“I have played with many players who have succeeded as professionals. I’m not sure that most of them have more talent than many of us. Most are not as good as they think they are. And that may be the secret to their success. I have come to believe that it is their belief in themselves that is the primary reason why they are successful pros and why I am prematurely retired.”
These were the words of a golfer who was once judged the best junior player on the planet but whose professional career went off track when he lost his confidence. We were discussing our shared belief that the best, in any field, simply refuse to succumb to the trappings of self-doubt.
Instead, the best believe that their abilities are not fixed, that they are constantly improving, and that their best days are always in the future. They seem convinced that given the opportunity, no matter the odds, they can build a car, put a man on the moon, or win a Ryder Cup match with the world watching.
Most of us don’t possess that kind of confidence and optimism. Somewhere on our journeys, our dreams were diminished. We allowed ourselves to believe that we were not meant to change the world. We were taught, often unintentionally, not to expect too much - to be practical and to set realistic goals lest we become frustrated and disappointed. I can still remember the teacher who labeled me a non-singer at 13 years of age after listening to only five notes. Unfortunately, I believed her, and I have spent the last half-century proving her right.
Maybe I would have been a non-singer no matter how the teacher reacted to my off-key intro to her favorite Christmas carol. However, what seems unmistakably true decades later, is that the expectations of our teachers affect how we think and what we think is possible. We know that expectations matter. Expectancy theory has been memorialized in stories told throughout history. It is the myth of Pygmalion. It is the story in the play My Fair Lady and the movie Pretty Women. The beliefs of others can have an outsized effect on our lives.
It is our shared belief in the power of expectations that make it all the more curious that, as leaders, we systemically expect so little from so many. Too often, we depend on inherent leadership practices that rely on fear to control or incent performance and we are far too accepting of the waste of human potential that results.
When we limit the number of high grades a teacher can award in a class, when we unnecessarily limit decision-making authority, when we use incentives to motivate or control, or when we build internally competitive cultures where one person’s success necessitates another’s failure, we are communicating a set of expectations nearly guaranteed to disappoint. When we set goals that are attainable with modest effort, we are telling people that modest effort is all that is expected. It is not that we intend to promote mediocrity - but we do with distressing regularity.
The best leaders we encountered in our recently completed study of more than 700 leaders, refuse to fall victim to the tyranny of moderate expectations. They expect more from people than most people expect of themselves. They are demanding. For them, mediocrity is the enemy never to be tolerated. They look for the best in every person and they work to create an environment where people reach deep to find that person. They believe that there is greatness in every person just waiting for the opportunity to excel. Their confidence in themselves and those they hope to influence is contagious. For them, creating a culture where people can reach their potential is not a tactic, it is nothing less than a moral imperative.
Arnold Palmer was once asked what he would tell a young golfer if he could only give that person one piece of advice. He said that every day he would tell that golfer “that they can play.” He would ensure that the aspiring player understood that greatness was within his or her grasp if he or she did the work. He believed that parents, coaches, teachers, and leaders are more impactful than they realize - that their beliefs were contagious. He understood that confidence can take years to develop but can be undermined in a fraction of the time by people in authority who often mindlessly underestimate the ability of ordinary people to make extraordinary contributions.
I have often advocated building cultures where people face tough issues quickly and strive to see the world as it is - and not as we wished it were. That still feels sound. We need to see reality in order to change effectively. However, I now believe that we must also be willing to see the world through rose-colored glasses that might seem unrealistic to most. It is the confident belief in the power of a team to do what others consider unrealistic that is the secret to doing the remarkable. “We may not be as good as we think we are” but sometimes, it is our collective, unfounded confidence that can enable us to change the rules of the game that others find limiting.