In the months after 9/11, Americans were raw with grief over the thousands of lives lost. Angered burned over the injustice of innocent lives taken in an instant.
Airline executives feared that victims’ families would sue them for negligence. Someone had to be to blame for letting this happen. If the families won, it could bankrupt the airlines and strike a catastrophic blow to the economy by severely constraining transportation capacity. To prevent economic devastation, the airlines, together with the attorney general’s office, proposed reaching an out-of-court settlement, funded by US taxpayers.
Attorney Kenneth Feinberg and his firm had extensive experience calculating damages and negotiating agreements in high profile cases like asbestos poisoning. Feinberg’s team poured over actuarial tables and salary data for the deceased in order to come up with a compensation formula based on legal precedents, estimated future earnings, and survivor benefits.
The movie Worth tells the story of the law firm that took on the challenge of determining how to distribute the funds and getting the buy-in of the affected families. Congress gave them two years to accomplish the mission and set the target at 80% of families accepting the deal. If the firm failed, the families would be bogged down in legal disputes for years and the economy would be crippled by damages.
But getting the 9/11 families on board proved elusive. As his partner reminded him that similar cases they had taken on transpired years after the event and the families had already processed their grief. In this case, the shock of 9/11 was still too raw.
Feinberg’s well thought out plan was met with cynicism and widespread resistance. While several families at the lower end of the income spectrum were grateful for the proposed amount, those at the upper end hired attorneys of their own to fight for more. For the majority in the middle, the idea of having their loved one assigned a value was an affront to their dignity and minimized their loss.
Feinberg and his team were finally able to break through by engaging the families in their grief, one-by-one. Where the cases had merit, he adjusted the amounts in ways that may have been purely symbolic, but they showed the families that this was personal, not business. They could not bring the families’ loved ones back, but they could show empathy and relate to their humanity.
The story shows how our idealism and rational solutions can backfire and be counterproductive to achieving positive outcomes for those we want to serve. Feinberg wanted to give back to his country and help the families, but by trying to stay objective and task-oriented, he threatened the mission itself. He was only able to bring a resolution by leaning into discomfort and seeing the world from the families’ perspective. Feinberg course-corrected and tapped into empathy to achieve the mission.
By contrast, Joab, King David’s nephew and general, missed his opportunity for empathy with David. Joab’s determination to achieve his objective led him to compromise the mission David sent him on and caused an irreparable breakdown in their relationship.
The situation was that Absalom, King David’s son, had mounted a rage-filled insurrection that threw the nation into chaos and overtook the kingdom (2 Samuel 15). So David sent Joab to lead the troops into battle and reclaim the kingdom. But King David, knowing that Joab was a man of war who executed every mission with military precision, implored him to be gentle with Absalom for his sake. For David, the battle against his son was gut-wrenching.
However, Joab had a personal vendetta against Absalom, who had burned his fields to get his attention and coerce him to intercede with David (2 Samuel 14:28-33). As the troops went out to battle, Absalom’s hair got caught on an oak tree and he was immobilized and vulnerable. Joab got word of his location and saw an opportunity to exact revenge and win a decisive victory, so he took it (2 Samuel 18).
Despite their triumph, the troops returned to their homes in shame, as though they had suffered a bitter defeat. David was overcome with grief for his son. He could not lead a praise-filled celebration, like he once had when he led men to victory against the nation’s enemies (Psalm 21).
Joab rebuked David for humiliating the men who had saved his life and the lives of his other sons, daughters, wives and concubines. He said, “You love those who hate you and hate those who love you. You have made it clear today that the commanders and their men mean nothing to you. I see that you would be pleased if Absalom were alive today and all of us were dead.” (2 Samuel 19:5-6) Joab urged David to encourage the men, so he sat at the gateway where the men could come to him and sense his appreciation for their sacrifice, in spite of his grief. The victory was bittersweet.
Joab fell into the same trap as Feinberg did early in the movie: he focused on the task, to the neglect of the people. For David, the central issue was the incremental breakdown of his family compounded by excruciating loss. For the 9/11 families, the issue was having their loved ones’ senseless deaths reduced to statistics and a financial transaction.
What can we take away?
Our mission is always about people and people are messy. While we need to be able to execute our tasks with excellence, we can’t lose our humanity in the process. Often we will find that tapping into our emotions and attuning to the people around us will help us achieve the victory that would otherwise elude us.
Are there people in your home or at your work who need to know you empathize with them? Do you need to set a task aside so you can uncover what the real issue is that is troubling people and preventing your team from reaching their goals?
Have you inadvertently alienated the very people you need, because they perceive you as out of touch? If so, what are the steps you can take today to lean into the discomfort and make space for vulnerability?
The breakthrough just may surprise you.