I've managed over 1,000 people in 30 years.

Yes you read that right.

And here's exactly what I've learned in sixteen lessons.

Well...

Not directly 1,000, more like a few hundred who managed all the others.

But, yeah, I occasionally stretch the truth (which you should do, lesson #1) and I like to maybe sometimes go around or down or under or sideways or whatever one might call it, and manage the manager's managee directly. 

Which doesn't discount my management capacity any, mind you. Rather that sometimes, as a leader, the chain of command is pointless and as indirect as insurrection (lesson #2). And sometimes it's your job to be present for anyone and everyone, no matter who they are in the company (lesson #2A).

As for the people I manage directly, I've learned that micromanagement is both a sin and a blessing. And mostly micromanagement gets a bad rap (lesson #3).

That's right, because it's my way or the highway (lesson #4), and many of your direct reports will begin their journey without knowing what highway they are on. So, sure, you need to, well, pave the way. And yeah, sometimes that looks like doing things for them, setting the pace, defining what great looks like, before you can let go and, well, direct them to the on ramp to them doing it themselves.

So, micromanage, but then don't (lesson #5). How easy is that?

Here's an important truth: every leader is afraid of losing that one amazing employee, that 100x talent, that 'someone who you would be sunk without'.  Yeah, that individual leaving? Scarier than two bats eating a spider that's being swallowed by a snake.

Two lessons here, the first of which is you are entirely right to fear this. One great talent can make or break a business. And like a scent trap for Japanese Beetles, these individuals attract other great talent. They also see around corners, and they make magic happen. Which means, Do. Not. Lose. Them. At. All. Costs. Really. (lesson #6).

That said, sh¡t man, everyone is replaceable (lesson #7). Gaps fill in, businesses move on. That superstar who mews like a cat whose paw was pricked by a porcupine, who b*îtches and moans about this or that, who tires you out, whose elbows are sharp, who sucks out the soul of everyone around them, yeah you should just get rid of them.

Fire away, and fire fast, because time matters. You can't live in fear of someone leaving (lesson #8).

But also...sometimes genius comes with quirks, so maybe just deal with them for a bit, because it's usually worth it (lesson #9).

Ever consider that we otten find ourselves with great talent who isn't really doing the job they were hired for? They're over there making sand castles in some other sandbox, while the results of their actual job is like a mudpie made from standing rainwater. Too often our fear is about other team members ('what will people think if they leave?'), even if this particular scallywag isn't delivering the results you need. 

Ask yourself, are they on the right bus (bought into the vision) in the right seat (fit for the job you need)? Well, if your star employee can't sit in the right seat, you should shove them off at the next bus stop (lesson #10).

I've learned that there are four types of people:  eagles (tough and direct), parrots (extroverted, fun, chatty Cathy's), owls (analytical, probably look good in bi-focals) and doves (empathetic feelers of human emotions).

(all this h/t exec coach Bob Radin who got this from someone else, just look on Youtube, ok?)

I've learned that I'm an eagle and some people will follow me into trenches filled with dirt and bones and gloopy stuff with a scent you can't even describe - other people will tire of me, like owls who find my lack of detail annoying and doves who I sometimes offend with my grit (lesson #11, but more for me than you).

Mostly I've learned that you should know who you are, and you should know what others are, to communicate effectively.  So if you are an eagle and want them to stop talking you can either (a) tell them to shut up to their face (eagles); (b) just cut them off mid-sentence (parrots); (c) say nothing because they are too distracted thinking (owls); (d) whisper sweetly, as if doing a podcast in AMSR for feet pics (doves). (lesson #12)

Radin - PS, get a coach (lesson #13) - also taught me that you should evaluate all of your talent on two scales:

Readiness (1-5): are they skilled to do the job.

Willingness (1-5): are they willing to do that job.

What Radin didn't say is what I've learned in practice: If they are ready but unwilling, slap them (metaphorically, not literally, lest HR find out). And if they are willing but not ready, offer them an online training module and a basket of cookies (you don't really need the cookies but it's a nice touch).  You could also micromanage the crap out of them until they get it (see lesson #5).

So what's the neat little bow to tie all these lessons up?  Well really that management is like double jeopardy, but this isn't a murder trial so that doesn't matter (lesson #14).

Maybe it's more like a dichotomy or a series of maybes and that as much as you determine a path, you can and should seesaw, so that no single employee can be sure what you're thinking at any time (lesson #15).

Keep them guessing, I say. 

But do so with clear conviction. And never, ever, let them see you sweat.

(I paid Gillette $8 to use that line in print, so, bang for my buck, I might as well say that's lesson #16, and I do hope you got your money's worth)