Answer YOUR Email? Ha. (Power in a Digital World)

One new form of digital power is
having your head explode.

When I was a CEO I could send an email to anyone in the organization and have it answered quickly, sometimes instantaneously.

 

I mistakenly came to believe that’s how email worked.  Worse yet, that everyone liked me.

When we were acquired and I suddenly found myself dealing with a huge organization, most of it above me, the pace of response to my emails slowed.  Substantially.  From the "speed of text" to the "speed of snail mail."  From minutes to days.  Later, when I became a consultant, my email slowed further still.  In fact, some of my consulting emails have never been answered.

It turns out that the “speed of email response” is a phenomenon so consistent and predictable that we can draw accurate organizational charts simply by measuring it.  

Where the email chart is at odds with the org chart, we have found someone whose real status (good or bad) differs from his or her title.  In other words, that’s the way the organization reallyworks.

Sadly, instead of being liked, the arc of my email trajectory simply demonstrated a modern fact of business life:  If I have Power, you’re answering my email, and pronto.  But I'll answer yours more slowly and curtly, cut the email string whenever I choose, and will occasionally ignore you completely.

Such is the language of digital power.  I still know how important you are by your corner office, and your black turtleneck and jeans--but now I can smell you coming a hundred servers away.  Or not, as the case may be.


It wasn't that long ago--before byod--that the smallest, sleekest smartphone in a meeting suggested the real Power in the room.  He or she always got the coolest, best stuff first from IT.  It was the first time, some wit suggested, that guys wanted theirs to be tiny.

Here’s another Old World example made new:  If two colleagues go to lunch, the Power manager in the relationship inevitably has his or her back to the wall.  I think it goes back to a Neanderthal thing; the stronger primate wants to be able to survey the savanna, and also wants something warm and inferior between him and the unexpected leopard that may enter the restaurant looking for some egg foo yong.

These would be considered power moves in a business meeting.

But here's the digital twist: If the junior colleague's phone buzzes or text chimes, he leaves the phone right where it is.  On the table.  In his pocket.  But if the Power colleague is summoned digitally, he or she won't hesitate to check.  And answer, if need be, steaming egg foo yong notwithstanding.

Here’s another I have mentioned:  In a long meeting, it used to be the first person to stand, stretch, lean against the wall and grab a cookie was the Power executive in the room.  Now, it's the person who checks his phone while others are talking (but, you'll note, commands the full attention of the room when he or she is talking).  This is the visible manifestation of digital power, the equivalent of the special assistant running in and out of the meeting, interrupting the conversation by passing written messages and whispering in hushed tones to the Power manager about Powerful but secret things.

Remember the old "Me Wall," the entire wall in a Power executive's office taken up with gold clocks and silver gavels, letters from President Reagan and pictures taken with Farah Fawcett at the International Chemical Trade Exposition in 1977?  (When I was in the radio industry in the 1980s, Me Walls were really in vogue.)  Those landscapes of self-absorption have now become Wikipedia entries, closely guarded by family, fans and personal assistants.  The Wikipedia algorithm is completely transparent: Write an article about some old business topic including the word "disrupt," and make sure it's picked up by TechCrunch.  That will be cribbed by Pandodaily.  That's two mentions.  Parlay that notoriety into a TED Talk--say, TEDPoughkeepsie, or TEDBismark, which are always looking for speakers.  Soon you'll have YouTube blazing (thanks to your personal assistant), and your talk will be featured again on TechCrunch (and cribbed on Pandodaily).  That'll lead to 15 or 20 blog posts from the ecosystem that relies on TechCrunch and Pandodaily as its source material.  Now you have enough global mentions to rate an entry on Wikipedia.  Ask your personal assistant to write it (as Wikipedia hates autobiographies) and send it to your aunt's dentist to have him post it.  Once up, of course, you can now add to your digital Me Wall at your leisure, knowing that it is being transmitted far beyond the confines of your corner office.

There are many more examples of how the digital world has recreated the pecking order of the old analog world.  Consider email again:  The order of names in an email header almost invariably indicates the relative esteem in which the author holds each person.  To be a single “cc” on an email, in fact, elevates you to the top of the esteem(ing) pile, the real Power.

Likewise, Power takes six months to respond to a LinkedIn request.  And, you might have observed, Low Power has a very lengthy, detail-rich LinkedIn resume.  Moderate Power has a shorter and offbeat LinkedIn resume, not afraid to make up titles and poke fun (since Moderate Power has its FU money).  Great Power has a very, very short LinkedIn resume, sometimes with only the current job, though with a link to Great Power's web page.  But, Real Power does not have a LinkedIn account.  Or a web page.  Only a Wikipedia entry.

Isaac would have had his emails answered.

In the old days it was the double-thick, satin business card and awesome title.  Now, the digital world makes it so much easier to spot Power.

Here's an interesting twist on digital Power.  Ever been to a business lecture, or venture conference?  Low Power sits in the crowd and takes notes on paper, often a Moleskin.  Moderate Power takes notes with a stylus on EverNote.  Great Power stands near the exits and doesn't take notes, as Great Power knows it all already.  But Real Power?  Real Power sits quietly and takes notes on paper, just like Low Power.  Really.  You can spot them by the gray hair and traditional yellow pad, sitting near the front.

By the way, Real Power often professes to dislike technology.  Doesn't get it.  Doesn't need it.

Do not be fooled.  Real Power also says "Money isn't everything," and "Failure is good."  Real Power can be no more trusted in the digital world than it could in the analog world.

In a related twist, Technology often professes to dislike Real Power.  A recent article in HBR ("How Google Sold Its Engineers on Management") describes the company essentially doing away with its managers, since none of the engineers knew what they did or thought they added value.  That lasted about two months before chaos set in.  Google fixed the problem by applying Big Data, arriving at a set of conclusions about how managers could really contribute that was nearly identical to what the Harvard Business School determined (with only Little Data) in, what, 1908, and Peter Drucker was writing about in the 1950s.

All of which gets classified in the Department of "Technology Changes But Human Nature Does Not."  Remember when the Web was going to have a leveling effect and enhance democracy, opening new doors to the disenfranchised and downtrodden?  (How's that working out for us?)  Likewise, the digital world was going to level titles and create happy, flat, collaborative organizations.

Which is all good unless, of course, you can't seem to get an email answered. 

Posted by Entrepreneur Generations

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