Fortunately for mankind, we all have our own unique, distinct personality and character. Without attempting to split psychological hairs, let us stipulate that for all intents and practical purposes, we cannot change how we are, i.e., our personality or our character, as these relate to our professional surroundings. While we may seem like a totally different person at home compared to how we seem at work, these differences are attributable to behavior, and not to personality or character.
To illustrate this, take the story of a certain product manager. In the office, she is an apparently relaxed, highly competent individual. She is thoughtful, bright, listens well, accepts different viewpoints as constructive input, and gives her frequent presentations in a passionate, convincing manner. She does her homework thoroughly and is always well prepared. She is serious, mature, and knowledgeable, and also has a good sense of humor. She is both respected and liked throughout the company, and seen as someone to keep an eye on for future career development.
In her private life, she is the single mother of two children, ages eight and ten, and at home she behaves quite differently. Instead of trying to build consensus, of being very patient and seemingly unflappable in the face of myriad problems, she is short-tempered, bears no nonsense, and manages her home and her children dictatorially. She has no time for anything else.
If her children would not recognize their mother in her working environment, so her colleagues from the office would not recognize her at home. Not because she has two personalities, but because circumstances force her to exhibit two very different behavioral patterns.
Does this seem strange? It should not, because both of these divergent behaviors are appropriate when seen in the right context.
As part of our unique individualism, we all have faults—perceived or real. We have weaknesses we wish we did not have. Perhaps traits or characteristics we would like to change if we could. Some of us agonize more over these shortcomings than do others. Some, we may have discovered in ourselves; others may have been brought to our attention by family members or friends, or by teachers or supervisors. However we learned of them, chances are good that we did not like to be confronted with these flaws, and that is why we probably look with envy at those individuals who do not show such weaknesses.
Some of us may shrug our shoulders, accept our shortcomings as unchangeable, and get on with our lives. Others may turn into ostriches—bury their heads in the sand and pretend the problems are not there. Either approach will work, up to a point, as long as our supervisor in the company, our peers, colleagues, and subordinates, and all the others we must work and get along with are willing to accept our flaws at face value and these do not interfere with accomplishing what we set out to do.
Regrettable as it is, shortcomings in others are often more noticeable than the positive things, and one flaw may hurt us more than ten positive attributes may help us. Perhaps people are more eager to identify our faults because they believe that by pointing them out, they will look better themselves. Additionally, too many people find a perverse sort of pleasure in finding faults in others, as illustrated in a recent newspaper:
IF YOU FIND A TYPOGRAPHICAL ERROR, PLEASE REMEMBER THAT THIS WAS INSERTED ON PURPOSE. OUR NEWSPAPER PRIDES ITSELF ON HAVING SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE, INCLUDING THOSE WHO ARE ALWAYS LOOKING ONLY FOR ERRORS.
Since we already stipulated that we cannot change our personality or character traits, what then can we do to prevent being harmed professionally by them? The answer lies in changing our behavior, because that is something we can do. Not that it is easy. Behavior is a habit, and as with all habits, it is hard to break. It requires strength, willpower, concentration, determination, conscious ongoing effort, practice, and diligence.
Personality versus behavior are comparable to intelligence versus smartness: You cannot make yourself more intelligent than you are, but you can learn and you can—almost certainly—become smarter. Superior intelligence in and of itself is not going to make you a better manager, but how smartly you use your intelligence definitely will. Not to deliberately pick on anyone, but the brilliant scientist comes to mind who is a giant in his area of expertise, yet incapable of managing even a small group of people. You can learn to be smart, because that is related to behavior. You cannot learn to be more intelligent, however, as measured by your I.Q.
The basis of changing our behavior rests on two key elements: