Tag Archive for: Organisational Culture

The Professional I Could No Longer Trust

Not every lesson arrives through success and admiration.
Some arrive through disappointment, hurt, and betrayal.

One of the most capable professionals I encountered during my career taught me exactly that.
Her expertise was genuine. She opened the door to my early career in advisory work. I learned from her. Significantly. We collaborated, exchanged ideas, developed opportunities, and worked together over many years.

At least that was how I understood the relationship.

Over time, circumstances changed. A client relationship moved elsewhere.
People I had worked with were pursued under false pretenses to join her for a very promising opportunity.
Looking back, I no longer view the events as a misunderstanding or a difference in perception.
The consequences were significant, both professionally and personally.
What had taken years to build—relationships, concepts, and frameworks—disappeared remarkably quickly.

The commercial, contractual, and legal consequences were not the most important part of the story.
The real lesson was different. The experience forced me to confront a possibility I had previously preferred not to consider.
Professional competence and personal trustworthiness are not the same thing.

For a long time I struggled with that conclusion.
Not because I did not understand what had happened.
Rather because I found it difficult to reconcile the contradiction.
How could somebody demonstrate such professionalism in one area and such poor judgement in another?

Years passed.

I struggled. I adapted. I rebuilt.
I developed new capabilities and new business lines.
I strengthened structures that reduced dependency on individuals and created greater resilience.
In many ways, this experience reinforced a theme that would later become central to my professional thinking: governance.

For me, governance is not bureaucracy.
Governance is the operating system of decision-making.
It creates clarity around decision rights, accountability, expectations, information flows, and risk.
Proper governance does not eliminate human error or poor judgement.
It does, however, reduce ambiguity and make organisations less vulnerable when trust is tested.

One principle gradually emerged from this experience.
Revenue should not be chased directly.
Trust should be built. Revenue is often the consequence.

Over time, my frustration diminished.
My conclusion remained.
The professional relationship ended because trust had been broken.
Some things can be repaired. Others cannot.

Yet something interesting happened.
My respect for her professional capability survived.
I continued to recognise her expertise.
I continued to acknowledge the contribution she made to my own development.
The relationship ended. The lessons remained.

That distinction took years to understand.
It would be easy to reduce the story to heroes and villains.
Reality is rarely that simple. Neither are people, nor me.

Looking back, I learned two lessons:

  • One about commercial thinking
  • One about character

Both were valuable. Only one survived the relationship.

Reflection

This article is about discernment: the ability to recognise that competence and trustworthiness are not the same thing.
Competence creates confidence. Trust creates relationships. The difference matters.

This is the fifteenth of a series of articles – “What hospitality taught me about myself” – in which I share lessons learned throughout my professional and personal journey, and how those experiences have shaped my thinking and led me to develop my own principles.

When I was younger, I believed competence naturally created trust. Experience taught me otherwise. Competence creates confidence.

Trust creates relationships. The two often appear together. Occasionally they do not.
The difference matters.

Some of the most successful people I have encountered were not necessarily the most trustworthy. Some of the most trustworthy were not necessarily the most successful.
The rare individuals possess both. Those are the people worth keeping close.

About the Author

Raoul Gransier is a Senior International Adviser and owner-focused hotelier with more than 25 years of operational and advisory experience in hospitality, tourism, governance, and performance improvement.

Website

https://gransier.com

Trust is the Final KPI

For many years, I believed that successful projects could be recognised quite easily.

Revenue increased. Profit improved. Market share grew. Guest satisfaction rose. Budgets were achieved. Property value improved. Debt service secured. Investment plan on schedule.

The numbers told the story. At least that is what I thought.

Then I started noticing something.

When I looked back on the projects that remained most meaningful in my memory, I rarely remembered the final spreadsheet.
I remembered the people.

A conversation years later. An unexpected phone call. A recommendation. A friendship.
A door that remained open long after the assignment itself had ended.
Or occasionally, a door that closed forever.

That observation forced me to reconsider what success actually meant.

One organisation in particular taught me this lesson.
The engagement lasted several years. The discussions were often challenging. The expectations were not always aligned.
At times I pushed harder than the organisation wished to move.
At other times the organisation moved more slowly than I wished to accept.

There were disagreements.
There were difficult conversations.
There were moments when it would have been easier for both sides simply to stop talking.

Yet something survived.
Trust.

Years after the project ended, the relationships remained. The conversations remained. The respect remained.
Even some of the disagreements remained.
What disappeared was the need to be right.
What remained was confidence in each other’s intentions.
That fascinated me.

The project itself had eventually stopped.
The relationship had not.

And that forced me to ask a question. What exactly had been created?
Certainly not a report. Certainly not a spreadsheet. Certainly not a KPI.
The answer, I believe, was trust.
Not blind trust. Not emotional trust. Professional trust.

The confidence that somebody will tell you the truth even when it is uncomfortable.
Also when it’s myself on the receiving end.
The confidence that disagreement does not imply disloyalty.
The confidence that criticism serves improvement rather than politics.
The confidence that intentions remain aligned even when opinions differ.

Looking back, I increasingly believe trust is one of the most misunderstood assets in business.
Everyone talks about it.
Few measure it.
Yet organisations built upon trust can survive extraordinary pressure.
Organisations without trust often struggle even under favourable conditions.

The same applies to partnerships. Teams. Families. Perhaps even countries.
Trust rarely appears on a balance sheet.
Yet its absence eventually appears everywhere else.

Reflection

This article is about trust.

Not the trust that exists when everything goes well, but the trust that survives disagreement.
The more mature I become, the more suspicious I become of success that destroys trust.
The immediate outcome may appear attractive, but the long-term cost is often invisible until it arrives.

Agreement proves little. Trust reveals itself when people remain connected despite conflict.

For many years I searched for better metrics. Today I sometimes wonder whether trust was the metric all along.

About the Author

Raoul Gransier is a Senior International Adviser and owner-focused hotelier with more than 25 years of operational and advisory experience in hospitality, tourism, governance, and performance improvement.

Website

https://gransier.com

The COO Who Managed Pace

If the CEO represented ambition, the COO represented management.
That combination proved both powerful and instructive.

The COO was exceptionally intelligent. Capable. Curious.
And perhaps most importantly, humble enough to learn.
Over the years, he absorbed an extraordinary amount of knowledge.
Operations. Finance. Performance management. Governance. Strategy. Commercial thinking. Organisational design.
He learned continuously. Not because anybody forced him to. Because he wanted to understand.

As the organisation matured, he became increasingly capable of connecting the dots.
He understood why certain decisions mattered. He understood why assumptions mattered. He understood why expectations mattered.
He could see the chain.

Yet he responded differently from me.
That difference would teach me an important lesson.
When the organisation began asking larger questions, my instinct was to follow the logic and accelerate.
The answers were needed. The decisions mattered. The opportunity existed. Why wait?

The COO saw the same reality. Yet he reached a different conclusion.
The organisation could only move as fast as it could absorb change.
The business could only move as fast as its culture could absorb change.
His instinct was not to accelerate. His instinct was to regulate. To create time. To allow understanding to develop. To allow acceptance to develop.
To allow people to move together. He was not opposed to change. He was protecting its sustainability.
Organisations do not change when a conclusion is reached. They change when enough people are ready to accept it.

As discussions progressed, both the CEO and the COO chose a more measured pace.
Despite the slower pace, the organisation continued learning.
The culture continued evolving. The curiosity survived. The momentum remained.
Perhaps the pace was not a weakness. Perhaps it was a bridge.

Looking back, I have come to appreciate that a mandate is not implemented in a vacuum.
It must adapt to the reality of the organisation it serves.

Reflection

This article is about how patience taught me that sustainable change happens at a pace people can absorb.

This is the thirteenth of a series of articles – “What hospitality taught me about myself” – in which I share lessons learned throughout my professional and personal journey, and how those experiences have shaped my thinking and led me to develop my own principles.

Throughout my career, I have often been drawn toward the logic of an argument.
Follow the chain. Understand the consequences. Reach the conclusion. The logic remains important.

But organisations are not spreadsheets. People require time. Cultures require time. Trust requires time.

The more mature I become, the more I appreciate that sustainable change is rarely determined by the quality of the conclusion alone. It is also determined by the organisation’s ability to absorb it.

The COO taught me that progress is not measured solely by speed. Sometimes progress is measured by what survives the journey.

About the Author

Raoul Gransier is a Senior International Adviser and owner-focused hotelier with more than 25 years of operational and advisory experience in hospitality, tourism, governance, and performance improvement.

Website

https://gransier.com

The HR Director Who Learned to Love Numbers

If somebody had told me at the beginning of the project that the strongest advocate for performance management would eventually emerge from Human Resources, I would have been sceptical. Very sceptical.

At the time, the HR Director represented something important within the organisation: culture, care, wellbeing, development, and respect.
The company genuinely cared about its people. And she was one of the principal custodians of that culture.

Performance management worried her.
Not because she opposed improvement. Because she feared what numbers might do.
Like many people, she saw a potential conflict. People on one side. Performance on the other. Compassion versus accountability. Culture versus profitability.
The concern was understandable. Many organisations manage to create exactly that conflict.

Yet something unexpected happened.
She became curious. She asked questions. She challenged assumptions.
And, at times, she gave me a hard time.
She wanted to understand. Not the spreadsheets. The thinking behind them.
Slowly, patiently, and somewhat reluctantly at first, she began exploring concepts she had previously avoided.
Performance. Productivity. Profitability. Measurement. Expectations.

The more she learned, the more her perspective changed.
Not because she cared less about people. Quite the opposite.
She gradually realised that satisfied employees do not emerge from good intentions alone.
They emerge from functioning organisations.
Sales must perform. Operations must perform. Finance must perform. Engineering must perform. Managers must perform. Expectations must be clear.
Responsibilities must be understood. Resources must be available.
Only then can an organisation create the conditions that allow people to thrive.
That realisation changed her perspective.

She eventually understood something important.
People are not separate from capital.
They are one of the most significant investments any hotel makes.
Most organisations treat people and capital as different conversations.
One belongs to Human Resources. The other belongs to Finance.
Yet sustainable organisations depend on both working together.

She came to recognise that salaries, training, development, engagement, and leadership are not merely costs.
They are investments expected to generate outcomes, just as any other investment within the business.
Equally, she understood that capital without capable and motivated people rarely delivers its intended return.
People and performance are not competing priorities.
Nor are people and capital. In healthy organisations, people, performance, capital and purpose are interconnected.

Strong performance creates opportunity, stability, investment, development, and career growth.
Strong people create the performance that makes those things possible.
The relationship is not adversarial. It is symbiotic.

Over time, she became one of the strongest advocates for performance management within the organisation.
Not despite her commitment to people. Because of it.
She recognised that performance management, applied within a healthy and humane culture, protects both people and capital.
Most importantly, she reached that conclusion herself.

Years later she joined the Board.
The promotion was deserved.
Not because she had mastered numbers.
Because she had learned to integrate two worlds that many people mistakenly separate: people and capital. Humanity and performance.
She understood that neither can succeed sustainably without the other.

Reflection

This article is about how curiosity taught me that people and performance succeed together or fail together.

This is the eleventh of a series of articles – “What hospitality taught me about myself” – in which I share lessons learned throughout my professional and personal journey, and how those experiences have shaped my thinking and led me to develop my own principles.

One of the most persistent misconceptions in business is that people and performance are in competition with each other.
My experience suggests the opposite. Poorly managed organisations damage both.
Well-managed organisations support both. The challenge is not choosing between people and performance.
The challenge is understanding that sustainable performance creates the conditions in which people can succeed.

The HR Director taught me that lesson. And she taught it far more convincingly than any consultant ever could.

Looking back, one outcome gives me particular satisfaction.
The organisation no longer required external advocates for performance management.
One of its strongest advocates had emerged from within: The HR Director herself.

About the Author

Raoul Gransier is a Senior International Adviser and owner-focused hotelier with more than 25 years of operational and advisory experience in hospitality, tourism, governance, and performance improvement.

Website

https://gransier.com

The Most Admirable Hotel General Manager I Know

Over the years, I have worked with many Hotel General Managers.
Some were commercially brilliant. Some were operationally exceptional. Some were charismatic. Some were disciplined. Some were feared. Some were respected.

One in particular remains in my memory.
Not because he was the most analytical, or achieved the best KPIs.
And certainly not because he was the most demanding.
In many ways, he is my opposite. His teams genuinely love him.
Not merely respect him. They love him.
There is a difference.

He is approachable, patient, and genuinely interested in people.
He remembers names, families, birthdays, concerns, and successes.
People naturally want to do well for him.
I admire that. Because – even if our worldview is the same – I could not do it the way he does.
My instinct has always been different. I gravitate toward structure, numbers, expectations, analysis, and systems.
When faced with a problem, I look for causes.
He looks for people first.

Yet over time, something interesting happened.
He became increasingly curious about the commercial and operational logic behind the business.
Not because he wanted to become more analytical, but because he wanted to become more effective.
He started asking different questions.
Questions about profitability. Questions about assumptions. Questions about consequences. Questions about why things worked the way they did.
And then he did something important. He did not abandon who he was. He incorporated what he learned into who he already was.

The result was remarkable.
The warmth remained. The humanity remained. The connection with his teams remained.
But now there was additional clarity, additional discipline, and additional understanding.

Eventually he was promoted.
The promotion surprised nobody. Least of all me.
What impressed me was not the promotion itself.
It was his evolution. He did not become somebody else. He became more complete.
Perhaps more.
He taught me that leadership is not merely about achieving better numbers.
It is about becoming the best version of yourself. The numbers are often a consequence rather than the objective.

His path happened to be different from mine. And that was precisely why it was valuable.

Reflection

This article is about how authenticity taught me that leadership begins with understanding who you are.

This is the tenth of a series of articles – “What hospitality taught me about myself” – in which I share lessons learned throughout my professional and personal journey, and how those experiences have shaped my thinking and led me to develop my own principles.

Throughout my career, I have encountered many leaders who tried to imitate others.
The successful ones rarely did. The strongest leaders usually possess a deep understanding of who they are.
They then build upon that foundation, not by replacing their strengths, but by complementing them.

The most memorable Hotel General Manager I know taught me a lesson I continue to carry today.
People do not follow perfection. They follow authenticity. And authenticity becomes more powerful when combined with curiosity and a willingness to keep learning.

I hope it has provided some food for thought, encouraged curiosity, and inspired you to keep learning.

Curiosity, humility, and continuous learning remain among the most valuable tools we possess.

About the Author

Raoul Gransier is a Senior International Adviser and owner-focused hotelier with more than 25 years of operational and advisory experience in hospitality, tourism, governance, and performance improvement.

Website

https://gransier.com

The Stewarding Manager

As a trainee in food and beverage, one of my responsibilities was serving coffee and tea during the hotel F&B Management meetings.

It was a good place to observe.

  • General Manager
  • Director of Sales and Marketing
  • Chief Accountant
  • F&B Manager
  • Executive Chef
  • And many others…

People discussing important matters I barely understood.

One thing puzzled me. Why was the Chief Steward participating in the meeting?
I understood the Executive Chef. I understood the F&B Manager. But the dishwasher?

At least, that was how my young and inexperienced mind looked at it. Only later did I understand.

  • Health and safety start and end with stewarding
  • Cleanliness starts and ends with stewarding
  • A perfectly prepared dish served on a contaminated plate remains a failure and a risk to guest safety
  • The most talented chef cannot succeed without clean equipment
  • The most beautiful restaurant cannot function without clean glasses, cutlery, and plates

Stewarding is the backbone of food and beverage.
In much the same way that housekeeping is the backbone of rooms, engineering is the backbone of infrastructure, and night audit is the backbone of financial control.

The lesson was simple: The most important functions are often the least glamorous and the least visible.
As young professionals, we are often attracted to titles, uniforms, status, and visibility. Life eventually teaches a different lesson.
Organisations do not succeed because of the people who receive the most attention.
They succeed because of the people who quietly do their job every day, often without recognition.

That observation shaped how I view organisations today.
Respect is not determined by title. It is determined by contribution.

This lesson in humility has stayed with me throughout my life and career.

Thank you for reading my article.

This article is about learning respect.

This is the fourth of a series of articles – “What hospitality taught me about myself” – in which I share lessons learned throughout my professional and personal journey, and how those experiences have shaped my thinking and led me to develop my own principles.

I hope it has provided some food for thought, encouraged curiosity, and inspired you to keep learning.

Curiosity, humility, and continuous learning remain among the most valuable tools we possess.

About the Author

Raoul Gransier is a Senior International Adviser and owner-focused hotelier with more than 25 years of operational and advisory experience in hospitality, tourism, governance, and performance improvement.

Website

https://gransier.com