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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Dear Crucial Skills, I have the privilege and frustration of being the mother of a strong-willed teenage girl. It seems my child popped out believing she was an adult and in charge. She is very verbal and says it like she sees it—for good or ill. I realize that teenagers are emotionally driven, however I’m struggling to know how to respond to her routinely rude comments. I love my child deeply but she needs a filter; her words can be very hurtful. Unfortunately, I am not the only target of her meanness. I’m concerned that she will burn bridges if she does not take greater care with her words. Any advice? Sincerely, Struggling Dear Struggling, A business associate of mine told me about his son going off to a distant university. The father became very emotional. He told me how difficult his son was to raise; his son was rude to others and had angry, emotional outbursts. His father responded with anger and punishments. When the son left for college, he told his Dad, "I hate you and hope I never see you again." Later that semester, a school counselor assigned to new students called to tell the father that his son had been diagnosed with Asperger syndrome. As the father learned more, he discovered that the behaviors that his son exhibited and irritated him the most were common symptoms of Asperger’s. My friend started crying as he told me that if he had known his son had a physical/emotional problem, he would have treated him differently. He would have tried to help him, not punish him. My brokenhearted friend wondered if he would ever be able to heal the badly damaged relationship he had with his son. In sharing this sad story with you, I’m not presuming that your daughter has this or a similar issue; I am urging you to consider whether or not there is an ability component to her behavior. This is a preliminary diagnosis before beginning the problem-solving process. Being a teenager with a still-developing brain that is overdosing on hormones and adrenaline, is almost the definition of an ability problem. But, compare her to her peers. You mentioned that your daughter is "routinely rude" and needs a filter. Is she unable to think about what she is saying, or just unwilling to? If her behavior is more belligerent or extreme than other teens, or if she seems unable to empathize with those she insults, seeking counseling or professional expertise might be the solution. You may avoid a lot of unnecessary pain for both you and your daughter by taking this path. On the other hand, if her actions seem within the bounds of normal teenager behavior, then I would recommend some Crucial Accountability strategies. First, get your heart right; Start with Heart. Ask yourself, "What do I really want?" Don’t think in terms of character traits; think of specific behaviors, actions, and words. Maybe something like, "I want my daughter to refrain from saying rude, hurtful remarks. I want her to express herself in respectful ways, even when she disagrees with something being said or done." Now, get your head right; Master your Stories. Ask yourself, "Why would a reasonable, rational decent person say those things?" If that seems like a bit of a stretch for a teenager, you might ask, "Why would a decent kid say those things?" Maybe she’s frustrated and angry. Maybe she’s rebellious and lashing-out because she wants to be her own person and test the limits. Maybe she wants to hurt others to keep them from getting too close. Maybe she got up on the wrong side of the bed and her stars are out of alignment. Having considered many possibilities, ask the hard question. Which of these is true? Realize the hard answer is, you don’t know. So don’t assume you do. Maybe you ought to talk to her and find out, so you can address the real problem and not the symptoms. Begin the conversation by Describing the Gap. Factually describe her behavior and compare it to what you expect. Make sure you address the pattern of behavior you have witnessed. You might say "At dinner tonight, when we were discussing the new bussing schedule, you told me that I didn’t know what I was talking about and that I am ‘so lame’ I shouldn’t be saying anything at all. Earlier this week in the car you called your sister an idiot. And on Saturday, you said you didn’t want to go to her boring soccer game and that she was the worst one on her team. I’m seeing a pattern of hurtful remarks. I expect you to be respectful to others, even if you disagree with something." Next, ask a diagnostic question to understand why she is behaving this way. "What’s going on? Help me understand. Why are you saying these things?" Be intentional as you Make it Safe and create dialogue with your daughter. Taking these steps will help you avoid the costly mistake of assuming your daughter’s pattern of hurtful behavior is a motivation problem. If you decide the problem you face is a matter of motivating your daughter to change her behavior, then use the Crucial Accountability process to get compliance. Share with her the consequences of her rude remarks. By focusing on the negative natural consequences of her behavior, you not only educate her but you motivate her to change as well. If these efforts don’t create a willingness to improve, calmly and respectfully explain the consequences you will impose on her when she speaks rudely to others. Be specific. "The next time you are disrespectful to me, like saying I’m lame or I don’t know what I’m talking about, you will lose your phone privileges for twenty-four hours. This also applies to others, like when you call your sister ‘stupid’ or say that she’s the worst player on the team." Set a follow-up time within the next twenty-four hours to review her behavior. In your interaction with her, always model the respectful behavior you expect from her. Praise her good behavior and hold her accountable for unacceptable behavior. Don’t ever ignore her hurtful behavior. Be consistent—every time, all the time. I wish you all the best as you succeed in doing the hardest job on the whole planet—being a loving parent. Ron

At this year’s REACH Conference, I had the pleasure of interacting with a hundred or so VitalSmarts Certified Trainers in breakout sessions entitled "Using Your Skills in the Community." I walked away from our conversations with a renewed interest in serving in my own community, and I think other attendees felt similarly. How will you use your skills in your community? What follows is a brief summary of our conference musings. Perhaps these will spark your own creativity and desire to serve. Be an example. Let’s say that you’ve learned a new skill, such as how to hold a high-stakes, emotional conversation—that’s the crux of Crucial Conversations, right? Each time you use that skill, you’re sharing a little light with those around you—giving them a glimpse of a new behavioral possibility. Think of your skills, not just those that stem from your exposure to VitalSmarts content. Can you use them more deliberately and frequently? In an appropriate way, can you use your skills more visibly? Be a mentor. Can you remember a key moment in your life when someone mentored you? Take a moment and consider the people in your professional, social, and family circles. Who could you motivate or enable? Whether you think of your own skill set as limited or vast, chances are that there is someone near you who can benefit from your kind words, coaching, cheerleading, or guidance. You don’t need official permission or a mandate to be a mentor, and often those who need your help are hesitant to ask. Who might look back a few years from now and thank you for mentoring them? Be a trainer. If you’re a VitalSmarts Certified Trainer, then you may have heard of the Not-for-Profit Training Grant Program. Through this program, you can donate your unique skills as a trainer to a qualifying nonprofit organization in your community. Many nonprofits, which otherwise couldn’t access training of this quality, have benefited from this program. Can you think of an organization in your community that could benefit from your training skills? Be a volunteer. The important work of building healthy communities takes place at many levels—through the work of inspired individuals, neighborhood associations, churches, service organizations, and a variety of nonprofits, for-profit and social impact ventures, and government. Nearly every one of these is an entry point for volunteers. Given your skill set and the needs of your community, how might you stretch yourself into an unfamiliar and potentially rewarding volunteer role? As a trainer, you possess facilitation and teaching skills that could be especially valuable. Be an influencer. During our breakout session, we spent extra time discussing the Influencer model, which is the backbone of the book, Influencer: The New Science of Leading Change. This model presents a systematic way for any reader to influence behavior. You don’t need special permission or training to apply the Influencer model, and, in fact, I’d love to hear about your efforts, successes, and challenges. I encourage you to read stories of others who have applied this model to accomplish important goals within organizations and communities. How will you influence your community to change for good? If you’ve felt inspired by any of these descriptions or questions, then I’ll conclude with this invitation: act now. Act in a small way, but act now. Don’t wait for the perfect opportunity or for a formal invitation or for a season when you have more free time. Don’t wait for this motivational microburst to subside. Take this challenge now—and let’s all use our skills for good.

Dear Crucial Skills, I have a colleague who deals me backhanded compliments about my job performance as the proofreader for the firm. For example, she repeatedly congratulates me on catching errors and then says, "It’s nice to hear those things when you never hear it from anyone else. It must be awful to think your job is not valued." First of all, my work is valued; that is not the issue or even something I worry about. I just want the backhanded compliments to stop. I don’t like this woman on a personal level because she is a gossip and has a reputation for stirring up trouble at the office. However, because I work closely with her and her department, I want to at least have a respectful working relationship. How do I address the backhanded compliments she’s been serving me lately? Signed, Slighted Dear Slighted, Thank you for your question. I read some resentment in your comments (perhaps my interpretation). You say you don’t like your coworker. But the fact that you took the trouble to write about this makes me suspect that you feel provoked or offended by her insinuation that your work is not respected. That’s what I’ll assume for the purpose of my response to you. If I’m way off base, then I hope my comments are at least useful to others! May I suggest that the reason her comments hurt is not because they’re hurtful, it’s because you fear them. They trigger some shame or hurt you hold from past experience. The hurt they create is predictable because you hold them in a mentally habitual way. Two things are necessary to create this pain. First, some triggering circumstance must occur. For example, someone indicates that they believe your work is of inferior value to that of others. Second, and this is the important part: you must interpret this triggering event as evidence of some shame you fear. For example, when someone disparages my work, I may conclude that I am worthless. The second step feels inevitable and true. We don’t even notice our role in the interpretation process because we have a lifetime of practice in drawing this conclusion whenever these kinds of triggers occur. But if you change the way you interpret, the hurt will disappear—completely. I know this both from the laboratory of my own life and from a lifetime of observation of others’ emotional responses to social triggers. I was baffled for years as I observed people in apparently toxic interpersonal environments who seemed largely immune to them. For example, I once watched a man who was (wrongfully) accused of being dishonest in the middle of a business meeting. This wasn’t a passing accusation either. It was delivered with a sneer and a string of epithets. I felt my body tense in empathy for the man who was being unfairly insulted. Had it been me, I would have felt a powerful urge to lash out at the accuser. This man, on the other hand, was relaxed. His face showed concern, but not pain. And his response registered interest, but not animosity. "Wow. I had no idea you saw me that way. What have I done that caused you to see me like that?" he said. He felt no shame. He felt no pain. Instead, he felt compassion and curiosity. Why? Because he understood that this person’s action were not about him. So, I’ve got great news for you. In fact, I can promise you that if you think deeply about what I’m about to share, nintey-nine percent of the problem you’re experiencing will disappear in a matter of days—or weeks at the most. Never again will you feel slighted, offended, or hurt by this person. Wouldn’t that be great? All you need to do is consistently practice the following skill in coming days and these results are guaranteed. Remember: It is never, never, never, never, never about you. Never. Ever. Now, let me be clear. There are times when others’ words or actions give us true feedback. They may indicate we are incompetent, made a mistake, broke a promise, etc. And their feedback may be true. It may be helpful information about you. But their emotions and judgments are not about you; they are about them. Nothing they ever do or say has any implications for your worth, self-respect, or self-esteem—unless you decide it does. And it is this decision that causes your persecutor’s foible to feel provocative to you. So, here’s what I’d suggest: 1. Own your emotions. Notice what kinds of triggers connect with painful self-doubts or shame you’ve learned to invoke. Then develop a script you’ll use to refute this inaccurate conclusion and reconnect with the truth about yourself. 2. Get curious. Once you’ve owned and managed the emotions that could get in the way of a healthy conversation, you’ll notice your resentment will be replaced with curiosity. So act on it. Approach this person, describe the pattern you see, then genuinely try to understand where she’s coming from when she makes these statements. As you do, you will almost inevitably gain new insight about why she frames her "compliments" the way she does. For instance, when your shame is not distorting your perception, you may learn that she has felt her work was disrespected in the past. Maybe her comments were a clumsy attempt to reassure you about something that is only an issue for her. 3. Teach. With a better understanding of her true intent, you can let her know how you hear comments like this. Teach her better ways of expressing solidarity or affirmation to you. I wish you the best in creating a healthier relationship with her. But most of all, I hope recognizing this trigger gives you an opportunity to develop greater emotional mastery—which can bring a greater peace and happiness to your life. Best wishes, Joseph

Dear Crucial Skills, I am a mid-level manager in human services, and support a twenty-one person staff. Nineteen of these team members have a professional approach to their work, manage their emotions appropriately, and are respectful to others. However, two team members are constantly negative, complaining, and disrespectful. I have addressed these behaviors with them, but they only improve for a little while before reverting back. I am continually amazed at how these two team members can negatively affect nineteen otherwise positive people. Over the years, I have seen this on other teams as well, where the negative member(s) adversely influence the positive members, even though the positive members are in the majority. Is there a reason that negativity trumps positivity? Regards, Discouraged Dear Discouraged, Thanks for a winning question. Infectious negativity saps the vitality from far too many workplaces. Your final question is especially interesting to me: Why does negativity trump positivity? I’ll describe several reasons for why negativity spreads and persists, as well as suggest a variety of solutions. 1. Negativity trumps positivity because humans are designed to be risk averse. This makes sense, when you think about our survival instincts. Bad news signals danger and may require action. Danger signals are processed by the amygdala, the emotional part of our brain, instead of by the prefrontal cortex. These amygdala-mediated thoughts seize our attention and focus it on the danger. This is why even people who are normally positive pay more attention to negative than to positive information. 2. People pay attention to negative information because it violates the organization’s public relations bias. Most organizations and most leaders try to sugarcoat problems, hiding them from employees. The result is that employees are hungry for the truth—especially for the less-flattering truths they believe are being withheld from them. This means they pay special attention, and seriously consider, the negative information they hear—even when it comes from less-than-trustworthy sources. Solution: The solution to these first two problems is to add more and more honest information to the pool. People who have questions and concerns will turn to darned near anyone for information. Make sure you are there first with honest answers. 3. Too many people count on others to speak up for them. They are too timid to speak up for themselves. The people who do speak up fall into two camps: those especially skilled at crucial conversations and those who aren’t. Those especially skilled folks know how to speak up in ways that are frank, honest, and respectful. Those who are especially unskilled are honest, but offensive, and may not even realize how negative they actually are. Solution: Create opportunities and make it safer for people to raise questions and concerns. Don’t force the silent majority to rely on their least-skilled members to raise their concerns. In addition, train and coach the less-skilled communicators to be more skilled in how they raise their concerns—and direct them to raise their concerns with you. 4. The fourth reason that negativity spreads is different from the first three, because it deals with a different kind of negativity: disrespectful behavior. When someone is disrespectful, others often respond with disrespect—tit-for-tat. As a result, disrespect becomes a poison that spreads quickly through a team. Solution: Every team has informal/implicit norms for what constitutes respectful behavior. When disrespect is seen too often, it may be necessary to make these norms more formal and explicit. This may require a team meeting, a few crucial conversations, or an actual code of conduct. You’ll need to decide how explicit the norms need to be. However, the key to success isn’t the norms, but how they are enforced. You need to achieve 200 percent accountability: Team members are 100 percent accountable for being respectful; they are also 100 percent accountable for others being respectful. This means that team members, not you, hold each other accountable. It may require some coaching or training, but it is essential. You, as the leader, can’t keep these norms alive. They must be enforced by the team members themselves. 5. Negativity is a habit that’s hard to break. We’ve all observed this unfortunate truth. People commit to stop complaining, rumor-mongering, or being disrespectful, but then fall back in to their old ways. Solution: Use our CPR skills to make sure you frame the problem correctly. Here is an example. Content: If the problem is a single incident, then address the content. The content includes the facts about what you expected and what you observed. For example, "When you have a concern or hear a rumor, I expect you to bring it to me, so I can deal with it in a productive way. I hear you shared a rumor this morning—as if it were true—with several team members without checking it out with me first. What happened?" Pattern: If your chief concern is with the pattern of behaviors, then address the pattern. The pattern is that the person has made a commitment or promise, and has failed to live up to it. For example, "We’ve talked before about sharing rumors without checking them with me first. I thought I had your commitment to stop doing this. I hear you shared a rumor this morning. If my facts are right, then you broke your commitment to me. Help me understand." Relationship: If your chief concern involves trust or respect, then address the relationship. The relationship may need to change. For example, "When you make commitments to me, and then fail to follow through on them, I begin to think I can’t trust you. And, if I can’t trust you, I don’t see how I can have you on my team. Help me understand." I hope these ideas help you deal with the negativity that spreads in your workplace. Let me know how they work. Good Luck, David

I miss strawberries. Despite the fact that my acquaintance with them began quite by accident, I still miss them. It all started when, as a child, I was foraging in the woods behind my house and stumbled onto a patch of wild strawberries. I had already gobbled down berries of all sorts that morning and figured that the insignificant sampling of fragaria vesca wouldn’t amount to much. I was wrong. The berries were delicious beyond description. As I feasted on the wild wonder, all other berries hung their heads in shame. And now for a change in direction, but not topic. Last night I mistakenly tuned into a TV "makeover" program. Not one where they transform a clap-trap shamble of a house into a modern wonder, but one where they make over an actual human being—a woman to be more precise. I had tuned into the part of the program where a plastic surgeon was holding up "before" pictures of a normal-looking woman. He chided her for once having looked so plain. Then he bragged about the miraculous transformation he and a team of surgeons, silicone experts, and cosmetologists had performed. Although no one said the words, it was clear the transformation team believed that looking like a runway model should be the goal of all caring people. "Just look at her!" the plastic surgeon exclaimed as the woman finally walked on stage. They had replaced the plain person with a firmer and "rounder-in-the-right-places" beauty. Behold Barbie. The woman gushed. The team applauded. The crowd cheered. I doubt that when penicillin was discovered the celebration was as boisterous as this one. The woman they had transformed worked as an elementary school teacher. When the TV program cut to a video clip of the remade teacher’s cheering students, I was surprised by their boisterous reaction. I figured the kids would be disappointed, but they seemed to like the new version of their teacher. One boy went so far as to say that she was "hot." I flinched. I also thought my first-grade teacher was beautiful and I can remember the day I was most struck by her beauty. My classmate, Tammy Ray Black, had just completed a coloring assignment. She was the kid nobody liked; learning was a challenge for her. And as is often the case with children who struggle, she was constantly acting out, whining, and causing her classmates grief. Finishing a task was a breakthrough for her and Miss McDonald didn’t miss this chance to reward her efforts. At first, I couldn’t believe that my beloved teacher was praising Tammy Ray for completing a coloring assignment. Heck, I’d done the same thing a hundred times before and she never said anything to me. And then I got it. Miss McDonald was trying to help my classmate feel better about herself. How lovely. At that moment I thought she was as beautiful a person as I had ever seen. Curiously enough, she didn’t look a bit like Barbie. Of course, Barbie hadn’t been invented yet, so how was I to know what was beautiful and what wasn’t? Back to the wild strawberries. "So you liked the strawberries," Grandpa remarked as I told him about the ones I had discovered. "They aren’t just tasty," he went on to explain, "they’re also honest." I didn’t catch his drift, so Grandpa quickly clarified his point. "You see, most fruits and berries employ trickery. They look good on the surface, all the while hiding their inner seeds. You bite into a beautiful piece of fruit and nearly break a tooth on the concealed pit. The strawberry, in contrast, wears its seeds on the outside. That makes it honest." Or so said Grandpa. Let’s leap to a still different time and place. The summer before I started junior high school, I entered the workforce for the first time. Each morning, I rode a bus with my buddies far into the country. Here we would walk into a sea of parallel rows and pick strawberries—the honest fruit. As it turns out, strawberries are also the user-unfriendly fruit. They offer no relief from the sun as they lay low to the dirt, requiring you to either stoop or crawl if you want to harvest them. But these commercial strawberries were nothing like the wild ones I had discovered. They had been transformed through the miracle of horticulture into larger and prettier berries. But at a cost. They weren’t nearly as flavorful as their ancestors. It only got worse from there. In my fifth summer of picking strawberries, I was selected along with two other kids to harvest a new, experimental field. The small patch sported the latest and greatest variety of strawberry. The new breed was huge, deep red, and flawless. Horticulture experts had outdone themselves. And because the berries were so large, I could fill a box in half the time. For a dream-like two hours, I filled each flat of twelve boxes in a mere fifteen minutes, not the half hour the other, smaller berries took. I loved those new money-doubling products of horticultural science. But not for long. Sadly, as I bit into one of the uber-berries, I discovered the rest of the story. The new strain was even more bitter and pithier than the commercial ones I had been picking for years. Worst of all, gone was the taste of strawberry. Imagine that. A strawberry that didn’t taste anything like a strawberry. As you may have already guessed, the experimental berries that I picked over forty years ago are the same huge, deep red, tasteless fruit you can buy at the grocery store today. Putting it all together. I’m exercising a fair amount nowadays in order to lose weight. I want to be able to play with my grandkids without dropping dead from a heart attack. For me, thinning down is not so much a looks thing as a health thing. That’s because I mainly like who I am and I’m glad that my wife, children, and grandchildren seem perfectly satisfied as well. Like a strawberry, I typically wear my seeds on the outside. I’m deeply aware of the fact that I look like a cross between Tom Cruise and Danny DeVito—minus the Tom Cruise part. And you know what? I’m okay with that. I don’t believe it when TV commercials and programs tell me I need to transform myself into someone else’s view of how I should appear. In my particular case, today’s beauty vendors routinely try to tempt me with the wonders of liposuction or maybe even calf and pec implants. Imagine that: little plastic pillows sewed inside me to make my chest look more muscled. You’re talking about a guy who doesn’t miss his hair all that much or even think to comb it for that matter. Most important of all, I never want my wife, children, or grandchildren to feel that they too are unfinished until someone transforms them into the world’s view of the perfect prototype. I love them just the way they are. I love them for who they are. And like the wild strawberry, I love them for what’s inside. I know that sounds corny. It is corny. But maybe I’m not thinking clearly. When I look out the window of my office and see puffy-lipped, silicon enhanced, calf and pec sculpted, and curiously look-alike "perfect specimens" jog by, I have an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. I miss strawberries.

Dear Crucial Skills, I’ve recently taken the Crucial Conversations Training in an effort to improve my communication skills with my coworkers. However, I’ve been cautioned that I already burned a few bridges and that some of my coworkers are hesitant to work with me on projects. To be honest, I don’t really blame them. I’ve been described as a strong Type A personality and I sometimes get frustrated when other people on the team don’t share my drive for producing results. I genuinely do feel badly if I’ve hurt or offended people over the years, but I don’t want to go around doing a big sackcloth and ashes routine to atone for the sins of the past. I feel like I can be pleasant, friendly, and helpful ninety-nine percent of the time, but they are always going to remember the one percent of the time when I wasn’t at my best. What is a professional way to say that I’d like to wipe the slate clean of past transgressions and start fresh? Sincerely, Mr. Type A Dear Mr. Type A, We are mistaken when we assume relationships are simply the sum total of all of our interactions; they are so much more. The most important component of any relationship is not the behavior that has been enacted between two people; rather, it is the conclusions that have been drawn about each other. The stories we tell ourselves are the basis of our relationships with each other. You are wise to notice how mistakes you have made with your coworkers in the past have made them hesitant to work with you on projects. It’s good that you want to make a "fresh start." The key to your success will be to first work on your stories about your coworker relationships, and then work on their stories about you. It seems to me that you are one step shy of taking responsibility for your part of the problem when you describe yourself as getting "frustrated when other people on the team don’t share your drive for producing results." I think it’s more likely that the problem is not that you care about results and they do not. It’s the way you express your frustration that causes them to not want to work with you. I believe the story you are telling yourself puts you in the best possible light (having a strong drive for producing results), instead of describing that when you are frustrated, you act in ways that hurt or offend others. The fact that this is your story is further evidenced by your statement, "I genuinely do feel badly if I’ve hurt or offended people." Do you have any evidence that people have been hurt or offended by you? For instance, that they don’t want to work with you. By adding the "if," it seems that you are allowing the possibility it might be true, but not taking responsibility for acting in ways that did in fact hurt and offend others. My advice is to revise your story in a way that factually identifies what you are doing that is creating the outcomes you want to change. How are you acting out your frustration instead of talking out your frustration? Answer that question and you will be on the path to becoming more effective with your coworkers. Next, work on your coworkers’ stories. You have been cautioned about having already "burned a few bridges," yet you feel that ninety-nine percent of the time, you are "pleasant, friendly, and helpful." That doesn’t seem fair, does it? I had a man approach me after a workshop on how leaders can rebuild trust. He told me that he had been using these skills with his two children for two years but their trust in him had not improved. I asked him what had happened two years ago. He explained that he came home drunk and had yelled and hit his children. The next day, when he realized what he had done, he was ashamed. He felt awful. He quit drinking that very day. Since that awful night, he told me he had not raised his voice in anger with his children, nor had he lifted his hand against them. Yet, in spite of his consistent efforts, he still feels a distance between them and reluctance for them to "let him into their hearts." I asked him, "What happened the morning after? What did you say to your children?" He told me that there had been no discussion of the incident, but that he had resolved then and there to quit drinking and to truly change. Because he did not discuss the incident with his children, he had not created a context for his future behavior. When he did not say he was sorry, when he did not promise he would never yell at them again and never, ever hit them, he did not create clear expectations about what they should expect from him. As a result, even though he was kind and no longer yelled, this was not evidence to his children that he had changed. In their mind, they were still waiting for the "other shoe to drop." Instead of seeing the incident as an exception to his usual loving behavior, they saw this behavior as revealing his true nature. Let’s get back to your question. For you to build effective relationships with your coworkers, you’re right, you do not have to "go around doing a big sackcloth and ashes routine." However, don’t repeat this father’s mistake. You must create a context with clear expectations going forward. Explain to your coworkers that you have completed training and realized there are some significant ways you can improve. Identify what they are. You might say, "In the past when I have gotten frustrated, I have lashed out and accused you of not caring. In the future, I will Describe the Gap. I will factually identify what has happened and compare it to what I expected. I will then ask for your view on what has occurred and I will listen to understand." By creating clear expectations for your coworkers about what they can expect from you, you give them a context from which they can evaluate your behavior. Instead of dismissing the ninety-nine percent of the time when you are helpful, and waiting for your next explosion, they will start to see your good behavior as evidence that you are doing what you said you would do. Every good encounter will be further evidence that you are really making an effort to change. When you do make a mistake, immediately acknowledge it, apologize, and start over. Instead of seeing your mistake as proof you have not changed, your co-workers are more likely to hear your apology as a sincere effort to improve and will be more willing to cut you some slack. By making real improvements, acknowledging mistakes, quickly apologizing and getting back on track, you can rebuild some of those "burned bridges" and become even more effective in producing the results you care so deeply about. All the best, Ron