“Leave It:” The Ethics of Focus
This evening, the seminary I serve as dean hosted our Woodbury Leadership Workshop with Carlton Highsmith. A respected leader in the New Haven business community, Highsmith played critical roles in the creation of New Haven’s chapter of the “I Have a Dream” Foundation and the ConnCAT job-training enterprise. He shared the story of his life’s journey, including struggles against racism and other forms of systemic resistance to that which fosters flourishing.
Highsmith also shared some of the secrets of his breathtaking success in effecting change. One of his observations left me feeling like I have a lot of work to do on myself and the way I organize my life: it was a statement about focus.
Highsmith describes the company he founded, and turned into a multi-million dollar powerhouse, as one where he insisted all employees obsess over customer service. He listed laser-like focus on customer service ahead of innovation, excellence, or a culture of continuous improvement as secrets to his success. As he named this priority, I couldn’t help but sigh about the way I’d carried out my day. And my week. And, to a certain extent, my life until now.
I have the perfect job for a person who finds it difficult to focus on one thing when a thousand things are competing for attention. As a dean, I talk with students about their lives, come up with program ideas, write books, plan events, coordinate groups of people, and raise money. If I’m not enjoying part of the job, I need not worry; I just shift my focus. The problem is that, when something requires my undivided attention, I don’t have the mental wherewithal to zero in. And even if I did, I wonder whether singleminded focus is allowed.
Focus raises ethical questions. Consider, for example, what it’s like to move around in our lives when we know about tremendous suffering in Gaza, Ukraine, and Sudan at this very moment. When I focus intently on something other than concern for those in peril, I wonder if I’m breaking a moral code of solidarity with those in harm’s way. I went four days during a March vacation without attending to the news. My stress levels went down, and my guilt levels — especially afterward — went way up. My subconscious says, “Why ought I be allowed to focus on something other than global suffering when so many have no choice in the matter?”
Focus affects relationships. At a microcosmic level, I wanted to give Mr. Highsmith my undivided attention during his outstanding lecture. But about five minutes in, I got a message from one who came to our campus to attend the event but couldn’t find the location. I think I was able to manage balancing politeness toward our speaker with hospitality to our wayward guest, but focus? Nope.
At the reception after the lecture, I tried to take Highsmith’s advice and focus intently on each person with whom I spoke. Then, over the shoulder of a conversation partner on whose words I was trying to concentrate, I glanced two alums of my school who married each other and made a baby. How am I supposed to make chit-chat when I see a 10-week-old baby, born of people I adore, out of the corner of my eye? God, are you testing me?
Focus requires that we maintain space for the unexpected. I knew that today would be a busy day when I said, “Yes, let’s get together” to two unrelated friends who happened to be in town from far, far away and wanted to say hello. I knew that I was booked solid when two people I adore reported serious, life-threatening crises within hours of each other, and, no question, I had to connect with each of them. These intercessions into my life weren’t a burden or bother; I feel truly lucky to have any loved ones at all. But these unexpected events reminded me that I need to keep things looser than I do. I stuff my schedule as though nothing could ever come up, and something inevitably does.
Focus requires discipline, not just when distracted, but every day. In his book The Wise Advocate (Columbia University Press, 2019), Art Kleiner writes about how our brains want to delve into the weedy details when the pressure is on, while pressure actually calls for leaders who can attend to the big picture. He recommends simple, daily, meditative practices, like conscious breathing, to train our brains. Focusing on the breath for five minutes, once each day, can teach our minds to do as they are told by their owners and operators.
Both of my dogs understand the command, “Leave it,” which I invoke when they’re rooting around in the dirt for something icky. I’d like to think I have as much or more control over my attention as I have over my dogs’ fascination with cat poop.
I had an amazing day, but it didn’t include victory on the focus front. I was flying from commitment to commitment, each meriting more time than I’d allotted to them. I’ll try not to feel too guilty about getting the proportions wrong today; I yet have tomorrow. But try to regain focus I will, not as an antidote to guilt, but as a form of stewardship. My attention, unlike that of our God, is finite. I must distribute it with care. As lucky as I might feel to have breadth of interests, impact matters too.
