BLOG: A way to look at leadership

ByDarrell E. White, MD

Twice a year I travel for my day job to a large trade show dedicated to a combination of continuing education and commerce. Part of what I do when I am attending these meetings is to provide services as a “leader” to the companies that sell stuff to people like you and me. The term that is used to describe me in this setting is a “key opinion leader,” or KOL. Sadly, I will miss one of this year’s big meetings. My surgeon has grounded me from flying for 3 months following a total hip replacement. In addition to missing the opportunity to commune with my colleagues and friends, I will also miss a long weekend of interactions with the industry as a KOL.

I used to think this was very impressive, to be a KOL. Frankly, I was very impressed with myself having “achieved” such a presumably lofty status. I’m not so sure about that anymore. Oh sure, I’m still plenty impressed with myself — I am my own biggest fan, and for whatever it’s worth, you should be your own biggest fan, too — but as I think a bit more about what it really means to be a KOL, it becomes something a bit more, I dunno, less.

To be a KOL, one must have an audience that is moved by your opinion; I get that. The mere fact that one has reached a stage in career or status where your opinion is sought is a stamp of “OK’ness.” No question about it, that’s flattering. Dig a little deeper, though, and you begin to realize that perhaps the only reason why your opinion is “key” is because it aligns with the worldview of someone who is telling other folks what you think. With few exceptions, even when anyone can join Twitter, quite often your opinion is only out there if it is key to someone else’s commercial well-being.

Looked at through that prism at least, it’s a little less impressive to be called a KOL, eh?

The goal all along for me has been to somehow be a key thought leader. To trade in a marketplace of ideas, hopefully contributing at least some degree of refinement to another’s true genius if I’m unable to generate any genius of my own. This realization, too slow in coming to be called an epiphany but rather disruptive to my worldview nonetheless, has forced me to rethink a big part of my place in the world of eye care opinion. Indeed, it has changed my conversation with industry.

Are you interested in what I think only because it aligns with your established objectives? Well then, you’d like me to be a KOL, someone who will knowingly or unwittingly move your needle, not mine. That’s called commerce, and it’s a perfectly legitimate exchange for which we can negotiate value. If you and I have a similar view of the worth of my opinion, then we may be able to work together.

Or rather are you interested in what I think while you are in the process of creating those objectives? Do you seek out my opinion before you launch your product? Ah, now, that’s quite a different story, isn’t it? In this case, you are really and truly interested in what I actually think. It has stand-alone value because you’ve yet to even determine what the dial looks like on your meter, let alone how to move the needle. In effect, what you have done is put my thoughts out in front.

If you think about it, that’s where real leadership is to be found. In front. As you listen to our various KOLs at this year’s ASCRS, at dinner meetings or through outlets like this, think about where the doc in front of you demonstrated their leadership.

Disclosure: White reports he is a consultant to Allergan, Shire, Sun, Kala, Ocular Science, Rendia, TearLab, Eyevance and Omeros; is a speaker for Shire, Allergan, Omeros and Sun; and has an ownership interest in Ocular Science and Eyevance.