The Mentors' Mentor

Remembering Harold Tanner

Harold Tanner died last week after nine decades as one of the great figures you have likely never heard of.

And that was fine by him.

In all things – as a husband for nearly seven of those nine decades, father, grandfather, great grandfather, a coveted financial advisor and investor, leader in issues central to him from Cornell to leading Jewish organizations and more – it was never about him.

It is hard to capture his presence when he entered the room – one stood straighter, acted more respectfully, had a feeling that one wants to just be their better self. Some of it was his great height and deep baritone voice, with an intense ability to listen and respond deliberately, making each word matter. He was also very funny, liked a good laugh, and had a broad and infectious smile – most often at his own expense.

But it wasn’t his physical manifestation that made us want to step up.

It was his uncompromising character and integrity. In all things.

Around a decade ago, LinkedIn asked its “Top Voices” like me to reflect on a mentor, and though I have been blessed with more than I deserve, Harold Tanner was the easy choice. No one, outside of my parents, had a greater impact on my career and who I am as a human being. If I have an even half decent moment as a mentor today, it is because of his example and life that lives on in every such encounter.

I am grateful to LinkedIn that I could write it when he was alive, and he was characteristically touched and embarrassed by it. I would not change a word of it and share it with you here:

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How many of you remember the Hal Holbrooke character in the old movie "Wall Street"?

This captures the essence of him in a way:

What thus is forgotten, or lost track of in all this then as now, is that there are a few amazing individuals in the financial worlds who care about what they do — their ability to help companies navigate thorny problems; to help growing enterprise find the capital they need to grow, expand and create jobs; to share the knowledge that in these rapidly changing, unpredictable worlds require sober understanding of great complexity to help navigate to our potential; to invest in a new generation of the same.

One of my first, and perhaps greatest, mentor comes from this lens. No surprise when I was a kid, paying off student loans on Wall Street myself, and this movie came out, he was regularly described as the "Hal Holbrooke" guy.

Harold Tanner is not a name from the headlines, in large part because there is little he dreads more than calling attention to himself. He has something few people give much credence to in the Internet virtual age — a presence. He walks into the room, and you literally feel his character. When you speak with him you want to be on your best game. If you are ill-prepared, he will look down at you (he stands well over six feet) and nod and quietly ask you the one question that clearly undermines any attempt to bull one's way out of it. He almost never raised his voice in my presence and when I saw him do it one time, he winked at me and noted: "I've been plotting that all morning. When they never think you get angry, they pay close attention to how bad they messed up when you do."

Mr. Tanner — and for more than three decades I've never been able to muster calling him anything else, though I've known him since middle school (he is friends with my parents) — came from modest upbringing in upstate New York, worked his way through Cornell on the GI Bill (having served during Korea) and up the rungs of the ladders of Wall Street the old-fashioned way. He worked harder than anyone else, and his first concern was helping his clients. He no more would think of the most inconsiderate one as a "muppet" as Goldman emails once revealed they did — and he'd happily lose a piece of short-term business to give the honest answer he would believe and maintain that the long-term trust was the foundation of what he built and where he built it.

As you've probably figured out now, Mr. Tanner is the best of mentors in that his greatest strengths are in his example. But he always took a supreme interest in young people who cared and are willing to work. He is without hesitancy giving a young riser the rope she needs to sail a ship, right up to the moment she's about to hang herself. And then he'll step in for that teaching moment.

He is one of the most respected filters in his field, and in this he has taught me much. How many times has someone asked you to meet with/help someone they barely know just to push someone off of their plate? I have a colleague here in Washington who seems connected to nearly every Senator and thinks of me as his token Internet guy — doesn't matter if some constituent kid can't turn on a computer, I'm supposed to help them. Mr. Tanner would never do this. If he asked someone to help someone, he felt he is putting his name on that ask. To this day, if Mr. Tanner starts a sentence, "Would you mind if I put you in touch with..." the answer is simply yes. It will be worth my time as much as that person's. It always has been.

By being such a strong and trusted filter, Mr. Tanner quietly earned the respect and friendship of, well, everyone in his field. He would hate me for saying this, but when I did ask him for a contact here or there, I inevitably found myself with the CEO of this, or leading thinker and impact maker of that. Because they knew if Mr. Tanner thought it was a useful connection, it must be. And they knew Mr. Tanner was always about, right below character, reciprocity. He believes and lives that good people of impact knowing good people of impact meant more impact will come.

At the foundation of all of this is always his fairness — in how he treats colleagues, bosses and underlings, Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen alike. How when he gave advice he always listened — hard — on our terms, not his. He doesn't want, nor ever says, "Here's what I would do." He socratically helps one to find their own truths, by clearing the noise of other people's impressions/opinions that often cloud our best judgment.

What amazes me most is that as years pass — and with different cities, growing families, day-to-day priorities a few lapsed months become years — when I see him it is as if no time passes. And his wisdom, of being "of service" has only increased.

I'd feel pretty special in all this, and I do. But at the same time, I have talked to others who worked with him over the years recently, and every one of them would write this same piece. He has been, by the way, one of the great figures in philanthropy — for his schools, for his Jewish faith and heritage, among countless others — but wouldn't tell you that. He has amazing kids and grandkids cut in his mold. His greatest boast, and most honest he has said to me repeatedly, "I married above myself." His wife Nikki is a great leader at Wellesley among other institutions, and great mentor in her own right.

What has he taught be about being a mentor? Everything. And not only about being a mentor, an executive and leader, but a human being. Be of service; focus on the long term; find women and men of character and stay close; find women and men of character who want to make impact and stay even closer; be tough but fair; never waste people's time. Be present. Listen.

The rest tends to take care of itself. May I be half the mentor. May I be half the man.