It kind of flew under the radar, but back around 2010 Google ran an internal study called Project Aristotle, trying to figure out what actually made their best teams outperform the rest. It (of course) involved data analysis of not just their own internal teams, but teams outside of Google, across business, sports and creative arenas. They expected to find it came down to talent, or tenure, or some clever mix of skills, or maybe the best teams had one particular star carrying the weight. Instead, the single biggest factor was something they ended up calling “psychological safety.” The teams that performed best were the ones where people felt safe speaking up, disagreeing, admitting a mistake, or challenging an idea without fear of being punished or embarrassed for it. You can read about it in detail here and there are many case studies on it, but an example that stands out is a comparison of two different medical clinics, where the benchmark for success was the fewest possible accuracy and process errors. One of the clinics had a very “buttoned up” and rigid culture, the other with more of an open culture of ongoing dialogue and progress. The “buttoned up” clinic, who looked great on the surface had far more errors than the other; the reason being they were afraid to make an error for fear of being “singled out,” and thus would sweep errors under the rug and pretend they didn’t happen, leading to a bad chain of events. Meanwhile the other culture, they would admit it immediately, make the fix and it was unlikely to happen again.
There’s a story about Miles Davis that gets at the same idea from a completely different direction. Davis was known for being bluntly honest with the musicians in his band, and he expected the same honesty back. His guitarist John McLaughlin once said of him, “He never told you what to play. He would throw you curveballs to make you think about it. He always wanted to get your honest response. He was the most blunt, honest person I ever met.”
Notice what Davis wasn’t doing. He wasn’t handing out sheet music and demanding it be played note for note. He was creating a space where honest, sometimes uncomfortable, creative response was not just allowed but expected.
Sales teams work the same way. You can manage a process. You can hand someone a call flow chart and a set of stage checkpoints, pull out a rubric and rigidly hold them accountable. Anytime this is the approach, usually the result in return is compliance. Reps start doing the minimum just to “check the box.” Compliance becomes so paramount that the actual goal of sales revenue ends up taking a backseat to process compliance. What you don’t get is a rep who tells you honestly that a deal is dying, or that the pitch isn’t landing, the client doesn’t seem as engaged or that they disagree with the approach, because they don’t feel safe saying so. The vicious cycle then begins, usually in the form of overweighted pipelines, missed forecasts and beyond.
Salespeople don’t need to be managed into following steps. They need to be led into thinking for themselves and finding their voice, the same way Davis pushed his band, with honesty going both directions. That’s the real difference between a manager and a leader. One builds compliance. The other builds a team that will actually tell you the truth in order to make real, actual progress towards the goal and leveraging everyones unique strengths.