The Motivation Play

It’s a scene that’s hard to forget.

Midway through the 2013 film The Wolf of Wall Street, the main character – Jordan Belfort – stands in front of a set of office windows, facing dozens of his employees. Belfort – played by Leonardo DiCaprio – is sporting a fancy suit and has a microphone in his hands.

In a raucous speech that would make football coaches blush, Belfort extolls the trappings of wealth status. Then he implores the stockbrokers assembled before him to pick up the phone and start dialing.

The brokers roar voraciously, and then they get to work. They relentlessly push the stock of a fledgling shoe company on their clients.

The brokerage firm – Stratton Oakmont – makes a hefty profit on the inflated shares. The brokers get the trappings of wealth status. And their clients? They’re left in the cold when the smoke clears and the share price drops.

This might all seem like a cautionary tale. Perpetrating securities fraud rarely ends well — and it didn’t for Stratton Oakmont.

But while the tactics in the film have largely been shunned, the speech at the center of it all has not.

And that’s a problem.


Every few months or so, I tune into an all-company meeting on my work laptop.

The core of this meeting has become familiar. There are financial results. There’s a refresher on the company’s core values. There are updates from key business units.

And there’s always a motivational speech from leadership wrapping the proceedings.

Yes, this tenet from The Wolf of Wall Street has made its way to my company. We might not be trading in penny stocks — or profanity — like Stratton Oakmont. But the messaging is directionally similar.

You see, Jordan Belfort was onto something. He might not have held a fancy business degree or consulting accolades before starting his brokerage. But he knew that motivation was key to boosting business productivity.

Job titles and paychecks could only do so much to unlock achievement within Stratton Oakmont’s workforce. To get the most out of his employees, Belfort would need to inspire them, to cajole them, and to fire them up.

This understanding is what built the template for the motivation play that so many companies use today — mine included. By boosting the promise of productivity, the quarterly pump-up speech seems to be an all-around win for businesses.

But looks can be deceiving.


There was a time when work was primarily a transactional pursuit.

Employees would put in their 40 hours each week. And the company would reward them with a paycheck. If the employee stuck around for long enough, they’d get a gold watch at retirement and collect a posh pension.

Those days are long gone. Now, employees are looking for more than pay and stability from their vocation. They’re committed to making the most out of their work.

Many employees enter the workforce intrinsically motivated. They’re driven to make a difference, and they’re committed to maximizing their effort to satiate their desire.

The motivation play from companies would seem to pair well with this ethos. By adding extrinsic motivation to the mix, business leaders could inspire employees to believe in the collective mission at hand. Execute on that, and inspired employees could feel compelled to run through fire for the company.

Motivation proliferates. Productivity soars. Success abounds.

Read between the lines, though, and the implied picture is darker. By motivating their workforce to give more, company leaders are also saying they’re not currently doing enough.

Perhaps that would be a needed kick in the pants if employees weren’t trying their hardest. But in the new world of work, that’s rarely an issue.

And telling the intrinsically motivated to crank it up more can be problematic.

You see, contrary to popular belief, there is an upper bound on effort. We can only give so much before we give out.

The fruits of that effort can certainly accelerate. But such improvements take time to manifest.

So, telling a group of intrinsically motivated achievers to try harder and do more can be counterproductive. Slamming a hammer more vigorously into a concrete bunker wall will only do damage to the hammer.

Worse still, such directives can foster resentment. For while some of those giving these edicts rose through the ranks of their company to reach leadership, many did not.

That dissonance can degrade trust. So, when an outsider drops mandates on their adopted workforce, it can seem elitist — and lead to blowback.

Yes, the motivational play has plenty of cracks under the surface. And if they’re left to fester, those fissures can swallow a company whole.


How can I help you?

This is more than an opening prompt from a chatbot. It’s a core question on many company’s performance review forms.

I’ve encountered this question, or something like it, while filling out dozens of these reviews over the years. And while others might have called for higher pay, more guidance, or more perks, my response has remained consistent.

Provide me the tools to perform my role to the best of my ability.

This response is illustrative. Both of what the intrinsically motivated are looking for and of what their employers are loathe to provide.

Resources, you see, are costly. Software licenses, physical tools, and seminar registrations carry costs for a business — costs that might not directly correlate to increased revenue. It’s a losing financial equation that’s all too easy to nix.

The motivation play, on the other hand, is free. Firing up the troops unlocks the potential for more business, without the company spending a dime.

But the hidden costs are far from trivial. Broken trust and burnout in the wake of these initiatives can fuel attrition. And the endless clamor for more can lead achievers to ration their efforts; that way, they have that extra 5 percent to devote to the next motivation play.

I’d argue that these costs are plenty high. Likely steeper than those incurred while preparing employees for success in their roles.

It’s time for companies to realize this. To understand that motivation is not a commodity for them to peddle. And that the carrots and sticks can only go so far.

Workers are not racehorses, subject to the edicts of their trainers and jockeys. No, employees are free willed thinkers. Achievers who are often driven by intrinsic motivation.

They deserve better than raucous speeches. They deserve more than pleas to work harder. They deserve to be given the benefit of the doubt.

Let’s provide it.

Respecting Our Rivals

Competition is a hallmark of our society. We view our world in terms of winners and losers, haves and have-nots. The moment of truth is upon us in everything we do — for us to achieve our objective, someone else is likely going to fail at attaining it.

However, not all competitions are viewed as equal. Rivalries stand apart on the playing field, in the political arena and in our neighborhood.

Whether due to proximity or competitive spirit, rivalries are notably intense — so much so that foiling a rival’s objective is seemingly more important than obtaining what both sides so desperately seek. As such, angry words are often exchanged and lines are drawn in the sand. No wonder unaffiliated commentators often describe the conflict as “good, old fashioned hate.”

Yes, rivalries are quite the spectacle. We’re drawn to them because they get us hot under the collar. Some would even say they’re a necessary emotional outlet.

But all too often, they go too far.

Recently, the emotional tensions of rivalries have been at least partially responsible for the savage beating of a San Francisco Giants fan in the Dodger Stadium parking lot and the contentious post-election rallies both for and against President-Elect Donald Trump. Going back even further, the Hatfield-McCoy feud wiped out a substantial portion of each family — mostly for trivial reasons.

These tragic incidents have a common theme — unchecked emotion. Opposing sides have viewed their rival as their enemy, and then used that identification to justify actions that crossed the line.

Sadly, these examples are far from the only ones of a rivalry going too far. By glorifying the contentious nature of rivals going at it, our society enables us to go to the point of no return, time and again.

It’s like setting a fire and then dumping a full canister of gasoline on it; the flames are sure to burn out of control.

It needs to stop now.

And it can. We just need to change our perspective.

I understand this well. As a University of Miami alum, I have no warm or fuzzy feelings for Florida State University. Both schools have had a long and contentious football rivalry, but the contempt goes deeper than that. A difference in perceived academic standards and student demographics has helped turn even general discussions about Miami and Florida State into situations where participants must choose one or the other.

Perhaps the most poignant example of this was a phrase I learned as a freshman at Miami: “Friends don’t let friends go to Florida State.”

The salty relationship between the two schools permeated my soul. Long before I put a kibosh on the term, I actively stated that I hated Florida State. I talked a lot of smack and belittled people I didn’t even know just because they wore garnet and gold.

However, things changed slightly by the end of my college days. On Labor Day weekend of my senior year of school, I drove up to Tallahassee to watch Miami and Florida State face off in football. Parking was scarce, and I ended up finding a space in a bank parking lot.

As I set up my tailgating gear, three people who had parked nearby started chatting me up. They were Florida State fans from Fort Lauderdale, and we quickly got to talking about our common home region. Soon enough we were drinking beer together, despite rooting for rival teams.

This situation taught me a lot. I learned that I can have a lot in common with people who make different choices than I do, and that it’s possible to respect my rivals.

I can honestly say that I take a different perspective involving rivalries now. When Miami takes on Florida State each year, you can bet I want nothing more than to see my Hurricanes come away with the W. But I also think about what a blessing it is to see my team share the field with an old rival, with both teams giving it everything they have. I think about how fortunate both Miami and Florida State fans are to inextricably be a part of so many classic games and legendary moments. And I think about how, win or lose, life goes on for both fan bases.

At the end of the day, I’m honored to have the chance to circle the Florida State game date on my calendar every year.

As a client of mine — who’s a Florida State alum — once told me, the Florida State-Miami rivalry is a respectful rivalry. Although there are always going to be quite a few bad eggs out there in the stands, I truly believe that statement to be true.

I think it’s important that we take this perspective with all of our rivalries. Our country is far too divisive right now, and it’s sending us spiraling backwards. Fanning the flames with unbridled contempt does us no good.

We cannot move forward as a unified society if we can’t stand to communicate with those whose views differ from ours. While we might not all have the same perspective, we should at least share common decency to view each other as people, not targets.

So, let’s work on respecting our rivals. For at the end of the day, we all are sharing this planet.

The Essence of Texas

I am a proud Texan. I drink my coffee from a Come and Take It mug, have a Lone Star flag emblem on the back of my SUV and care about March 2nd more than y’all do. Texas soil is sacred to me, and I consider it an honor to live on top of it.

But I’m not a native Texan. Far from it.

So how does someone who spends his childhood more than a thousand miles from the banks of the Red River identify with the land that lies between it and the Rio Grande? Safe to say, this uniquely authentic place has captivated me like none other.

And I’m not alone. Over the years, I’ve gotten dozens of non-Texans addicted to Torchys Tacos. My barbeque brisket has gotten such rave reviews up north that it’s become a holiday tradition. And I’ve been promised return visits from out-of-state family and friends who were pleasantly surprised by how much they enjoyed their time here. Yes, I’m sure my presence has something to do with it, but the unique aura of Texas has had some effect.

But my enveloping connection with Texas goes much deeper than exposure to good food, warm weather and Lone Star charm. Being a Texan has as much to do with the way you live your life as where you live it.

Values are everything in Texas. Doing the right thing matters here, and that includes treating others the right way. This is a breath of fresh air in a world that seems to glorify self-aggrandizement, entitlement, indulgence and misbehavior. Texas hospitality is relic of a more decent time, one which has been sustained into a more advanced and inclusive era.

Of course, Texan values are about more than how you treat others. They’re also about standing up for yourself. It’s a doctrine that found its roots within the walls of the Alamo, and is rooted within the souls of Texans today.

Don’t Mess With Texas is more than just a hollow saying, as Jose Bautista recently found out. (It should be noted that the source of that right hook — Venezuela native Rougned Odor — has quickly ascended to the status of Texan for his very public display of this value.) While violence is not encouraged, standing up for oneself most certainly is.

This complex mix of values serves the backbone of the collective spirit known as Texanism. We are proud to be Texans; by and large, we see no shame in publicizing that.

This is not always an easy concept for others to grasp. A recent New York Times article — written by a Texas resident who grew up in California — passed off Texanism as a regional, commercialized resistance to America’s rapidly evolving culture. I couldn’t disagree more.

Texanism is quite authentic; it’s a tacit solidarity embedded within the souls of those who do right by each other and stand up for themselves. Texanism not about resisting change; it’s about respectfully and gracefully accepting it without sacrificing our identity.

This is what makes Texas uniquely special, this compromise between new ideals and time-honored traditions. Openness is demanded, but heritage is still protected. Independence is lauded but respect is expected. Standing up for yourself is on equal footing with looking out for others. And morality is both a personal and collective responsibility.

Ultimately, the essence of Texas is finding balance in ideals — a concept I believe quite strongly in.

This is why Texas is a part of me. And I’m a part of it.

I am a Texan. I wouldn’t have it any other way.