What is the Lens Through Which You See People?
- 6 days ago
- 4 min read
I recently listened to a conversation with Bob Chapman that stopped me in my tracks.
Not because his story is mine. It isn't.
But parts of the starting point felt remarkably familiar.
Chapman came from an accounting background and spent much of his career in manufacturing. He was trained to understand numbers, solve business problems, and drive performance.
So was I.
I spent more than two decades in corporate accounting and finance, much of it in manufacturing. I became a Controller. I learned to read a business through margins, variances, forecasts, controls, and results.
And there is real value in that lens.
Numbers tell stories. They reveal patterns. They create accountability. They help us understand whether our intentions are becoming results.
But numbers can also become the primary lens through which we see an organization.
And eventually, the people inside it.
That was the idea from Chapman’s story that stayed with me.
He described a transformation in how he saw people. Earlier in his career, he saw them largely through their functions: engineers, accountants, people whose work contributed to the success of the business.
Then the lens changed.
He began to see each person as someone’s precious child—someone entrusted to the care of a leader.
That is a profound shift.
And it left me wondering:
What is the lens through which you see people?
The Lens Shapes the Leader
We rarely announce our lens.
Most of us probably don't even realize we have one.
But it shows up everywhere.
If I see someone primarily as a cost, I manage them differently.
If I see someone as a resource, I deploy them differently.
If I see someone as a performer, I evaluate them differently.
If I see someone as a problem, I approach them differently.
And if I see someone as a human being—with hopes, fears, strengths, frustrations, responsibilities, and a life that extends far beyond the walls of the organization—I lead them differently.
The lens changes the leader.
That may be one of the most important lessons I've learned in my own transition from finance leader to leadership and organizational health consultant.
For years, I was trained to find the variance.
What missed?
What changed?
Who owns it?
What needs to be corrected?
Those are not bad questions. In many situations, they're necessary.
But they are incomplete.
Because when applied carelessly to people, the instinct to diagnose a variance can quickly become the instinct to diagnose a person.
Someone misses a deadline.
We see irresponsibility.
Someone resists a change.
We see negativity.
Someone stays quiet in a meeting.
We see disengagement.
Someone struggles to perform.
We see a performance problem.
Sometimes those interpretations are accurate.
Sometimes we're simply seeing what our lens allows us to see.
WATCH: The conversation that prompted me to reconsider the lens through which we see people.
I’ve Been Reconsidering My Own Lens
One of the reasons Chapman’s story resonated with me is that my own career has changed how I think about performance.
I once believed many organizational problems could be solved through better analysis, better processes, clearer metrics, and stronger accountability.
I still believe all of those things matter.
But I've come to believe something else:
Many of the constraints on performance are not visible on a financial statement.
A team that doesn't trust one another.
A leader who creates confusion without realizing it.
A change initiative that ignores what people believe they are losing.
A meeting where no one is willing to challenge the prevailing view.
A high performer who no longer feels seen.
These issues eventually show up in the numbers.
But by the time they do, the story has often been unfolding for months—or years.
That realization is part of what led me to the work I do today.
Not away from performance.
Toward a broader understanding of what creates it.
A Different Question
Leaders are often taught to ask:
How do I get the most out of my people?
I understand the question. I've probably asked some version of it myself.
But today, it lands differently for me.
Because hidden inside it is a lens.
My people.
My results.
My goals.
What can I get out of them?
Maybe a better question is:
What becomes possible when people know they matter here?
That doesn't eliminate standards.
It doesn't remove accountability.
It doesn't mean avoiding hard conversations or accepting poor performance.
I would argue the opposite.
Caring enough about someone to be honest with them is part of leadership.
Creating clarity is part of leadership.
Holding commitments is part of leadership.
But the lens changes how we do those things.
Are we correcting a function?
Or developing a person?
Are we managing a resource?
Or stewarding someone’s child—a person we’ve been given the privilege to influence?
The Question I’m Carrying Forward
I don't think leaders wake up one morning and decide to reduce people to numbers, roles, or outputs.
It happens gradually.
Especially when the pressure is high.
We look at the org chart.
The labor report.
The missed target.
The performance review.
The open position.
The problem employee.
And slowly, without intending to, the person can disappear behind the function.
That's why this question has stayed with me:
What is the lens through which you see people?
Because the lens through which we see people shapes the way we treat them.
And over time, the way we treat people shapes the kind of organization we become.