Don McMinn

In a now-famous article titled “Management Time: Who’s Got the Monkey?” (Harvard Business Review, November, 1974), authors Oncken and Wass created a clever and memorable illustration on how a person can unwittingly accept responsibility for activities that should be handled by others.

In the illustration, the “monkey” is simply the next move. It is not the problem, or the project, or the goal, or the desired result; it is the next step.

Read the three scenarios below and picture a monkey leaping from the back of the direct report, teenager, and repairman to the shoulders of the boss, mom, and homeowner. Once you visualize the long-tailed primate jumping from one person to another, you’ll never forget the illustration. Since becoming aware of this phenomenon, sometimes in conversations I can almost feel the weight of a monkey as it jumps from my back onto someone else’s or from their back to mine.

• Imagine that you’re walking toward your office when one of your direct reports approaches and says, “I’m not sure how to handle a problem we’re having on a project.” You reply, “Let me think about it and I’ll get back with you.” The monkey is now on your back.
• Imagine that your teenager approaches you and says, “Mom, I can’t find my baseball shirt.” You reply, “I may have put it in the washing machine, let me check.” The monkey is now on your back.
• Imagine that you’re having some repair work done at your house and the repairman says, “I’m not sure this repair will meet city code.” You reply, “I’ll call the city and ask.” The monkey is now on your back.

I fall into this monkey-on-my-back trap often because 1) I like to do things myself, 2) sometimes I think I can do a better job at certain things than others can, and 3) I’m a people pleaser so I’m inclined to do people’s jobs for them.

When we allow employees, children, workers, and friends to handle their own monkeys, they will grow, acquire new skills, become more responsible, and more work will get done. And we’ll have more time to do those things that only we should do and more discretionary time to enjoy life.

Here’s a copy of the article.

When Orville and Wilbur Wright finally succeeded in keeping their homemade airplane in the air for 59 seconds on December 17, 1903, they rushed a telegram to their sister in Dayton, Ohio and told her of their great accomplishment: “First sustained flight today; fifty-nine seconds. Hope to be home for Christmas.” Their sister was so excited about her brothers’ success, she rushed to the newspaper office and gave the telegram to the editor. The next morning—believe it or not—the newspaper headline stated in bold letters: “Popular Local Bicycle Merchants to Be Home for Holidays!”

We are both amused and incredulous at the editor’s oversight. How did he not notice the most important news? But we all suffer from inattentiveness. We see but don’t observe. A friend or family member demonstrates subtle pleas for help but we don’t notice. Our priorities are upside down so we focus on unimportant issues and neglect critical ones. We don’t see the forest for the trees or the trees for the forest.   

Sherlock Holmes once admonished Dr. Watson for failing to know how many steps lead up to the door of their Baker Street flat: “You have not observed, and yet you have seen.” Watson, like Holmes, had gone up and down those steps hundreds of times, but only Holmes knew that there were 17 of them. The number of steps was not Holmes’s point-–it was that Watson was on automatic pilot.

Let’s slow down and be more observant. Let’s look for the important.  In conversations, let’s pay attention to subtle innuendoes and feelings not expressed. 

There is a species of fish – the Japanese carp, known as the Koi – that will grow in size only in proportion to the size of the body of water it is in. When placed in a small aquarium the fish will grow to be two or three inches long. If placed in a larger tank, it will grow to six to ten inches. When placed in a large lake, it can reach its full size of two or three feet in length.

In like manner, your environment can inhibit and limit your personal growth and development. It may be the job you’re in—although you feel secure and the work is tolerable, you’re stuck in a mind-numbing environment and your head is hitting the proverbial glass ceiling. It may be the town you live in—the provincial mentality is stifling. The friends you associate with may be stymying—you may need a more intellectually invigorating group.

But the right environment can stimulate your growth and help you reach your potential. Fortunately, you do have control over this dimension of life; you can choose where you work, you can move to a city that inspires you, and you can choose friends that will stretch you.

To illustrate this idea, I’ll use two of my family members.

After graduating from college, my daughter, Lauren, made some bold moves that placed her in a “large pond.” First, she moved from a small college town in Texas to New York City. She got a nice and adequate job, but after working there for a few years, she realized she needed a greater challenge, so she went to work at American Express. Soon, AMEX moved her to Singapore for a year, then back to NYC. In the meantime, she completed a master’s degree from Columbia. Can you sense the mix of challenges, thrills, fear, insecurities and joys involved in making these moves? But she grew a lot during those years.

My son-in-law, Jonathan, is a board certified emergency room physician. He has served two tours-of-duty in the Navy. One of his tours of duty was at Camp Bastion in Afghanistan–at that time, the busiest trauma center in the world. He saw more and learned more in nine months than some physicians would see and learn in a lifetime here in the states. He got into a large pond.

Don’t underestimate the courage it takes to change environments and the effort it takes to adjust to a new one. It can be intimidating and challenging. You may even fail. But it’s worth the risk and effort. Life is too short to waste; it’s not a dress rehearsal, and it’s the only one you get.

You don’t want this written on your tombstone: Died, 55 years old; buried, 70 years old.

A friend of mine became Senior Pastor at a large church. The church had a crushing debt; it was near bankruptcy. He was not responsible for creating the financial debacle, but from the day he became Pastor he was responsible for cleaning it up.   

Another friend has a son that made some stupid mistakes. As a father, he’ll be involved in working through the challenges.

In the course of life, we’ll become responsible for finding solutions to problems we did not create. Sometimes, we’ll have a choice whether or not to accept the challenge (like my pastor friend), but often we won’t (like my friend whose son made poor choices).

It takes firm resolve, optimism, and tenacity to stay the course in these situations—my friend pastored the financially troubled church for 20 years. It is also a deep expression of love: to suffer with a person or group of people in this way is an act of unselfish, even sacrificial love.  

Christ is the personification of what I’m talking about in this post.