There is a line I have seen on office walls and at the bottom of emails: “It is nice to be important, but it’s far more important to be nice.” Nobody seems quite sure who said it first. Whenever I read it, I think of my grandad, Dennis.
He started as a machinery worker in a medical device company at sixteen. After the war he went back, and over the years he worked his way up to General Manager. He went from the shop floor to running the place.
When I was very young he would sometimes take me to the factory with him. The walk to his office took a long time, because he stopped to speak to everyone on the way. He knew every person by name, and usually their children’s names too. I would get a Hovis biscuit in the canteen, then sit in his office and watch him work.
I did not understand it then, but I do now. He was the most important man in that building, and he never seemed to need anyone to notice. What he wanted was for the people around him to feel noticed. He had been on that floor himself, and I think he remembered what it was like. He was also, as I have written before, a man who listened far more than he talked.
I have spent most of my own working life around importance: titles, org charts, whose name goes on the slide. Some of it is necessary. But importance is lent to you. It comes with a role and leaves when the role does. What people remembered about my grandad was not his title. It was that he knew their name, he listened and cared.
I would rather be remembered the way he was.
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