by Meyler Campbell
Meyler Campbell Graduate Jessica Pryce-Jones’ company i-Opener was on the front page of the FT Appointments section November 24th November 2011 http://www.iopenerinstitute.com/media/45865/financial_times_-_24_nov_11_-_young_and_jobless.pdf
Congratulations Jess!
by Liz Gooster (BC11)
‘Coaching should be more whisky and less water.’ This was the standout quote for me in Sir John Whitmore’s presentation at the recent Meyler Campbell fishbowl event. Rightly famous as one of the founding fathers of coaching, in business, sport and life, Sir John has also been a champion racing car driver, a ski coach and aHollywood film producer. An extraordinary character, just months after being hospitalised and in a coma as a result of a dramatically bad skiing accident, Sir John treated us to a breathstopping overview of coaching, the world economy, and everything in between.
As a newly-qualified coach whose training kicked off with Sir John’s bestselling Coaching for Performance, personally I would have preferred to trade some of the big-picture analysis for a nitty gritty display of the man himself coaching using the GROW model. However, it’s fair enough for someone who laid the foundation stones of coaching in the first edition of his book, more than 20 years ago, to want to move on to pastures new, and it was impossible not to be impressed by his vigour and forthright opinions. Standing straight and tall as a ship’s mast, he covered an exhausting range of topics in a voice booming like a captivating cannon ball. His wide-ranging speech leapt energetically from theme to theme, the core thread being that people skills are vital at a personal, organisational and even global level. The presentation was peppered with personal stories and tales of the colourful characters Sir John has met in the course of a life so eventful it would leave most of us reeling with fatigue.
Demonstrating the value we bring to clients is a constant challenge for coaches. You couldn’t get a clearer illustration of return on investment than Sir John’s example of the Royal Navy’s field gun race. This is a gruelling military competition that has been held for over a century. A top team of elite soldiers disassembles a massive gun, carries its crushingly heavy components over an obstacle course and then reassembles it at the other end – all against the clock, and against a competing team of equally finely honed men. I was enthralled to hear how a field gun team whose leader applied a coaching approach to training (having himself been trained by Sir John) raced to unprecedented victory, winning all five available cups in the tournament. Not only this, the team sustained just one injury (a broken wrist) during training, compared with an average of 16 in non-coaching teams. They went on to repeat the feat over three consecutive years. As Sir John said, ‘the results speak for themselves’. This is a stirring example of how coaching can help achieve seemingly unattainable results. (Follow the link to watch a video of the 1999 field gun race) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32s4qCCFnmk)
Less dramatic, but no less impressive, was the golf coaching video we watched, in which Sir John coached a novice golfer while a golf pro taught another using traditional training methods. The video was rather dated, and so the backdrop to the film was a row of slightly sinister looking players with 1970s moustaches and loose, grubby-looking outfits, a bit like the men in the ‘118 directory enquiry’ ads. Beyond these amusing distractions, the results again spoke for themselves. The lucky player who was coached by Sir John came across as relaxed, excited by her progress and energised by the whole process. The other was less fortunate: she appeared stressed, overwhelmed and confused. She made progress in her golf, but not as much as the coached player, and from an observer’s viewpoint, she’d had a less fulfilling journey.
So where does the whisky come in? Sir John cautioned us firmly against using wordy questions with our coaching clients, a warning which I’m sure resonated with several members of the audience, including me. Stick to the simple, clear and concise, he exhorted. This is the coaching equivalent of going easy on the water you add to your whisky, which dilutes its kick. Like an unstoppable train, he told us that ‘if your coaching doesn’t work, you’re not doing it right’ and reminded us that the responsibility falls back on us as coaches to adjust our approach until it’s effective. A legend of the coaching turf indeed, and a pleasure to hear him speak. Now, where did I put that whisky?
* Credit goes to Dena Arstall for the title of this post
(to read more from Liz go to her blog (http://www.lizgooster.com/2011/11/14/legends-of-the-coaching-turf-sir-john-whitmore/)
Innovation in Coaching Psychology - 13th and 14th December 2011
City University London, Northampton Square, London, EC1V 0HB
This is an event for those that are interested in or currently using coaching psychology in their practice, and those who wish to learn more about how they can benefit from coaching psychology for themselves or their organisations. There will be opportunities to hear from different organisations as they share their stories of using coaching psychology in house.
A snapshot of what you will hear about…
“Using work-life balance theory and frameworks in coaching”
“Developing politicians: Challenges and opportunities”
“Conditional self acceptance: A potential barrier to engagement in leadership coaching?”
“Innovations in coaching psychology practice through technology and the internet”
A few examples of who you will hear from….
Adrian Furnham (UK), Regula Stammbach (Netherlands),
Ida Sirolli (Italy), Pascale Reinhardt (France),
Lisbeth Hurni (Switzerland), Tatiana Bachkirova (UK),
Siegfried Greif (Germany), Stephen Palmer (UK),
Where to find out more….
Details about the venue, the programme, how to register, social event, etc, can be found at:
http://sgcp-conference.bps.org.uk/sgcp-conference_home.cfm
by Ruth Storm (BC07)
Dear all,
I’m about to embark on another adventure and it would be great to have you follow along. I’ll be skiing to the South Pole, mountain climbing in Antarctica’s Ellsworth Mountains, then exploring southern Chile.
You can follow me and the team I’m with on the following blogs:
www.southpoleroundtrip.com
www.weberarctic.com (our Guide, Richard Weber)
http://south-pole.weebly.com/index.html (my team mate, Chris)
http://www.explorersweb.com/polar/ (overall coverage of all teams going to the South Pole this year, click on the main picture/Antarctica wrap-up to get full details)
Our journey is a 900 km ski from the edge of the Antarctic continent to the South Pole. We expect to take around 35 days to do this. There is much more description on the websites above. My time table (subject to weather) is as follows:
Nov 8 – depart London for Punta Arenas, Chile
Nov 16 – depart Punta Arenas for Union Glacier, Antarctica
Nov 20 – fly to start point, Messner Route to South Pole
Dec 25-28 – arrive South Pole!
Dec 28 – return to Union Glacier (Twin Otter plane pick-up) – the others will kite ski back
Dec 29 – Jan 5 – mountaineering in the Ellsworth Mountains
Jan 5 – return to Punta Arenas to await the others returning on Jan 12
Jan 12 – Jan 29 – explore southern Chile
Love, Ruth
By Anne Scoular
Funnily enough this was the first posh Memorial Service I had been invited to – as a colonial Angloholic I had of course for years read avidly about these events, “the Great and the Good” coming together in a uniquely English unspoken combination of celebration of a life, and formal mourning after the first shock of grief for the close family has passed and they can really be present. Didn’t know the form, so asked a dear neighbour what I should wear: one must have one’s head covered she said firmly, dark tights (oh I thought, no trousers then) and although she conceded that other ladies might not, to be correct one should wear gloves – though when shaking hands “take the right one off hold it in your left and shake hands with the widow with an ungloved hand – because, tartly, ”you’re not the Queen”. And to my surprise, no coat – only permitted in deepest bitter cold it seems, and I realise with hindsight one does indeed see people on TV etc arriving at events in smart suit jackets, un-coated, learned something. Grey is good, not deep black and did I have “something bright” for the lapel – I gestured at my usual gold dragon would this be OK, there was the tiniest flicker before she said yes of course, realised afterwards she meant diamonds.
With hindsight my neighbour is not only an older lady, but a devout and conservative Catholic, and John was none of those things and neither would his Memorial Service be. I did realise I might well be the only one in a hat but didn’t care, he changed my life, I am deeply deeply grateful to him and have lost a man I loved so sod it I was dressing up – he would have worn an equally unaccustomed tie to mine.
Because of course hat etc, was displacement activity – I was in some sort of denial about John’s death since when last I saw him, about three weeks before he died, he seemed still his old self – at home, much thinner of course, still able to talk (thank GOD my deepest fear had been, given the cruel illness he had, he might lose that – which for him, who lived by ideas and talking and sparking ideas would have been more unbearable than even all the other horrid things he bore so bravely), dressed as normal, on his sofa, his grandchildren running around playing happily – and when I left, he courteously stood up and walked me to the door. (This surface normality concealed of course ferocious courage and will on John’s part, and unceasing exhausting constant work by Sally and the incredible hospice people.)
But that’s what Memorial Services are for – to break it gently to us that this IS true. It was at the Priory Church of the Order of St John in Clerkenwell. Packed of course, but to our relief we spotted a row of Meyler Campbell friends and Daniel and I slipped in beside them. Penny to my left, Andy beyond her (bless him, came all the way from Cornwall), Sam and Ann O further along the row, Verity. And a few rows forward, I could see Oonagh and Sarah sitting beside each other, I was so pleased they each (both I knew feeling great sadness at the loss of John) would have each other for company. Others I didn’t spot in the throng emailed sadly but appreciatively afterwards. The order of St John (yes, the chivalrous medieval knights, how appropriate) did him proud. John had done a decade of strategy and coaching for them pro bono. First words from the Prelate of the Order spoke almost with wonderment at the depth of John’s listening. Then “Lord of all hopefulness”, sung by that congregation loudly and firmly. (We had it at our wedding, that helped.) Then John’s brother Robert – different and yet the same, round twinkly eyes, and reading a poem (below) which caught John in all his myriad facets to such perfection we all almost gasped. A heartfelt tribute by Dr Munji Athreya from New Delhi, about their days as lively students at Harvard, fiercely debating the great subjects of the world with constant energy and joy – but which then swept around John’s extraordinary global career. Then the Dean of London Business School. The world’s great business schools in truth seethe with vicious politics, LBS is no exception, and every single member of the audience knew it, so eyebrows were raised to see what would be said. But though delivered with reserved dignity, the Dean’s evidence personal distress at losing John, and his true respect and affection for the great man, shone through as powerfully as his listing of his great academic achievements. The hymn “He who would valiant be”, so appropriate for a man of such integrity and determination to make a difference, that it got too close to the bone – had to reach down while singing and get hankie from handbag.
Then both his sons spoke, separately. In my view, the greatest achievement of all, whatever else in life, is the raising of fine children, and the pinnacle of John and Sally’s life was there before us – even greater than his string of accolades and awards, his Himalayan first ascents, being adviser to the Governments of Japan and Peru and countless others and many of the greatest corporations, was the way these two boys spoke of their father. I lost it. Through my tears I felt a hand coming from next to me, and Penny bless her held mine while I cried. Someone said the Lord Prior of St John spoke well, well he may have, I heard a resonant booming voice and fine phrases, but I was thinking of John, and what his sons had said. Prayers. The final Hymn, “Jerusalem”, (also at our wedding) a combination of singing it as loudly and strongly and with feeling as I bloody well could, straight to John, and back to the hankie. The Blessing deeply appreciated.
After all that, although the Order paid John and the congregation the great further tribute of opening up the medieval Crypt below for us to visit, and deep lover of history though I am, it was an unusually cursory look (and hugs with an equally moved Richard who we bumped into there), as was desperate for a cup of tea. That was in a glorious hall across the road, by the arch one sees, and with the extraordinarily good little museum below also open for us – they really DID do him proud. One cup of tea went down like a vodka shot, and I wolfed a food bite. Second cup, and was fit to talk a bit, but didn’t stay very long.
So for those many members of the community from far and wide who wanted to be there and couldn’t, rest assured Sally Robin and Nick, his brother Robert, the great Universities around the world, John’s many students admirers coachees and friends, the Order, the music, the setting, the organist, the poetry – truly, they, we, remembered him well.
Poem read by John’s brother Robert (with apologies to unknown copyright holder)
“Success” by Bessie Stanley
He has achieved success who has lived well,
laughed often and loved much;
who has gained the respect of intelligent men
and the love of little children;
who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;
who has left the world better than he found it;
who has never lacked appreciation of earth’s beauty
or failed to express it;
who has always looked for the best in others
and given them the best he had;
whose life was an inspiration;
whose memory a benediction.
John Stopford had the remarkable ability to be simultaneously a first rate business academic, an expert teacher (especially of executives and MBAs) and a guru able to connect with top management teams and business practitioners. In the world of management education he was one of the most influential institution builders in the UK and Europe, a founder of the field of International Business and a leader in establishing both the Executive Education and Strategic and International Management departments at London Business School over forty years ago. His academic work will be remembered for his pioneering articles and books on the strategy and structure of multi-national enterprises; his unique ability to combine economic and political analysis in his work on government policy and multi-national business strategies; and his career interest and publications on large scale change in mature organisations. Many scholars have paid tribute to his unique contributions and insights; his extensive collaborations that allowed him to tap many streams of thinking; and his books where ideas were given full play.
John was born in Sri Lanka in 1939, the son of Robert Stopford, later Bishop of London. His earliest days were in West Africa, and there his story might have ended. Returning to the UK in 1943 by sea, the family’s ship was sunk by a torpedo. His mother was killed, but John, with his father and brother, survived in the water until they were rescued.
John Stopford’s first job as a teenager was in Rotterdam docks in the 1950s. He subsequently trained as a craft apprentice at the UK engineering company Baker Perkins, before gaining a degree in engineering at Oxford University and subsequently a Masters at MIT, where he worked on the Saturn I programme and published his first academic article. He worked for Royal Dutch Shell in the Netherlands and the UK, and was later managing director of a subsidiary of Booker McConnell in Guyana. He joined the PhD programme at Harvard in 1965, and first taught there before moving to Manchester Business School in 1968 and London Business School as Professor in 1971, where he was the founding Chairman of the Strategic and International Management Area and became Emeritus Professor in 2006. He was also Visiting Professor at Wharton, MIT, Stockholm and Aoyama Gakuin (Tokyo).
John’s rich and varied background, coupled with his exacting training at Oxford, MIT and Harvard gave him a base on which to develop and exploit his intellect. He wrote more than 20 books and monographs and over 90 scholarly articles. His first book, Managing the Multinational Enterprise (with Louis Wells, 1972), became a best seller in the UK and USA; Rival States and Rival Firms (with Susan Strange, 1991) won the book prize at the Academy of Management in 1992; and Rejuvenating the Mature Business (published in 1994 with Charles Baden-Fuller) won several awards, was referenced more than 50,000 times in management texts and published in five languages. His most recent book, The Future of the Multinational Company (joint editor), was published in 2004. Each of these books developed a stream of thinking subsequently adopted into mainstream management research and practice. He was elected as one of the 25 Founding Fellows of the Strategic Management Society in the USA and was a Fellow of the Academy of International Business. A friend and colleague recalled that seeing John and his wife Sally together was such a delight that it became one of the main reasons for attending Academy of International Business meetings over the years.
John was also a senior staff member at the United Nations, served as non-executive director of Shell (UK) Ltd. and the Land Warfare Centre of the British Army, as Board Advisor to Vickers plc, as director of numerous small companies and on various UK Committees of Enquiry. He was founding Chairman of The Learning Partnership, a group of business thought leaders drawn from the world’s top business schools, pre-eminent consulting firms and Global 500 companies. He was a member of the Steering Committee and an Officer of the Order of St. John, a Governor of Goodenough College in London and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts. For many years he ran panels and served as a featured speaker at the World Economic Forum in Davos.
After his retirement, John remained active as a board-level consultant and coach for chief executives, as well as designer of board-level executive education programmes for many multinationals in the fields of strategy and international management. His services were retained by governments, including Brazil, Japan and Malaysia. Someone mourning him said the learning and coaching community had lost its exemplar – the one who mastered the complete range from full-power strategic advice, right through to “truly listening to the tiniest whisper of what the client wanted inside.”
Beyond his professional legacy John will be remembered for his extraordinary care for others, as a teacher, colleague and friend.
As a teacher he brought outstanding enthusiasm and dedication to the classroom, where he sought to explain with case studies and up-to date data how companies (and governments) worked and could do better. Yet he was also realistic, his classes often erupted in mirth when he told his students of the follies of managers. He never gave the same lecture twice. Each time he taught a case, he discovered a new angle. Former students recall that John always wanted to know what they thought – but having heard it, he would immediately challenge it. This was sometimes frustrating but always exhilarating. A colleague remembers driving with John on a Sunday evening to open a week-long executive workshop. On the way to the venue, John would be learning the names and backgrounds of every participant so that he could greet them and form an immediate personal connection.
After inspiring a group of MBAs for three hours, he would often rush into the lunch room at London Business School and, with breathtaking enthusiasm, engage his colleagues at the faculty table in thinking about some topical problem faced by a multinational company. The outpourings of his many collaborators in and around London Business School were enormous, but he took care to read them all. He would tell people when he liked what they wrote; and more often, with his ironic brand of British humour, he told them where he disagreed with it – or why he liked some parts but not others. But this did not stop him from urging people to publish. He was consistently encouraging to his juniors, renowned for his passion in their seminars. As a magnet for those who shared his commitment to put ideas into practice, he brought great talent to London Business School, including John Kay, Gary Hamel, Sumantra Ghoshal, Costas Markides and Julian Birkinshaw.
His friends remember him as the most wonderful intellectual companion, sometimes at concerts or galleries as he loved music and the arts; and he was just as good company on a long walk or on his many mountain climbs – which included two Himalayan first ascents. But what he loved best was a glass of wine, an often unlit cigar and a good conversation, be it at his home in Primrose Hill or late at night in some foreign hotel bar. A conversation with John was always a journey with interesting detours and, all of a sudden, amazing vistas.
Despite a long and debilitating illness, John continued his professional activities until his final week, commenting on a recent book on strategy, reading a paper that a colleague had sent him and consulting with a couple of firm leaders who valued his enormous wisdom and insights in all matters regarding multinational enterprise. Friends and colleagues recall his unfailing courtesy even at the hardest times: how he would insist on getting out of his bed and accompanying them all the way to the elevators at his hospital floor. They also recall his undimmed mordant wit: his parting words to one were, “Don’t get cancer. It’s not fun.” Friends remember how John would look them in the eye, and tell them precisely what was happening with his illness if they needed to know; his kindness and courtesy meant he didn’t belabour others with the truth, but in himself he would never avoid it. Another friend observed admiringly how John was reading, talking, listening, debating, learning, and expostulating right to the end.
John is survived by Sally, their two sons and four grandchildren.
John Stopford, educator, died on 13th August 2011
(reproduced with the kind permission of the London Business School)