How is the culture in your practice? If you are not sure, try this simple exercise: Select five words that best describe your workplace and how it feels to work there (Be fair!). Then think about the words themselves: Are they positive, negative, or neutral? Do any one or two words describe your workplace best? Reconcile the positives and negatives, ponder the words that stand out, and perhaps then you will have a decent idea whether you have a crackling culture or a crap one.

Workplace culture

Forbes magazine has defined workplace culture as, “The shared values, belief systems, attitudes, and the set of assumptions that people in a workplace share,” which, while accurate, does not lend itself to easy interpretation. In my estimation, it is perhaps more expediently described as the intangible force that binds or divides a group of people collected to achieve a common purpose. In other words, it is easier to consider a veterinary practice’s culture on a linear scale, somewhere between “positive” and “negative.”

A positive practice culture is one that effectively links its team members’ success to the practice’s by putting a premium on high employee morale and long-term professional development. Aligning any one individual’s goals to the practice’s is no mean feat. A successful practice does so by prioritizing its team members’ well-being, investing in their professional development, and ensuring they understand the direct connection between their role and the practice’s progress. Ideally, their growth and that of the practice should be synonymous.

A negative practice culture, on the other hand, is one that visibly focuses overmuch on the business’s success and palpably less so on its people. It values its employees, but only insofar as they are useful to the day-to-day practice machinery. In this environment, it is clear the organization has no long-term interest in its people’s physical, emotional, or professional well-being. The end result is an unmotivated, beaten-down, disillusioned workforce that expects sticks over carrots and is always underperforming, working counter to the practice’s goals, and chronically on the lookout for another place of employment.

A case study

I started thinking more seriously about workplace culture when it became clear ours had suffered under the influence of one too many toxic employees and an inability to consistently maintain positive employee morale.

Sure, the stress of the pandemic and the confrontational client factor had much to do with the downturn in esprit de corps, but one or two years on and I would have expected a more positive outlook. Instead, we were seeing chronic tardiness, rampant clique formation, and more than one ruthless gossip whose success in trolling for attention exceeded our best efforts to contain them.

Firing the responsible parties was not the panacea we had expected it to be. It got so bad I would get to work expecting another time clock mini-mutiny, a new rumor mill-related meltdown, or yet another Romper Room-style temper tantrum. I did not sign up for this. Where did I go wrong?

In response, I turned my attention to our recent hiring practices, the mechanics of our managerial style, and what had lapsed into an admittedly hands-off HR approach on my part. After critically assessing these, I identified three major areas of concern:

1) Staffing shortages. We had been short-staffed and had not had the luxury of picking and choosing our employees as critically as we should have—nor did we enjoy the luxury of firing every individual deserving of a pink slip. We had hired many employees who were too young and too green. While experienced in the field, they were immature, unprofessional, and unable to succeed. They hadn’t received sufficient motivation and hands-on attention, as we did not have the wherewithal to offer it at the time. In retrospect, it is a common-enough pitfall we could have managed more effectively.

2) Reactive management style. Everyone had been wearing multiple hats and the stress meant patience was wearing thin. Busy as we were, our managerial style had become reactive instead of proactive. Instead of our trademark motivational style, we had become more defensive and punitive than we had previously been. Predictably, this did not go over well with generation Z—or with anyone else.

3) Loss of mission clarity. Here is where I confess, I personally dropped the managerial ball. The practice had gotten way busier, and I had become overwhelmed with my workload as a clinician. The resulting hands-off approach not only made way for others’ more confrontational style, but it also meant I was not taking my leadership directly to the team. My vision was not being communicated and, consequently, the team felt disoriented, insecure, and unmotivated.

Is it a culture problem or a question of morale?

You might argue the case study boils down to a simple decline in morale. After all, the team was put out by the management’s stress and style, right? True enough, but I would argue that, above all else, how we manage people defines the culture. It is based on the fundamental values of any organization, which are most tellingly reflected in our approach to leadership, participation, and teamwork.

While our practice’s culture was not fundamentally changed because leadership took a nap, its core values—an egalitarian, family-centric practice, committed to the personal and professional development of its team—were clearly shaken by a challenge it could not stand up to. Hence, the subsequent decline in morale.

Since the two are often mistakenly conflated, it is important to make a clear distinction between culture and morale. After all, a simple dip in morale can be boosted by throwing birthday parties, buying lunches, and generally engaging in a salubrious round of communal backslapping. Meanwhile, no amount of pizza or cake will lift a team’s spirits when it does not feel valued, supported, or safe. What’s more, unlike morale, culture drift can be hard to reverse once it is come unmoored.

How to reverse culture drift

This much I know: Once you have admitted you have a problem, you have to commit to making a change. While I’m no expert on culture rehabilitation (I’m currently earning my bona fides), I do have a plan. Here is what I have so far:

• Where did I go wrong? I have outlined my leadership shortcomings so I can better acquaint myself with what it will take to reverse course.
• What do I have to work with? I have taken inventory of my team and planned meetings with each one so I can educate myself on the current state of my team’s mindset and limit the number of unhelpful assumptions.
• What is my overarching strategy? I’m not quite sure, yet. At the moment, it involves a lot of listening, but, at some point, I’m planning to hit the reset button by admitting we have a problem, describing a new vision, proclaiming our specific intentions, and outlining the steps we can all take to better align the practice’s goals with its people’s.

I’m pretty sure there are more steps in any rehabilitation process. In fact, the tried-and-true 12-step approach is probably as good a guide as any—one I will be referencing frequently to be sure I leave no stone unturned. For now, as I embark on my listening tour, it is probably enough to know I have committed to the process, to the practice, and to the scores of people who still call our place home. Stay tuned for updates.

Patty Khuly, VMD, MBA, owns a small animal practice in Miami and is available at drpattykhuly.com. Columnists’ opinions do not necessarily reflect those of Veterinary Practice News.