Robert Sutton wrote one of the more important business books I’ve ever read: “The No Asshole Rule”.
Yes. That’s the title, and while I’m probably pushing the bounds of good taste here, Sutton
successfully lobbied the Wall Street Journal to use that very term so I’m hoping that will serve
as satisfactory precedent for my editors here at Barrett Sports Media.
Sutton went so far as to define the term as “a person who leaves another person feeling
oppressed, humiliated, de-energized, or belittled”. He then set about proving these individuals
were toxic to an organization, sapping productivity and driving out competent co-workers. His
underlying message was two-fold:
1) You should avoid working for orifices;
2) Any company employing an orifice should seek to expel him or her from the
organization.
It’s a really good book, but it’s of limited use if you don’t control who you’re working with.
What do you do when you’re partnered with an orifice?
Now, I happen to have given this matter quite a bit of thought over the five years I was part of a three-man show that included one of the funniest, most offbeat, and occasionally frustrating
people I’ve ever encountered. He was a crucial component to the success of our afternoon
drive show and every so often would do something that would understandably enrage
someone he was working with. I’m not going to specify who this was because I do like Jim Moore and don’t want to hurt his feelings, but he was the ultimate wild card who made tons of people laugh and more than a few snarls.
He liked to reveal the inner workings of the show whether it was a planning meeting or
something that occurred off-air. He referred to this as “pulling back the curtain.”
After I stumbled over my words, he looked at me and said, “You’re absolutely brutal.” It was
hilarious, and we played it for years as a drop.
Amid a segment in which we were discussing something about Richard Sherman, he
declared that I was sounding like a typical talk radio host trying to make something out of
nothing. I laughed at that, too.
A few weeks later, as we discussed the weekend series in which Seattle became overrun with
Blue Jays fans coming down from Canada, he criticized something I’d written for lacking
objectivity and declared the whole segment dumb. I was furious, and while I did my
best to hide my anger during the rest of the segment, we shouted profanities at each other
during the break and I didn’t speak to him outside of our time on the air for the rest of the
week.
Meetings ensued. Apologies were made by both of us. My point here is not to re-litigate what
happened or try to justify the anger I felt at the time. I was overly sensitive to a pretty harmless critique. I was also fed up with someone who consistently did things that made me feel belittled and de-energized. He was acting more like a heckler than a co-host, and this posed a specific challenge for me because I was leading the show.
I was not alone in that regard. He’d anger other co-workers, too, and many of the players and
even teams that we talked about whether it was Richard Sherman threatening to have his press
credential pulled, Michael Bennett, saying he should be “fired and suspended” among many
other profane observations after a particular column. Hell, Gary Payton stood up ready to fight
him before a playoff game in 1996 after an interview that started with a question about Payton
getting IV fluids after the previous game in the series.
It strikes me there are two explanations for all of this: 1) Everyone is way too sensitive to what
are totally understandable and even innocuous barbs from an irreverent personality. 2) This
personality has a way of annoying and antagonizing those he’s around, and while this makes
him incredibly entertaining, it can make a sustained working relationship difficult. To put it in
in Sutton’s terms, this particular person had a habit of leaving others feeling oppressed, humiliated, de-energized, or belittled.
With that in mind and based on personal experience, here’s my guide if you find yourself
working with an orifice:
I. Accept them for what they are
I stopped wishing my co-host was anything other than what he was. This was entirely personal
and had nothing to do with my co-host or the people who supervised him. I accepted that he was a remarkably funny and unique character, who was crucial to the show’s success, and every so often he was going to act up in a way that angered the people around him. I just accepted this as the cost of doing business and when he did act up, I’d remind myself that I shouldn’t expect anything different.
II. Set ground rules
Establish very clear boundaries that should not be crossed. In this particular case, it was to
state that the time to declare a segment or idea stupid or unworthy of discussion was before
the show as opposed to during the show. I didn’t care if he understood why this was the
case, he just needed to know it was.
III. Don’t take the shenanigans so seriously
We always say a show requires cooperation and trust, and no one tells you what to do when a
lack of cooperation erodes that trust. One answer is to demand better cooperation, but I found this was futile and led to more frustration. I came to view the lack of cooperation as part of the
show, something that could be commented on and even laughed at. There was a rogue
operator in our midst.
Did these changes make the show better? That’s a question for the supervisors and the
listeners. I know that it made the show more sustainable because it made me less angry. I
stopped seeing my co-host as a malicious saboteur and started viewing him like a pro wrestler
who occasionally stopped following the script. Sometimes, his punches would feel like live
rounds. He was working stiff, his insults sharper. Sometimes he’d no-sell, commenting on the
general pointlessness of the discussion rather than actively participating in it.
Demanding he follow the script was never as effective as deciding that his whole act could be
part of the show.
