Some of the most meaningful moments of my life, and some of the greatest lessons, have happened either with complete strangers or with people I didn’t particularly like. Just ask anyone who works for Vivo what supermarkets sell and they’ll likely roll their eyes and recite a certain story by heart. They’ll tell you supermarkets don’t “sell” anything, per se. They simply help you spend your money. When a slightly-eccentric-but-obviously-brilliant client of mine pointed this out to me, it helped me completely reshape how we were going about “selling” at Vivo. It turns out that we, too, do not sell a darned thing. No one wakes up in the morning unsure whether they need resources or not. Rather, as I explained to my sales team and incorporated into “sales” training – our job is to help managers – who have already set out to find a resource, learn to purchase from us. Simple, right? We just need to be in the right place at the right time with the right message.
This reminds me of one of the earliest unexpected life lessons that I can remember. It took place more than 20 years ago, when I inadvertently ended up on a long drive with the meanest sales director I’d ever known. We had nearly nothing in common. I was an over-educated 20-something from New York, ready to take on the world but still carving my place in Corporate America; “Bob” was, by reputation, an arrogant, middle-aged man who was on his fourth marriage and who had little regard for workplace rules or social norms. Left with nothing to discuss while stuck in Silicon Valley traffic, I asked him about his three previous marriages. “Do you think you knew each time, as you walked down the aisle that you were making a mistake?” I began. “Or was it that, each time, you or your ex-wife changed and were no longer compatible?” Bob thought for a moment and answered, “I think we both knew or should have known that it wouldn’t last, each time, from the beginning.” He continued. “People don’t change. I think each of my ex-wives went into our marriage believing I would change after we got married. But people are who they are.” He did point out that behavior can change and that people mature, but that anyone who enters a relationship hoping the other party will change in fundamental ways is setting themselves up for disappointment.
Profound? Maybe, maybe not. But at the time, Bob’s reflections resonated with me. He even showed humility I didn’t know he possessed. His thoughts forced me to sit down with my own expectations and make sure I was not hoping my then-fiancée was going to change. Did I love Steve as he was? Were our areas of difference fundamental or small? To this day, in our 18th year of marriage, I am at peace with who he is – a fun-loving, big-hearted, kind man and wonderful father, who could not plan a vacation if his life depended on it and cannot pick out presents or pull off cute romantic gestures at any cost. I didn’t need him to change and become a planner. I don’t live every birthday and holiday sulking about the unfairness of having a husband who never surprises me. Likewise, Steve seemed not to need me to change. He’s never tried to make me more “sweet” or less snarky; he seems to have made peace with things that were not likely to change, like my general impatience and my unwillingness to accept or encourage mediocrity.
So, thank you, Bob. I didn’t like you before the car ride and I didn’t particularly like you after it, either. You were still a repugnant bully who belittled and humiliated those under you. But I managed to learn from you. You had something to offer and I embraced the wisdom you shared, despite my lack of respect for you.
And that is where the real lesson is. We don’t have to like, respect or even know someone to learn from them. I don’t need to agree with you to understand or appreciate your point of view. I can still learn from you even if I don’t like what you say or stand for. In fact, as a CEO, I certainly hope that everyone who works for me does not agree with me regularly! As soon as we all agree with each other on everything, we stop learning from each other; we stop challenging each other; we stop inspiring each other to think differently. But by allowing ourselves to disagree, to be open to thoughts and ideas from people we may not know or even like, new ideas emerge. We think differently; we get creative; we butt heads in true collaboration in order to find new solutions.
Next time you either encounter someone by accident (like in a supermarket) or have to endure their presence (like with “Bob”), make the most of it. We should never write anyone off as a substandard human with nothing to offer, nor should we ever try to change people. If we do that, we miss out on real growth experiences and opportunities. We’re stuck in this life anyway; we may as well make the most of every chance to engage with others.
