Meet Dave. He’s in his early 40s, has been a paramedic for 19 years and can teach us something about managing a certain breed of medics. I met Dave a couple of months ago while performing a consulting project for his organization. He’s a nice guy, is outgoing, talks a lot, is quick to smile and is the sort of medic who takes good care of his patients.
Even though his hair is thinning, Dave is hardly slowing down. He has two teenaged sons and three jobs. His primary employment is with a reputable ALS service, but he is also an instructor for a community college and regularly picks up shifts for a medical flight service. Despite working more than 60 hours per week, Dave still struggles financially and wonders why he stays in EMS. “I’m just a sucker for the cause,” he told me. “I’d rather be running calls than making some stockholder rich.”
We met at an ambulance station where he and his partner were watching Glenn Beck while awaiting calls. After a brief introduction, Dave motioned toward the TV and said, “All this government spending is ruining our country! I can’t believe what Obama is doing to us.” Wanting to engage him in a conversation about EMS, I asked if he thought the Tea Party movement would be good for EMS. “We have to do something,” he said, ducking the question. “It’s scary. Before you know it, government will be taking over everything. They’ve done it with health care—it’s only a matter of time.” I asked if he thought taxes and government should help pay for EMS. “Not if it raises my taxes,” he said. “We’re already taxed too much. That’s why I have to work three jobs.”
His fervor died down as our conversation drifted around to his job. He likes his job, he said—especially the people he works with. But when we came around to his wages, his outrage flared. “We need to do something!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been doing this for 19 years, and brand-new nurses, cops and firefighters all make more than I do.”
When I mentioned that nursing, public safety and the fire service all had been through significant labor movements, he blurted, “I won’t join a union.” When I suggested a union might improve his wages and give him a retirement package, he said, “No way. I don’t want to be under the union’s thumb. If we got a union in here, we’d have to do what the union wanted. If the union says strike, you strike. If the union says take this contract, you take it. I’m too damn independent to have anyone tell me what to do.”
When we got around to the organization, he was highly critical of his bosses. “I don’t trust them,” he said. But when asked for examples of why he does not trust, he was hard pressed to come up with anything meaningful and acknowledged that management was not doing a bad job—he was just suspicious of anyone in a management role.
What I find instructive about Dave is not his particular political leanings or his suspicion of unions and management, but how he is made up of a complex mixture of fears, beliefs, suspicions and strong opinions that often conflict with each other. He expresses a lot of fear about the world and yet does not hesitate to take risks to help strangers. He sees himself as a victim but is also a fiercely independent thinker. He wants to improve his income but is bound by a deep altruism. He is a good medic and has good ideas, but he is not a listener, he’s not a joiner, and he likes to argue.
Out of efficiency, many bosses try to find quick ways to understand, motivate and manage the Daves of their world. But it rarely works. After listening attentively to Dave for about 30 minutes, I found him surprisingly open and less strident. When I asked him how a boss should manage him, he said, “I just want the truth and want to know where I stand.” I suspect he meant it, but I doubt it would be effective without the boss investing significant time in listening to him. And these days, who has time for that?
John Becknell is the founding publisher of Best Practices. You can reach him at jmbecknell@gmail.com.
