Complain & Propose

Republished from July 2014.

"Jean-Louis wants to see you in his office." My boss Eagle Burns' bald head disappeared from the door to my office. Something about his tone suggested that righteous indignation, which I had been nursing for several days, was not the right attitude to pack for my trip. I started getting scared.

It was Apple 1988.

Jean-Louis Gassée

was head of engineering. He had a reputation as a fire-eater, someone who chewed fools up and spit them out. I had been foolish, it suddenly occurred to me. Do the math.

I was a young, cocky engineer. I was sure I knew better than anyone what needed to be done. When a decision came down that I disagreed with, I shot off an email to JLG that made it clear just how stupid the decision was. A day later, I was summoned.

JLG's office was on the same floor as mine, but I had never approached the sanctum. He was at least four levels up from me in hierarchy. Rumor had it that decorating his office had cost $100K, which was a fortune since everybody else was stuffed in cubes.

When his admin passed me in, though, JLG was avuncular. "I read your message. I'd like you to think about it from my perspective for a moment. What am I going to do if I agree with you?"

No idea. He must have been used to dumb silence.

"I'm going to ask my report for a proposal. He's going to ask his report and so on [yes, completely male. Plus ca change...]. Eventually Eagle is going to ask you what to do. In all those layers, who knows what's going to happen to the question.

"Here's what I want you to do. Rewrite your message and make a proposal for what we should do about it. That way you'll save us a week and you'll get to solve the problem you want to solve."

I did. I don't remember what the issue was or what I wanted to happen or what actually happened. That was lesson number one—it's really not that big a deal, or at least hardly ever.

Lesson number two was to always bundle a proposal with a complaint. I've used that style daily in the intervening quarter century. If I need to vent or I need to think something through, I do it in private. If I'm going increase the scope of a communication, I always say what I would like to happen.

Lesson three was the most important. Those words, "Think about it from my perspective," were a revelation. You mean you have a point of view and it's just as valid as mine and it might be different? I've spent that same quarter century trying to absorb and apply that lesson. Communicating begins by putting myself in the place of my reader, not demanding that they put themself in my place.

Complain and propose.

Bonus lesson for when I was the old guy: don't get caught up in young hotshots' emotions. Assume good intentions and lack of skills. Thanks, JLG.