When association leadership loses its way

leadership: a caricature model of a greedy businessman with a large grinIs it OK for a U.S. 501(c)(3) non-profit association to:

  • Make large profits;
  • Pay its four top executives well over $1M per year; and yet
  • Do little for its members?

In an astonishing article, Professor Dorothy Vera Margaret Bishop, FRS FBA FMedSci, who is Professor of Developmental Neuropsychology and Wellcome Trust Principal Research Fellow in the Department of Experimental Psychology at the University of Oxford shares an example of an association that’s guilty of all of the above.

“The Society for Neuroscience (SfN) makes humongous amounts of money from its journal and meetings, but spends very little on helping its members, while treating overseas researchers with indifference bordering on disdain.”
—Dorothy Vera Margaret Bishop, Has the Society for Neuroscience lost its way?

Why the SfN lost its way

Bishop’s article gives the financial details, also available from the association’s 2016 (latest) IRS Form 990. To summarize, the Society for Neuroscience:

  1. Makes millions of dollars in profit from its journal submission fees. But claims these fees only cover “a portion of the costs associated with peer review.”
  2. Makes millions of dollars profit from its annual meeting.
  3. Despite its stated claim of wanting to support neuroscience globally, uses little of its enormous reserves (more than $100M at the end of 2016) to “offer grants for scientists in resource-poor countries to buy equipment, pay for research assistants or attend meetings. Quite small sums could be transformational in such a context. As far as I can see, SfN currently offers a few awards, but some of these are paid for by external donations, and, in relation to their huge reserves, the sums are paltry.”

This is a classic example of a non-profit whose leadership lost its way. It created an association whose commitment to membership is secondary to leadership’s focus on pursuing profit (and, presumably their own consequently generous salaries). As Bishop says:

“…instead of being an organisation that exists to promote neuroscience and help their members, the members are rather regarded as nothing but a source of income, which is then stashed away in investments.”

The Plan and The Reality

Reading the Society’s lofty Mission and Strategic Plan, I’m struck by how little it reflects the Society’s actual operational decisions that Bishop and I describe. In 2016 alone, the association stashed away $6M out of $33M of revenues. Yet the 8,000-word document spends far more time describing how diversity and equity issues will be handled (worthy goals for sure) and the importance of seeking funding from external sources, than providing any kind of cold hard cash support to its less well-off members.

Founded in 1969, the Society for Neuroscience began — as every association does — as a group of people wanting to further a particular profession, the interests of those engaged in the profession, and the public interest. Half a century later the Society’s leadership has apparently forgotten its founders’ reasons for existence. Instead, it concentrates on self-perpetuation and expansion over fully supporting the community of practice.

Remembering that an association is, at its core, a set of agreements in people’s minds about supporting a community that is important to them is key to keeping the association relevant to the community it serves. Sadly, the Society for Neuroscience leadership has lost its way.

I wish the Society for Neuroscience was the only association whose leadership has forgotten that the core purpose of an association is to serve its members. Unfortunately, in my experience, such associations are common these days. Do you have other examples to share? Feel free to do so in the comments below.

Aim to serve rather than please

Aim to serve: a photograph of Serena Williams about to serve a tennis ball. Photo attribution: Flickr user tuttotuttoAlthough I’m simultaneously overwhelmed and underwhelmed by the thousands of books and videos about “leadership” pumped out every year, a recent quote struck a chord:

“You’ll do more good if you aim to serve more than you aim to please.”
S. Chris Edmonds

For context, watch this two-minute video:

While Chris focuses on the context of team leadership, I think that aiming to serve rather than please is also a useful rubric to keep in mind as a consultant. So here are three reasons why you should aim to serve, not please:

  • It’s impossible to please everyone! Try to please everyone, and you’ll likely please no one.
  • To aim to serve a client, you need to define what “serve” means. That’s important because if you don’t know how to serve your client you’re not going to be a good consultant. In the video, Chris talks about defining service for a team; the same considerations apply to consulting.
  • Finally, aiming to serve one’s clients, even at the expense of failing to please them, allows you to feel good about yourself at the end of the day. On a few occasions, I have respectfully declined to provide a requested service that would have pleased a client, because I believed it would not serve them well. Doing this sometimes meant giving up paid work, with all the ensuing consequences. Nevertheless, I feel I made the right decision, both for me and my clients. Because, ultimately, serving clients is more important than pleasing them.

Have you ever felt the temptation to please your clients rather than serve them?

Have you ever walked away from a client rather than agreeing to please but not serve them?

Share your stories in the comments below!

Photo attribution: Flickr user tuttotutto

Listening to the UPS guy

A photograph of a UPS truck going down my driveway, driven by the UPS guyAfter dinner last night I heard a familiar sound — the growl of the UPS box truck driving up our 600′ rural driveway. I knew it was our regular UPS guy, the guy who’s been delivering for years, because if he sees I’m in my home office he’ll stop and do a tight three-point turn outside the entrance, rather than driving past to reverse by the garage.

I heard the van door slide back and went to the door to meet the guy I’ll call Roger. Roger is tall and lanky, has a sweet smile and disposition, and is open to talk if the time is right. Over the years he’s met me hundreds of times in that doorway. Mostly, he smiles and hands over the delivery, I thank him and wish him a good night, and he jumps into his truck, finishes reversing, and drives away. Once in a while, when the roads are bad, we talk about his day: how he’s handled the challenges of delivering along my rural town’s sixty miles of dirt roads plus the surrounding area.

For some reason I hadn’t seen Roger for a few weeks; the other drivers had been making deliveries. So I said, “Hey, you’re back!” as he strolled towards me, package in hand.

“Well, I’ve been off a lot; my mother just passed away,” he replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. I stood and looked at him.

“Well,” he said…

…and he started to tell his story

Roger talked about his mom. He stood facing sideways from me, with an occasional glance in my direction prompted by my occasional responses to what he was saying. Once in a while, he’d swivel to face me, sharing something that was especially important. Then he went back to telling me about his frequent journeys down south to see her since she’d fallen and broke multiple bones in June, how his family had done their best to cope, and her eventual decline and death.

He told me about dealing with “picking up the pieces” now she was gone. The last time he saw her in the hospital, when she was “all scrunched up” and seemed out of it until he bent down and hugged her and told her “I love you Mom” and she opened one eye and said “I love you too” “as clear as anything” and then closed her eye and “was out of it again”. He told me much more than I’ll share here.

Roger talked for over ten minutes, by far the longest conversation we’ve ever had. Now and again he edged away during our time together. But he couldn’t quite get himself to stop what he wanted or needed to say.

And that was fine with me. I was in no hurry, and he wanted to talk.

At the end, I wished him well and he turned, got into his van, and motored off down my driveway.

It felt good to listen to the UPS guy.

How to live your life

live your life: photograph of a sculpture of the bust of a woman, placed on a bench in a garden. Photo attribution: Flickr user x1klimaHow to live your life? It isn’t easy to make changes in your life, but these two important truths from Stephen Jenkinson may help:

“…it’s the awareness of death — and not happiness or positivity or stoicism — that allows us to live fully in the time that we have.”
—Stephen Jenkinson in the 2008 documentary Griefwalker

and

“…live your life as someone who has an enduring obligation to that which has kept you alive.”
—Stephen Jenkinson, in an interview in The Sun, August 2015

I am working to establish a gratitude practice, which I hope will help me live more fully.

Photo attribution: Flickr user x1klima