The Power of Purpose
“She told me I couldn’t let our airline fail because of the dramatic
impact it would have on her life as a single working mom,” he
remembers.
Doug Parker was named the new CEO of America West Airlines
on September 1, 2001. Ten days later, the events of September 11
unfolded. Though many businesses suffered, the impact on the
airline industry was especially hard. U.S. passenger loads declined
over the following two years, to a level that hadn’t been seen since
World War II. Companies like United and US Airways filed for
bankruptcy protection. And for a smaller regional airline like
America West, who didn’t have the kind of revenue cushion the
bigger airlines had, it looked like the company was going to
completely collapse.
Parker was one of the first to apply for a government loan from
the newly formed Air Transportation Stabilization Board (ATSB),
which offered $10 billion in loans to the airline industry after
September 11. But the meeting didn’t go well. Flying home on an
America West flight, Parker felt dejected. “It didn’t look good,” he
recalls. “As the newly minted CEO of America West, I was going to
have the shortest, least successful CEO career in history.” To take a
break from thinking about the day, he decided to go to the galley to
talk to the flight attendants. And that’s when he met Mary. An
outstanding flight attendant, Mary’s job meant everything to her. It
was no fault of hers that she worked for an airline without the
strength to survive the industry shakeout. “The only hope she had
to avoid a serious personal crisis,” Parker recounts, “was for the
people she worked for to figure out how to keep her company
afloat.”
Before meeting Mary, avoiding collapse was a business matter
for Parker—it was about figuring out the numbers to keep the
company in business. It was only about managing the resources.
After meeting Mary, it became a personal mission; it was about will
too. “That commitment to a purpose bigger than ourselves drove us
to accomplish things we likely would not have been able to if we
were simply working on our own account,” Parker explained. With
newfound passion, the new CEO and his team fought for and
received the government loan that had seemed impossible to get on
the flight home. Looking to further strengthen the company and get
a more competitive route network, Parker led America West into a
merger with US Airways in 2005 and with American Airlines in
2013. “At that point the mission was accomplished,” says Parker
with pride. “American is the largest airline in the world. Our team
was finally safe.”
But something still felt off for Parker. “By early 2016, I found
myself questioning my purpose for working,” he said. “We had
delivered on a purpose bigger than ourselves, and I was still
showing up to work, but it didn’t feel very fulfilling. Was I just
working for money?” he remembers asking himself. “For prestige? I
sure didn’t like the thought of answering either of those questions
in the affirmative.” Parker started to ask himself if he should leave
the company. Move on to do something that “could better fulfill my
desire to work for a cause bigger than myself,” as he put it. This is so
common among highly successful people. After they finish their
careers, they go on to start foundations or distribute their wealth to
charity, working to fulfill a desire to give back, do that “something”
more philanthropic. But purpose is not something we only find after
a successful career.
Parker’s drive to serve Mary and her colleagues, though
incredibly inspiring, was framed as a moon shot. It had an end
point. And once completed, Parker was left searching again. He had
tasted what it felt like to be driven by something bigger than
himself. It ignited a passion in him to drive the company to succeed
like never before—not for his own glory, but for others. And he
wanted that feeling again.
Parker heard a talk given by Bob Chapman, the CEO of the
manufacturing company Barry-Wehmiller. Chapman (about whom I
wrote extensively in Leaders Eat Last) is an outspoken voice for the
idea that the best leaders and the best companies prioritize people
before numbers. That his company consistently thrives beyond
expectations with a people-before-profit philosophy earns him
invitations to speak to the converted and skeptics alike. It was at
one of those talks that Parker was struck with a clear realization—he
recognized the moon shot but he hadn’t yet recognized the context
for that moon shot. Working to give people job security and higher
pay may be an essential milestone on his journey, but it wasn’t the
Just Cause that could inspire him for the rest of his life. “We needed
to create an environment that cared for them! Where they were
recognized and appreciated for their great work; where their leaders
cared about them; and where they went home at the end of the day
feeling fulfilled. That was the new mission bigger than myself I’d
been looking for,” Parker says excitedly about his new infinite
pursuit.
So what happens when the CEO of the largest airline in the world
has the courage to change how he leads—to move from a finite to an
infinite mindset?
Like so many companies that prioritize numbers before people,
American Airlines had a history of trust issues with employees.
Long before Doug Parker showed up, the previous leadership team
had negotiated significant concessions from the unions in the name
of “helping the company manage bankruptcy protection,” while at
the same time, guarantees were made to the top seven executives
that they would receive bonuses worth double their salaries simply
to stick around for a few more years. As if that wasn’t bad enough,
$41 million was put aside to protect the pensions of the top 45
executives. And no such provisions were made for rank-and-file
employees.
The scandal ultimately resulted in the resignation of then CEO
Donald Carty. In his departing statement, he expressed hope that
his successors would try to build a ‘‘new culture of collaboration,
cooperation and trust.’’ Something that, despite public assurances,
his successors, Gerard Arpey and Tom Horton, were unable to do.
And the trust violations and possible ethical fading persisted. Unless
a new leadership team was willing to make some hard choices and
some sacrifices to demonstrate that they were indeed worthy of
trust, nothing was going to change. Parker understood that grand
pronouncements of how things were going to be different would do
little to move the needle. He knew he and his leadership team
needed to find the courage to demonstrate that things were, in fact,
going to be different. And that’s exactly what they did.
Their first significant act happened in 2015, when they
negotiated new contracts for their pilots and flight attendants that
would make them some of the best paid in the industry. A year later,
however, Delta and United signed new pilot and flight attendant
contracts of their own, leapfrogging American by 5 percent for flight
attendants and 8 percent for pilots. With the culture of cynicism
still alive and well, many believed, falsely, that leadership knew this
would happen and worked to hurry up and lock them into the lower
contracts for the next five years.
“Saying you trust people is just words,” says Parker. “To validate
the trust, we have to act in a way that lives up to the words.” A lot of
other executive teams would simply shrug and promise to deal with
it at the next contract negotiation. “Isn’t that the purpose of a
contract?” they may say. However, trust is not built by pressure or
force, trust is built by acting in a way consistent with one’s values,
especially when it’s least expected. Trust is built when we do the
right thing, especially when we aren’t forced to. And seeing their
employees left behind industry averages for three or four more
years just didn’t “feel right for the new American and it doesn’t feel
consistent with our commitment,” according to a joint statement
issued by Parker and company president Robert Isom.
The senior executives decided to give all their flight attendants
and all their pilots a midcontract raise of 5 percent and 8 percent,
respectively, and asked for nothing in return. The decision would
cost the company over $900 million over the next three years. It
was a decision they knew Wall Street would hate. And they were
right.
On April 27, 2017, when American made the announcement, Wall
Street’s reactions were predictably disapproving. One analyst, Kevin
Crissey, who specializes in the airline industry for Citi, wrote to his
clients, “This is frustrating. Labor is being paid first again.
Shareholders get leftovers.” A letter from a group of J.P. Morgan
analysts echoed the sentiment. “We are troubled by AAL’s wealth
transfer of nearly $1 billion to its labor groups,” said the opening
line of the letter. “We’re sensitive to American’s desire to ‘build a
foundation of trust’ with its labor stakeholders,” the letter later
explained, “but we think this latest agreement goes too far. . . . The
solution to a rising wage bar is not to chase it, in our view.
Sometimes, the timing of one’s commitments is simply fortuitous.”
By “fortuitous,” I believe they were saying “possibly unfair, but in
our favor.” Fortunately, the leaders at American Airlines had the
courage to make a decision to strengthen their company without
considering Mr. Crissey’s and the J.P. Morgan team’s annual bonus
structures.
Sadly, it is finite mindsets of those like Mr. Crissey and the
analysts at J.P. Morgan who help sway the market. American
predicted they would lose as much as 5 percent of their stock value.
The day after the announcement, the stock price actually lost 9
percent of its value. The good news is, short-term thinking often has
short-term impact. In less than two weeks the stock regained its full
original value and, by year end, was over 20 percent higher. Even so,
many on Wall Street argue that American would be more profitable
if it hadn’t given its employees raises. Once again, demonstrating
their bias for resources over will. Finite thinkers do not appreciate
that an investment in people will ultimately benefit the company,
the customer and their investments (and they probably also fail to
recognize that it was their guidance that pushed the stock price
down).
A CEO of a major public company pointed out to me that Wall
Street analysts tend to write for the short-term community. So they
tend to write the things that promote their interests—finite
objectives. Responding to a question about all that short-term
analyst chatter, Parker admitted that it is hard to completely ignore.
We “have to work on it, we can quickly get sucked into it,” he said.
The good news is, Parker, his team and the board of directors are
working hard to be less reactive to the noise and to stay focused on
the long term. “We need to care for our team so that they can care
for our customers,” said Parker. “That’s how we will create value for
our shareholders.”
American Airlines is still in the early days of their new journey.
But because they are now preaching more of a long-term story than
in the past, they are, unsurprisingly, attracting the attention of more
long-term-minded investors. The kinds of investors who care less
about the short-term fluctuations. One of those investors is Ted
Weschler. Weschler is one of four investment managers who run
Warren Buffett’s Berkshire Hathaway, a company well known for
their long-term positions; they rarely sell off their investments. (As
it turns out, long-term shareholders, like Berkshire Hathaway, have
their own analysts and tend not to be swayed by the twenty-four-
hour financial news cycle.)
Buffett—the Oracle of Omaha, one of the most successful
investors in history, one of the richest men in the world, revered in
financial circles worldwide—once wrote that airlines were one of the
worst investments someone could make. As he explained in a 2007
Berkshire Hathaway shareholder letter, “The worst sort of business
is one that grows rapidly, requires significant capital to engender
the growth, and then earns little or no money. Think airlines. Here a
durable competitive advantage has proven elusive ever since the
days of the Wright Brothers. Indeed, if a farsighted capitalist had
been present at Kitty Hawk, he would have done his successors a
huge favor by shooting Orville down.” It’s worth noting that, at the
time of the publication of this book, Berkshire Hathaway is the
single largest shareholder of American Airlines. And when Doug
Parker informed them of his intention to give the midcontract raise
to his flight attendants and pilots, Weschler gave Parker his
blessing. The joke is, all those finite thinkers who complain about
Parker’s leadership perspective will probably still invest in American
if they think they can make a buck.
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