I’m not the only idiot running a business! This knowledge makes me feel a whole lot better personally, though slightly less confident in the fate of the world. I recently joined a CEO roundtable, which is designed to give CEOs the opportunity to get feedback from “peers,” which, by definition, a CEO doesn’t have in his or her own company.
That’s one of the prices you pay, of course, for aspiring to the top job. It is lonely at the top. (Hey! I see you there doing the world’s-smallest-violin routine!) There are times when it simply doesn’t make sense to share a thought or concern, or ask a question, to one of your employees. And since all CEOs are in the same boat, so goes the theory, we can all benefit from the experience of sitting together and sharing each other’s wisdom.
The CEO roundtable is OK, as far as it goes, but you have to recognize going into it that there are limits to what it can do for you. If you’re looking for the hugely successful CEOs, you’re looking in the wrong place. They’re not there. They’re in their offices counting their millions. What would they be doing sitting around eating doughnuts with the likes of you? I know, top CEOs always say the way they stay successful is by never losing sight of the value of learning from everyone. You bought that?
The CEOs in your group will consist of the following: the owner of a midsize insurance agency who took it over from his dad, the owner of a second-tier construction firm, the owner of an industrial janitorial company and the owner of a local restaurant chain. In your first meeting, you’ll be asked to give your advice on whether the restaurateur should add a full-time hostess, and whether he should paint the restaurant’s name in the picture window in the front of the building. You’ll try think of compelling questions to ask:
“Have you thought about a self-adhesive?”
“Why not a host?”
“Would the paint be lead-free? This is becoming a hot issue.”
“What do the hostesses wear? Do you have uniforms for them? Would you have to provide one? What would that cost?”
“Do the hostesses bring the people bread? People love bread!”
I thought of all those. The restaurateur answered each question respectfully, although I’m sure I saw him mutter under his breath at least once: “Why the hell isn’t Emeril in my group?” That’s what I saw him mutter.
I can certainly offer CEOish-type insights on some things. I know how to pick out an office for myself. I know how to pretend to be on the phone when I don’t want to talk to someone. I know how to look at a balance sheet. (I said look at. I didn’t say read.)
But I really don’t understand the restaurateur’s business—apart from the fact that, if you mess up my order or take too long to bring it to me, I expect free pasta. So I don’t expect him to understand mine either, which is sort of why the whole CEO roundtable concept has to come to terms with its limits. A senior vice president who’s spent years in my industry is going to have better answers to most of the questions I would have than the CEO of a cement company.
But a fellow business owner does understand certain things an employee never would, namely the experience of having all the ultimate decisions be yours and knowing that money gained—and lost—is your money.
The problem, though, is that the chambers of commerce who organize these things always bill them as “professional development” opportunities, or worse, “learning.” Chambers of commerce are always trying to get you to learn. I guess they figure dumb chamber members soon become ex-business owners, and thus ex-chamber members.
OK. I can see that. The problem is, most chamber of commerce staff members have never actually owned a business, so they don’t know what “learning” really consists of for a CEO.
Sitting around sharing your experiences with other CEOs isn’t really learning, per se. It’s more a question of commiserating. I might learn something in the bargain, but I don’t commit to this 90-minute session once a month expecting to learn anything. The conversation goes more like this:
“I need to decide if I’m staffed properly.”
“How many people do you need?”
“I’m not sure.”
“How many people can you afford?”
“It depends what they produce.”
“LET ME JUMP IN HERE! I HAVE THAT PROBLEM TOO!”
“Why are you shouting?”
“I’M JUST REALLY EXCITED!”
“Well I think that’s an interesting conundrum we all face. What do you think, Bob?”
“Well. It’s hard to say. It’s different for everyone.”
Oh, it’s comforting on a certain level to find out you’re not the only one who lays awake nights worrying about money, and that you’re not the only one who ever made a bad hire, gets criticized by employees or who wishes people would stop asking you to play golf.
It’s also fun to find out why people decided to start businesses. That ranges from the inspiring (“I thought my product could change people’s lives for the better”) to the eye-roller (“I got downsized”) to the head-shaker (“Dad left me the business and I had to either run it or sell it to pay the taxes”).
But the best thing about the CEO roundtable is that you find out other people have done all the same dumb things you thought only you had done. Hired the cackling sales person? Took on too much debt? Signed the five-year office equipment lease you wish you could get out from under? You guys did all that too? Wow, that’s great. We’re all idiots. I’m learning so much from you.
Now I’m really in trouble.
