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In a 2019 Wisdom from the Top podcast interview, former CEO of Autodesk, Carl Bass, shared his renegade leadership strategy:
In challenging times, “you want to have conviction, but not certainty. You need to have a steady hand on the tiller, but you can’t go back and forth all the time.” “I thought of myself as the bus driver. If I try to avoid every pothole and everything in the road, everyone in the back of the bus will get pretty nauseous.” Carl joined Autodesk when it acquired his start-up in 1993. Shortly thereafter, CEO Carol Bartz identified Carl as her successor and mentored him to take the helm upon her retirement. During Carl’s tenure, he faced considerable challenges: a financial crisis, a recession, an activist investor, and the company’s new business model. Carl met each challenge with bold decision-making. He forged a path forward with no guarantee of success. “Conviction but not certainty” is clarity of purpose combined with a tolerance for ambiguity. Ambiguity is tough, however, especially for leaders who like to be in control! When the unknown feels too risky, they tend to gather more evidence, produce surveys, overanalyze data, and seek consensus. But people want to follow leaders who possess confidence, commit to some path, and are decisive. They don’t need a guarantee; they need vision in the midst of fog. They need leadership. Moving ahead without certainty is where significant progress occurs, ideas are born, and trust is built – in ourselves and each other. Agreeing to mentor is conviction without certainty. We invest in a mentee’s potential before they can show us results. Taking a new job is conviction without certainty. We invest our career in a new team with no assurance of success. Even getting married is conviction without certainty. We invest in a union with the promise of forever but not a warranty. Why? Because we believe in the possibility of the future. And that belief is louder than our fears. That belief emboldens us to improvise, innovate, iterate, and improve. Undeterred by the unknown, we navigate, adapt, and adjust, eager to discover and learn as we go. So, when we don’t take action, it’s not the guarantee we are missing. It’s the belief. And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~ Anais Nin © 2025. Ann Tardy and MentorLead. www.mentorlead.com. All Rights Reserved. |
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I have a Mentee who is struggling. And my urge to fix her situation caused me to break some cardinal rules of mentoring last week.
Our monthly conversation started strong: I re-established trust, and when she regaled me with the latest in her ongoing saga, I practiced loud listening. But suddenly, I heard the rescuer in me proclaiming, “You should…” “You must…” “Here’s what you need to do….” and “Go! Now!” And like an over-eager, compliant Mentee, she “Yes!”-ed me, agreeing to implement my advice immediately. I left the conversation feeling like a rockstar – I changed my Mentee’s life! I almost strained a muscle, patting myself on the back. So when I received a disappointing text from her a week later with a sheepish update replete with excuses and apologies, I realized what I had done – I had broken a few cardinal rules of mentoring:
Cardinal Rules 1. Water Don’t Weed. 2. Slow to Yes, Fast to Maybe. 3. Challenge Don’t Cheer. They don’t need cheerleading. They need a thought partner who helps them navigate their worries: “What is causing this concern? Is there another way to frame the situation? What can you do to mitigate it? Here’s what I’ve tried …” 4. Question Marks Before Periods. 5. Improv Not an Orchestra. Treat mentoring like an improv exercise, not an orchestra performance. Be present, agile, and accepting, with a splash of levity. © 2025. Ann Tardy and MentorLead. www.mentorlead.com. All Rights Reserved. |
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Comedian and author Chelsea Handler jammed her new book, I’ll Have What She’s Having, with her standard irreverent and derisive storytelling.
But in the middle, she takes a surprising pause to share a poignant, seminal mentoring moment with Jane Fonda. As Chelsea describes the encounter, Jane invited Chelsea for dinner: “I need to talk to you.” When they sat down to eat, Jane did not hesitate, “You might have noticed that I’ve been icy toward you since the fundraiser, and I want to tell you why.” “You behaved badly at my party. From the moment you came in, you had a black cloud hanging over you. You insulted people, and it brought the whole party down. A few people told me you were horrible to them.” “I don’t get it. Why did you even come if you were in that kind of mood?” [Genuinely confused and curious, Jane paused to allow Chelsea to engage and explain.] Chelsea met Jane’s candidness with humility. She revealed her recent journey into therapy to work on her deep anger. [Rather than defend her behavior, Chelsea leaned into Jane’s invitation, not with excuses but with vulnerability.] Encouraged, Jane responded, “Good. Your gifts are plentiful. Sometimes, people with the most gifts have the easiest time throwing them in the trash.” [Here, Jane disclosed the compelling reason she summoned Chelsea to dinner. And doing so validated Chelsea’s talent.] “Don’t be a product of your environment, Chelsea. Make your environment be a product of you.” [Like a female Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jane concluded with watershed wisdom.] It was risky. Without obligation, agenda, or permission, Jane confronted Chelsea despite the unpredictability of Chelsea’s reaction. Jane dared Chelsea to be better than her behavior. It was audacious. And Chelsea could have easily missed the moment. She could have avoided the altercation, accused Jane of offending her, justified her actions, and then unloaded it all on stage in a future comedy sketch disparaging Jane. Instead, she recognized Jane’s generosity, a raw display of humanity. Chelsea concluded, “Jane will never have to talk with me about my behavior again – that kind of honesty deserves action!” Audacious mentoring moments can be formative when our courage with each other meets our commitment to each other. © 2025. Ann Tardy and MentorLead. www.mentorlead.com. All Rights Reserved. |
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In his new memoir, Viewfinder, Jon M. Chu, the director of Crazy Rich Asians and Wicked, shares his journey from USC film school to the Oscars.
When Steven Spielberg discovered a short film Jon produced for school, he invited Jon to shadow him on a movie set for the day. Spielberg offered Jon this advice: “Be extraordinarily careful about choosing your first project – hold out until you find the one that means a lot, that would allow you to do your best work, that would define you for Hollywood.” Unfortunately, this moment with Jon’s idol was followed by a few promising projects that fizzled and a 5-year drought in which he didn’t work on any movies. So, when an opportunity to direct the sequel to So You Can Dance came to him, Jon considered it. But the studio offered it as a “direct-to-DVD” movie. In Jon’s words, “The lowest form of directing gig. I’m not that person. I can’t be that person!” Directing a direct-to-DVD sequel would be ignoring Spielberg’s mentoring. When he mentioned the offer to his mom and told her he would turn it down, she scoffed, “Since when did you become a snob?” She continued, “You’re a storyteller, right? You should be able to tell a story in any form – even a direct-to-DVD movie. So, go tell a story.” Whose advice should he follow: Steven Spielberg’s or his mom’s? Spielberg’s mentoring was substantial, but, as Jon reflected, it fed a self-image that became Jon’s anchor rather than a beacon. Conversely, his mom’s mentoring reminded Jon why he wanted to be a filmmaker. With renewed confidence, Jon chose to be a great storyteller. He proactively reconfigured the script for Step Up 2 to tell the story through street dancing. His pitch to Disney was so compelling that they changed it to a theatrical release. And just like that, Jon’s career launched. Having multiple mentors is valuable – they offer different perspectives and perceptions. But it’s imperative to be discerning when advice pours in, especially when recommendations diverge. Mentors are well-intended; however, context matters. Sometimes, the advice they offer is vacuum-sealed, while our situation never is. But mentors are never responsible for our success; they are simply responsive to us. It’s our job not to execute every morsel of mentoring but to unravel and decipher them. And then take action. Compile. Contemplate. Choose. © 2025. Ann Tardy and MentorLead. www.mentorlead.com. All Rights Reserved. P.S. Tired of looking for Flash! in your email? Follow me on LinkedIn and get notified each time I publish a new Flash! |
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During an interview a few years ago, actress Kristin Bell reflected:
“I am a person who likes advice. I love getting advice because I have enough self-esteem to acknowledge the advice but know that I don’t have to take it. No one’s watching me apply it.” “I want to know how you made your marriage work. I want to know how you performed better at an audition. I want to know how you parented your kids and got them to sleep better.” “And then, I can choose what to use.” Here’s where advice gets tangled:
According to research, 76% of people report feeling annoyed, defensive, and inadequate when people give them advice – even when it’s well-intended! When did our ego become the gatekeeper of wisdom? People all around us want to offer help. And they often do so without our permission – even “Have a nice day!” is unsolicited advice. But instead of leveraging our daily interactions to improve, we often opt to protect our pride. Instead of welcoming the possibility of gaining fresh ideas, insights, and interpretations, we contort around the fragility of our esteem. Kristin Bell’s approach is grounded in curiosity:
My husband is a prolific advice-giver. His prosocial behavior is triggered when he hears about someone’s problem, project, or purpose. He immediately thinks about who or what he knows – mentoring is his leadership language. And without asking permission, he contributes guidance and recommendations. Unfortunately, I’ve watched countless people miss it. They politely nod, uncurious, as he doles out invaluable connections and ideas. Sometimes, they get dismissive, even defensive. But occasionally, I’ll witness a savvy one who leans in, listens intently, and then does something brilliant… they ask a question. A question that helps them discern how the advice might better their life. And when they contemplate the potential of incoming wisdom, their confidence noticeably elevates. By adopting Kristin Bell’s drive to curate advice, transactions can become transformations. © 2025. Ann Tardy and MentorLead. www.mentorlead.com. All Rights Reserved. |
In 1973, Lorne Michaels had not yet created Saturday Night Live.
That was the year he was a fully bearded comedy writer, weighing a few different work opportunities, feeling desperate to take the one that paid the most.
And then comedian Lily Tomlin asked to meet – she had been following Lorne’s writing. They immediately bonded over their shared love of comedy, and she invited him to write for a television special she was producing.
In that same conversation…
Lily bluntly asked: “How long have you had that beard?”
Lorne: “Seven or eight months.”
Lily paused and reflectively shared: “When I want to hide, I just grow bangs.”
Her discernment surprised him – like she could see right through him.He shaved the next day and accepted her offer, even though it was a smaller project paying less money.
Why?
Lily didn’t give him unsolicited advice. Without judgment, she simply mirrored back to him what she saw.
She offered her perception by relating to it. In doing so, she accepted him. And because Lorne felt seen, he could metabolize her comment.
When I was graduating from law school in Chicago, I felt a bit like Lorne. Lost. Unclear which path to take next.
I was working at a small firm at the time when one of the partners casually inquired, “What are your plans after graduation?”
I awkwardly yet vulnerably admitted, “I have no idea. I only thought about getting to law school. I haven’t figured out what’s next.”
Then, without an agenda, he shrewdly shared one of his life-changing experiences: “The best thing I ever did was move away from home. I moved to Atlanta for a few years. Eventually, I moved back, but the experience changed my perspective.”
That was a seminal moment! The partner revealed a new option I had never considered: I could go somewhere else, take an adventure, and see the world differently. And so, I did. I moved to San Francisco to practice law.
Mentoring is not to be implemented; it’s to be interpreted. Lorne didn’t need to grow bangs to stop hiding, and I didn’t need to move to Atlanta to launch my career.
Astute mentoring starts with acceptance, adds perceptiveness, and culminates in an advice-teeming story.
Mentors influence us not by preaching “you should!” but by inviting us to see possibilities with “you could…”
© 2025. Ann Tardy and MentorLead. www.mentorlead.com. All Rights Reserved.
PS. Tired of looking for Flash! in your email? Follow me on LinkedIn and get notified when I publish a new Flash! each Thursday (except on major holidays!)
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/anntardy-mentorlead/
| Today marks the 10th year of my weekly Flash! articles. To celebrate, I’m re-releasing this article on goal streaking with a few updates and a fresh story. Thank you for your continued rooting and readership! _______________________________________ In the 1970s, an odd trend emerged on college campuses called “streaking,” where people ran naked through public areas to shock and amuse others. Then in 2011, the messaging app Snapchat repurposed the term “streak” to gamify the act of exchanging messages multiple days in a row. Snapchat refers to this uninterrupted chain as a “Snapstreak.” The app tracks these streaks and encourages users to continue their daily exchanges. And now there is a new kind of streaking: Goal Streaking – a continuous series of one activity in pursuit of a goal. Goal Steaking examples:
On January 1, 2019, Michigander Bugsy Sailor challenged himself to capture a photograph of the sunrise on Lake Superior every morning for one year. His goal? To connect with nature and be more present. His early morning ritual soon amassed a following in town and around the country. To date, hundreds of people have purchased pictures and/or pledged to watch more sunrises. Bugsy is now in his seventh year of photographing morning sunrises. He revealed recently, “How much joy everyone else gets from it has really kept me going the last couple of years.” Personally, I have two streaks that continue to impact my life: (1) My Flossing Streak (2) My Writing Streak I sent the very first Flash! article to 11 people, including my husband and my mom. Today, over 50,000 people receive it. When the Streak Goes on Strike Like Bugsy, my streak once went on strike as well. I missed publishing a Flash! article one week due to mismanaging my health and my time. I, too, was frustrated with myself, but instead of giving up, I recommitted to my goal… with a twist. I now incorporate scheduled writing breaks on major holiday weeks each year. Action! From the goalstreaks.com website: “The best way to achieve your goals is by taking regular, meaningful steps towards them.” Finding a mentor is a meaningful step. Mentors create what is known as “evaluation apprehension” – an aspirational form of peer pressure. Knowing someone we respect is rooting for us and regularly asking about our progress compels us to take action. In the world of goals, action is the game-changer. This past decade has taught me, however, that perfect action is not required, just continuously being in action. As long as we stay on the field, mentors (and mentees!) of all shapes and sizes will stand on the sidelines and fill the stadium. © 2025. Ann Tardy and MentorLead. www.mentorlead.com. All Rights Reserved. PS. Tired of looking for Flash! in your email? Follow me on LinkedIn and get notified when I publish a new Flash! each Thursday (except on major holidays!) |
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At the end of every mentoring program, at least one mentor confesses, “I think I got more out of the mentoring relationship than my mentee.”
For years, I attributed this to altruism – the selfless, feels-good-to-do-good approach. And then I read Ethan Kross’ compelling book Chatter – The Voice in Our Head, Why It Matters, and How to Harness It. In his book, psychologist and professor Dr. Kross shares a tool called “distancing” that can lead us to wisdom, regardless of age, job title, or experience. Psychological distancing involves stepping back, lowering our emotional intensity, and reducing our cognitive load to gain objectivity and perspective. In other words, we turn down the volume of the internal chatter by figuratively stepping away from it. Distancing is most effective when we (1) imagine how we will feel about this situation in the future, (2) observe our situation happening to someone else, or (3) offer advice to someone in a similar situation. We often struggle to solve our own problems because we are too emotionally involved. When our view is only internal, our problems can feel insurmountable. Psychological distance not only diminishes our stress and anxiety, but it also gives us the detached perspective needed to reassess our problems. When we step into the role of mentor, we psychologically distance ourselves from our circumstances by focusing on our mentee’s circumstances. As our mentee is sorting through their problems and navigating their situations, they seek our guidance, advice, and perspectives. We are called to step away from our uncertainty to help them with theirs. Ironically, while we might struggle to solve our own problems, we often have clarity and advice for people grappling with similar challenges. Their emotional burdens don’t afflict us. The birds-eye view allows us to see solutions we missed when our view was purely internal. When we offer those solutions to our mentee through advice, we finally see the wisdom that applies to our situation. The adage, “Those who can’t, teach” should be followed by “…so they can.” We might not have been able to sort it out for ourselves, but then we became a mentor and helped a mentee sort it out, and doing so gave us the distance and clarity we needed to sort it out for ourselves. Now when a mentor claims, “I got more out of this than my mentee,” I will nod appreciatively to psychological distancing and affirm, “Of course, you did!” © 2025. Ann Tardy and MentorLead. www.mentorlead.com. All Rights Reserved. |