after hour every day, in every newsroom I’ve ever heard about, visited or worked in, people are running as fast as they can — faster, in fact, than ever. Watch them: running to stories, running to meetings, running to deadline.
See how they run.
No — really — look at them.
They’re running — far too often — while looking over their shoulders.
Looking for direction.
Looking for encouragement.
Looking for clarity.
Indeed, at a time when the people in our newsrooms have never been busier — trying to do more with less, learning new skills on the job and struggling to deliver results immediately — the need for clarity has never been greater.
Look what happens to the work of a mid-level editor, for example, in the absence of clarity:
- Decisions take longer to make.
- Coverage gets inconsistent, lacks expertise and is more prone to errors.
- Their staffs, lacking a consistent sense of direction, require longer conversations — time you don’t have.
But talk with a group of mid-level editors about exactly what is expected of them, and many will say they’re not always sure.
Frequently in seminars, I ask participants to write a brief description of their job responsibilities. Not what they do on the job, but what they’re responsible for achieving. A city editor might write: “To inform readers of our newspaper and Web site about the events and issues that are having an impact on our community’s life. And to explain those events and issues in a way that allows readers to participate more fully in the life of the community.”
Then I ask them to write down one question they have about how they should be carrying out their jobs. Here are composites of some typical questions:
- Even though my staff has been reduced in recent months, we’re expected to take on additional work — like filing throughout the day for the Web. What am I supposed to stop doing? Or am I just expected to get it all done at a reduced level of quality?
- I work a late shift and inherit the stories assigned by other editors earlier in the day. How much freedom do I have to change the direction or focus of the stories I inherit?
- My editor tells me she wants me to follow my instincts and ask her fewer questions. But she often sends me what I find to be conflicting signals about the decisions I’m making. How should I manage through this?
Lots of questions, one common request: Help me know what I should do.
Please don’t read that the editors posing these questions are indecisive people, afraid to give their staffs direction or make tough calls. They make dozens of tough — and good — decisions every day. But they make them despite the questions, doubts and anxieties that result from mixed signals and vague instructions — most of the time from superiors who believe they’re being absolutely clear about what they want.
What’s going on here?
In part, the lack of clarity among editors and their bosses reflects the overall sense of uncertainty in the business. Why are readers canceling subscriptions? How do we attract new audiences to our Web sites? How can we tackle the challenges of publishing on multiple platforms while our revenues are declining?
In such an atmosphere, it’s not surprising that newsroom leaders are finding it difficult to communicate a consistent sense of direction to their mid-level editors and other journalists.
Listening closely to mid-level editors, however, suggests they understand they’re not likely to get THE ANSWER from their bosses. What they want is guidance — a sense of shared approach — on how to make tough decisions about news coverage, management of resources, personnel issues.
Currently, too many mid-level editors are attempting to extract that guidance from the comments, criticisms and decisions they hear their bosses making.
They hear the boss question why a crime story was played on Page One and they deduce that crime stories don’t belong there.
They hear the boss characterize a political-process story as boring and they file away a mental note to avoid stories about political processes.
They hear the boss cite statistics showing the popularity of breaking news on the Web — and the unpopularity of in-depth analysis — and they decide to apply the same findings to the paper.
There is, of course, a better way to do this.
Let’s talk.
When I ask participants in seminars who in their organizations has the answer to their questions about how to carry out their jobs, they invariably answer: “My boss.” When I ask if they have asked the boss for an answer, most say no. Others say yes, but they don’t often get a clear answer.
Let’s talk. And then let’s keep talking. The search for clarity is a complex one — unlikely to be found in a five-minute, or even a two-hour, conversation.
But you might find it over time — if you work on building a relationship.
Here are some thoughts about how you might get started:
- SCHEDULE A CONVERSATION with your boss and share with him — with as much specificity as possible — the questions you find yourself struggling with most often. Are you worried that the additional work your staff is doing has hurt the overall quality of the news report? Are you confused about your role and that of a fellow editor? Are you unsure how — and how often — the boss wants you to communicate with her about tough decisions? Don’t just dump your questions and run — come prepared to propose answers.
- SEEK CLARITY. If your boss’s responses to your questions are unclear, try restating what you think you’ve heard, and give the boss a chance to answer again. Then restate what you heard. The goal is not to agree on a set of iron-clad rules; the goal is to develop a shared approach that you can use to make decisions and direct your staff consistently.
- BUILD A COMMON VOCABULARY. Finding specific words to describe your shared objectives for stories, beats and company initiatives will help produce a shared approach. Explaining the problem with a story by saying “It doesn’t work for me” offers little information for improvement.
- SCHEDULE REGULAR CHECK-INS: Agree to spend 15 minutes together weekly (or daily, if you prefer) to review decisions you made and seek feedback about them. Consistent decision-making, over time, will reinforce the sense of shared approach.
- BEWARE SECOND-GUESSING. Avoid the temptation of slipping back into decision-making based on criticisms overheard during a meeting or passing conversation. If a comment attributed to the boss gets back to you, don’t make assumptions. Ask her — and reconcile the feedback with the shared approach you’ve agreed to.
Most of all, start talking. It doesn’t matter who initiates the conversation, as long as it begins — and continues. Since neither mid-level editors nor their bosses have an unlimited amount of time to meet and analyze decisions, short check-ins can become invaluable ways of checking how well you’re keeping your staff on course.
And, mid-level editors, one last thing:
How clear is your staff about what you expect of them? Are they making assumptions based on your criticisms during editing? Your comments about a company initiative? Inside information from one of their colleagues?
Maybe it’s time to schedule a talk. Listen to the questions they have about your expectations for them. Offer them specifics to approach with greater confidence the decisions they need to make each day.
You might not be able to stop them from running. But you can make their jobs easier.
Help them stop looking over their shoulders.