Six Leadership Lessons from Hector, The Alaskan/Siberian Husky

Article by Herb Rubenstein

With special thanks to Tom Hardy of Norway, the sledding organizer on December 30, 2014, and musher who assigned Hector to my sled, to Dag Broch, the owner of the kennel and sledding operation, Tana Husky, www.tanahusky.no, and to Inkeri Laitinen who owns Hector.

Introduction

Being a musher (driver) of an Alaskan/Siberian dog sled team is not something every kid who grew up in Shreveport, Louisiana gets to do. Today, it happened. Hector, my lead dog in my four dog sled, displayed four great leadership behaviors that I have written about for years. He also displayed two leadership behaviors that I have noticed from time to time, but have never written about, nor have I seen any other leadership author write about them. So, here’s to Hector. The four known and widely discussed leadership behaviors are described first, followed by number five, and the very, very important sixth leadership behavior displayed by Hector.

Hector is on the front right of the four-dog team I am “leading.” He is nine years old. Strong, a true racer who loves to run, loves to lead, and loves to win. We had sled number three in a caravan of seven sleds in Norway on December 30, 2014. It was cold, very cold. I estimate it was 15 degrees below zero Fahrenheit, or minus 26 degrees Celsius. My thumbs estimated it to be a lot colder, until they could not feel anything for about an hour, but they came back just fine. My feet thought it was at least 15 below (F).1 Now, on to Hector and his six leadership lessons.

Leadership Lesson Number One - Start First

Hector was the clear leader of the four dogs. The dog to his left was younger and smaller and after each stop, when I gave my dogs a command to restart, the dog on his left would never move first among the dogs. (We would stop for many reasons – primarily when the sled in front of ours stopped!) Hector was always the “first one out of the gate – the first dog to start moving upon my command. While this could be an attribute of a good follower, Hector added one other behavior to show that his “starting first” was him showing me, himself, and the other dogs that he was the leader. The fact is that Hector would make it very clear that he wanted to start running soon after every time we stopped, well before my command. Starting first, and encouraging others to start I noticed that the folks at Nuorgam, Finland, and in neighboring northern Norway do not say “minus”when they say the temperature. They don’t need to. When they say “20” degrees this means 20 below in Celsius, (the equivalent of negative or minus “4” Fahrenheit). It is very clear that they do not mean +20 Celsius because that is the equivalent of 68 degrees Fahrenheit, and even in the summer it does not often get to +20 Celsius in this region. The region has an average high of 56 degrees Fahrenheit, or 23 Celsius during the summer.

Lead dogs do different things and do things differently from other dogs. Hector, like some of the dogs described in The Cruelest Miles by Gay Salisbury and Laney Salisbury, was the dog that communicated with the musher. In that book, Hurricane, the lead dog, and the musher, Black Luk, of Alaska communicated about the ice on the lake getting soft and Hurricane sped up the group of dogs to help the sled get across and through a very dangerous situation. One time a musher, Scott Allen, a racer of some renown went through the ice. Submerged, he was helpless. But his lead dog Dubby tried to get closer to him so he could grab on to Dubby harness, but as the dogs got closer, all of them but Dubby would get scared and would pull away. Dubby led the dogs to run a short distance away from Scott, and turned toward Scott, running right past him where Scott could grab ahold of the sled and pull himself out of the frozen water.

Start first means for humans and for lead dogs, decide and act. No other dog but Dubby would have maneuvered that sled back to Scott. Also, no other dog but Hurricane in the group of understood the thinness of the ice, the danger, and knew enough to run faster so the sled would ride higher and lighter on the ice, and get them through a very dangerous situation.

Leadership Lesson Number Two – Know Where the Goal Is and the Route and How to Have Fun Along The Way

In this case the GOAL of today’s dog sledding experience for the dogs is clear – get back to the starting point – with doghouses and water (which did freeze very quickly) and the huge bones the dogs would be given after the run. The goal for the musher, the driver, is to enjoy the experience, learn from it, and to get back to the starting point, as well; because the human driver, the musher, is freezing and wants the hot chocolate, hot juice, the cookies, to stand near the campfire, and to congratulate the other participants, and especially, thank the dogs for not deciding to just take a nap in the middle of the forest in Norway on a very, very cold day.

Hector knew where he was coming from and where he was going. This is a second leadership lesson by Hector. Know from where you started, know your path, and at every moment know where you stand in relation to the goal you seek to reach. Part of this leadership set of behaviors demonstrated brilliantly by Hector is to know along your path, or the path of your team, the barriers to achieving your goal. The main barriers in the beautiful Norwegian countryside for dogsleds, you would think, would be trees, rivers, highways/roads with cars, and shrubs. OK, there was only one road we crossed and not many cars on the road, but we did need a person to go out on the road and stop traffic at some distance from where we crossed the road.

In fact, there are two other significant barriers to successfully reaching the goal of ending up where one started. They are - steep up hill climbs and steep downhill runs, with serious curves on the downhill parts. It was clear that Hector knew this run and you could feel him and see him speed up when he saw a hill. What made this behavior very scary indeed for the driver (me) was that Hector would speed up when he saw a steep up hill climb and when he saw a steep downhill run, curves or not. He would speed up to greet the uphill portion because he hated to stop, and he would speed up when he saw a downhill portion coming, because he loved to run fast.

Hector knew where he was in relation to his starting point and his goal and he knew the ROUTE to attain his goal and how to address the barriers (except for that downhill curvy part, which Hector could always navigate, but an inexperienced masher like me is a pretty iffy proposition, and certainly a very scary one.

Although humans don’t always know the “optimal” route to accomplish a goal since the goal might be something that has never been accomplished by another human being before in history, humans must know, in general, the barriers to reaching the goal, and the approaches that are most likely to overcome the known or expected barriers along the way that could derail any attempt to reach the goal. Hector knew two general leadership approaches. First, he knew to speed up to get as much momentum at the beginning of a steep hill in order to achieve momentum that would help him and his team get up a steep uphill climb. Good strategy. Second, he knew he and his three other teammates loved to run fast, so he knew to speed up going down hills even when there were curves because this was FUN to Hector and his team. In Hector’s defense for this potentially dangerous behavior with regard to the human driver, Hector, being Tom’s dog, also knew a good musher could handle those curves going really fast. (I did ok, sort of, on these downhill, curvy portions - more details on that below).

Leadership Lesson Number Three – Check In On Your Team Regularly and Take Care of Your Team

I tipped the sled over one time. Not bad for a beginner, but Hector was not happy with me. Rule number one when you tip over a dog sled is KEEP HOLDING ON to the handle or any other part of the sled you can grab onto, or else the dogs will take off once you let go of the sled and the sled will be quickly out of your reach! I was not going quickly when I tipped the sled over, so the sled and I fell over quickly, but with a thud. For a second, or maybe less, after the fall, my hands were not on the handle or any part of the sled. Immediately upon noticing I was not holding onto the sled in violation of rule number one, I grabbed the sled (and felt it start to move) and looked up at the dogs.

Hector was having a fit. He was barking so loudly that I then heard the other dogs in the four sleds behind me start barking. All of the dogs started having a fit. Hector had alerted every thing he could that there was trouble, rather than just taking off the way most sled dogs would have done. He communicated instantly and clearly there was trouble, a clear leadership sign. Within a second or two, I was back standing up on the back rails of the sled giving a command to Hector and the dogs to run, and Hector immediately turned around, looked forward, stopped barking, and started running. (I will get back to this leadership lesson in number four below). Basically, Hector was taking care of me by barking and letting the other dogs and sled drivers that something was wrong.

Hector also took care of his running mate to his left during the run. Many times during our two hours sledding Hector would look to his left, at this running companion, touch the other dog with his nose and check to see how the dog was doing. Clearly, Hector CHECKED IN ON HIS TEAM AND TOOK CARE OF HIS TEAM.

Leadership Lesson Number Four – When A Mistake Happens, Get Over It Fast

Mistake, I tipped over the sled. Hector reacted brilliantly, but as soon as he saw that I was back in the driver’s “seat” and giving commands, he got over it, and looked forward and started running. He GOT OVER IT FAST. Actually, he got over it instantly. As he moved forward quickly and led the other dogs to start running very fast again, it actually gave me confidence and helped me get over it instantly as well, for key two reasons. First, I had to get over tipping over the sled instantly, because now the sled was moving forward very quickly and there were greater challenges coming towards me very quickly. And, secondly, with Hector setting the pace and running full out, we, our team, all five of us, were back working together as a team and negotiating all of the immediate and present challenges, with a little more knowledge about the potential of hitting the side of a trail where there was a mound gained from the spill.

These four leadership lessons are all well known and have been written about over and over. Still, there is much to learn from reviewing them with Hector as our guide. Now, here comes the two big leadership lessons Hector displayed today and that the leadership literature does not teach either one of them very often, if at all. The following leadership lessons from Hector may be his greatest leadership secrets.

Leadership Lesson Number Five – When You Realize or Believe You Can’t Succeed Alone – Stop Immediately and Get Help

Since I was driving the sled alone and did not have a passenger, plus had four great dogs, we were “light” and fast. My dogs, especially in the beginning, could get the sled and me up and over all of the hills easily. After running for over an hour, the hills got steeper and the dogs were getting a little tired. I had been instructed that on many hills I would need to get off the rails and push the slide forward to help the dogs get the sled over the top of the hill. Early in the run I noticed on most major inclines, all of the other sled drivers were getting off their sleds, because their dogs had stopped going up the hill. The best drivers would get off their sleds as soon as their sled started up the hill, and the dogs would not stop, but would run slowly up the hill with the driver walking quickly or running next to the sled to help push it up the hill, helping the dogs.

I was a very slow learner in this regard. But in doing so, I noticed an interesting pattern, again led by Hector. On the steeper hills later in the run, the dogs would run up a good portion of the steep hill and then just stop. I would get off the rails of the sled, begin to run or walk quickly pushing the sled and Hector first, and the other three dogs second, would begin to run up the hill again and easily make it over the hill. What was fascinating was that Hector and the dogs would stop on a dime on the hill, well before they had given their maximum effort to go up the hill. They did not struggle or striving as they went up the hill. They would run until they realized they could not make it up the hill without help, and they would stop.

They did not wear themselves out or injure themselves “trying” to make it up the hill. They did not struggle. They gave it a solid effort, but well before they were at the end of their strength, endurance or energy, they stopped and basically let it be known that they would not continue until they received help or assistance. These dogs were clearly not going to burn themselves out, with miles to go, as many humans do in many endeavors. Once they realized they could not make it completely over the hill (and I know they could have gone further up the hill with their strength if they “efforted” more), they had assessed the situation and were smart enough to stop. Yes, they might have wanted to continue to run, in some sense, but they made a calculation. That calculation was, “I have many miles to go and it is not worth it to burn myself out or hurt myself on this hill. The driver can help so let’s stop on a dime and the driver will get the message to get off the rails and help push this sled over this steep hill. Hector made the call every time. He stopped. The other dogs stopped immediately after Hector stopped.

What is the leadership lesson? It is: When You Realize or Believe You Can’t Succeed Alone, Stop Immediately and Get Help.

We do not see this leadership lesson in the literature on leadership. Instead, we talk about how to avoid burnout and how to use your team, but we never get to the heart of the issue, which is your job is to avoid injury, burnout, unnecessary stress, effort, exhaustion during the process of leading. And, the lesson Hector was demonstrating is that one great leadership approach to avoiding burnout or injury is to stop well before you have to, but as soon as you realize that you are not going to achieve the goal without injury or a wasteful exertion of energy, and immediately call for or demand assistance from your team. This is one of Hector’s enduring leadership lessons. When you can’t make it alone, or could only at an unreasonable cost, stop immediately and ask for assistance early enough in the process so once you get the assistance you need, you have enough energy and you are injury free enough, to continue to lead your team to achieve the goal. Hector’s lesson was clear – use your team so that with their assistance you and all members of the team have enough energy and strength to tackle the next hill with gusto and make it to the finish line, the goal.

Leadership Lesson Number Six – Give The “Look of Leadership” to Make Your Point

So far, you might be saying, I know all that and “This Hector, is not such a great leader if that is all he has got to show me.” And, you might be right. Hector has not read one single leadership book or article, but he leads every day. Of course, Hector knows and displays all of these leadership behaviors. However, leadership lesson number five, get assistance as soon as you realize you can’t achieve the goal by yourself, and well before you use all of your strength and energy on trying to reach the goal, was, to me, worth all of the subzero weather that Norway could throw at me this trip. Leadership lesson number six is an even more important leadership lesson. Yes, after reading Hector’s leadership lesson number six, I think you will agree that Hector is a great leader.

Being a musher or dog sled driver is complicated, but to make it very simple, one really only does three things on slow, noncompetitive dog sledding on clearly marked and worn trails during a winter vacation in northern Norway. You (the musher/driver, stand with both feet on the back rails of the sled and hold on to the handle of the sled. Not too tough, except when you tip the sled over. Second, you step on the metal “brake” with one foot or the other, or possibly both feet to make a hard stop. The brake is in between the rails right underneath you, and is a square piece of metal with an irregular bottom that then you put your weight on it, it digs into the snow to create resistance and slows down or stops the sled. If you put all of your weight on the brake, depending on the number and strength of the dogs and your weight and force, you can stop the sled pretty quickly. (There are also two alternative stopping devices, super brakes, you can use to make sure the sled cannot move, liking “parking brakes” on a car).

Now, I am sure that some mushers actually steer the sled precisely in the direction that the musher wants the sled to go, but I am not at this level. I am not the lead musher in the front sled and I stay on groomed paths and just hold on for dear life, doing everything I can to keep my balance and occasionally moving the handle of the sled left or right to avoid some obvious danger, usually just in the nick of time. The lead musher in the front sled is the one who tells the dogs “left” or “right” in Norwegian when they come to a fork in the path instructing them on which fork to take. I had no such responsibilities.

So, I would, as instructed, by Tom Hardy, use my brake a lot, especially on downhill curvy portions of the trail. Since I was the third sled, in the beginning I just assumed my dogs would stop when the sled ahead of me stopped. But, I was wrong. Hector always wanted to get ahead of the second sled and when the sled ahead of me stopped Hector did not even slow down. Hector just wanted to keep running.

There would be times when I really wanted to lag far behind the sled right in front of me especially when I saw that we were going to toward an uphill climb, since the sled in front of me had six dogs plus a driver and a “passenger” in front. I knew our sled was much faster all around, and especially on the uphill slopes than the sled ahead of me. So, when I wanted to lag well behind the sled in front of me in preparation for the coming uphill section, I would keep my foot pressing on the “brake.”

And, when I kept my foot was on the break, the gait of the dogs was just not right. They were “out of sync” and they knew what was going on. They knew they were pulling against an unnatural force and they did not like it. Five or six times during the dog sledding when I had my foot on the break for extended periods of time, Hector would turn his head and give me “THAT LOOK” as if to say, “What are you doing? - let’s go. Take your foot off the brake, NOW!” Hector had a point he wanted to make and he could not talk, he did not know my name, but he knew to turn his head, look me right in the eye and basically say, “Enough with the brakes already, I am leading this pack and I say “run. Get that foot off the brake, pronto.” And when Hector would turn his head and look me in the eye, and GIVE ME THAT LOOK OF LEADERSHIP, I would immediately take my foot off the brake following Hector’s “orders.” Then, in response, Hector would immediately turn his head back to the front, and immediately attain his beautiful stride going full out as fast as he and his team of dogs could run.

In the US certainly and in the west generally, when we think of a “look of leadership” we think of some type of attractiveness or quality of looks which we ascribe to a person who has the “look of leadership.” (See the work of Alex Todorov cited by Jonathan Haidt in The Righteous Mind, pp. 68-69). This is not what I mean when I say that Hector gave me that “look of leadership.”

Hector does not “look like a leader.” He is nine years old. He is not statuesque. The look of leadership he was giving me was a look that connected him to me. He wanted to let me know he had a point of view about what we should be doing and he looked me in the eye and I got it. He only turned toward me and gave me that “look of leadership” when I had the brake on for extended periods of time and was basically being too cautious. By this point in the run, Hector knew what I could handle and what I could not handle driving the sled, so when we were going downhill quickly through curves, and I had my foot on the brake for an extended time, he kept looking forward. But, when he thought we should be going faster, he turned around and with his “look of leadership,” he lead me to take my foot off the brake.

I have read hundreds of leadership books, and written a few, but have never seen in print a discussion of this “look of leadership.” I have seen this “look” from real leaders many times, and it is a staple of many actors and actresses in many plays and movies. There is much to explore in the future of the leadership literature regarding this “look of leadership” as video and photographs are taking over from the written word as the major means of communication.

Hector has the “look of leadership,” used it brilliantly, and what made it so effective was that he only used it on certain occasions to communicate a clear message. He knew that I ‘got what he was trying to communicate’ because he felt me release the break as soon as our eyes connected each time he looked around with that “look.” We were certainly partners, and he was clearly the leader. The deal was - I ride the brake for extended times, but if you (Hector) turn around and give me that “look,” I take my foot off the brake and I let Hector and his team of dogs run full out. So, Hector ran the show, and by taking my foot off the break when he turned and gave me the order or the “look,” the message I was giving him was “you are right, you are in charge.”

Conclusion

What is your look of leadership? Have you ever used this leadership approach, maybe unconsciously? Can you develop this look of leadership? Can you identify ways that others would give you a leadership look. I am not talking about a “disciplinary” look that every parent uses relentlessly, and with less and less effectiveness, on their children as they grow older. I am talking about a look that makes a clear request to someone to step up, or step out, or do something positive in the moment. That was Hector’s “look of leadership” and his secret leadership lesson, lesson number six.

I hope you will use this look of leadership concept to improve your leadership skills and leadership effectiveness going forward. It will be interesting to see how leadership trainers create training to assist all of us in improving our look of leadership as a means of communicating with our team, with other leaders, and with those who look to us for leadership.