Nobody Gets Paid to Admire the Problem
Jocko Willink, and the three roles we hide in.
Have you ever been in the Drama Triangle?
Oh no? Not you. Not me either, right?
Ya. You. And me too.
A psychiatrist named Stephen Karpman mapped it in 1968. Three corners, and we rotate through them all day without noticing. You know the meeting after the meeting. The truck ride where it all comes out. Nothing gets fixed in either of those rooms, and everybody walks away feeling like something happened.
Victim. This is happening to me. The schedule, the GC, the owner, the weather. All real, all outside my control, none of it mine to solve.
Villain. The critic. Picks people apart, hunts for what is wrong instead of what is right, calls the sarcasm “just being honest.” An armchair quarterback in a hard hat.
Hero. Swoops in and fixes it for everybody. Looks like the good guy. Is actually making sure nobody else ever has to grow, and burning himself down doing work that was never his.
I have lived in all three, and I described two of them to you this fall without naming them. The over-responsibility, doing too much for people who needed to do more for themselves - that is the Hero, and I am still working my way out of it. Getting critical, picking people apart - that is the Villain, and it is still one of my tells.
And here is the third one. When somebody gets irritated that I fixed a thing that was theirs to fix, watch how fast I slide. “What? I was just trying to help.” That is the Victim talking, and it took me a long time to hear it in my own mouth.
So this is not me describing you from a distance. It is a scouting report on myself.
You can see the whole rotation clearest in a couple. One of them is carrying too much, doing it all, until they get frustrated and jump to critic. The other one, who has been playing Victim, slides over to Hero and tries to get everything right for a while. Then they both drift back to their defaults and run it again next month. Nobody in that house is a bad person. They are just on the triangle.
Now hear this part clearly. Raising problems is required. If something is unsafe, behind, underbid or broken, I want it today, loud, from anybody. The problem is never the problem. It is where you take it and what you bring with it.
And not just any option. “Fire Tom” is not a solution, it is a complaint wearing a tie. A solution is long-term, and you are volunteering to help carry it. Think like an owner. What are you proposing? What will you lead? How can you help?
Jocko Willink and Leif Babin wrote the way out of the Victim corner into a book called Extreme Ownership. Both were Navy SEAL officers in Ramadi in 2006.
The book opens on the worst day of Jocko’s career. A friendly fire fight in the dark - his own men and Iraqi soldiers shooting at each other. One Iraqi soldier killed. A SEAL and several more wounded. When the investigation came, there was blame everywhere, and plenty of it belonged to other people. Jocko stood up in front of the room and said it was his fault. He was the commander. He owned it.
That is the whole idea, and it is brutal in how simple it is: the leader owns everything in his world. Not most of it. Everything. The second you own your piece, the triangle has nowhere to put you, because every corner of it needs this to be somebody else’s fault.
Think About It.
Think of the last problem you complained about out loud. Did you take it to the one person who could fix it, or to the people who would agree with you?
One of those solves it. The other feels exactly the same in the moment and changes nothing.
The fastest way off the triangle
Ask a question. That is the whole move, and almost nobody makes it.
The Victim asks what do I want here, and what is my next move. The Villain asks what am I missing instead of handing down a verdict from the cheap seats. The Hero asks what do you want to do about it instead of grabbing the shovel and doing a grown man’s work for him.
A verdict ends a conversation. A question starts one. Three corners, one exit.
“Clarity creates accountability.”
Nate LowriePlaying to lose vs. playing to win
In the triangle → playing to lose
- Takes it to everybody but the person.
- Admires the problem out loud.
- Waits until it is big.
- Collects evidence he was right.
- Calls cynicism realism.
Out of it → playing to win
- Goes straight to the person.
- Brings a solution he will help lead.
- Says it while it is small.
- Asks before he concludes.
- Names it and moves.
Let’s Play to Win
Get off the triangle.
- Name your corner. Under pressure, which one is your default - Victim, Villain or Hero? You already know.
- Never admire a problem without a proposal. Bring the long-term fix and say what part of it you will carry.
- Go to the person, and lead with a question. There is one conversation you have been routing around. Have it this week, and ask before you conclude. You are usually missing half the picture.
If you only do one, say your corner out loud to one person. Ten seconds. It is very hard to keep playing a role somebody else can see you in.
And for anybody reading this who is not on our crew: this is how we try to run a job. Something goes sideways on every project. The question is whether your contractor brings it to you early with a plan, or hands you a change order in month four with a story about whose fault it was. We are not perfect at it. We are after it. If you have a project coming, or an idea you are kicking around, call me.
Remember what we are. We are builders. Not just what is painted on the truck. We build people up. We build situations up. We build better results. You cannot do one of those from a corner of that triangle.
Be strong and courageous. (Joshua 1:9)
Let’s get after it in life, family, and business. AND LET’S PLAY TO WIN!!!
Lots of love, Nate
