People have a compulsion to live up to—or down to—what you think of them. Make people feel valued, trusted and important, and they’ll tend to want to live up to your view of them.

Frank knew this, and he was constantly on the lookout for ways he could show his respect and appreciation for the people who worked with him. For one thing, he put the effort into learning the names of thousands of individuals, whether they worked at the plants or raised his chickens on their farms. (I’ve noticed that Jim Perdue does this also.)

Another thing Frank did (actually, we did it together) was we invited thousands of associates to our home for dinner. The diners usually included groups of 100 at a time and they came from all areas of the company—truckers, accountants, veterinarians, hourly production workers—everyone. We often did these three times a month for almost 17 years.

At these dinners, he’d wait on his employees, serving them from behind the buffet line. At the end of the evening, he’d address the group and tell them, “I know this company wouldn’t be what it is today without each of you!”

Having the people who worked with him as guests in his own home was a way of communicating how much he valued them. And how important they were to him.

The best listening requires total, full-on attention: The kind of attention that makes people feel important and valued. When Frank was listening to you, it was as if there was no one else in the room. Really listening to someone isn’t quite the same thing as saying, “I love you,” but, honestly, it’s up there.

Frank wasn’t effusive in his appreciation, but he calibrated it to fit the individual. He understood when an individual might enjoy a big public celebration or when another might prefer something more private and personal.

Frank wrote notes of appreciation that were so on point that people have told me that they’ve kept these notes for life. They’ve also told me that when Frank praised you to your face, you felt 10 feet tall. One individual joked that a compliment from Frank had so much impact that “it could probably cure cancer!”

When Frank wanted a problem solved, he didn’t micromanage the solution. Instead, his default approach was to tell the group the results he wanted, but encouraged them to figure out innovative ways to solve it. That way they owned the project, including the solution and its implementation. With this approach, Frank made his employees feel trusted, competent, valued and important.

People still remember that Frank’s attitude was that he wasn’t all that smart, but he knew he was surrounded by smart people whom he respected. He liked to say: “None of us is as smart as all of us.” He’d also say, “there’s a lot of brainpower in this room and we need to tap into it!”

Frank worked harder, studied harder, and made more sacrifices, than anyone. People knew it and respected him for it.

Frank gave people the respect of valuing their opinions, even when they disagreed with his opinions. He might argue with you, but if you could convince him you were right, he’d change his mind. People who did well in the company were almost always the ones who would stand up to Frank and tell him the things he needed to hear. His willingness to take other points of view seriously increased people’s engagement. 

I’ve watched Frank with U.S. presidents and with hourly workers on the production line. He treated them all with equal respect.

When walking through a plant, I noticed that he never had the attitude of, “I’m the big boss.” Rather it was, “We’re all a team, and while I have my role, I very much respect and value your role.” People knew they were part of a team.