One thing I always notice when I’m in a scene with Mark Johnson–the founder and President of JiffyGas and HConverters, complementary brands in the business of converting internal combustion engines to run on alt energy (hydrogen, nat gas, biofuels)–is how observant he is. He notices everything. When you’re speaking, he watches your hands, he glances at your feet, he looks you in the eye, he focuses on your thoughts even as they’re still taking shape in your mind. When he speaks, he speaks with much more than the words coming out of his mouth. Mark Johnson’s kind of communicating transcends spoken language. Yes, words communicate, but only on the Cosmetic level. It’s what accompanies those words on the Emotional and Meta levels that has the power to change the game.
When Mark visited Los Angeles last month, and I got to watch Edwin and Armando, the whiz-bang mechanics he’d flown in from Colombia, convert a six-year-old Lexus to run on hydrogen, spoken language was maybe the least effective communications tool they used during the two days it took to do the conversion. There were four languages being spoken in that shop in Alhambra–English, Spanish, Chinese, and Italian if you count the Italian narration on a DVD promo for the converter kit that Edwin ran for us on one of his computers. Sure, some spoken language was required. But what made the scene go–what got the team on the same page–in improvisation terms, what created the Group Mind–were the elements of communication that transcended words. Here’s where Johnson’s genius as a communicator was clearly in evidence.
He uses humor. Johnson knew what his team would find funny and didn’t hold back from expressing it. Let’s just say that the humor was ’street-level’, and Johnson was fluent. Edwin and Armando had never seen an American businessman pantomime some of the things Johnson pantomimed that day, and it kept the mood lively and productive.
Johnson engages all the senses. How things feel, how they look (”This is grandma’s secret recipe, keeps the metal in the engine from embrittling.”), how they smell (”Let’s move away from here, they’re starting to run the smog check”), what they sound like (”Sounds the same when it’s running as a gasoline engine.”) are important. He made a point of pointing out how good the coffee was. Someone else in the garage got into the spirit, went next door and brought back a box of cream puffs. They were delicious. The dainty pastries in the grungy garage literally added flavor to the scene.
He speaks with actions. Johnson did not stand still, nor did he retreat from the scene into his Blackberry or laptop, or confine his communication to the most language-friendly of the team. He lugged hydrogen canisters. Poked around under the hood of the Lexus. Asked questions. Viewed schematics with the mechanics. He was fully present, and physically involved. “I don’t even care what you do. Do something,” he says of the lagging progress in the U.S. toward alt fuels for transportation. Exactly. Do something. It’s way more effective than just saying something.
He uses meta language. This is the symbolism supporting your scene. The hydrogen conversion scene in Alhambra was part of a much bigger cosmos of sustainable energy for transportation, and Johnson constantly reminded his team of that. He knows what percentage of cars in the U.S. run on alt fuels now. What percentage of cars do so in Colombia and Brazil, and Europe. He knows the tax incentives for alt fuel investments. Knows the manufacturers who make conversion kits, who’s moving petrodollars toward sustainable ventures, and where all the major car companies stand on alt fuel development. This sense of participating in the greater movement, of being part of a larger community, gives meaning to the scene, and elevates its importance.
He listens. When it comes to making a scene productive, nothing beats good listening. It makes collaboration possible. It honors your scene partners’ contributions. It turns trivial details into significant opportunities. Johnson’s talent for observation that I described above? That’s good listening.
Most importantly, he communicates with emotion. Johnson is anything but a blank canvas. He paints pictures with emotions. Every gesture conveys emotion. He can be patient, excited, optimistic, indignant, generous, or whatever conveys the most meaning at any given moment. At one point, he turned to me and whispered, “Edwin and Armando would do anything to live in America. They see this (JiffyGas) as their ticket.” Emotions don’t run any deeper than that. And communication does not get any more meaningful.
Mind you that none of this is performed theatrically. It’s not done for the purpose of showing off, or to feed his ego by making himself the center of attention. In general, Johnson presents a steadying, supportive presence. Most of it what he communicates is subtle, or even understated. But it’s always there, and it’s always working to move the scene forward. (Johnson says his ‘recipe for success’ is “Curiosity, intuition and heads-down hard work.”)
Changing the game from the United States’ petroleum dependence to widespread use of alt fuels will take communication skills that transcend languages, cultures and geographic boundaries. On that day in Alhambra, I got a glimpse of what it will take. The Meta name of the new game is ‘Mark Johnson’.
Tags: Alhambra, Alt, Alternative Fuels, Armando, Cars, Communication, Conversion, Cosmetic, Edwin, Emotion, Emotional, Energy, HConverters, Humor, JiffyGas, Listening, Mark Johnson, Meta, Transportation, U.S.