How to Bounce Back From Setbacks
BY: REKHA BALU March 31, 2001 From Issue 45 | March 2001; Fast Company
The road to success is rarely a straight line.
Mike Espy is no stranger to success -- even when it has meant overcoming long odds. As a teenager in rural Mississippi, he was one of two student-body presidents of the first racially integrated class in his high school. He served for six years in Congress -- the state's first black member since Reconstruction. Under Bill Clinton, he was named U.S. Secretary of Agriculture, becoming both a Washington celebrity and a committed government reformer.
And then disaster struck. In 1994, reports surfaced that Espy, now 47, had flown on corporate jets owned by companies that his department regulated and had accepted gifts, such as tickets to sports events, from those companies. Next came word that Espy's then girlfriend had accepted a scholarship from Tyson Foods, another company that the Agriculture Department regulated. These disclosures did more than raise eyebrows. They prompted the White House -- and an independent counsel -- to question Espy's ability to do his job.
Espy resigned from the Clinton cabinet humbled and depressed. He figured that the independent counsel's investigation would last six months -- tops. "I wanted to move on with my life," he says. In the end, the investigation lasted four years, produced a 39-count indictment, and generated the sort of public scrutiny and private humiliation that only a Washington scandal can create. And it forced Mike Espy to confront a question that would determine the trajectory of the rest of his professional life: How do I bounce back from this devastating setback?
The road to long-term success is seldom a straight line, for companies or for individual leaders. New products get launched with great fanfare -- and then disappear from sight. Companies make big bets on a strategy -- only to discover that the playing field has shifted once again. All-too-human executives use poor judgment or permit just one ethical lapse -- and find their reputations tarnished forever. There is no success without the occasional failure. Yet the mythology we've created about business rarely allows us to recognize that obvious fact. Successful leaders, we've come to believe, never make a bad call. They never reach a dumb decision. They never, under pressure, choose to do something that they later regret.
"In America, failure is considered a disruption in progress," says Scott A. Sandage, a history professor at Carnegie Mellon University who teaches a course on success and failure. "Even as the understanding of economic challenges increases, there's an intensification of shame around failure."
Andrew Shatté, 38, vice president of research and product development at Adaptiv Learning Systems -- a firm that teaches executives how to be more resilient -- agrees: "It's easy to become flustered by setbacks, because most of us believe that our companies and careers should keep advancing. Successful people learn how to gain control of situations that are out of their control, retool themselves, and rebound quickly from disaster."
Here are in-depth profiles of people and companies that have managed to bounce back from setbacks. Warning: The experiences are not pretty, the emotions are deep, and the victories are sometimes less than decisive. But these stories are candid and authentic, the lessons powerful and useful. So read on, be grateful that you've probably never faced setbacks quite this severe -- and consider yourself better prepared to face whatever difficult circumstances you might encounter in the future.
Mike Espy: The (Long) Road Back
One of Mike Espy's trademarks is that he writes a note to himself every day to set out his goals. Once he resigned from his U.S. Cabinet post, his goals were no longer set for him. He suddenly had to determine his own future, and his list making became more extensive. He was shocked by the vitriol in Washington and by his own poor judgment. "I considered myself legally and ethically innocent," he declares as he sits in his Jackson, Mississippi law office. "I didn't give favors to any companies. I focused on policy, not on politics. And I thought the administration would support me. But I took too much for granted. My judgment was faulty in many ways."
Facing the folks back home was nerve-racking. Espy still winces a little as he recalls a homecoming game at his daughter's high school. At the time, she was a sophomore and a member of the homecoming court. He dreaded having to escort her across the school's football field so that she could join her court. "I wanted to take myself off the radar screen," says Espy. But while lying low was a strategy for short-term survival, it wasn't a strategy for change. "I had no job or income prospects," he says. "I couldn't be a lobbyist. I couldn't be an attorney. I was disgraced. It was the worst year of my life." The daily notes to himself became a list of obligations: how to pay the mortgage, how to provide child support.Meanwhile, as weeks turned into months, Espy realized that the road back would be much longer than he'd ever imagined. "I didn't have control of the process surrounding me, so I had to take control of my life," he says. He found a mentor in Tony Coelho, the onetime congressional leader who'd had his share of setbacks. Coelho met with Espy in the winter of 1995 for what would be a memorable lunch. Coelho drew a pie chart and divided it into six slices. "You start with a vision of what you will look like when you're at your ultimate state, and you fill in the pieces with what it will take to get you there," Espy recalls Coelho saying. One half of Espy's pie represented different aspects of himself that he had to rehabilitate. First slice: finances. Coelho suggested scheduling enough speaking engagements to bring in a good income. Second slice: mental outlook. To take Espy's mind off his troubles, Coelho suggested that he teach at a local college. Third slice: reputation. Getting involved in a well-known charity would improve Espy's image and his esteem. He joined Feed the Children as a consultant (he became a board member in 1999) and worked with the antihunger organization's international offices to use donations more efficiently.
Espy tried to resurface in the public eye, but he discovered that he couldn't. He scouted for legal jobs in Washington, DC but received no offers. He returned to Jackson and took a job at a 20-person law firm. There was no pomp, no army of staff. "I kept my door shut a lot, my head down, and my focus on myself," he recalls. "But I had to generate income for the firm. They wouldn't let me wallow in self-pity." Then, in 1997, he was officially indicted.
Espy's reaction was to get tougher -- and to be tougher on himself, rather than blaming others. When he learned that Independent Counsel Donald Smaltz did 100 push-ups a day, he worked toward doing 200 a day. He also perfected his tae kwon do technique (he has a black belt). After learning that the independent counsel had given everyone on his staff a watch with Espy's name engraved on it as a holiday gift, Espy decided to take the high road, instead of firing back. He struggled with his attitude so he wouldn't sound bitter. And in his public statements, he was careful not to blame his predicament on race or politics alone.
Espy also decided to take the long road to vindication, rather than the easy road to a quick settlement. He refused three plea offers. "I could have gotten out early on a misdemeanor charge and run up only $100,000 in legal bills," he says with his arms folded, eyes cast down. "But how do you put a price on your good name?" In 1998, after testimony from a parade of witnesses -- including fellow cabinet officers, former friends, and an artist who gave Espy a painting for his office -- Espy was exonerated. Nine counts were dismissed, and a jury acquitted Espy of the remaining 30 counts. A Washington Post article detailing the road to his acquittal is framed on a wall at his law firm. Tucked inside the frame is one of the watches with Espy's name on it that Smaltz gave to his staff.
But the acquittal didn't allow Espy simply to return to the career path he'd been on before the scandal. Bouncing back from a setback often means taking a different road. Although Mississippi residents said in a poll that they'd welcome him as lieutenant governor, Espy is more than a little gun-shy about returning to public life. He's now with Mississippi's largest law firm, working hard to perfect his litigation techniques. He may never return to a career in politics, but he has escaped from the scandal that threatened to destroy him. "It's not about the test," he says. "It's about how you pass the test."
