Executive Letter #14: Mistakes Make the (Business)Man

Today, I want to talk about finding opportunity, particularly the opportunity to develop talent.

Not everyone sees those everyday, essential opportunities. Not everyone can see raw talent and the potential underneath a rough exterior. But there are plenty of people who make a pretty penny convincing people otherwise.

Just think of how many books, webinars, and courses have been sold with the promise of transforming a beginner into an overnight success. All they need is to follow the steps, invest here, buy this—for four payments of $49.99.

I don’t want to knock all of the advice available that way. My library is stocked with the wisdom of entrepreneurs and leaders who’ve gone before me. Heck, even my son Chris has bought his fair share of infomercial lifehacks, and it turned out all right for him! You can’t deny, however, that the business how-to market is full of people who don't actually have any experience running a business.

You won’t just find them on late night TV, either. They’re in college classrooms, even MBA classrooms, selling ideas based on very little hands-on experience. The students who come out on the other side, thousands of dollars in debt, are lulled into a sense of confidence, thinking their new degree will guide them straight to success.

Little do they know, they’re missing something that true business tycoons value above all else: rough starts, mistakes, hardships, experience.

The School of Hard Knocks

I’ve told you before, I don’t have a Harvard MBA. I don’t even have a college degree.

I hated school when I was growing up, wishing every second I was in Chemistry or Spanish that I was back at work.

I got my first job at fourteen, working at a cleaners near my house. When I was fifteen, I got an after-school job at a supermarket further up the road.

As the oldest of five kids, I used any excuse I could get to earn a few more cents, especially if it kept me from all the noise of my younger siblings back home! The only downside was that, since I was underage, I could only work up to 18 hours a week. That didn’t stop me from working more, often for free.

When a new grocery store, Minyard Food Stores, opened across the street, offering 25 cents more an hour I was warned not to work for them.

“They won’t last,” my current employers said.

Regardless, I went. So did a few of the managers I’d previously worked under. We were early converts of what Minyards offered: excellence.

It was there that I began working under a manager by the name of Andy Prikryl, and I began to have my hard-headedness knocked out of me. Andy was a perfectionist. He wouldn’t stop until the store literally shined. Though Andy was only a few years older than me, he taught me a level of excellence that has stayed with me through decades in business.

Working for Andy set me on a path that took me from having the keys to the store at eighteen years old, to managing the largest supermarket in Minyards history less than four years later. That’s how I know that Andy was the real deal: someone who cared about me, didn’t let me off easy, and knew how to develop my potential.

I owe a lot to Andy, but that didn’t stop me from being a know-it-all when I started managing my own store. I had the biggest store, the most employees, and the highest profits. I thought I had it all.

That is, until the higher ups told me they had no intention of promoting me any further.

The Harder They Fall

In my estimation, I deserved a job at the district level. Sure, I hadn’t won many friends. I’d almost gotten fired a time or two. I hadn’t even won manager of the year, for whatever reason! Even so, I had the numbers to show for myself. Why not give me a shot?

They gave it to me straight. I was immature. I could be a hard ass. People didn’t like working for me. If they put me over twelve stores rather than one, wouldn’t they be multiplying the problem by twelve?

That was a bitter pill to swallow. Fortunately, they had some practical advice that helped me turn myself around.

First, they told me to set aside a few hours a week to sit in the deli section of the store and not work. Sit, relax, and listen to my team members. Get to know the people around me. Get it in my head that this wasn’t a one-man show.

Second, send me to a professional. No, not a shrink. A business professional, specifically Dale Carnegie.

At that time, and still to this day, Dale Carnegie trainings based on How to Win Friends and Influence People and other core business tenets were offered across the country. My company sent me to take the course. Twice.

It took a few years but, between these two “prescriptions,” I was a changed man. Before, I would regularly work 72-hours straight. I put my business goals above the people in my life, both personally and professionally. I cared more about the end goal than how I got there—I clearly had a lot to learn.

I came to understand that it doesn’t matter how many hours you work. It matters how many people like working for you.

That doesn’t mean you should manage only to make people happy. It means you can’t take your team members for granted, and why I've stopped calling them "employees."  That’s why, when I say “There’s no I in TEAM” or “Build Your Business to Change People’s Lives,” it’s a lesson hard earned.

I hope it will help you as much as it’s helped me.

Commit to The Grind

I was inspired to write this letter to you based on something Elon Musk has talked about repeatedly in his interviews: raw talent.

Elon shares my opinion that college isn’t always the best route to success, and we shouldn’t measure potential by GPA or extracurricular commitments.

Look at me. I didn’t take a math class past the eighth grade. Do you think I let it stop me from leading billion dollar companies? Nope! Now, I understand college is needed for some specific professions, trades, and skills. It's also a time many need to mature and figure out what they want to do in life. I'm just saying it isn't needed for everyone, so don't let it stop you.

Talent is an endlessly valuable resource. My advice is to treat it as such, both in yourself and in those you lead. Take the time to develop that talent. Learn the hard lessons. Don’t try to take shortcuts, thinking you can bypass the hard part.

Experience and mistakes matter. Let them be your #1 teacher.

Until next time,

Kent Clothier
Chief Grind Officer