
Our work is all about words. Choosing the right ones, saying them at the best time in the most effective way. Sounds simple, but it’s anything but – as we’ve been reminded several times this week.
The Toyota recall crisis has been intriguing, especially for those of us who had to sit through business school lectures in the ’90’s explaining that Toyota’s processes and procedures were the world standard by which everyone else would be judged, and found wanting. On the evidence of their handling of the sticky accelerator issue, Toyota management should be back in school now, and at the back of the class.
Toyota’s message in today’s newspapers is late in coming, and oddly worded: “apologising to our customers for any concern we may have caused”. Presumably lawyers had a hand in drafting it, but the overall impression for Toyota owners is not a reassuring one.
An article in today’s Observer Sports Monthly also reminds us of the value of the right words – deconstructing the football manager’s half-time talk, the mythical process by which a failing team can be lifted and sent back out to victory. It debunks several myths. Most people assume that Rafa Benitez must have delivered the speech of the century to his Liverpool side, 3-0 down against Milan in the final of the Champions’ League, inspiring them to go out and level the score, and then win on penalties. Sadly, Benitez can’t remember what he said, and the players who were there don’t agree either. One of them claims Benitez was so emotional and confused that he tried to send twelve players out for the second half.
The article also suggests that the half-time dressing down, the legendary “hairdryer” tactic employed by Sir Alex Ferguson and so many others in the game, is rarely successful – and usually counter-productive. Criticism, abuse and humiliation rarely make people perform better; carefully chosen words of support, belief and inclusion usually do.
Not always the case, of course – and the American cycling team manager Jon Vaughters may yet have cause to regret a casual insult this week against his former team-mate Lance Armstrong. In an interview in the Times, Vaughters suggests that, in last year’s Tour De France, Armstrong’s team had to “soft pedal”, or take it easy, in order not to embarrass him by leaving him behind.
Armstrong is a man who’s turned grudge-bearing into a lifelong passion, and whose career has been driven by anger and revenge. So far, he’s simply “tweeted” a warning that he “won’t be forgetting the comment any time soon”.
Vaughters is intelligent and thoughtful, and it’s possible that the insult was a calculated piece of gamesmanship, designed to unsettle his rival rather than spur him on, but if I was him I’d be a bit more careful about choosing my words in future.