The difference between leadership storytelling, and rhetorical pink slime

The handsome young CEO takes the stage at an employee town hall meeting to introduce the company's new mission.

He begins by telling the employees, "So I've been thinking about my favorite memories as a kid."

Because isn't that how everyone goes about announcing a corporate mission statement? By thinking about their childhood memories? As a kid, "I would run up this dirt trail to the top of the Berkeley hills. And when I would get there, I would sit down, and I would stare out at San Francisco. And just looking at the city, it made me feel like anything was possible."

Now I don't know about you, but when I was a kid and gazed out across vast cityscapes, or even my messy bedroom floor, I didn't think, "Anything is possible." I wondered what the fuck I was supposed to do with all that. But he's a CEO and I'm just a dumb ole writer, so we'll give his inner child the benefit of the doubt.

"So this morning, I put on my running shoes, and ran up to the top of the same dirt trail, and I got there and ... there was a log—the same log that I sat on as a kid."

Amazing! He ran up the trail this very morning and found the old childhood log and told his speechwriter in time to get the perfect anecdote loaded into the teleprompter!

"And it reminded me. It reminded me how I used to dream so much about what my life could look like, and the impact that I could hopefully have on the world."

Spoiler alert: The little shaver would one day decide he could change the world by running a real estate company. You didn't see that coming, did you?

Well, that's because you don't know the handsome CEO. You see, he came to become the CEO of the real estate company—and then he came to embody that real estate company's new mission!—as a result of something even more profound that happened to him as a child!

"Before I share with you Compass's newly articulated mission, I want to share with you something deeply personal from my own story. I have felt out of place my entire life. I'm the son of an Israeli immigrant mother, and an African American father from Louisiana who left me and my mom when I was just a baby. Through his actions, my dad told me that I don't belong. When my mom called my grandparents to say that I was born, they—knowing that she dated interracially—asked only one question: 'What is he?' They didn't ask, 'Is he happy?' They didn't ask, 'Is he healthy?' 'What is he?' My mom said, 'He is Jewish and black.' They immediately hung up the phone and disowned us both. To this day and to their death, I never met them, I never spoke to them. They made it clear that I don't belong."

Thanks to his mother who told him to dream big, a good college education and a number of instructive early jobs, the young man found his own personal mission in life. "To help people at pivotal and transformational moments in their lives."

Now that he's the CEO of the real estate company, he wants everyone to have a personal mission. "I want everyone—every agent, ever employee, every client we touch—to benefit from the same sense of purpose that I experienced."

Okay, but what does this have to do with the deeply personal story about being abandoned by his father and disowned by his grandparents? Well, check out the real estate company's new mission! "Our mission is to help everyone find their place in the world."

Get it? His father and his grandparents made him feel like he didn't belong, but now he runs a real estate company that makes people feel they belong! "At Compass, we know how transformational it is to open up a door and feel like you're finally home. To look out of a window and see a neighborhood that makes you feel like you belong."

There's that word again! It's all about belonging! (Reminds me of the old Buddy's Carpet commercials I saw growing up. "I don't care about makin' money," said Buddy. "I just love to sell carpet!")

Then the CEO gets solemn. "But too many people need more help finding their place. Every year, 40 million people in the United States alone move. ... Every year, 40 million people are searching for their place. ... At Compass, we're helping everyone find their place in the world. It's incredibly meaningful to me personally that I have finally found my place here, with all of you."

And the crowd went wild. They really did. A standing O. And the video of the employee town hall, posted onto the company's YouTube channel, has garnered 122,500 views.

And yet, we know the speech is utter bunk. This guy’s irresponsible father and racist grandparents had not one thing to do with the new mission this company dreamed up in focus groups. 

That "deeply personal" story he told about his childhood was nothing more than what he used to fill in the blank that says [insert seemingly searing personal anecdote here to establish "authenticity"].  

Had the CEO actually been telling employees something private or something truly insightful about their business, the firm might not have posted the speech externally.

But no, the thing was just a big marketing smoke ring, blown out of this CEO's rather athletic asshole. Might as well let everybody see it.

But really, no harm done, right?

Well, not unless any employee or customer actually believed the guy about his personal mission and his deep feelings and his core passion about helping people at transformational points in their lives, and tries—perhaps in more difficult economic times—to hold him to it.

And not unless we mind that when a speaker says she's going to tell a "deeply personal story," audiences to start thinking, "window dressing."

What really bugs me about this little taste of rhetorical pink slime is the distinct possibility that a clever speechwriter put the CEO up to telling this story on account of every speech needs a story. And what haunts me is that the speechwriter might have gotten this misguided idea at from a professional development event not sanctioned by the Professional Speechwriters Association.

You see, as the executive director of the PSA, I have a deep passion for authentic communication. And to make you understand why, we have to go back to one day when I was a little boy ...

Comments

[Russell Sparkman]

Yes, but ... David ... who are you to judge whether or not something as deeply impactful as being abandoned as a child has had an authentic impact on this young CEO's sense of purpose and how he applies that to his leadership role? If, indeed, the company did arrive at their newly articulated mission through a focus group, as you speculate, are you certain that this CEO's backstory didn't play a role in developing what was presented in the focus group research? And that ultimately, the focus group research confirmed that this backstory helped create a strong brand message? Are you confident, in your analysis, that that room of 2000 employees isn't one of the priority audiences for this messaging, especially given that a sense of purpose is a major contributing factor behind the decisions of where top talent decides to work, today? Contrary to your view, I think that tapping into helping people find where they belong as a purpose for a real estate company is far from rhetorical pink slime. I think that the CEO's own backstory of feeling he didn't belong has helped his organization arrive at what Lisa Earle Mcleod refers to in her book of the same name "as having a noble sales purpose." When moving, finding where you belong is not an insignificant life decision, no matter what stage of life you're in. I'm grateful everyday that both friends, and a real estate agent, 16 years ago, helped me discover that where I live today is, after all, where I belong. Through my own personal backstory, though not as dramatic as the CEO's, I find Compass' purpose to be relatable. And if I were looking to move anytime soon, I very well might look them up because they are expressing a value that I relate to ... (and btw, I would agree with you on the little boy running up the hill bit as being unnecessary). Cheers!

[David Murray]

Well, Russell, I'm glad you asked this. Here's the thing. He doesn't DEMONSTRATE the connection with his argument, which looks for all the world—to anyone beside a desperate-to-believe employee of the company and a guy pre-disposed to love some purpose-driven marketing—to be reverse-engineered to match his life story.

I have a very strong feeling that when this guy is running a car-wash chain, he'll get up there and talk about how his grandparents made him feel "dirty" as a child ... and then when he goes on to run an insurance company, he'll say his bounder dad made him feel insecure ....

In fact, those claims would actually be more authentic sounding to me than his bit about not belonging leading him to run a real estate company.

Look, all organizations exist to fill human needs. So all organizations relate to human needs. And all humans who run them can probably find some way to connect their humanity with what they're doing for a living.

And no doubt they should try to do so. But they shouldn't try too hard. They shouldn't have to. Howard Schultz doesn't have to, when he tells the story of how seeing his father being disabled without benefits in the 1960s drove him to make Starbucks the only company that paid benefits even to part-time employees. The story simply rings true.

If you found this yarn believable, fair enough. I thought it was a really transparent load of malarky. And I don't really care what it does or doesn't do to Compass' brand.

But I DO care to defend the credibility of the "deeply personal story" against its use for, as you say, a priority of audience for corporate messaging.

[David Murray]

One last point, Russell—before the expected response from you. You say, "Contrary to your view, I think that tapping into helping people find where they belong as a purpose for a real estate company is far from rhetorical pink slime."

I think it's possible to tap into human purpose to get people involved in an enterprise for more than a paycheck WITHOUT CONNECTING THE WHOLE THING to the CEO's own childhood!

Southwest Airlines made people "free to move about the country" without ginning up some yarn about how Herb Kelleher never had a bicycle growing up. And it even built a culture partly around Kelleher's values and personality without going any farther back than the story about Kelleher sketching out the first routes on an bev nap.

There are credible stories, and there is bullshit. They glue people together, for the long haul. I don't think this Compass story stands up to scrutiny or will be retold even a few years from now.

[Russell Sparkman]

Well, David, I think the difference between the way that you're viewing this, and the way I'm viewing this, is that you've made a rush to judgement because you think this smells like bullshit, while I'm willing to give the guy (and his company) the benefit of the doubt. There actions will ultimately speak louder than there words, and they'll either have failed the bullshit test, or they will have lived up to and manifested their purpose in ways that are credible. And, btw, if I'm more susceptible to this than you because I'm "pre-disposed to love some purpose-driven marketing," so be it. As you know because of conversations outside of this thread, I'm not a hopeless idealist in this regard, but I do believe business has a role and an opportunity to be a force for good. I'm not alone in this regard, and being part of the community that is thinking this way gives me reason for hope. One thing is for sure ... at least I don't have to lie awake at night worrying that cynics like you aren't keeping an eye on things. ;)

[David Murray]

Rush to judgment? I watched this video all the way through TWICE! ;)

Peace out, you hope-smoking, pre-disposable content marketing lover man.

[Amy Gooen]

It's a sad fact that authenticity is dead in this age of everyone living their lives on screen in the hopes of provoking the reaction of others. If I thought this guy's "purpose" had one ounce of authenticity, maybe I'd try to let it slide. But it is, in fact, rhetorical pink slime. He is using what he says are childhood hurts to hawk his business. That makes me want to hurl. It diminishes the experience of all of those who are TRULY (and quietly, devotedly, and authentically) living their purpose. Sometimes, people just run a business, and that's ok, especially if they run it honestly and efficiently.

[Brian A.]

Let's be honest here: The guy and his company are hawking real estate. I've known a lot of real estate agents over the years and it's safe to say the primary reason they got into selling real estate is they can make a ton of money. The commissions are a helluva lot better than those for selling cars. They didn't go into real estate because they wanted to make people feel like they belong in the world. Seriously, do people really buy this kind of BS? Yes, I suppose there's some satisfaction in finding someone the right home. Not so much when they find out a month later it's a home filled with asbestos, or that the foundation is crumbling. There's nothing wrong with having a job because it can make you a lot of money and improve your lifestyle. But spare me the phony "purpose-driven" boilerplate.