The Hammer with a Smile

“You’re the hammer with a smile.”

That’s how a client recently described me. At first, I wasn’t sure how to take it. Was that a compliment? A warning label?

The only other hammer metaphor I was aware of before: “When you’re a hammer, everything looks like a nail.” And that is most definitely not how I see myself, nor how I’d want others to see me.

But maybe this client had a point.

I do move fast. I do have extremely high standards. I don’t look away when something is broken—I dive in. I challenge assumptions, ask uncomfortable questions, and push for clarity, accountability, and results.

That’s the hammer.

But I don’t yell. I don’t berate. I don’t make things personal. I approach tough situations with a sense of calm and a dry sense of humor. I smile a lot. I’ve been told I put people at ease, even when I’m delivering hard truths.

That’s the smile. :)

It’s a style that has served me well in nonprofit turnarounds, where urgency and diplomacy have to coexist. But it’s also a style that, from time to time, gets misread or misunderstood, especially by organizations that say they want transformation, but act like they just want a hug.

Months ago, a health care company reached out to me about a serious engagement. The kind of messy, high-stakes situation where I tend to thrive. Everything looked aligned. Then they asked me to take a “cultural competency assessment” to ensure I’d be a good fit.

For an independent contractor.

Now, I understand the desire to avoid toxicity or dysfunction in the workplace. But isn’t the whole point of bringing in an outside partner to get someone who’s not just a cultural echo of your existing team? Especially when the current culture is what led to the mess you’re in right now (and the reason you called me in the first place)?

I never got the results of that test. But I know what answers I gave. I’ve done enough DISC, Meyers-Briggs, StrengthsFinder, and Predictive Index tests in my life to know how I come across to these systems: I’m a Driver. A Commander. An Eagle. Whatever the label, it always lands in the same quadrant.

And those traits, while not always “cozy,” are exactly what struggling organizations need. Especially when revenue is tanking, morale is shaky, and the CEO is slowly inching toward the exit.

I was passed over. No hard feelings, and I wish this company all the best. But I couldn’t help but smile at the irony: an organization actively avoiding the very traits that might have helped them survive.

It happened again recently. Another prospective client told me, “Everyone loves your background. But there’s concern about fit. Maybe you could spend the first three months just getting to know the team, building rapport.”

Which is fine, I guess, if they want to pay me to do nothing for three months. Except the whole reason they’re talking to me is because they need results. Fast. And results don’t typically show up after three months of coffee chats. (Spoiler alert: we got past the “fit” issues, they hired me anyway, and now we’re crushing it.)

Here’s the larger point: You can’t have transformation without tension. You can’t fix what’s broken by avoiding what’s uncomfortable. And if your culture can’t accommodate people who challenge the norm—with kindness, but with urgency—then your culture is the root cause of your problems.

I’m not for everyone. But if you’re ready to stop spinning your wheels and start making hard, meaningful, lasting progress?

I’ll bring the hammer. And the smile.