World Class, World Famous, Joe The Plumber, and Joe The Welder

I started a discussion yesterday about the importance of finding that niche where you are "Insanely Great".  By "Insanely Great" I mean "World Class" but not necessarily '"World Famous".  I have a meaning in mind much more like Dr. Martin Luther King who said, "Everyone can be great because everyone can serve".  We live in a culture that often values "World Famous" over "World Class".  But....after having said that, Proverbs 22:29 in the Bible tells us "people who are very good at their work will be honored by kings".

I’m writing this after the presidential election with Barack Obama facing off against John McCain. Toward the end of that campaign there was a big deal made about “Joe The Plumber”. In Mihály Csíkszentmihályi’s book “Flow” he talks about “Joe The Welder”. I actually prefer this story.


Joe is in his early sixties, a welder in a South Chicago plant where railroad cars are assembled. About two hundred people worked with Joe in three huge, dark, hanger like structures where steel plates weighing several tons move around suspended from overhead tracks, and are welded amid showers of sparks to the wheel bases of freight cars. In the summer it is an oven, in the winter the icy winds of the prarie howl through. The clanging of metal is always so intense that one must shout into a person’s ear to make oneself understood.

Joe came to the United States when he was five years old, and he left school after fourth grade. He had been working at this plant for over thirty years, but never wanted to become a foreman. He declined several promotions, claiming that he liked being a simple welder, and felt uncomfortable being anyone’s boss. Although he stood on the lowest rung of the hierarchy in the plant, everyone knew Joe, and everyone agreed that he was the most important person in the entire factory. The manager stated that if he had five more people just like Joe, his plant would be the most efficient in the business. His fellow workers said that without Joe they might as well shut down the shop right now.

The reason for his fame was simple: Joe had apparently mastered every phase of the plant’s operation, and he was now able to take anyone’s place if the necessity arose. Moreover, he could fix any broken down piece of machinery, ranging from huge mechanical cranes to tiny electronic monitors. But what astounded people most was that Joe not only could perform these tasks, but actually enjoyed it when he was called upon to do them. When asked how he had learned to deal with complex engines and instruments without having had any formal training, Joe gave a very disarming answer. Since childhood he had been fascinated with machinery of every kind. He was especially drawn to anything that wasn’t working properly: “Like when my mother’s toaster went on the fritz, I asked myself: ‘If I were that toaster and I didn’t work, what would be wrong with me?’” Then he disassembled the toaster, found the defect, and fixed it. Ever since, he has used this method of empathic identification to learn about and restore increasingly complex mechanical systems. And the fascination of discovery has never left him; now close to retirement, Joe still enjoys work every day.

Joe has never been a workaholic, completely dependent on the challenges of the factory to feel good about himself. What he did at home was perhaps even more remarkable than his transformation of a mindless, routine job into a complex, flow-producing activity. Joe and his wife live in a modest bungalow on the outskirts of the city. Over the years they bought up the two vacant lots on either side of their house. On these lots Joe built an intricate rock garden, with terraces, paths, and several hundred flowers and shrubs. While he was installing underground sprinklers, Joe had an idea: What if he had them make rainbows? He looked for sprinkler heads that would produce a fine enough mist for this purpose, but none satisfied him; so he designed one himself, and built it on his basement lathe. Now after work he could sit on the back porch, and by touching one switch he could activate a dozen sprays that turned into as many small rainbows.

But there was one small problem with Joe’s little Garden of Eden. Since he worked most days, by the time he got home the sun was usually too far down the horizon to help paint the water with strong colors. So Joe went back to the drawing board, and came back with an admirable solution. He found floodlights that contained enough of the sun’s spectrum to form rainbows, and installed them inconspicuously around the sprinklers. Now he was really ready. Even in the middle of the night, just by touching two switches, he could surround his house with fans of water, light, and color.
Joe is a rare example of what it means to have an autotelic personality, or the ability to create flow experiences even in the most barren environment – an almost inhumane workplace, a weed-infested urban neighborhood. In the entire railroad plant, Joe appeared to be the only man who had the vision to perceive challenging opportunities for action. The rest of the welders we interviewed regarded their jobs as burdens to be escaped as promptly as possible, and each evening as soon as worked stopped they fanned out for the saloons that were strategically placed on every third corner of the grid of streets surrounding the factory, there to forget the dullness of the day with beer and camaraderie. Then home for more beer in front of the TV, a brief skirmish with the wife, and the day – in all respects similar to each previous one – was over.

Lessons:

Joe discovered during his childhood that he like to fix things.

Joe got a job that he thoroughly enjoyed fixing things.

Joe developed his skill until he became the indispensable “go to guy” at his plant.

Joe continued to grow but declined promotions that would have taken him out of his area of success and enjoyment.

Joe refused to become a workaholic. He developed his time at home and with family in the same wise way he did at work.

Joe is my hero. I hope he becomes yours. The purpose of becoming “insanely great” doesn’t have anything to do with getting a glamorous high powered, high paying job. The purpose is to help throw you into the process of figuring out what your creator put your here to do. I’m still in process. I haven’t reached “Joe The Welder” levels of success, satisfaction, or significance in my day job. But I can see it on the horizon. It’s getting clearer. Stay with me as we move together through the process.