"If these suggestions make sense in the sports world, why aren’t they more broadly applied in t

You might think that being top dog in a multi-billion dollar corporation

is the toughest job in management today.

Not in my opinion.

The most demanding jobs are with professional sports teams —

being a general manager or head coach, especially.

Such tenures are tenuous.

It’s not good enough to have a winning record, to make the playoffs four years out of five,

to fill the stands for every game, or to run the most valuable franchise in the league.

The only thing that matters is winning — winning the Stanley Cup, baseball’s World Series,

the Super Bowl or the NBA championship.

This is to be done in a short time, often five years or less.

Fail and it’s back to being unemployed (although probably still drawing a salary). Quite reasonably, there are standard precepts to apply in such demanding jobs—

for players, and for managers.

Professional players know the drill: play hard until the whistle blows;

be disciplined (don’t take selfish penalties); do your job (not anybody else’s).

In team sports you are one member of the team, don’t let the team down.

Managers and coaches have more subtle challenges, and a healthy checklist of reminders. First, make the best of the team you’ve been given;

don’t try to mold them into the team you wish you’d been given.

Second, make improvements, replacing obvious weaknesses,

but don’t mess with good locker room chemistry.

Third, put more effort into further developing the skills your players have than in trying to correct their deficiencies. And fourth, encourage leadership within the team, but be fair-minded and don’t play favourites.

If these suggestions make sense in the sports world,

why aren’t they more broadly applied in the everyday working world?

Perhaps they seem somewhat aggressive, or harsh. Perhaps it’s simply because our default position of “good enough” is good enough. Or that corporate goals are usually ill-defined or ignored.

Or that there’s a presumption of entitlement that settles in on those astride the corporate ladder.

Many new managers start out with the best of intentions: “My goal is to make my staff the best hey can be.” Then, almost unconsciously, this morphs into:

“What can I do to make myself look good to my superiors, to make me even more promotable?” Disintegration is sure to follow.

Just as I believe there should be “sunset clauses” written into all commercial contracts (review and revise after, say, every five years), I think it’s important to have “understandings” between senior employees and employers. An agreement on objectives, near and medium term, is a good place to start, followed by a mutually acceptable time frame. Without this, the slippage into“entitlement” begins and the incumbent is on auto-pilot, year after year. Ben Bradlee, the sainted managing editor of the Washington Post, held that job for 35 years — at least 25 years too long, and it showed.

How long should someone serve as a CEO? Ten to 12 years, I think.

A middle manager? Five to eight years, unless he or she is given a better assignment. Entry level and junior employees, unless promoted,

should be hankering to move on after three to five year years.

If this seems to be excessive pressure (best if applied from within than without),

I can only say that in my experience such mobility is good for all involved —

healthy for companies, for a country’s economy and for individuals.

Sclerosis is not healthy. Avoid it.