A Hero and His Three Cups of Tea

Greg Mortenson appeared to be the real deal. When he got lost in Pakistan in 1993 while trying to climb K2, the world’s second-highest mountain, he arrived (in his telling) exhausted and emaciated in a desperately poor village called Korphe, where the villagers nursed him back to health. In gratitude, he told them, “I’m going to build you a school.” So started his humanitarian journey.⁷ The next year he founded the Central Asia Institute (CAI), a nonprofit, which then built a school in Korphe as he had promised and, in the years following, went on to build and support hundreds of schools in Afghanistan and Pakistan. The work wasn’t risk free— Mortenson reported being kidnapped by Taliban in the remote Tribal Areas of Pakistan on one particularly fraught occasion. In 2006, Mortenson published a moving account of his humanitarian journey and epiphany in a book called Three Cups of Tea. The book was a roaring success, selling about four million copies and spending fifty-seven weeks on the New York Times bestseller list. It became required reading for US troops being posted to Afghanistan. On the back of the success of the book, Mortenson started touring the US, making hundreds of public appearances in which he promoted the book, his story, and CAI’s mission.⁸ With all the publicity, CAI raised tens of millions of dollars in the wake of the book’s publication. President Obama donated $100,000 to CAI from the proceeds of his Nobel Prize.

The trouble was that much of Mortenson’s story turned out to be false or, at best, deeply misleading. Exposés in 2011 by 60 Minutes and the prominent writer and former donor to CAI Jon Krakauer were closely followed by an investigation by the Montana Attorney General’s Office. Together they revealed that Mortenson had not ended up in Korphe after an attempt on K2—he went there a year or two later during another visit to Pakistan.⁹ And the villagers didn’t nurse him back to health, as he wasn’t exhausted or hungry when he visited, allegedly for just a few hours. Nor was he kidnapped by Taliban.¹⁰

Even more concerning were allegations of mismanagement of CAI’s operations and finances. It turned out that not all the schools Mortenson boasted of had students; some were being used to store spinach, or hay for livestock; and some had not even been built.¹¹ When it came to its finances, a picture emerged that CAI had paid the costs of producing and publishing Mortenson’s book (about $367,000 in total), and had bought thousands of promotional copies of the book from commercial retailers and given them away. It had also paid the advertising and travel costs for Mortenson’s speaking engagements, including chartering a private jet to fly him around. In four years following the book’s publication, CAI spent about $4 million buying copies of the book and almost $5 million advertising the book and $2 million on private jets. Yet, despite CAI paying millions to publish and promote the book, royalties for the book and many hundreds of thousands of dollars in speaking fees were paid to Mortenson, not CAI.¹² This had consequences for CAI’s mission—for example, in 2009, only 41 percent of the money raised went to building schools.¹³ Throughout this time, Mortenson remained CEO of CAI, and a board member, and received a significant salary from the organization. He resigned as CEO at the end of 2011 and stepped down from the board in 2015.

What lessons can be learned from this sorry tale? One is the power of a charismatic, heroic leader with a hopeful story to tell. As Mortenson himself later observed, “Americans want heroes to believe in. Once the machine kicks in, you can be pretty much anyone, and people will flock to you.”¹⁴ If he had used his platform entirely for the benefit of CAI, instead of his personal enrichment, it would have been a more ambiguous morality tale, but that argument falls away in light of him benefiting personally and extensively at the expense of his organization and its mission.

Another lesson is the utter failure of CAI’s board to hold its CEO accountable (complicated by the fact that Mortenson was also a voting member of the board—never a good practice for nonprofit CEOs). Holding the CEO accountable is a common challenge with overly charismatic leaders. In this case, while the board belatedly “recognized and agreed that Mortenson should pay some of the travel and promotional costs associated with his speaking engagements and books, and that he should pay CAI for royalties he received from books purchased by CAI . . . [n]either the board nor Mortenson, however, took steps to implement those agreements.”¹⁵

And a third lesson is that this style of overly charismatic leadership will rarely be for the benefit of the community purportedly being served. In fact, the community often operates as a prop for the leader’s efforts at self-promotion. As one observer noted, “[Mortenson is] the hero of his books, and he believes in scale, speed, and the constant need for more money and more construction. He shows no special knowledge of Pakistan or Afghanistan. In fact, he spends very little time in Central Asia.”¹⁶

All in all, it’s quite a sad story. Mortenson was clearly committed to supporting education in areas of the world where there was an overwhelming need for it, long before his self-promotion efforts took over his life and undermined his organization’s mission. But his deceptions and CAI’s governance failures did more than just damage its mission; they also exploited the desire of donors and other supporters to believe in hope and a powerful cause—and gave succor to those who seek to undermine the credibility of the nonprofit sector.

4. The Leader as Coach

At the other end of the spectrum from the “heroic” style is the coaching style, which focuses on supporting others, not promoting oneself. The leader-as-coach is rightly, albeit belatedly, receiving a lot more interest these days.¹⁷ It is particularly well adapted to the culture of nonprofits. Goleman observed:

Of the six styles, our research found that the coaching style is used least often. Many leaders told us they don’t have the time in this high-pressure economy for the slow and tedious work of teaching people and helping them grow. But after a first session, it takes little or no extra time. Leaders who ignore this style are passing up a powerful tool: its impact on climate and performance are markedly positive . . . Although the coaching style may not scream “bottom-line results,” it delivers them.¹⁸

In my development as a leader, I have moved from being overly decisive and insufficiently consultative—as illustrated in the opening story to this chapter—to one who strives to bring more of a coaching approach to my leadership more often. I’m still a work in progress. But when done well, the payoffs are significant, in terms of more highly motivated staff and a more impactful organization. This shouldn’t be surprising in a nonprofit environment, where most staff are driven in whole or in part by a commitment to the cause they serve and can best be supported by encouraging that drive.

So what does a coaching approach mean in practice? For me, it means checking my natural tendency to offer a solution every time a colleague comes to me asking for advice. Instead, I try to ask them questions to get their views on the best way forward, or why they don’t feel they can make a decision or recommendation on this occasion. This leads to much richer discussions, and usually to better outcomes.

More specifically, it means:

Working with your direct reports and other staff to help them identify their strengths and weaknesses, and connecting these with their personal and career aspirations.

Helping them come up with clear goals for their work and a plan to achieve them, and supporting them in doing so.

Embedding a coaching approach into the culture of your organization, along with the values of trust and accountability.¹⁹

Being willing to receive and act on lots of feedback from across the organization.

Staying flexible.

Delegating when you can.

The coaching style of leadership requires a significant up-front investment of time, but the results are manifold: stronger longer-term performance, reinforcement of an inclusive culture and psychological safety, and “bottom-line” results in terms of impact.

LOOK AFTER YOURSELF

The risk for any leader, but particularly one new to the role, is that they are so focused on leading the organization that they fail to look after themselves. The job of a nonprofit leader comes with huge pressures. You are always acutely conscious of the responsibility you bear to the mission, to staff, to the community you serve, to your board—to everyone else—and you often forget about the responsibility you have to yourself. But if you don’t look after yourself, you won’t be as effective a leader as you need to be.

Your self-interest in looking after your own well-being is also in the organization’s interest. However, many leaders don’t see it that way and, in fact, believe that leadership requires them to demonstrate granite-like strength and infallibility. But that approach will increase your risk of burnout. In this section, we’ll look at how leadership challenges leaders’ own sense of self, and the steps they can take to better look after themselves.

1. Focus on the Right Things

As we’ve discussed, many nonprofit leaders, particularly first-time CEOs, find it difficult to allocate their time effectively so they can focus on the important issues rather than the seemingly urgent ones that are actually distractions from the core work. Everyone wants the leader’s attention, and it becomes all too easy for the CEO to make decisions on every issue that comes to them, which guarantees everything will continue coming to them whether or not it merits their attention.

Many new CEOs micromanage due to insecurity or lack of experience. A new CEO, feeling overwhelmed by their responsibilities, may find comfort in focusing on tasks and routines they know well, even if these are no longer their responsibility. A former program director, now CEO, may spend too much time on programs because that is familiar and often rewarding work, and they find it more engaging (and less scary) than fundraising, dealing with board members, and handling tricky internal staffing issues (such as firing someone).

The problem is that the CEO is spending time on things better done by others, and not spending time on the issues they should be prioritizing. The result is an overworked CEO who has no time to reflect, and colleagues who are disempowered and unwilling to take responsibility for difficult decisions. As we’ll see in the next chapter, how the CEO behaves has a big influence on the organization’s culture. Overworked CEOs who are pulled in many different directions should also consider the opportunity cost. When you are busy trying to do someone else’s job, you are not devoting enough time to your own. Or you are working far longer and more intensely than you should as you are trying to do two jobs at once, doing neither well, and creating a significantly increased risk of burnout.

CEOs need to be aware of these very natural tendencies and pull back as required. They should ensure issues only come to them for decisions at the right time and level. They should push decisions back down to colleagues who have responsibility for them. A coaching approach to leadership can be beneficial here. Instead of deciding for colleagues, encourage them to take responsibility where appropriate, and support them in doing so. Do this consistently, and you’ll find that fewer issues come to you that should have been dealt with by your subordinates. It’s important to remember that if you make good hiring decisions and feel confident about your team, you should trust colleagues to do their job without hovering over them.

Then, over time, you will find that you have more time to devote to the big issues and decisions you should be focused on, for the better of your organization.

2. Dealing with Loneliness

Leadership is a lonely practice. This can be particularly so for newly promoted CEOs, as their relationship with former colleagues changes from one of peers to one of boss/subordinate. Regardless of your intentions, your colleagues will treat you differently because of your position at the top of the organization’s hierarchy. The gap can be greater or smaller depending on your leadership style, but it’s always there. Many staff find interacting with their CEO stressful, regardless of how approachable you think you are. Staff more often come to you with problems than positive feedback. It’s crucial to maintain awareness of this power dynamic, which is present in every interaction, no matter how approachable or transparent you may seek to be.

Over half the CEOs in one survey reported experiencing feelings of loneliness in their role, and most of those believed it hindered their performance.²⁰ Loneliness is particularly challenging during times of crisis—like a pandemic or in tough financial climates—as you add the challenge of dealing with these crises on top of all the usual CEO worries.

One way to reduce the burden of loneliness is to build a leadership team you can trust, and with whom you can openly discuss concerns. This doesn’t remove the burden of responsibility but will lead to better-informed decisions. Using executive coaching can also help leaders navigate these challenges. Even in the best of times, leaders can benefit from having someone outside their organization to speak to about their worries and hopes; during difficult times, this resource can be invaluable. Given all the demands of leadership, there is a particular benefit in having dedicated time to talk to someone who listens actively and asks incisive questions, to step back from the immediate pressures, to reflect and think.^*

I certainly benefited from being coached during the pandemic. In fact, I’ve found the whole practice so helpful that I’ve now completed an executive coaching course myself, and regularly provide pro bono coaching to new nonprofit leaders. The feedback I’ve received from them is that it’s a very helpful practice. And for myself, I find that coaching others educates me as I seek to bring a coaching style to my own leadership.

If coaching seems too structured or otherwise unsuitable, you can seek out a mentor—someone with experience you value who can offer advice. Mentoring is generally seen as more of a top-down process, whereas coaching is—or should be—more of a two-way process. Both have great value.^*

Peer groups have been another invaluable resource for me. Some of the most valuable advice I’ve received during my nonprofit career has been from groups of leaders in similar positions. During my time as a chief operating officer, I joined a group of senior operational and advocacy staff from peer organizations and found a trusted environment in which I could openly share challenges, failures, and advice. If something structured doesn’t already exist, you can easily set up a small, informal group of peers. You’ll be surprised at how many other CEOs want a trusted forum for honest discussion and sharing.

3. Mental Health

Nonprofit leadership is stressful at the best of times. Often there is a profound mismatch between what we can achieve and what we feel responsible for. Leaders often feel that the needs of the community they serve are overwhelming, and if only we worked a bit harder and longer, then we could make a bigger difference, and perhaps close the gap. But if you are not careful, that thinking will lead to exhaustion and burnout. So, you need to find a way to keep your commitment and empathy within manageable bounds.

Even when things are going well, you are most likely constantly thinking ahead about potential problems. I know that even when the Freedom Fund is in a very solid position, I’m reflecting on the next big funding renewal (how we can maximize chances of it happening, and what happens if it doesn’t come through); board dynamics at the forthcoming board meeting; how we’ll find high-quality staff in a tight recruitment market; internal processes on diversity, equity, and inclusion, and whether we are making the progress we want; when and how to phase out certain programs at the right time, and the impact that will have on communities we serve and our staff; and then almost invariably back to funding (funding concerns are ever present for most nonprofit CEOs). Your mind is constantly preoccupied with things you or the organization needs to do. And that’s at the best of times. During the tough times, you are probably in a constant state of heightened anxiety—even if it’s not apparent, sometimes even to your conscious self.

In many ways, the CEO has a 24/7 job, because you can’t shut away those concerns and stresses, even if you are highly disciplined about maintaining a healthy work-life balance. That being the case, you need to do a couple of things. The first is to maintain a sense of perspective on the challenges, even during the tough times. And the second is to find ways to help yourself be more mentally resilient and better able to cope with the ever-present pressures.

When it comes to perspective, on several occasions I’ve catastrophized about the consequences of something going wrong at the Freedom Fund, only to find either the situation didn’t occur, or if it did, it didn’t have the consequences I feared it might. A good example is of a big donor unexpectedly cutting all their funding. That happened to us once, with no notice, but fortunately, we had sufficient reserves to manage the transition because we’d been working through budget scenarios and ways to give ourselves a financial buffer against headwinds, even though we hadn’t foreseen this particular situation. And that unhappy experience has been more than balanced by other new donors appearing on the landscape. These days, while I often think about the risks of donors unexpectedly stepping away, I’m now much better at contemplating this in a broad context of the ebb and flow of funding. COVID-19 was out of left field for us, as for everyone else, but thanks to our financial resilience, investments in culture, and ability to rapidly change our approach where needed, we could navigate that particularly tough time.

In terms of building personal mental resilience, it’s hard for me to offer advice. Beyond keeping a healthy perspective on events, you need to focus on your ability to handle stress. That means acknowledging that stress is often present, and it’s normal to feel stress. The worst thing you can do is pretend stress doesn’t exist or impact you. Over the years, I’ve developed my own stress tool kit. This involves exercising regularly, trying (but not always succeeding) to meditate frequently, keeping work hours within check, discussing challenges with my wife, and finding ways to unwind outside of work. You should develop your own tool kit. The challenge is that in times of great stress, maintaining a regular routine becomes harder. When I travel too much, I disrupt my routine, often end up sleeping badly, and don’t do the things I should do to restore some balance, like exercising and meditating.

Sadly, leaders are still seen by many as weak if they admit they are struggling with their mental health. This inhibits them from taking the action they need to get themselves to a better place. I certainly learned this through hard-won experience, including seeing a psychologist during a particularly challenging work and personal time in a previous job. That was one of the best investments I have ever made in my own well-being.

Each leader will have to work out for themselves how to recognize and respond to stress. The best I can tell you is that it’s critically important that you do—otherwise, you will not be as effective a leader as you should be, and you and your organization and mission will suffer as a result.

LEADERSHIP SUCCESSION

One of the most important ways a CEO can serve their organization and its cause is to ensure a smooth transition at the right time to a well-qualified successor, ideally someone who will lead the organization to even greater heights. As a first step, this requires you to leave when the time is right, before your “use-by” date. Many CEOs simply don’t want to leave a job they enjoy, even if they are no longer best placed to lead the organization. Some remain in place because they are nervous about finding a new role. Some can’t contemplate anyone else leading “their” organization. Or they may fear that their successor will overshadow their achievements. Of course, all of this is the antithesis of purpose-driven leadership, which should be squarely focused on advancing the cause you serve and the best interests of the organization—not your ego.

There is no magic number on how many years one should serve as CEO. The metric is qualitative, not quantitative. Relevant considerations include: Is the organization thriving and getting stronger and having ever-greater impact? Are you still energized by the job and cause? Are staff still motivated by your leadership? Do you have the strong support of your board and key donors? For some nonprofits, the sooner the CEO departs, the better. Others have enjoyed remarkable success under long-serving leaders. While the evidence is limited, one study found that, although the average nonprofit CEO tenure is four years, the twelve highest-performing nonprofits identified by the researchers each had a CEO who led the organization for decades.^*

Regardless of how effective a CEO is, the longer they serve, the more challenging the succession is likely to be, given that, after enough years, most staff, board members, and funders will only have experienced one leader and one leadership style.

When it comes to transition, there are some best practices to which all organizations should give thought. The first is a succession plan. This doesn’t need to be a detailed written plan. Having a highly capable deputy (or deputies) who is well qualified to lead the organization on an interim basis may suffice. This will enable a comprehensive search for a successor (for which the deputy may well be a candidate) when the time comes. Even better if that deputy has had stints in leading the organization during times when the CEO has been on leave or sabbatical.