Learning to Lift with Mason

When people experience the fundamental state of leadership, they are purpose-centered, internally directed, other-focused, and externally open. To understand each of these characteristics, we share a story about Ryan and his son Mason that illustrates both what the fundamental state of leadership is and what it is not. Ryan begins this story in a normal psychological state. A normal psychological state is not bad; it is simply common. Sometimes a normal state leads to negative influence, and sometimes it does not, but it does not achieve the same type of influence that comes from the fundamental state of leadership. In this story Ryan experiences a change from the normal state to the fundamental state of leadership.

Ryan: Shortly before Mason turned six years old he and I fell into an unhealthy pattern. Mason would do something wrong, such as provoke his sister or refuse to clean up. In response, I would tell him that I would put him in a time-out. He would scream, "I hate you! I wish you weren't part of our family! Go away and never come back!" I would then try to calm him down and explain why he should clean up or leave his sister alone and why the time-out was the consequence. In spite of this, Mason would scream more and sometimes even hit me. Often I would have to pick him up and take him to his bedroom kicking and screaming. I had no idea how to break out of this pattern.

One reason Mason and I were unable to break out of this pattern was that I was treating Mason's behavior as a problem; I did not like Mason's tantrums and I wanted him to behave the way he had before. His old behaviors were comfortable for me: I was comfort-centered. This desire to stay comfortable is a characteristic of a normal psychological state. In my desire for comfort I never considered that perhaps Mason was behaving differently because of changes that had happened in his life, such as starting kindergarten. If his circumstances were different, that meant that my circumstances were different as well. Trying to make people behave the same way under new circumstances is often not the most appropriate way to influence them.

Eventually, I decided to become more purpose-centered with Mason. This focus on purpose is one characteristic of the fundamental state of leadership. Instead of trying to make Mason behave as he had before, I asked myself what result I wanted to create. I decided that my purpose was to help Mason learn how to make responsible choices of his own volition. Once I made this decision, I was no longer interested in whether he was behaving in a way with which I was comfortable. Instead, I was wondering how I could help Mason learn to make responsible choices.

As I thought about this I realized that Mason was already making many responsible choices. He often made responsible choices, for example, when he was clear about what the consequences of his choices were in advance. He was also better at making these choices when my wife Amy or I had spent quality time with him that day. Based on these insights, I changed the way I interacted with Mason. I tried to anticipate opportunities for Mason to make decisions—such as when bedtime was approaching or when it was time to clean up—and I made a point of helping him understand his options and the consequences of each option in advance. Then I would let him make his own decisions. I also made an explicit effort to spend more quality time with him.

My efforts to help Mason understand his choices and consequences and to spend more time with him improved the situation somewhat. He appreciated the time I spent with him, and in some cases made better choices. But, there were still times when I was not able to anticipate decisions ahead of time, when he made poor choices even when he understood the consequences, or when I was not able to spend as much time with him as I would have liked. In situations such as these he threw tantrums when he had to do many of the things I asked him to do.

Another change came to my psychological state one day when Mason started to badger me about something while I was changing his little sister's diaper. I was fully occupied and told him to wait. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I was not willing to let him interrupt me, and yet when he was doing something, I had no problem telling him to stop what he was doing. Sometimes this was legitimate, but often there was no reason why I had to insist that he stop what he was doing at that moment. It became clear to me that my impatience was the cause of many of his tantrums. This lack of patience and respect was a sign that I was externally directed. External direction is a characteristic of a normal psychological state. When people are externally directed, they let circumstances (such as the drive to interrupt Mason to get him to do what I want) drive their behavior instead of their values (such as patience and respect).

When I realized that I was being externally directed, I decided that I would become internally directed. Internal direction is a characteristic of the fundamental state of leadership in which people experience the dignity and integrity that comes with exercising the self-control necessary to live up to the values that they expect of others. In Mason's case I became internally directed by showing him and his activities the same respect that I wanted from him. For example, when it came to interrupting one of his activities, I would ask him how much time he needed to finish what he was doing, and then ask him to do the chore that I wanted him to do after he had completed the activity. As I showed Mason increased patience and respect, his tantrums decreased significantly.

One day while I was making dinner for Mason and his sister Katie, I offered to read him a book while he ate. Mason was excited. When I put the meal on the table, though, Mason started hoarding the food, leaving Katie with none. Katie started to cry. I asked him why he was hoarding the food; I tried to help him understand his choices and the consequences that would result from each choice. Even so, he just screamed at me, saying that he would not be my friend anymore. I was shocked by the intensity of his reaction. I was planning to spend time with him; I was trying to help him see his choices and consequences; I was trying to show him patience and respect. I did not know what to do. In spite of all of my efforts, Mason was screaming again. Bewildered and exasperated, I almost told Mason to stop immediately or I would put him in a time-out.

When I was about to threaten Mason with the time-out I felt self-focused and internally closed. Focusing on ourselves and closing ourselves off to feedback are characteristics of a normal psychological state. When we are self-focused, we are concerned only with our own needs, feelings, and wants. We see other people as objects that either help us or impede us in our goals. In my case, Mason was an object that was preventing me from my goal of showing that I was a good father.

When we are internally closed we ignore and deny feedback, such as the feedback that I was getting from Mason that said all my efforts to show that I was a good dad were not working. We ignore or deny feedback out of fear that the feedback says something about our worth as human beings. Because of this fear, and the frustration I felt, my first instinct was to get angry.

In my anger I was about to threaten Mason with a time-out. Before I did, however, I remembered my purpose: to teach Mason how to make responsible choices. I also remembered that in my previous efforts with Mason I thought I was doing the right thing and yet I was not showing him the respect I wanted him to show me. I had been at least somewhat wrong in those situations, and I could be wrong here as well. So, just as I was about to react, I caught myself and considered the possibility that I might be wrong here as well. And as I opened myself to that possibility, I also opened myself up to what Mason was feeling, and to what his needs might be. I became other-focused.

A focus on others' needs and feelings is another characteristic of the fundamental state of leadership. When we focus on others we feel empathy and desire to be compassionate. When I focused on Mason, I realized that Mason's screaming was rather extreme. He must be hurting, I felt, to have such an extreme reaction. Maybe his lashing out was the only way he knew to deal with some pain he felt inside, and if Mason was hurting inside I wanted to know why. I was no longer interested in proving I was a good father. Instead I wanted to understand why Mason might be hurting. And once I realized this, my desire to avoid feedback disappeared; I wanted feedback so that I could learn why Mason was feeling this way. Instead of being internally closed, I became externally open.

Openness to external cues—to feedback—is the final characteristic of the fundamental state of leadership. When we are open to these cues we learn, grow, and adapt ourselves to the situation unfolding before us. In my experience with Mason, my focus on purpose, my commitment to act respectfully, my empathy, and my desire to learn from feedback created an entirely new situation. And because I was in a new situation, paying attention to new cues, the unconscious, automatic part of my brain began noticing new patterns in those cues and coming up with new responses faster than the controlled, conscious part of my brain. In other words, I began to have a feeling—an intuition—about what I should do. The intuition I felt was to read to Mason anyway.

My conscious reaction to this unconscious intuition was to think that reading to Mason was a crazy idea. Why would I want to reinforce his bad behavior? Somehow, though, it felt like the right thing to do, so I took a chance. I sat down and asked Mason if he would still like me to read to him.

My question to Mason was honest. It was not an attempt to bribe him into letting Katie have her share of the food. I could make more food for Katie or find another way to make her happy if I needed to. If Mason said yes and listened to the story without sharing the food, I would have found another solution for Katie. I was acting on how I genuinely felt at that moment.

When I offered to read the story to Mason he melted. He found a piece of paper and a crayon and wrote, "I AM SORY. I AM YOUR FREND. I WANT TO BE YOUR FREND." He handed me the paper. I told him that of course we were friends. Mason threw his arms around my neck and burst into tears. Then he let Katie have her share of the food. I read him the book while they ate their dinner.

I am not sure why he responded the way he did; I suspect that Mason, who was not even six years old at the time, could not have explained it himself. Perhaps he felt guilty because he knew what he was doing was wrong but he was scared to admit it. Perhaps he wanted to feel he had control over his own life, and once he knew he had control he no longer felt a need to exert it. Perhaps he simply needed to feel loved. Maybe it was all of the above.

Based on the scientific research that we will discuss throughout this book, I believe that Mason wanted to change because I connected with his deepest feelings and helped him work through those feelings in a purposeful, respectful way—even if neither of us could put those feelings into words. What I know for sure is that in a normal psychological state, my intuition was to punish Mason, but when I experienced the fundamental state of leadership, my intuition was to read to him. By acting on that intuition, I changed my relationship with my son. Offering to read to him was only a part of what inspired Mason to change. Offering to read a book, or to do any nice thing, may not inspire any change in another situation. In fact, in a different situation I might have had an intuition to punish Mason for his behavior. The intuition was less about what I did, and more about who I was.

In the weeks following this event, Mason's tantrums ended almost completely. Sometimes he still did things that I wished he would not do, but his behavior improved and so did mine. I still sometimes act in ways that are comfort-centered, externally driven, self-focused, or internally closed, but I am learning how to experience the fundamental state of leadership more often. When I do, Mason tends to be lifted by my efforts, as do I.

The fundamental state of leadership, as illustrated in the story of Ryan's relationship with Mason, is a psychological state in which a person is (1) centered on purpose, (2) directed by internal values, (3) focused on the feelings and needs of others, and (4) open to external cues that make learning, growth, and adaptation possible. We named this book Lift because this is what happens when people experience the fundamental state of leadership: they lift their own thoughts, feelings, actions, and outcomes and, in turn, those of others. Lifting ourselves and lifting others are interrelated experiences. We are unlikely to lift others without lifting ourselves, and we are unlikely to lift ourselves without lifting others.

The changes we need to make in order to experience the fundamental state of leadership depend upon our current situation. We may experience the state and lift others in one situation, but then the situation changes and we, like Ron, suddenly discover that we are no longer experiencing it. New circumstances often pull us into more normal psychological states, where we focus on problems rather than purpose, react to our circumstances rather than use our values to drive our behaviors, dwell on our own agendas rather than empathize with others, and avoid the feedback that could enable us to learn and grow. When we do, we weigh people down rather than lift them up. The circumstances of everyday life create strong pressure to fall back into normal states, even after the most uplifting of experiences. Even so, scientific research and practical experience teach us how to lift ourselves and others once again. Based on this research, we offer four questions that we each can use to lift ourselves and others, becoming a positive force in any situation.