I noticed two interesting articles recently. The first was the NY Times magazine piece about the heavy metal band Metallica. They decided to record their passage through therapy.
There is a scene midway through the documentary ''Some Kind of Monster'' that defines the film's vision; it's arguably the movie's most emotional moment and certainly its most archetypal. We see the rock group Metallica -- commercially the biggest heavy-metal success in history -- sitting around a table with a therapist, trying to establish how the band will finish recording its next album. The process has already been complicated by the departure of the bassist and by the drinking problem of the lead singer, James Hetfield, who has just returned to the band after a lengthy stint in rehab. Fifteen years ago, Metallica drank so much that it was referred to by fans as Alcoholica, and the band members all thought that was hilarious. But now things are different. Now Hetfield can work only four hours a day, because the other 20 hours are devoted to mending a marriage that was shattered by alcohol (and the rock 'n' roll lifestyle that came with it). The rules have changed.This second article was in the Wall Street Journal. It's about CEO's in therapy.
Metallica's drummer, a kinetic 40-year-old Dane named Lars Ulrich, is having a difficult time dealing with these new parameters. He paces the room, finally telling Hetfield that he is ''self-absorbed'' and ''controls inadvertently.'' Everyone slowly grows uncomfortable. ''I realize now that I barely knew you before,'' Ulrich says, despite the fact that he has known Hetfield since 1981. The language he uses sounds like outtakes from an ''Oprah'' show on self-help books -- except Ulrich punctuates every sentence with a very specific (and completely unprintable) expletive. The scene closes with Ulrich's mouth six inches from Hetfield's ever-stoic skull, screaming that singular expletive into the singer's face. It's perhaps the most intimate, most honest, most emotionally authentic exchange these two men have ever experienced.
This is also the scene at which -- if you are in the audience -- you will probably laugh.
CEOs who have spent their careers beating out rivals, proving they can get results and masking their vulnerabilities, may not appear to be the type to seek psychotherapy. They seem too focused on achieving external goals and proving their prowess as unflappable leaders.
But more top executives are seeing therapists these days. The stigma about mental illness persists, so most keep their sessions secret. But unlike earlier generations of executives, today's CEOs know they don't have to be falling apart to seek help. "CEOs have the same relationship problems and life-stage issues as the rest of us," says Robert Michels, a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst at Cornell University's Weill Medical College in New York who has treated top executives in financial services and other industries.
The CEO of a New York technology company didn't realize he was depressed when he started skipping meetings and not returning phone calls. But he did know that his remoteness was detrimental to his employees and his business, and he asked a close friend to recommend a therapist.
Just talking about his difficulties helped, and he began communicating more regularly with his staff. But then, suddenly, after a crisis at work, he withdrew all over again. "He may have instigated that crisis, but it's forced him to think about whether he really wants to be the boss who always has to be in front of people," says Kenneth Eisold, the executive's psychotherapist. "He's under pressure to do it or get out -- but he sees that he has choices."
Once they reach the top, CEOs often find themselves isolated, with hardly anyone to confide in, yet pressured to measure up to an image. "They think others expect them to be visionary or always in control," says Thomas Saporito, senior vice president of RHR International, a Chicago-based consulting firm that works with executives on management development and succession planning. Add to this the difficulty that high-achieving executives have in allotting time for their families or pursuits outside of work and "you have a lot of CEOs saying, 'Oh my God, what am I up against, and who can I talk to?' " he says.