Grabbing on for Your Life: When Should You Unleash Your Inner Control Freak?

Although it is good manners to credit teams for our success, I think it is short-sighted and potentially foolish to underestimate the time-saving advantages associated with the focused attention of a single mind. Leveraging the great power of a single mind gives us incredible speed, breath-taking decisiveness, crisp ethical decisions, access to the subconscious, extraordinary intuitive leaps, and the added bonus of internal consistency. 

	"Mountain Pines" by John C. Drew,  16 x 12 inches oil on canvas.

In a practical sense, however, it is important to know when to apply the power of a single mind and when to back off and let the group do its part. As a successful grant writer, I know it is essential to unleash your inner control freak at key moments in the grant writing process. 

For example, at the earliest stages of the grant writing process, I'm very picky about choosing and sticking to the winning theme for any particular charity or educational institution. 

Once I've made up my mind about why the funder will choose to fund them, then absolutely nothing will shake that belief loose -- except for the arrival of completely new evidence or an entirely different competitor. I have found that it is easier to be a control freak at the earliest stages of a project no matter what because at that point in the process it is not so inconvenient or expensive to simply resign if others disagree with your vision. Later on, I am open to all kinds of innovative suggestions, but I will only include those suggestions if they further the key winning theme I chose earlier in the process.

Mid-way through the grant, I am a stickler for high quality research. This is often a bone of contention with employers and clients. In my experience, I think it is unethical to make an argument or assert an idea unless you are certain that you are backed up by the facts, especially scientific research which shows that your organization's take on the problem is correct and that your proposed solution will really work. When I worked for other people as an employee, I was sometimes fired after I discovered that a cherished idea at the employer's non-profit was actually little more than a myth. Surprisingly, I was lucky enough to find work with those who valued my intellectual independence and my ability to sort through a tangled mess of research to figure out what was really going on. 

In a lot of ways, it is easier to be a fearless advocate for the truth when you are working as a consultant. As I like to say in my workshops, I still do the same things that used to get me fired. Now, however, they usually like what I have to say well enough to invite me back for more. 

There is also a lot to be said for exercising absolute and total control of the grant writing project at the very end of the project too. This is particularly true as you get down to the final hours and minutes before the application is completed and delivered to the funder. As Kevin Wiberg, a consultant trainer for The Grantsmanship Center, notes it is particularly important to keep control of the final product: 

Reserving control over the final product means reserving control over the assembly of the final package, with all attachments and all forms. (I've seen someone who wasn't all that engaged in the process keep right on photocopying a proposal after a page folded over.) I watch every page go through the copy machine on the first round. So should you.

In my consulting practice, I am the last one to look at the final grant applications. I reserve the right to control the final product to make sure that we are answering the funder's questions, that the key documents are in the right order, and that we are following the funder's submission requirements to the letter. 

Yes, 80% is Good Enough: Why Perfectionism Hurts Your Grant Writing Success

One of the most persistent traits I have observed in charities that are going broke is a certain steadfast focus on what I like to call "inappropriate perfectionism." I suppose that sort of perfection would work in fields where you have unlimited time to complete a task. In grant writing, however, it can lead to institutional suicide.

General Colin Powell, for example, teaches that military leaders need to take action even if they only have 80% of the information they need to make a decision.  The problem, as he sees it, is that if they wait for the other 20% they will be in danger of losing the opportunity before them. 

In a similar way, I think it is a mistake to try to obtain anything like 100% perfection in your grant applications.  This level of perfectionism takes up too much time that might be applied - more profitably - to other worthwhile objectives, including applying to other funders for grants.

In my experience, I really don't gain all that much more from the funder with that extra 20% of perfection I've built into my grant application.  As long as I have all the elements that the funders are requesting in their application guidelines, then I'm typically better off spending my time writing some additional new grant applications.

One problem with setting 100% perfection as your standard is that you become tempted to simply recycle existing, already perfected material.  Although this seems like a smart idea on the surface, in my experience it leaves you with a grant that often displays little attention to the articulated needs of the funder. You have, in a sense, given them the perfect answer for someone else's grant application.

The folks that read grant applications for a living seem to develop an odd sixth sense that lets them know when an old grant has simply been recycled for a new audience.  They can detect recycling through the consistency of your message and the way you highlight (or de-emphasize) key elements of your proposal.

If you are willing to work a little harder, I think you can create a fresh and convincing message without driving yourself nuts with perfectionism.