Know your influence.
what my first real boss taught me by pretending not to teach me
I had an awesome 2003 at IAC.
I started in March as a Systems Administrator, and got promoted pretty quickly (to SENIOR SysAdmin). In early 2004, I received a largely positive review (my first corporate “performance review” ever) from Evite’s head of systems. He was a smart, innovative guy and a nice person, but was not particularly interested in communicating (at least with me). I got a couple of notes about my performance that I found opaque, didn’t take particularly seriously, and didn’t remember later.
I had an even better 2004, and in early 2005 I got promoted again — this time to Director of Operations, reporting directly to John Foley, head of the Evite business unit. When we had our review meeting, John seemed to take the “process” about as seriously as I did. I mean, I’d gotten promoted twice in less than two years, right? In the little conference room, John was just breezing through the whole thing. On the printed HR rubric, John had checked the boxes: 5s for this-and-that; couple of 4s (because hey, they can’t all be 5s, right?). His written comments were sparse (“Email delivery up 40%”). Easy, breezy, collegial. Ten minutes, max.
Among the sea of high marks, John had also ticked one single, solitary “2” for me. Being the competitive psycho that I am, that 2 received my full attention. I got a 2 on Leadership? But I’d just been promoted to a significant leadership position? By you? So confused.
In the written comments box, there were three words and a period: “Know your influence.”
John Foley, ever the master of the moment, let the 2 hang in the air for a few seconds. Finally, I asked, “What does that mean?” John went on to explain in his kind-yet-direct, avuncular style, that I probably didn’t realize my promotion had changed me. Not the “me” that I knew — but the “me” that others saw. I had established a bit of a personal brand centered on fun, jokes, sarcasm, occasionally pranks. I was the funny guy (I thought I was a funny guy). You need to know, Foley explained, when the sysadmin says something biting to a product manager or customer service rep, it can be heard as funny or, heck, ignored. But when the Director of Operations makes the same remark, it can ruin someone’s day, or make them wonder if their job is in jeopardy.
Whoa. Know your influence.
At all times, it is incumbent upon leaders, John went on to explain, to be aware of their impact on others. Eyes are watching. Ears are listening. Even when you think you’re just having a normal conversation, humans are deeply wired to interpret social interactions through the lens of hierarchy and status. It’s a completely unconscious instinct that cannot be defeated or re-wired. And when you’re a leader, you can leverage these dynamics as sources of strength for you and those you lead — or you can diminish your impact by unwittingly squandering or abusing your influence.
Later that night, I realized the real mindfuck of it all: John had taught me this most important of leadership principles by his literal example. He knew I would focus on the one negative mark in a highly positive review; he was aware of his personal level of influence on me; and he knew no lesson would so quickly and comprehensively increase my impact. Like a matryoshka doll of leadership lessons.
I wonder if Foley knew I’d remember this moment for the rest of my career. Every time I had a boss; every time I was a boss; whenever I interacted with a CEO, from an entrepreneur to a Bob Iger; whenever I stood at the front of a large room, whether or not I was speaking; certainly every time I gave (or received) employee feedback.
Know your influence.
When you understand influence, you measure leaders differently. The best ones are extremely aware of their impact. Bob Iger, Barry Diller, Scott Flanders, Jimmy Pitaro — I witnessed each of those four CEOs wield influence in ways both subtle and direct, leveraging wildly different personal and communication styles to generate similarly far-reaching organizational impacts. And when I’ve seen leaders failing, self-awareness has almost always been among their blind spots.
John Foley was the perfect first “real boss” for me. I’m so thankful I got to watch him work before he became “the” John Foley — though I am pretty sure he’s still the same guy. Foley taught me so many other lessons I carry with me everywhere, like:
Lead from the front (versus from “the pack”).
Don’t give people too much feedback all at once. (Even the most growth-minded people can only work to improve one or maybe two personal qualities at a time.)
Remember that everyone thinks they’re a good person, doing the right thing, and they are not purposely trying to block your progress. (If you treat every interaction this way, navigating corporate obstacles can be a lot less frustrating.)
Develop techniques to gently end conversations when productive time is tight. (John kept a toothbrush at his desk. It was amazing how often he decided the current moment was exactly the right one to head to the restroom to work on his oral hygiene).
I’d arrived at IAC in March of 2003 after years of bouncing through dot-bomb cycles at entertainment-adjacent companies — desktop support, server admin, UX, front-end coding, every job imaginable. I had never used the word “career” before. That’s what IAC gave me. There is no doubt in my mind that working at IAC permanently and positively changed my life. And I have John, and my colleagues on the team he curated and led, to thank for so much of that trajectory-altering change.
Whenever people ask me for career advice, I stress the importance of finding leaders they want to work for. Leaders who lead from the front. Leaders who know their influence and use it to enrich employees’ perspectives, careers, and lives.
Leaders like John Foley.