It is election day in New Zealand tomorrow and I can't wait - yet it's not the result that I am impatient for - it's some respite from the storm of posturing, politicking and extreme rhetoric of the campaign. It's not that I don't care about the result. I do. The fate of our house lies in the balance with it. I think what bugs me most is the constant reminder, from the very process itself, that we live our lives in a world of smoke and mirrors - where honesty is more relative than real.
Much of what we do and say seems to be done with the underlying intent of arranging ourselves in the minds of others - not with who we really are but with who we want them to believe that we are. It's as if, on our own, as we are, we are not enough. I need to be seen as better than, or as worse than, or as more deserving, or as anything except who I actually am. Does this clip remind you of anything?
The trouble with marketing ourselves in this way is that we risk losing all credibility with the very people we seek to influence. I walk or drive past an election billboard in my neighbourhood several times a day. The picture of the candidate is so flawless that I know it must be a lie. I find my resentment for it growing each time I pass it. If he can't be honest with his picture - what else is he trying to deceive me with?
Yet how often do we find ourselves airbrushing our own stories, usually in the company of others, to secure some perceived advantage in our competitive world of one-upmanship. Is the person portrayed in my CV or my on-line profile the real me or is it the stylised projection - designed to evoke a specific reaction?
My golf handicap is derived from my last 20 rounds - the best 10 are taken and averaged to give a standard that I am expected to play to. All things being equal, I am only going to meet or exceed that standard once in every four rounds. What if our CV tells the story of the best 10 days in our last 20 years? Is it any surprise that we tend to feel anxious about being exposed when we start each new job or engagement?
As leaders we think we need to show strength in everything we do - and that strength comes from always being right - and yet in doing this we put our greatest weakness on display for all to see. Maybe real strength comes from having the courage to own our 'weak side' as much as we own our 'strong side'.
I guess it all comes down to risk assessment. Is the risk of being found out greater or less than the risk of being passed over? Is there still a place for honesty in a world that is addicted to managed perceptions and self-deception?
Food for thought ....
