CHAPTER 1

BLIND SPOT ONE

Networking Without Connecting

"I first learned about blind spots after meeting a very interesting group ofpeople." Russell said. "It's an interesting story, if you're willing to hear it."

Two men walked past Amir and Russell. Each walked in step with theother, with identical key cards clipped to their waist. They were talkingon mobile headsets while simultaneously working on their tablets. Russellchuckled at the men—two colleagues, disconnected, even though theywere walking right next to each other.

Amir nodded. "I'd love to."

Russell rubbed his palms on the rough cement of the bench, leanedback, and began his story.

"It all started at a networking event ..."

* * *

It was a cold October night in Toronto. I was walking down ChestnutStreet after parking my Saturn—I drove a Saturn back then—in a parkinggarage on Spadina Road.

I was headed to the Hemisphere Hotel, a small business-class hotelrun by the university. The hotel stood at the end of Chestnut Street,backed by the Old City Hall.

The hotel looked across a park, and a square that hosted a farmer'smarket in the mornings. They were both dark and empty now, but theHemisphere was open and bustling.

As soon as I walked inside the hotel, I knew I'd have a problem.

"Oh my," I gasped.

The hotel was full of people.

People, filing into lines that stretched across the foyer. People, swingingexpensive handbags and shiny leather briefcases. People, exchangingshiny white business cards faster than dealers on the Vegas strip.

I'm not normally shy of crowds, but this was a mob.

I wandered around the foyer for a while, and found the line I belongedto: a queue of men and women wearing suits, trading cards, and chatting.The line led to a fold-out table where the organizers were ticking namesoff a long list.

I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Excuse me. Do you need sales-boosting software?"

I turned around. A short, square woman glared up at me. She worethe strangest necklace I'd ever seen. Except, it wasn't a necklace. It was aname tag, stuffed with business cards. The name tag read: Donna Jones.It was bound around her neck with a black lanyard. The words FourthQuarter Sales ran up the lanyard in white lettering.

"Um," I tore my eyes off the unconventional jewelry. "Actually mycompany—myname's Russell by the way—my head of human resources—hername's Nancy—she thought it would be a good idea to attend thisthing so I could get some ideas for customer service. So—"

"What browser do you use?" The woman interrupted. She reachedup to her name tag and flicked one of her cards from the plastic pocket.Without breaking eye contact, she handed one to me. "If you use InternetExplorer, I can guarantee you that our software will increase youroptimization in any sales environment."

"... What?" I asked.

"Are you not familiar with the paradigm of high-impact technologyinnovation in online sales environments?" She asked. She folded her armsand looked at me like I'd just failed a test.

I mumbled something and, confused, I slowly turned away. The womanshook her head at me and started talking to the person behind her.

The registration line moved fast. I reached the front in a few seconds.A man with a clipboard beamed at me. "Hi there! Name and company?"

I leaned forward on the table. "Russell Baxter," I murmured. I pulledout a printout. "My company name is Prism. I have my registrationinformation here."

The man at the desk nodded and handed me a name tag. "Throughthe hallway and into the Rose Suite. Have fun!"

I left the line with my name tag clipped to my suit pocket. I could stillhear the sales-software-lady, Donna. She was directing her buzzwords tothe registration desk.

I made my way to the Rose Suite. More people: men in power-suits,women in shoulder-pads. More screechy laughter and tired smiles.

I decided this would be a fine time for a drink.

I found the bar at the end of the room, populated by a silent group ofprofessionals—my introverted comrades—who'd decided playing withtheir phones was better than learning about the paradigms of high-impactinnovation—whatever that was. It felt like comfortable defeat to jointhem, but in the end, I chose to hang around these quiet counterparts. Itraded nods with them and the other folks walking by.

I finished my drink and was thinking about ordering another. Butthen, a voice caught my attention.

"Having fun?" Someone asked.

I looked up at a woman. She was about the same age as me: brunette,with gold earrings, a dark pantsuit, and an aura of polished poise. I couldn'tsee her name tag.

I smiled shyly and shrugged. "Sure. Something like that."

She tilted her head and smiled. "What do you mean by that?"

"Hmm." I searched for my words. "I guess I don't see the point ... Ofnetworking events. Or, networking in general. I'm only here because myHR head suggested it."

"You don't think much of networking?" The woman chuckled a bit."You mean you've never needed advice or help from someone?"

"Well, that's not really networking," I said. "Networking is morelike ... a sales pitch. And I'd rather leave that to my sales staff."

"Tell you what," the woman said. She pointed to two people aboutfifteen feet away. "Those two are friends of mine. The man's name isStephen Shedletzky, and the woman is Susan Gregory. If you don't believein networking after talking to them, I'll admit that it's pointless."

"Really?" I asked.

"Really."

I took another look at the two.

Stephen seemed like one of those people that perpetually smiled. Hehad curly dark brown hair that dipped into a sharp widow's peak. He wasdressed in dark jeans and a blazer—slightly more casual than the power-suitsaround him.

Susan was a brunette, wearing a turquoise blouse with a navy pinstripedskirt. She spoke with an accent that I placed somewhere betweenBritish and New Zealand.

Susan and Stephen were different from everyone else in the room. Icould see it from how they stood, how they spoke, and how they smiled.They looked like they were actually having fun and connecting withpeople.

What did I have to lose?

"I think I'll do that. Thanks," I said. I put down my glass by the table,pushed off from the bar, and approached the two.

"Excuse me?" I asked. They turned to look at me. "Um, there was awoman over there who—oh, that's strange. She's vanished."

"Ah, I think we know who you're talking about." Susan said with alaugh. "Sorry—I didn't catch your name?"

"Russell. Russell Baxter," I said, extending my hand. "At any rate, thatwoman suggested I ask you both about networking."

"Oh, really?" Stephen grinned. "Well, that is something we like totalk about."

"So. Russell." Susan gestured to the room. "You came to meet a wholelot of people, right?"

"I guess?" I said.

Stephen put his hand on my back.

"Sell yourself?" He asked.

"Probably?"

"Make money?" Susan held out her thumb and forefinger and rubbedthem together.

"In the long run." I agreed.

"Okay," Stephen said. He took his arm away. "If you want to networkeffectively, stop doing those things. Now."

There was a moment of silence.

"Are you still doing it?" Stephen asked.

"What? No." I said.

"Good." Susan said. "You see, networking isn't about just makingmoney, or making a ton of connections."

"It's a lot more about finding people whose values and beliefs alignwith yours." Stephen continued. "That way, you can combine yourstrengths and work towards a common goal together."

"Okay," I nodded slowly, not quite buying it. "That sounds good andall, but it's not exactly going to get my company the results we need. I'mnot in this for fun. I'm in it for Prism."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my own stack of cards. Therewere a hundred of them, bound by a blue rubber band.

I held out the cards to Stephen and Susan. "I need to find someone tohelp us with a customer service initiative. I have one hundred cards. Thatmeans if I spread out as many cards as possible, I'll have more chancesof finding what I need than if I spend my time finding one person whosevalues align with mine."

Stephen whistled.

"Fancy cards," Susan said. "Could I see them?"

I handed her the stack. She looped off the rubber band and leafedthrough them. "Wow. That is a lot of them."

"Pity you don't need them." Stephen said.

"... What?" I asked.

"Look." Stephen pointed out across the room. "Your machine-gunphilosophy is going to turn you into her."

I followed Stephen's eyes, and saw a familiar character. Donna Jones:the woman with the card-stuffed name tag. She was back, still trying toimpose her software on bystanders.

"Excuse me," she barreled into a circle of people, knocking a smallerman out of her way. "Excuse me. Do any of you want to boost your sales?Because our software uses two different levels of—"

"She's what I call a Pez Dispenser." Stephen said. "On auto-pilot,firing out business cards. And I guarantee you, she's not going to createloyalty with behavior like that. She'll fail more often, work harder withoutgetting any more results, and give up once she hits her target. Spaghettiagainst the wall."

I grunted. Stephen had a point.

Susan added. "Somewhere down the line, we made networkingsomething it isn't supposed to be. It's not about selling yourself to asmany people as possible."

"Instead, it's about building meaningful connections with people."Stephen continued. "People who believe the same things as you, whoshare the same vision for the future. People who are driven by a commonpurpose."

"And then putting effort into building those relationships, so bothparties can benefit." Susan said. "Not so you can just get something outof them."

I was still staring at Donna, the Pez Dispenser. She'd gotten a fewsheepish people to take her business cards. I doubted they'd be callingher back.

"Alright," I said. "So, let's say I believe you. How do I network tonight?"

"That's easy," Stephen said. "Find people with the same values andbeliefs as you, and combine your strengths with theirs to accomplish yourshared purpose. An easy way to do that is to strike up a conversation withpeople, share what's important to you, and if you get a positive emotionalresponse from them—bam—you're compatible."

"My values?" I asked. "Like, family? Democracy? Long live theQueen?"

Susan stifled a giggle. "What are you trying to accomplish with yourcompany?"

"Well Nancy, our HR head, said I could find someone to help withour customer service—" I began.

"No, no," she waved her hands. "I mean—what are you up to at yourcompany, as a whole? What's your purpose?"

I thought about it.

"... Selling toasters?" I ventured. "And other low-energy kitchenappliances."

"Russell. You could do anything in the world. Why Prism?"

Why Prism indeed? I crossed my arms and thought about it.

"Because I love the company." I said. "The people in it are like family.And I also love our mission—to make our world more sustainablewith low-energy products, and to deliver something valuable to ourcustomers."

Stephen nodded encouragingly. "I suggest you lead with that."

And I did start with that—our mission. From end to end, I workedmy way across the room. I shook hands, had a drink, and told some jokes.And do you know what?

Turns out I didn't like most of the people in that room. However, thatdidn't end up being a bad thing. If I'd done my rapid-fire plan, I could haveended up working with someone I couldn't stand.

There was one exception though.

As the activity in the Rose Suite settled down, I tucked myself away ina corner. I'd taken out my name tag, and was writing a few notes on it.

"Ugh." I shook my pen and scribbled; I was running out of ink.

That's when I felt a presence behind me.

"Hi, Russell. I spoke to Stephen and Susan." A woman's voice said."They seemed pretty pleased to meet you."

I turned. It was the woman again—the brunette woman by the bar.I still couldn't see her name tag.

"Yes." I said. "Well, it went both ways! They were great people. I'msorry. I don't even get your name."

"It's Cindy Stradling," she said. "And I might just be able to—wait,what are you doing?"

I glanced at my name tag, and the half-finished notes.

"I'm actually writing down all the insights Stephen and Susan sharedwith me." I said. "But my pen's out of ink."

Cindy smirked. She handed me a pen. On the pen were the wordsAthena Training and Consulting Inc..

"Thanks." I said. I put the pen in my pocket and resolved to finishmy notes later. "Anyway, yes—I learned a lot. You said your name wasCindy?"

"Yes," she said. "And from what Stephen and Susan shared with me,I'd like to speak to you some more myself."

Cindy and I had an interesting conversation after that. We talkedabout ourselves and what's important to us. We discussed my career,and what was going on at Prism. And we talked a bit about her company:Athena Training and Consulting Inc..

I left the networking event feeling like I'd actually done something.I'd met three intriguing, genuine people. And, when I got back home, Ieven had a pen to finish my notes on what I'd learned.

NOTES FROM RUSSELL'S NAME TAG

WHAT NETWORKING ISN'T

Networking isn't selling a product, or selling yourself. It's not an excuseto get your name out there to as many folks as possible. It's not an excuseto be sleazy. It's not an attempt to take advantage of others, or to haveothers take advantage of you. Networking IS NOT being a Pez Dispenserthat gives away business cards that no one asks for.

WHAT NETWORKING SHOULD BE

Networking is the act of making genuine connections and fostering theconnections you choose for the long-term. It starts by finding out yourown values and purpose, and then finding other people with similarones—people who believe what you believe.

WHAT STEPS TO TAKE

Start by realizing who you are. What is the core of your mission? Whatgoals are you trying to achieve in your organization and career? When wetalk about "goals," we don't mean goals like "making a sale" or "becomingVP." We mean more substantial goals that contribute towards a vision ofthe world, and how it could be better.

Thought leader Simon Sinek says, "People don't buy what you do.They buy why you do it." Share your purpose first instead of your product.This will get you more meaningful responses, and will help differentiateyou from the crowd. "My name is Russell Baxter and I sell toasters," won'tfind you the same meaningful connections as "my name is Russell Baxter.I believe that industry can work together with the environment, and wedo so by empowering people to make smart decisions about their kitchenappliances." People who believe what you believe will be fascinated bywhat you do.

Try to make a few valuable connections. They're much moresustainable and useful than short-term professional flings. And you don'thave to limit your connections to networking events either. You can buildyour network by meeting with your trusted colleagues one-on-one, andasking them for people who align with your beliefs.

Play the long game! Networking isn't about getting quick resultsfrom people—that's just manipulation. Instead, it's about benefiting fromcollaboration and mutual interest over a long period of time. As leaders,we have a clear understanding of our values and an ability to articulate avision of the future that we are contributing towards. Leaders know thatthey cannot do it alone. Networking is one way to grow our followingand tribe as leaders.

CHAPTER 2

BLIND SPOT TWO

Leading Without a Personal Brand

Russell wrapped up his story. "A lot of things changed for me after thatnight."

"Cindy?" Amir asked. "That name sounds familiar."

"It should," Russell said. "I just got off the phone with her when youcame to see me."

"You're still in touch?"

Russell nodded. "Oh yes. Cindy is a professional trainer, and we'veknown each other for years now. She's the founder of Athena Training andConsulting Inc., and the Athena Alliance, a group of top international trainersand coaches. After I met her at that networking event, I was intrigued withher, and the collective knowledge her alliance could offer. In fact, I turnedout to need that knowledge for a problem that came up that Monday."

* * *

The Monday following my networking night, I drove to work asusual. I had no idea that meeting Cindy and her friends last Friday wouldfundamentally change my professional life. I also had no idea that I'dneed her help so soon.

By half-past eight, I'd navigated through the rush hour traffic andarrived at our office.

I pulled into the lot, and parked my Saturn in my reserved space,which was right next to the doors. I hitched my briefcase strap over myshoulder, stepped out of my car, and tossed my coffee cup into a nearbygarbage can.

I was about to push through the doors and enter the building, whenI turned back to look at my car.

Although I definitely liked the convenience of the spot, I still hadn'tgotten used to it being so visible.

My car sat right at the front of the lot—in the very first space, closestto the building. Every person walking into work—whether they werefrom Prism, or from one of the other offices—could see exactly whenI was in the office, and exactly when I wasn't. It was a big change fromwhen I joined the company.