Think of a clenched fist. What comes to mind? For most people a fist evokes strength, aggression, and even a touch of violence. A raised fist screams defiance and declares revolutionary solidarity. A fist shaken in the face? It’s a prelude to a fight. In our culture, fists are undeniably masculine. Men punch, and women slap. Or so we imagine.
Therefore, it’s no surprise that bosses—as we conceive them—are more comparable to fists than open hands. Bosses want to exude an aura of toughness, an uncompromising stance. The stereotypical hardboiled, cigar-chomping autocrat. The iron man: red hot on the outside but cool within. Like a boss, right?
But, what if those closed-fisted bosses, the no-nonsense, gruff-voiced bloviators, are—at their core—not cast iron but something much more malleable, like gummy bears? What if true leadership has nothing to do with the clenched fist at all? That, in fact, it takes more core strength to offer an open hand than to ball one up? What if the vulnerability of an outstretched hand requires more integrity, courage, and resolve than the imperious menace of a shaking fist?
The Iron Fist of Ella
Meet Ella, a CEO with vast ambitions and an ego to match. In her time, she was a take-no-prisoners type who projected decisiveness and stability—a hard-charging boss in the traditional mode. Her people knew they could count on her to stake a position no matter the situation, and—right or wrong—she would not budge. Her ability to deflect blame was something out of a superhero movie. She never flinched. She never allowed herself to be vulnerable or even accessible. Nothing could ever touch her, or so she thought.
To her employees, Ella’s commanding persona was as intimidating as it was enthralling. No one dared question her let alone confront her. Once when a critical project started going sideways, her underlings worked secretly and tirelessly around the clock to get it back on track rather than breathe a word to Ella that something was amiss. That’s teamwork, right? Whatever you want to say about Ella, she certainly drove her subordinates to get the job done no matter the odds. Granted, she motivated them through fear, but motivate she did. Loyalty to Ella was an absolute, or else! No wonder the Board of Directors deferred to Ella on every decision.
Eventually, though, Ella’s employees grew weary of the constant pushing, the impossible expectations, and the unrelenting grind.
At first it was just a few trickling out, but the flow quickened. Soon the place was hemorrhaging workers at a pace that outstripped the company’s ability to hire replacements. Some took lower-paying gigs, even uprooting their families just to escape the iron fist of Ella. Even some newer recruits fled, and the quality of their replacements left much to be desired. Simply put, anyone with any ability quit, leaving only the incompetent as dead weight on the payroll.
As for Ella, she was not perplexed or even troubled by the stampede since her underlings were clearly lazy and ungrateful—good riddance. Meanwhile, as staffing levels dwindled and replacement workers dawdled, Ella simply increased her own considerable workload to keep things going. She was that clenched fist, punching her way through every obstacle, every setback, every crisis. She could punch her way through anything, she told herself.
Sergio and the Open Palm
Now consider the opposite approach. Sergio had some pretty wild ideas about how to be an executive. As a young manager, he had chafed at the traditional command-and-control management style practiced by his bosses—closed fists all. Sergio bucked their expectations, instead embracing openness and even vulnerability as he connected with his team and unlocked their potential. His iconoclastic leadership was anathema to his bosses, who subsequently made life hard for him.
But his results were impossible to deny. Eventually—bolstered by that success—he moved on to a new company to serve as CEO. This one was in trouble, and Sergio’s charge was to turn it around.
Finally he was free to implement his ideas fully. He struggled at first, though, to establish his preferred culture of openness and trust since it was so opposite to the closed and broken culture he had inherited at his new company. Many of his people resisted the changes, but Sergio persisted. To make matters worse, the employees who remained had largely done so due to the fact they had neither the drive nor the talent to find work elsewhere—the last under-performing remnants of a dysfunctional regime. Sergio had a lot to rebuild and a lot of trust to gain as he implemented his vision of a culture of openness.
But as Sergio’s ideas settled in and his approach took hold, something remarkable happened. By treating his people—inadequate though they seemed—with respect and trust, he unlocked their hidden and suppressed talents and intrinsic motivations. These folks weren’t substandard at all. They had just grown used to being underestimated and dismissed.
Sergio preached and practiced the principles of radical candor and radical transparency, and they caught on.
His company became a place where problems were addressed directly and solved collaboratively—nothing was hidden. He made it clear that even his missteps as CEO were to be called out. Team members who spoke truth to power were rewarded with praise, bonuses, and even promotions. Sergio led with his palm open and outstretched, like a servant.
Against all odds, Sergio reversed the company’s course. As his reputation for values-based leadership and open communication spread, recruitment became easier. He even got to hire back some of the people who had defected from his predecessor—highly-skilled and experienced professionals all. One day a few shared with him that they were surprised the company had survived seeing how long it took the Board of Directors to wise up to Iron Ella’s incompetence.
Paper Covers Rock
Our society insists on perpetuating the image of a great manager as an uncompromising tough guy, ruling through sheer force of presence and will, fear and intimidation. This clenched-fisted manager is truly like a boss—shut down, limited, defensive, isolated, and useful only for punching. The fist is no good for leading. Need convincing? When was the last time you saw someone point the way using their fist. The fist is best for threatening and knocking down, not showing and inspiring.
In contrast, the open-handed manager is a leader. The open hand symbolizes welcomeness and acceptance. The open hand can guide, lift burdens, deliver a supportive pat on the back, or command a halt. Yes, the hand may be vulnerable, but it is a source of connection, growth, and progress. A clenched fist can only strike out in anger, can only tear things down. And tearing down is easy.
In the debate over tough-guy bossing versus compassionate leadership, I'll take the open hand every time. Bosses are fists, using threats and demands to maintain order; leaders are open hands, inspiring through trust and empowerment. Bosses are limited, closed-off, and unbending; leaders are unbounded, welcoming, and flexible. Bosses destroy while leaders build.
There's more strength and resolve in an outreached hand than in a clenched fist. One offers stagnation and fear. The other, possibility and growth. When forging your leadership style, remember: true strength flows from openness, not stubbornness. The great leaders is an open palm.
Are you more like a closed fist or an open hand? Why have you chosen to be more like one than the other?
Great leaders need to abandon closed-fist models and be more like the open hand, and I can help.
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