As a budding film director, I once produced a mini-documentary on a solar panel marketed by Paul, an Indian friend. He quickly gave me an overview — the goal, the appeal, etc. Our meeting took five minutes. I was off to Palawan, where solar panels had been sold to fishermen and farmers.
On location, I had a very simple goal of shooting a beautiful sunrise as the intro of the mini-documentary. The crew was at the site early, coming in when it was still dark to do the setup. I was a bit late, and the glimmer of blue on the horizon was coming out.
My assistant, Monching, an eager beaver I was training in basic film direction, was giving orders to the cameraman.
MONCHING (To the cameraman): Okay, have you set a white balance?
CAMERAMAN: Yes, sir.
MONCHING: Of course, you know why we need to set the white balance. During sunrise, the color temperature is yellowish, so we need to make adjustments.
ME: Monching, we don’t need to set up a white balance because a yellowish sunrise is more dramatic. In fact, we may make it more yellow-orange in the computer.
MONCHING: Oh, I see. Yes, Direk. (To the cameraman) You heard Direk. Remove the white balance. Now, zoom in to get a larger sun. You see the silhouette of the tree? Place it on the left of the frame. Set your shutter speed at 1/125, your opening correspondingly.
ME: Monching, do not over-dictate. Don’t impose your creativity on the cameraman. Do not give him technical jargon. He knows better than you. Give him a chance to use his creativity. Don’t insult him and make him a robot.
CAMERAMAN (Trying to save face for the embarrassed Monching): It’s all right, Direk.
ME: No, it is not all right. Monching, over direction is an ego trip. Give him elbow room. I’m sorry, I just have to be brutally frank. Let me take over.
MONCHING (Blushing red): I’m sorry, Direk.
ME (To the cameraman): We are going to have breakfast. You do it the way you want. Erase all the directions Monching gave you. Move around. Play around. Give me your best.
The cameraman was eager to have the right to be creative. He was no longer a robot being pushed around. He knew the technical aspects of cameras more than Monching, who was not a cameraman, only a direk wannabe.
When the cameraman showed me what he did, it was far better than Monching’s brand of creativity. He was truly a creative photographer who knew both the technical and the creative. When I praised his work, he gave me a big smile I will never forget. I boosted his ego, which was being suppressed by micromanagers.
Paul was not a micromanager, giving me a short five minutes to explain the project. I may have turned the job down if he were, as I hate micromanagers.
The word “micromanager” is used in the corporate world to refer to guys like Monching, who are overeager and egotistically all-knowing. Being branded a micromanager is actually very insulting. Over and above ego, the micromanager is insecure. He always has to prove himself to his superiors because of feelings of inadequacy. He lacks self-confidence and is not sure of his work, and he hides it by giving orders left and right. Micromanagers are easy to spot. You can discern them quickly by their actions.
If your boss is a micromanager, you are in deep trouble, whether you are an accountant or a supervisor. A micromanager’s greatest fault is the insult he gives to his staff and the low morale he induces in the workplace. A micromanager will always defend his ego. So, be careful. He can easily get back at you as a subordinate.
Now, ask yourself if you are a micromanager of sorts, whether extremely or partly, and change your ways. You will notice that the moment you shed your micromanager skin, you achieve the charisma that makes you a better manager, respected and liked by your people.
View my solar panel docu (narration by daughter Bernadette, apologies for low-resolution quality) = Solar Energy for the Poor. Palawan, Philippines.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dReuerLaNBo
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