Once a manager, you’ll never be the same person again, says Hans Odenthal.
In my career as a people manager and coach, I had the privilege of guiding many young talents into becoming managers. It starts with the responsibility of teaching them the more practical aspects of the work. But the most important aspect has been to guide them through the process of realizing what it truly means to be a manager. Giving a person a different position doesn’t automatically mean that they’re aware of the change. In terms of job title, sure, but not in behavior or feelings. The reason: there’s a big difference between knowing and realizing.
Knowing is the rational part, being cognitively aware. As a new manager, you understand that your job title and task list have changed and you know what to do. You can read the description of your new role and you grasp what it’s all about. However, knowing often doesn’t lead to the necessary behavioral changes. Realizing is the deeper version of knowing. It mostly comes from personal experiences and leads to changes in behavior. Realization means that you incorporate the information with a meaningful impact on your thoughts, feelings and actions.
I see a parallel with young parents. When the baby is born, you know that it’s your child. You know that you need to feed the newborn, that you must change diapers, and so on. But the full awareness of what it really means to be a parent takes some time. There’s that one moment where you feel the connection and realize: this is forever.
The same feeling occurs when you realize that you’re a manager. This is a process of weeks, months or sometimes even years. The transition is fed with moments of surprise, like that morning when you arrive at the coffee machine and your team suddenly switches to a completely different subject.
If somebody hasn’t reached the realizing phase, there’s a risk of role confusion. For example, a team member complains about some organizational issue. The manager responds by agreeing with the complaint, maybe because he’s experienced the same problem. At first, the team member may be pleased that the manager concurs. But is this really the desired response? On second thought, the team member will probably think: “Hey, you’re a manager. Do something about it.” That’s why it’s important to realize that your words as a manager carry a different weight.
This applies to those growing into the new position. What if you are, as I often was, responsible for the new manager? Is it possible to speed up the realization process?
The answer is: yes, to some extent. We can inform the new manager about the transition that needs to take place and that it will take some time. But be aware that this process also takes place at a meta-level. The manager-to-be might know it takes time but probably hasn’t realized it yet. With a bit of luck, they’re at least “consciously incompetent,” following the ideas of Noel Burch’s Conscious Competence Matrix.
We can recognize that someone isn’t yet consciously incompetent by statements like “I might be a manager now but don’t worry, I’m still the same person.” Although the intention of such a statement is understandable, you just can’t stay the same old person when you become a manager. It’s simply impossible. You have other responsibilities. Responsibilities that you can’t put away for two hours or even during holidays; you’ll still feel them. You can’t hit the power-off button. Try telling a parent (even when the kids are staying with friends) that they don’t need to be a parent anymore. You can’t. Once a parent, you can’t unparent. The same goes for being a manager.
Organizations are too focused on guidance at the task level for young managers. There should be more room for helping them learn what it truly means to have those responsibilities. Guiding them from ‘knowing’ to ‘realizing.’ Setting up intervision sessions with peers is a great way to do this. It’s best to let them explain themselves where they are in the realization phase and experience the aha moment together.
If you’re reading this and recognize it all, you’ve successfully transitioned. If not, please read this column again next year.
