Don McMinn

Sir Ernest Henry Shackleton was a polar explorer who led four expeditions exploring Antarctica. He is best known for his 1914-1916 attempt to traverse the Antarctic which, although unsuccessful, became famous as a story of remarkable perseverance and survival.

There are many books about the Endurance Expedition (Endurance is the name of the ship), and they all portray Shackleton as an exemplary leader. But I recently watched a documentary that caused me to think differently. [Shackleton’s Captain on Amazon Prime. The film focuses on the ship’s captain, Frank Worsley, who was the second in command under Shackleton.]

On October 26, 1914, the Endurance left Buenos Aires, headed for Antarctica. Eleven days later it arrived at South Georgia Island, a Norwegian whaling station. The whalers there reported that the early summer was colder than usual and the ice conditions to the south were the worst they had ever seen. They strongly advised Shackleton not to go, but he ignored their advice and ordered the ship to continue on the journey. Days later they encountered pack ice a thousand miles farther north than expected. It was ludicrous to continue, but despite the pleas of the ship’s captain, he insisted that they continue south.

It was a terrible mistake. Within days the ship became trapped in ice. As one crew member said, “We felt like an almond stuck in the middle of a chocolate bar.” The ice eventually crushed the ship and the 28 members of the expedition had to abandon ship and set up camp on floating ice. For the next two years they struggled to survive unthinkable challenges. Remarkably, the entire crew made it back safely. 

But why did Shackleton risk the lives of his men?

Historians note that before the expedition, Shackleton had trouble at home—he was having an affair with an American actress and his brother was convicted of fraud that might incriminate Ernest—so he needed to create a new narrative about his life. Furthermore, it would have been a blow to his ego to abandon or even postpone the trip.

He was also profoundly self-promoting. Before the ship set sail, he had each crew member sign over all rights to their journals and diaries. He made sure all publicity promoted him as the hero. However, the real hero of the expedition was Frank Worsley, the captain. (Shackleton was inexperienced at sea, having never even been in a medium-sized boat.) But few people know of the valiant work of Worsley. 

It’s commendable for a leader to lead well in the midst of a crisis (think Churchill during WW2), but if the crisis was avoidable and caused by the leader, there’s no glory in that. 

Amos (Tversky) liked to say that if you are asked to do anything—go to a party, give a speech, lift a finger—you should never answer right away, even if you are sure that you want to do it. “Wait a day,” Amos said, “and you’ll be amazed how many of those invitations you would have accepted yesterday, you’ll refuse after you have had a day to think it over.” [The Undoing Project, Michael Lewis, page 196]

Often, decisions  must be made quickly.

• • • Some decisions are trivial and inconsequential. When ordering at a restaurant, just choose. 
    • Some decisions must be made quickly. If your car needs a battery, buy one.
    • With some decisions, the right choice is obvious so there’s no benefit in delaying. Change your route to avoid stalled traffic.

But most decisions can be delayed, and doing so may produce a better and more confident choice.

Postponing even for 24-48 hours is enough time to help avoid impulsive and rash decisions. Often, our emotions inordinately affect our decisions and cause us to make bad choices that we later regret. But emotions are short-lived; delay decisions and emotions will subside. For instance, if you’re overly excited about something, or charmed by someone, or fearful, or feel intimidated or coerced—wait a few hours and the emotions will dissipate and you can make a more rational decision.   

This principle should also inform how we ask others to make decisions. When asking people to make an important decision, don’t ask for an immediate response; give them ample time to study the implications and think through options. It’s respectful to say, “I need you to make a decision about an issue. Let me share, right now, all the facts I know, and then take time to think about it and let me know when you’re comfortable making the decision.”

For sure, push the pause button when making important decisions about your time, money, future, reputation, and values.

Problem: Nothing was more sacred aboard a ship than respecting the chain of command. On a ship, the captain reigns supreme. — Slade

Solution: In industries in which human error can lead to devastating consequences, it’s important to foster good communication that respects the hierarchy while allowing room for debate. No one makes a decision in a vacuum. — Slade

In her book, Into the Raging Sea, Rachel Slade describes the events leading up to the sinking of the container ship El Faro in 2015. It was the largest U.S. maritime accident since World War II. The incompetent and egotistical captain, Michael Davidson, steered the ship directly into the eye of Hurricane Joaquin. Thirty foot waves and 120-mph winds sank the ship and all 33 crew members died. The recovered black box had recorded 26 hours of conversation on the navigation bridge leading up to the sinking. The audio recording revealed that every officer and many of the crew on board knew the captain was making a fatal mistake, but no one spoke up because in maritime culture it is unacceptable to challenge a captain’s decisions. It is inappropriate to speak truth to power. 

It takes extreme courage to speak truth to power. Even for those who possess solid emotional fortitude, it can be challenging and uncomfortable. It can also be hazardous to your reputation and livelihood. Rarely does someone in authority seek out voices of opposition and when those voices speak without invitation or permission, they are often sanctioned. If the issues are major and the stakes high, it’s wise to have a back-up plan in case “power” overreacts. 

To be balanced and fair, sometimes the “truth-speaker” is misguided or uninformed, has an agenda to advance, or has impure motives for challenging authority. But more times than not, authority’s intimidation silences sound input.   

Twenty five years ago I served on staff at a church where the former pastor had led the church to build a 7,000-seat auditorium (the old sanctuary seated 1,100), and the church went from being debt-free to paying $50,000 per week in interest on the new loan. Interestingly, God “called the pastor into evangelism” several months before the building project was finished. 

How did this happen? Why didn’t businesspersons in the church speak up when they saw the impending train wreck? Two issues were responsible: he was a very charismatic person who could easily beguile people, and there were no checks and balances built into the governance of the church. Surely someone had doubts, but no one spoke truth to power. We (newly appointed staff members) were tasked with cleaning up the mess, which was virtually impossible.

The antidote to this toxic social disorder is continuous robust discussion. When robust discussion is part of the culture, unilateral mistakes are seldom made. But in its absence, someone needs to speak up. 

I’ll end with a story that illustrates the power of open and unfiltered conversation. 

In the 1980s Delta Air Lines suffered a series of embarrassing incidents involving pilot error. “We didn’t kill anyone,” said Jack Maher, then-head of pilot training, “but we’d had pilots get lost, landing at the wrong airports.” The incidents almost always could be traced back to a bad decision made by a Delta captain.

They hired psychologist Amos Tversky to help solve the problem. Amos told them, “You’re not going to change people’s decision making under duress. You aren’t going to stop pilots from making these mental errors.” He suggested that Delta change its decision-making environments. At that time, the cockpit culture of a commercial airliner did not encourage crew members to point out the mental errors of the man in charge. The way to stop the captain from landing the plane in the wrong airport, Tversky insisted, was to train others in the cockpit to question his judgment. 

Mayer said, “We changed the culture in the cockpit and the autocratic jerk became no longer acceptable. Those mistakes haven’t happened since” [from The Undoing Project by Michael Lewis, page 317].

When done appropriately and respectfully, I see little downside to speaking truth to power.

The American Psychological Association defines fundamental attribution error (FAE) as the tendency to overestimate the relationship between people’s behavior and their character and underestimate the relationship between their behavior and their circumstances. It also suggests that when we judge ourselves we tend to do the opposite: we underestimate the role that character plays and overestimate the influence of circumstances. 

When someone else messes up we are quick to judge him and attribute his problem to something wrong with his character; we tend to think that people do bad things because they are bad people. But when we look at ourselves in the same situation, rather than blame our character, we consider our circumstances.  

For instance, imagine you’re driving down the road when a reckless driver cuts you off and speeds forward, barely missing several other cars. You immediately think he’s a jerk, has anger problems, or may be inebriated; you assume his bad behavior is due to poor character. But if you knew that the driver has an injured person in the backseat and is rushing to the hospital, your judgment is informed by his circumstances, and you judge him differently.

When a colleague is late to a meeting we tend to label it as a character flaw (he’s inconsiderate, disorganized, self-absorbed); but when we’re late to a meeting, we justify it based on circumstances (our previous meeting ran late, traffic is bad, we had to finish a conversation with a customer). We tend to cut ourselves slack while holding others 100% accountable for their actions.

Sometimes behavior is linked to character and sometimes behavior is linked to circumstances. FAE simply suggests that when judging other people, we have a cognitive bias—we default to the behavior/character link and when we judge ourselves we favor the behavior/circumstances link. 

To correct for this error it’s helpful to invent a story that creates a positive explanation for people’s behavior. For instance, the next time someone cuts you off in traffic, think: “I hope he makes it to the hospital in time.” When someone doesn’t return your call, instead of thinking “He’s an inconsiderate jerk” think of some good reasons why he hasn’t called you back: perhaps he’s struggling with a major life-issue, or traveling for work, or he honestly just forgot to return your call.

We should presume benevolence toward others; we should choose to imagine a noble intent. 

We need to give each other a break.

Here’s a short video on the subject created by the UT Austin McCombs School of Business.