I have a dog.
I have a Roomba.
And because I have a dog, I use the Roomba every day.
I named him Edmund.
Well, correction.
My kids named him Edmund, and that has stuck.
I usually like Edmund. He works for me every day. Cleaning up dog hair and keeping my floors tidy.
But the other day, when I delegated to Edmund his daily task, he was not productive.
I started Edmund around 8 a.m., and I let him run for at least two and a half hours. I could hear him in the background while I worked—cruising around my hardwood floors, dodging furniture, banging into shoes and chair legs, maneuvering around cords and sundry items.
I enjoy hearing Edumnd working, because I know that while I’m doing my best to be productive, Edmund is also taking his job seriously. Together, we are doubling our efforts.
But that day, after his two and a half hours of supposed vacuuming, I went to empty the bin—
And it was completely empty.
Nothing. No dog hair. No crumbs. No dust bunnies. I was dumbstruck. And frustrated.
I had left Edmund to do his job. I had trusted that he would do it. But when it was time for Edmund’s report, he came back empty handed. He had nothing to show for it. And I was upset.
Perhaps against my better judgement – I gave Edmund the rest of the day off, thinking a little PTO would allow him to reset and come back refreshed and ready to have a good morning the next day.
I vented to some friends. Told my parents about it over lunch – somewhat tongue in cheek. And it was funny. But I was also frustrated with my partner.
Seriously, Edmund? I count on you!
Then this morning, I gave Edmund a fresh start. I let him run for about 15 or 20 minutes and checked his bin again.
Still empty!
At that point I thought—I’m either going to have to fire this guy or find out what’s really going on.
I wanted to assume the best – that Edmund had actually been trying. That he’d been working hard. That he wanted to deliver. But maybe there was something beyond his control that was getting in his way.
So I opened him up.
And sure enough, there it was: a clog.
A thick backlog of dog hair jammed between the brush and the bin.
Edmund had been doing his best. He’d been working hard, driving this way and that, knocking his poor little head on my walls. Dodging my son’s clothes on the floor. And he had been vacuuming. He had been sweeping. He had been tracking his own activity and covering as much ground as he could.
But the hair couldn’t get through. The system was blocked.
And it was completely out of Edmund’s control.
So I took a few minutes to disassemble the brush, clean out the duct, and get rid of the extra hair.
Then I set him free again.
And you know what?
He performed the task beautifully. No clog. A bin full of hair and other treasures. And a clean floor.
Forgive the possibly too-easy analogy, but I think there’s a lesson to be learned here by anyone in leadership.
I’m a fundraiser, so I think about productivity in terms of dollars raised, donors contacted, relationships deepened, missions advanced.
And yes—there are times I get frustrated when things don’t move at the pace I want them to.
It’s tempting to blame others when progress slows. Maybe a team member didn’t follow through. A volunteer dropped the ball. A client stalled out or went a different direction
It’s easy to look outward.
It’s easy to blame the person.
But sometimes, there’s an internal snag—something in the system that’s keeping things from flowing. Something mechanical. Procedural. Logistical. Something that isn’t about effort, or care, or ability—but that still prevents the work from being as meaningful and “productive” as you’d like it to be.
And I guess what Edmunded reminded me is that – if you take the time to remove that barrier, unclog the system – things can get moving right back along the way they should.
And missions will advance, dollars can be raised, and good will be done.
So if you’re a nonprofit leader, a fundraiser, a business owner, or anyone managing a team: before you pass the blame, pause. Look under the hood. Make sure the systems you think work are not clogged up. Make sure they are supporting your people, not slowing them down.
And if you do find a snag, take the responsibility of moving it out of the way. Then set your team free to be as awesome as you know they are.
Edmund would appreciate it.
And I’m pretty sure your team will too.
