When trying to commit to seek mutual purpose, what if the other person refuses to open up and share his or her meaning to find and/or create a mutual purpose? It can be difficult when the other person seems to be holding back what it is they really want. There are a couple of things you might keep in mind when dealing with this situation. Sometimes the refusal to open up is a sign others are not feeling safe. One of the first things you may want to do is ask yourself a couple of "heart questions": A) Do you really care about what they care about? B) Do you really care about them? If you can’t answer in the affirmative for both, you may merely be going through the motions of seeking mutual purpose having failed to start with heart. Next, keep in mind that you can only do your best to create conditions that make it safe for them to open up. You cannot force them to open up. You cannot dialogue with someone who doesn’t really want to dialogue, but you can demonstrate your willingness to solve the problem by your commitment. Remember that the first step in finding mutual purpose is to "commit to seek." By definition, "seeking" doesn’t mean this is going to be easy or quick. Demonstrating with heart and actions that you are willing to commit to the time needed for the search can show your level of commitment to the process. I would also spend time on step number two—recognize the purpose behind the strategy. Make the needed effort here to make it clear to others that you really want to better understand what it is they want and why they want it. This is more than merely asking "What do you want?" Take time to dig a little deeper here so that they feel you really want an understanding of their purpose. If things still are not moving in a direction you feel is productive—if others seem guarded and not willing to open up—you might ask them about the issue from your perspective. You might say: "I’m not sure that I have a better understanding of what you want and why you want it. I could be wrong, but it seems like you may be holding back. Am I doing something that is making it difficult for you to be open and honest with me? If so I would really like to know." Since this is a process of seeking, end well by stating that you are willing to continue this search. If the other person would like to think about this a little more and perhaps get back together at some later time, it would be okay with you. This demonstrates your commitment to finding something that will work for both of you.

During the month of July, we publish "best of" content. The following article was first published on August 3, 2005. Dear Crucial Skills, Our city has been struggling with a diversity initiative, and we’ve been going through the Crucial Conversations Training to help address issues that keep our employees from working together because of cultural misunderstandings. It’s been interesting to see people’s reactions to the terms "silence" and "violence" used in the training. It seems to be a matter of interpretation. For example, several people from different ethnic backgrounds say that being expressive and emotional is part of their cultural communication style-and yet people from other cultural backgrounds see this strong way of advocating as "violence" in crucial conversations language. How do you address these differences in the way people define "silence" and "violence" when conversations are happening between people of different cultures? Signed, Culture Clash Dear Culture Clash, You raise a very important question—and one we’ve thought a great deal about since we’ve worked with these skills literally everywhere from Israeli software companies and Kenyan slums to Malaysian factories and Wall Street investment banks. Here is our considered response. Your twin responsibilities in a crucial conversation are: 1) to maintain safety; and 2) to engage in and encourage the free flow of meaning. All of the skills in Crucial Conversations are designed to accomplish these two tasks. Maintaining safety is hard enough when two people come from the same culture. It becomes even more complex when people come from a different culture. The reason is that people from different cultures tell themselves different "stories" about the behavior of others. Using active hand gestures while I speak might be seen as passion in one culture and coercion in another. For example, I once worked with an Israeli software company who was acting as a vendor to an American telecom company. There were frequent crucial conversations breakdowns as a consequence of the widely different communication patterns used by the Israelis and the Americans. The Israelis were comfortable with relatively louder volume and more vigorous body language. The Midwestern Americans were intimidated and offended by this behavior. The story they told themselves about the behavior was that it was disrespectful and coercive. How do you solve this problem? First, by holding the right conversation. Don’t just talk about "content" (key issues you need to address). If you are aware that there could be cultural differences, you should pause occasionally and talk about those differences. Talk about your differing patterns of behavior. Ask people how you are coming across. Encourage them to give you feedback about behaviors that might make it difficult for them to engage with you around crucial topics. Ask them what various patterns of behavior on their part mean to them. Second, when you are digging into crucial conversations about content, watch for signs that the conversation is not working. Watch for marked changes in others’ behavior or facial expressions. If, for example, they are usually expressive but become silent, you can bet that safety might be at risk. They may be interpreting your behavior as violent when you intend it as something much different. Or, if they become louder than usual, again this is a sign that safety could be at risk and you should step out of the conversation and talk about the conversation. Again, ask for feedback about how you’re coming across—either now or later when it might be safer. Working across cultures requires the same two sets of regular conversations that working to build any sort of strong relationship requires. The first is healthy crucial conversations about key issues (content or relationship). The second is regular crucial conversations about how to correctly interpret your differing behaviors (pattern). The reason for the first kind of conversation is obvious. But the need for the second is less so. Many people fail to help their colleagues or loved ones correctly interpret the intent and meaning behind their own behaviors. They leave them open to be interpreted in the worst way possible—often with disastrous consequences. If you want to work well across cultures, don’t just talk issues, talk behaviors—what they mean and don’t mean—and what works for the both of you. Thanks for raising an important issue. And best wishes in the vital work you’re doing to bring greater unity and productivity into our wonderfully diverse world. Joseph

http://static.vitalsmartscdn.com/kerryingon/KerryingOn_200601.mp3 Somewhere in deepest rural America, a man driving along a dark, lonely stretch of country road blew his right front tire. After pulling over and scrambling out of his BMW, he walked to the trunk, opened it, and noted with disgust that his jack was missing. After ten minutes of nothing but frog and cricket noises, our traveler concluded that he was on his own. It was then that he noticed that off to the west, across a long stretch of open ground, was a lone farmhouse. It was late, but there was a light on in the front window and surely the farmer had a jack. After squeezing through a break in a barbed-wire fence and nearly tearing his silk suit coat, the fellow started his trek across the field. "People in this part of the country need to pull together just to survive the elements," he imagined. "The farmer will be glad to lend me a hand." Five minutes of tripping, trudging, and twitching later, our stranded driver caught a moonlit reflection of himself in a muddy puddle. "Dang, I look like a city slicker. That’s not good. Farmers don’t take much of a shine to ‘city folk.’" As our traveler continued his quest for a jack he thought to himself, "There’s a chance the farmer won’t even answer the door. With all the murders they show on TV nowadays, who could blame him? Besides, in every slasher movie it’s always guys like me in fancy cars and expensive suits who the audience is made to hate." As the traveler drew closer to the farmer’s door his concerns escalated. "I’ve walked all the way across this huge field and the farmer will probably open up the door a few inches, listen to my request, and then tell me that he ain’t got no stinkin’ jack. And then he’ll slam the door in my face! What’s wrong with these people anyway?" At last our desperate traveler stood at the door. He figured that he might as well knock since he’d come all that way—so he did. The door opened and the farmer asked: "May I help you?" "You can keep your stupid jack!" the traveler shouted, and then spun on his heel and trudged back to his car. I tell this anecdote because it demonstrates the problem we often create when we invent stories to help us first understand and then prepare for the world. Sometimes the stories we tell are accurate and sometimes they aren’t. The problem, unfortunately, doesn’t lie completely in the accuracy of the story; it often lies in the act of storytelling itself. As handy a tool as storytelling is for making sense of the world, conjuring up tales can cause a great deal of harm. Telling ourselves stories often keeps us from seeking the truth. It can damage relationships. And if done with enough frequency and bile, it can kill us. In case you think I’m overreacting to the possible dangers of telling ourselves stories, allow me to point out that the phenomenon that has taken center stage of the law and drug enforcement arenas. We learned this in an interview with the head of a very successful rehab program in San Francisco. She told us the following. When candidates are screened to see if they’ll be admitted to the program, she asks them to share how they got to where they are. If a candidate explains that his mother was a crack addict, the director remarks that perhaps his mother should be entering the program. If the candidate counters with the fact that his dad beat him almost daily, she explains that surely his dad should be the one being interviewed. The leader of this successful program isn’t trying to be glib or clever as she continues to nudge the candidate every time he blames someone else for his horrible life. She’s merely trying to learn how willingly the person will tell a new story—one where the person takes most of the responsibility. "As long as people going through rehab are able to blame others for their problems," she explains, "they have no need to change. Their stories keep them trapped in the current circumstances. You can’t change people until they change their story." Given the power that stories have over our lives, it can be helpful to know how we create them. Our friend in search of a jack serves as a perfect example. As he prepared for an encounter with a stranger, he steeled himself against the worst possible case. You can take the edge off disappointment if you anticipate it. I learned this lesson at a young age. My brother would tell me that we would be going to the drive-in movie that evening, and I’d go crazy with excitement. When I brought it up with my mom later, she would tell me that we weren’t going to the movie—and where did I come up with such a crazy notion anyway? Disappointment would penetrate my entire being. My brother, on the other hand, would laugh and laugh. He pulled this trick about a dozen times until I learned: Don’t accept good news on its face. Be skeptical. Anticipate bad news. When I went to work I learned the corporate parallel. When others do something ambiguous, suspect the worst motive. And later when it came to relationships, I learned: Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve. To avoid damage to our psyches we become good at telling a whole host of stories. Some are aimed at preventing disappointment while others are aimed at keeping our image intact. For example, if we get into a heated argument and spin out of control, we let ourselves off the hook by explaining that we were innocent victims. We didn’t do anything wrong—oh no, we were on our best behavior when the other person lashed out at us. When we are caught behaving in rude, insulting ways, we tell a different story. We take the heat off ourselves by vilifying others. Consider the limit case. Career criminals often justify their actions by suggesting that the people they steal from don’t deserve the money. They’re selfish tax-evaders who probably stole the money in the first place. We create villainous stories so we can treat others poorly without feeling guilty about our own actions. To quote a supervisor I once interviewed, "Of course I shout threats at my employees. They’re animals. They only listen to threats." Finally, when we’ve stood by and done nothing to rectify a wrong, when our inaction puts our integrity into question, we tell helpless stories. "What? You want me to disagree with the boss in the meeting—and get fired? Not me. Nobody can disagree and live to tell about it." Stories that suggest that no effort will be enough help us transform gutless inaction into political savvy. We tell ourselves, "I wasn’t afraid, I just wasn’t naïve." And now for an interesting twist. If we tell the stories with enough creativity and conviction, the part of our brain that prepares for blunt trauma actually believes our story. Even though we’ve only imagined that something bad is about to happen, or that the other person is a villain and deserves whatever we give them, we actually pump adrenaline into our blood stream and prepare for the threat as if it were real. Under the influence of adrenaline, good things happen if we run into, say, a saber-toothed tiger. Blood is diverted from our less-important organs such as the brain to the muscles that will help us run and jump and hit and otherwise engage in fight or flight activities—against the tiger. Bad things happen to us if we run into, say, our spouse or coworker where neither fight nor flight is required. Our brain, running low on fuel, goes into backup mode and mostly shuts down the cerebral cortex—or the part we use for higher-level thinking. Now our brain draws more heavily from the lower half—also known as the "reptilian brain." So when it matters the most, we come up with stupid ideas. "He’s resisting my recommendation. Maybe if I raise my voice, become belligerent, and overstate my point he’ll come around to my way of thinking." It gets worse. Other bad things happen to us when we tell stories, believe them, and then prepare for blunt trauma. Not only do we say stupid things, but our body also produces cholesterol to thicken our blood in case we start to bleed. I learned this while listening to a medical radio show, driving to work, and drinking—and I’m not making this up—I was actually consuming a disgusting tofu-based breakfast beverage in an effort to lower my cholesterol. The very news that my body can produce its own cholesterol—despite the fact that I was eating tofu and soy supplements—ticked me off, started my adrenaline flowing and, I’m pretty sure, kick-started my own cholesterol production on the spot. So what’s a person to do? Rather than always preparing for the worst or imagining the worst of others—maybe we should keep an open mind. Instead of vilifying others, we simply wonder what’s going on. We’re not sure what’s going to happen, so let’s find out. This does two things: It propels us to discover the truth, and it keeps us from angrily charging in with an accusation. So, replace your ability to conjure up stories with a genuine desire to learn the truth. If you do so, you’ll take charge of your emotions, improve your health, and bolster your relationships. It may not be as fun as thinking horrible thoughts, but it’s a lot more effective. And who knows—as you open yourself up to the truth, you might just be able to find a jack, change your tire, and get back on the road.

Dear Crucial Skills, I am a middle-aged, part-time worker by choice and work very hard while I am at work. I have a great attendance record, I’m dedicated, meticulous, and take initiative without drawing attention to myself. I try to do everything I can to make my coworkers’ jobs easier. Per my supervisor and coworkers, I am a "great team player." However, I am still bothered by some comments along the lines of "she’s just a part-timer," and I don’t get the same treatment as full-time employees regarding things like perks, raises, etc. What can I do to help my employer and coworkers understand that I am part of the team and contribute just as much as they do without causing hard feelings? Signed, Part-time Worker Dear Part-time, There are three different levels of crucial conversations that can be addressed. They are: content (a specific problem or issue), pattern (a repeating problem), and relationship (the way we work together, or the way we relate to each other). Issues of respect, like the one you raise, are relationship issues. Instead of solving a single problem, you want to change aspects of your relationship with your coworkers. These are especially difficult conversations that often involve roles, responsibilities, emotions, and perspectives. The key to your situation seems to be developing a mutual understanding with your coworkers about your role and contribution. I would recommend starting with your supervisor. Begin a conversation with your supervisor by factually describing the things that are happening and being said which you believe show disrespect. Share your example, then tentatively share your interpretation of the behavior. Finally, ask for your supervisor’s view so you can understand his or her perception. For example, you might begin as follows. "Yesterday Robert, referring to me, said, ‘She’s just a part-timer.’ He seemed to be implying that I wasn’t really a member of the team. Is that how you see things? I’d really like to understand your view." Now is the time to listen. Perhaps your boss agrees with your coworker. This would be important information for you to know. Perhaps your boss is unaware of how you feel and why. Knowing the boss’s perspective is critical to knowing what task awaits you. If the boss is surprised, you may want to share additional examples of disrespect or unequal treatment such as perks and raises. If the boss knows what’s happening and believes that your role is second class or that you are a "quasi" team member, you may want to renegotiate your role. Explain how you have contributed, how you want to contribute, and how you want to be treated. Change usually begins with awareness. As you both become aware of each other’s views and assumptions, misunderstandings can be addressed, attitudes can be changed, and expectations can be negotiated. Once you and your supervisor are in agreement, you are in a good position to talk to your coworkers and have your supervisor support you. Now, use the same approach to address the issue with your coworkers. This time, compare what’s happening with what you expect or desire to happen. You might say, "Robert, yesterday you said I was just a ‘part-timer’ as if you don’t think I’m really a member of the team. I would prefer to be treated as a team member who adds value and helps the team be successful. How do you see me as a member of the team?" You now have a chance to understand your coworker’s view and influence it, either through creating mutual understanding and setting new expectations, or by changing perception through consistent performance over time. Never let the way others treat you be an undiscussable. Skillfully and respectfully address the issues in your relationships and create better relationships and better results. Best wishes, Ron

During the month of July, we publish "best of" content. The following article was first published on September 20, 2009. Dear Crucial Skills, My supervisor often gives me leadership responsibility for projects involving multiple departments. However, my position is not viewed as one of authority. As a result, I struggle to get results from others when I ask them to do something. When I present my lack of progress and ask for assistance, I’m told I need to stop blaming others for my lack of results. Since I have been trained to teach Crucial Conversations, my supervisor assumes I should be able to convince others to shift their priorities. Unfortunately, people outside of my department are not able to make my request their top priority, no matter how many Crucial Conversations skills I employ. How do I get my supervisor to see that I need her support, without making her think I am blaming others? I am at the end of my rope! Without Support Dear Without, You are not alone. When I was teaching at Stanford’s Advanced Project Management Program this was the participants’ most frequent concern. You’re given lots of accountability, but no authority, and you’re expected to use your skills and charm to get it all done. It doesn’t work that way, does it? Crucial Conversations and Crucial Accountability focus on dialogue skills—the skills required to reach shared understanding and commitment. These skills would be all you needed if the lack of cooperation you were experiencing was the exception, not the rule. However, it sounds as if it’s the rule, and that tells me you need to change the rules. You need a structural solution—a solution that involves all Six Sources of Influence. The situation you describe calls for a project-management system, one that people buy into and have the skills to use. Then it requires holding people accountable to the system—not just to your individual projects. I will walk through the influence model found in Influencer to help you solve this problem. The process starts with identifying measurable results you want to achieve; next, identify a few key behaviors that, if changed, will bring about those results; and finally, outline strategies to accomplish your vital behaviors using six different sources of influence. Measurable Results. Your goal is to ensure project schedules, budgets, and specs are met. It sounds as if your projects have to compete with employees’ other tasks. That’s to be expected. The problem occurs when your projects never get a high enough priority, or when the priority gets bumped. Instead of focusing on your project, focus on the overall project-planning process. Your goal is to get people to commit to a fair process—one that meets their objectives as well as yours. Then your challenge is to help everyone stick to the process. Become a champion for the process, not just your project. This change will create greater Mutual Purpose. Vital Behaviors. The vital behaviors you’ll want to focus on are: 1. Prioritizing all of your project’s tasks against people’s competing tasks. 2. Establishing that people who complete the tasks have input into the project plan and sign up to deliver on realistic schedules, budgets, and specs. 3. Ensuring that when people have reason to believe they could miss a schedule, budget, or spec, they will immediately update the team on the problem. The Six Sources of Influence. The sources of influence and specific strategies you’ll need to target are: Source 1 - Personal Motivation: The people you rely on are feeling a lot of pain. Their plates are too full. They feel as if they have five bosses and they’re constantly being blindsided with new, unexpected demands. Instead of turning up the heat regarding your projects, get their buy-in to a more consistent process—one that has realistic priorities and plans. Source 2 - Personal Ability: You and your colleagues may have to learn basic project-management principles. Look for resources that are already available within your firm, such as a project-management specialist. Once you have a project-management system in place, you’ll find your Crucial Conversations skills will become more powerful. Sources 3 & 4 - Social Motivation & Ability: The most important social support you need is from your manager and the managers your resource people report to. They need to fully support a more robust project-management system. Ease their concerns that the priority-setting process may take more time and is less flexible by demonstrating how results are delivered far more reliably. Source 5 - Structural Motivation: I bet the employees you count on are rewarded for achieving results within their own departments, and not for achieving your goals. Goals that require cross-functional teamwork are often shortchanged. Work with your manager and the resource managers to find ways to reward people for executing on their plans and for keeping to the project-planning process you’ve outlined. Even tiny changes to these reward systems will send a powerful message that managers are serious. Source 6 - Structural Ability: This entire approach relies on implementing a project-management structure. Check to see if you already have one that’s gone dormant. Check to see if your organization has a Project Management Office that can help you re-invigorate your project structure. Here are some basic structural elements I’d want to see: a priority-setting process that involves the right stakeholders; a project planning process that results in realistic schedules, budgets, and specs; project status meetings that keep the projects on track; a measurement system that provides ongoing feedback on how well people are keeping to their project plans. Report Back to your Manager. Meet with your manager and frame the larger issue. It isn’t just about executing your projects; it’s about executing any and all projects. Bring in whatever facts you can to back up your case. If you don’t have data on missed deadlines, budget overruns, and failures to meet specs, then bring in examples of the problems. For example: people have unclear priorities, priorities that constantly change, objectives that aren’t realistic, or no clear project plans to follow. Explain that solving this larger problem is the best way to solve your specific problem. Best of luck in influencing your organization, David

The U.S. Women’s Ski Jump team made their Olympic debut in the 2014 Socchi Games. While they did not medal (the three members of the team placed 10th, 15th, and 21st), they had thousands of fans cheering them on, including the youngest member of the U.S. Women’s Ski team—twelve-year-old Zia Terry. Two years ago at the tender age of ten years old, Zia was made an honorary member of the U.S. Women’s Ski team. How did this precocious youngster ascend to such a lofty honor? She jumped. Literally. Zia became a YouTube sensation thanks to her GoPro helmet-mounted camera recording her first ski jump on the forty-meter hill. The video includes an inspiring one minute and forty-nine seconds of Zia’s charming, courageous self-dialogue as she prepares to jump. It has received over 2 million views on YouTube, 1.3 million of which came within the first ten days of the video being posted. When asked about her interest in ski jumping, Zia referenced the U.S. Women’s Ski Team website, saying, "I’ve been following my dream, like I saw on one of their web pages. It said, ‘follow your dream, not mine.’ That’s what I’ve been doing. David Maxfield, who lives not far from Zia in Park City, UT, saw this engaging example of a brave young girl trying something new and knew we needed to include it in the new version of our Influencer Training course—Influencer 2.0. You’ll find her video in Source 1, illustrating the strategy of increasing personal motivation by "Just trying it." Take a look at the video now and consider what you may want to "just try!"

Dear Crucial Skills, A colleague of mine started in an entry-level role. For the past two years he has been an acting supervisor in an unfilled position. He applied for the permanent position but did not get the job. He must now return to his entry-level role under my supervision. How can I support him through this transition? What should I do if he continues to act like a supervisor? Signed, Assisting a Colleague Dear Assisting, My first question to you is: Are you imagining a problem that doesn’t exist? Your question might reflect your own lack of leadership confidence rather than your colleague’s self-imposed shame at returning to an entry-level role. Allow me to give an example. I once served in a leadership position in my church. When I was later released from that position, I was asked to serve in a subordinate role to the new leader. I was happy to do it. But I could tell the new leader was immensely uncomfortable giving me assignments. He would thank me profusely for the smallest gesture of service and seemed nervous when I was around. After a couple of months, I found a private moment and reassured him of both my confidence in him and my commitment to the higher purpose we were both serving. When I told him, "I don’t care where I serve, only that I serve," he began to relax and load me up with assignments. So my first suggestion is to be sure you have a problem, before you solve it. If, however, this person’s past actions or comments lead you to conclude he will feel slighted by the change, here are a few thoughts: Remember—it’s not about you. It would be easy to see his displays of discomfort or hurt as insubordination rather than shame. They aren’t. They are about him. He has a view of the world that ties his self-worth to his social status. All of us feel that way to some degree, so hopefully you can sympathize with, rather than personalize, the emotions he’s experiencing. If you take them personally, you will unwittingly act in ways that reinforce the problem rather than help resolve it. For example, you may become stern in your interactions with him. You may marginalize him socially. You might distance yourself from him. All of these responses will add to his sense that his worth has declined with his position—while not increasing his feelings of trust and safety with you. Talk now. If you’ve already seen signs that this will be a tough transition for him, inoculate your relationship from damage by speaking up front. Validate his feelings. Let him know you understand that it might be disappointing to lose some of the enjoyments and challenges he had in his supervisory position. Share your nervousness about the transition. Take responsibility for the fact that this is your nervousness. Don’t blame him. Let him know you appreciate how difficult the change will be and that you worry that supervising a former supervisor might be tough for you. Then ask candidly for his advice in managing it with you. Give concrete examples of situations where it might feel awkward and talk them through with him; for example: giving assignments, giving feedback, and holding him accountable. If you pre-live it with him—making a contract with each other for how you will handle these situation—you will both be more comfortable when the time arrives. Talk later. Also, agree up front to a check-in. For example, you might say, "How about if we go to lunch in 30 days and discuss how it’s working for both of us?" Setting this check-in time will help you both stay conscious and accountable during the intervening time—and will make it easier to talk about course-corrections without it feeling like you’re calling for a major therapy session. Engage him without enabling him. Finally, you’ve got a great asset here. You’ve got someone with two years of supervisory experience; take advantage of it! However, not in a condescending way. Don’t do it to try to manipulate him from adjusting to his new position. But do take advantage of his judgment and experience in appropriate ways. You are wise to be attentive to this crucial moment for him and for you. I hope these ideas help you get to a new "normal" that is enjoyable for you both. Sincerely, Joseph

This column will be Al Switzler’s last. He is transitioning to a more advisory role and will be supporting some of our non-profit efforts. We will be introducing new thought leaders in coming issues of Crucial Skills. Dear Crucial Skills, What do I do about a supervisor who doesn’t respond to or acknowledge e-mails and other correspondence from me? I even use the "read receipt" which indicates that it was read, but still no response. Sincerely, Awaiting a Response Dear Awaiting, When I read questions like this, I sense frustration, self-doubt, and difficulty in restraining your anger. But before I respond to your question, let me start with a caveat. Every situation varies. Since I know so little of the specifics, history, and stressors, I’m shooting in the dark a bit. But, hopefully you’ll give me the benefit of the doubt if I have guessed incorrectly. With this in mind, I’d like to insert your question into a bucket that contains other similar questions and challenges: • "What do I do when my supervisor makes a commitment to involve me in decisions and then doesn’t? I feel uncomfortable chasing her down all the time." • "How do I respond if someone I work with goes to radio silence—someone from whom I need information, help, or approval?" And so I will offer three tactics for responding to these kinds of challenges. 1. Start with Heart. Give the other person the benefit of the doubt. You have some history with the other person. You know how long this has been going on. You could explain how many times you’ve tried to talk with your supervisor about his or her unwillingness to respond. I’d say that, in one way, regardless of the background, you should start by asking the "humanizing question" with a twist. The humanizing question is this: "Why would a reasonable, rational, decent person act this way?" This is an invitation for your brain and emotions to engage in an empathy exercise. What could be going on with your supervisor? What stress is s/he experiencing? In what ways could you be part of the problem? And here is the twist: In what ways could you be part of the solution? Allow me to speculate here. Could it be that your supervisor is facing tons of stress from above and is acting as a buffer between you and the stress? Could it be that your supervisor gets 547 e-mails per day and is simply swamped? Insert all the empathetic responses you can think of here. Then create a plan to be helpful. You might go to him or her and ask if it would be possible for you to send fewer e-mails by setting a weekly (or daily) five-minute meeting to keep your projects speeding along and to keep him or her informed. Together, you will need to work out the specifics. But I think the principle is sound. Begin with empathy, find the key barriers, and then try to be part of a solution—rather than maintaining the stance that your supervisor is the problem. 2. Clarify the workflow. Often when there is a struggle in a relationship, it’s because the people involved are dependent on one another for many actions—sometimes too many. For example, what do you need from your supervisor and what does your supervisor need from you? Do you need updates or approvals? Delays cause you grief and radio silence has you sitting on your hands. Does your supervisor need trust and predictability? Is this a complicated project that has your supervisor juggling seventeen balls with little time left over to answer e-mails? The conversation you might have is about empowerment—getting more on your plate and less on your supervisor’s. Go to your supervisor with a plan for how you might streamline your work in a way that continues to give the supervisor increased trust and predictability. Years ago, we worked with an organization that had hundreds of forms requiring anywhere from four to fourteen signatures for approval. Our analysis found that any signatures above the first four were redundant—people signed the form simply because the person before them signed it. They reduced the number of signatures dramatically and thus reduced the waiting time between approvals. You might go in with a proposal, in question form, about moving more of the approvals to you. Additionally, show how you would keep the supervisor informed and when and how you would deal with exceptions. Such a discussion would make you part of the solution. 3. Talk about the real issue. I saved this for last with good reason. Sometimes we don’t feel we can talk about the real issue without trying other tactics first, so I’ve led with them. However, I stress that this may be the first tactic. The real issue with your supervisor is not that s/he is not responsive. The real issue is that there is a pattern adversely affecting the quantity and quality of your work. Sometimes the assumptions we make about our supervisor and our relationship keeps us from the real discussion. Generally, I’d suggest that reframe your assumptions and find a way to talk about this pattern. Select a good time and a private location. It might go something like this: "I’m finding a consistent need to get information or approvals from you but then have to wait on the messages I send. I’d like to talk about what we might do to make this process more efficient so the projects can proceed smoothly. Would that be okay?" The two of you can share ideas and make a plan. If that doesn’t happen, I would also have a script prepared where you could talk about your Mutual Purpose—you aren’t trying to cause more stress but trying to find solutions that would make it easier for your supervisor while allowing you to get your work done more quickly and efficiently. I would then suggest tactics like the two detailed above. I like going into any crucial conversation not only prepared for the topic at hand, but also with several other strategies to use if the first plan doesn’t work. Will it work? I don’t know. Will the situation improve if you do nothing? I doubt it; it seldom does. Do you have enough tactics and scripts and enough Mutual Purpose and respect to engage in the conversation and feel confident that some progress will be made? Absolutely. I wish you the best, Al

Dear Crucial Skills, I have been doing a job for 14 years, making improvements and reevaluating each year to make it more efficient and produce better results. The two teams I have been dealing with have always expressed satisfaction with my work. We now have a different management team with a different philosophy; they want me to do my job in less than half the time, assisting 50% more clients than I had previously. They want me to just "get the job done" and are not concerned about quality. How do I deal with this without sacrificing personal integrity? Regards, Frustrated with Management Dear Frustrated, When managers make this kind of demand, it feels like a kick in the guts. It’s as if the new management team is discrediting your experience and the improvements you’ve worked so hard to achieve. You’ve put a lot of yourself into your job, so it’s hard not to take it personally. And, when they increase your workload as much as they have, it feels as if they are devaluing the job itself—"Since your job isn’t worth doing at all, it’s certainly not worth doing well." And yet, taking this demand personally would be a mistake. It’s very unlikely the new management team was thinking about you and your personal performance when they made this change in priorities. I’ll suggest a few, more dispassionate, ways to respond. Explore Others’ Paths. Begin by seeking to understand the facts and logic behind the new direction. Hold off on evaluating the feasibility of the specific changes until you understand why the new management team believes new priorities are needed. For example, I worked with a management team that discovered they could double their sales and triple their profits if they switched from producing top-quality external siding to lower-quality interior siding. Employees felt lousy about producing lower-quality material, until they understood it was what the marketplace wanted. The lower-quality material would be used inside walls, where its flaws would be hidden. In this case the change was a success. The operation expanded, and everyone benefited. Reinvent the Process. Try to reinvent how you manage this new volume of clients. Tweaking the existing process probably won’t be enough. It will likely require a disruptive innovation. For example, instead of increasing the speed with which you work with clients over the phone, maybe the solution is to ditch the phone, and use a website where clients solve their own problems. Learn from Positive Deviants. A positive deviant is a person who faces the same challenges as everyone else, but has somehow achieved breakthrough results. Check to see if there are any of your peers who are meeting the new numbers without sacrificing essential quality elements. If there are any, go and observe them. Ask them to observe you as well. You may discover insights that will radically change your results. I saw this a few years ago when I was working with a team that transcribed physician’s notes. The department had just introduced voice-recognition software, but hadn’t seen the productivity increases they’d expected. The team looked for positive deviants, and discovered three members of their team who had become four times more productive than the rest—but no one knew why. They observed each other, and quickly figured it out. These exceptional three had independently programmed Microsoft shortcuts that sped up their work. Once they shared these shortcuts with the team, everyone’s productivity quadrupled. Track a Balanced Scorecard of Outcomes. My guess is that you and the management team are focused on somewhat different outcomes. They are looking at volume and margins, while you are looking at quality and complaints. The mistake would be to track one set of outcomes without also tracking the others. You’ll want to track both the desired outcomes and the potential risks. Notice that I’m emphasizing tracking and measuring. Verbal warnings about potential risks never carry as much weight as actual data. Maybe the results will confirm your warnings, or maybe they will confirm the management team’s hopes. Or maybe the data will land in the middle, and everyone will see the need for more work. Remember, it’s not about winning or losing an argument; it’s about getting facts and data on the table, where they can serve as common ground. Yeah But . . . What if these tips don’t work? What if, after giving it your best shot, you conclude that the new management team doesn’t value the work you do? If this is the case, I believe you have three options. 1. Stay in your current job, but feel as if you are sacrificing your integrity. This won’t work—at least, not in the long run. You will hate your job, and your feelings will show on your face and in your actions. 2. Change to a job they do value. 3. Or find another organization that values the kind of work you want to do. Good luck, David

It was a Saturday morning in the summer of 1980, the front doorbell chimed, and my seven-year-old daughter Rebecca ran to see who was there. It turned out to be her best friend, Candy, who smiled and asked, "Can you come out and play?" Rebecca took a quick look at her pal, curled her lip, said "No," and then slammed the door. I watched this exchange and thought to myself, ‘Who slams the door in a friend’s face?’ Apparently my daughter. So, I asked her what had just taken place. She explained that her mom had told her to clean her room before she went anywhere. "So you wanted to play, but you had to clean your room first," I carefully paraphrased. "Yes," she responded. "The sooner I do my chores, the sooner I can play." "How do you think Candy felt about your slamming the door in her face?" I asked. "She looks sad," Rebecca explained as we peered out the window and watched Candy trudge back to her house. "I guess I hurt her feelings." "Can you think of something you could have said that would have been kinder?" I inquired. Rebecca had no answer. That’s because she’s human and we humans aren’t born with much knowledge. We certainly aren’t born with the complicated, and often subtle, skills that make up social awareness and charm. Unlike some guppies Rebecca and I had watched being born a few days earlier, humans don’t arrive with knowledge about anything. Guppies shoot out of their moms like a mini-torpedo, take a quick look around, swim to the nearest plant, hide in the foliage, and then swim in sync with the moving vegetation. They’re born with first-class hiding skills. That’s because the fish around them (including daddy and uncle guppy) eat baby guppies. To maintain the species, guppies are taught most of what they’ll need to survive—not in schools (pun intended), but in-utero. They’re born teenagers. Most of what they’ll ever know, they know at birth. Humans, in contrast, are born with a blank slate. Infants know nothing nor are they pre-programmed to do anything. The good news: humans don’t get jerked around by instincts. (Hey, let’s swim up an Alaskan stream until we beat ourselves to death on the rocks!) The bad news: humans have to learn how to survive—skill by skill, situation by situation. Social scripts are no exception. By age seven, Rebecca hadn’t learned the door script and was having a hard time inventing one of her own. So I continued the instruction. "What if you said, ‘I’d love to come out and play, but I have to clean my room first. When I finish I’ll come over and get you.’?" Then I stepped outside and knocked on the door. Rebecca answered and I asked her to come out and play. When I share this story, I typically ask audiences what they think Rebecca did at this point. They respond: "She slammed the door in your face!" But they’re wrong. Rebecca politely said, "I’d love to come out and play, but I have to clean my room first. When I’m done I’ll come get you." In less than three minutes, I had taught Rebecca a social script. While working as a professor a few months later, I decided to test whether I could apply what I had done with a seven-year-old to grown adults by teaching them a social script. And unlike Rebecca, whom I taught openly and to her knowledge, I wanted to see if I could teach adults a social script without them even noticing. To find out, I asked a group of graduate students to cut into movie theater lines. Our goal was to count how many people would typically say something to the line cutter. In the laid-back Mountain West where we conducted the experiment, no matter the gender, size, or demeanor of the line cutter, nobody spoke up. Better to stay mum, the subjects concluded, and avoid any potential conflicts. Next, I asked the students to cut in front of—not a stranger—but a fellow student whom we’d secretly placed in line. The student was instructed to become upset. "Hey, quit cutting in line!" the student would brusquely say to the cutter who would then go to the end of the queue. Next, we waited a minute and cut in front of the person standing behind the student who had just chewed out the line cutter. Would experimental subjects be informed and emboldened from the demonstration they had just witnessed and now speak their minds? Since we hadn’t exhibited a very healthy script, we hypothesized that most people would remain silent. And they did. Not one person spoke harshly after watching someone else do the same. For our third trial, we cut in front of a student who was instructed to be diplomatic. The student was to smile and say, "Excuse me. Perhaps you’re unaware. We’ve been waiting in line for over fifteen minutes." The cutter would then apologize and go to the end of the line. Now for the big question. Similar to Rebecca learning the door script, would onlookers learn and use their new and smart sounding line-cutting script? We waited a minute, cut in front of the subject standing behind the positive role model and watched what took place—in fifty different lines. The results were startling. Over 80% of people who observed the effective interaction, spoke up. In fact, they said the exact same words they heard modeled. We did it! By using a positive role model, we taught strangers a social script that they immediately put into action. And we did it without them even knowing. The implications of this research are obvious. Humans, despite the fact that they’re born without a scrap of useful knowledge, can observe, learn, and put into play, a whole host of skills—including social scripts. For example, you watch an employee argue for his idea in a meeting with far too much force, causing others to resist. You note that the tactic didn’t work. Then you watch someone tentatively present the same idea and ask others what they think—this approach is met with acceptance. "That nonaggressive approach worked!" you think to yourself and, just like Rebecca, you’ve learned a new social tactic. And yet, most of us spend little time observing, learning, and teaching social scripts. We exert more effort learning French (or even Klingon) than studying human interaction. But this can change simply by watching people in tough social interactions, spotting what works and what doesn’t, and then practicing the skills yourself. Eventually, you can teach the skills to others. Don’t rely on chance—certainly not with your children, friends, and coworkers. Expecting people to invent tactics for working through complex social issues is akin to handing a child a pencil and paper and expecting him to invent calculus. Instead, take what you’ve learned through observing others, break it into component skills, and teach these social snippets to those around you. Teaching others social skills is one of the best gifts you can give them. Plus, if you get really good at handling high-stakes conversations, you no longer have to put up with line cutters.