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Survivor: CSO Longevity

How I've managed to keep the same job for more than a decade

June 15, 2007 — CSO — Very few CSOs last more than a few years at any given place. The turnover rate for security chiefs is pretty consistent with that of CIOs and some other C-level executives. Every three or four years, it seems, it's out with the old and in with the new. There are a few reasons for this lack of longevity, not the least of which is a lack of political savvy. Find yourself on the wrong side of a power struggle and you could end up pushed aside if not outright ousted.

Senior executives often surround themselves with people they handpick, and that's great when you're the one riding the coattails. But what happens when your benefactor falls out of favor with the CEO or board of directors? Odds are that youâ¬"ll be asked to seek opportunities elsewhere, too, if you haven't cultivated good relations with other key executives.

Likewise, if you're aligned too closely with the wrong person or group, guilt by association can stymie your career even if you aren't forced out altogether. Constituents in your organization may begin to give you the cold shoulder, and getting things accomplished in such an environment can be excruciatingly difficult if not almost impossible.

Now I don't pretend to know all the answers for keeping a CSO job forever. But I will confess to having been CSO of the same company for more than a decadeâ¬through a new boss every year or so and more mergers and acquisitions than I'd care to count. Sure, I think I'm good at my job, have hired well and produce consistent results; that goes a long way to not having to clean out one's office. But there are also some basic CSO survival skills that have helped me keep my job.

Survival Strategy 1: Learn to Adapt

One thing I've realized is that there are times when going with the flow is the only sensible choice. It's a lot like being in a kayak. Forget which way the current flows and you'll find yourself upside down in an instant, which is way over on the terrifying side of thrilling.

I have to admit that as a fledgling kayaker years ago, I foolishly ventured out onto some stretches of white water before I perfected my Eskimo rollâ¬that is, the ability to right yourself from being underwater without getting out of the boat. I had no business being on dangerous rivers without the necessary skills, but the allure was great and off I went. Luckily I compensated with a far less elegant and more dangerous approach, the wet exit, where the point is to get out of the kayak and get your head above water where you can breathe and see the rocks you're about to be washed into. Soon after, though, I adapted and learned to roll the kayak. I practiced the skill in calm waters until I could execute it flawlessly in high-pressure, fast-moving situations.