A Personal Case Study in Career Development – Part 2

In the previous blog post we recounted how it is possible to use a Haldane/Strong-inspired career direction plus a rudimentary decision criterion to launch a successful career development process.

That blog post also briefly cited the role of seeking out and then following career advice from mentors and others who have had successful careers and whose advice, therefore, is likely to be relevant and helpful to us.

“If you can tell the difference between good advice and bad advice, you don’t need advice.”
                                                                                                                                                     Anonymous

George W. Johnson had served as Chair of the English Department and was then promoted to dean of the College of Liberal Arts at Temple University.  I was interested in having a career like his and, when he offered me advice on how to do that, I was very much inclined to accept it—even when it seemed at first to be counterintuitive.  But because I respected him very much and, because his logic about not staying in the same academic department from which one earns a doctorate made sense to me, I wisely decided to follow his advice.  And his was not the only great advice I sought, followed and was fortunate to receive from other academic administrators at Temple University at that time.

“Always Play it Straight” – Richard Stavseth

Dr. Richard Stavseth, chair of the physics department and later associate dean of the college of liberal arts, often gave me life-changing advice during my 9 years (1963-72) at Temple University.  He patiently explained many things to me—about human nature, universities and life—things that went well beyond my naïve questions and observations that often prompted his clear and compelling explanations.

One of the most important lessons I learned from Dr. Stavseth, when I was in my early 20s and he was probably in his early 50s, was this: “Always play it straight.”  He gave me that advice after I mentioned rumors of a young department chair at the University who had reportedly given the president an ultimatum: “Promote me to full professor or I will resign my position as department chair.”  Stavseth confirmed the rumor but said the president responded with a letter saying “I accept your resignation.” This meant that the department chair in question would no longer be working at Temple University!

In the course of my 42-year career in higher education, I have often repeated the advice, “Always play it straight,” to countless students and hundreds of direct reports whom I was trying to mentor during that time.  There are many times in a person’s life when we must decide what course of action to take in a given difficult situation and, when emotions are raw and the stakes are high, there is often a temptation to do things that seem attractive at first glance but might in fact cause great harm to others or to us in the long term.  Richard Stavseth believed and taught that one must always do the right thing, and that it was always best to avoid deception of any kind on the very legitimate grounds that deception is always found out in the long run, which then undermines forever the reputation of the person who deceives.

“You don’t know what you don’t know” – Anonymous

Several people at Temple had told me that in his youth Stavseth had been an Olympic-caliber skier and badminton player.  In my youthful ignorance based on a few family picnics, I had never seen—and hence had no idea—that badminton could actually be a serious sport.  When I flaunted my ignorance one day by stating that badminton didn’t seem to offer much of an athletic challenge, Dr. Stavseth invited me to the gym to see how the sport of badminton was played.  I’m sure you can imagine the result.  Although 30 years younger than he, it only took him about twenty minutes to run me around the court until I was physically exhausted while he, on the other hand, had yet to produce his first bead of perspiration.   

There was no need for him to explain the lesson he taught me that day and, polite as ever, he didn’t even try.  That was my first encounter with the fundamental truth that “You don’t know what you don’t know” and, as a result of that episode, I’ve always wanted to learn more about things outside my direct, everyday experience.  That eye-opening lesson also taught me to be respectful of every person I would meet since it was likely they would know things I wouldn’t know, simply because their life experience was different from mine and taught them things that my life experience may not yet have taught me.