The Right And Wrong Ways to Celebrate Successes
August 20, 2008
An excerpt from Motivation by Paul Levesque (Entrepreneur Press)
By Paul Levesque
What makes TV award shows so popular? Some might argue it's the fascination people have with celebrities—but many of these award shows are preceded by "red-carpet" interview shows in which viewers get to see and hear even more of these same celebrities. Why then are the TV ratings for the interview programs always lower than for the awards ceremony itself?
A related question: during television coverage of the Olympic Games, time is always taken to include shots of the gold-medal winners standing on the platform as their national anthem plays in the background. No special athletic ability is required to stand motionless listening to music—so why bother including such scenes? It's the winners' facial expressions, the tears welling in their eyes, that often make these scenes the most memorable part of the experience for viewers at home (who sometimes feel a little lump forming in their own throats as well).
Applause, recognition, emotion. These are key elements of every award ceremony, every wedding anniversary party, every post-game victory celebration, every retirement party—every situation humans can dream up to acknowledge the achievements of other humans in some way. It isn't only those on the receiving end of applause that feel good. Television viewers sitting in extremely modest homes, living extremely modest lives, nevertheless feel a sense of personal satisfaction when good work done by a wealthy celebrity or famous athlete is acknowledged in a big splashy ceremony that moves the recipient to tears.
It's a form of satisfaction many workers in many organizations seldom get to experience on the job. Even when good work is acknowledged, it's often handled more like a raffle than a collective tribute to honor achievement—recipients "win" prizes, while others look on. Still a nice thing for the individual recipients, of course, but far less moving and memorable for everyone else than it could be.
The mistake, New York-based retail consultant Cheryl Beal believes, lies in using rewards, rather than recognition, as the prime motivator. "I find that [incentives] can be very much over-used," she says. "In fact, when I was at Bergdorf's years ago, we had vendors develop incentives all the time, and so Mont Blanc would come and [say], 'Okay, if you sell three Meisterstück [pens] then you get a Meisterstück.' And then the linens person would come and [say], 'If you sell three sheet sets then you get something.' And I was standing on the floor speaking to the floor manager one day when an employee came up and said to their manager, 'I just sold a whatever—do I get something for that?' And I just—" Cheryl pauses, as if to catch herself before a profanity passes her lips. "And I said, 'Yes, actually, I think it's called "commission."' I was really fried about it." Incentives of this kind, she believes, work against cultural alignment, by reinforcing self-interest. "[The associates] are not doing it because it's the right thing for the customer, they're doing because ‘I’m going to get a prize.'"
"Recognition carries a lot more weight than rewards," agrees Delaware North Companies' Stewart Collins. "There's a gentleman that I worked with in Yosemite [National Park]. We were at the little Badger Pass ski area, great little ski area, and Sean was the manager who, in the morning, before the rental shop opened, had a team huddle with his associates. He thanked all of them first thing in the morning, for coming in to work. Every day! Now it's ten degrees outside, they've ridden on the bus for an hour and a half to get there…and he takes that time to thank them for coming to work. And that was very powerful. And you know, he had less absenteeism, he had less turnover, he had people doing a pretty [unpleasant] job, fitting boots, smelling people's feet, not great. People wanted to work with him, because of that recognition that took place. I think that that's much more powerful than the rewards."
I have often had occasion to be on a long late-night flight, trying to snooze. I hate it when I discover the in-flight movie is to be a comedy. It means there won't be much snoozing in store for this sleepy traveler. Every few moments the quiet of the darkened cabin is shattered by loud cackles of laughter emanating from surrounding seats. Are these cacklers traveling together, I find myself wondering. Do they even know each other? More to the point—would they be cackling this loudly if they were at home, watching this same movie all by themselves? On the screen, the wedding cake winds up covering the face of the lead character. Apparently no one on my flight has ever seen a cake hit a character in the face in any movie or TV show prior to this flight. Too bad for passengers trying to sleep—this cake-in-the-face is so hilarious, it demands loud cackles.
What these cackling strangers prove (as do those strangers at sports events who collectively perform "the wave," for example) is that people sharing an experience as a single entity—as an audience—feel connected in a particular way. Even total strangers at a cocktail party who through casual conversation discover they were both in the audience at the same concert in the past, or at some other earlier public event, immediately feel more connected. The morning after one of the big TV award shows, people all over the country are discussing it at the water cooler. It's an experience they shared. It's something that connects them.
Organizations seeking to become more aligned are in effect seeking to get everyone feeling more connected. Orchestrating opportunities for everyone in the organization to be together as part of a single large audience sharing applause, recognition and emotion is a powerful way to forge deep connections. The larger the audience, the more motivational it becomes for everyone involved. It creates one of those magical you-had-to-be-there moments that those who were there will never forget.
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