Originally published on CEO World.
The leadership development industry—or the Keynote Cartel, as I call them—is composed mainly of professors, behavioral scientists, researchers and consultants. Their books on leadership, while popular, have misled us all into believing that, to be an effective leader, you need to ‘feel things’ a certain way. As a result, they manufactured a set of emotional prerequisites for anyone who aspires to lead collections of people. Things like vulnerability, authenticity, charisma, and a long list of other traits that function as gatekeeping criteria for leadership roles. In the process, they’ve screened out a significant share of the people whose actual capabilities are exactly what businesses are going to need most in the very near future.
Early in my career, I had a boss who was different. The word I used to describe Beth, for the longest time, was “distant.” She seemed constantly preoccupied, unemotional, even aloof. It bothered me at first. I wanted to connect with her the same way I had with other bosses. I wanted her to be my number one fan. But Beth wasn’t having any of it. Yeah, it bothered me.
But while Beth was never going to win the Miss Congeniality award for leadership, she was extremely adept at other things. Notably, Beth spent a lot of time observing me as I did my job. I mean, A LOT. She never provided on-the-spot feedback. Just watched me work, asked questions, and took notes. Several weeks later, she delivered a document that outlined the patterns she had observed and how I could improve in some key areas where I was deficient. She also listed the things I was proficient in, not in a celebratory way, but as matter-of-factly as possible.
Now, I thought I was better than anyone else at my job because I was consistently performing well. In fact, I was far exceeding all of my targets. Deficiencies? What was she talking about? But I set aside my ego and tried to be open-minded about it. After all, it was a meticulously prepared report and she clearly put a lot of effort into it. Long story short, I was blown away by Beth’s pattern recognition coming from her numerous observations of me. The way she incisively called out my gaps while giving me actions that I could immediately take to improve left me stunned. She made it all very easy. I was bent on being the best at my craft and saw these recommendations as the path toward improvement. Her insights and recommendations were right on the money. Within 45 days, all of my performance metrics were hitting new benchmarks, not just for me, but for the company.
Beth strategically delegated some of her responsibilities to me that were well beyond the scope of my role and my skill level but aligned with my career aspirations. She helped me when I had questions or got hung up on something. Those tasks gave me a chance to see the business in a new, broader light.
And in those moments where I received meaningful coaching and delegation intended to develop me, I began to see the tremendous value that Beth brought to the table.
Unfortunately, I didn’t work long for Beth because she quickly advocated for my promotion into a bigger, broader role.
Now, that was many years ago. As I look back on it, Beth displayed traits and behaviors that, by today’s standards, some might associate with neurodiversity. I now realize I worked with many other leaders who might have been neurodiverse — leaders who made it through a hiring process that was never designed with them in mind. Or maybe it was, and Beth and others just slipped through anyway.
The neurotypical traits that have defined leadership are the same squishy, ethereal things that have little to do with leadership effectiveness and everything to do with affinity bias. Polished communication skills, upbeat personality, culture fit, team player. It all adds up to a personality-type filter masquerading as a leadership assessment.
