abrasive personality
No. 78307
By Harry Levinson
The Abrasive Personality
The corporate president stared out the window of his skyscraper office. His forehead was furrowed in anger and puzzlement. His fingers drummed the arm of his chair with a speed that signified intense frustration. The other executives in the room waited expectantly. Each had said his piece. Each had come to his and her own conclusion about the problem. Darrel Sandstrom, vice president of one of the corporation’s major divisions, was the problem.
Sandstrom was one of those rare young men who had rocketed to the division vice presidency at an age when most of his peers were still in lower-middle management. “He is sharp,” his peers said, “but watch out for his afterburn. You’ll get singed as he goes by.” And that, in a phrase, was the problem.
There was no question that Sandstrom was well on his way to the top. Others were already vying for a handhold on his coattails. He had a reputation for being a self-starter. Give him a tough problem, like a failing division, and he would turn it around almost before anyone knew what had happened. He was an executive who could quickly take charge, unerringly get to the heart of a problem, lay out the steps for overcoming it, bulldoze his way through corporate red tape, and reorganize to get the job done. All that was well and good. Unfortunately, that was not all there was to it.
In staff discussions and meetings with his peers
Sandstrom would ask pointed questions and make incisive comments. However, he would also brush his peers’ superfluous words aside with little tact, making them fearful to offer their thoughts in his presence. Often he would get his way in meetings because of the persuasiveness of his arguments and his commanding presentations, but just as often those who were responsible for following up the conclusions of a meeting would not do so.
In meetings with his superiors, his questions were appropriate, his conclusions
By Harry Levinson
The Abrasive Personality
The corporate president stared out the window of his skyscraper office. His forehead was furrowed in anger and puzzlement. His fingers drummed the arm of his chair with a speed that signified intense frustration. The other executives in the room waited expectantly. Each had said his piece. Each had come to his and her own conclusion about the problem. Darrel Sandstrom, vice president of one of the corporation’s major divisions, was the problem.
Sandstrom was one of those rare young men who had rocketed to the division vice presidency at an age when most of his peers were still in lower-middle management. “He is sharp,” his peers said, “but watch out for his afterburn. You’ll get singed as he goes by.” And that, in a phrase, was the problem.
There was no question that Sandstrom was well on his way to the top. Others were already vying for a handhold on his coattails. He had a reputation for being a self-starter. Give him a tough problem, like a failing division, and he would turn it around almost before anyone knew what had happened. He was an executive who could quickly take charge, unerringly get to the heart of a problem, lay out the steps for overcoming it, bulldoze his way through corporate red tape, and reorganize to get the job done. All that was well and good. Unfortunately, that was not all there was to it.
In staff discussions and meetings with his peers
Sandstrom would ask pointed questions and make incisive comments. However, he would also brush his peers’ superfluous words aside with little tact, making them fearful to offer their thoughts in his presence. Often he would get his way in meetings because of the persuasiveness of his arguments and his commanding presentations, but just as often those who were responsible for following up the conclusions of a meeting would not do so.
In meetings with his superiors, his questions were appropriate, his conclusions