What's Your NQ?

Bedside Management for the Middle

One of my biggest flaws (I have many), is that I'm perfect for middle-management. And I'm not attacking management, nor the middle. I'm lambasting my people-pleasing attitude that makes me good at a job that rewards people for lip-service and obeisance—qualities I possess but don’t admire.

This should explain how I once went from grunt to second-in-command of a corporation, only to demote myself after two years. The job wasn’t too hard. I just grew weary of playing conduit to a boss, a board that bossed her, and 40 employees, all of whom carried vastly different expectations and demands.

I’d like to say I loved this job, but while the company meant well (we tried to please our employees and clients), we were profit-driven. This means all decisions weighed revenue against humanity, and more often than not, the humans lost. Delivering this bad news to them was a large part of my job.

My experience wasn’t unique. Anyone who has hired and fired can relate. But, it also wasn’t a one-off. I’ve been promoted to management five times, and it’s because I have a unique, compassionate style that executives and employees appreciate. (If you know me, this probably makes sense…)

My style developed early in my career, after my first promotion, when I noticed many peers lacked what doctors call a “bedside manner.” I didn’t see any reason for this (I still don’t), but I do think it’s related to Gen Z’s supposed apathy regarding entry-level jobs. I think they see the same problem I did.

Bottom line: My style works. At all five jobs my bosses and staff respected me, and I was offered incentives to stay at four of these jobs when I resigned, so I want to publish my management technique.

Mike’s Guide to Bedside Management:

1. Missing work is missing work. Don’t tell me why you aren’t coming in. I don’t care if it’s to cure a hangover, visit a lover, or go to the hospital. You get time off, and I have no right to judge what you do with it or when and how you ask for it.

2. I don’t believe in strict communication policies. Some people are terrible at email, but great at text, and others can’t do either but love a phone call. I ask all employees what they prefer, and I never use other forms to reach them unless I’m out of options.

3. Share your blind spots and have your employees share theirs. It’s OK to be bad at paperwork, but it’s not OK to pretend you’re not and put the onus on others to know that about you and deal with it. Be up front about your weaknesses, as an employee and a boss. (And do this with friends!)

4. A company is a team. Good managers make everyone feel like an important part of that team. Managers are coaches, not bosses or executives. We develop, oversee, and nurture talent.

5. Everyone has a Nuance Quotient (NQ). This is your ability to see and accept nuances and then make the best decisions to deal with them. Blame and credit-taking show little-to-no NQ, and when they take priority over nuance-based decision-making, it destroys the team.

Ironically, it takes a high NQ to assess the NQ of others and then know how to adjust your management style to meet and match the NQ of the employee. This skill makes or breaks a manager.

I was fifteen when I had my first “bad job experience.” It was at Burger King. I had a boss with a lower IQ, EQ, and NQ than me, so I quit—but not over the first two. It was this person’s inability to deal with nuances that sent me packing. It was because all situations were governed with suffocating, blunt force.

Had this manager had a higher NQ, they could have seen how some of us were better than others at handling different tasks, different responsibilities, and most of all, different forms of feedback.

I wrote that a manager is a coach, not a boss, because coaches develop and organize talent to work as a team. There are famous examples of teams with great players who don’t win because the coach can’t teach them to cooperate. Meanwhile, everyone loves when a well-coached underdog beats a team with superior talent. These teams have coaches with high NQs who can manage various NQs, EQs, and IQs.

Phil Jackson is an NQ God. The guy successfully managed the titanic egos of Jordan, Kobe and Shaq!

Steve Jobs is an NQ god. He was sour, sardonic, and smelly (read the bio), but he knew how to stroke the nuances of others and develop talent. He didn’t invent anything, but he read nuance like a pro.

If you’re having trouble understanding what an NQ is, or you want to take a test, just reflect on the last eight years (2016-2024), and for every bitter complaint you have, take one point off the highest score. Like it or not, you must “see everyone’s side” (not agree, just see) to assess and manage nuances.

An NQ is like the sum of your EQ + IQ, but that’s an oversimplification. There’s more nuance. I prefer to use a tech analogy: An algorithm is a way of applying rules to data. Managers also apply rules to data, but their data is their staff. Good algorithms and good managers see and use nuance. Bad ones don’t.

It’s OK if you don’t have a high NQ. It just means you probably shouldn’t manage. But that’s not bad! Because while one of the upsides to “seeing everyone’s side” is a lack of bitter judgment against the world, there’s also a downside: it makes many people hate you for what they perceive as neutrality.

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Someone recently asked me, “There are a million podcasts out there. What makes yours worth it?” “Easy,” I replied. “I ask great questions, because I’m a great listener."

This week on Coffin Talk: Furkhan Dandia is a therapist, podcaster, author, and men's group facilitator who puts his mental, physical, and spiritual health at the forefront to embody discipline, integrity, consistency and hard work. However, this wasn’t always the case. First, he spent 20 years in the corporate world as an engineer, then he became a father, and finally he went through a divorce that helped him start aligning himself with his purpose in life. Listen on any app, or right here.