Great leaders engage in quiet, daily reflection: Did I bring extraordinary value to my family, my team, and my organization? And then make the commitment to bring even more value tomorrow

—John Mattone

WHEN ONE DOOR CLOSES, ANOTHER opens. Throughout his life, Russ Klein weathered closed doors with grace and heeded the opportunity to walk through open doors with humility, courage, and self-reflection.

Russ Klein grew up in the small town of Middleburg, southwest of Cleveland. At that time, Middleburg was farmland as far as the eye could see. His father, grandfather, and great-grandfather worked as metal smiths. Russ's father owned and led a third-generation metal engineering and fabricating company in downtown Cleveland.

Building a home from scratch with the help of extended family and friends, the Kleins settled into their hand-forged home about 30 miles southwest of the city. It was a childhood out of another time—where the work of a simple trade and the loyalty of friends and family were the order of the day. Today, thanks to the suburban sprawl of most Midwestern cities, Middleburg has become connected to the Cleveland metropolitan area and the farmlands are all but gone. But in the memory of the three Klein boys, it lives on.

Russ and his two older brothers were fortunate to grow up on what was known ostensibly as a gentleman's farm (also called a hobby ranch) where they had stables and horses, ducks and ponds, and orchards and forest land on which they were always engaged in what seemed like endless—and possibly pointless—work. Even though they were moving boulders from one end of the property to the other, they loved their life on the farm.

But it wasn't all easy going or typical. Russ's father died when he was just a toddler, leaving a devastated family behind. None of the next generation of Klein boys was old enough to step into the role of leading the family business. In an unexpected twist of fate that would forever impact Russ's work ethic, his mother ended up stepping up to become CEO of an industrial small business in the 1960s.

It was no easy feat for a woman in that time to juggle raising three boys alone with being a female CEO in what was clearly believed at the time to be a “man's business.” As a result, the Klein boys grew up to be very self-reliant, self-sufficient, with an all hands on deck kind of mentality to work together and do whatever it takes to be successful.

Along with this growing sense of independence, Russ organically developed a high comfort level regarding working with strong women, a skill that would later serve him well in the advertising business. Mrs. Klein taught Russ and his brothers how to use both their wishbones and their tailbones. Despite losing their father, life on the farm with their courageous mother was the perfect place to grow up. Young Russ had the added bonus of having brothers old enough to step in with mentorship and guidance.

With one brother six years older and the other 11 years older, in some ways they were surrogate fathers. Part a function of the loss of his father and part a function of his commitment to seeking out mentors, Russ had uncles and cousins and family and friends to guide him in his young life. He continued to find mentors even after he went to university.

Russ headed off to college at Ohio State University in Columbus. Joining a social fraternity, Russ threw himself into campus life. He showed an early glimpse into his leadership abilities when he became president of the Acacia fraternity his junior year. And then he did it again senior year, something that had never been done before. It was the perfect opportunity to try out his leadership skills, and he was recognized by the national fraternity body for being an outstanding leader, receiving the Order of Pythagoras award. It was in his role as president that Russ first considered the notion that leadership is about adversity: In the face of a challenge, a leader either manages change or creates change. So it was a time of building his leadership and following his dream: marketing and advertising.

Those were heady, wonderful years for Russ and—displaying his penchant for loyalty—he borrowed the very first $10,000 to give to Ohio State University after reading Woody Hayes' fabled “Paying Forward” commencement speech. He remains connected to the university to this day.

Russ learned early on the value of leading a self-examined life. A natural introvert, Russ's energy source came from within. “My source of energy tends to come from reflecting inward, but I have a need to connect with others. I try to look at even the smallest things in epic terms, because I believe that a little thing could lead to a gigantic thing,” Russ says.

With every action comes opportunity.

Like in the old movie Sliding Doors, Russ believes the power of a single decision or event can alter one's journey to a great degree, even place one in a different orbit altogether. One single event, one way versus another way can literally change the course of your life.

So when the door opened for Russ Klein to become CEO of the American Marketing Association (AMA), he walked through. By that time a career marketer and advertising executive with more than two decades of experience in marketing management, brand turnarounds, and value creation, Russ started his career on the agency side and went on to occupy senior posts at Leo Burnett and Foote, Cone, and Belding advertising agencies. He worked on accounts like McDonald's, Gatorade, and United Airlines. Later, he switched to the client side, working as the top marketing guy for companies such as Dr. Pepper, 7-Eleven, Burger King, and Arby's, generating record sales performance and profitability.

Russ is frequently invited to speak at industry and academic symposiums, including the lecture series at Harvard Business School. He was once given the nickname “Flamethrower” for his provocative advertising and managerial boldness. A graduate of the Harvard Business School Advanced Management Program, Russ was also presented with the Distinctive Alumni Award from Ohio State University Max M. Fisher College of Business. He has served on a number of boards for charitable foundations, including the Jackie Robinson Foundation and the Jesse Owens Foundation.

As CEO of AMA, Russ carries on the organization's original mission—to serve as a trusted resource for marketing education, training, information, and tools that help advance marketing practice and thought leadership and facilitate sharing of knowledge and networking by connecting like-minded individuals. AMA has grown into one of the largest marketing associations in the world. It is the trusted go-to resource for more than 1.1 million marketers and academics with some 30,000 members in 118 countries across 74 professional chapters and 345 collegiate chapters throughout North America. AMA publishes several handbooks and research monographs including the Journal of Marketing, Journal of Marketing Research, Journal of Public Policy & Marketing, and Marketing News. The Journal of Marketing and Journal of Marketing Research are the number one publications in their respective segments in terms of impact and influence on marketing best practices around the world.

I spoke to Russ about rising above adversity, the serendipity of crossing paths, and knowing how the sliding doors closing and opening at any time in our lives provide opportunities we may never have dreamed we were destined to seize.

I love that post, because you are so correct that you know the curiosity factor. You are not going to be successful without the curiosity factor. You have an interesting combination of being self-reflective but also other oriented, which seems to be the secret to your success in your current role.

After my last horse died while I was in junior high school, we sold most of our land, including our barn, and we planned a barn sale for which I was responsible for designing and constructing the signs and placing the signs everywhere in our trading area. The family made enough money to be able to go to Jamaica for a month during the summer and rent a villa! The full circle of having something that the people might want, making them aware of it in a timely fashion, letting them know where it could be found, and of course pricing it right led to my discovery that, if successful on a larger scale, I could have a better quality of life! That homespun lesson was no doubt my original affirmation that I wanted to be in the field of marketing.

So, when you make a decision like that, you've bought in to a potentially long journey. I volunteered at the American Red Cross where I wrote press releases, and it so happened that a member of the Red Cross board was an executive for Carr Liggett, later changed to Liggett Stashower, an ad agency, a fairly large agency in Cleveland terms. This board member learned of my advertising or bust mission, and he decided to give me a shot. I was working on their regional McDonald's business, so I was in my dream job in my dream city because that's where the love of my life was.

Unfortunately, we broke up, and again through pure serendipity, I received a surreal phone call. To this day, I don't know how it came about, Gene McKeogh was the chief operating officer at Leo Burnett Company. He called up me at my office at the Cleveland ad agency about a year and a half into my stint. Gene said, “Russ, we have an opening on the United Airlines account, and we also think that we're in line to win the McDonald's business nationally, and we've love to have you. If you come here, I'll personally watch out for your career. Call me back tomorrow with a favorable response.” Then he hung up. I don't how to put this in perspective but here I am, a 22-year-old kid, and this number two guy at the Leo Burnett Company called me to tell me he wanted me. I went. Unfortunately, he died on an operating table about nine months after I joined Burnett. I still look to the heavens now and then and thank him for his mysterious intervention in my young life.

The job at Burnett and move to Chicago was a life-changing event for me, shaping so much of who I am today. Burnett was in the first Top 50 Companies to Work For study and book. Working there, you felt as if Leo Burnett was in a corner office somewhere even though he died 10 years earlier. His principles were still alive and it was very much a purpose-driven agency devoted to being the best ad agency—bar none. We were a team of people who literally felt like we were unstoppable—an amazing culture.

So, the international element of the sale went through Pepsi. The domestic piece ended up going to a guy who is now famous for owning the Texas Rangers and Dallas Stars, Tom Hicks. Tom Hicks and Bobby Haas put together the Dr. Pepper Company, which they took private and 7 Up instantly became the new third major soft drink company. My opportunity came about when I was presenting on behalf of Leo Burnett to due diligence teams from various suitors seeking to acquire the U.S. operations of the 7 Up Company. Obviously, my objective as the Leo Burnett account supervisor was to keep the 7 Up account at Leo Burnett when the new owners came on board. Little did I know that after the deal was reached, I would receive another mysterious phone call from John Albers. John was the dynamic and charismatic CEO and chairman of Dr. Pepper, originally from Minnesota. For some reason, he took a liking to me and asked me to be his head of marketing. He also said, “I'm going to make you a millionaire.” Even then, I was clueless for the first five minutes he was recruiting me. When I finally caught on I said, “John, I'm so flattered, but I love Leo Burnett, and it's great you feel that way about me, but I can be more useful to you by staying here at Burnett.”

Again, I don't know how to explain the appearance of people in my life out of nowhere, whether Gene McKeogh or John Albers. I can only point to Lady Luck and Lady Providence.

So I decided to take the call that came from a small ad agency in Chicago. I loved living in Chicago while employed at Leo Burnett. With this small agency, it was the Gatorade business they had that lured me in. So I joined Bayer, Bess, Vanderwarker as one of their partners. I was the managing director of the Boston Chicken account; later we helped them rename it to Boston Market. I later would end up heading their Gatorade account.

I got married to my wife in 1991. And then about two years into that stint, our agency becomes attractive to True North Advertising, which was the holding company for Foote, Cone & Belding. And so the next thing I know, we got bought out and I am now the managing director of Foote, Cone & Belding in Chicago. I'm right back in a large agency setting! I was particularly connected to the Gatorade account and they were the people with whom I enjoyed working most. My daughter, Chandler, was born in 1994 and a few years after she was born, we discovered a brain cyst doctors felt might have been interfering with her development. It was a stressful time in our family and Chandler had to have two brain surgeries. She was then, and still today, a special needs child—now young adult.

At that point I had two children—Cameron and Chandler, born about 18 months apart. Luckily, I had a supportive management team and board from FCB. They agreed to fund my continued education at Harvard Business School in their Advanced Management Program. When I came back, after this amazing time at HBS and also an important time for self-examination and reflection, I decided to take some time off. This allowed me to be at home with my family and closer to Chandler.

That's what I was really craving. Ultimately, I was offered the post as CMO for 7-Eleven North America. So we moved down to Dallas. And about a year later, the Burger King board came calling. Having seen the wealth creation power that a leveraged buyout turnaround with an IPO exit strategy, combined with the chance to really take a big brand with almost a half a billion dollar marketing budget, it was impossible to resist. I believed that the new owners—TPG, Bain, and Goldman Sachs—would grant me the palette to do things my way at Burger King. Burger King was a brand that had been suffering greatly for many, many years. So when our team got there, we were very fortunate to get it turned around 10 months from the day we got there. We then went on a run of six straight years of record-setting sales and profitability not seen before or since. That was another, really dynamic time for me.

I knew it wasn't just a privilege, it was a calling.

And in the role of CMO, I was the number two guy to the CEO, the guy stepping up to solve problems or write a speech behind closed doors. I enjoyed it. I wasn't counting myself out to be a CEO, but I did wonder if my love for marketing might make life difficult for a CMO working for me.

I thought to myself, “Here's this venerable institution that's been around for more than 75 years, millions of marketers trusted this association and this brand to be a source knowledge and best practices in their craft.” It was a little dusty, graying around the edges, in need of modernization.

I thought, “So here's an opportunity as a CEO to not only come in and do important branding work, but it's a chance now to build an esteemed community essential to marketers.” I also had one more chip on my shoulder, and it was the concept of culture. The fact of the matter is that even as a powerful CMO, there's only one person who can really set the stage and tone for a values-driven culture. That's the CEO.

That was job number one.

So while we are a big organization, we need to also make sure that we're all pulling in the same direction. And I used this story to try to bring to stark relief how difficult it is to be a leader of change. One story I tell is the Genovese syndrome, and I'm sure you've heard of it. Maybe by other terms, it's called the “bystander effect.”

I held a town hall meeting in my first 30 days at AMA, and I asked my leadership team to stand up in front of the balance of the staff and share with them, what it was, they were dissatisfied with about the current AMA.

This is a basic wisdom that young leaders must incorporate if they want to survive the ever-changing climate. You have a lot of young talent at the AMA. What message would you want to deliver to those upcoming leaders, and all leaders?

I would also encourage young people to embrace the belief that you're not going to inspire without taking stands. That does not mean being argumentative or combative but that your values and principles are not divisible, to be cut up and split in half or filed off around the edges. You can compromise on lots of other aspects in the business world, but values and principles are not divisible. Leadership is also the opportunity and the responsibility to make sure that those values and principles survive into the next generation.

I believe every leader of a turnaround or a “turn-up” tends to organize their plans in terms of some version of so-called quick wins and long-range plans. I have always loved, and tried to emulate, the fighter pilot mentality of OODA—observe, orient, decide, act. There are lots of opportunities that can be seized simply through decisiveness. I am not talking about reckless abandon, shooting up the town just to prove you're the new sheriff in town. “Command of the glance” however, is a critical quality for a leader especially in a rapidly changing environment. I don't do well with managers who need to build a cathedral of analysis on every project. Voltaire had it right when he said, “Perfect is the enemy of good.” If you don't think good enough can be a strategy you haven't been paying attention to China. Don't get me wrong, I am actually a perfectionist, but there is a sweet spot of idealism and a certain pragmatism every leader must find if they are to make progress in a timely fashion.

So at the Next AMA, we had our quick-win plans that we named “Rolling Thunder.” We wanted to launch a series of tactical initiatives that would act as proof points to our customers and stakeholders that we were indeed listening to them and that we intended to act accordingly. The most important element among these tactics was being there. By this I mean I sent my leadership team on the road. My board was kind enough to hit the road, too. I traveled to over 30 cities in my first six months as CEO. The day I started, I asked my assistant to say yes to everything to which I was invited for the first year. There's a reason why politicians still stump and rock-and-roll bands still crank out concerts despite the brutal travel schedules. Nothing can replace being there. Now I concede that technology has made virtual video-conferencing a great alternative to face-to-face meetings. But we all know, there is something magical about encountering another human being…the handshake…the affirming head nod…the dynamic of live on-the-spot empathy is something that instantly creates something bigger than any one individual. When you take the time and trouble to be there for your constituents, they will always notice it. Whether they say so or not, by going out to them, you have earned a place in their hearts and heads that would otherwise have dissipated the moment your Skype session ended.

While implementing our Rolling Thunder plan over a period of several months, reinforced by frequent if not almost constant travel to oblige every invitation, we also knew that there was a significant skills and competency gap between the AMA and the Next AMA in our ability to pursue our four transformational strategies. Every leader has the challenge of not only identifying their strategic direction, be it transformational in nature or not, but they also have the more stressful challenge of identifying their enabling strategies. Enabling strategies are the fuel—finance, talent, technology, knowledge, and alliances. Invariably, every leader needs to find the optimal blend of enabling strategies to power their change efforts [read: transformational strategies]. In our particular case, we had plenty of deficits to manage, but the most critical was talent. As I said earlier, we had a remarkably earnest group of individuals on the AMA staff, but not all were geared for the Next AMA, either because of their inability to be the type of employee we felt was supportive of our cultural aspirations, or because—possibly through no fault of their own—they did not have the skills or competency to do the work of the Next AMA. That is, to perform at a high level, advancing our four transformational strategies in an agile, collaborative, team-first environment. As a result we initiated a “future back” project to redesign the organizational structure of the Next AMA.

Organizational fitness became the major challenge for me. I had to do everything I could, playing the hand I'd been dealt, with the current staff that I knew was capable of doing better work, while an outside consultant was working on the new design of the enterprise. Having identified the opportunity—an opportunity that would later be reaffirmed by the external organizational consultant—to break down silos and create a sense of connectedness between and across both internal and external groups, I admit I stole a page from Allan Mulally's book and announced with corresponding drama, a “merger.” I then quickly released the tension from something representing such dramatic change as a merger to confess that “we are going to merge with ourselves!”

We created a virtual suggestion box. I hosted monthly town halls that included “day in the life” sessions wherein an individual shares a day in their work life at the AMA to begin to build empathy for what others do. We created two awards: one for service leadership and one for resourcefulness, both of which stem from inspiring true stories from history. We always reviewed the performance of the enterprise and reviewed our team goals. We celebrated successes no matter how small. I began to write to the organization occasionally, outside of my AMA blog, sharing an article of interest with my take on it and solicited feedback. As a staunch believer in what some call “performative language,” I believe that language is literally a predictor of outcomes. That is, the language we use leads to outcomes commensurate with the tone and nature of the words themselves. As one example, I sign every piece of correspondence, “Positively,” and I've been doing it for more than 30 years. I am quite certain that cumulatively that sign-off has played a part in creating the many positive outcomes with which I've been associated accordingly! What we say plants ideas in particular ways and I believe in taking great care, through the use of nurturing words, of the ideas I plant. I took an AMA personality test and shared the results with the entire staff and requested them to do the same—only about a quarter of the organization reciprocated; hint, there's more trust to be built. Externally, we spoke of “One AMA Brand. One AMA Community.” We tried to paint a picture of the Next AMA in an epic story in which everyone could see themselves as an epic part of it.

I want every person in the AMA, whether they're in my office or some small, rural outpost, to feel that when that sliding door opens, they are ready to step into the starring role.