Whether it’s bodies or brochures, people tend to aspire to the same goal: perfection. Show your best side. Boast on your company’s successes. Hide the blemishes on your body. Don’t bring up the Achilles Heel of your business.
Those who do so are doomed to become indistinguishable.
Alan Brown explains what he calls the mirage of perfection:
As an ideal, in the abstract, perfection is a noble pursuit, no? But everyone understands intuitively that without the blemishes, the perfect face is meaningless. That irreguarities add character to anything natural or human.
Cindy Crawford comes to mind after reading Alan’s comments. From her first trip down the catwalk, Cindy had the look to become a successful model — except for that mole on her face, which seemed to some (even Cindy herself, at first) a hindrance. Yet her rise to supermodel status may not have happened without the mole, according to Las Fashionistas:
[Cindy Crawford] almost had [her mole] removed. What a mistake that would have been. She might have ended up being just another model at that rate.
Take Superman. Perfect in every way except for bouts of weakness when exposed to rocks from Krypton. Brian Lanahan of Character LLC suggests that kryptonite made the caped hero’s career: “Superman is boring without kryptonite.”
See a pattern? It’s the flaws that make people in life — and characters in a story — interesting. Same goes with organizations. Yet many of those don’t see it that way. In The power of flaws, Andrew Taylor describes what he sees too often among arts organizations:
It’s an insight as old as theater — conflict, flaw, and tension are what make narratives compelling. And yet, read through most . . . marketing materials . . . and what will you find? Perfection, triumph, success, and positive spin.
Showing your flaws doesn’t just make you more interesting; it also gives you more credibility. Shaula Evans, a member of David Maister’s tech team, builds trust quickly by taking her “dead opposite” approach, as described in Why You Don’t Want Me:
[M]any people approach business relationships like a romantic courtship: they put their best face forward, make outlandish claims and set incredibly high expectations, and then, over time, they fail absymally at the impossible standards they’ve set and great frustration (and often high drama) ensues for everyone.
My approach (when I’m on my game) has been the dead opposite: I tell the other person all the very worst things about me, all the things that make me hard to work with or that might make him or her choose a different partner.
Being brutally honest about my own flaws and weaknesses and particular needs seems to have encouraged the person or people on the other side of the table to respond in a direct, honest way (instead of an over-inflated, artificial way), so we could have a real conversation about whether we met each others’ needs.
Shaula’s remarks remind me of the experiment conducted by Cleveland State University researchers in the mid-1980s. As I recall, they created two fictitious job candidates — David and John. Each had identical resumes and letters of reference, with one key exception: John’s letter included the sentence “Sometimes, John can be difficult to get along with” (or something to that effect). The researchers showed the resumes to dozens of personnel directors. To their surprise, John was the overwhelming favorite of the two candidates.
The lesson: Get real. Shun perfection. Show your warts.