Choosing a team: ability, or how much they care?
Originally written in Chinese. Translated with AI, reviewed by Gary. Read the Chinese original →
Last night I wrote a short piece saying that when a company starts going wrong, the earliest sign may not be cash flow, but capable people who used to care a lot about the company quietly starting to leave. After I posted it, several people messaged me privately. Not just one. Really, several.
Reading their messages made me think of another question: when we look for a team, partners or staff, what matters more, their ability or their heart for the company?
If you ask me, I'd choose heart.
That answer is a little contradictory, especially coming from someone like me who believes so much in data. You can look at sales, calculate profit, and judge ability from what someone has done and the results they've delivered.
But heart: how do you measure it? You can't tell an employee their heart for the company was 80% this month and 90% next month. It's abstract and hard to see in an interview. Yet the longer I run businesses, the more I feel it weighs far more than we imagine.
By heart I mean whether someone truly cares about whether the work is done well. When they spot a problem, do they think one step further? When something goes wrong, do they follow up on their own? When they could already hand it in, do they go back and improve it because it isn't good enough yet? Some things they'll think of even when you didn't ask. You may not know right away, and it may not show up in a report, but over time the difference is huge.
Heart doesn't fit in a job description
Jack Ma once shared a view on hiring: when starting up, don't assume your team will get stronger just because you hire senior executives from big companies. He used an interesting analogy, like fitting a Boeing 747 engine somewhere it doesn't belong. Impressive CV, lots of experience, but in your company, not necessarily right for the current environment. What he stressed was finding the right people who believe in what you're doing, and building the team together.
Nike's Shoe Dog gave me a similar feeling. That early group had accountants, lawyers and running fanatics, each capable in their own way and a bit eccentric. They trusted each other and were deeply invested in the business. Reading their story, what moved me most was that every time the company hit another problem, these people were inside finding a way, feeling their way forward and building things as they went. They had truly put their hearts into it.
I also have a story from people around me. I won't name names; it's too sensitive. A friend of mine started a company, and for a while cash flow was so tight it wasn't clear they could make payroll. Do you know what happened? A senior executive the company had hired, a salaried executive, mind you, actually lent money to the company to get it through. When I heard that, it really moved me. His own salary might have been at risk, and he was still willing to put money in. How do you write that kind of commitment into a job description? How do you ask one question in an interview to find it?
Of course, employees have no obligation to lend money to the company. Responsibility for the company's funds lies with the boss. What moved me is that this kind of trust and attachment can form between a person and a company. He had come to see it as something he also wanted to protect.
When I say I choose heart, I also know heart alone doesn't automatically get things done. What you don't know, you still have to learn; what you do badly, you still have to fix; the skills you lack still have to be built. It's just that compared with someone who knows everything but never really commits, I'd rather go forward with someone who truly cares, is willing to learn, and is willing to face problems together. I'm willing to spend time developing them and to give them chances, because I believe they'll take those chances seriously.
But that heart also needs the company to take it seriously. Did we listen to the problems they raised? Did we keep the promises we made them? When they want to do things well, does the company give them room to? Having heart doesn't mean someone can keep absorbing disappointment forever.
The ones who left quietly
Having written this far, I went back to last night's post. I won't get into whether the people who messaged me really are highly capable, and I'm in no hurry to judge why they left their companies. Instead I'm wondering why that line struck a chord with them, enough that they'd message me privately.
I think it may be because that line reminded them of the version of themselves who once cared so much.
Maybe they really planned to accomplish something at that company. Maybe a mission they believed in, maybe building up a team, or maybe just a feeling that some things should be done well and they could contribute. They had hoped, worked hard, and thought seriously about what they and the company might become. But in the end, with a lot of helplessness, they left quietly.
So what that line touched may not have been "I'm the capable one". More likely it was: "I once really wanted to do things well here."
And because they once put their heart into it, leaving hurt.