I have just taken on a new job, and the new job has ‘manager’ in the title. I have become the Tree Services Manager for a local utility company. It’s a great position, in a great company and I’m enjoying the role, but what I find interesting is the concept of being a manager.

I have been managing things for my entire life. When I was five I managed to tie my shoelaces, when I was eight I managed to ride home from school – without getting lost. I managed to get a job, I left home and managed to feed myself. I managed myself through university and managed to convince my girlfriend to marry me (although that one took almost 10 years). As an arborist, I managed not to kill myself. I became a crew leader and managed not to kill any of my team. I’ve managed contracts, managed budgets, and managed to get to work more or less on time for over 30 years. As a parent, I managed to raise two children to become young humans, although I can’t claim all the credit for that. I’ve managed all sorts of things, as I’m sure you have. Life requires management so we manage. Why then is becoming a manager so impressive?

To try and understand this and to try and become better at my job I started reading up on the art of good management. As bedtime reading goes, it was great – I’d be asleep within 5 minutes. The internet is filled with many and various self-help guides and blogs of greatness. Opinion abounds and reality doesn’t seem to get a mention. And there are books, so many books. And courses, courses for courses, and courses with horses – I kid you not! Each book, blog, and course lets you in on a secret. The secret to this the secret of that. There are so many people sharing secrets that the concept of secrecy appears to be lost on management; maybe that is the secret. No wonder it put me to sleep.

At some stage when I wasn’t busy being a manager or reading about becoming a manager, I caught up with a friend who is a social worker. He is married to a school principal. At some point in the evening, it occurred to me how similar their work was. It then occurred to me, that much of their work was similar to mine. It was all about people. From there I started to think about people jobs and a human resource manager that I know. Before he returned to New Zealand, he was the HR manager of a large multinational corporation; he had 100’s of staff who in turn had 100’s of staff – people managing people, who managed people, who actually did stuff.

The difference between me managing my life and me having a job with ‘manager’ in the title was people, other people. For me, the secret of becoming a good manager was not to learn about management but to learn about those that manage. To become a good tree services manager all I needed was a mix of people that manage people. A cocktail, shaken not stirred. One fluid ounce of principal, a ½ fluid ounce of social worker, and 1 fluid ounce of HR, topped with crushed ice and served in a tall glass with a slice of lemon and a sprig of arboriculture. Too easy.

With that in mind, I stopped reading about the art of management and started reading about the essential skills of actual jobs. How to be a good this, or what’s required for that, real jobs with how-to manuals and no secrets.

The reoccurring theme was and is communication. The receiving side of communication requires listening, patience, and empathy – which doesn’t sound too hard, and with some practice seems achievable. The giving side of communication requires decisiveness and flexibility – at first, these two don’t seem to sit well together, but if you think about it, they do. And this brings up the next most reoccurring skill, critical thinking. Critical thinking by one name or another is thinking in an organized and rational manner to understand the connection between ideas and facts. This one requires a bit of effort, but it’s a learned behaviour; time and effort – but no secrets.

So, there it is, a new job with a new set of skills and a title. Welcome to the world of management.

Written for Ontario Arborist Magazine