Find the button. While honesty is usually the best policy, some managers find that subterfuge and indirection work even better. Drypers' Dave Pitassi, for instance, admits to having given some prima donnas in his employ "enough rope to hang themselves." Then they either learn from their mistakes or move out of the company.
Other managers say short-circuiting prima donna behavior involves a little amateur psychology. As Industrial Publishing's Richard Sturm says, "Everybody's got a button." The trick is identifying it.
For example, William Porter, president of McMullen Argus Publishing Inc., a $60-million publishing company based in Placentia, Calif., rides herd on the editors of 27 specialty automotive magazines. Writers and editors, he says, are a notoriously temperamental bunch. "They all think they're Ernest Hemingway." One particularly bad case, Porter says, was the editor of a magazine specializing in European cars who neglected the nuts-and-bolts kind of service stories Porter says readers want, in favor of more elegantly written pieces. "Don't just write about coming down the Alps in a beautiful BMW," Porter gripes. "You've got to tell readers how to buy them, how to fix them." That approach didn't interest the editor, who dismissed Porter's prodding and suggestions for stories, not to mention his periodic reminders that the company published other magazines with smaller circulations whose ad sales were generating 50% more revenues.
Eventually, Porter says, he decided to employ a little one-upmanship. Instead of just ordering his editor to produce a fact-laden piece about a new sports car, Porter tried an indirect method, using information he had gleaned from his ad-sales staff. "When BMW came out with a new roadster, I got some advance word on it, and I said to the editor, 'You know, we should do something about that new BMW." Then, to the amazement of his editor, Porter launched into a detailed monologue about the car's specifications and features. Porter says, "He checked it out and thought, 'Jesus, that guy knows what he's doing." Porter got the kind of results he wanted without having to butt heads with his subordinate.
The ultimate question to ask yourself about prima donna employees is, Are they worth the grief they're causing you? While often it can be hard to tell, sometimes the sheer bulk of administrative work a big ego can generate for a boss and for coworkers makes the decision easy. "Weigh the paper," Drypers' Dave Pitassi suggests, "weigh the E-mails."
Pitassi says if the headaches consistently exceed the benefits, you should not hesitate to fire a prima donna employee, no matter how talented. Pitassi remembers firing a manager because he refused to get in line behind strategic decisions even after a consensus had been reached among other managers. "The irony," Pitassi says, "was that I probably agreed more with him," and he adds that if the man ever came to him looking for start-up capital, Pitassi would back him in a minute. Nonetheless, the friction the employee created inside the company far outweighed the strength of his ideas, Pitassi says, and both the company and the employee were ultimately well rid of each other.
Other prima donnas, however, are less disruptive, and the best among them can be worth whatever it takes to accommodate them. Six years ago Matthew Maier launched Maier Marketing Synergy Inc., in Minneapolis, a $5-million, 15-employee marketing company serving food-industry clients. The talented creative director he hired came complete with his own set of quirks, the largest being that he insisted on working out of his home, coming to the office only for the occasional client meeting. "He's sort of a reclusive guy anyway, and he just wanted to stay in his basement and do his work. So he worked for two years in his house, and I started an agency with a creative director off-site," Maier says. Since then, the creative director has moved into an office at the company's headquarters, but Maier says his hours are totally unpredictable. The arrangement has sometimes proved awkward, but the quality of the creative director's work has made it worthwhile.
As for ESI's Michael Reichert, he's hopeful he'll be able to gently persuade his star salesman to learn to say "thank you" and "please" to his coworkers. Reichert says perhaps a breakfast meeting out of the office--or even a round of golf--will provide the right nonthreatening atmosphere for such a chat. Reichert, after all, admits to being sympathetic to aggressive salespeople with big egos.
"I am one--with one," he says.
THE KNOW-IT-ALL
This is the highly productive star who can't stop reminding everyone how great he is. Inconsiderate to subordinates, overbearing with colleagues, he is deeply, passionately, and hopelessly in love with himself. And while he's a big producer, he's not remotely as magnificent as the image he sees in the mirror.
THE PASSIVE AGGRESSOR
This prima donna's motto is "Strength through weakness." She's the kind of person who'll say, "Yes, yes, yes," when asked to do something, and then never produce. Intelligent and able, she's strangely unable to get anything done without a tremendous amount of hand-holding on your part and anxious dithering on hers. She may have serious personal "issues" best sorted out in psychotherapy.
THE ARTISTE
His work is creative, ambitious, and original. It's also late, expensive, and disorganized. No budget or timetable may be allowed to hinder the subtle workings of his genius, and neither may considerations like company policy or the human needs of his coworkers. You put up with his pretentions only because his ideas are so good.
THE OLD-TIMER
He's been with the company since day one, and he's worked with you through all the lean times. You've always loved him like a brother. The problem: he thinks he's paid his dues and that his long tenure exempts him from the rules. He comes in when he feels like it, leaves when he feels like it, works when he feels like it. Everybody speaks warmly of him, but it's been a long time since anyone used the word productive in doing so.
THE BULLY
You'd fire her in a second if you didn't rely on her so much. Everybody's afraid of her, and her temper tantrums and screaming fits are the stuff of company legend. She's a living rebuttal to all your noble talk about treating employees with respect. The only trouble is that her little Stalin act produces great results. When the people around her aren't quaking in fear, they're working like beavers. If you give her a pink slip, you might find yourself taking your bows in bankruptcy court.
