Just as my 5-year old exits her Dora the Explorer phase (to replace it with “Let it go! Let it gooooo!”), my 2-year old enters hers with the force of a thousand purple monkeys. So, look, I read a lot of Dora books these days. Recently Penny the Pony’s Big Race has been quite the hit. It’s about Dora trying to get her horse to… wait, who am I kidding. I’m sure you care about the plot as much as I do.

Anyway, there’s one part of the story that irritates me way above my average annoyance levels with these books (which is already quite high). Dora, Boots, and Penny are trying to cross a mud pit, but Penny is a bit scared. This is where we pick up the narrative:

Let’s reflect on this for a moment. Penny is scared of jumping across the logs, because she thinks she might slip and fall into the mud. Dora’s proposed solution is infuriating:

Uh-oh! Penny is afraid that the logs might be slippery. Let’s count the logs as she walks across so she won’t be worried.

How is that a good solution? There are a number of things you could do to solve Penny’s fear of the slippery logs. They could walk around the mud pit. They could make sure the logs are more secure. They could give Penny special horse-shoes that increase friction. Look, I don’t know, I’m not an expert at horses jumping over logs, but I’m sure there are people who are, and who could come up with a good solution for the problem. Counting the logs to distract Penny is a pretty superficial and condescending approach to address this particular problem.

The thing is, this is all too often how managers operate in the context of their teams. Oh, you’re unhappy with the culture of the company? Let’s throw a company BBQ. On a Sunday afternoon. You’re concerned that the product development process is not optimal? Let’s hire another development manager. Instead of spending time to understand the cause of the anxiety communicated by team members, managers often rely on distraction or easy answers that give the illusion of a solution, but is nothing more than a way to check a box to say that they “did something.”

I read two really good management articles recently that are relevant here. The first is Gregg Satell’s What To Do While You’re Waiting For Steve Jobs (beware, that’s a Forbes link, so you’re going to have to do a lot of clicking around to dismiss all the things that try to distract you from reading it). He says this about treating people with respect:

If you expect your employees to be motivated to do their jobs well, you’d better treat them with dignity. Leadership is not the art of getting people to do what you want, but inspiring them to want what you want.[…] While many leaders believe that they can bend the organization to their will, that’s rarely true.  Being a jerk doesn’t make you Steve Jobs, it just makes you a jerk.

The second is Lindsay Holmwood’s It’s not a promotion — it’s a career change. It’s a great post and you should read the whole thing, but I want to quote most of the opening in full, because it’s great:

Your job is not to be an engineer. Your job is not to be a manager. Your job is to be a multiplier.

You exist to remove roadblocks and eliminate interruptions for the people you work with.
You exist to listen to people (not just hear them!), to build relationships and trust, to deliver bad news, to resolve conflict in a just way.

You exist to think about the bigger picture, ask provoking and sometimes difficult questions, and relate the big picture back to something meaningful, tangible, and actionable to the team.

You exist to advocate for the team, to promote the group and individual achievements, to gaze into unconstructive criticism and see underlying motivations, and sometimes even give up control and make sacrifices you are uncomfortable or disagree with.

You exist to make systemic improvements with the help of the people you work with.

If I could summarize the advice in these articles, and what I’ve personally experienced about good managers vs. bad managers, I’d say this. If someone on your team complains that they’re worried about slippery logs across a mud pit, don’t tell them you’ll count loudly as they jump to distract them from the fear. Instead, take the time to understand the cause of their fear, and help them solve the real problem behind that fear.

In other words, don’t be like Dora. She’s a terrible manager.