To help more of our readers with their crucial conversations, accountability discussions, and behavior change challenges, we introduced the Community Q&A column! Please share your answers to this reader’s question in the comments below. Dear Crucial Skills, Our high school uses a model that requires the student-athlete to lead discussions as issues arise with the coach of their respective sport. We currently have a situation where a student-athlete asks their coach what they can do to improve and get more playing time. The only recommendation the coach has given is: "Keep working hard. It will be fine." What can a student-athlete say to a coach who seems too general in their feedback? Sincerely, Stuck in the Middle

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Al Switzler is coauthor of four New York Times bestsellers, Crucial Conversations, Crucial Accountability, Influencer, and Change Anything. READ MORE   Dear Crucial Skills, A group of my family and friends is flying to a wonderful resort for a family wedding. Everyone usually gets along, but when we travel together, one family member can be the deal breaker! She can be demanding and outspoken. Because I am a retired psychiatric nurse, I am usually called upon to help settle situations with her. I’m happy to help, but this is my holiday too. What can I do so that I can also relax? Sincerely, Needing a Vacation  Dear Needing, Congratulations! You are obviously skilled at resolving interpersonal conflict, dicey situations, and family squabbles. That is a good skill set. Over the years, I’m sure you have been the reason that dinners, barbeques, holidays, and vacations have been salvaged and reasonably successful. So again, great work. Wouldn’t it be great if every family had a designated helper? Or two or three or four? I’m hinting at the solution. The question is, what do you need a vacation from? On the first level, you need a vacation from work, routine, and stress—like we all do. On the next level, you need a vacation from being the designated conflict resolver. The need, I’m thinking, was self-created. When you saw a conflict, I’m imagining that with good intentions, you alone stepped up and then stepped in to resolve the conflict. Or you waited until tempers exploded, gossip overflowed, or family members were packing, and then someone begged you to help. Again, you intervened. Don’t get me wrong, during these many cycles, you helped a lot, but you also sent a message that the people arguing, domineering, bickering, or brawling, weren’t responsible or didn’t need to worry about their actions. The super nurse would always save the day, the trip, or the event. If you’re like me, saving the day can bring some personal gratification. But you and I, and others like us (you know who you are) have created a cycle that is tiring and stressful—a cycle that we now need a vacation from. So with that introduction, I offer a little advice about how to create your own vacation. It begins by thinking about what gaps you need to consider and who you need to talk to. Scenario 1 Who you address: Everyone in the party. Gap: People need to resolve their own conflicts. In the past, you have always stepped in. Strategy: You don’t do anything—before, during, or after. You send a non-verbal message that it’s not your job. The outcome is predictable and not pretty. I don’t suggest this possibility. Scenario 2 Who you address: The demanding and outspoken family member. Gap: We need everyone to behave well, and historically she has been domineering and outspoken. Strategy: Talk to her privately about what would help the wedding go smoothly, and what could cause it not to. Ask her for her help. If she is agreeable, I’d ask if you could help by giving her an agreed upon, but very subtle signal, if she begins to behave in ways that might not help the other guests enjoy the wedding. This strategy is best if you and she have a friendly relationship. If not, I probably wouldn’t attempt it. You should note that the previous scenario is preventative. It helps create clear expectations and comes with agreed-upon, real-time subtle cues. The next scenario is also preventative but takes a very different approach—a coaching approach. Scenario 3 Who you address: Anyone who has had a falling out with the original demanding and outspoken family member. Gap: They need to resolve their own conflicts. In the past, they have let these issues go from bad to worse, or asked you to intervene. Strategy: Meet with them privately and tell them that you have intervened in the past and feel that you need a break. Tell them that they need to resolve the conflicts themselves. They can try to avoid conflict by being patient or avoiding behavior that eggs the other on. Or if there is a conflict, they can work it out themselves. Offer coaching help, but assure them that your time as the designated conflict-resolver is over. If they ask for coaching, share your ideas. I’m sure you have many helpful tips that work. (It might be too self-serving on my part if I suggest you recommend that they buy a copy of some good book on the subject.) In conclusion, I again offer you my congratulations for having the ability to resolve conflicts. It seems you have saved a lot of events from completely unraveling. As a result, you have helped create some dependencies that now need to be reevaluated. I think that the last two possibilities I’ve noted will help you be less central in preserving your family unity. I’m sure you have the skills to do them; to the extent that they work, you will have earned your vacation. Enjoy, Al

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Albert Bandura is the most cited living psychologist and the David Starr Jordan Professor Emeritus of Social Science in Psychology at Stanford University. READ MORE Following a school shooting in Ohio, Joseph Grenny shared his thoughts about the media’s effect on these events. Tragically, we witnessed yet another shooting in Santa Barbara, California this past week. Our mentor and friend, Albert Bandura—one of the greatest living and most influential psychologists of all time—continues the conversation by sharing his thoughts on the topic of violence in schools, based on years of social science research. The ideas and opinions expressed in this article are solely the opinions of the author and do not necessarily represent the official position of VitalSmarts. The following article was originally published April 4, 2012. Public-school shootings strike fear in the public at large. Such occurrences have three factors that make them especially frightening. The first is unpredictability. There is no forewarning when or where a shooting might occur. This makes every student a potential victim. The second feature is the gravity of the consequences. Shooting sprees leave in their wake many deaths and severely debilitated survivors. Easy access to semiautomatic handguns, magnified in killing power with large magazines, increase the risk and carnage of heavily-armed attacks. The third feature is uncontrollability—a perceived helplessness to protect oneself against such an attack should it occur. Over the years, I have studied the social modeling of unusual modes of violence. Airline hijacking is but one example of the contagion of violent means. Airline hijacking was unheard of in the United States until an airline was hijacked to Havana in 1961. Prior to that incident, Cubans were hijacking planes to Miami. These incidents were followed by a wave of hijackings, both in the United States and abroad, eventually including more than seventy nations. Hijackings were brought under control by an international agreement to suspend commercial flights to countries that permitted safe landings to terrorists. D. B. Cooper temporarily revived a declining phenomenon in the United States as others became inspired by his successful example. He devised a clever extortion technique in which he exchanged passengers for a parachute and a sizeable bundle of money. He then parachuted from the tail of a Boeing 207 to avoid entanglement on the tail or stabilizers. The newscasts provided a lot of details on how to do it. Within a few months there were eighteen hijackings on Boeing 207′s modeled on the parachute-extortion technique. They continued until a mechanical door lock was installed so that the rear exit could only be opened from the outside. Cooper became a folk hero for eluding the FBI, celebrated in song, on t-shirts, and in fan clubs. For reasons given earlier, public-school shootings are especially alarming. The media face a challenge on how to report violent acts without spreading what they are reporting. There are two ways they can minimize the contagion. The coverage should avoid providing details on how to do it. Nor should killings be widely publicized. The Columbine massacre, which received massive coverage, was followed by a series of copycat school killings. Other teenagers were arrested for plotting a school shooting on the anniversary of the Columbine massacre. They had the guns, ammunition, and plans on how to disable the school camera system. They modeled themselves after the two Columbine killers to the point of wearing black trench coats. Once an idea is planted it can be acted upon on some future occasion given sufficient psychosocial instigation to do so. For example, in his ranting video and manifesto, which was publicized by one of the networks, the Virginia Tech killer mentioned the two Columbine killers. In the electronic era, where anyone can post most anything online, mitigating detrimental contagion presents a more daunting challenge. As a society, we need to step up to and find a solution to this challenge. Albert Bandura

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Kerry Patterson is coauthor of four New York Times bestsellers, Crucial Conversations, Crucial Accountability, Influencer, and Change Anything. READ MORE Listen to Kerrying On via MP3 Listen to Kerrying On via iTunes "Call on me!" I quietly implored as I used my left arm to hold my right arm high above my desk. Miss McCloud, my first-grade teacher (and the most wonderful woman to ever walk the earth) had just asked the class to identify the color of the flower in her hand. I waved my arm wildly because I was confident in my answer. To be honest, I saw myself as a bit of a color savant. Plus, I really wanted Miss McCloud to admire me for knowing the correct answer so I could bask in the glow of her approving smile. Did I mention she was the most wonderful woman to ever walk the earth? At that time in my academic career, I had been in school long enough to have figured out the three axioms of education: (1) questions have right and wrong answers and it’s good to give the right answer, (2) it’s even more satisfying to give the right answer after someone else has given the wrong answer, and (3) it’s pure bliss to give the right answer after everyone else has given the wrong answer. Then Miss McCloud really piled on the praise. As the years passed, the axioms didn’t change much, but the nature of the questions did. By the time I was in college, the average query was far too complicated to be satisfied with a simple answer. I still raised my hand every chance I got in hopes of gaining attention, but rare was the day when others gave a flat-out wrong answer that I could easily correct in order to earn the professor’s special approval. So I had to learn a new skill. I had to learn how to spot flaws in others’ arguments. Sure, my classmates would offer answers that were mostly correct (or at least correct in principle), but if I applied myself to the task, I could always find a flaw, point it out, and grab the spotlight. When I moved on to grad school, I discovered that finding flaws in what others had to say wasn’t merely a rewarding hobby; it was academia’s prime directive. My classmates and I would sit in our Colosseum-shaped classrooms, listen to each other’s comments, eagerly spot a mistake, and then in gladiator fashion, swoop in and strike down the egregious logical lapse or factual faux pas. We were nit-picky, we were brutal, and we loved it. Later, when I became a team leader, I used my growing talent for detecting mistakes by practicing what is known as "management-by-exception." I wouldn’t say much to my direct reports when they were doing well—that would be disruptive. However, if they took a misstep, I’d speak up immediately so the problem wouldn’t escalate. Raising children was no different. My eyes were drawn to mistakes far more often than they were to success. Nobody walks by two children playing quietly and praises them for playing quietly. It’s inconceivable. If kids are playing quietly, you don’t even see them, let alone praise them. Once when I was working in Brazil, my "spot the error" routine was challenged. Dale Carnegie, in his classic How to Win Friends and Influence People, suggested that in order to be a decent human being, I ought to look feverishly for things done well and then offer up hearty approbation and lavish praise—not just once in a while, but all the time. If this wasn’t radical enough, Carnegie challenged me to praise a total stranger, just to see what it was like. Of course, to follow his advice, I would have to spot something praiseworthy. And if anything should be clear by now it’s that I hadn’t been trained to see "things gone right." For several days I looked for a praiseworthy accomplishment, but to no avail. Then I finally struck gold. I was riding a bus through the streets of a small town near Rio de Janeiro. Inside my head Dale Carnegie was screaming, "Look for something good!" It was really annoying. Suddenly, the young man taking money for the bus fare caught my eye. He had a dreadful job. He sold bus tickets by winding his way through a crowded, speeding bus. People crabbed at him, the driver ridiculed him, chickens pecked him, and then there was the ghastly smell of a crowd of passengers who believed that bathing was for sissies. In spite of all this, the young man was the picture of professionalism. I told him just that. I pointed out how well and quickly he made change. I mentioned that I admired his ability to keep his balance and remain polite and pleasant. And I meant it. Bingo. I had done it. I had followed Carnegie’s admonition about approbation. Now what? First came a pause. The guy was thinking about what I had just said. Finally the young fellow smiled widely and gave me a big hug. Tears were running down his cheeks. The bus employee introduced himself as Carlo Pereira. He explained that he had dropped out of school at age fifteen and worked as a ticket taker to help support his mother. I was the first person who had ever praised him, despite the fact that every single day for three years he had tried to do his best. Carlo then introduced me to everyone on the bus as his "American friend," and from that day forward wouldn’t accept my money if I happened to board his vehicle. Carlo’s devotion only grew. As I was walking down the street one day, he had the driver pull over and pick me up. Then Carlo told the driver to change routes so he could deliver me to the door of my next appointment—which, as you might guess, didn’t go down well with the other passengers. They were about to be transported blocks away from where they were originally hoping to go and were now threatening to cause Carlo bodily harm. Carlo didn’t care. I was the only customer he was concerned about. I was the only person who had ever complimented him. Naturally, I was stunned by Carlo’s reaction to the heartfelt but simple praise I had expressed. But I later I made sense of Carlo’s response. I learned that in annual corporate surveys, the number-one complaint of employees is always the same. Their leaders don’t recognize them for doing a good job. Since most bosses go through the spot-the-error educational system I went through and observe their own leaders routinely model management-by-exception, they also focus on problems, not success. In fact, generous praise isn’t even a small part of most leaders’ influence repertoire. Employees hate this lopsided treatment. They do their best work and look around to see if anyone notices, but nobody does. It turns out everyone is Carlo. Everyone is waiting for a heartfelt compliment. And now for the punch line. You can be the stranger on the bus. Maybe you already are. But if you aren’t, or aren’t as often as you’d like to be, now is your chance. Supplement your talent for spotting problems with the ability to see things going right. Then break years of tradition and say something. Remember, be hearty in your approbation and lavish in your praise. Not because you want a free ride for the rest of your life, but because Carlo is doing a wonderful job every single day—and he deserves to hear from you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Joseph Grenny is coauthor of four New York Times bestsellers, Crucial Conversations, Crucial Accountability, Influencer, and Change Anything. READ MORE Dear Crucial Skills, We have a person on our team who is not up to the job. This person is not respected in our team. No one wants to work with him. He sees himself as an expert, but is not. Additionally, he has a pompous attitude. He takes credit for others’ work and has been caught doing so by management. He has made our company look like fools to our vendors. His name is used as a threat to other areas in our company: "Be nice or you will have to work with Brian." Recently, our team has been asked to provide two members to a major work effort. Since Brian volunteered, no one else has volunteered. Several of us have voiced our concerns to our manager and his boss. We have provided specific examples of his incompetence. Our vendors don’t want to work with him and have also complained to management. We are out of options. Where do we go from here? Signed, Dead Weight  Dear Dead Weight, What a frustrating situation. It’s one thing when you suffer because of your own "accountability" failings; it adds a dollop of despair when the failing is out of your direct control. Here are my thoughts on both influencing and coping with the situation. Influencing. I’ll ask a few questions to help you consider whether you’ve exhausted your options for influencing the situation for the better. I’m going to assume for the sake of my response that your view of the situation is 100 percent accurate—there is broad consensus about this person’s incompetence and offensive behavior. Since you suggested this is a widely shared view I won’t press you, as I usually would, to explore whether your judgments are biased or amplified. 1. Have you held the right conversation? People who report having "spoken up" have often, in reality, stopped quite short of the right conversation. For example, they’ll pass the boss in the hallway, make an offhand comment and eye-roll about a colleague’s action, then pat themselves on the back for having been "candid." Let’s say your fundamental concern is a pattern of taking credit that is undermining trust in the team. And in this hallway conversation you said, "Boss, I heard Brian claimed he created the new inventory spreadsheet. In fact, Natasha did that." What you’ve just done is held the wrong conversation. You’ve shared a single instance of concern when the real issue is a broad pattern of concerns with wide ranging consequences. You have not held the "right" conversation. So I ask you, have you and others met with appropriate leaders and shared the full range of your facts, the full extent of consequences to vendors, customers, teammates, and the organization of the pattern of behavior you witness? If not, then there is more you can do. 2. Are you open to being influenced? Be sure as you hold conversations with management that your goal is dialogue, not monologue. After you share your full view, be prepared for them to have a different view. Your job is to put all of your "meaning" in the shared pool, then to invite them to do the same. They may have other facts, other conclusions, and other values. For example, your teammate may be making an extraordinary contribution that they see as offsetting the irritations you experience—different values. They may see the same behavior but judge it differently—different conclusions. Or they may see a very different behavior and performance than you do—different facts. You seem to have a pretty airtight case, but if you approach them as though you possess all truth, you’re less likely to get to dialogue. And the goal of dialogue is not just to change them but to change you too! Coping. If you’ve done all you are willing to do to influence appropriate accountability, you have two options: coping and codependence. I’ll define the coping option as the healthy one. It requires integrity, acceptance, compassion, and boundaries. Codependence, on the other hand, is the absence of integrity, acceptance, compassion, and boundaries. You know you’re codependent if this colleague triggers feelings of resentment, powerlessness, and blame. Integrity. First of all, healthy coping means you are being honest with yourself. You have done all you feel is appropriate to influence the situation. You know you aren’t being honest with yourself if you chronically blame others for your emotions and circumstances. Often my own irritation is more a function of my failure to speak up, than others’ failure to change. Acceptance. Next, get out of denial about the reality you are in. Accept that you have bosses that are imperfect. Accept that you have a colleague who appears insecure. Accept that—at least at present—there is nothing more you can do to influence it for the better. Other opportunities to influence change may present themselves. But at present, you’ve done all you can or should do. So focus on what you can influence to create a positive work environment for yourself. What turns irritation into misery is an unwillingness to accept reality. Compassion. Irritation becomes loathing when we hold a distorted view of those around us. When others create problems, we try to protect ourselves by putting distance between us and them. The unfortunate effect of this natural reaction is that we cut ourselves off from the broader set of observations that would help us see the other person as a human being rather than as a bundle of weaknesses. You can avoid this by finding ways to suspend your judgments and generate compassion. Boundaries. Finally, take responsibility for communicating and enforcing your expectations and boundaries with this individual. For example, if this person is unreliable, create boundaries that allow you to control your destiny. You might say, "I will need your input by Monday. If I don’t receive it by 8 a.m., I won’t be including it in my report." The difference between boundaries and passive-aggression is candor. Passive aggression—which might involve gossip, avoidance, or finger-pointing on your part—is a sign you are not coping in a healthy way, but are caught in a codependent relationship with this person. Healthy coping would mean you candidly explain the boundaries you are setting up to help you do quality work and have good quality of work life—while also remaining open to revising this relationship if you see signals of change. I sincerely hope something in what I’ve shared is useful to you in getting to a better place. Warmly, Joseph

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Ron McMillan is coauthor of four New York Times bestsellers, Crucial Conversations, Crucial Accountability, Influencer, and Change Anything. READ MORE Dear Crucial Skills, I am getting incredibly frustrated by the various meetings I attend. I feel they are increasingly ineffective. Information that is shared is not understood and later attendees claim they were not aware of matters we discussed. In my opinion, technology is to blame. During the meetings, people are frequently checking their e-mails and texts and responding to them instead of paying attention. Am I just a dinosaur unwilling to get with the times, or are others being rude? What can be done? Signed, Irritated  Dear Irritated, You are not a "dinosaur" that has to get with the times; you are one of an increasing number that see the inappropriate use of technology as a real problem. Meetings are less effective when people try to multitask. Many groups are unconsciously changing their norms and culture by not noticing or addressing the increased use of digital diversions during meetings. What was once seen as a rare interruption is now more often the norm. Unfortunately, you are a victim of Electronic Displays of Insensitivity, or EDIs. We recently conducted an online survey of 2,025 subjects about this very topic. Eighty-nine percent of respondents reported damaged relationships due to friends and family ignoring them as a result of the insensitive use of technology, and 90 percent agree you should not answer text messages or check social media profiles in public; yet 67 percent regularly see EDIs at the dinner table, 52 percent see them frequently during customer service interactions, and 63 percent report regularly seeing this abuse in meetings. Ninety percent of respondents report the situation is worse than a year ago. To make matters worse, two out of three respondents have no idea how to confront an EDI and one in three just ignore it. You can read the study on our blog. Perhaps there are occasions when someone should have his or her smartphone on and be available during a meeting. A staff meeting where a doctor needs to be reached in case of an emergency is an example; or a key manager that must be available during a team meeting for an important client or customer might also be appropriate. However, in the vast majority of cases we should use the "movie rule"—make your calls, texts, or e-mails before or after the meeting, not during the meeting. If there is an urgent need to be available during the meeting, get the group’s concurrence up front; even then, step out of the meeting to respond. My advice to you is this: as you begin a meeting, whether it’s your meeting or someone else’s, state the facts. Factually describe what has been happening. You might say, "In our meetings I’ve noticed that many of us check our phones for texts and e-mails during the meeting. Frequently, we are sending messages." Next, explore natural consequences. Share some of the consequences and problems you see resulting from people’s use of digital communication. Perhaps you could say something like, "I’ve noticed that while this is happening, those involved seem to check out of the meeting. Information is often missed and I believe ideas are not being shared that could help the team. I’ve come to this conclusion because people are often unaware of information discussed or key points that were made during meetings that they attended. I think, at best, we are undermining our effectiveness; at worst, we are doing damage to our stakeholders." Invite others to dialogue. Ask others to share their view. "Do you see this differently? Am I missing something?" Listen carefully to others’ views. In most cases, the reason people feel the need to constantly check messages is so they can stay in touch or not miss something of importance. Help your teammates understand it’s usually a trade-off between accomplishing the team’s purposes and individual convenience. The answer usually comes from being organized and disciplined. Propose a solution. Ask others if they would be willing to try an experiment. Propose the team use the "movie rule" for two meetings and see if things improve. Create clear expectations so everyone understands what the new guidelines are. Begin every meeting with a reminder. Review the team’s agreement about not using digital communication and ask if anyone needs an exception to the rule. Discuss any requests and agree together how to proceed. Review results. At the end of the meeting check to see how the attendees felt the meeting went. Did they notice any difference? Did they see these new guidelines as an improvement? Are they willing to do it again next time? Often, after two "digital-free" meetings, team members see the changes, recognize the improvements, and are willing to continue. If they have not become full converts, you can agree on compromises that still make things better, like turning the phones off when a critical issue must be discussed that requires everyone’s undivided attention. The key is not allowing EDIs to become "undiscussable." Respectfully talk about what is happening and how it can be improved. In this way, you develop an open culture of continually improving your team’s effectiveness and not defaulting to Electronic Displays of Insensitivity. I wish you the very best, Ron

Dear Crucial Skills, My department is in the midst of reorganization. While I am trying to remain positive, the change I am having the most difficulty with is my friend and coworker becoming my manager. We had an open and honest conversation about how we don’t want this to affect our friendship, but I can already see the dynamics of our relationship changing. I realize she has obligations as a manager, but how can I embrace her promotion as well as handle my emotions through this change? Sincerely, Concerned Dear Concerned, Thanks for asking an important question. Working with people who are close friends can be an important source of joy and satisfaction. However, it can also create awkward and uncomfortable situations, as you’ve explained. I’ll suggest some ways to maintain your friendship despite changes in your professional roles. Anticipate changes and master your stories. Your friend’s promotion will create real changes in your relationship, but these changes don’t need to undercut your friendship. The key to maintaining your friendship is to anticipate these changes, and to master the stories you tell yourself when you see them. I’ve outlined four friendship norms below that are likely to be altered, and have suggested positive ways to interpret them. Reciprocity: There is a norm that friends exchange favors and requests, in a way that evens out over the long run. Friends who ask too much undermine the friendship. But now your friend isn’t just your friend; she’s your manager. As a manager she will be making more requests of you, driving the normal reciprocity out of whack. As long as you anticipate and understand this change in balance, it doesn’t have to undermine your friendship. Watch out for the following story: "She is really testing our relationship. All she does is make demands." Interrogate this story by asking, "Is she asking me to do a favor for her as a friend, or is this a request she’s making as my manager?" Time: There is a norm that friends spend time together. Your friend’s promotion will make that more difficult. There is a branch of researchers who track people at work the way field biologists track animals they are studying. One of this group’s most common findings is that supervisors and managers work a lot more hours each week than nonsupervisory personnel. Your friend will have less time to socialize than before. Watch out for the following story: "She is ignoring me. She never calls." Interrogate this story by asking, "Is she ignoring me, or is she just a lot busier than before?" People: There is a norm that friends put friends first. They give preferential treatment to each other. Obviously, your friend now has to avoid any favoritism at work. She will have to treat you the same way she treats the others on your team—at least during work hours. Watch out for the following story: "She likes them better." Interrogate this story by asking, "Is this the kind of situation where she needs to avoid the appearance of favoritism?" Priorities: There is a norm that friends put each other’s priorities first. Again, this is an area where your friend has to be careful. If she puts your priorities first, she will be guilty of cronyism. Watch out for the following story: "She won’t listen to me. She doesn’t care about me." Interrogate this story by asking, "Is she responding to her boss’s priorities? Is she trying to balance several people’s priorities?" Take initiative. Don’t wait for your friend to take the first step. She might be too busy or too unsure. Invite her to join you after work or on weekends, when it won’t look like favoritism. Don’t ask for too much time; remember she is busier than ever before. And don’t expect her to initiate as much as she has in the past; her role will make that more difficult for her. The key is to remember that these changes are due to her new job, and not to changes in your friendship. Speak up. When you have a concern, don’t hold it inside or let it fester. Share your concerns, and keep your dialogue timely, frank, and friendly. Facts: Start with the facts, "I expected _________, and I observed ___________." For example, "I expected to see you at our usual place after work. I waited an hour, but never saw you." Tentatively share your story: Usually, it won’t be the facts themselves, but the conclusions or story you’ve told yourself that will be your main concern. Explain your concern, but keep it tentative. Remember, you could be wrong. "I’m wondering whether you’re wanting to stop our usual date." Ask for her point of view: Give your friend a chance to respond. Remember to make it safe for her. Give her the benefit of the doubt whenever you can. She’s under a lot of pressure, and needs you to be her friend now more than ever. "I’ll understand either way. I want to give you the support you need, and be a good friend." I hope these ideas can help you keep your friendship alive. We all need all the friends we can get! Sincerely, David

According to our study of 2,283 people, 96 percent of respondents say they have experienced workplace bullying. Eighty-nine percent of those bullies have been at it for more than a year; 54 percent for more than five years. In some cases, the survey found, bullies have continued in the same job for 30-plus years. Bullying can’t persist unless there is a complete breakdown in all four systems of accountability—personal accountability (the victim himself or herself), peer (others who witness the behavior), supervisory accountability (hierarchical leaders), and formal discipline (HR)—according to our research. It was surprising to see that in many organizations, not just one, but all four of these systems were terribly weak. As a result, the person most likely to remain in his or her job was the bully. Equally surprising was the widespread effect of bullying. It was rare that the alleged bully picked on a single target. In fact, 80 percent of respondents said the bully affected five or more people. So, how do you stop a bully? The study showed that the most effective deterrent is the skillful verbal intervention of the person being targeted. Next most effective is informal peer accountability. While in high-accountability organizations all four must be strong—personal, peer, boss and formal discipline—the study showed that the first breakdown is in personal accountability. When individuals and peers who experience or see bullying say nothing, the bully gets emboldened. And the more who join in the silence, the more evidence the bully has that the behavior is sustainable. Here are five tips for how to confront your workplace bully. 1. Reverse your thinking. Most of us suffer in silence because all we consider are the risks of speaking up. Those who speak up and hold others accountable tend to do the opposite. They think first about the risks of NOT speaking up. Changing the order of the risk assessment makes you much more likely to take action. 2. Facts first. Present your information, as if talking to a jury. Stick with the detailed facts. Be specific. Strip out any judgmental or provocative language. 3. Validate concerns. Often the bullying behavior was triggered by some legitimate concern. Be sure to validate that need while demonstrating an unwillingness to tolerate the way it was handled. 4. Share natural consequences. Let them know the consequences of behavior—to you, others, customers, projects, etc. 5. Hold boundaries. Let them know how you expect to be treated in the future. Ask for their commitment. And let them know what your next step will be if there is a recurrence. View the results of our study in the infographic below or click here to download a copy.

I couldn’t believe my good fortune. Preston Coventry, one of the more popular kids in the ninth grade, had invited me to the grand opening of his neighborhood association’s swimming pool. When the appointed day arrived, I hiked across town to the posh facility where I was greeted by a tall fence and a stern guard. After I waited a couple of minutes, Preston approached the gate, gave a quick nod, the guard pushed a button, and I was granted entrance. Preston and I spent the entire day playing water games and chasing girls with squirt guns. It was perfectly wonderful. I had no idea that such a life even existed. But then my thoughts turned to the long walk home, so I changed clothes and headed toward the exit. As the gate shut behind me, I turned around. Then I grabbed two of the metal bars, stuck my head between them, and smiled at Preston. (I was lobbying for an invitation to return.) Preston glanced back at me and abruptly stated, "You can’t come back." "What?" I managed to ask. "You’re not allowed to return," Preston repeated. "You don’t belong." "What do you mean ‘I don’t belong’?" I asked. "You don’t belong to the association. You’re a guest and are only allowed one visit a year. You’ve already had your turn." I managed a feeble "thank you," extracted my head from the gate and walked home. With each step, the words, "You don’t belong," rang painfully in my head. Then it hit me. Up until that moment, my friends and I had largely played in empty fields and open waterways. It was all free, so we were all equal. Now there was a pool, a fence, a gate, a guard, and rules. The "haves" played gleefully on one side while I trudged down the long dirt road that snaked into the heart of the valley of the have-nots. You might think this event turned me into an avid socialist, but it didn’t. I didn’t fault the wealthy for locking the gate. Who could blame them? But it did put a question into my fourteen-year-old brain: Where did I belong? I pondered that question for quite some time. Two decades passed until I eventually decided I belonged at a university. At least a part of me did. So, in 1980 when I finished graduate school, I accepted a faculty position. At last, I had found a home—a place where I belonged. Before I gave my first lecture, I decided that it was time to take precautions. Having been raised by parents who had lived through The Great Depression, and spoke often of its soon-to-arrive sequel, I began the semi-paranoid task of transforming my entire backyard into a massive vegetable garden. Let the Great Debacle arrive—I’d have zucchini! So, when the first day of the semester rolled around, instead of poring over my lecture notes as most faculty members did, I borrowed a truck from my neighbor and hauled pig manure to mix with my garden’s depleted soil. All morning long I hauled loads of "compost" from a nearby pig farm and flung the disgusting muck onto my garden bed. Then I frantically changed my clothes and hustled to campus to attend my very first faculty meeting. I couldn’t believe it. I—the poor kid who lived down the long dirt road—would be part of a faculty meeting where acclaimed educator Stephen R. Covey was scheduled to lead the discussion. He had been developing ideas about several key habits and was eager to discuss them with the rest of us. As Dr. Covey launched into his presentation, I couldn’t help but notice a horrible stench in the room. Soon everyone started to squint, cough, and look for the source of the smell. Then I noticed my socks. Uh oh. When I changed from my farm clothes into my sports coat and slacks, I had neglected to change my manure-tainted socks, which were now emitting a repugnant odor. It wasn’t long until my colleagues began to eyeball me—the apparent source of the smell. I fessed up. I told them about my garden, its depleted soil, the pig manure, and my socks. After a moment’s reflection, everyone laughed, I slid over to a far corner of the room, Steve moved on to turning ends into beginnings, and I thanked my lucky stars for having escaped untarnished. But then Preston Coventry’s jarring voice hit me. The words, "You don’t belong!" reverberated through my insecure soul. One look at the scholars in the room and I was certain that none of them had ever flung pig manure and then carried the stench to a faculty meeting. These folks were polished and sophisticated. They had lovely homes, pools (probably locked), and pedigrees. They belonged. I didn’t. It took only a glance to see that. Later that evening while visiting with my mother, I told her about the stinky-sock debacle and admitted that I didn’t believe I belonged at a university. She wouldn’t have it. "The idea of belonging to anything is just plain silly," Mom argued. "Sure, clubs set rules about who they let in, but in things that matter, belonging is irrelevant. It’s not how you measure up to others’ standards that matters; it’s how you feel about yourself—and that comes from being comfortable with what you do." "Yeah, but look what I’ve done," I responded. "I went to a faculty meeting reeking of pig manure. Then to make matters worse, I admitted to the mistake in public." "Precisely," my mother said, "And that makes you unassuming, not unworthy." "No, that makes me a hick, and a stupid one to boot." I continued to put up a fuss, but eventually decided that I would follow Mom’s advice and work on being satisfied with what I had done and who I had become, rather than where others thought I belonged—or worse still, where I thought they thought I belonged. For the most part, this strategy has served me well, but I’d be lying if I said I’m always comfortable in my skin. There are days when I feel as if I’m that kid standing outside that swimming pool, desperately gripping the bars, and peering into a world that doesn’t want me. And then on those odd occasions when I happen to gain entry, I’m haunted by the feeling that I’m going to be asked to leave. But then I think of the pig manure and the wonderful crops it nurtured. It helped grow a cabbage so large it didn’t fit into a bushel basket. The beets tasted like candy. My kids still talk about the sweet corn. It was heavenly. But best of all, the pig droppings came with a lesson. If you want to be content in life, you have to be able to fling manure without looking over your shoulder to see who approves. If you can’t do that, life is a long, lonely stretch. People will continue to suggest that you don’t belong, and you’ll believe them. So give up the silly notion of belonging and think of who you are and the wonderful things you do. That’s where you’ll find satisfaction. Oh yes, and don’t forget to change your socks.

During the month of July, we publish "best of" content. The following article was first published on February 2, 2005. Dear Crucial Skills, Whenever my husband and I get into a conversation that he doesn’t want to continue, he will resort to a comment like, "You always have to have things your way," and will refuse to continue the conversation. This approach leaves issues unresolved and interferes with other areas of our life. How can I get around this? Signed, Unresolved Dear Unresolved, When we teach Crucial Conversations Training and ask for the kinds of challenges people face, this issue comes up in several ways. Some talk about being married to a mime. Others comment that their spouse seems to have a completely different idea about the number of words needed to discuss a tough topic—particularly at home. Still others share that their spouse will talk about everything and anything except what really matters—then retreat into silence. This issue is so common and so tough that we’ve addressed it at some length in both "crucial" books in the "Yeah, But . . ." chapters. In Crucial Conversations, it’s "Yeah, but my spouse is the person you talked about earlier. You know, I try to hold a meaningful discussion, I try to work through an important issue, and he or she simply withdraws. What can I do?" In Crucial Accountability, there are two: "Yeah, but my spouse never wants to talk about anything. I experience a problem with him, and he tells me not to worry or not now or I’ve got it all wrong, or he just turns back to the TV and says he’ll get back to me later. But he never does." Or, "Yeah, but I keep bringing up the same problems over and over, and my spouse and children continue in their old ways. It makes me feel like a nag, and I don’t want to be a nag." There are more detailed answers in the books than I can provide here, but let me tackle a couple of points. First and foremost, we need to Start with Heart. Before you open your mouth, ask yourself the questions that will help you get to Mutual Purpose. "What do I REALLY want for me? For the other person? For our relationship?" This question helps you fine-tune your motive and helps move your intentions from possibly self-centered and short-term to mutual and long-term. This also helps you make sure that when you share what you’re thinking, you are starting from a safe place rather than leading with emotions and accusations. The key, however, to solving this issue is getting to the right conversation. In Crucial Accountability, we describe a process to help you choose between CPR—or Content, Pattern, and Relationship discussions. In stressful relationships, talking about content is not going to work. Content issues could include not cleaning the garage, not coming home on time, spending too much money, etc. What you’ve described in your question is clearly pattern and relationship. The problem is a pattern. It is recurring. It’s affecting your relationship in many ways. So I’d suggest you talk about talking. It might sound something like this: "Could we talk about how we communicate? I’d like to understand how we each view how we speak to each other and what we both want. Last time we talked, you said that I was trying to get my way, and I don’t want to come across that way. I want to talk things out so we both agree if we can. Would that be okay?" If he agrees, he might ask, "Okay, where do we start?" You might then respond, "I’ve noticed that when an issue is important, we start talking and if we see things differently, you cut off the conversation just when I want to talk more. Can you help me understand what’s going on?" Of course, there is no one set of scripts that work. The important part is that you have put the right issues on the table—pattern and relationship—and you are sincerely interested in understanding where your spouse is coming from. If you make it safe enough, you can also be candid in what you observe about your spouse’s behaviors and how those impact you. This is give and take. This is dialogue. Crucial conversations are interactions about high-stakes, emotional issues that two people see differently. Remember that you can talk them out, or act them out. The challenge here is to talk about the right issue. Best wishes, Al