Your Success Doesn't Depend on Your Intelligence

Sam and Sylvester were opposites

Sam was number one in his class. A bright student who cruised through school and university. He was smart, eloquent, funny, and had an almost eidetic memory.

Sylvester wasn’t so academically inclined. Although he tried hard, he was an average student. Not good, not bad. He wasn’t shy, but he preferred to remain in the background — quiet and unassuming.

Sam left school and studied law.

Sylvester left school and became an apprentice spray painter.

Sam graduated top of his year.

Sylvester became a good spray painter.

Joining the police

Sam, despite having a law degree, didn’t see himself stuck in an office. He wanted variety, life experience, excitement.

Sylvester married his high-school sweetheart and had two kids in quick succession. With the added responsibility, he needed better-paying employment and greater job security.

Sam and Sylvester joined the police.

And that is when I got to know them.

I liked Sam and Sylvester

Sam’s quick wit and obvious intelligence could spellbind an audience. Everyone admired him.

Sylvester’s anarchic sense of humour would have us all in stitches.

In time, Sam gained many promotions and became a senior officer.

Sylvester had no ambitions other than to do a good job, go home, and have a beer. He remained a constable his entire career.

Sam had abundant and obvious smarts. We didn’t need a set of standardised tests to assess his intelligence quotient, we just knew he was clever.

But Sam had something else

I saw many police officers gain rank and change in personality. The higher the rank, the more detached they became from the character I once knew. Some became over-officious or bullies. Not Sam.

Sam made people feel comfortable. Even when promoted to Superintendent, three ranks higher than me, he still talked to me like we were equals. He remembered the times we worked together on the beat; he respected my opinion; he focused on me — the person, not our status.

Sam was a star performer, so I felt for him when our Chief Constable had a go at him in a meeting.

Our Chief Constable’s reputation for unwarranted verbal outbursts preceded him. Nobody enjoyed getting on his wrong side. His blame culture and bullying had us diving for cover.

During the meeting, in front of us all, he lambasted Sam for his handling of the situation. He wasn’t happy with the outcome, Sam was in charge and he found him culpable. The Chief Constable fired off both barrels and Sam was in the firing line.

There were twelve of us around the table, and the only two not staring at their navels were the Chief Constable and Sam.

Sam remained calm.

He listened and nodded his head in appreciation of the feedback. He gave the Chief Constable his place. Sam’s conciliatory stance eased the Chief’s aggression. The Chief calmed, his tone lowered until he went quiet, spent of steam.

Sam thanked him.

He thanked the Chief Constable for the bollocking. I couldn’t believe it.

Sam accepted this unnecessary lambaste, but not quite…

“So, what would you have done differently?” he asked the Chief Constable, then leaned forward, waiting.

It was a mischievous question.

It caught the Chief Constable on the back foot. I could almost hear the turning of the cogs in his head. His eyes widened, and he came to realise that, in the circumstances, what Sam did was the only option.

It was brilliant.

We are still waiting to find out what the Chief Constable would have done.

Sylvester had something else too

Sylvester wasn’t as bright as Sam, although he wasn’t stupid — he could watch football and drink beer at the same time. He might not help you with the crossword, but he could do his job and he could do it well.

Sylvester and I arrested Willie Gibbon.

Willie Gibbon is the vilest of human beings. A despicable person, gauged by the despicable things he has perpetrated on our fellow men and women. We’d arrested him for punching his elderly lady neighbour, an assault that sent her to hospital with a broken jaw.

While conveying him back to the office, Willie Gibbon kept up a torrent of verbal abuse and directed it at Sylvester.

He said things about Sylvester, his wife, his children and his mother that would spur any lesser man to stop the car to stuff a dirty rag in his mouth.

Not Sylvester.

He didn’t bother. You could say anything to Sylvester and he didn’t take offence. He was the most effective person I know at controlling his temper.

At the office, Willie Gibbon continued his tirade of abuse. He struggled, he spat, he cursed and swore.

Once the duty officer processed his details on the computer, we escorted him from the custody suite, through several stark corridors and placed him in his cell.

“Aye, so are you going to give me a doing over now are you?” He said, defiant.

Willie expected us to take it out on him. What he’d been saying would rile a nun into retaliation. I have to admit, it tempted me.

“Och no,” said Sylvester. “Once ye calm down we’ll come back with a cup of tea for you, and we’ll just go through the processes and get you charged, okay?”

Sam and Sylvester screamed Emotional intelligence

Intelligence is our capacity to store and connect the information to solve, sometimes complex, problems. It’s useful. Being smart has obvious benefits. In terms of knowledge, it’s measurable.

We grant privileges to those who have letters after their name. We defer to their expertise and assign them positions of responsibility and authority.

But there is something more important.

Success is not just about how smart we are, or our qualifications, or what training we have undertaken. It is how we use that intelligence, and how we handle ourselves, and how we interact with others.

EQ focuses on our other traits; initiative, empathy, adaptability, persuasiveness and self-control.

High EQ has always been there. We used to call it soft skills or character or personality or competence.

The world of work is changing

EQ is now being recognised for its importance in the workplace. High EQ is emerging as the new ‘smart’. The ability to navigate your way through the complex interplay of human emotions is how we keep everybody happy and motivated.

In a turbulent environment, people lose their will to contribute. When we lose face, we lose faith and we lose sight of a brighter future.

Maximising the EQ in ourselves maximises our emotional interactions with others. In an organisation, this converts to getting the job done. And when we get the job done — everyone succeeds.

Sam was smart, but it was his high EQ that made him truly successful.

Sylvester also achieved success. His high EQ allowed him to accept life as a cop. He succeeded in his ambition to do a good job — then go home and have a beer.

Your reaction

Your IQ will tell you how much you know.

Your EQ will tell you how successful you feel.