The Art of Quiet Influence is my bestselling book by far. Why? Mainly because it’s distributed by Hachette, one of the so-called Big Five publishers, whose channel muscle is Schwarzenegger-esque. But distribution isn’t everything: The Greats on Leadership is also published by Hachette, yet it has only one-third of the sales of Quiet Influence.
My parents had a long career in the US Foreign Service. A big part of diplomatic life is parties—dinner parties, cocktail parties, pool parties, all kinds of parties—which sounds like great fun, until you consider that every such event is non-optional.
At any rate, my parents knew parties. And here’s their advice:
Always leave a party while it’s still fun.
Whenever I’ve followed this advice, I’ve not regretted it. Many a night, having exited the college beer-fest or post-dinner corporate revelries, walking down silent corridors back to my dorm or hotel room, I’ve been seized with fear of missing out. Why did I leave so soon?
But next morning, I would hear about the person who’d passed out next to the trash cans or the two colleagues who’d had a bitter argument, or (most typically) I’d ask someone with a wan face how the rest of the evening had turned out and get, “Oh … we had a few more drinks. That’s about it.” And I would be glad I’d left when I did.
Failing to follow the advice, on the other hand, has led to disappointment, even disaster. Over the years, I’ve learned to apply it to more than parties; it also works for jobs and other endeavors. In professional contexts, one might change “while it’s still fun” to “while you can still make a difference,” but the principle is the same: Go out on a high note—or at least before they start vacuuming the carpets.
I’ve learned, as well, that it’s not just the timing that’s important, but the manner. On January 30, 2013, I walked away from The Forum Corporation. Although the when wasn’t too bad, I certainly could have improved on the how.
For two years, we’d had a series of leaders whose values clashed with mine and with the longtime ethos of the firm. I and others made attempts to lean in and to keep the party going, but by November 2012, I could see it was the wrong side of midnight and time to bow out. My best friend had been quicker on the uptake than I; she had made her exit, with grace, twelve months earlier. I wanted to leave well, too, so I called the head of the company where she was working now—he was another Forum alum—to get his advice.
“I need a bit of a runway, so I’m planning to leave in May,” I told him.
“I wouldn’t wait that long,” he said, “but if you must, here’s the thing. Now that you’ve made the decision, you’ll be tempted to signal that you’re out of there. You’ll want to play the rebel or the savior.
I wish I’d listened to him. In mid-January, after several instances of doing exactly what he had advised me not to do, I received a written reprimand. My boss had set up a call for the following week; I assumed he intended more scolding, and I’d had enough, so I got my ducks in a row and wrote a resignation letter offering to stay on for a month to ensure a smooth transition. I emailed the letter at 7 a.m. the day of the scheduled call. He emailed back asking me to dial in at 9, which I did, expecting a reasonably cordial conversation. Instead, I found myself on the line with him, his boss, and the firm’s attorney. The attorney thanked me for my letter. She explained that as of right now my services would no longer be required, and that this call’s purpose all along had been to terminate my employment due to “clear insubordination.” I sat with an open mouth as she issued instructions for returning company property.
Today, after seeing changes for the better in the firm’s leadership and having been invited back for a spell as an independent contractor, I find it amusing to regale friends with the tale of Insubordinate Me. I always get high-fives. The fallout at the time, however, really wasn’t amusing, especially when it continued falling on me and others for months thereafter. If the final test of influence is the timing and grace of one’s exit, I failed most of the test …
The Art of Quiet Influence (John Murray Business, a Hachette company, 2019) is available in paperback, audio, and e-book and is available wherever books are sold.