‘A person-centric approach to generating athlete buy in’

8 January 2019
Category:    LEADERSHIP – it starts at the top
Errol Amerasekera

Humans have a tendency to see ourselves how others see us; the messages we are sent (or not sent) and how we are treated by the world around us greatly informs our self-worth. For example, our sense of belonging, purpose and contribution is often linked to an external reference point that is validated by others, rather than something that is more internal, timeless and to be evaluated solely by ourselves. Those criteria by which we measure our success (and happiness), often mirror the values of people close to us and society in general. And finally, our sense of value is inherited from the messages – intended and unintended, subtle and overt – we receive from the cultural soup in which we all swim. And while this is a complex and perilous landscape for all of us to navigate, it is particularly challenging for elite athletes, especially those with high profiles and public roles.

In recent times, during my conversations with athletes (and senior management) I have heard a similar sentiment with frightening frequency: “I feel like a commodity”. I don’t want to minimise the humanistic and emotional experience of this, I will circle back to this later, but for the time being let’s unpack what it might mean to “feel like a commodity”.

A commodity is a raw material or agricultural product that can be bought and sold, and whose value is primarily dependent on dynamics of supply and demand. For example, if a particular weather event negatively impacts a crop of soybeans, supply is reduced and therefore the value of soybeans increases. In a free market system, the value of a particular commodity is the price at which it is bought and sold for. So a commodity has no intrinsic value; rather, its value is based on external factors that are distinctly separate from the commodity itself and assigned to it by speculators in the marketplace.

So when athletes and managers feel like a commodity, what they are perhaps suggesting is that they are made to feel as though they have little, if any intrinsic value. Rather, their value is based on a series of external factors such as how many possessions they get, wickets they take, goals they shoot, races they win, contested marks taken, etc. In other words, the message they receive is that their value is based primarily on their athletic prowess, performance and on-field statistical success; external factors that have very little to do with their inherent value as a whole human being. Over time these messages become internalised and intertwined with their own inner dialogue so that the distinction between how they are seen and how they see themselves becomes almost indiscernible. Remember our tendency to internalise our worth based on how we are seen and treated by others.

And when I say it as directly as I just did, naturally, we are all aghast. But our defensiveness and perhaps even our moral outrage does not change the fact that for many athletes and senior management, high-performance is a double-edged sword. On one edge resides their inbuilt desire to win and succeed; to perform at a high level and to contribute to a cause greater than themselves. Juxtaposed to that on the other edge, and perhaps less conscious, is a nagging internal voice that can ripple powerfully through their psychology. This voice suggests that the more successful they are, the more they are seen only as a superstar athlete who can do God-like things on a field or a court. Knowing that with every incremental uptick in their God-like status, there is a corresponding decrease in people’s ability to see them in a light that is far more commonplace and ordinary; a light that illuminates their humanity, their vulnerability, their insecurities, their fears and their dreams for the simple things in life that we ‘mere mortals’ also aspire to. In other words, the greater their performance, the less likely they are to be seen for the person behind the jersey.

If you are thinking nice philosophy Errol, but what does this mean for my team and how does it impact our performance, I am about to tell you. One of the most pressing challenges faced by coaches and leaders is getting their athletes/people to ‘buy-in’. To ‘buy-in’ means that people are 100% invested, they will do whatever it takes and have a unified approach towards the common goal of their team or organisation. The success of any strategic intervention, large or small, requires buy-in. From executing an on-field game plan to delivering a large scale cultural change program, without buy-in from key stakeholders, even the most sophisticated and robust plans are doomed for failure.

Humans have a natural and inbuilt desire to belong. In fact, going back to cave-person times, we are hardwired for connection, collaboration and community. This is because when faced with a sabretooth tiger or some other cave-person related challenge, connection and collaboration were effective survival strategies. So one would think that creating a team that people have bought into and have a strong sense of belonging would not be complicated. However, as coaches and leaders know, even with the modern day equivalents of sabretooth tigers i.e. threats and challenges, a team where each individual member has fully ‘bought-in’ is the exception rather than the rule.

So why is creating buy-in so challenging, particularly within the context of elite sport? As well as a desire to belong, humans also have a strong need to be seen, valued, appreciated and known. And not only known in the standard, ‘small talk’ kind of way, but known and valued, for who they are deep down; known for more than just who they are on the ‘outside’ and definitely for more than last week’s performance stats. When people feel truly seen and appreciated for their humanity, it mobilises them into action. It engages not only their body and mind, but also their heart and soul. In doing so, discretionary effort is generated, which in turn drives peak performance. The key take-home message here is that individuals have maximum levels of buy-in, when they feel seen, appreciated and validated for something that is more intrinsic, more related to their humanity and less about their performance.

In contrast, when people do not feel valued and appreciated for their intrinsic qualities they seek validation externally. In a team context this looks like boosting their individual statistics; playing for themselves; looking for individual accolades; and seeking an increasingly larger pay check. In short, they behave in a way which is the antithesis of buying in. Given this, when people feel treated like commodities, why are we so shocked when they then go and behave like mercenaries?

For those of us who work in elite sport, this is particularly important. For athletes in the public arena, with die-hard fan bases, they are not only under the intense scrutiny of friends, coaches and colleagues but also the public and media. As coaches and leaders we are largely unable to change the public’s perception of how they view athletes. Part of the psychological dynamics of fandom is always going to project the fan’s unlived dreams; desire to feel valued; and unmet longings for success on to the athlete, and therefore live vicariously  through the successes (or otherwise) of those athletes they support. In an environment where there is such strong scrutiny and an acute focus on an athletes’ performance, it heightens the responsibility for the rest of us to counterbalance this narrative, with an even greater focus on their humanity. If I circle back to the second paragraph, where there is an emotional impact to feeling ‘commoditised’, then this highlights the need to relate to athletes as whole human beings, if for no other reason but to provide support to them through this experience.

The way we approach this challenge is of course embedded in the culture of the team or organisation. If culture is how we do things around here, then what are the cultural elements and the messages, especially those unintended messages, that we send to our people about what their value is based on? Think about how people in your organisation communicate with and relate to your athletes? Think about how the athletes treat each other? What are the subtle, and perhaps not-so-subtle messages that are embedded in the communication patterns and behaviours that create the framework for the value system within the team? Are they saying that we value you primarily for your demonstrated performance? Or are they suggesting that as much as we would like you to perform at a high level, the inherent value we put on you is centred primarily on your humanity which is perfect, enduring and not dependent on the ebbs and flows of elite sport?