Self-congratulation sits on the throne of the political process. Apparently the social rules our parents instruct us to follow don’t apply for many aspirants of public office. When the spotlights splash the debate stage or the cameras roll in the Oval Office, hubris emerges as the dialect of choice.
In a recent Republican debate, Newt Gingrich claimed he defeated the Soviet empire. Without blushing or apologizing, The Newt consistently points out how he rescued the world from communism and from complete social collapse. You don’t have to listen long to get the clear sense that Newt is Newt’s biggest fan.
Across the political aisle, President Obama consistently reveals his lofty views of himself. During a 60 Minutes interviewlast month, he gave us a glimpse into his self-opinions, and it’s awfully rosy:
I would put our legislative and foreign policy accomplishments in our first two years against any president — with the possible exceptions of Johnson, F.D.R., and Lincoln — just in terms of what we’ve gotten done in modern history. -Barack Obama
My issue isn’t with whether President Obama is one of the top four presidents in our country’s history or if Newt shredded the Iron Curtain. My issue is that they don’t seem to have any hesitation about making these claims. My dad always taught me that the best leaders celebrate others, not themselves.
Whenever I watch the self-complimenting love fest our political leaders have with themselves, I am reminded of how grateful I am to work with a leader who militantly fights against arrogance. Peter Greer hails from Harvard and became CEO at HOPE International in his twenties. He speaks three languages and is just as comfortable in front of a balance sheet as he is in front of an audience.
Since Peter has taken the helm at HOPE, revenue has grown at a 31% annual rate (from under $1M in 2004 to over $8M in 2011) and the global footrpint expanded from a handful of countries to 16 countries across four continents. The guy deserves at least a few humble-brags. And though I know (with biblical proof) that Peter isn’t perfect, he exhibits the only leadership quality I think is indispensable: Humility.
One of many bragworthy Peter moments
I’m grateful to serve in an organization that is built around others-congratulating leadership. What a joy to work in a team environment where “who gets credit” is, quite simply, unimportant. Now please, Peter, don’t let this go to your head. I don’t want this post to lead you to claim you single-handedly defeated poverty or that you’re the fourth-best CEO the world has ever known. You can follow Peter here: @peterkgreer
I love a good rags-to-riches story. Sam “Walmart” Walton sold magazines and milked cows in small-town Oklahoma before building the world’s biggest company. Howard Schultz forged his place in American folklore by brewing the coffee shop movement after a hand-to-mouth childhood in Brooklyn’s worst neighborhood. They each made the leap from obscurity to prominence. Mired in adversity, they clawed their way to triumph. But it is a grand charade to suggest that riches alone are better than rags.
Success is a fickle concept. We treat it like a GPS destination. Kick the car in gear, turn right at the T, and pull into the driveway after the rusty garage. Follow this route and you will surely arrive. But success looks nothing like a script. And it can be deceiving. He had everything a man could want or imagine, I muse. But with success, you can’t know it when you see it.
“I’ve gone from village to palace,” exclaimed Ashok Khade. Born in a mud hut without much food, Ashok’s childhood was like a very long walk up a very steep hill. As part of the “untouchables” caste, the lowest of Indian classes, his future was destined to look like his father’s—a grueling life spent cleaning sewers or sweeping streets. But Ashok’s story unfolds just like Sam Walton’s. He studied hard, worked tirelessly and bootstrapped his oil business into a $100M Indian powerhouse.
Ashok arrived. He traded in his rickshaw for a beamer. The oil tycoon now stays at 5-star hotels, adorns his mother with opulent gold jewelry and makes deals with sheiks from Abu Dhabi. The journalist pronounced Ashok’s concluding verdict: “The untouchable boy had become golden, thanks to the newest god in the Indian pantheon: money.”
From a mud shack to the presidential suite, Ashok followed the roadmap to success. And he arrived. He now revels in his wealth, indulging in the finest of luxuries, hoarding his wealth and “living the dream.” But, Ashok has simply gold-plated the chains of poverty.
Ashok should listen to the sage advice of his forbearer. John Rockefeller, also a peasant-turned-oilman, bemoaned, “I have made many millions, but they have brought me no happiness.” At the peak of his success, Rockefeller topped the charts as the wealthiest person in the world. He had no equal. If success were a map, he would be the mapmaker. But, Rockefeller mourned what we are afraid to admit: Success has nothing to do with prosperity. You can indulge in every luxury and still hate waking up in the morning.
Yet we keep peddling the empty promise that a life of prosperity will soothe the wounds of the heart. It won’t. Rockefeller knew it and it shouldn’t surprise Ashok that his newfound riches are like whitewashed tombs.
There is a rags-to-riches story I love more than the rest, however. It is a story of a poor shepherd boy abandoned by his brothers and sold into the hands of a royal Egyptian family. Thrown in jail for years, the poor farmhand persevered and wrote his rags-to-riches story, advancing from the fields to the royal suite.
Pharaoh said to Joseph, “I hereby put you in charge of the whole land of Egypt.” Then Pharaoh took his signet ring from his finger and put it on Joseph’s finger. He dressed him in robes of fine linen and put a gold chain around his neck. He had him ride in a chariot as his second-in-command. – Genesis 41:41-43
From sheering sheep to gracing the throne of the modern world, it was in ancient Egypt where we see rags-to-riches in its purest form. Joseph knew he was not blessed simply to surround himself with frond-waving servants and Egyptian delicacies. He was blessed to bless. “And all the world came to Egypt to buy grain from Joseph, because the famine was severe everywhere.” (vs. 57) It was from this position of power and wealth that Joseph rescued the whole world on the brink of collapse. From poverty to generosity: A true rags-to-riches story.
I fought off tears for the entire 144 minutes of Cinderella Man. My emotions churned as I watched Jim Braddock fight for his family’s survival. Before the 1929 crash, Braddock was a superstar heavyweight boxer. But, injuries and the Great Depression knocked him to the mat. He stumbled from stardom and lost his place on the professional circuit. At home, his career crash meant he could no longer provide for his wife and kids. Star-turned-beggar, Braddock worked on the grueling docks for mere pennies to keep his home’s heat on.
On the brink of collapse, Braddock intercepted a whisper of hope. With the pantry sparse and the coffers empty, he caught a shot to reclaim his dignity: His agent secured him a fight. It wasn’t the main stage, but a chance to dance was better than no chance at all. His kids’ hungry bellies trumped any indignity he felt about back-stepping to the minor leagues.
“I fight and I put a little more distance between my kids and the street,” Braddock said. He grew tired of hoping-and-praying. He knew the purse in this minor league fight would create a buffer for his family. The relatively meager payday would move them a step back from the cliff. Not a mile from the cliff, but far enough to avoid disaster.
Several weeks ago while traveling in Asia, I walked through the types of neighborhoods I only knew from documentaries. Weaving through tight corridors with corrugated tin homes creeping onto the footpath, I came to terms with my own prosperity. The last shantytown we visited was the saddest place I’ve been. There, I sat with members of this community who explained the plight of their town—poor health, drugs, violence, porous homes, bad schools, lepers—their list went on and on. Because of their disheartened lot, they named their squatter village Helpless. They could have chosen anything, but they selected a name that voiced their pain.
Anjali
For the group we visited in Helpless, however, cautious optimism broke through the clouds. “Before, I would spend every penny I had,” Anjali shared. “Now, I have two hundred rupees [$4] saved.” It wasn’t much, but this savings account, like Braddock’s modest winnings, put a little distance between her kids and the street. Now, when Anjali’s kids caught the flu or when she found the rice bin barren, a safety net broke the fall.
In these communities, survival teeters in delicate balance. When the storms of life hit, they cause more than minor setbacks. Four dollars in a safe place means the difference between disaster and desperation. A subtle, yet remarkably substantial, difference.
As I watched Cinderella Man after my return from Asia, the scenes of Hoovervilles reminded me of Helpless. It wasn’t hard to reconcile these two images—both places stifled by suffocating despair. In the midst of the chaos in Hoovervilles and Helpless, however, unrelenting hope emerged. Braddock and Anjali refused to admit defeat and fought their way back from the cliff. That first step away from disaster is the most important. For Braddock, this step came with a fist pump in the boxing ring. And for Anjali, that step took the form of two hundred rupees in a savings account with her neighbors.
My day job transports me beyond our nation’s borders every morning. I rally our supporters to unleash grassroots entrepreneurs in places like Bujumbura and Lubumbashi. But, I live in Denver. I walk these streets. So when it comes to my town, who do I cheer for (apart from Tim Tebow, of course)?
Many great organizations serve our city. We need important agencies like Joshua Station and Providence Network that protect our city’s most-vulnerable families. What energizes me most, however, are entrepreneurs at the margins. I’m drawn to the innovators that give job opportunities to those who typically go without. These two great organizations inspire me:
An open industrial garage door invites discount-hunters into a nondescript warehouse in northeast Denver. Inside Bud’s Warehouse, profundities of all varieties are commonplace. Bud’s, a home improvement thrift store, hires the unhireable, mostly former felons. They repurpose construction site leftovers and lighten the load on landfills by selling these products to deal-hunting contractors and home remodelers.
Each morning, the Bud’s team gathers for a “hood check” to discuss faith, family and work. Bud’s is the cornerstone business of the Belay Enterprises portfolio. But, after growing Bud’s into a $2 million business, they launched new ventures including a commercial cleaning company, a baby clothing consignment store, an auto garage, a jail-based bakery and a custom-woodworking business. Together, these businesses help rebuild lives and create immense value in our community. The masses–including major publications like Christianity Today–are starting to catch the Belay fever.
They aren’t based in Denver, but Jobs for Life recently sank roots into Coloradan soil (and they’re probably in your city too). Throughout the Mile High City, many unemployed and underemployed people are rediscovering their purpose through Jobs for Life seminars. God designed people to apply their hand to a craft, to work hard and to yield fruit from their labor.
Especially in this socioeconomic climate, we need to recapture this message. Even many good-hearted charitable efforts stifle our design as workers. We forget we are co-creators with the God who toiled for six long days to create the galaxies and ecosystems. Jobs for Life helps our communities rekindle the message of work. Their new video communicates this better than I can:
Entrepreneurship is in my blood. I visit places like Bud’s Warehouse and am inspired by their creativity, profitability and impact. Who inspires you in your city?
This isn’t your typical ill-fitting tee shirt. It’s American Apparel.
As an owner of two American Apparel tees, I can affirm these shirts fit well. We know they fashion comfortable garb, but we also know their clothes are “crafted with pride in the USA.”
Out of the limelight, a financial services company lurks in mystery. We see Western Union signs everywhere, but I’m guessing like me, you’ve never been a customer. Earlier this year, I pitched TOMS Shoes vs. Whole Foods in a corporate do-gooder analysis. Today’s matchup? American Apparel vs. Western Union.
American Apparel
Activists flock to American Apparel (AA) products, drawn to their fashion-forward designs and ethical business practices. AA lauds how they “pioneer industry standards of social and environmental responsibility in the workplace.” They pay their factory workers well and give back to Los Angeles, their home city. They construct quality products.
If that was the whole story, I would hail their greatness. But it’s not. They do some things well, but their problems plunge deeper than even the deepest of their v-neck man tees.
Frankly, the more I learn about American Apparel, the less I like. As a person of faith, I find AA’s blatant disregard for decency appalling. The New York Times described their marketing as “sexually charged.” AA categorizes it as “provocative.” It’s sadly ironic they are a clothing company because their ads feature very little of it. This edginess appeals to their customers, but it isn’t winsome. It’s willfully vulgar. “Controversial as [our marketing] may be, we’ll continue to give our core audience what they crave,” their website flaunts.
Their (lack of) corporate values start at the top. Founder and CEO, Dov Charney is a real class-act. He’s called the “Hugh Hefner of retailing, decorating his stores with covers of Penthouse magazine” and he shamelessly and unapologetically exploits his female employees. Call me a prude, but I think AA cheapens women. From their leadership to their marketing, AA distills the value of women down to their dimensions. And that, to me, flies in the face of good American business and true social responsibility.
Speaking of being American, their worshiped manufacturing process drips with arrogance. I believe in free markets and believe healthy market economies are the “best broken system” to continue to lift hundreds of millions of people out of poverty globally. AA positions their advertising as if the only way to run an ethical company is to hire American laborers. It’s not. That’s bad economics and it flies in the face of great global companies like Gap and Apple that use global manufacturing facilities to create great jobs in developing countries.
It’s fine for companies to tout their Americanism–and for consumers to buy local–but don’t suggest companies which do otherwise are villains. This protectionist tone incites Americans (both progressives and conservatives, which baffles me on both counts, but that’s another topic) against our global neighbors. Since when is helping provide jobs for poor people in other countries unAmerican (or unChristian, for that matter)? Western Union
Western Union pops up in the worst places. Their outlets populate seamy strip malls and dimly lit corner stores. I associate these Western Union outlets with pawn shops, money lenders and liquor stores, retailers that victimize on the chronic poverty found in these neighborhoods. While it may have been fair to accuse Western Union of this twenty years ago, it isn’t any longer.
On an evening drive recently, I did a quick stop at Western Union with my friend Clarisse, a Congolese refugee. We pulled up to a gas station and she jumped out. A minute later, she slid back in the car. Transaction complete: She had just sent $50 to her aging mother in Brazzaville, Congo. That $50 was her mother’s only income that week.
Later in the evening, her mom called. The money had arrived. Today, over $200 million will change hands though over one million transactions, just like the $50 Clarisse sent to her mom. Western Union sustains families through these transactions. In Haiti, over half of the national income comes through these transactions–remittances–and has been a lifeblood for millions of struggling families. They’re safely transmitting billions of dollars to and from remote places like Congo, Somalia and Laos. And, they’re doing so with transparency in their pricing.
They have outlets in every country in the entire world. They treat and pay their 7,000 employees well. And, they give generously, granting over $70M to innovative nonprofits that “connect families with economic opportunity,” aligning closely with the heartbeat of Western Union’s core business. These agencies include many top microfinance organizations (before you think I’m biased, they haven’t given to HOPE yet, but hopefully someday!). Western Union understands their unique contribution to the world–safely transmitting money globally between loved ones–and they promote human flourishing through the opportunities they create. The Verdict
It is a charade to claim American Apparel is a socially conscious company. They quietly erode the worth of women and loudly abhor real American values. Still, Christians line up to print their graphics on these “ethically manufactured” tees. In contrast, Western Union makes the world a dramatically better place for poor families with very little fanfare. This match-up isn’t even a contest: Western Union scores a first-round knockout.
