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

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