Character and Our Imaginary Board of Directors

I recall reading a newspaper article over ten years ago that defined and discussed personal image, personal reputation, and personal character. Image was defined as what people think of us when they know little or nothing about us. Reputation, according to the article, is what people who know us think about us. Image is superficial, reputation is substantive. Character, the last of the trio, was defined as what each of us is when no one else is looking. Character is what we really are—our true self. Abraham Lincoln, our 16th President, contrasted reputation and character this way: “Character is like a tree and reputation like a shadow. The shadow is what we think of it; the tree is the real thing.”

John Luther, lawyer and author, offered this thought on character and how it is built: “Good character is more to be praised than outstanding talent. Most talents are, to some extent, a gift. Good character, by contrast, is not given to us. We have to build it piece by piece—by thought, choice, courage, and determination.”

Assume, for a moment, that you were restarting your adult life and giving thought to where you will put your emphasis—that is, on image, reputation, or character. I suspect that many of us might be tempted to go with personal image. Image seems the easiest to achieve. After all, we can create the desired image by wearing the right clothes, associating with the right people, living in the right neighborhood, and driving the right car.

Reputation, on the other hand, would be more difficult to achieve. After all, the ultimate judges, as defined above, are those people who really know us. At times, they can be quite harsh, albeit accurate. Hard-earned reputations can be quickly lost, as noted by investor Warren Buffet: “It takes twenty years to build a reputation, and five minutes to ruin it. If you think about that, you’ll do things differently.”

What about character? Creating the character we desire would be the most challenging because the judge, for each of us, would be us. That judge would be very knowledgeable, and in the best position to determine if we achieve the character we desire. Looking inside, each of us would be able, to use Lincoln’s words, to see “the real thing.”

So how can we focus on and mold our character—the desired true us? Let me share a story that sheds some light on how we might think about this challenge. On behalf of my then engineering firm employer, I was calling—a “cold call”—on the manager of a small electric utility in northern Wisconsin. My assignment was to introduce him to our engineering firm and its capabilities.

He cordially greeted me, and as I was ushered into his office, the unusual size and furnishing of his office immediately drew my attention. His desk sat at one end of the long, narrow room and faced the other end. Abutting his desk was a long conference table with chairs on three sides. His desk, in effect, occupied the fourth side of the large table.

He invited me to sit in a chair next to his desk and we began to chat. As a young engineer, very inexperienced in the marketing role, I was looking for something—anything!—to talk about. So I asked the manager about the purpose of the large table. He explained that, while this was his office, it was also the electric utility’s board room. The board met in this room around the table. He, as their chief executive and manager, occupied his desk at one end of the conference table, presumably opposite the board chairperson. The manager was available, with the support of his desk and his files, to report on the work of the utility and to respond to questions. In summary, this was an efficient use of space especially given the many “luxurious” board rooms that I have seen some of which are only infrequently used.

Then my host volunteered a comment that stuck with me, and this is the point of my story. He said that, although the vast amount of time he was in his office he was there alone or with one or a few individuals, he tried to imagine that the board members were sitting around the conference table all the time. They “watched and listened” as he met with or talked by telephone with employees, customers, consultants, vendors, and others. Pretending that the board was present caused him to be extra careful regarding what he said, decided, and did.

Perhaps all of us, as a check on our behavior and an ultimate molder of our character, should follow the utility manager’s lead. Imagine, when we are alone or with one or a few individuals in our office or work space, that we are operating in the presence of our boss, our organization’s chief executive and/or board, or—how about this—our parents?