On Deciding Who Is Better

 

One of the coolest aspects of belonging to an organization like the United States Chess Federation (USCF, now US Chess) is that you know your precise value to that organization. It’s your score – if you have a score of 2000, you are an Expert; over 2200 gets you National Master status, and over 2400 makes you a Senior Master.  Points are attained by playing in sanctioned tournaments or matches, and are adjusted for the players’ relative strength. Chess, by its nature, is unforgiving of poor play – if you lose a chess game, it is fairly difficult to blame poor officiating, the weather, aggravated injury, the venue, and so forth. In essence, no amount of arguing, manipulating, charming, or spinning will influence your score, and along with it your standing in the US Chess organization. Its beauty is in its nearly perfect basis in the objective measurement of merit relative to the organization.

At the other end of the spectrum, I imagine, would be participating as a member of the faculty of a liberal arts college within a state-run university. I once took a sophomore-level literature survey course (“survey” – right. It ran the gamut from George Elliot to the Bronte sisters) from a woman professor who was so predjudiced against male students that none could ever attain above a C in her classes, whereas no female could be graded below a B. There was simply no way that objective evidence of the relative scholastic merit of her students could be introduced into a review or assessment of her grading tendencies. As it turns out, just prior to the drop deadline a couple of friends (one male, one female) gave me the inside baseball on this professor, and I escaped her course. But she did inadvertently teach me an extremely valuable lesson: the more subjective the basis for evaluating and assigning merit, the more slanted and vicious that method becomes.

Which brings us to Project Management. Some of the best managers I have ever encountered have been highly educated and certified, and some of the worst have been (in my opinion) under-educated, and without certifications. Unfortunately, the exact opposite is also true: a couple of the best PMs I have ever met had neither a degree in business nor management, with zero certifications, and at least two of the worst have had a BBA or better and one of the professional certifications associated with project management. And when I say “the worst,” I don’t mean these managers merely drove virtually any piece of scope for which they were responsible into the proverbial ditch. These would, despite their wretched histories, insist on playing roles of influence in the ways in which the other PMs within their organizations managed their work, inflicting managerial damage far beyond their nominal reach. How did these poor managers get into positions of influence far beyond what would be indicated by their actual merit? The same way that the predjudiced professor did: by arguing, manipulating, charming, or spinning their way past any objective basis for evaluating their true value to their respective organizations. 

However, while certs and scholastic achievement are susceptible to significant variance in predicting who is or is not a genuinely talented PM, it has been my experience that the best share a characteristic that is consistently lacking in their poorly-performing counterparts. That characteristic is humility.

By “humility” I do not mean a tendency towards low self-esteem; quite the contrary, genuine humility is usually marked by a quiet confidence, that the winners have a clear-eyed grasp of their authentic value to their organizations, and therefore have no need to elbow-aside competitors, insult or put down potential rivals, unctiously flatter superiors, indulge misandry, or engage in any of the other manipulatory behaviors that their arrogant associates must pursue, lest anyone see past the fascade and realize the arrogant ones are not as valuable as they purport to be. Just something to keep in mind: when you encounter people within your project team engaged in arguing, manipulating, charming, or spinning, they’re probably not advancing a merit-based agenda.

And, while I can prove that Bobby Fischer was a better chess player than George Elliot (pen name of Mary Ann Evans), not even my old English Lit professor can prove that Elliot was a better writer than Fischer (being, as she was, hopelessly maudlin).