Author: Rosabeth Moss Kanter

David Karp, who sold Tumblr to Yahoo for $1.1 billion, is one more in a line of twenty-somethings and even pre-twenty-somethings whose technology innovations have made them a fortune.

We’ve seen this before. In the 1990s, young techies with purple hair, ponytails, and earrings (that was the men) disrupted boardrooms; in the 2000s, they wear hoodies. College dropouts such as Mark Zuckerberg have quickly created empires. Parents or future parents-in-law have lent their kitchen tables and garages, as Sergey Brin’s mother-in-law-to-be Esther Wojcicki did for Google.

Tumblr’s Karp takes all this one step further. He dropped out of high school at his mother’s urging, and bypassed the garage phase to go directly to New York City offices.

This an extreme version of American culture in action. Historically, the U.S. was the first nation in which the young routinely taught their parents. Parents are pals, or angel investors in their kids’ ventures. Some venture capital firms go beyond college campuses to look for high school students with good ideas, as David Fialkow, founder of General Catalyst (and a friend) said recently.

Added to this is a rising disdain for large companies, or establishments of any kind. When a Twitter commentator referred to an idea as “that’s so Fortune 500,” he wasn’t offering a compliment.

Does this mean that older generations have nothing to teach the next (except on a short Khan Academy math video)? Are the founders of new digital startups flourishing without seeking the “adult supervision” that used to be a tech company norm (the way Google’s young founders brought in Eric Schmidt as CEO until Larry Page was ready)?

Before Karp syndrome becomes the new version of “don’t trust anyone over thirty” reasoning that prevailed during earlier eras of student protests, let’s consider the reasons older generations can serve as sources of wisdom for young entrepreneurs. I’ve observed six characteristics among digital entrepreneurs that suggest room for inter-generational relationships:

They are learning all the time. The learning might not take place in formal settings, but entrepreneurially-oriented young people can be voracious and critical readers, devouring textbooks or online sources to learn a field fast when they don’t want to enroll in a course. On campuses, the line between “curricular” and “extra-curricular” is blurring, as peer groups pursue topics that might teach more than classes or at least feel more relevant. Internships, “after-school” apprenticeships like those offered by Citizen Schools, practical problems, and the chance for independent projects or business-building as part of formal schooling seems to encourage young people to stay in school longer, because school is more relevant — or at least that’s what some preliminary observations suggest. John Werner of TEDx Beacon Street (where I spoke), are organizing learning communities around TEDx speakers, wherever they are. Sharing knowledge-from-experience in online forums reaches young entrepreneurs and opens relationship possibilities.

They love mentors and thrive when they have them. Even more important than access to capital, some analysts say, is access to advice. New business incubators are becoming increasingly common in the U.S. and elsewhere; the best results come from those that provide access to sources of advice, which is why University-linked incubators show a slightly higher survival rate for new ventures after the crucial five-year mark, as my research overview for the HBS US Competitiveness Project showed. As many more young people try the David Karp/Mark Zuckerberg path, the demand for mentors increases. Mentors can be at the cutting-edge while sharing the benefits of experience — and perhaps getting a new business tool. In Massachusetts, some of us working on economic development for distressed areas have urged established companies to provide some space in their facilities for startups, whether related or not.

They appreciate great questions. While they don’t always like to be told how the world supposedly works, and might not know much history, they resonate with dialogue that allows them to express their views, and they like questions that get them thinking new thoughts along new directions. They can be cynical about praise, especially if it feels patronizing, but they like provocative give-and-take.

They need connections. They might have social media networks and tap crowd-sourcing or crowd-funding sources, but they don’t yet know very many people who are well-connected in worlds they might want to enter. Opening doors and suggesting contacts makes everything else you say seem wiser.

They work for food. Well, not exactly. But small investments can go a long way at the early stages of idea development for students who do not yet have families to support or expensive tastes. General Catalyst’s Fialkow urged a group of leaders to consider angel investing in young people for whom a thousand dollars is a lot of money; a modest pool could connect with dozens of young entrepreneurs. Adding mentoring and connections to the cash could increase the success potential.

They care about mission and values. The evidence keeps mounting. In a survey of young people interested in media and communications in Europe issued by Publicis Groupe, the results indicate that an expectation of “social responsibility” is now a given. They feel it is inextricably linked to business strategy. When they start their own businesses, the newer generations often have a social mission right from the start. When I ask students what they learn from CEOs of large established companies, the lessons often have to do with having inspiring principles and sticking with them. Finding ways to involve young entrepreneurs in social causes, or to find the entrepreneurs among those volunteering to do good, can create bonds. The social mission/business mission combination is powerful, as I showed in my book SuperCorp. Business plan contests increasingly include social entrepreneurs.

These six characteristics can guide the young to more readily learn from their elders, while older generations pass on new knowledge and opportunities. Wise older heads can help more startups succeed — and perhaps tumble onto the next Tumblr in the process.

Lurking behind the question of jobs — whether there are enough of them, how hard we should work at them, and what kind the future will bring — is a major problem of job engagement. Too many people are tuned out, turned off, or ready to leave. But there’s one striking exception.

The happiest people I know are dedicated to dealing with the most difficult problems. Turning around inner city schools. Finding solutions to homelessness or unsafe drinking water. Supporting children with terminal illnesses. They face the seemingly worst of the world with a conviction that they can do something about it and serve others.

Ellen Goodman, a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist (and long-time friend), has turned grief to social purpose. She was distraught over the treatment of her dying mother. After leaving her job as a syndicated columnist, she founded The Conversation Project, a campaign to get every family to face the difficult task of talking about death and end-of-life care.

Gilberto Dimenstein, another writer-turned-activist in Brazil, spreads happiness through social entrepreneurship. When famous Brazilian pianist Joao Carlos Martins lost the use of most of his fingers and almost gave into deepest despair, Dimenstein urged him to teach music to disadvantaged young people. A few years later, Martins, now a conductor, exudes happiness. He has nurtured musical talent throughout Brazil, brought his youth orchestras to play at Carnegie Hall and Lincoln Center in New York, and has even regained some use of his fingers.

For many social entrepreneurs, happiness comes from the feeling they are making a difference.

I see that same spirit in business teams creating new initiatives that they believe in. Gillette’s Himalayan project team took on the challenge of changing the way men shave in India, where the common practice of barbers using rusty blades broken in two caused bloody infections. A team member who initially didn’t want to leave Boston for India found it his most inspiring assignment. Similarly, Procter & Gamble’s Pampers team in Nigeria find happiness facing the problem of infant mortality and devising solutions, such as mobile clinics that sent a physician and two nurses to areas lacking access to health care.

In research for my book Evolve!, I identified three primary sources of motivation in high-innovation companies: mastery, membership, and meaning. Another M, money, turned out to be a distant fourth. Money acted as a scorecard, but it did not get people up-and-at ’em for the daily work, nor did it help people go home every day with a feeling of fulfillment.

People can be inspired to meet stretch goals and tackle impossible challenges if they care about the outcome. I’ll never forget the story of how a new general manager of the Daimler Benz operations in South Africa raised productivity and quality at the end of the apartheid era by giving the workers something to do that they valued: make a car for Nelson Mandela, just released from prison. A plant plagued by lost days, sluggish workers, and high rates of defects produced the car in record time with close to zero defects. The pride in giving Mandela the Mercedes, plus the feeling of achievement, helped the workers maintain a new level of performance. People stuck in boring, rote jobs will spring into action for causes they care about.

Heart-wrenching emotion also helps cultivate a human connection. It is hard to feel alone, or to whine about small things, when faced with really big matters of deprivation, poverty, and life or death. Social bonds and a feeling of membership augment the meaning that comes from values-based work.

Of course, daunting challenges can be demoralizing at times. City Year corps members working with at-risk middle school students with failing grades from dysfunctional homes see improvement one day, only to have new problems arise the next. Progress isn’t linear; it might not be apparent until after many long days of hard work have accumulated. It may show up in small victories, like a D student suddenly raising his hand in class because he understands the math principle. (I see this from service on the City Year board. You can find dozens of these stories on Twitter under #makebetterhappen.)

It’s now common to say that purpose is at the heart of leadership, and people should find their purpose and passion. I’d like to go a step further and urge that everyone regardless of their work situation, have a sense of responsibility for at least one aspect of changing the world. It’s as though we all have two jobs: our immediate tasks and the chance to make a difference.

Leaders everywhere should remember the M’s of motivation: mastery, membership, and meaning. Tapping these non-monetary rewards (while paying fairly) are central to engagement and happiness. And they are also likely to produce innovative solutions to difficult problems.

If you want certainty, here it is: my surefire predictions about the future. The next two Popes won’t be a woman. At least three more corporate executives will be fired for shady financial dealings. Despite best efforts, the proposed American Airlines-US Airways merger will hit points of turbulence.

Everything else is up in the air.

Forecasting is a dicey business in times of rapid change, especially when the predictions involve scary scenarios of gloom and doom. For example, take these recent dire predictions: Machines will steal all the jobs. Youth violence will grow. Aging populations will drain national resources. Democracy will disappear as power shifts to developing countries with authoritarian regimes where no one cares about voice and participation.

Predictions like these assume a straight line from some problematic perturbations to disastrous conclusions — without any human intervention. They assume that everything we invent to solve one problem creates other, more serious problems (like those job-stealing computers), taking the law of unintended consequences to an extreme. They assume that people are helpless victims of powerful forces beyond their control. They assume that there are no counter-trends or embryonic developments.

Why give the gloom-mongers that much attention? Why not make an opposite set of assumptions, that our most human characteristics — imagination, creativity — will appear in new guises to save ourselves, our jobs, and even democracy?

Consider these plausible scenarios based on small but already-visible phenomena that might become big future trends:

1. New enterprises, often led by rising generations, will fill gaps and plant seeds of hope. Teenagers will start social ventures to address nearly every concern — e.g., to raise awareness of carbon footprints, to get laws passed about emissions, to raise money to find a cure for cancer. Even pre-teens will participate, like the 9-year-old who started Katy’s Krops to grow vegetables to feed the homeless. In itself, that’s a sign that cities will become greener, as social entrepreneurs, supported by mayors, promote urban agriculture. Young scientists will invent energy-saving or health-promoting products, incubate new ventures while still in college, and sell them to markets eager for ways to control energy or health care costs. Innovative forms of financing, such as Kickstarter, will continue to grow, also invented by social entrepreneurs.

2. Visual and performing arts will be resurgent, especially on the local level, and they will compete effectively with broadcast media and digital media. The arts are at the center of the next wave of revitalization in cities such as Miami, where big new performing arts facilities and museums accompany a lively new set of artists’ studios in a formerly bleak warehouse district. Designers will become even more valued members of product development and planning teams in every field. Connections will be forged between between tech start-ups and the arts, marrying two formerly isolated communities around apps, for example. The inherent exclusivity and uniqueness of live events will grow in importance as content can be accessed virtually — and virtual reach will increase demand for attendance at live events. Live performances will fuel economic booms; performers will make more money from merchandise sales at events than from albums, as Jazz Roots founder (and my friend) Larry Rosen observed. Machines like Roomba, the robot vacuum cleaner, will do the dirty work while people do the emotional work, with the expressiveness of the arts.

3. New alliances will be struck across the generations, and society will benefit. Aging baby boomers will balance golf with giving back, and they will want to join the rising generation in creating social ventures. For the young, these change-the-world efforts will ensure a better future and maybe enhance resumes; for those in their post-career days, social ventures are the focus of their next life stage and the legacy they want to create. Already the idea of encore careers is taking hold. At Harvard, the Advanced Leadership Initiative that I chair helps accomplished leaders transition from their income-earning years to their next years of service; among the many benefits are the partnerships they form with students. An aging population means that more experienced leaders live longer. That is an asset and societal resource. And when effectively put to work, these leaders are healthier; they can improve health care rather than drain resources.

To be sure, there are problems and always will be — another surefire prediction. But as long as people populate the earth, we can solve them. Maybe we should sprinkle a few more of those seeds that built Katie’s Krops and top it off with a jazz concert. Rather than being victims of uncontrollable forces, we can use our imaginations and creativity to create the future.

Leaders must be firm and foster accountability, but they also must know when to forgive past wrongs in the service of building a brighter future. One of the most courageous acts of leadership is to forgo the temptation to take revenge on those on the other side of an issue or those who opposed the leader’s rise to power.

Instead of settling scores, great leaders make gestures of reconciliation that heal wounds and get on with business. This is essential for turnarounds or to prevent mergers from turning into rebellions against acquirers who act like conquering armies.

Nelson Mandela famously forgave his oppressors. After the end of apartheid, which had fostered racial separation and kept blacks impoverished, Mandela became South Africa’s first democratically elected President. Some in his political party clamored for revenge against members of the previous regime or perhaps even all privileged white people. Instead, to avoid violence, stabilize and unite the nation, and attract investment in the economy, Mandela appointed a racially integrated cabinet, visited the widow of one of the top apartheid leaders, and created the Truth and Reconciliation Commission that would clear the air and permit moving forward.

Forgiveness can be costly, like the massive amounts of debt forgiveness toward countries like Greece to help create a stable foundation for restoring growth to Europe. Forgiveness can sometimes mean investing in groups that have done something negative — a counterintuitive but often very effective strategy. A striking example, which I recount in my book SuperCorp, occurred in South Korea, not a country known for being kinder and gentler, and yet forgiveness and seeking harmony were at the heart of a major business success.

Shinhan Bank, a fairly new entrepreneurial bank, was set to acquire Chohung Bank, a larger, much older establishment-oriented bank that had hit hard times, when Chohung employees staged an embarrassing action. To protest the takeover, 3,500 men shaved their heads and piled the hair in front of Shinhan’s headquarters in downtown Seoul. Shinhan signed an agreement with Chohung’s union that astonished some observers. Far from taking revenge for the protest (or walking away from the deal), Shinhan agreed to raise wages, promise no layoffs, have equal representation of both banks on key committees, and wait three years for full integration. These and other investments in the future generated a significant payoff. Within a year, shareholder value had increased (it decreases in a majority of mergers) and employees from both banks were informally integrating, with the union neutralized. Within three years, Shinhan Financial Group was outperforming not only the industry but the entire South Korean stock market.

“Revenge is not justice,” says General Douglas MacArthur, as played by Tommy Lee Jones in Emperor, an engrossing new feature film about the surrender of the Japanese to American troops at the end of World War II. Like the hit movie Lincoln, the movie Emperor dramatizes a turning point in history replete with leadership lessons. (The movie will be released March 8; I saw an early screening thanks to producer Gary Foster, a personal friend.) The question requiring leadership judgment is whether to hang Japan’s Emperor Hirohito for war crimes. There’s pressure from Washington and his fellow officers to punish the emperor, but General MacArthur, seeing that Japan teeters on civil unrest and reveres its emperor, refuses to give in. He instead uses his power for reconciliation. The emperor remains in place, though stripped of his divinity. In a gesture of contrition, Hirohito leaves the palace to go to American headquarters for the first time. In the mesmerizing final scene, MacArthur and Hirohito pose side by side for a photograph. As we know from history, the rebuilding of war-torn Japan was an economic and social triumph.

If revenge is not justice, it is not strategy either. The founder of a second-tier computer company was pushed out a few years after the company went public. I watched him gather investors and regain control with something to prove — that they were wrong to push him out. Once back at the helm, he had no clear alternative direction. The company foundered and was sold at a low valuation. Let’s hope that revenge against critics isn’t the motivation for Michael Dell to take Dell private or the founder of Best Buy to attempt a takeover.

Anger and blame are unproductive emotions that tie up energy in destroying rather than creating. People who want to save a marriage, for example, must let go of the desire to hurt a partner the way they think the partner has hurt them and instead make a gesture of reconciliation.

Those whose main motivation is to settle scores and get payback — to obstruct rather than construct — are on the wrong side of history. Their legacy is not rebuilding, but rubble. From (ahem) members of Congress to leaders in any turnaround situation, it’s a lesson worth remembering: Taking revenge can destroy countries, companies, and relationships. Forgiveness can rebuild them.

Being in the right place at the right time can make or break careers and companies.

A classic old film comedy, Being There, stars the late Peter Sellers as dimwitted Chance the Gardener, who tended the grounds for a wealthy elderly gentleman. After the gentleman dies and Chance dons his clothes, Chance is swept into high VIP circles by a series of accidents. His name is misheard as “Chauncey Gardiner,” and his mumbled observations on gardens are taken as wise strategic metaphor. He is soon a major national advisor. And just because he is there, opportunities proliferate; he is chosen to head a significant company. The final scene shows him with one foot almost at a pond, umbrella held high, presumably about to walk on water.

This is an argument for the proposition, also tongue-in-cheek, that 80 percent of success in life is just showing up. It’s hard to catch the opportunities without being there. That’s why showing up is the first key to successful leadership of change (of course, there are several more, as I indicated in a recent TEDx talk).

For companies, being there means having a presence on the ground to deeply understand places that hold resources important for the future. Kodak might have been a different, much greater company now, dominating digital imaging the way it had dominated film-based photography, if the company had “been there” in Silicon Valley soaking up the sunshine of digital creativity, hiring a new Internet-savvy generation, and connecting with entrepreneurs inventing the future. Instead, the firm remained firmly in Rochester, New York, capital of an older technology era.

In contrast, Reuters, an information-provider that was also threatened with Internet-caused obsolescence, reluctantly allowed a key staff member to move from London to California, where he showed up in the places that emerging talent hung out, including the Stanford student cafeteria. By being there, he was in preferred position to invest in many star start-ups (which could pick and choose their investors) and make friends with potential partners. He also brought in global executives to see it for themselves, which accelerated decisions about changes in the parent company. Two years later, connections solidified, he could return to London and make occasional return visits. Five years later, the CEO declared that Reuters had transformed into an Internet company.

It’s an apparent paradox: The declining significance of place is associated with the rising significance of place. Technology helps us connect with anyone anywhere nearly instantaneously, crowdsource ideas, and work on virtual teams without ever being in the same place. But being in the same place at the right time means being able to make serendipitous connections, and even to get mistaken for someone important. That’s why executives trek up the snowy Swiss mountains to Davos, or why art dealers flock to Art Basel and Art Basel Miami. Furthermore, showing up and being there has an emotional appeal even when it lacks instrumental value. People pay a premium to attend live sports and entertainment that they could get free on TV or the Web.

Showing up in a particular place is also critical to the new globalization, which increasingly means localization. Instead of inflicting one-size-fits-all standardized universal products on every market, companies realize the importance of adapting to local customs and tastes and learning from them. At Procter & Gamble Brazil, this is referred to as “tropicalizing” P&G products designed at Cincinnati headquarters. It is part of a new logic that has moved brand teams out of Cincinnati to many other locations.

Some companies that seek to enter new international markets do the philanthropic equivalent of showing up. Even before establishing a commercial presence, they contribute to communities in ways that give them access to the people and their needs, not to mention goodwill with decision-makers.

In addition to providing knowledge and relationships, showing up is a sign of caring. Coming in person is always more meaningful than doing a video or sending a note. When IBM’s former CEO announced the company’s ten-year innovation priorities by standing in Beijing, he signaled the importance IBM gave to China — even though most of those attending in person saw him on a screen anyway.

How much on-the-ground presence is needed, and for what kinds of activities? This is still an open question, despite many technological wonders, such as the digital glove I saw years ago at the MIT Media Lab that transmitted a handshake or the wraparound 360-degree virtual tours on screens. That frontier will be explored by going to the places where people are inventing the tools.

By all means, work remotely if you can. But never forget that chance plays a role in finding opportunities, just as it did for Chance the Gardener. It’s important to be in the right place, preferably at the right time. And it’s impossible to get started without first showing up.

Gender barriers are being broken everywhere, but a big one remains: Successful re-entry for stay-at-home moms who have opted out of the paid work force to take care of their children.

In theory, those years of family work at home could look great on a resume. Consider the skills required: setting priorities, training others, organizing complex logistics and schedules, and using interpersonal sensitivity to handle difficult people problems. Indeed, some advocates have argued that the time women with advanced degrees spend out of the workplace managing a family is valuable experience for managing back in the paid work world.

I agree it is valuable experience — if the paid job one returns to involves managing a handful of people who are vulnerable and can’t leave. Otherwise, the operating skills for family manager are nothing like the qualifications for workplace professionals.

Don’t get me wrong. I encourage flexible careers that permit multiple choices over a lifetime, with employers who value skills over lockstep career advancement. If women (or men) choose to put their paid work careers on hold while raising children and nurturing a household, I want to see them succeed at reentry and use their talents to the fullest. But myths about the value of their experience as full-time stay-at-home parents are not going to help them succeed in the business world, and some family habits must be unlearned.

Family managers are accustomed to being surrounded mostly by people who are much younger than they are, know little or nothing, and are clearly dependent, unable to function fully on their own. Spending quality time with people with limited vocabularies doesn’t hone complex strategic thinking. But in business workplaces, managers generally need to hire “up,” finding people who are as good or better than they are at significant tasks. Wooing people with career aspirations, then motivating, assessing, and retaining them, is totally different than getting family work done.

Furthermore, family managers who stay home might have a protector and defender in their spouse. But family managers used to having a powerful ally intervene in family conflicts on their behalf won’t benefit from that kind of partnership in most offices. Workplace professionals must stand on their own, something that family managers can forget.

Family managers operate in a world defined by personal relationships and personal favors. Rightfully, loyalty, caring, and deep emotional bonds are important. But in the paid workplace, even the most compassionate ones, objective measurable goals are key. Sentiment can’t substitute for performance.

Carrying over the habits learned from years as a family manager can impede success in subsequent paid careers. For example, a professional with an MBA who went back to the paid workforce failed to rise to the significant responsibilities she craved and didn’t last in that first job. She made classic family manager mistakes: She hired people just like her children, one of them a friend of her son’s, and ignored their lack of qualifications, figuring she could train them. She thought people would do favors for her because they liked her, regardless of results. For marketing, she made lunch dates, not strategic plans.

Structural and institutional norms also impede successful reentry, such as rigid rules requiring people to be all-in the paid workplace or all-out. That only widens the gap between family managers and workplace professionals. This gap disadvantages educated women who might never catch up with their male peers and causes talent to atrophy at a time when society needs every bit of it.

Creative new mechanisms are required to help family managers keep professional skills polished while focused on their children, especially in rapidly changing fields. Former employers who might want them back can offer access to their online training and live events, as well as offering occasional doable-at-home project work. Colleges and universities can target their growing online education arsenal to this segment. Skilled professionals available for part-time assignments can pool together; there are already consulting businesses that operate according to this model. Community centers offering children’s programs can experiment with parallel adult learning exchanges in which family managers talk about their professional fields.

While growing a family is different from succeeding in business, it should be easier to transition between these worlds. Planning for reentry is the next form of investing in the future.