Off-Pitch Perfection

This weekend, I thoroughly enjoyed a performance of a Beethoven symphony.

I had gone to the concert with a friend. Until we were at the venue, I hadn’t realized she had founded the choir several decades earlier.

The church venue was beautiful. People in the audience were excited. And the orchestra and choir were wonderful.

My friend wasn’t so happy with the complete performance.

At times, she would lean in and comment that a note was a little flat, or a little too sharp.

Given my level of expertise in conducting orchestras, I was oblivious to the slight variances in pitch.

At the close of the performance, everyone in the audience rose to their feet, clapping, whistling and generally showing signs of great appreciation.

The whole ambience was one of joy and delight.

But my friend was still a little troubled by the ‘failings’ she had perceived in the performance.

Perfection in the Service of Whom?

How does this relate to your experience in leadership?

How often do you seek perfection – only to find that your perspective on perfection differs greatly from those around you?

And how often is your standard of perfection significantly higher than the expectations of your audience?

In these situations, whose opinion matters?

Is it yours, or your audience's?

Perhaps your team could have performed better. Perhaps the deliverable could have been of an even more elevated standard – but did it meet the audience's expectations?

If yes, can you be satisfied with that?

I remember on an executive education programme, preparing a paper on the impact of privatization in the telecom industry in the UK  – whether the impact had been positive or not.

I got hung up in debating endlessly – with myself – as to whether the impact had been positive enough. Or whether more could have been achieved.

My professor, slightly irritated, brought me back down to earth.

‘Have customers benefited from faster installation times and cheaper charges?’

‘Yes.’

‘So the impact has been positive.’

When I started to protest that more could have been achieved, he advised me to turn to the data – and not indulge in flights of speculation.

The audience - customers - were much happier than they had been earlier. They appreciated the results. That's what mattered.

And he prompted a further thought.

‘Is this the end of the process?’

‘No.’

‘So, this is the start of the continuous improvement process, not the end. Why are you looking at this as though no more progress is expected?’

Silence from my side.

Just as it was with my friend and the orchestra.

And just as it possibly is with you and your team.

© Andrea Stone, Stone Leadership