Don Sull's blog

A few years ago, I was helping top executives at an American bank to identify opportunities to grow revenues. To solicit ideas, we staged a version of the Dragons’ Den. Teams of middle managers played the role of entrepreneurs, pitching their business plans to a group of senior executives. In their role as dragons, the executives assessed the opportunities, balanced upside against risk, and evaluated the feasibility of the plan to execute. The best teams received funding and management support to pursue their opportunity.

Many of the presentations were good, some were bad, and a few were downright ugly. What struck me most, however, was how the teams spoke about customers. Instead of describing real people–”Nancy” or “Jim”-the teams spoke about “The Customer” in abstract terms like a philosopher discussing “The Other.” Viewing customers as an abstraction paved the way for teams to make sweeping (and often unwarranted) generalizations about their concerns, preferences, and appetite for new products. Customers were forecast to embrace cross-selling, not because it solved a pressing problem for them, but because cross-selling helped the bank.

Listening to the presentations, I jotted down the verbs each team used to describe what they would do to (not for or with) “The Customer.” The list included “cross-sell,” “leverage,” “squeeze,” “exploit,” and “penetrate.” At this point, I could contain myself no longer, and interrupted the proceedings to explain that I was not a client of the bank and never would be, since I had no intention to let anyone in the bank exploit-let alone penetrate-me.

The tendency to describe “The Other” in abstract terms is depressingly common, extending beyond customers to include competitors, regulators, non-governmental organizations, and investors. One leading consumer software company, for example, calls customers “sockets,” who presumably live their lives just waiting to get screwed. In the span of a 45 minute speech, to give another example, the COO of a major fast moving consumer goods company referred to the company’s distributors, as “those bastards” no fewer than three times.

Viewing others in abstract terms blunts our ability to empathize. Empathy does not mean being nice, but rather describes the capacity to put yourself in another person’s shoes and view the situation from their perspective. Individuals and teams that lack empathy consistently miscalculate how others will act, because they misunderstand others players’ perspectives, motivations, and constraints. Those who can empathize, in contrast, can better understand a messy situation and anticipate how events might unfold.

After the failure of the Bay of Pigs invasion, President John Kennedy commissioned a study to answer a simple question: “How could a group of pretty smart guys make such a dumb decision?” (It would be no bad thing if other presidents followed Kennedy’s example and periodically reviewed and improved their decision making process). Kennedy’s advisers, the study showed, misunderstood the situation because they speculated about Castro’s response, without any first-hand knowledge of the Cuban leader.

The first days of the Cuban Missile Crisis looked like the Bay of Pigs all over again. In early discussions, Kennedy’s military advisers argued “The Soviet” wanted war and respected only force. Determined to avoid making the same mistake twice, Kennedy invited Llewellyn “Tommy” Thompson, a former ambassador to the Soviet Union, into the deliberations. Kennedy wanted someone in the room who could see the situation from the Khrushchev’s perspective, and Thompson knew the Soviet leader personally.

While the generals pounded the table and insisted “The Soviet” were intent on war, Thompson disagreed. Thompson did not refer to “The Soviet” at all, but instead talked about Nikita, who Thompson argued, had suffered the deprivations of two world wars, and had no interest in starting a third. Putting himself into Khrushchev’s shoes, Thompson speculated that the Soviet leader had placed the missiles in Cuba impulsively, found himself backed into a corner, and would withdraw the missiles if provided with a face-saving way to back down.

Fortunately, Kennedy valued Thompson’s view. Rather than order an air strike or invasion, Kennedy authorized a naval blockade to buy time, and made a back-channel offer that allowed Khrushchev to declare victory even as he removed the missiles from Cuba. Empathy, in this case, helped prevent nuclear war.