The excerpt below is from a letter I wrote in 1997.
On a Friday evening in 1997, I attend a retirement party for Dick Nesson. He is retiring as President, Brigham and Women’s Hospital (BWH), and CEO, Partners HealthCare System. It was an emotional evening for him, his family, and the 300-plus people in the audience. And for me. His accomplishments are remarkable. He was a co-founder of Harvard Community Health Plan. He saved BWH from disaster in the early 1980s and built it into one of the greatest academic medical centers in the world. He was a co-founder of Partners which is regarded as a bold, visionary move.
But there was much more than that being acknowledged that evening. I and most of the rest of that group (and I’m sure lots of people who were not there) are different, better people because of what we learned from Dick.
I learned that caring for the people who work with you and for you matters. It matters because they are people and that’s what people do; they care for each other. It also matters because it builds incredible loyalty. Loyalty that keeps talent, deters their leaving for other opportunities. Loyalty which causes them to want to give more of themselves to pursue the goals and work that needs to get done. I learned that caring is not a set of actions, although those happen, but rather it is an attitude. An orientation. A principle that guides actions.
I learned about the meaning behind the words “patient care.” I learned that it is the bedrock, must be the bedrock, behind all that we do in this field. I learned that it is more than making physicians the best that they can be. It is making nurses, social workers, pharmacists, and all of the other participants as good as they can be. It means reaching out to those who are poor. It means remembering that the patient is a human being, not a broken mechanical system. It means that the preservation of the patient’s dignity should govern all that we do.
I learned about taking enormous risks. I learned that we are able to take those and that, at times, we must take those if we are to lead. I learned about managing risk. I learned about supporting, helping those who are in the middle of a risky venture and standing by them, running interference for them, when the inevitable turbulence sets in.
I learned how to manage exceptionally talented people. Point them in a broad direction. Support them; resources, political help, picking them up when they stumble. I learned to cherish talent and nurture it. I learned to let them grab center stage when it all goes well. I learned to step in and take the crap for them when things aren’t going well.
I learned what it means to be tough. That it isn’t about growling or clobbering people. It is about conviction – about being persistent, stubborn. It is about making hard decisions and sticking with them. It is very much about having core values and principles that guide everything. It means never acting in a way that is not consistent with those values.
I knew about, but learned more, the treasure that is created by deep love and commitment to one’s family.
And, to the degree that I lead or am a good leader, I learned that from him. It is all of the above rolled into a complicated mixture of skills, talents, emotions, beliefs, and experiences that every day guide what you say and do. I learned that leading happens every time you say something, do something, are present or don’t say something, don’t do something, or are absent. Leadership is no single thing. No single attribute. No single skill. It is the accumulation of everything that you are and your actions. And within that, it is nobility and constancy of purpose and strength.
I have been molded and changed by Dick significantly over the last nine years. I bear his imprint and always will. He has made sure, to the degree that I was capable, that much of what he is, I have become. Every time I speak or act, I will feel his presence.
Dick died on October 18, 1998.