Tumid.
I stumbled across this gem of a word recently while I was looking at an old translation of the Hebrew word for “proud” (`aphal) from a passage in the biblical writings of the prophet Habakkuk (2:4). When used anatomically, tumid means “swollen, distended, of a bulging shape or protuberant” from the Latin word “tumidus” derived from ”tumēre,” “to swell.” The Latin root is also the source of our word “tumor.” When used to refer to speech the word means inflated, pompous, or bombastic. How about “orotund” for another related beauty from the Latin word “ore,” or “mouth,” and “rotundo” “to make round.” It’s a good facial expression if you’re singing. Probably a bit pretentious if you’re not. These words have become illustrative of the current state of American politics.
Faith is one of the cardinal principles of leadership. The leader must be able to cast a vision and believe in something he or she cannot see; something that’s bigger than self or an organization. In addition to believing, the leader must also be believable so that others will see and believe the vision as well. This is where truth comes in.
Vision requires a balance between faith and the senses; between hope and the stark reality of the way things really are. One of the earliest lessons I learned in the practice of medicine was the tension between realism and optimism. It was reinforced repeatedly over decades in the practice of pediatric intensive care. The job of the clinician is to find the balance between hope and reality; to be honest about the risks and potential negative outcomes in a patient’s course but at the same time to recognize that there are almost always reasons for hope. Both are true and both are needed.
Leaders face the same dilemma, a tension that author Jim Collins called “The Stockdale Paradox,” based on lessons Medal of Honor awardee Admiral James Stockdale learned as a prisoner of war in Vietnam. “This is a very important lesson.” Stockdale told Collins in an interview for the book Good to Great. “You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end—which you can never afford to lose—with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.“ He told Collins, “I never lost faith in the end of the story. I never doubted not only that I would get out, but also that I would prevail in the end and turn the experience into the defining event of my life, which, in retrospect, I would not trade.”
The leader must seek and believe truth while balancing optimism and realism. As an example, when I helped lead a federal medical facility during the 2013 Sequestration our message was to acknowledge the awful betrayal these public servants felt toward the government and the potential impact on their lives of losing 20% of their income. At the same time we tried in every meeting to recognize the incredible sacrifices they made for our patients. We told them we believed the crisis would see a prompt end because of their commitment and the relationship they shared with the families they served . We were right. It ended quickly.
But what if I had lied? What if I had told them something that I knew was untrue or something that they could easily ave confirmed as disingenuous? How would my words of praise or promise have been interpreted then? I suppose that out of loyalty they might have ignored the lies, or convinced themselves of the truth of something that any objective person could confirm was untrue. But thinking people would have seen through it. They would have known that what I was saying in my weekly town hall gatherings and frequent emails was tumid: bombast, hot air, empty promises without substance.
We must be thinking people; sensitive to the difference tumid and true when evaluating our leaders or when considering those whom we would chose to lead us, just as we do in our own leadership practice.
For the leader, neither volume nor verbosity can replace veracity.
Chuck Callahan Henry V 4.3 – Lead from the Front https://henryv43.wordpress.com/
Henry V 4.3 