Leadership Lessons from the Cox

As I was channel surfing over Memorial Day weekend, I landed on the Big Ten Network and its coverage of the Big Ten women’s rowing championships. I tuned in just in time to catch the start of the “coxed fours.” As the name implies, this event involves a coxswain and four rowers. I own a Concept2 rowing ergometer, and though I’ve rowed hundreds of thousands of imaginary meters on that erg in my basement, I’ve never actually been in a racing shell on the water. However, from my limited experience I appreciate the power and mental toughness required of competitive rowers. That’s why I put the remote down and watched.

What made the race especially interesting was that the coxswain for the Michigan State team, a woman named Rose Pawlowski, was miked.

The “cox” sits in the bow of the boat, the four rowers behind her with their backs to the course. She steers the boat and coordinates the power and rhythm of the crew, communicating with them via a device called a cox box, which amplifies her voice across the boat. As I listened to her drive the team to a come-from-behind third place finish and a place on the medal stand, I knew I’d found a terrific topic for a leadership blog.

Rowing is an anaerobic sport that attracts women who are tall with above-average upper-body strength, powerful legs and an intense will to compete. Beyond that, they have to be mentally tough. As they propel the shell down the 2000-meter course, muscles aching and lungs burning, rowers must also cope with the mind games that athletes who compete in distance sports know well.

In contrast to her long, lean peers, the cox is a diminutive woman, and though she doesn’t pull an oar, the cox is the on-the-water coach responsible for getting the most out of her crew, urging them across the finish line ahead of their rivals.

When the gun sounds, she’s the CEO of the boat, steering the team both physically and mentally to the finish line. Like all leaders, she has some big responsibilities:

• The cox is a motivator. It’s her job to know how to motivate each member of the crew, to get into their minds and get them to crank at a higher level. She raises the bar. Just when the rowers think they’re giving all they have to give, she’ll ask for more. At the 750-meter mark, the MSU boat was closing on Michigan, and Rose challenged her team:
  • “We’re gonna move on them. Commit to me.”
    • The crew dug deeper, cranked a few more ergs on her count and passed the Wolverines.

• She’s a powerfully effective communicator. The crew wouldn’t know where the boat stands without her. She lets them know which team they’re moving on and the stroke rate required to overtake them.
  • How she communicates is equally important; her voice sets the rhythm. The rowers learn to ignore the pain and lose themselves in her voice. Here are some of the things I heard as Rose set the pace for the boat, the urgency in her voice changing as they surged toward the finish line:
    • “One, together. Two, pushhhhh. Three, together. Four, there we go. Five, that’s it! Six, breathe …”
    • “Legs … lean, legs … lean, legs … lean.”
    • “Slide … connect, slide … connect. That’s it, boat! In two, we’re gonna stretch it.”
    • “Surge, again. Surge, again … be the difference. Let’s get our name on the board.”
    • “Your move worked. We’re one seat up on Michigan!”
• The cox executes the plan. As the race unfolds, the boat is like a business going through different phases. The cox breaks the race into 500-meter bites and transitions the team, keeping them focused on the stroke rate that will help them achieve their goal.
  • When the gun sounds, the boat is like a startup that just opened its doors; the cox takes it through its starting sequence and establishes a rhythm. Surges to overtake another boat or fight off a charging competitor are like new product launches—hopeful, scary and daring—and the gut-wrenching pull to the finish is like those special times where everyone works extra hours and pulls together to accomplish a goal.

Here’s my conundrum…

How does the cox assume the mantle of leadership when she’s not hauling on an oar like her boat mates? What would her crew say about why they dig deeper when she increases the pace? What does Rose have that other men and women who claim to be leaders lack?

I’d love to hear from a rower or a coxswain. Maybe in this world of six degrees of separation, someone can track down Ms. Pawlowski and we can hear her thoughts.