
The Bible exhorts us to love our neighbors. But what about our colleagues? Do we really need to love the people we work with?
In an era of mandated sexual harassment training and lawsuits over the smallest provocation, bringing up the idea of love in the workplace gives the folks in Human Resources the shakes.
What does it mean to "love others?" Beloved UCLA coach John Wooden, who passed away this past June, won 81 percent of the games he coached and garnered 10 NCAA titles in 27 years. In his memoirs, Wooden called love “the most powerful thing there is." He said he did not always like the men he coached, but that he loved each one. How did they know? Nearly every one of them graduated from college. Wooden demanded excellence on the court and off. He did not spare the discipline, but also shared the joy and exhilaration of a great game, won or lost.
Wooden's approach matches that of the 6th century BCE Chinese general Sun Tzu, who wrote in his The Art of War that if a great military leader treats his soldiers “as his own beloved sons,” then “they will stand by him until death.” If we apply this insight to the art of business instead of war, we could say that if a wise manager behaves in a fatherly or motherly way toward employees, then those workers will provide the best service possible no matter what the conditions.
Simple, right? Why doesn't this happen more often?
I was in a big-box home improvement store recently and waited more than 10 minutes for a clerk to get the price on an item that was missing a price tag. I complained when I saw the returning clerk sauntering slowly back to the cash register, chatting with another employee while my young daughter and I dutifully waited. Funny thing — that store’s employees there all wore aprons boasting, “We put the customer first.” As a customer, I was not feeling loved.
What I mean is this: the essence of love is putting someone else's needs above your own. This is the critical aspect of the service economy (why haven't airlines figured this out?). And yet, we often shy away from saying to those around us that we love them. This is due, in part, to the multiple kinds of love. Because English has only one word for love, we Anglophones sometimes have difficulty making ourselves understood when we talk about love. I am speaking of philia here, the word used by the ancient Greeks to indicate a virtuous love that entails familial loyalty and fidelity to the community; the word means “friendship” in modern Greek. Because I take philia seriously, I make it a point to tell those around me that I love them, including those I work with. And I hug them. This has earned me the nickname “Dr. Love.”
Don’t miss my point: love is not a squishy concept that gives us a warm, fuzzy feeling. Love is something revealed and expressed through actions. You experience love through what people do, not what they say. I love you when I care for you, even when caring is difficult. That is the experience I want when I fly or shop. I don’t want empty, feel-good slogans. Don’t tell me you value me. Show me the philia.
This approach seems to work for me as an organization leader: reveal love and hope that it will be reciprocated. It usually is. I ask all those who work for me how what they are doing now will lead them to a new job. Even if they never move, I want them to know they always can, and that I support this because I care for them, and want what’s best for them. I don’t think it’s an accident that few of my employees have left.
This management strategy is not merely common sense; it’s also based in science. The biological basis for philia is also the foundation for trust. My research has shown that both depend on the brain chemical oxytocin. When others show us trust, the release of oxytocin in the brain motivates us to reciprocate. Oxytocin makes us empathic, helping us to understand how others feel. Exercising empathy is the best way to understand what an employee, a colleague, a customer or anybody else wants or needs.
Expressing love in the workplace need not be manipulative. Customers report greater satisfaction when they trust those who serve them. I want to love my dry cleaner, and I want her to love me. And I think she does. How do I know? She always asks if I have any broken buttons that need to be replaced, and when I do, she replaces them for free. I love her, and have no idea anymore what I pay to get my clothes cleaned. I’m a loyal patron of her shop not only because she gives me good service, but because I know she cares about me personally. When you give love, it comes back to you — even literally, every time a faithful customer walks back through the doors of your business.
Faking love in the office or in the retail aisles will not do. We are all adept at picking out unctuous simulators, those false friends who fake philia for the sake of a sale. You have to really mean it — and you have to mean it every time. Once lost, philia between manager and employees, or merchant and customers, is hard to regain.
To be sure, active philia is no guarantee of successful business leadership. A well-known and popular bishop was famous for his charity towards his flock, and because of his tender care, refused to make painful decisions to close church institutions when revenues declined. It fell to his successor — a bishop regarded by the public, perhaps unfairly, as unfeeling — to make the unpopular decisions that his predecessor’s intemperate philia made necessary.
It isn’t often, however, that a business or a workplace suffers from too much philia. The opposite condition is far more common, and it usually affects the bottom line. A science-minded manager who finds her sales lagging or his office culture dysfunctional would do well to think about how much oxytocin their customers and employees have sloshing around their brains. If there is little love in the workplace, the dearth of oxytocin will have an effect on the corporate bottom line. Especially in tough economic times, some managers may believe that love in the workplace is a luxury they can’t afford. They may find that the cost of hard-hearted or indifferent management can be counted in dollars and cents.
Paul J. Zak is professor of economics and department chair, as well as the founding director of the Center for Neuroeconomics Studies at Claremont Graduate University. Dr. Zak also serves as professor of neurology at Loma Linda University Medical Center, and is author of the forthcoming The Moral Molecule: Vampire Economics and the New Science of Good and Evil.