Madison, Wisconsin

In my experience, people are happy, energized and productive at work when they:

• know what will count - and be rewarded - as success
• spend their time doing things that obviously matter
• do work that capitalizes on their strengths, and
• work in an environment that encourages and rewards straight talk

No surprises there, right? If that’s so obvious, how come companies aren’t set up that way? Why does study after study continue to indicate that people hate to get up and go to work? Most of us are not even close to content, let alone happy, energized and productive. Why not?

I think it’s primarily because work usually lacks compelling meaning and, despite all our protestations to the contrary, we crave compelling meaning in everything we do. We are not robots, after all, so why would we be satisfied to spend the bulk of our waking hours doing something that doesn’t seem to matter much one way or the other?

Whether your perspective is a senior manager’s or a non-supervisory worker’s or anyone’s in between, you’re probably thinking right about now: "Happy, energized and productive? Sure, it would be great, but there are too many different kinds of people and one size doesn’t fit all and, really, our company doesn’t produce anything earth-shattering, we just make widgets, and the widget-making and number-crunching and mail delivery, etc., etc., etc. all have to get done and there isn’t enough time to insist on meaning or happiness. Who is this woman kidding?"

Also, no matter who you are (unless you used to work with me), you’re wondering why this essay is entitled "Madison, Wisconsin." Here's why.

I have always been struck by how willing most people are to plow ahead without first articulating (1) where they’re headed and (2) why it’s important for them to get there. The more people I became responsible for as a leader and manager, the more I noticed this and the more it looked like the root cause of employee dissatisfaction.

Driving from Chicago to Madison, Wisconsin one day to visit my sister and her family, my own kids asleep in the back, I realized that a car trip was a perfect analogy for illustrating – and, I hoped, solving – this problem. Thus, my "Madison, Wisconsin" allegory was born and it has served me well (not unlike the real place, which is also quite nice).

Here’s how it goes.

If you'd like to read the rest of this essay, please click here to send me a request and I will happily send it to you. (Please include the name of the essay in your request.) There's no charge; I just want to keep track for copyright purposes of who has the essay.