Naked Truth #2 Business is personal.
To write this book I interviewed dozens of women who’d reached CEO positions and two at the C-level (Chief, reporting to the CEO) in major companies. All achieved success in the business world almost unknown to previous generations. Each one cited romance, family, and relationship milestones alongside education, achievement, and finances. Read Jack Welch’s autobiography Straight from the Gut if you harbor the illusion that men see the world similarly. His marriages get a few non-reflective lines each and his philandering (which had to have affected business) none at all. Perhaps his follow-up, written with the woman who broke up his second marriage and dramatically affected his departure from GE, will address the personal/business intersection. It’s possible to learn from mistakes, but only if you cop to them. The women I interviewed eagerly recounted mistakes along with triumphs. I’ve tried to do the same.
There are two types of business books for women. (Reminds me of a friend’s comment: “There are two types of people in the world: those who believe there are two types of people and those who don’t.”) The first type of book advises you to try to be like a man to succeed, which includes keeping your emotions out of the workplace. This book is the second type, which avers that a healthy leader recognizes, and responds to, the emotions involved in decision-making and business relationships. Pretending to see logic in your boss’s petulant behavior when you pay attention to his business rival doesn’t make it go away. Realizing that he is behaving like your high school boyfriend—and treating him accordingly—just might.
Naked Truth #62 Send thank-you notes (can be email for little kindnesses) and condolence notes (always handwritten).
My mistakes in the manners area nag at me because they are so avoidable. An early introduction to serving on a board of directors began with a mistake. While I ran Sunset, a man identifying himself as the founder of The Territory Ahead catalog asked me for a meeting. Thinking he was a potential advertiser, I agreed. We had a very pleasant conversation, and then he told me the real reason for the visit: Dick Munro, former Time Inc. Chairman, had recommended me as a board member who could help in his dealings with his partner Lands’ End, a much larger firm, based on my success doing that with Time. Though I was attracted to this opportunity, the company–of which I am still a happy customer–was based in Santa Barbara, and I couldn’t bear the idea of the prop-jet I would need to fly on to attend meetings. I declined the invitation. The mistake was that I never wrote to Dick Munro to thank him for the flattering thought; not only was it bad manners, it was bad business. Needless to say, he never referred another board opportunity to me, and I don’t blame him. Dick, if you are reading this, please forgive my slip. All board opportunities are welcome.
Naked Truth #50 Given one candidate with perfect qualifications and one for whom the position would be a stretch, if the latter seems more excited about the opportunity, choose him/her.
It amazes me how people who should know better, fail to consider the candidate’s motivations in wanting the job. The motivation of the candidate trumps her qualifications, at least for most jobs. This often means hiring someone who has never had that level of responsibility before, rather than the person who’s got all the requisite experience and nothing left to prove.
Dianne Snedaker comments, “You can learn a skill, but you need to start with enthusiasm, excitement, curiosity. Too much of work takes the attitude out of us. You have to start with a great attitude.” One of the best receptionists I ever hired was at Mother Jones, and I found her through a state employment program for recovering addicts. Eleanor [not her real name] was from a well-to-do family, but her heroin habit had led to a resume that mainly featured exotic dancing. Okay, stripping. Eleanor explained that a structured job like we were offering would help her stay straight, and I decided that it didn’t take much experience to be a good receptionist. The consequences for Eleanor if she failed in the job were surely greater than for most of the other applicants, so I decided to take the chance. She was grateful for the chance to prove herself and was a terrific receptionist and delightful presence in the office.
Despite that example, don’t mistake a candidate who needs a job for one who wants it. Your responsibility is to employ the right person, not the neediest one.
Naked Truth #28 You can learn the most from anti-mentors, whose bad behavior you vow never to emulate.
When women ask me to mentor them, I have to say I find it a false process when done deliberately, with aforethought. The most valuable lessons I have learned came from observing behavior in the office, and vowing to do things differently when I got a chance.
My best mentors have been antimentors, the men whose behavior taught me what not to do. They may be anti-\mentors, but I am not antimen. Some of my best friends, and everyone I have ever slept with, are men. I’m sure it’s coincidental that the worst people I’ve experienced in business are men too.
Here are some of the bad boys who taught me so much.
Chris Meigher had been the executive at Time Inc. whose cool, smart questions convinced me in our first meeting that the publishing company was the right partner for the launch of Parenting. He was my partner in the joint venture, and became my boss upon the sale. The years of partnership had forced me to be more independent than would have been my nature, as Chris quickly made it clear that he didn’t want to hear any bad news—I was on my own to figure it out. As a boss, he showed traits that I became resolved to never emulate:
Naked Truth #64 Get ready for people to act weirdly, it comes with the pregnancy territory.
Most pregnant women can share stories about odd behavior—the stranger on a bus rubbing your belly, unsolicited advice on your meal. It’s as if your changing profile throws off others’ sense of boundaries, and this can be especially off-putting in the office. While men have mainly learned how to work with us breast-featuring creatures, our pregnant bellies can throw them for a loop. It’s an opportunity for breaking down boundaries, for better or worse, as your female status becomes impossible for them to ignore. Female bosses are trickier: The childless ones are usually very self-conscious and hide any negative reactions; the mothers expect your pregnancy to be just like theirs but are generally sympathetic.
I was Time Warner’s first pregnant divisional CEO, and no one quite knew how to react.
Jerry Levin’s reaction discomfited other people, but I loved it. I happened to be in New York for our mutual birthday, and dropped off an armful of flowers at his newish Rockefeller Center digs. He was out that day–at a Mets game with his son–but the next day his assistant tracked me down and asked me to drop by whenever I had a chance. Even though it was interrupting a closed-door meeting with several people I didn’t know, she ushered me in. Jerry said “I just wanted to rub your belly,” which he proceeded to do before showering me with Bugs Bunnies and other Time Warner tchotzkes for the baby and me. I was giddy with the feeling that I really could be a pregnant CEO. No problem.
Naked Truth #14 If you’re not over your head with a new job, you haven’t moved far enough.
I was clueless as to what an associate editor did. The art department would inform me that captions had to be exactly equal in length (for graphic balance) and I didn’t know enough to say that was ridiculous, so I made them equal even if it took all night. The management would insist that we use the backlog of terrible manuscripts, so I rewrote and re-edited out-of-date interviews with directors of movies that had long since left theaters. I compensated for lack of knowledge by working around the clock. This was easy: I had no social life, or money to do much, and my waist-length hair and clogs, which had worked in Ithaca, were less successful in Manhattan. I got some well-meaning help from the male editors of Penthouse, most of whom I had worked for. It was the first example of something that happened over and over in my career: because I work hard and am nice to people, they help me out. I also learned that I thrive on public recognition—it’s embarrassing to admit it, but perhaps not as embarrassing as being motivated by money or competitive fervor; I like seeing my name in print.
People respond differently to the feeling of being over their heads with new responsibilities. My friend Carol panics that she will be fired, and the thought of being fired never crosses my mind (even when it’s about to happen). But we are similar in that we both grasp desperately at lifelines: working around the clock, calling on friends and vendors for advice and assistance, and being determined to beat the odds.
I’ll make a gross gender generalization. Men don’t like to admit they have lost control (e.g., asking for directions), so they enter new jobs with sublime self-confidence; their powers of denial are impressive. Women measure themselves against impossible standards–the perfect resume–so often are in new jobs feeling unprepared. Don’t worry about asking for directions. Whoever gave you the opportunity for a new job wants you to succeed, not fail. Be sure you know your boss’s expectations for success. Ease up on your personal benchmarking for a short time, and go into learning mode for your honeymoon period. Maybe even read a business book.

Naked in the Boardroom: A CEO Bares Her Secrets So That You Can Transform Your Career
by Robin Wolaner
Fireside - March 2005
208 Pages - ISBN 0743262271
Out friend Tom introduced us to Robin (you'll find his name in the acknowledgements). We like her and the book. This from the back cover:
Legendary media executive Robin Wolaner delivers exactly what today's time-strapped businesswomen need - quick takeaway advice on developing presence, seizing power, and achieving success without relinquishing their personal uniquely feminine qualities.