The Two Boats: Why Vision Casting Is a Time Management Tool

All through my twenties and thirties, I'd read the leadership books and sit in the conference sessions, and somebody would eventually say it: you have to cast vision. You have to be a good vision caster.

I'll confess, it always sounded strange to me. I never knew what it meant. I was a doer. I wanted to get to work, solve the problem, build the next thing, and if anybody wanted to know where we were headed, they could watch what I was doing. "Casting vision" sounded soft and, frankly, unproductive.

What I've learned since is that the ability to cast vision well, so that every person on the team truly receives it, is at its core a time management and energy management tool. Let me explain with two boats.

The no-vision boat

Picture two boats in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, each with twelve crew members.

On the first boat, a crew member walks up to the captain and asks, "Where are we going?"

The captain says, "I don't know."

You can imagine the fate of that boat.

The clear-vision boat

On the second boat, a crew member asks the same question, and the captain answers: "We're going 300 miles west to an island called Hawaii. It's about 80 degrees all the time. There are white sandy beaches, low humidity, and the people are kind." Then he tells them what they'll eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner when they get there.

He's described what it looks like, feels like, tastes like, sounds like, and smells like. He has shared where they're going, and the crew has received it.

So which captain is going to work harder? Which one is going to have a better life? Which crew will work harder, and which crew will have the better life? Which boat is using its time and energy well?

Then comes the second question

Let's take it a step further. Say the captain on the first boat does come up with some sort of vision. It's fuzzy, but it's something. The crew asks the natural follow-up: "How are we going to get there?"

"I don't know."

On the clear-vision boat, the crew asks the same thing, and the captain lays it out:

1.) We'll row every morning for three hours, then rest and eat.

2.) In the afternoon, we'll put up the sails and catch whatever afternoon and evening winds we can.

3.) We expect to cover about 10 miles a day. At that pace, with our rests and breaks, we'll likely get there in 30 days.

4.) Any issue goes on the issues list: a broken oar, a storm on the horizon, a sail that needs replacing. Once a day, during a break, we'll stop and work through that list together.

5.) We'll keep a scorecard, and at the end of each day it will show whether we hit our goals or missed them. Everybody is responsible for reporting out on their own numbers.

6.) If we're missing, it goes on the issues list, and we decide together how we'll support each other in hitting the goal the next day.

That is how this crew works its way to Hawaii in 30 days.

Ask the questions again

Which crew is more empowered? Which one is more effective? Which one is spending its time and energy more efficiently? Whose captain has the easier life? Which boat, captain and crew together, is healthier, and which one is flourishing?

When I put it that way, the answer is obvious. On the no-vision boat, the captain spends his days answering the same questions, refereeing arguments about direction, and pulling oars himself because nobody else knows which way to row. The crew burns energy guessing. Everyone works hard and the boat goes in circles.

On the clear-vision boat, the captain's time is freed up because twelve people already know where they're going, how they're getting there, and how they'll know if they're off course. The questions get answered once, clearly, and then the crew carries it.

That's what I missed in my twenties. I thought vision casting was the soft part of leadership, the thing you did before the real work. In our companies, it has turned out to be one of the most practical things I do, because every hour I invest in helping people see where we're going and how we'll get there gets paid back many times over in hours I don't spend re-explaining, correcting, and rescuing.

Don't skip this part

The people on our teams give us their energy eight hours a day, five days a week, fifty weeks a year. That's a lot of a person's life. I believe we owe them a clear picture of where it's all going and a clear plan for how we'll get there together.

If you lead a team of any size, I'm just challenging you to consider: if one of your crew walked up today and asked, "Where are we going, and how are we getting there?", would they get a Hawaii answer, or an "I don't know"?

It may be the most important part of a CEO's job.

Thank you!

-Dave Hooke.