Merging different management styles

If you have ever been involved in the dual process of doing something and managing that same something, you know perfectly well how the two can either coexist or be at odds with each other. Managing someone to do a process without sharing the load of doing is very different than managing someone while sharing the load of doing.

Most businesses start out with a manager/coworker form of structure (one person performing dual tasks). It is a very logical approach because it allows the company to grow without taxing the coffers for a separate employee. In addition, most artists and craftspeople have a hard time letting go of the creative and production process, so they typically end up micromanaging in a dual-role structure. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, sometimes it works very well. It’s just that once a business grows to a certain point, this form of management simply doesn’t work as well.

My business, for instance, has been craftsperson-managed from day one. It works, but only with careful planning and having a real understanding of managed growth (keeping it small enough so that it can be effectively managed by the same person who is doing the work). By accepting the limitations of growth coupled with an unusual desire to still do the work, I have learned to squeeze everything out of that small toothpaste tube of a client base.

The first thing you must understand about business is it exists for the sole purpose of being profitable. You may think it goes beyond that by providing employment for those needing work, support to the community, and creative expression. Those things are a benefit of business, but they do not happen if it is not self-sustaining and making enough profit to continue to grow.

Being a businessperson, therefore, is nothing more than a form of prostitution. You must be willing to sell yourself to get what you want out of the sacrifice of working towards the goal of profitability.

I was in my early 20s when I decided to pursue a career in wood. Eager to do everything right, I returned to school, worked a nasty job to buy my first set of tools, and set up a small shop. I was naïve, but highly motivated. I studied at every opportunity, read books, and attended workshops. As the years went by, I did nothing but struggle with acquiring and selling work. I had made the decision early on that I would only do studio-type furniture. I even felt cabinet work was beneath me. And the idea of going into the field, especially onto a construction site, was not going to play on my system.

Through my ever-progressing journey, I worked for several different shops. Every stop was a learning experience, but I just wasn’t satisfied with doing things other people’s way. As providence would have it, I was let go from the last employer I ever had because they, too, were going in a different direction. I was now in my 30s with a wife and two kids to support. Not having a job for nine months taught me much about business. It wasn’t until my unemployment insurance was about to run out that I first saw the light.

Frantic to find stable work, nothing looked acceptable. Either the money wasn’t good enough, or the work was beneath me. But with three extra mouths to feed I started to realize that a compromise may be in my best interest. For the first time I realized I may need to do work that I had previously considered below my training and education experience.

I will never forget combing the want ads in the paper one morning, diligently looking for the golden ticket that would seat me next to the likes of Willy Wonka.

Instead, I saw an ad for a presentation put on by a local home improvement chain. They were looking to hire additional contractors to help grow their burgeoning construction department. My first thought was how laughable of an opportunity it was. Why would I be willing to put on some nail bags and go install the cheap junk purchased through a retail construction process. I mean, I never wanted to even set foot on a construction site, let alone work for a retailer. I read the ad to my wife expecting her to scoff and instead she simply replied, “What have you got to lose?”

I finally gave in to the idea of exploring ‘carpentry prostitution’. Because I had such lofty ideals, I figured I could just sneak in and pretend to sniff at the opportunity, and later find a reason to not get involved. Instead, I met the man running the program only to discover his reputable background and incredible business acumen.

Realizing I could make money doing it (and it wouldn’t have to last forever), I came home that night and told my wife I took a job in an escort service. One year later I went from unemployment to having saved enough money to buy a property with a house and shop.

You see, going from a state of order (having a clear vision of not doing work “beneath” me), to disorder (doing the very thing I trained myself not to do), turned out to be greatly beneficial in my career path. Doing the right thing for your business is not always about doing what you think is right. We have a war waging in our mind. Regardless of how you are made up, each of us has a different share of the creative and logical side to our brain. Both can be good and bad for you, even at the same time. Being creative can make you ignore distractions (good) but miss opportunities due to an arrogant viewpoint (bad). And logic can help you create a rock-solid business plan designed to keep you on a healthy track (good) but destroy you at the same time because it insists on only applying resources to sure fire opportunities (bad).

So, yes, the craftsperson and businessperson can coexist either as separate people or within the same body. You simply must learn to discern what’s right for you. It also helps to listen to your spouse.

David Getts is a certified kitchen designer and owner of David Getts Designer Builder Inc. in Seattle.

This article was originally published in the July 2023 issue.