Board Member Casting Call

As we approach this year’s Academy Awards, I’ve been thinking about the best picture of 1957, director Sidney Lumet’s “12 Angry Men.” If you haven’t seen it, it’s worth watching. It’s a terrific courtroom drama – or, more precisely, a jury room drama, as twelve jurors (this was nearly 70 years ago, so they were all men, all white) try to reach a verdict in a murder trial where a teenage boy is accused of killing his abusive father. At the start of the movie, all the jurors except for one – played by Henry Fonda – are in favor of a guilty verdict. By the end of the film, the eleven “guilty” voters all flip to “not guilty,” including the final holdout, an often-apoplectic Lee J. Cobb. Justice prevails.

(Sorry. I should have given you a spoiler alert. Then again, I don’t think I need to worry about spoiling a movie that’s 67 years old…)

“12 Angry Men” captures varying personalities taking vastly differing approaches to group decision making. My premise for today: What would happen if we tried to cast for the range of personalities within a nonprofit board?

I have to admit, the film version of “12 Nonprofit Board Members” wouldn’t make for compelling cinema. There might be moments of drama and flashes of anger, but board meetings usually don’t have much of a narrative arc, or great monologues, or plot twists. For the sake of argument, let’s build up some of the characters’ flaws and quirks to attract the studios’ attention. And, with the understanding that nonprofit board members, even those I lampoon, are good people who are doing their best, for no financial compensation, I offer you these twelve board director characters – composites and amplifications of real-life individuals I’ve seen in action.

1. The Biz-Splainer. This is the guy (and, as a guy, I can affirm that it’s usually… a guy) who takes the language and truisms of the business world and, without hesitation or apology, applies them to the nonprofit realm. The Biz-Splainer doesn’t pause to think that a soft drink company’s advertising approach in its quest for expanded market share might not be relevant to, say, a food pantry or a historic museum, or that the compensation structure at a start-up, which relies heavily on stock ownership, doesn’t quite work when discussing hourly pay for after-school staff at a Boys & Girls Club. But Biz-Splainers gonna ‘splain. Hint: If a board member starts asking about the ROI on a counseling program for veterans, then you have a Biz-Splainer on your hands. (For more on biz-splaining, read Vu Le’s classic post on NonprofitAF.)
2. The Big Thinker. Closely related to the Biz-Splainer (and often the same person), Big Thinkers (BTs) will Think Big Ideas, not infrequently prefacing their comments by saying, “This is a big idea! A REALLY big idea!” or by asserting some platitude along the lines of, “You gotta go big or go home!” BTs rarely take into account the degree of impracticality of applying their suggestion to the organization or recognize how hard it is simply to keep the nonprofit moving forward on a day-to-day basis. Examples of Big Ideas include notions like, “Our mission shouldn’t be limited to one town! We need to go national!” or “We’re serving elementary school children. That’s fine, but we should be serving kids from infancy through 21! …And seniors! Think of the synergy!!” Meanwhile, BTs tend to think of board and staff who offer reasoned opposition to their proposals as individuals of limited vision and aspiration – and the Big Thinkers’ barely veiled derision can break a board in half.
3. The Merger and Acquisitions Pusher. Starting from the premise, “There are simply too many nonprofits!” (true) and “These organizations are competing for the same dollars” (ditto), the M&A Pusher quickly moves to “…and they’re pretty much doing the same thing!” (not usually true) to “…and there would be much greater efficiency if we all merge!” (which, if it means paying fewer people to do the work, is correct, but if it means having greater impact, or even the same impact, is probably wrong). M&A Pushers need not attend each board meeting, because they inevitably make the same point every time, and it’s more efficient simply to place their comments into the minutes in advance.
4. The Task-Giver. This is the board member who loves suggesting tasks that the staff should undertake. “You really need to get the Governor on board with this!” the Task-Giver might assert, or “You have to invite all our donors to a reception this summer! On the water! With live music!” or “You need to research all other organizations doing similar work!” (a task that gets a grunting affirmation, of course, from the M&A Pusher). It’s telling that the Task-Giver uses “you” instead of “we” in making these comments. At the end of the meeting, the staff have a long to-do list, without a clear sense of what they need to do, or why; what they might want to do; and what they can safely ignore. Task-Givers, generally speaking, walk out of the meeting with no tasks of their own.
5. The Over-Talker. This is the board member who talks too much and who talks over other people, especially women and younger board members. Without a strong board chair who can assertively stop the Over-Talker, the meeting’s effectiveness and sense of common purpose spiral downward. Over-Talkers are also prone to biz-splaining and big thinking.
6. The Owner. This is a founding board member, or the child or even grandchild of the founder, or the largest donor, or a past long-serving board chair, or the former CEO, or some combination. The Owner takes a proprietary approach to the organization. If the organization is considering pruning off an unproductive or duplicative service, the Owner may intone something like, “The hats-for-tots program was central to my great-grandmother’s founding vision. I CAN’T IMAGINE the organization abandoning that work!” In my mind, Owners sounds a bit like Queen Victoria (or how I imagine Queen Victoria sounding), though they generally refrain from referring to themselves in the first-person plural.
7. The Financial Wheeler-Dealer. This is the wizard who rules over the investment committee, the finance committee, or both. The Financial Wheeler-Dealer knows all, assures the board that everything is well in hand, and uses jargon like “non-correlated fixed-income investments” to ensure that nobody asks a follow-up question. Because FWDs measure themselves monetarily, and because more money is better, they tend to prioritize the growth of the endowment over the welfare of the overall organization and consequently frown upon taking annual distributions from the endowment that are more than the bare minimum. The FWD also questions paying competitive (or even living) wages to staff, because “our duty is to think of the organization’s future.” FWDs are confident that they know best. That’s not always the case.
8. The Know-Nothing. This is the board member who serves the purpose of the Financial Wheeler-Dealer by not having a background in finance, not asking questions, and deferring to the delivered wisdom. “We’re so fortunate to have the Financial Wheeler-Dealer!” say the Know-Nothings… and the FWD feels the same way about them! Know-Nothings tend to avoid conflict and are disinclined to hold the CEO responsible for problems. If the organization, say, has an unusually high staff turnover rate, and the CEO ascribes it all to personality conflict or the departed staff members’ inability to embrace the culture, rather than low salaries, crummy benefits, a toxic work environment, or the CEO’s acerbic behavior, the Know-Nothing nods and looks the other way, sometimes for years on end. If the Financial Wheeler-Dealers tend to overestimate their abilities, Know-Nothings tend to underestimate theirs.
9. The Ax-Grinder. These are the board members with a pet issue, a bone between their teeth on which they never stop gnawing. Ax-Grinders makes everything about their issue. “Sure,” the Ax-Grinder may say, “It’s great that we delivered a record number of inoculations last quarter, and that our CEO just won the Nobel Peace Prize… but why haven’t we made an offer on that abandoned playground space in Poughkeepsie?!” As with the M&A Pusher, Ax-Grinders’ presence is not needed at every meeting, as we all know in advance what they’re going to say each time.
10. The Authoritarian. This is the board chair who wants to make every decision – or, more precisely, assumes the right to make every decision. Authoritarians dislike collaboration, process, or group thinking, but they understand that legally the board does need to approve certain actions. It’s not uncommon for Authoritarians to be people who have run their own businesses, so they’re used to being lords of the realm, with full power. The Authoritarian will sometimes ask the board for after-the-fact approval, saying things like, “Since our last meeting, we fired the CEO, hired a consultant to help with the executive transition, appointed an interim CEO, and engaged a search firm for the formal hiring process. I now call for a motion for the board to sign off on these actions and the related expenses.” Authoritarians do not share information easily and tend to have thin skin. They also get a huge send-off when their term as chair expires, because everyone is so relieved to see them removed from power.
11. The Micromanager. This is the most common of challenging board members. Micromanagers never think they’re micromanaging: Indeed, nobody, ever, has said, “My problem is, I’m a terrible micromanager!” The closest they come to that truth is to say, “I’m careful not to micromanage, but…” And then, yes, they micromanage. In the minds of the Micromanagers, they are not micromanaging. Instead, they care about quality, they want to be helpful, they hope to take things off the CEO’s plate, they just want to make sure that all points of view are being taken into account, and so on. In the process, Micromanagers cross the line from governance to management so often that they’ve forgotten that there was ever a line to begin with. Because, really, they’re not micromanaging. They simply want to make sure the staff is ordering its copy paper in bulk and putting the organization’s health insurance out for competitive bidding. (Otherwise, the staff never would have considered those options.)
12. The Generous, Observant, Likeable, Dedicated, Engaged, Not-for-oneself (GOLDEN) board member. None of the people I’ve described is a bad person. These are well-intentioned folks with bad habits. Many of them are unaccustomed to group decision-making.

But then there are the GOLDEN board members. I’ve met a lot of them over the years, and I’m tempted to bottle their essence and sprinkle it widely.

GOLDEN board members have great emotional intelligence, quiet confidence, and a kind manner. GOLDENs are interested and conversant in the work of the organization, but they readily defer to the expertise of the staff members. GOLDENs read the board packet in advance, ask good questions, find common ground during debates, and create context for raising questions. A GOLDEN board member intuitively knows the line between governance and management, and diplomatically reminds Micromanagers when they’re crossed it. GOLDENs bring their professional experience and wisdom into the board room and share it judiciously, not randomly. GOLDENs calm down the Big Thinker and the Biz-Splainer and offer  thoughtful responses to bring the conversation back to the real world. GOLDENs represent the organization well to the community, help cultivate donors and funders, and themselves give generously, to their fullest ability. And GOLDENs oversee the CEO in the right way. They support the CEO and recognize that the CEO is the chief executive, day-to-day leader, and expert. But they keep an eye out for warning signs of CEOs who are burning out, over their heads, undervaluing or abusing staff, alienating funders, or mishandling the finances – and then, the GOLDENs take action.

So readers: Who would you add to the cast? And what actors should play the various parts? The comments section is yours!

Copyright Alan Cantor 2024. All rights reserved.