The other day, I was listening to the General Manager of the Pittsburgh Pirates’ baseball team. He was describing the club’s philosophy as it related to player development.

This guy was mostly talking about his Minor League organization, not the “Big Club” that resides right here in Pittsburgh. “We really don’t care much about winning,” he said, “We really only care about seeing improvements at all levels of our Minor League operations.”

Up until I heard that, I was only casually listening. But when I heard the phrase, “We don’t care about winning,” my head immediately jerked in the direction of the radio. Could he really have said what I just heard?

This GM went on to explain, “the organization’s philosophy was essentially to use hard, and measurable criteria to produce an individual pre- and post-assessment of each player, at each Minor League level. (Note: For those not familiar, professional baseball, unlike any other professional sport, has what is known as a “Farm System.” The “levels” in these Farm Systems become increasingly more difficult as you move up from “Class A,” to “Class AA,” and then ultimately up to “Class AAA.”)

“Measurement of hard criteria so that pre- and post-assessments can be performed,” I mumbled to myself. “Not a thing in there about winning,” I mumbled on.

So, when my wife asked what I was mumbling about, I yelled out, “Honey, I just figured out why the Pirates stink. Apparently, they’re measuring everything but the one and only thing that really pays off --- winning.”

I’m a teacher. And, as a teacher, I am obligated to regularly report both progress and lack thereof to parents and students alike.

Over the years, I have probably ruminated over this … the “grading question” … more than any other topic. I have asked myself, “So, do I measure them on absolute knowledge? Or, do I measure them based on what they knew the first night of class, and then compare that knowledge to what they know on the last night of class?”

Furthermore, do I measure them on overall classroom contributions, i.e., “thinking on their feet,” (the one talent that they will need when they become business people/entrepreneurs); or, do I measure them on their answers to written tests? (I’ve been in business almost 40 years … not once has a customer, supplier, or employee asked me to “take a written test” prior to: a.) buying something from me, b.) selling something to me, or, c.) coming to work for me!)

The problem I have is that, and no matter how you cut it, you can only measure hard, quantifiable knowledge. Everything else is just a guess.

But “everything else” is what is important! In the real world, we “pay off” on the winning and losing that only comes as a result of the character make-up of the individual, and not necessarily his or her talent.

So, the problem, Dear Brutus, lies not in knowledge or speed or talent. Instead, it lies in attitude and tenacity and will. All of which are unmeasurable.

And here’s the major disconnect:

In academia, we pay off on activity --- while in the real world, we pay off on results.

So, I take you back to Neil Huntington. (Who is Neil Huntington, you ask?) Neil Huntington is the previously unnamed manager of your Pittsburgh Pirates.

Neil Huntington is also the dude who said, “It’s not important that they win, it’s only important that they demonstrate progress in hard, quantifiable areas.” (Sound familiar?)

I have built many businesses in my lifetime. One of them is this radio station that right now is practically driving me crazy. Over the past two weeks, I, and along with other selected people in the company, have been working on a forty-page (complete with appendices) proposal to a large, international organization. This proposal means everything to Pittsburgh Business Radio. If we succeed in selling this deal, we are off to the races. If we fail, well … we will gather ourselves and dust each other off and try again.

You learn about your people when you are doing projects such as this. I believe it was five consecutive nights that only a few of us got to bed much before 4:00 in the morning. There were times, I’m sure, that epitaphs were uttered under the breath of people who simply could not even bring themselves to re-read and then re-do that which we had previously written even just one more time.

And yet, we soldiered on.

Thinking back, almost none of what we did to conceptualize, write, edit, re-write, proof, re-write, edit, re-write, and finally approve this proposal related to any specific and “measurable skills.” (Unless, of course, one of those measurables is “insanity.”)

As already mentioned, what “wins” in business is heart. And desire. And the absolute unwillingness to give up. Get enough of these people in your organization, and you can actually run small countries.

I’ve had many employees in my day. I’ve hired people who can, and before 6:00 am: run the forty in 4.2, bench-press 500 pounds, and still show up smelling like a rose at breakfast. But, more often than not, these people with these terrific “measureables” still fail to win.

I really think it comes down to this: the students you see with the 4.0 averages have learned how to play the “school game.” The “school game” essentially being “figuring out better than anyone else what, exactly, will be on the tests, and then memorizing the answers to those questions to ensure success on the test.

Now perhaps this is a skill? I don’t think so, but maybe it is.

But one thing I do know is that this is pretty much how we’re teaching. We’re teaching people how to anticipate the questions that will ultimately be on the test. And to some degree, this is a skill. But what aggravates me is the ways that these same students pre-determine the test questions. I won’t get into this here, but it really bothers me.

But I’m sure of this … we’re not teaching “heart.” We just have no way to teach people who get knocked down how to get back up, dust themselves off, and then take another run at the problem.

Maybe the real problem is the fact that the stakes in all academic environments simply aren’t high enough. Frankly, how can they be? It’s only a piece of paper.

There were times when this piece of paper had real value. Those were the days when degrees were in extreme short supply. Believe it or not, and in 1950, about 5 percent of all Americans had college degrees. Today, this number is closer to 25 percent. (Here’s one you’ll like --- in 1950, only about one of three Americans even had a high-school degree --- today, this is very close to 83 percent.)

People excel, people improve mightily when the stakes are highest. People triumph when personal failure equals great personal (and team) loss.

In the real world, you lose your job, and all of a sudden you’re eating a lot more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. In the real world, you lose your job and in time, you lose the very roof over your heard. (Or at least that roof changes dramatically.)

But if you fail in a training or an academic setting, you find yourself, at worst, being remonstrated for that failure. The better teaching institutions will even go so far as to explain to you how and why you failed and how and why you can minimize your chances of repeating that failure the next time around. But that’s all.

But these training and teaching institutions simply cannot replicate the pressure and intensity related to failing in the real world. By definition, they simply cannot.

Watch somebody in one of those multi-million dollar flight simulators at airline training centers. They crash spectacularly and the worst thing that happens is they spill some coffee on their shoes.

But, in the real world … well, you know.

The answer, and at least in the part of academia that I dwell, is to put the student in a situation where his/her own assets or resources are truly “in play.” (In fact, maybe we should set it up so that the tuition is free if you succeed, and doubled if you fail!)

Then, set things up so that the results of the test are as close as possible to the results you would get in the real world. With this, you’ll see learning. With this, you’ll see the people with heart and dedication slowly begin to separate themselves from the “pack.”

And most importantly, you’ll see people begin to learn the value of teamwork. You’ll see people learn that winning builds winners. Just as losing builds losers.

At least that’s how I see it. I’d love to know your opinion, and if you have one, take a minute to express it below.

See you next time I have another idea.