Principle – The mastery of self control will be witnessed by others as a strength, not a weakness.

Even at age eighty, Quig’s grip was more than firm. He had the ability to bring a grimace to anyone who shook hands with him. We used to climb on his back while he did push ups and arm wrestle with the mistaken idea that in your teens and twenties you were stronger than someone in his 40s and 50s. We were wrong. Quig was strong. But his strength was not witnessed through boasting, ranting, and raving. It was seen through mastery he had in himself.

Perhaps the greatest witness of this strength would shine through when the going got tough. Even when his face turned red as he struggled to get Old Chub, his trusted horse, to trailer up, no curse words would pass through his lips. He was in control of himself. It was as though he were first witnessing the event, and then responding to the situation, rather than reacting.

This pattern seemed to hold through his entire life. In their latter years, Audrey was driving home from an assignment while Quig slept. Audrey must have dozed off momentarily and went off the road, veered back on the road, and then off again, causing the car to flip and roll. When the car finally came to a stop, Q&A were both dangling upside down from their seat belts as the car rested on its top against a fence. Quig, with a very clear voice said, “Are you okay? You over corrected a little didn’t you?” I can only imagine what someone who is not in self control might have done and said at that moment.

Both Q&A used an approach to communication that included a pause before responding. I assume that is where I got the same habit. In some discussions around the table in our home, a question would get asked. As I pondered how to respond, it was not unusual to have one of the kids say “Dad, are you with us?” This same pattern held in discussions with friends, colleagues at work, interviews with the media, discussions with congressional members, and in discussions with employees. On one occasion in a leadership team meeting, a colleague commented that we need to give Tom a little more time because his mind operates at 110 baud rather than 64K baud.

I recall walking off the football field as a junior in high school cursing along with many of the other players as we felt the sting of defeat. My older brother, Lewis, the quarterback, came around the row of lockers to where I was carrying on, put his finger in my chest, and said, “There is no reason for you to use language like that!” I felt small, not only because I knew better, but because I had failed to follow Quig’s and my brother’s example. I vowed that day to never swear again. I never used those words again.

To this day people witness me delaying my response. I think about what I should say. I apply logic and reason before I react. I am confident I owe this to Q&A.

I had a boss who would use foul language, apparently in an effort to show his reaction and provide emphasis. It was known that I did not want to be around that type of language. Whenever my boss would be in his office being very vocal and using foul language, I would simply enter his office and stand in the back. With few exceptions, the tone would calm down and foul language would cease. I would not have to say anything. My presence was a calming influence. I did not have to preach nor be obnoxious to get that outcome. In fact, I believe I would not have achieved that degree of change in outcome if I had been preachy or obnoxious.

The pressure was high during the ICBEMP’s long hours, tough discussions, and intense pressure. Often others would start to swear about something that another member of the team would do or say. Someone on the team would typically say “Tom doesn’t like that kind of language.” Or I might say, “We can have our discussions without that kind of language.” The team leaders started a bet that before the project was over, Tom would resort to swearing. At one particularly tense meeting, tempers were beginning to flare. I allowed the discussions to go on, perhaps a little too long, then I said with a louder than usual voice, “I’m going to be a butthead about this and stop the discussion now.” The room grew instantly silent, Lynn Decker, one of the team leaders said, “That’s it. He swore. Butthead is a swear word.” Of course I tried to assure them that butthead is not a swear word. About a week later at another team meeting, Lynn presented me with a “butthead” hat. It consisted of a pair of baby briefs (underpants) complete with leg holes, front fly, and an attached visor with the word “Butthead” emblazed in bold letters. Whenever the going got tough in team meetings I would pull out my butthead hat, put it on my head, and the tension would immediately begin to leave the room.

On one particularly bad day in the life of the ICBEMP project, bad news spread like wildfire through the teams. Jeff Blackwood, the leader for the management side of the project in Walla Walla, was away attending a funeral for a family member. I was briefing several of the collaborators to the project at a site several blocks from our office. Kathy Campbell, from the communications team entered the briefing room and quickly made her way to my side at the head of the room. She said in a very certain tone that I was needed immediately back at the office. I said “Now?” She said, “Yes, now.” I excused myself, told the group I would get back to them later and left with Kathy. She swept me quickly into her car and told me the story as she drove quickly back to the office. I have little doubt that if Jeff had been there, he would have handled the situation without seeking my involvement. But Jeff was not there. In fact it appeared as though no one was acting calm and no one was exercising leadership. I asked Kathy to get on the PA system and ask everyone to come to the large conference room now. I quickly discovered that several of the team members had already left the building vowing not to return to the project. Rumors had spread like lightening and the mood in the office was very grim.

It did not take long before the conference room had a crowd. I reassured everyone that we would weather this storm, there was no need to panic, that their work was valued, and that I would get to the bottom of the issues quickly. I then opened it up for discussion and questions. We spent about an hour or two going over the events of the day, what our assignment was, and how we could succeed. Two of the key players walked out before I got there. They never came back to the project. I suspect nothing I might have said could have stopped them, but there were many who were in the process of packing up their offices that day who remained faithfully on the project after our discussions in the conference room. That day became known in the project as “Black Friday”. Many team members expressed to me that it was my calming influence and acts of self control that contained the damage. It could easily have been the end of the project on that day.

Displays of anger or shouting were not part of our upbringing. In fact, it was well known that Q&A would sit you across the kitchen table from them as they would point out how disappointed they were in our actions. There was never any doubt about it when we had done something wrong. But there was never a belt, shouting match, slap, or hit – Q&A were in control of their emotions, words, and actions. Indeed we knew they had self control. Many times I thought it would have been much less painful to have been whipped than to witness their pain as they shared their disappointment with us. We knew they were strong.

One of my best friends in Kanosh had very different experiences growing up in his home. He would tell me on a day when we were both caught in some mischief that he would get a whipping with the belt when he got home. I think his father was convinced that it was fear that he needed to instill in his boys to get the level of obedience he sought. While it is true that fear was the motivator in his home, the boys found ways to avoid getting caught in mischievousness more than they learned self control from their father.

I learned that it is not easy to stay in control all the time. Kerry and I went through a period when our oldest two boys were swatted on the butt. We were not proud then and we are not proud now of the times we used that form of discipline. For our youngest two kids we were more patient and understanding. I don’t recall giving them swats like we did the older boys, although Kerry reminds me that occasionally we may have a selective memory on things like this. I don’t recall any single event or even the year when we stopped using swats on the butt, but we did stop doing it. At times now we see our own children getting out of patience with their children and it dredges up those times when we were less than patient with our children. It is hard to be patient all the time, but I am convinced now that it is worth it.

Bottom Line – Others see your displays of anger as a weakness, a manifestation that you lack self control. When you demonstrate self control others will see it as strength.