self-assertive records manager, The

Dr. Manuel J. Smith's popular I Feel Guilty When I Say No discusses the difficulties of--and cures for-many otherwise functional people who lack self-assertive skills. Since I "say no" so rarely that I do not even give myself a chance to feel guilty, I am more lacking than most in these skills. I agree to mail out solicitations for every imaginable charity-some of which I do not even consider particularly worthwhile causes. Because my wife and I are suckers for the free gifts offered, we attend endless presentations for time-share vacation resorts. Then we patiently feign interest in the salesman's pitch--long after all the other prospective couples have slipped out: We cannot bring ourselves to say, "We just came for the gifts and have no real interest in a time-share investment." I listen for hours at a time, Saturday after Saturday, to the door-to-door evangelist anxious to save my soul: I cannot find the words to say, "Thank you for your concern, but I am really not interested in hearing your message." My wife will never let me forget how, when we were living on a $3,000-a-year stipend, I gave a check amounting to a week's worth of groceries to a couple of teenagers peddling magazines. Even while I was writing the check, I knew that a graduate student like me would never have time to read those magazines. The week after that I purchased a $20,000 whole life insurance policy, which was rather hard to justify for a 20-year-old man with no children, a healthy wife, and a $3,000 income. I have always been paralyzed when confronted with the need to handle even the simplest transactions with strangers:

*I got friends to ask where the restroom is located;

*I got my mother to make all my phone calls to stores, banks, doctors, and even the mothers of girls I wanted to date.

*When I got married, my wife took over all--well, most--of these duties (although at the time she barely spoke English).

*Even now, when I am required to ask something of a stranger, I have to write down my little speech ahead of time in order to muster up the nerve to say it.

Psychologists teach us that such ineffectual behavior is learned as a child. Often it results from our parents' (perhaps unconscious) exploitation of external values and consequences to manipulate us into feeling so anxious and guilty that we will do what they want. Thus, we learn, if we don't become potty-trained, we will not be accepted into pre-school; if we don't wear "appropriate" clothes, everyone will laugh at us; if we tell lies, we may not be allowed into Heaven; if we drink coffee, our growth will be stunted; if we don't practice good table manners, no girl will ever go on a second date with us; etc. In my case, I think it may also be a matter of simple shyness, i.e., low self-esteem, an expectation that I will make a fool out of myself or that another person will either reply "Who do you think you are anyway?" or just shrug off my argument as ludicrous.

I will leave it to the psychologists to uncover all of the reasons why people like me are so insecure and unassertive. My purpose here is to consider how this weakness affects records management. To be sure, most records managers I know do not even approximate my lack of assertiveness. Yet the popular image of records managers as a bashful, timorous group is not entirely unwarranted. To some extent, non-assertive behavior is a natural outcome of the auxiliary, support character of the records manager's role. The job, after all, is to facilitate the work of others who are directly carrying out the organization's mission. Therefore, asserting individual will and opinions seems somewhat out of character with the function. It is ironical that, despite the ancillary, "behind-the-scenes" aspect of the records manager's role (which often attracts non-assertive wallflowers like me), the records manager's job actually requires unusually assertive behavior in order to sell the program to those most concerned with the organization's primary mission. Indeed, both the advocacy and the enforcement aspects of the records management function demand that the records manager must learn to be assertive in order to be effective.

HONESTY WITH VENDORS

My agency recently went through the process of procuring hardware and software for three related imaging pilots. A few weeks after we had selected a system integrator, I received a phone call from another software developer whom I had known casually for some time. I had been surprised not to receive a proposal from him and voiced my disappointment that he had not entered the competition. He responded that he had not been informed that an invitation to propose had been issued. He then became quite upset that he had not been given the opportunity to submit a bid, since he had already done one project for us and was familiar with our agency's needs.

At this point, an assertive records manager would have empathized with the vendor's frustration, but have clearly informed him that this particular lost opportunity could not be salvaged, since a contract with another company had already been executed. Instead, feeling guilty about what had happened, I told him, "Ill see what I can do," implying that there might be some way he could be involved in the project. In fact, there was no way, but during several days of phone calls back and forth, I was unable to muster the courage to tell him this. Rather, I made arrangements for three members of our MIS staff and two potential users to accompany me to his offices for a demonstration. The vendor brought every technical expert he could find from his own staff and associates. The demonstration itself was impressive, and he even supplied lunch for all of us. I nearly choked on it, when I had to acknowledge that, although his product was quite excellent, we would be unable to purchase it in the near future.

This whole incident was a considerable waste for everyone. It had cost both the vendor and my agency valuable time for phone calls, for making arrangements, and especially for the demonstration itself. In return, we got a good demonstration of a product we could not buy--and a free lunch. Aside from some weak "political" reasons, I have no good excuse for letting it drag it out so long. I did it because I was afraid of making the vendor mad or hurting his feelings. In other words, I lacked the nerve and assertive skill to insist upon discontinuing consideration of the matter.

I am sure that many vendors believe that I--and other records managers like me--purposefully lead them on in order to obtain free advice, free studies, and free lunches. Probably many of them feel 'used,' and in a sense they are. However, I doubt that there is usually any real intention to deceive or to raise unnecessarily high expectations. More often, we are simply not skilled enough to say "not interested." We have an aversion to--almost a fear of--disagreeing.

Fear of conflict with friendly vendors also manifests itself in our hesitation to complain when the product we have purchased does not live up to our expectations. This happened recently when the integrator of a system we had just purchased explained how the screen he had designed without all of the functionality specified would actually do the job "just as well, if not better" than what we had asked for. When I failed to express my reservations resolutely, and instead hesitatingly responded, "Well, I guess it will work...," I did an even greater disservice to all parties involved than when I had failed to say "not interested" to the imaging vendor. Once more, the correct response was direct and assertive: "Your new design is very interesting, but until you have proved it is superior, we want the functionality which we stipulated." We must remember that it is our job to make certain that our company receives all of the value it has purchased. Moreover, it is unfair to vendors not to explain to them--without mincing words--what our requirements are and our expectation that they will be met.

ASSERTIVE CUSTOMER SERVICE

As a public agency involved in a number of controversial projects and services, we receive numerous requests to view public documents (defined as nearly every piece of paper we maintain). These requests come from students, the media, potential contractors seeking information that will help them obtain a contract, and individuals concerned about the impact of our projects on their property or lives. But to me, the most interesting are the representatives of the citizen lobby groups who are attempting democratically to voice their views, demands, and complaints. Of these, my favorite is a little old man who is handicapped. He is determined to make sure that our agency abides by all of the legislation protecting the elderly and handicapped, as well as to confirm that we do not divert money from the impoverished many to the wealthy few.

This man, whom I will call Jed, exhibits a grumpy exterior, but has a friendly twinkle in his eye. He always demands instantaneous service and berates us when we pull the wrong document or take more than a day in responding to his requests. For example, through sheer persistence he convinced us that the sign on buses reading "PLEASE OFFER THESE SEATS TO THE HANDICAPPED AND ELDERLY" was a "public document" which we had to provide for him under the Public Records Act. Jed could teach classes on self-assertion. Unfortunately, I have been a slow student--as the following (fairly accurate) transcript demonstrates.

JED: Bob, what have you people been doing? I still have not received copies of the contracts I requested.

BOB: I'm really sorry, Jed. We have just been swamped with work. When did you request the documents?

JED: Day before yesterday. Do you know how much trouble it is for me to take three buses downtown and then walk five blocks to your office. I'm an old man with a disability, and I have a right to review any contracts for improvements required to meet the ADA standards. I can understand that you bureaucrats are inefficient--that's to be expected. But it does seem as though you wouldn't go out of your way to take away the rights of the elderly and handicapped.

BOB: Jed, I assure you that we had no intention of doing that. We are honestly concerned with your rights. But remember that the law allows us ten days to respond to requests such as yours, so we're not really as inefficient as you make out.

JED: Ten days! By that time it will be too late to protest the award of the contracts. That's the way you bureaucrats secretly manipulate the schedule to deprive us citizens of our rights.

BOB: Jed, we didn't have anything to do with the contract award schedule--or with the law that allows ten days for a response to public records requests. We're really backed up now with other requests, and to put yours in front would not really be fair. But I'll do what I can.

JED: You wouldn't let an old, handicapped man down, would you? I'll take the bus in tomorrow. I can count on you to make sure the copies are ready, can't I?

BOB: By tomorrow? Well, yes, I guess so.

Jed had not just wrapped me around his finger. He had begun using me for yo-yo practice. Let us examine where I went wrong. To begin with, I had become defensive. There was little point in my attempting to defend our procedure: Jed was not listening. He was just looking for a launching pad for one of his speeches--and I provided it. Second, as much as I personally might have wanted to help Jed, it was not fair to our agency or to other requestors of public records to make an exception with little cause. I should have stated the rule from the beginning: "We schedule our work to get our requests in the order requested and within the ten days allowed by the state." Then, unless he really came up with a legitimate cause for exception, I should have just repeated the rule-again and again for however long was necessary. I might, of course, have softened the reiteration by empathetically prefacing it with "I can understand your concern, but..." or "I can see why you might feel that way, but...." However, the restatement of the rule should not have varied.

ASSERTING OURSELVES WITH OTHER OFFICES

If I am an accomplished, non-assertive push-over with vendors and the public, I rank as a professional pansy with other offices in our agency. This is in part a result of the obvious, already described flaws in my character. In part, it reflects the records manager's role and professional self-image. A good deal of the records manager's time and efforts are oriented toward selling the program. To succeed, other offices must be shown that they need to use records management services. They must be persuaded that their inactive records will be safe in records management's custody. They must be assured of the extra sleep they will get at night after participating in the vital records program. Most importantly, they must be reassured that the work they expend in following the retention schedule, in purging files, in sending inactive records to off-site storage, and in inventorying their file cabinets will actually reduce their work load in the long run.

When other departments simply ignore the services that records management provides and do things "their way" or the "way that always worked in the past," a records manager has no way to justify the program's existence. Instead of a real bargain for the organization, it becomes an unnecessary luxury--a prime candidate for the executive's cost-cutting ax. Whether consciously or not, we know we are at the mercy of other departments. We cannot afford to alienate them.

A common example of the variety of non-assertive behavior inspired by this fear of losing support frequently surfaces in our efforts to encourage the use of standard records storage boxes. Every records manager recognizes the importance of using the standard, easily assembled, 10" x 12" x 15" records box with removable lid, a rated strength to hold several hundred pounds, and a resistance to collapse even when stacked five or six high. Using these boxes reduces storage costs, lessens the likelihood of lifting injuries, best fits the majority of files, and nearly eliminates damaged or lost records due to collapsing or bursting boxes. The standard records storage box is truly a marvel of modern business ingenuity. It is probably the most effective, yet easy to use, tool at the records manager's disposal. Why other departments are often so unwilling to use it properly is truly a mystery. The dialogue that follows actually took place, although not in a single conversation. It is rather a composite of a number of such interchanges.

USER: We are spring cleaning and have about 20 file cabinets of documents to be sent to your storage facility. Should I fill out some sort of transmittal to go with them?

BOB: Yes, I'll be glad to send you a pad of manifest forms. I can send records storage boxes, too. Twenty file cabinets you say? Assuming that you'll be able to purge files using the retention schedule, eighty boxes should do it...

USER: You don't need to send the boxes. We already have some. We've been collecting computer paper boxes for the last month, and we kept the big packing boxes that we received our new PCs in. Oh yeah, we also have a whole slew of those office moving boxes that just pop up...

BOB: But those types of boxes may cause some problems. You see we get a big discount on our storage costs if we use standard boxes. Also those packing boxes may be too heavy to lift after being filled with paper. As for the moving boxes, they may be easy to set up, but their bottoms fall out even more easily when they're packed.

USER: Look, I know you must have negotiated a good deal in procuring your boxes and that you would like us to use them, but my people have already started using the others. Besides they have lids that fold over and can be taped so we don't lose anything. The last time we used your boxes, their lids didn't fold over very well, and for that matter the bottoms fell out of one of them, too.

BOB: They do come with removable lids. You just didn't pick any up. Instead, you made "lids" out of the four flaps that were supposed to have been folded inside to reinforce the body of the box. That's why they fell apart.

USER: Well, maybe. But, you see, that's the problem: It takes an engineering degree to be able to figure out how to set up some silly boxes. Besides, it wasn't an oversight that we didn't take the removable lids. We don't like them. If you just stick them on top, there is nothing to keep them from falling off and the contents from getting lost. On the other hand, they are not as easy to tape down as the flaps on the packing and moving boxes.

BOB: Look, honestly, you don't have to worry about the lids falling off. They fit snugly, and the contents are packed tightly inside. Taped storage boxes are a real hassle when you have to get into them to retrieve a document. As far as the difficulty in setting them up, it's not really that hard. Besides, I thought you had an engineering degree.

USER: Electrical engineering, not box engineering. Besides, we can't get all of my irregular plans, charts, and blueprints into your boxes-that's another reason I need the larger packing boxes. Also, when I try to pack my hanging files in them, they get squeezed out of shape, and when I put notebooks in them, there is always a lot of space left over where I can't fit another notebook. Your boxes just don't suit our purposes.

BOB: You really should take the documents out of hanging files or notebooks before packing them. Otherwise too much space is wasted. For those odd-sized materials, we have special types of plan sacks and other appropriate packing materials. Your big boxes are just too heavy. We run the risk of a worker's compensation injury or of boxes collapsing under the weight of the stack of oversized boxes on top of them.

USER: So don't stack them on top of each other, and tell your people to be careful in lifting. Do you supply them with back braces? Back braces are essential. As for the hanging files and notebooks, I don't have the personnel resources to spend in such reorganizing of obsolete paper. Besides when you do need to find something, it is easier to find it in the file or notebook where it was stored in the office. Look, we're wasting time arguing about some silly boxes. If you don't want to help us, we'll just file the stuff ourselves in a self-storage warehouse.

BOB: Remember the last time you used the self-storage warehouse, and all of your records got wet and moldy.

USER: That was just an unfortunate accident. It doesn't usually rain that much in Los Angeles. I've seen it go six years without any rain. If you want to help us, send the manifest forms.

BOB: I'll send the forms, but I just want to go on record as having warned you of the consequences of using those boxes.

USER: Consider it recorded.

What a debacle! Each of us had both wasted time in scoring debate points to which the other paid no attention. What went wrong? After all, my arguments were all valid. Yes, but this was not the appropriate time to state them. For once you are engaged in a conflict with someone who clearly does not want to follow records management's rules, you are unlikely to captivate his attention with a detailed lecture on the benefits of a standard storage box. (It is hard enough to excite interest in this subject even in someone with whom no conflict exists.) When presented in the hesitant, defensive manner I had pursued, it was a sure loser.

Then, what should I have said? Once more Dr. Smith's recommendations of sympathetic acknowledgement of the other person's point of view and of possible weaknesses in your position, coupled with resolute repetition of your intention to uphold policy, seems most likely to succeed. Consider, for example, the following more assertive responses to this user's arguments against using standard storage boxes:

*"I appreciate that you have collected all of these different boxes, but it is still necessary to follow the company's policy that all inactive records will be stored in standard boxes for reasons of economy, safety, and ease of retrieval."

*"I can sympathize with your frustration in setting up the boxes, but it is still necessary to abide by the company's policy that...."

*"I understand your concerns with oversized materials; however, it is still necessary to adhere to the company's policy that...."

*"You are correct in saying that it is easier to find a document in a file that is maintained in its original order, but it is still necessary to follow the company's policy that...."

*"I appreciate your willingness to store your records in a self-storage facility, even though this solution would involve retrieval problems and safety risks; however, it is still necessary to follow the company's policy that...."

In this scenario, I would not have to swallow my beliefs, and I would not have antagonized the user nearly so much as my earlier defensive, argumentative approach had done. What is more, the chances are very good that, after a few reiterations of the resolute, firm statement of policy, the user would have given in. Indeed, by offering at the end what Dr. Smith terms a "workable compromise," I could have provided a graceful way for the User to back down without losing face. The "workable compromise" provides some mitigation to preserve the opponent's self-esteem, while not sacrificing principle. In this case, an offer to provide on-site training and help in setting up the boxes might have been sufficient.

This same approach can be successfully applied to encourage other departments to purge their files. It can be used to persuade them to reduce superfluous copying. It can be effective in convincing staff to abstain from writing unnecessary memoranda. Finally, this assertive technique of combining resolute repetition of what you want with a willingness to compromise on details is the only effective way to convince other departments to produce files or documents required for litigation support or other projects in a timely fashion.

BEING ASSERTIVE WITH YOUR STAFF

At first view, it would seem that it would be much easier to be assertive with those co-workers who report to you. Are they not paid to do the work you assign? Is not their risk of being considered insubordinate sufficient to guarantee their meek obeisance? However, for several reasons, learning how to be assertive with this group is the most challenging lesson of all. First, all of our supervisor training has correctly emphasized the need to "lead" rather than coerce staff. We learn the value of workers who "want to do a good job," rather than just bring home a paycheck. Consequently, we attempt to elicit enthusiastic support, rather than compel sullen submission. However, this desire for free-will acceptance by our staff can backfire, if it becomes too unassertive. For example, I had become firmly convinced that loud radios--especially those with "talk" programs-interfere with office productivity and with the office's professional image. I approached the issue in a staff meeting with typical apologetic indecision:

BOB: It seems to me that our radios may be too loud and that it is very difficult to concentrate with all these talk shows going on at the same time. I also wonder if it doesn't sound unprofessional to outsiders coming into the office.

STAFF 1: Do you want us to turn the radio off? It doesn't seem very loud to me, and I work better with it.

STAFF 2: I never heard anyone complain about it being too loud or unprofessional.

BOB: Well, just because you didn't hear them complain doesn't mean they didn't think it was unprofessional. And I just really can't see how you can concentrate on indexing documents while listening to incessant jabber.

STAFF 1: Have you noticed any errors in our indexing that you could attribute to the radio? If not, why don't you allow us to continue listening to it.

BOB: Well, ok. But try to keep the volume at a reasonable level. It is, of course, possible to defend many different opinions with regard to the appropriateness of radios in the workplace. The truth is that I had known all of these opinions before I ever brought the issue up. If I had still felt that talk shows interfered with productivity or the office's image, I should have assertively announced the change in office policy--and stuck to it. Of course, I could have remained assertive even while admitting the validity of many of my staffs comments. Optimally, I could have concluded with a 'workable compromise" that permitted "easy listening" music at a low level or with headphones, but excluded "talk" programs.

The second reason that assertiveness is difficult with staff is that it is easier to slip into defensiveness in dealing with them, because one of the unspoken justifications for our being the supervisor is that we are supposedly more knowledgeable and experienced. When staff argues against our orders by pointing out our lack of knowledge, it is all too easy to get so bogged down in defending our wisdom and ability to supervise that we lose track of the point we were attempting to make. For example, I had the following conversation with a company mail carrier, to whose route I needed to add a mail stop:

BOB: I know that you already drive over 200 miles each evening to make your deliveries, and I feel bad about asking you to do any more, but I really need you to stop at the ticket office on Wilshire on your way back from West Hollywood.

CARRIER: There's no way I can do that without an hour overtime. I'm running really tight on the schedule as it is.

BOB: I don't believe any overtime should be necessary. I checked the map and even had George [another mail carrier] drive the route yesterday just to make sure it would be possible.

CARRIER: You don't understand, because you've never been a mail carrier yourself, and you've never driven this route yourself. Besides, you don't know how George drives--he's a maniac on wheels. Do you want me to get a speeding ticket or have an accident?

BOB: Just because I was never a mail carrier doesn't mean I don't know anything about driving. I also know how to read a map and judge distances.

CARRIER: But a mail van is different from a car, and you've got to take into consideration the amount of time it takes to have the gate opened, as well as to pick up and deliver the stuff. Also did you think about the traffic?

BOB: Of course, I considered the traffic. That was part of the calculation I made, and I spent a lot of time figuring it out.

CARRIER: You may have spent a lot of time doing calculations, but what I know comes from experience, and I know that it is not possible to add the Wilshire ticket office without overtime.

BOB: Well, of course, it is always possible I made a mistake. But give it a try anyway. See if you can't do it without much overtime anyway.

Do I need to say that the following evening the carrier did take an hour of overtime to add the mail stop? Assuming that I had done my homework correctly--i.e., made certain that George had completed the route with the additional stop on a normal day without speeding--there was no need for me to have surrendered with the feeble, irresolute 'See if you can't do it without overtime." Consider these assertive substitutes for my responses:

*"It is true I was never a mail carrier, but it is still necessary for you to add the Wilshire stop without additional overtime.'

*"You are right that I have no first-hand experience driving from West Hollywood in traffic, but it is still necessary for you to add the Wilshire stop without additional overtime."

*"Right again, I'm sure a mail van drives very differently than a car, but it is still necessary for you to add the Wilshire stop without additional overtime."

It is even more important in dealing with your staff than with other departments or the public to end with a workable compromise. n another, similar dispute over adding a mail stop, I found an effective workable compromise by concluding with the suggestion that I "ride shotgun" with the carrier on the route. This way we could verify that what I was asking was truly realistic and see if there were any ways we could reduce the time required. This was well-received and did, in fact, make the addition of the stop much easier.

In learning to become assertive with your staff, there is no need to abandon what you have been taught about seeking the employees' "buy in" or their enthusiasm for performing a good job. Being a leader rather than a taskmaster does not mean you have to give up goals, lower standards, or water down criticism. Rather, to be assertive with your staff means that you admit your own weakness and your staffs strong points; that you pursue workable compromises; and that you keep resolutely insisting upon the job being done, done right, and done on time.

CONCLUSION

Although learning to become assertive may come easy to some records managers, it is a very difficult lesson for most of us. Yet it is a technique that not only will help us to perform better as managers, but also will help us feel better about ourselves as individuals. It is really just a lesson in being open and honest about what we want and what we expect. The advice by Dr. Smith in When I Say No I Feel Guilty on admitting the other person's strong points and your weak points, on continuing to repeat-what you want, and on seeking workable compromise is extremely useful for all of us. When applied to records management, Smith's rules translate into several key precepts:

*Clearly state your case to vendors, other departments, the public, and your staff.

*Repeat as many times as necessary the brief statement of what you intend or what is required.

*Don't apologize when you are right.

*Don't become defensive; go out of your way to admit your weaknesses and the other person's strengths.

*Seek procedural compromises that do not sacrifice policies, the company's needs, or good records management principles.

*Say what you want--and keep saying it!

Copyright Association of Records Managers and Administrators Inc. Jul 1995
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved