The Chemistry That Changes
Case Illustration
All names and identifying details in these case illustrations are fictional. They are composite sketches drawn from clinical and coaching experience, not accounts of real individuals.
On what happens to chemistry when power shifts.
Lorenzo had worked for his mid-sized retail company for 17 years, and had been CFO for eight of them, when he landed the top job. In the pandemic years he saw two CEOs depart with little credit. After his long tenure, Lorenzo was viewed as a bit staid, pleasant in a safe but boring way. Lorenzo was aware of this image, which he didn’t mind because he knew he was extremely competent. When he was offered the vacant CEO position, he leapt right into it. Finally, he felt, was the opportunity to execute his ideas on the company that he felt he understood better than anyone.
Because of the many quarters spinning its wheels, Lorenzo wasted no time. He reorganized his leadership team into a hub-and-spoke structure and reduced the frequency of team meetings. One of Lorenzo’s strengths was being liked and getting along with people. Although his external manner was slightly bland and superficial, there was something in him that was sincerely kind that made most people trust him. After nearly 20 years he had a good network of people in the company — comfortable and collegial relationships, a community of peers with little friction, like long married couples.
Yet he was surprised to find that, having swiftly executed on both organizational and business changes, the work community he had taken for granted was altered or gone. The seamlessness of interactions had given way to many more people self-consciously seeking time and audience with him. He had rationalized that he needed to act swiftly and largely unilaterally — so he could only sense opposition and critique without hearing about it directly. Though previously content to keep relations at arm’s length, it had always been a pleasant arm’s length. Now he sensed there was greater cohesion among his erstwhile peers than there was between them and him. The chemistry had changed. He didn’t know whether to ignore it or confront it — and had little experience with either.
An example of this dilemma came when he accidentally saw an email between several of his former buddies about one of his initiatives, that depicted him in a joking yet derisive tone. He was more affected than he expected. The logical side of him recognized the banter as nothing more than what he himself had written about decisions from the top — mostly harmless venting. But he had not counted on how hurtful it would feel to see that his people did not always support him; or that they could even undermine him, however situationally. He got a bad night’s sleep over it. The next day he returned to work resolved to be “bigger” than these conflicts — to ignore them — and not to let the changing dynamics sway him from his leadership course.
“Strong of chin, stout of spirit”
US corporate structures often confer CEOs significant power, even as the trend toward team-based leadership is growing. The shift of power dynamic can be particularly noticeable when the CEO is promoted internally, and old patterns of relationships are affected by new patterns of power, influence, and decision-making. As can be seen from this vignette, how these changes are navigated depends strongly on the individual personalities and style of the CEO.
Lorenzo is probably someone disinclined to talk much about feelings or relationships or open his thoughts up for discussion. On one hand this can be a strength — or at least perceived as a strength, not least by Lorenzo himself. “Strong of chin, stout of spirit, strong but silent”¹ is after all right in the center of the norm for masculine men in American and many other cultures. On the other hand, research shows that being too identified with the need to project strength and hide vulnerability can become a liability.
Lorenzo also chose a path of leadership in which power was centralized in him. Although he did not enjoy the interpersonal price he paid, he believed, perhaps correctly, that swift execution was a greater priority than making friends. While Lorenzo has every chance of learning on the job and establishing a new, workable status quo, he is also in danger of traveling downward into an ever-narrowing tunnel of reduced interpersonal and intrapersonal options. The more isolated he feels, the less he is likely to seek to make himself understood, or to solicit the opinion of others.
Were he able to — by himself or with help — explain himself more extensively, chances are good this type of glitch need only be temporary. Most people accept differences in power and are willing to go along with other people being tasked with making decisions, if they understand why. Asking someone to go along with blind trust reinforces the power differential and can actually backfire, creating less trust.
What made Lorenzo’s situation particularly poignant was that he was a genuinely warm man who sought contact and valued camaraderie. It was just that, like so many decent men, he had not learned to show what he actually felt — particularly when the feeling was one of vulnerability. And so when the stakes mattered most, he reached instead for the only tool he knew.
¹ Adler, Eric. “A good man is hard to find — especially in the mirror.” Chicago Tribune, March 22, 1998.
See also: Loneliness at the Top — the cluster article that frames this territory.