Good coaching feels like a trip in a tandem kayak, or a belay on a tough climb or even a trapeze catch–a meaningful experience shared with a trusted partner. But bad coaching feels like hammering screws–a solo effort on the part of the coach that makes a lot of noise but accomplishes very little.
I’ve conducted thousands of successful coaching sessions over the years, but I’ve done my share of hammering screws as well, and I’ve realized that bad coaching typically results from underlying needs of my own, particularly a need for the client to experience progress or to achieve some sense of closure. This may sound paradoxical. Don’t coaches want clients to experience progress? Isn’t closure a desirable outcome of the coaching process? Generally, yes–but there are some important caveats.
My interest in my clients’ progress is usually aligned with my desire to be an effective coach. And my interest in achieving closure–whether that means resolving a particular issue or ultimately concluding the coaching relationship–usually supports both my clients’ progress and, more importantly, their independence and self-sufficiency. To be clear, while these interests primarily serve my clients’ needs, they also allow me to feel a sense of fulfillment and efficacy, and I believe that having this personal stake in the coaching process actually makes me a better coach because I’m not a disinterested bystander–I care deeply about my clients, and I’m invested in their success.
But it’s important for me to monitor these interests and to gauge their intensity; if I’m feeling a sense of urgency around them, it may be that my need to be seen as effective or another personal motive has kicked into overdrive, and it’s masquerading as support for my client. The telltale evidence that this dynamic is at play is my client sensing that I’m pushing a solution on them, relying on a single framework or strategy in my approach, or simply rushing toward closure before they’re ready to move on.
It’s worth noting that bad coaching can happen within the context of a good coaching relationship–or even in the middle of an otherwise good coaching conversation. I’ve been privileged to work with people who trust me enough to tell me when we’ve gotten off-track or when our coaching relationship no longer feels like a true partnership. This feedback has been essential in allowing me to understand these dynamics and to see how my legitimate needs as a person usually support my effectiveness as a coach–and occasionally get in the way of my client’s needs and the coaching process.
Updated July 2018.
Thanks to Cathy Carmody and Coert Visser, who prompted me to dig deeper and mine a couple of tweets for some more meaningful learning.
Photo by Justin Baeder.
7 Responses
Hi Ed. Who is your headline writer? I think this title is brilliant. Also I appreciate your honesty in acknowledging that it is your need to pick up the hammer and try to whack in an obvious (to you) solution. Finally, I think you raise an interesting point about whether it is possible to master one’s tendency to want to take over the problem solving process. Perhaps the mastery comes in being able to take feedback and get back in partnership mode?? Cheers, Rick
Hi Ed, once again great advice. I’m not a coach, nor have I ever been coached, but it’s something I am interested in. thanks, Bret
Thanks, Rick–I agree that he’s been doing a pretty good job lately 🙂
And you make a great point on mastery; I don’t think we ever “master” these dynamics, but I’ve tried to 1) recognize circumstances in which drives that are usually helpful can become counterproductive, 2) increase my in-the-moment awareness of when those drives are activated, 3) expand the range of options I typically pursue when they are activated, 4) get over any embarrassment I might feel when I trip myself up like this–I’m a good coach, not a perfect one, and 5) regularly elicit feedback from clients–both positive and negative–and insure they know how much it matters to me.
Thanks, Bret–my guess is that coaching would feel very consistent with your approach to teaching and developing others.
Ed — I love the way you exemplify the process of reflective learning and capacity for self-confrontation. By living the process and being open about it in an area where any good coach might be a little defensive, you model a method of being and relating with your lucky clients and colleagues. The vulnerability is appealing but, for me, that’s not so much the value as fostering a norm for personal growth within relationship. The gift is that you actually show the way with a sense of grace and perspective, not just talk about it.
Thanks so much, Dan–that means a lot to me. I do try to walk my talk, particularly when it comes to owning up to my mistakes and shortcomings. I think this helps me learn from them more readily, I hope it makes me a more accessible person and a more effective coach, and I know it makes life less stressful. It certainly takes consistent effort; the embarrassment and even shame that kick in when I stumble as a coach are powerful emotions, and I have to work to loosen their hold on me. But I do feel I’ve made some meaningful progress on that front over the years. Thanks again.
Ed,
Brilliant analogy and I have experienced what you describe. In the future, when I am hammering a screw and am tempted to think the client is amiss, I will remind myself the client is exactly what they should be (the screw) and I can choose to be something else than a hammer.
Thanks, Alan–it’s good to know that I have company 🙂
And I find the hammer metaphor helpful because there are so many ways to interpret it. Another perspective that’s useful for me is to assess all the coaching “tools” I might be employing in a given conversation and ask whether they’re working in harmony and building on each other–or whether I’m trying to force them together, i.e. hammering screws.