War Stories: Self-Selecting Ourselves...Out!

Image by Renee Gaudet from Pixabay 

Back when I was in Business School, the undisputed heavyweight champion of the Michigan/Ross Business School universe was a gentleman by the name of C.K. Prahalad. In fact, forget the Ross world, Professor Prahalad was, alongside Michael Porter of Harvard Business School, arguably the best thinker in the world on the subject of Corporate Strategy.

I mean, this was the guy who gave us the term, Core Competence of the corporation, and got us thinking about what it was that a business really did. Everyone owned a copy of his book (even though not everyone read it) and his lectures were fascinating, educational and always sold out.

So when I got to Michigan as a fresh-faced twenty-something kid, I wanted a bit of that aura, I wanted a little of that shine rub off on me. So, I made an appointment to see him - despite his iconic status, he never said no to students who wanted to meet with him. My goal was to offer up my time to do some research for him, and help him with whatever ground-breaking research he was doing at the time. 

When the day came, I eagerly made my way to his office and waited outside. At the designated hour, his door opened, a student walked out and Professor Prahalad gestured for me to come in. I sat down in front of the great man, trying to contain my excitement, and we exchanged pleasantries for a little bit - he came across as very kind and genuinely interested. 

Pleasantries done, he looked at me and said, “So, Omer, how can I help you?”

“Well, I really respect your work and admire what you’ve done. I’d love to be able to help you with your research.”

“Oh, that’s great. Now, tell me, what would you like to work on? What topics would be interesting to you?”

I scratched my head. I hadn’t thought about that. What would I be interested in? What would I like to work on? I turned that over in my head for what felt like minutes but surely was only seconds. 

“Well, I’m not sure.”

He smiled, nodded and said, “Tell you what - why don’t you think through what you’d like to do and then come back and let’s chat about it.” I agreed, shook hands with him, and headed out. 

I never actually figured out what I wanted to work on, so needlessly to say, I never went back to him.

See, the thing is, I didn’t really know what it was that I wanted to do. I was only there for the star power, and because I was only there for the star power, I didn’t have any substance (in that context) to work off of. Had I really been committed to doing substantial research, if I had specific issues that I wanted to explore, if I had a perspective that I wanted to bring to business thinking (at the ripe old age of 23), then undoubtedly, I would have found my way back at his desk with tangible ideas to work on.

But I didn’t and, in retrospect, it honestly didn’t mean that much to me. Not enough to really do anything about it - which is what happens when you go after things for the wrong reasons. (I don’t beat myself up over it, I was a kid. That’s life.)

For his part, Professor Prahalad knew what he was doing. He probably received requests like mine all the time, and he couldn’t possibly parse out work willy nilly to whoever walked through his door. He also knew that if he put the onus back on me, he - and I - would find out if I really wanted this, if I was truly interested. And, what’s more, he did it in a way that left a positive impression.

I remember that story when I think about the things I want to do. How much do I want it? How proactively am I willing to work on it? How intentional and focused will I be taking it on? Can I - will I - bring my A game to this? 

I also remember that story when kids fresh out of college come to me asking for help on specific things that I might be involved with or working on. How much do they want it? Why are they asking for help? What ideas do they proactively bring to the table that shows me they are willing to put some sort of ‘skin in the game’? And I try and encourage them accordingly, to let them figure things out for themselves, to have them self-select in, or out.

Funny thing, experiences like these. Some of those things we didn’t do, end up teaching us so much more than some of the things we actually did.