What is it about the principles of effective delegating that eludes even the smartest leaders? Twice last week, I got tangled in the barbed wire of poorly delegated tasks. One of my assigned tasks carried with it a critical time element I discovered 12 minutes before the deadline. Another came with an added bonus of being politically charged enough to trigger a blow-my-hair-back email bomb.
While recovering from these unpleasant surprises, I recalled the respective "moments of delegation." They went something like this.
Tangled Mess #1:
Ineffective Delegator (ID): When you get a chance, can you find out if the research tool we're considering can handle anonymous responses?
Me: Sure, no problem. I'm happy to help. [Okay, that might be an embellishment. But I was amenable.] When do you need the answer?
ID: Whenever. No rush.
Me, to myself (after being informed in a big meeting by ID that not having the answer is blocking a purchase decision): Thanks for throwing me under the bus!
Tangled Mess #2:
ID: Since you're so good at getting people to share ideas, maybe you can help me get the new industry design project unstuck.
Me: Sure, how can I help?
ID: Oh, I don't know. Maybe you could send out one of your convincing emails?
Me: No problem. [Imagine dialog that ensued about subject, desired outcomes, recipients.] Is there anything else you can think of that might come up when I send the email?
ID: Nothing comes to mind.
Me, to myself (after the email bomb in which I was accused of overstepping and stirring up trouble): How could the other strong-willed leader who also thinks he owns the initiative not come to mind?
To all the IDs out there, please know we actually are happy to help. In fact, we sometimes (and secretly) like being told what to do because it takes cognitive load off our shoulders. However, like most everyone else, we don't like negative surprises. Even if it's unpleasant, we'd rather know up front than after-the-nasty-fact.
Franny Fried