THE MAGIC OF TAKING RESPONSIBILITY (11)

 Remember the premise: “Man’s Greatest Fear is the Fear of Being Wrong?” Most of us would agree that the normal human reaction to something we fear is to avoid it. Therefore, doesn’t it follow that we will develop strategies to avoid “Being Wrong?” 

Think about it: If we can avoid taking responsibility, haven’t we successfully ensured that we cannot be made wrong? Recall the pleasure and relief (even smugness) you’ve heard in someone’s voice as he/she says, “Don’t look at me, that wasn’t my responsibility!”

Like all Strategies, this one carries rewards, but it also carries its own share of hazards. Those who use it tend to think that they are applying the tactic only in certain situations, such as in the workplace, but, of course, it’s not true. Avoidance becomes a habit, and, first thing you know, we find ourselves using it in the other parts of our lives as well.

 
Here’s a little story to illustrate the point. During the time I was stationed in Washington, DC, I became interested in the sport of soaring. Before long, I found myself a partner in a very small company that operated from a large field near Warrenton, Virginia. We gave glider rides, we gave flight instruction, and we rented gliders to qualified people. Because of my flying and teaching experience in the Navy and because I had written the flight syllabus, I was designated the Senior Instructor. 

One of our regular students was a friendly character named “Bill.” Bill always wore a Ford Tractor ball cap, and he looked like a local farmer, but he wasn’t.  He was the editor of a little weekly “niche” paper in DC. Bill loved his soaring lessons, and he threw himself into the flying game with great enthusiasm. But, unfortunately, he was not making any discernible progress; he just didn’t seem to “get it.” We began to feel bad about taking his money when there seemed to be no end in sight. So, at an instructors’ meeting, after much discussion, we agreed that Bill would probably never reach a level of competence where we could allow him to solo. Therefore, we would be doing him a favor by telling him the truth and recommending that he take no more lessons. 

They all agreed that it was the job of the designated Senior Instructor to tell Bill the bad news. So, the next Saturday, when he appeared, bright and early with his usual chipper attitude, I took him aside and told him what had been decided. 

To his credit, Bill said: “OK, I’m disappointed, but I’d like to make one last flight.” I said: “fine, I won’t say a word – forget that I am even in the glider – just enjoy yourself.” To my utter amazement, Bill flew like a pro. As I sat there watching, I kept asking myself what could have caused this amazing turnaround.

When the glider came to a stop after the flight, I jumped out, shook his hand and said; “Bill, stay where you are and give me your logbook – I’m signing you off as “safe for solo.” I stood there on the ground and watched as Bill flew another flawless flight. Yes, it wasn’t long before he had earned his private license, and a prouder pilot you never saw.

We concluded that Bill previously had spent far too much of his attention trying to avoid criticism, while on this momentous occasion he had nothing to lose and “took charge.”

 
From that time forward, when a student would ask me that all-important question, “When can I solo?” my answer would be, “Just as soon as you act like you are in command and take full responsibility for the flight!”