Ed Batista

High-Performance Communication

This week I had the privilege of working with a management team on their communication and interpersonal dynamics, and a modified version of my slide deck is above. I've added banners to a number of the slides that link to posts and other resources with further information. Many thanks to the team for inviting me to join them!

Spending Attention

Focused attention is our most precious resource, because 1) it's extremely taxing on our intellectual and emotional capabilities, 2) it can have a amazingly powerful effect on its object, and 3) it can't be subdivided. (We can pay continuous partial attention to multiple objects simultaneously, but we can truly focus on only one object at any given moment.)

Much of what I do as a coach and as an experiential educator at Stanford involves nothing more than devoting my full attention to another person. This is somewhat easier in a one-on-one coaching session with a client or student, and it's somewhat harder in a group setting, but under any circumstances it's a challenging task that's almost always worth the effort.

Why is it challenging? Because even when we're one-on-one, we're bombarded by sensory stimuli and an endless stream of emerging thoughts and emotions that constantly draw our focus inward. The running dialogue we maintain with ourselves exerts an almost irresistible pull on our attention, and it's impossible to ever completely shut it off. And in any group setting not only does the complexity of the data stream increase exponentially, but our awareness of being observed by others who are beyond the sphere of our attention heightens our self-consciousness and adds another layer to our self-talk.

Why is it worth the effort? Because we're so rarely the object of another person's truly focused attention, devoting our full attention to someone can be a novel experience for both of us that in and of itself stimulates something useful in the interaction. The other person feels seen, heard, recognized, validated, appreciated or challenged in ways that partial attention never generates. And as we momentarily quiet our inner voice, we suddenly become aware of so many things that we missed before--not only about the other person and our environment, but also about ourselves. The subtler, more elusive thoughts and feelings that are usually drowned out by the louder currents can now be heard.

How do we do it? Three suggestions:

First, make the distinction between spending time with someone and spending attention on someone. We like to think that our time is precious, but compared to attention, time is cheap. And it's cheap because we can spend time without expending any real effort, and because continuous partial attention allows us to multi-task, flitting among low-intensity activities. So spending time with someone isn't the same thing as spending attention on them (and we're fooling ourselves if we think they won't be able to tell the difference.)

Second, respect how draining it can be to focus our attention for any length of time, and recognize our limits. Devoting our full attention to someone is hard work, and not the sort of work that can be accomplished through sheer force of will. Our reserves of attention are rapidly depleted, and that process accelerates when we're tired or stressed. Sometimes we just don't have it in us to focus our attention, and we have to learn to set boundaries and communicate them clearly and gracefully.

Third, practice. Focusing our attention, like any form of mental control, is a learnable skill. And while we can't simply force ourselves to pay attention for any sustained period, we can increase our stamina in order to pay attention for greater lengths of time and to shorten the recovery period between distractions. But note that many factors in contemporary life pull us in just the opposite direction. Entire industries have been developed to heighten our sense of distraction and keep us in a state of perpetual unrest, and we have to work actively to resist their pull.

Photo by Ed Yourdon. Yay Flickr and Creative Commons

Give It To Me Straight (Effective Feedback)

As an executive coach and an experiential educator, every day I collaborate with or observe people giving and receiving feedback. In a number of settings I work with groups whose purpose is improving members' leadership and interpersonal skills, and the primary tool we use is feedback. And a common trait shared by almost every one of the hundreds of people I've worked with over the last eight years is a desire to hear direct, candid feedback. I literally hear people say "Give it to me straight" in almost every group.

But this simple request turns out to be more complicated than it sounds at first. Feedback is one of the most powerful—and one of the fastest—ways to learn how to be more effective in our interactions with others, particularly when it’s honest and straightforward. But effective feedback doesn’t happen spontaneously; it’s critical to learn how to give—and receive—feedback in a way that’s effective in a particular context.

What “Give it to me straight” actually means in practice will vary widely from one relationship to another, and will change within every relationship over time. And an irony I’ve observed over thousands of feedback conversations is that when we first say “Give it to me straight,” we think we’re talking about negative feedback because we imagine that criticism will be painful to hear, but it turns out that truly heartfelt positive feedback can be equally hard to handle. Many people I’ve worked with are actually more uncomfortable receiving direct, candid praise than being criticized.

Giving and receiving feedback effectively are learnable skills, and while the five concepts discussed here may serve as helpful guidelines, it’s important to recognize that we can improve our facility with these skills only by actually trying them out. We can—and should—start in low-risk situations, such as an experiential role-play, a coaching engagement or a friendly relationship. But real growth will require us to get out of our comfort zones and to risk making mistakes when the stakes are higher.

1) Feedback and Social Threat

Most of us find the prospect of a feedback conversation daunting at the best of times, even in the context of a friendly relationship. Hearing someone say “Can I give you some feedback?” is almost guaranteed to elevate our heart rate and raise our blood pressure. These are common signs of a threat response, a cascade of neurological and physiological events that occur when we encounter a situation that we perceive as threatening. Neuroscientists have determined that we respond to threatening social situations in the same way that we respond to actual threats to our physical safety and have coined the term “social threat” to describe these experiences. David Rock is an executive coach who’s made an extensive study of recent neuroscience research to understand its implications for organizational life, and he developed the SCARF Model to characterize interpersonal situations that are likely to trigger a social threat.

SCARF stands for status, certainty, autonomy, relatedness (i.e. the extent to which we perceive others as members of our social group) and fairness. Whenever our status, certainty, autonomy or perception of fairness is diminished, we're more likely to experience a social threat. And an encounter with someone we perceive as unrelated is also more likely to trigger a social threat.

Given these factors, it’s unsurprising that a feedback conversation can be so stressful. Someone presuming to give us feedback is (at least momentarily) occupying a high-status position, and we may feel “demoted” as a result. We don’t know what feedback we’re about to get, so we’re immediately put in a state of uncertainty. Despite our discomfort, we’re likely to feel obligated to listen, so we have less autonomy. These factors are at play in almost every feedback conversation, and if we feel less connected with the other person or if we don’t believe their feedback is fair, then we’re certain to experience the conversation as a social threat.

A threat response predisposes us to act quickly on limited information, and while this classic “fight or flight” behavior is well-adapted to literal threats to our physical safety, it often serves us poorly in interpersonal situations that we perceive as threatening. When we’re in the grip of a threat response, our ability to understand complex information and respond to it thoughtfully is seriously compromised. We seize on what we believe to be the most important data and take action on that basis. While this set of responses surely served us well in our evolutionary environment, it undermines our ability to safely navigate challenging interpersonal situations—such as feedback conversations.

So when we’re preparing to give someone feedback, it’s critical to avoid triggering a social threat. Pay keen attention to the potential for any aspect of the conversation to impact the other person, including such factors as timing, duration, physical location and proximity.

2) Just Enough Emotion

Despite the risk of triggering a social threat inherent in any feedback conversation, one reason interpersonal feedback is such an effective way to learn is because it has the potential to evoke meaningful emotions in the first place. While the strong negative emotions that result from a social threat have the potential to inhibit learning and block communication, emotions play an essential role in our reasoning process. As neuroscientist Antonio Damasio wrote in his influential book, Descartes’ Error: Emotion, Reason and the Human Brain,

[H]uman reason depends on several brain systems, working in concert across many levels of neuronal organization, rather than on a single brain center. Both "high-level" and "low-level" brain regions...cooperate in the making of reason. The lower levels in the neural edifice of reason are the same ones that regulate the processing of emotions and feelings. Emotion, feeling and biological regulation all play a role in human reason. [p xvii]

In addition, emotional experiences resonate more strongly with us and stick more effectively in our memories. As neuroscientist Joseph LeDoux notes, “There is both an upside and a downside to the fact that emotional states make memories stronger. The upside is that we remember our emotional experiences to a greater extent than non-emotional ones. The downside is that we remember our emotional experiences to a greater extent than non-emotional ones.”

So while we have to guard against the risk of triggering a social threat when giving feedback, it’s essential to make effective use of emotion in any feedback conversation, and this means expressing just enough emotion ourselves to trigger sufficient emotion in the other person without going too far. If we express too much emotion, we may trigger a social threat, provoking a hostile or defensive reaction, and ending the dialogue or damaging the relationship. But if we fail to express enough emotion, we significantly diminish the impact of our feedback, resulting in an ongoing cycle of ineffective conversations.

The right balance of emotion is highly situational and will differ widely not only across interpersonal relationships but also according to the issue under discussion, the timing of the conversation, and many other factors. Our ability to find the balance that’s right for any given conversation will depend on our understanding of the other person and our relationship with them as well as on our ability to regulate and express our emotions effectively.

3) Build the Relationship

As noted above, when we feel less connected to another person, an interaction with them is more likely to trigger a social threat. When we need to give feedback to someone who differs from us—not only according to demographic categories, but also as a function of our respective roles—it’s important to be able to establish a sense of relatedness with that person to minimize the risk of social threat. And this work is much more effective when it’s done over time, across a series of interactions, rather than in a desperate—and transparent—attempt to soften the blow before delivering critical feedback.

John Gottman, a social psychologist who’s one of the world’s leading researchers on marriage and relationships, notes that the likelihood of a successful conclusion to a difficult conversation is critically dependent on what he calls “the quality of the friendship” in the relationship, and he defines friendship by the existence of seven factors:

1. Feeling known by the other person.

2. A “culture of appreciation” that nurtures mutual fondness, admiration and respect.

3. Sensitivity and responsiveness to even the most minor bids for attention.

4. The degree of mutual influence.

5. Accepting that some problems are intractable and can’t be solved right now.

6. An awareness that inside those intractable problems is often a deeply personal dream, and a willingness to share those dreams.

7. The creation of shared meaning.

Gottman’s research focuses on married couples and others in committed partnerships, and I’m not suggesting that our working relationships need to rise to that level of intimacy to be successful. But I am suggesting that Gottman’s guidelines for gauging “the quality of the friendship” apply to any relationship, and that they can direct us in our efforts to connect with others, particularly when we’re working across role boundaries and other dimensions of difference.

Finally, Gottman’s research also shows that the ratio of positive to negative interactions in a successful relationship over time is 5:1, even during periods of conflict. This ratio doesn’t apply to a single conversation, nor does it mean that we’re obligated to pay someone five compliments before we can criticize them. But it does emphasize the importance of positive feedback over time as a means of building a successful relationship. (Note that we can run into problems with positive feedback as well.)

4) Play Fair

A certain way to derail a feedback conversation is to trigger a social threat (and a subsequent defensive or hostile reaction) by providing feedback that the other person perceives as unfair or inaccurate. The difficulty is that the concepts of “fair” and “accurate” are inherently subjective. In Chapter 2 of The Interpersonal Dynamics Reader [PDF], David Bradford and Mary Ann Huckabay use the metaphor of “the net” to explain this dynamic:

Most of us act like amateur psychologists in that we try to figure out why others act as they do. If you interrupt me (a behavior) and I feel annoyed (the effect on me), I try and understand why you would do that. So I make an attribution of your motives (it must be that you are inconsiderate)…

As common as this attribution process is, it also can be dysfunctional. Note that my sense-making is a guess. That is my hunch as to why you act the way you do. I am “crossing over the net” from what is my area of expertise (that I am annoyed at your behavior), to your area of expertise (your motives and intentions). My imputation of your motives can always be debated, (“You don't listen.” “Yes, I do.” “No you don't.”) whereas sticking with my own feelings and reactions is never debatable. ( “I felt irritated by your interruption just now.” “You shouldn't feel that way because I didn't mean to interrupt you.” “Perhaps not, but I feel irritated nonetheless.” ) [pp 4-5, emphasis added]

As Bradford and Huckabay make clear, by “crossing the net” and guessing at the other person’s motives and intentions, we succeed in creating a plausible explanation that helps us understand their behavior, but we run the risk of being wrong. Even if we guess right in most circumstances—and we typically do—the challenge in the context of a feedback conversation is that the cost of being wrong is triggering a social threat in the other person and derailing the conversation.

The solution identified by Bradford and Huckabay is to “stay on our side of the net” and stick with what we know for certain—our response to the observed behavior—and avoid making any guesses about the other person’s motives and intentions. This minimizes the risk that our feedback will be perceived as unfair or inaccurate.

5) Give It To Me Straight?

While an increased emphasis on interpersonal feedback in many groups and organizations can provide us with more opportunities to test and improve our abilities to give and receive feedback effectively, it can also have some unintended consequences. A “feedback-rich” culture can be one in which people feel compelled to participate in feedback conversations even when they’re not truly prepared to do so. Feedback givers can feel an unjustified sense of authority and objectivity, failing to realize that feedback says as much about the giver (what we notice, what we comment upon, how we say it) as it does about the recipient. Feedback recipients can feel obligated to change in response to critical feedback, even when it conflicts with their better judgment.

So while I’m a confirmed believer in the benefits of feedback, I also encourage people to stop and think carefully when stepping into a feedback conversation, particularly before responding to a request to “Give it to me straight.” While it’s important to provide honest and direct feedback in response to such a request, it’s also important to consider the overall context—including the surrounding group or organizational culture—in order to meet such a request effectively.

Update/Postscript: I'm reminded of my recent comment to Whitney Johnson: "At the heart of every piece of critical feedback is a dream of a better way to interact with each other." This helps explain my emphasis on the emotional aspects of feedback conversations--when we're unhappy or upset with someone and want them to change, the purpose of any critical feedback we might deliver is to turn that "dream of a better way of interacting" into reality. But if we simply "give it to them straight" and fail to effectively manage the emotions evoked by the conversation--either by repressing them or by venting them full-force--we're much less likely to achieve that goal.

Thanks to Carole Robin, David Bradford, Mary Ann Huckabay and Scott Bristol for introducing me to many of these concepts and for the opportunity to explore them further while working with them at the Stanford Graduate School of Business.

Photo by rick. Yay Flickr and Creative Commons.

Three Definitions of Power

@StanfordBiz posed an interesting question over the weekend:

In 5 words or fewer, what does "power" mean to you?

I define power (and seek to exercise it) differently in three specific contexts: Within myself, in a relationship with another person, and in a group:

1. Power within myself is the ability to Express AND regulate my emotions.

As I've noted over the years, emotions are critical to effective performance and reasoning, among many other tasks. And much of the work I've done to improve my own effectiveness, as a coach and simply as a person, has been focused on becoming more skilled both at expressing my emotions, so that my impact is aligned with my intentions, and at regulating my emotions, so that while feeling them fully I choose when and how to express them in order to meet my needs. As you might imagine, this is an imperfect process at best, and I am most definitely a work in progress.

2. Power in a relationship is being Open to each other's influence.

In 2008 I defined "interpersonal power" as "the ability to modify another person's state," and while that still seems true, it also seems insufficient. Someone with power over me may modify my "state," i.e. my external condition, without affecting my attitude, beliefs or feelings. This is how ineffective leaders so often fail: they obtain compliance without actually changing anyone's mind, and so their "power" extends only as far as their ability to monitor and police. Real interpersonal power exists only when any changes we seek to effect in another person are persistent, and that happens only when both parties are truly open to each other's influence.

3. Power in a group is feeling Free to speak my truth.

A group's power is an aspect of its overall culture, not a function of its leadership. A powerful group is one in which every member feels free to voice their perspective, even--and especially--when the leadership is ineffective. A group in which members feel prohibited from speaking up will inevitably weaken, no matter how strong its leadership. And while effective leaders will support a culture that encourages members to speak their truth, each member will ultimately have to exercise that power for themselves.

Photo by Maria Ly. Yay Flickr and Creative Commons.

Setting the Table (Difficult Conversations, Part 1)

We know it's going to be a difficult conversation because we keep putting it off. We know it's going to be difficult because we feel unsettled when we think about it. We know it's going to be difficult because we're not sure it's going to end well. What could we do to make it easier and increase the likelihood of success?

I recently wrote about how we can alternately connect with or control others in the process of managing a difficult relationship. Many of the connecting and controlling strategies we might employ involve initiating a difficult conversation or behaviors we might exhibit during such a conversation, such as active listening or expressing anger.

In Part 2 of this essay I'll talk more about those in-the-moment behaviors and the internal dynamics that support (or undermine) them, but first I want to reflect on what we might call setting the table: tactical steps and external factors to consider before initiating a difficult conversation.

In my work as a coach I regularly help my clients and MBA students at Stanford prepare for any number of conversations like this: firing an employee who's not working out, sharing critical feedback with a close colleague, pushing back against an unreasonable superior, having a heart-to-heart with a friend who's struggling. I see five key dimensions to difficult conversations--Relationship, Timing, Duration, Place and Space--and within each one there are multiple questions we can ask ourselves in order to prepare:

1) Relationship

Who is this person to me, and who am I to them? What is our status relative to each other, both formally and informally? What authority or influence do I have over them? What authority or influence do they have over me? How will these factors affect my invitation (or my request or my command) to speak with this person?

Are we engaged in an ongoing dialogue, or will this conversation be something new for us? How will that affect their response to the conversation? (And how do I want this conversation to impact the relationship? Deepen it? Challenge it? End it?)

2) Timing

When should the conversation occur? What time of day? What day of the week? What other time horizons merit consideration? (And am I rushing things to get it over with, or dragging my feet in the hope that the issue will magically be resolved before I need to deal with it?)

What will I and the other person be doing immediately before and immediately after the conversation? What timing will allow both myself and the other person to be in the best possible frame of mind for this conversation?

What if the other person initiates the conversation before I expect it to occur? What are the pros and cons of deferring? What are the pros and cons of seizing the moment? (And if I choose to defer, how can I do so gracefully? If I choose to seize the moment, what do I want to be most mindful of in that moment?)

3) Duration

How much time should I allot for the conversation? (And is that a realistic assessment, or is that how much time I hope it will take?)

Do either of us have a hard stop at the end of this conversation? Do we need to keep track of time? If so, can I share that responsibility with the other person, or is it mine alone? What tools might be available--a phone, a watch, a clock? (And how much of a buffer should I leave between the figural "end" of the conversation and the literal moment either of us will need to move on to our next obligation?)

What if the conversation goes much better (or worse) than I expect? How good (or bad) will it have to be for me to ignore my schedule in order to continue the conversation?

4) Place

Where should the conversation take place? Would a formal setting like an office or a sit-down restaurant provide some useful social constraints, or would it feel too stifling? Would an informal setting like a cafe or at home be helpfully relaxing, or would it feel too unbounded? If there's a location in which this conversation would normally take place, will that predictability be comforting or stultifying? (And should it be on my turf, or their turf, or on neutral ground?)

What social setting would be optimal? How much privacy will we need? Will the presence of other people be helpful or distracting?

What other environmental factors might be in play? Will any visual distractions be in my line of sight or theirs? Will ambient noise affect the conversation? Will there be any physical discomforts that could make it hard to focus? (And if any of these factors change in the middle of the conversation, what am I prepared to do to deal with them?)

5) Space

How should we be oriented toward each other? Should we be across a table, or next to each other, or on adjacent sides? Should there even be a table? (And should we even be seated? What would it be like to hold the conversation while taking a walk together?)

What proximity is optimal, given the relationship and our respective preferences for personal space? How close is too close? How far is too far? Would I be better served by increasing or decreasing that distance? (And would it be comforting or inappropriate to touch the other person? If it would be comforting, am I prepared to reach out to them?)

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Perhaps the most important step in setting the table for a difficult conversation is recognizing the value--and the legitimacy--of this form of preparation. In some cases we're so distracted by the challenge of even having the conversation that we fail to consider the many ways in which we might prepare, and it's helpful to simply pause and remind ourselves of our options before we initiate the conversation.

But at a deeper level we may feel that it's somehow illegitimate to prepare in this way. We may feel that we lack the authority to influence these factors, or we may feel that such details are too minute to worry about, or we may feel that "staging" a conversation in this way detracts from its authenticity. And that's a good point at which to pause before Part 2 of this essay, which will discuss the internal and emotional aspects of preparing for a difficult conversation.

Photo by Dinner Series. Yay Flickr and Creative Commons.

Connect and Control (Managing Difficult Relationships)

Almost all of us have to grapple with important professional relationships in which 1) the lines of authority are complex and tangled, 2) the emotional signals and other interpersonal cues are hard to decipher, and 3) there's an interdependence between the two parties that can generate both excitement and resentment, depending on the circumstances.

One process that I've found useful in helping my coaching clients decide how best to manage these difficult relationships is clarifying how they might both connect with the other person and, in contrast, control the other person. I'm not suggesting that it's a 50/50 alternative: In my experience as a coach and certainly in the annals of management literature (cf. Daniel Goleman's Leadership that Gets Results, just as one starting point) connecting with other people is a far more productive and sustainable approach. That said, the ability to control others effectively is a critical managerial and interpersonal skill, particularly in a crisis.

I'm also not suggesting that we face a binary choice: We typically need to make use of both approaches in any given relationship to meet our goals (and a failure to meet those goals may suggest that we're relying on one approach at the expense of the other.)

There's a temporal dimension to these choices as well. Sometimes we're faced with an opportunity to act in-the-moment, and we need to be prepared to quickly employ a range of tactics suited to the situation. And no matter what the present situation, we should also take the long view, considering what strategies to apply over time during the course of the relationship.

The 2x2 grid above is an admittedly oversimplified depiction of this interpersonal landscape ("A map is not the territory it represents"), but I find it a helpful way to convey these concepts quickly. The examples in each category above aren't intended to be definitive or exhaustive; they're simply ones that come up frequently in my discussions with clients and students.

So when considering how to improve a difficult relationship, we might start by asking ourselves...

• What steps could I take to connect with this person?
• What could I do in-the-moment in a given interaction that might develop or strengthen the connection between us?
• What long term strategies might I apply over time that would create further opportunities for connection?

But it's also important to ask ourselves...

• If need be, what steps could I take to control this person?
• If need be, what could I do in-the-moment in a given interaction that might tilt the balance of power between us?
• If need be, what long terms strategies might I apply over time that would create further opportunities to do so?

I want to re-iterate that this isn't a 50/50 alternative--in most relationships, most of the time, we'll be most effective at achieving our interpersonal goals through connection. But it's magical thinking to believe that all difficulties can be resolved that way, and we put ourselves at a serious disadvantage if we can't exert control when necessary. It's also magical thinking to believe that control will yield sustainable success--with the requisite power, authority, oversight and time, we can extract compliance from anyone, but it'll last only as long as our stores of those precious resources.

So it may also be worth asking...

• Which approach feels more comfortable or natural to me? How do I feel about the alternative approach?
• Do I feel capable of switching between approaches as needed, or do I overuse one or the other?
• If I tend to rely on connecting strategies and avoid controlling ones, am I failing to step into my authority, make use of my power and assert control when needed?
• If I tend to rely on controlling strategies, am I failing to acknowledge my vulnerability, build trust and connect with others when needed?

Our ultimate goal should be not only the ability to draw upon both approaches, but also the ability to do so dynamically, so that we're not stuck in one mode or the other in a given interaction (or in the relationship as a whole) but can shift as needed, adjusting to changing circumstances.

The Essence of Training

The essence of training is to allow error without consequence. - Orson Scott Card*

With this definition in mind, how often do we have the opportunity to truly train--to test our skills in a setting where errors are "without consequence" Not often enough, if your life is anything like mine.

But even when our errors do have consequences, we can needlessly increase the pressure we feel to avoid making any mistakes at all--which not only makes it harder to learn from our mistakes but may actually undermine our performance.

I'm not suggesting that we become cavalier about making mistakes, but as I wrote last year, "those of us who learn best from our mistakes...don't view mistakes as personal defects, and [our mistakes] don't carry such a negative emotional charge. I'd suggest that those of us who hold a growth mindset are able to forgive ourselves for mistakes and let go of (or at least mitigate) any feelings of shame or humiliation. This forgiveness allows us to continue to focus on the mistake that much more intently, without losing confidence in ourselves, and as a result to learn from it more effectively." As always, our mental models exert a tremendous influence on our view of ourselves and on our experience in the world.

I recently had a coaching session with a client in which she talked about "letting go" of feelings of fear and pressure that had been discouraging her from speaking candidly at work, and as a result she "found [her] voice." She decided to take some risks and be more direct and assertive, and in the process she realized that (among other things) a fear of miscommunicating had been holding her back, and her candor and forthrightness were not only welcome but also a valuable source of leadership for her team.

To be clear, this was no "I'm mad as hell!"-style rant; this was a thoughtful effort to communicate more openly and honestly. It was also a deliberate effort to worry less about miscommunicating, and the result was a rich learning opportunity. And it was also a brilliant example of self-coaching using heightened self-awareness to intervene and take action.

So what mistakes are we worried about making right now? What feelings or assumptions are causing us to play it (too) safe? How could we let go of them--or at least temporarily suspend our belief in them? What risks would we take if we did? And what might we learn in the process?

*This quote is from Card's Ender's Game, his award-winning 1985 sci-fi novel. Card is known both as a likely source of inspiration for J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and for his socially conservative politics. I don't share those political views, but it's still an awesome quote.

Photo by tracy the astonishing. Yay Flickr and Creative Commons.

Truth, Power and Communication

1) Any power we have distorts what others choose to tell us & what we choose to hear.

2) The more power we have relative to someone else, the more distortion in the dialogue.

3) Any unpleasant truths we hear from someone with less power than we have are Precious Gifts, and should be treated accordingly.

Photo by Robbie Grubbs. Yay Flickr and Creative Commons.

Thank You, Stanford GSB Class of 2012 (A Year In Review)

I've been back at Stanford since January 2007, so the current graduates are the fifth class of MBAs I've had the privilege of working with as a Leadership Coach. I'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity to get to know 35 people in particular--11 Leadership Fellows and 24 members of two T-groups in the school's Interpersonal Dynamics course, aka Touchy Feely. To all of you, I can't thank you enough for the experiences we had together this year.

Any fifth anniversary is a milestone, of course, and yet on a personal level the past year has been particularly meaningful for me. The passage of another year has eased the pain of losing Richard Wright, my father-in-law, and Roanak Desai, a former student, both of whom died in 2010. I'll always miss them, but I've made peace with their passing.

I'm also truly proud of the work that's been done over the past year by the Leadership Fellows I worked with and by my colleagues on Stanford's coaching staff and faculty to revamp the school's Leadership Labs and the Fellows program itself. The effort wasn't as daunting as the process of launching these courses back in 2007, but it was close. I was pushed to be a better coach and a better colleague, and although I stumbled constantly, someone was always there to help me up. And while I'm very grateful for everything I got out of the process personally, what's just as meaningful to me is the sense that we all made a long-term contribution to the school's ability to help students become better leaders.

Finally, facilitating T-groups in Touchy Feely is always uniquely rewarding, and I learn something new every time. This year I was gratified to see how effective I can be at simultaneously supporting and challenging others, and I was challenged myself to be more vulnerable and to worry less about "making mistakes." I came a long way in my understanding of diversity and my ability to work with people across many dimensions of difference, and I realized how much work I have yet to do in this area.  And I was very lucky to be paired with two amazing partners, Erica Peng and Michael Terrell, who pushed me and allowed me to push back.

Despite--or because of--all of this ferment, the past school year was a tremendously productive time for me on this site, where I strive to share what I know (and continue to learn) about coaching not only with my students and clients, but also with anyone who might not have access to a personal coach or a graduate program in management. Below are links to 33 posts written from September 2011 through June 2012, all of which grew at least in part out of my work with those 35 members of the GSB's Class of 2012: Again, thank you all.

T-Groups, Feelings and Management Theory (September 2011)
It's important to better understand, express and manage our emotions. This doesn't mean just expressing "warm fuzzies"; it means taking some risks.

 

Phil Stutz on Taking Risks (September 2011)
What holds us back at the edge of the cliff?  What might happen if we took that leap?

 

Experiential Learning Revisited (September 2011)
Experiential learning remains central to my work as a coach and implicit in everything I do with students and clients.

 

Taming My Perfectionism (October 2011)
I had metaphorically envisioned my perfectionism as a snarling dog, threatening me, keeping me cowering in the corner, practically paralyzed.  And that's not sustainable--it's stressful and boring.

 

Five Leadership Lessons (October 2011)
Some reflections on what I've learned over the last five years about leading groups, with an emphasis on leader as coach and guide rather than as directive authority figure.

 

Don't Build a Castle; Put Up 1,000 Tents (October 2011)
Don't over-invest your resources (time, money, attention) in a single, grandiose enterprise. Instead, experiment across a portfolio of possibilities, and double down quickly on the ones that show promise.

 

The Air Mask Principle (October 2011)
Knowing that I can't help others effectively unless I'm taking care of myself helps me put my needs first when necessary without feeling that I'm letting others down.

 

Learning from Mistakes (October 2011)
What is a mistake? When we make a mistake, what do we think that says about us? And how does that framing affect what we learn from the experience?

 

Significance Junkies (October 2011)
It hurts like hell to admit our insignificance, and we find consolation in endlessly inventive delusions of relevance.

 

Corn Mazes and Mental Models (December 2011)
They didn't think they were in a cornfield; they thought they were in a maze, and while their failure to recognize the difference says something about their crisis management skills, it also says something about the power of mental models.

 

Hammering Screws (Bad Coaching (December 2011)
If good coaching feels like a trip in a tandem kayak...then bad coaching feels like hammering screws--a solo effort on the part of the coach that can make a lot of noise but accomplishes very little.

 

Coaching Is A Journey (December 2011)
I find myself returning to the metaphor of coaching as a journey at sea...

 

Setbacks, Mindset and the Fundamental Attribution Error (January 2012)
Thinking about some recent setbacks has led me to reflect on two topics that often come up in my coaching practice: mindset and the fundamental attribution error.

 

The Meaning of Mindset (January 2012)
Just what do we mean by 'mindset'? Here are 4 inter-related definitions to help us make effective use of the central concept.

 

Comfort Struggle (January 2012)
Observe Exellence! Honor Attempt! Comfort Struggle!

 

Why I (Keep Trying To) Meditate (January 2012)
I find meditation difficult, I regularly avoid doing it, and yet I persist in the practice. Why?

 

Resistance and Self-Sabotage (January 2012)
"The enemy is identified as those forms of self-sabotage that I call 'Resistance' with a capital R (in The War of Art). The technique for combating these foes can be described as 'turning pro.'"

 

Human Velcro (Hooks and Loops) (January 2012)
What hooks am I putting out there?  How effectively am I bidding to connect with this particular person?  Just as important, what loops am I putting out there?  How effectively am I perceiving and responding to their bids?

 

Blocking and Tackling (Fundamentals of Change) (January 2012)
No matter how lofty or ambitious the goal, the path to its achievement will be paved with countless small, humble steps.

 

Make the Right Decision...Or Make the Decision Right? (January 2012)
"It's important to make good decisions. But I spend much less time and energy worrying about "making the right decision" and much more time and energy ensuring that any decision I make turns out right."

 

Investment vs. Attachment (January 2012)
We invest in people, and being invested in someone means we care about them and want them to succeed. But if we invest in people, we're attached to outcomes. 

 

One Stone At A Time (Building Boundaries) (February 2012)
The key is recognizing that boundaries aren't static features of a landscape, but dynamic aspects of our relationships, our personal lives and our organizations.

 

Measuring the Infinite (February 2012)
An infinite distance lies between nothing--the unsaid comment, the unwritten letter, the undone act--and something, no matter how much room for improvement remains.

 

Suspension of Belief (February 2012)
Without reaching any final conclusions regarding the validity of a given belief, we can temporarily suspend it, and "act as if" it we didn't hold it, or as if it had no hold on us.

 

Skin in the Game (February 2012)
While having skin in the game allows us to do our best work, it also exposes us to risk. When we succeed it's all the more gratifying, and when we struggle, it's all the more disheartening

 

Taking the Plunge (Safety, Risk, Learning and Growth (February 2012)
The safer and more trusting we feel, the more risks we can take, the more we learn and grow. And safety and trust are even more useful when we push (and extend) their limits.

 

Tiny Gestures (and Emotional Bids) (February 2012)
Safety and trust are established over a series of interactions through countless tiny gestures that take the form of an emotional bid.

 

In Defense of Normal (A Coaching Manifesto) (February 2012)
For coaching and other interventions to achieve their goals they must be perceived as normal, but too often coaching and related services are perceived as special.

 

Dan Oestreich Interviews Me (March 2012)
My role as a coach is both necessary and modest. Necessary in the sense of helping clients know how to get started. And modest in the sense that the goal is for clients to be able to coach themselves after I leave.

 

The Work and The Job (May 2012)
We can change jobs readily; we change our work only with great effort. In the end our jobs are lines on a resume, while our work is our legacy, our epitaph.

 

I Am The 1% (Why Self-Coaching Matters) (May 2012)
Effective self-coaching is the key to meaningful growth and development, whether you're working with an executive coach like me or simply reading websites like this in your spare time.

 

Brass Rings and Railroad Tracks (On Self-Validation) (June 2012)
The challenge before us is to rely less upon extrinsic rewards for validation and instead put greater faith in our own intrinsic worth and validate ourselves.

 

Risk Management (The Importance of Speaking Up) (June 2012)
This defense of speaking up shouldn't be read as a simplistic manifesto to just "speak our minds." If we want to influence others and affect the outcome of the discussion, we must speak up skillfully.

 

Risk Management (The Importance of Speaking Up)

1. If it feels risky to say, it's important.

If it wasn't important, it wouldn't feel risky. And that sense of risk is a critical piece of data, a sign that the conversation is a meaningful one with larger implications.

2. If it feels risky to say, there are good reasons why it feels risky.

It feels risky because we sense that what we say will have an impact, although we can't be certain just what that impact will be. The content, the timing, our tone of voice, or even the fact that we're speaking at all--on this topic, at this moment, to this person--any one of these factors could be the source of the risk. 

3. If it feels risky to say, saying it will upset a defense routine.

Chris Argyris defines defense routines as "actions or policies that prevent individuals or segments of the organization from experiencing embarrassment or threat... [W]henever human beings are faced with any issue that contains significant embarrassment or threat, they act in ways that bypass, as best they can, the embarrassment or threat. In order for the bypass to work, it must be covered up." [p 25]. By speaking up and saying something risky, we will inevitably run up against and highlight a defense routine, thereby compounding the embarrassment or threat. Note that our own defense routines will also be implicated, not merely those of other people.

4. If it feels risky to say, saying it will carry a short-term cost.

Just as we can't know the precise impact of speaking up in advance, we can't know the precise short-term cost that we will have to pay for doing so. We do know that being perceived as a source of embarrassment or threat always carries a cost; we also know that calling attention to any efforts to avoid embarrassment or threat also carries a cost. We can estimate these costs after speaking up by measuring the length of the silence that follows our comments, although this is a rough calculation at best.

5. If it feels risky to say, NOT saying it will carry a long-term cost.

Nor can we know the precise long-term cost that we will have to pay for NOT speaking up. We do know that censoring ourselves is stressful and generates negative feelings. We also know that we will inevitably blame those negative feelings on those who "made us" censor ourselves. Finally, we know that censoring leads to distant and superficial relationships, that we crave intimacy and meaning, and if we can't find those qualities here we'll go elsewhere to find them. We tend to have a high tolerance for these long-term costs until we cross some undefined threshold, beyond which our capacity to bear them is rapidly exhausted.

6. Minimizing the short-term costs will increase the long-term costs.

7. Minimizing the long-term costs will increase the short-term costs.

The short-term and long-term costs are inextricably intertwined. However, we typically act as if this is not the case and prefer to assume that A) all costs can be avoided, B) any unavoidable costs can be indefinitely deferred, and C) any unavoidable, non-deferrable costs will be paid by someone else. This is magical thinking. 

8. Our success depends on balancing these costs by speaking up skillfully.

This defense of speaking up shouldn't be read as a simplistic manifesto to just "speak our minds." (See point #4.) We do need to speak up. (See point #5.) And yet if we want to achieve our goals, influence others, and affect the outcome of the discussion, we must speak up skillfully.

9. Speaking up skillfully is itself a skill that must be practiced in low-risk settings.

And it's a skill comprised of many complex sub-skills, such as the ability to...

• Sense and listen to our intuitive feeling of risk.
• Keep pushing ahead in the face of that risk without shutting down.
• Manage and make use of the emotions evoked by the discussion.
• Insert ourselves gracefully but assertively into the flow of the discussion.
• Speak with sufficient passion to be influential.
• Regulate that passion so as not to trigger distress in others.
• Monitor and respond to others' verbal, non-verbal and visual cues in the moment.
• Know when it's time to let go and move on.

Given this complexity, the only way to develop these skills is to jump in and practice them. This is a fundamental purpose of the courses I'm involved in at Stanford, such as the Leadership Labs or Interpersonal Dynamics (aka Touchy Feely): they provide a setting in which the (variable) level of risk adjusts with the group's (variable) level of skill and interest in having a risky dicussion. This is also a good reason to work with a coach--one of the most useful functions I fulfill for my clients is simply listening and responding as they talk through things that feel risky to say, and in many cases we actively role-play a situation to allow them to prepare for the real thing. In the absence of resources like a graduate program in management or a personal coach, it's critical to seek out settings and develop relationships in which we can practice the art (and it is an art) of speaking up. The key is feeling safe enough to step outside our comfort zone, because we only learn when we're willing to risk making a mistake.

10. It begins by recognizing when we're censoring ourselves because something feels risky to say.

This is always the starting point: An awareness that we have something to say, and yet we're not saying it. In some settings or in some relationships we self-censor so habitually that we don't even notice it anymore, and our task is to rouse ourselves from this slumber, recognize ourselves and our responses, and return to the top of this list.

---

Inspired by Chris Argyris' brilliant Overcoming Organizational Defenses:

All organizational defense routines are based on a logic that is powerful and that has profound impact on individuals and organizations.  The logic is to:

1. Craft messages that contain inconsistencies.

2. Act as if the messages are not inconsistent...

3. Make the ambiguity and inconsistency in the message undiscussable...

4. Make the undiscussability of the undiscussable also undiscussable. [p 27]

Photo by Jônatas Cunha. Yay Flickr and Creative Commons.