Charles Handy has been called "the Peter Drucker of Britain." But in a sense, pinning Handy to a particular place misses the whole point.

In the last year alone, this venerated thinker and writer on organizational behavior and society has left his home near London to spend time in Hong Kong, China, Romania, Spain, Italy, Denmark, Sweden, and India. He's also made three trips to the U.S., where he just wrapped up a five-week stay as a scholar-in-residence at Claremont Graduate University's Drucker School of Management and the Drucker Institute, of which I am the director.

It was there that I had the pleasure and privilege of watching Handy up close and discovering a couple of lessons that all of us would be wise to heed -- for ourselves as well as for the institutions we manage.

Handy, as you might imagine, was a magnet during his stay. All sorts of people -- students, faculty, and members of the larger community -- were eager to pick his brain. And he gave generously, whether in the campus lecture hall, in small meetings, in countless one-on-one sessions, or during the weekly commentaries he crafted for public radio's Marketplace while in Southern California.

The Art of Listening

But what I noticed most is that Handy didn't always command the spotlight. Often he'd retreat a bit and discreetly survey the interaction of others around him, playing the role of bystander, just as Drucker loved to do. And when Handy did find himself at the center of a conversation, he didn't just answer questions; he asked them -- lots and lots of them.

Surely, Drucker would have applauded. "Too many think they are wonderful because they talk well," he once pointed out. "They don't realize that being wonderful with people means listening well."

Yet it wasn't just Handy's ability to open his eyes and ears so wide that struck me. It was that he tilted them in as many directions as possible -- toward academics, corporate executives, those active in the social sector and, most avidly, toward artists of all kinds.

"You've got to get out of your own box," says the 75-year-old, whose newly published autobiography, Myself and Other More Important Matters, traces his career as a Shell executive, co-founder of the London Business School, official of the Church of England, BBC broadcaster, and best-selling author. "Otherwise, you stop being creative."

Broadening Perspectives

To this end, Handy and his wife, Liz, a photographer with whom he often works, abide by a handful of rules when they travel. One is that they use public transportation wherever possible; it serves as a great window into everyday culture. Another is that they always arrange to gather with a group of a half-dozen or so thirty somethings so that they can get their take on the local scene and, says Liz, "hear their dreams."

It's clear why soaking in civilization this way would be of interest to a self-described "social philosopher" such as Handy. It should also be clear why all of us, on a personal level, would benefit from seeing more of the world. What may be less obvious, though, is the need for institutions -- whether public, private, or philanthropic -- to broaden their perspectives as well.

The first step, of course, is for those running the enterprise to emerge from behind their desks and observe. There are no shortcuts. As Drucker noted more than 40 years ago, "Decision makers need organized information for feedback. They need reports and figures. But unless they build their feedback around direct exposure to reality -- unless they discipline themselves to go out and look -- they condemn themselves to a sterile dogmatism."

Looking Beyond Traditional Boundaries

The next step is to be smart about where to look. As Drucker recognized, this often requires peering into less than familiar arenas. Through the 1800s and the first half of the 1900s, he wrote in Management Challenges for the 21st Century, "it could be taken for granted that technologies outside one's own industry had no, or at least only minimal, impact on the industry. Now the assumption to start with is that the technologies that are likely to have the greatest impact on a company and an industry are technologies outside its own field."

Handy goes even further, advising that companies should roam far beyond their traditional bounds to better understand not just technology but myriad practices and processes. Say, for instance, a manufacturer needs to tap a team of top talent for a project that will be disbanded after a relatively brief period. Handy's suggestion: Arrange a visit to one of the Hollywood studios. They manage high-end, short-term work all the time.

Get Out There and Listen

Similarly, Handy says, an outfit such as Penguin Books might well be positioned to teach a high-tech company how to outsource intellectual capital more effectively. After all, a publisher's entire business rests on this model. There are insights to be gleaned, as well, from peeking inside hospitals, theaters, and arts organizations. "Too many companies benchmark themselves against others in their industry," says Handy. "They should be comparing themselves to totally different organizations."

Gaining access, he adds, is not as hard as you might suspect: "If you're not a direct competitor, companies love to tell you how successful they are -- and how they do it."

All you have to do is get out there and listen.