by Michael J. Menard, author of “The Kite That Couldn’t Fly“
In 1985, I was forty-four years old and the Director of Engineering at the Johnson & Johnson company in Skillman, New Jersey. Based on my position, I was offered wonderful opportunities for self-improvement and advanced training.
My boss was Dr. Phil Stevenson, who had white hair and a white mustache that he stroked when thinking. Dr. Stevenson was one of the original Johnson & Johnson gentlemen who built the corporation through the sixties and seventies. Dr. Stevenson was kind, gentle, and wise, much like King Solomon. He called me “young Michael.”
Dr. Stevenson was responsible for innovating and developing new products, and reporting to Dr. Stevenson was Dennis Holtman, Director of Research and Development. Dennis was the head of the department that brought new products to reality; I was the head of the department that designed and built the machinery and shipped those machines to factories around the Johnson & Johnson world. Dennis and I couldn’t get along; we had an open and long-standing feud that got in the way of getting things done. At the heart of the problem was my passion and talent for innovation. I would develop a product idea, file a patent application, and then hand the product idea to Dennis. Dennis believed it was his job to innovate new products and didn’t appreciate the head of engineering upstaging him. Getting my new products through the research and development process (called R&D for short) became agonizing.
Dr. Stevenson called Dennis and me to a late morning meeting. “Your childish backbiting is getting in the way of getting things done. I don’t care who is to blame; I say both of you might be wrong. Here’s twenty dollars. Please go to lunch, work it out, and then see me so you can tell me the war is over. If you can’t do that, I’ll fire both of you.”
We had a great lunch and an honest talk. We emptied our suitcases of shit on each other and agreed to be best friends. We walked into Dr. Stevenson’s office after lunch, holding hands. Dr. Stevenson broke out in the open mouth, panic-stricken laugh he was known for. It worked.
During my annual performance reviews, Dr. Stevenson heaped praise on me. “You are a superstar, young Michael. You make work disappear as soon as I give it to you.” He gave me the highest raise and bonus possible.
Yet one review wasn’t so enjoyable. “I need you to work on something for me. When you engage in a disagreement, I know that you are always right, and you know you are right, or you wouldn’t engage in the fight. You always win because you are always right. But winning isn’t enough for you; you aren’t happy until you destroy your opponent. It would be best if you stopped once you’ve won. Here is Gert’s phone number; she is a psychiatrist and trainer specializing in assertiveness training. She will teach you the difference between aggression and assertiveness; it will do wonders for your career.”
I met with Gert every Wednesday for six weeks in downtown Manhattan. Gert developed a series of workshops and lessons; it was an excellent experience. I graduated with honors; never again would I go for the jugular.
Gert reinforced what my dad had taught me when I was twelve, “When you are angry, you will flail and swing wildly. Your anger will blind you.” Gert taught me that calm in the storm is power and phrases like, “Be that as it may…” “Here’s how I feel when you say things like that…”
She videotaped us while we role-played. She gave me homework, I was engaged. I needed this training because it helped unknot my dad’s teachings. “In the fight, don’t stop until you are sure they won’t get back off the ground.”
Gert’s training and coaching made me an even stronger fighter; words replaced my fists.
Assertiveness training was the most impactful education of all the classes I took from Johnson & Johnson over my twenty-five-year career. Gert and I became great friends. I was so impressed with Gert and my newfound tools that I worked with her to develop a three-day class approved by the Johnson & Johnson University. This group organized adult learning classes on a wide variety of topics. I made the training mandatory for the 200 engineers in my department. Word spread, and the program became popular. Gert knew that women benefited more than men from the training, and she created a second course, Assertiveness Training for Women. The classes were taught onsite at the Johnson & Johnson headquarters twice a year. I had lunch with Gert whenever she was in town.
*excerpted from The Kite That Couldn’t Fly by Michael Menard
Michael J. Menard worked for Johnson & Johnson for thirty years. He is currently President of The GenSight Group, where has advised senior leadership at institutions such as the US Department of Energy, Pfizer, Coca Cola, NASA and the United Nations. He is also the author of two best-selling business books including “The Kite That Couldn’t Fly“.
