by Jerry Madsen
Allow me to share a modern-day parable:
Once upon a time there was a man who sat down with his wife for a meal at Gibson's Steakhouse in Chicago. He had recently closed a big deal at the office and was going to celebrate by ordering their $82.00 "Big Porterhouse" steak; a feast truly fit for a king.
After he had placed his order, he could hardly contain himself with the thought of sinking his teeth into the succulent meat, which would be immediately followed by an explosion of flavor that intensified each time his jaw compressed a morsel into submission.
For him, eating such a meal was a truly religious experience.
As he sat there, hardly saying a word to his wife, he kept eying the kitchen door, hoping that the next time he saw their waiter, it was to bring him his 24 ounce slice of heaven.
Finally, the moment arrived. Their waiter entered the room. The man's pulse began to increase. He was making progress in their general direction and without hesitation. Indeed, this is what he had been pining for all day long.
As the plate was set before him, he entered into a speechless trance; the burden was on his wife to extend the necessary pleasantries to the service. He was reverting to a primal state-of-mind whereby instinct took over and all he could think about was devouring his streak.
He grabbed a fork with one hand, and began to feel around the table with the other - not taking his eyes of his plate - for the cold steel of a blade.
What he found was a butter knife. It will have to do.
As he steadied the porterhouse with his fork and began to slice with the inappropriate blade, his glee turned to confusion and panic as he was unable to adequately penetrate the surface of the meat. He pulled the knife back, looked at it, and grunted to his wife, "This thing is useless!"
He tossed the butter knife to the center of the table and found a wooden handled steak knife immediately to his right.
His wife picked-up a dinner roll, retrieved the discarded utensil, and used it to spread a soft, creamy, perfectly even layer of butter.
She took a bite, turned to her husband and gently quipped, "'Useless' is a matter of perspective, dear."
'Useless' is a matter of perspective.
As the moderator of this blog, I have been asked to keep track of the number of hits we receive each week. During a check of our stats, I noticed that the referring link from a recent visitor was a Google search for the phrase, "strengthsquest useless".
"strengthsquest useless?" What would somebody be hoping to find using those search parameters?
I have come to the conclusion that they either (1) are advocates of the StrengthsQuest program and want to see if there are any detractors out there or (2) they have had some exposure to StrengthsQuest - in one form or another - and have determined it to be... well, in a word, useless.
As was the case with our with friend with the butter knife, whether or not strengths is useless is entirely a matter of perspective.
Is it a get-rich-quick plan? Is it a golden ticket to life-long happiness? Is it the world view perspective you've been searching for all these years?
It is none of these things.
Does viewing yourself and others through the lens of the strengths perspective contribute to your excellence in work, family or whatever endeavorer is placed before you?
You bet'cha.
StrengthsQuest and the strengths-based approach is nothing more than a tool. A tool, that if used for what it's meant and kept in a proper context - in conjunction with intension and effort - can lead to a personal liberation. Liberation from be bogged down by the things that don't come naturally to you. Liberation to discover what tasks bring you satisfaction. Liberation from being who you're not.
But is StrengthsQuest useless? Only if you think that by simply knowing your strengths without developing them, things like life and work are supposed to magically change. Only if you think that the strengths approach is the promise to a frustration-free existence, personally and professionally.
The strengths approach is useless only when it's not given the opportunity to strengthen.
It's like... oh, I don't know... trying to cut an $82.00 steak with a butter knife.
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