First Things First

by Stephen R. Covey

While you can be efficient with things, you can’t be efficient— effectively—with people.

As Albert Einstein said: The significant problems we face cannot be solved by the same level of thinking that created them.

“The unexamined life is not worth living,” observed Plato.

Anything less than a conscious commitment to the important is an unconscious commitment to the unimportant.

Urgency addiction is a self-destructive behavior that temporarily fills the void created by unmet needs.

As Oliver Wendell Holmes said, “I wouldn’t give a fig for the simplicity on this side of complexity; I would give my right arm for the simplicity on the far side of complexity.”

“Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.

Humility truly is the mother of all virtues. It makes us a vessel, a vehicle, an agent instead of “the source” or the principal. It unleashes all other learning, all growth and process. With

It’s easy to say “no!” when there’s a deeper “yes!” burning inside.

VIKTOR Frankl, an Austrian psychologist who survived the death camps of Nazi Germany, made a significant discovery. As he found within himself the capacity to rise above his humiliating circumstances, he became an observer as well as a participant in the experience. He watched others who shared in the ordeal. He was intrigued with the question of what made it possible for some people to survive when most died. He looked at several factors—health, vitality, family structure, intelligence, survival skills. Finally, he concluded that none of these factors was primarily responsible. The single most significant factor, he realized, was a sense of future vision—the impelling conviction of those who were to survive that they had a mission to perform, some important work left to do.1

The power of transcendent vision is greater than the power of the scripting deep inside the human personality and it subordinates it, submerges it, until the whole personality is reorganized in the accomplishment of that vision.

Viktor Frankl said we don’t invent our mission; we detect it. It’s within us waiting to be realized.

Nineteenth-century social reformer and writer William Ellery Channing had this to say: Every human being has a work to do, duties to perform, influence to exert, which are peculiarly his, and which no conscience but his own can teach.

The key to motivation is motive.

It’s not enough to have values without vision—you want to be good, but you want to be good for something. On the other hand, vision without values can create a Hitler.

As Gandhi observed, “One man cannot do right in one department of life whilst he is occupied in doing wrong in any other department. Life is one indivisible whole.”2

Socrates observed that “over whatever a man may preside, he will if he knows what he needs, and is able to provide it, be a good president, whether he have the direction of a chorus, a family, a city, or an army. . . . Do not, therefore . . . despise men skillful in managing a household; for the conduct of private affairs differs from that of public concerns only in magnitude.”

As Viktor Frankl discovered in the death camps of Nazi Germany: We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way. And there were always choices to make. Every day, every hour, offered the opportunity to make a decision, a decision which determined whether you would or would not submit to those powers which threatened to rob you of your very self, your inner freedom; which determined whether or not you would become the plaything of circumstance. . . .‘

Wisdom is learning all we can, but having the humility to realize that we don’t know it all.

As psychologist David Meyers points out in his book The Pursuit of Happiness, study after study shows that those who have this bigger picture orientation in their lives are happier, more satisfied, contributing people. He points out that, contrary to popular belief, some form of religious faith or meaning-of-life convictions are characteristic of happy people, and that people involved in religious activity to the point of making financial contributions are by far the biggest contributors to other philanthropic endeavors.

“People seem not to see,” said Emerson, “that their opinion of the world is also a confession of character.”

“What I like about experience,” wrote C. S. Lewis, “is that it is such an honest thing. . . . You may have deceived yourself, but experience is not trying to deceive you. The universe rings true wherever you fairly test it.”

Father of modern stress research Hans Selye compares the independent achievement focus to “the development of a cancer, whose most characteristic feature is that it cares only for itself. Hence, it feeds on the other parts of its own host until it kills the host—and thus commits biological suicide, since a cancer cell cannot live except within the body in which it started its reckless, egocentric development.”2 To some extent, as a society, we’re on a ladder that’s leaning against the wrong wall. We’re living with the illusion of independence, but the paradigm is not creating the quality-of-life results we desire.

The late W. Edwards Deming, considered by many to be the leading voice of the Total Quality Movement, said that the majority of the problems in organizations are with systems, not people.

Stephen: Recently in a large group a man said to me, “Stephen, how do we get principle-centered leadership into the Congress?” I said, “How do you treat your wife?” “What’s that got to do with it?” he demanded. I said, “Ultimately, public policy is private morality writ large.” He flushed at that and didn’t say another word. Thinking I had offended him, I went up to him afterward to apologize. “I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to do that. But I really believe in the inside-out approach. ” “It’s not that you offended me,” he said. “But what you said hit home! All my life I’ve tended to blame other people out there for injustices. And I know I’ve taken out my frustrations on my loved ones. For you to put your finger on that problem hit me hard. But I needed to hear it. ” Ultimately, there’s no such thing as “organizational behavior”; it’s all behavior of the people in the organization.

As we mentioned earlier, Gandhi once observed that “a person cannot do right in one department of life whilst attempting to do wrong in another department. Life is one indivisible whole.”

Trust is the glue of life. It’s the most essential ingredient in effective communication. It’s the foundational principle that holds all relationships—marriages, families, and organizations of every kind—together. And trust grows out of trustworthiness.

Control is such an illusion. People who are into control have basically internalized sufficient principles or natural laws of life so that they think they are the ones making things happen. But it’s really their obedience to those natural laws and principles that makes things happen. This may work at a fairly low level of contribution and in transactional partnership networking and interdependencies.

SUPPOSE one of us were to challenge you to an arm wrestle. The objective is to win as much as you can. The time limit is 60 seconds, and we have an observer who has agreed to give the winner a dime whenever one of us gets the other one down. We’re poised and ready for action. Now suppose, for the sake of the example, that we immediately get you down. But instead of keeping you there, we immediately release the pressure and let you get us down. We quickly respond and go for another down. Out of habit, you resist. You want to win. Your muscles are strained, your brows are furrowed in concentration. But in the midst of the struggle, it suddenly occurs to you that each of us now has a dime. If you were to give us another win, and we gave you another win, and you gave us another win . . . we’d both end up winning a whole lot more. So we work together, going back and forth, back and forth quickly—and in 60 seconds we each make three dollars instead of one of us settling for ten cents. This is the essence of win-win: in almost all situations, cooperation is far more productive than competition. The lesson isn’t that we take turns losing—you’re on top one minute; we’re on top the next. It’s that between us is the ability to work together to achieve far more than either of us could on our own.

As Gandhi said, “Three-fourths of the miseries and misunderstandings in the world will disappear if we step into the shoes of our adversaries and understand their standpoint.”

In the words of Martin Buber, “Only men who are capable of truly saying Thou [an attitude of deep respect] to one another can truly say we with one another.”

Frustration is essentially a function of expectation. Clarifying interdependent expectations up front does a great deal to contribute to quality of life.

The point is that when the problem is before you instead of between you, you avoid generating negative cycles in a critical relationship that could take months or years to resolve, and this powerfully affects time and quality of life for everyone involved.

Anytime we think the problem is “out there” that thought is the problem.

While management works in the system, leadership works on the system.

Roger asked each of the children to write three words on a piece of paper: continue, stop, and start. Then he said, “What are the things I’m now doing you’d like to see me continue to do? What would you like to see me stop doing? What would you like to see me start doing that I’m not doing now?” I had to admit I admired his courage.

Hold people accountable for results, not methods.

“Accomplishing tasks through people” is a different paradigm than “building people through the accomplishment of tasks.” With one, you get things done. With the other, you get them done with far greater creativity, synergy, and effectiveness . . . and in the process, you build the capacity to do more in the future as well.

One day, I was sitting in a company meeting where people were discussing important policies that could have a significant negative impact on the environment. As I sat there, I came to the realization that, while I felt very strongly about these issues, I was essentially silent. “Why?” I asked myself. “Why am I afraid to open my mouth? When I was hired into this company from the outside years ago, I had no fear. I openly expressed my feelings and concerns. I was confident. I felt I could act with integrity. What’s made the difference?” As I thought about it, I realized that since that time, I had acquired substantial retirement benefits. I’d bought a new home. I was making payments on a new boat. Essentially, I didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize my economic security. I realized the “golden handcuffs” held me bound. At that point, I made two resolutions: to get my financial affairs in order and build up some reserves, and to continually improve my marketability. I never again wanted to be in a position where my integrity was compromised by my dependence on a job. This manager reported that he later walked into a staff meeting, handed each person a newspaper, and told them to turn to the want ads. “Look them over,” he said. “See if any of the jobs that are advertised look better than the one you presently have.” They did, and many of them found jobs that looked really good. “All right,” he said. “Go check them out. See if you can qualify for those jobs. Come bac...

We know not of the future, and cannot plan for it much. But we can hold our spirits and our bodies so pure and high, we may cherish such thoughts and such ideals, and dream such dreams of lofty purpose, that we can determine and know what manner of men we will be whenever and wherever the hour strikes that calls to noble action. ... No man becomes suddenly different from his habit and cherished thought. —Joshua L. Chamberlain, General

At the root, the problem is that many of our expectations come from scripting, the personality ethic, or the social mirror instead of true north. They’re flawed paradigms. They’re not based on the fundamental Laws of Life.

Life is difficult. This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths. It is a great truth because once we truly see this truth, we transcend it. Once we know that life is difficult—then life is no longer difficult. Because once it is accepted, the fact that life is difficult no longer matters. If our expectation is that there will be challenge, then challenge does not create frustration. For another example, many of us expect other people to agree with us, to carry out what we feel should be done. When others disagree with us, when they have questions or concerns, when they don’t enthusiastically support our decisions, or when they come up with alternative ideas, we feel frustrated. What difference does it make when we expect people to see things differently, when we value that difference, when we anticipate the synergistic use of human endowments to create third-alternative solutions? Unmet expectations create frustration, but our expectations are within our control. We’re not talking about lowering our expectations, but about basing them on the realities of true north. One of the richest areas for elminating much of the frustration we experience in our lives is to examine our expectations. Whenever we feel frustrated, we can go back to the root of the problem.

Recently, the Covey Leadership Center participated with our local PBS station in making available to the Public Broadcasting System a video dramatization we developed and filmed in England. The central figure in this remarkable story is an Englishman who transcended a childhood spent as a street urchin to become a reasonably successful writer with a nice home and a loving family. At the time of the story, however, he had reached a point where he was experiencing “writer’s block.” For some time, he had been unable to feel inspired in his writing. It seemed his creativity had turned off. His debts were mounting. He was under tremendous pressure from the publisher. He was becoming more and more depressed with a growing fear that his own children would end up on the streets like so many he saw around . . . like he, himself, had as a youth. He was discouraged. He couldn’t sleep. He began to spend his nights walking the streets of London. He saw the poverty, the inhumane conditions of children working nights in the factories, the terrible struggle of parents trying to eke out a living for their families. Gradually, the full reality of what he was seeing began to hit him—the impact of selfishness and greed and those who would take advantage of others. An idea touched his heart and began to grow in his mind. There was something he could do that would make a difference! He returned to his writing with an energy and enthusiasm he had never known. The vision of contribution impassion...

Stephen: At one time when I was working at a university, I had the privilege of hosting a prominent psychologist and former president of a national psychological association. This man was considered the father of “integrity therapy, ” a method of psychological treatment based on the idea that peace of mind, true happiness, and balance are a function of living a life of integrity to conscience. He believed that conscience tapped into the universal sense of right and wrong common to all enduring cultures, religions, and societies throughout time. One afternoon between lectures, I drove him into the mountains to see the breathtaking views. I took the opportunity to ask him how he came to believe in integrity therapy. He said, “It was very personal. I was a manic-depressive and most of my whole life had been a series of highs and lows. Over time, as I counseled people, I would begin to feel stressed and very vulnerable. I would start slipping into depression—almost to the point where I wanted to take my life. I had enough awareness of what was happening because of my professional education and my professional activity, that I knew I was dangerous. At this point, I would institutionalize myself to preclude taking my life. After a month or two, I could come out and go back into my work. Then, after a year or so, I would slip back into it, hospitalize myself, and gradually come back to go on with my research and writing. ” He continued, “At one point when I was president of the a...

In the words of C. S. Lewis: Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man. ... It is the comparison that makes you proud; the pleasure of being above the rest.

As C. S. Lewis observed, “Pride is a spiritual cancer: it eats up the very possibility of love, or contentment, or even common sense.”

Most of us consider pride to be a sin of those on the top, such as the rich and the learned, looking down at the rest of us. There is, however, a far more common ailment among us—and that is pride from the bottom looking up. It is manifest in so many ways, such as fault-finding, gossiping, backbiting, murmuring, living beyond our means, envying, coveting, withholding gratitude and praise that might lift another, and being unforgiving and jealous. Pride is the essence of the scarcity mentality. It’s devastating to peace. It creates a false integrity of alignment with extrinsic things. And consider the cost! How much time and energy is spent worrying over who has the most, does the most, looks the best, lives in the best part of town, has the largest office, makes more money, does more work, is of the most value? When the cry of competition is louder than the whisper of conscience, what’s the impact in terms of really putting first things first in our lives? The antidote for the poison of pride is humility—the humility to realize that we’re not an island, that the quality of our lives is inseparably connected to the quality of the lives of others, that meaning is not in consuming and competing, but in contributing. We are not laws unto ourselves, and the more we begin to value principles and people, the greater will be our peace.

humility is truly the mother of all virtues,

As Gandhi said, “We must become the change we seek in the world.”