Fifteen-year-old Jake is a high school basketball star. We invited Jake to go into another room and toss beanbags through holes of various sizes in a plywood target, then report back to us with his final score. Our hidden camera recorded that he scored six out of a possible fifteen points (not too good for a basketball phenom). As Jake approached our table to report his score, we wondered—would he embrace his shame and tell the truth? Or would he lie to get the extra $1 per point we promised him? Eighty percent of his colleagues in our experiment had lied. Would Jake follow suit—or fess up? Most of us lie. Studies have shown that lying is actually the natural order of things. From the time we are small, we learn there are powerful incentives to say what works rather than what’s true. The question is, why? Do we lie because we are morally bankrupt from birth? Or is there something more fixable going on? Given the importance of trust to healthy relationships, families, and communities, how can we help people do the unnatural? How can we, in spite of all the immediate incentives to do the opposite, influence people to tell the truth? The answer—at least in part—is surprisingly simple. And it begins with understanding one truth: most of our immoral actions are due not to moral defect, but to moral slumber. Thus, what we need is not a radical exorcism, but a bit of a wake-up call. Let’s set lying aside for a moment and look at a different example of ethical decision-making and how little it takes to influence people to make decent choices. Have you ever wondered whether a cook having a bad day takes it out on your food? Ryan Buell and colleagues from Harvard Business School did a fascinating experiment in a restaurant to test the effect of cameras on food quality. In one condition, customers were able to see the cooks as they prepared their food. In another, it was the reverse—cooks were provided with screens showing diners receiving their food. Which intervention would you guess made the biggest difference in food quality? Surprisingly, it was the second! You might think allowing customers to inspect quality would put cooks on notice and compel better quality. It didn’t. What made a difference was not inspection but connection. When cooks could see those eating their food, they cooked better (as judged by customers) and faster (as judged by a stopwatch)! All the cooks needed in order to care more about taking care of customers was to feel connected to them. It’s easy to get morally dozy when you can’t see the effect of your work. And it’s remarkably easy to invite people to greater integrity by simply connecting them with the moral and human content of their actions. Now back to lying and the beanbag toss. In the first round of our experiment, we asked teenagers to report their own scores (which we verified using a hidden camera), and we paid them $1 for each point. Eighty percent of the subjects lied. Some of them lied by more than 200 percent. And ironically, many of these kids had recently attended a Bible study class! In the second round, we tested the power of a self-administered moral wake-up call by simply encouraging participants to think about their own morals. Psychologist Albert Bandura suggests that you and I spend most of our lives morally disengaged. We make choices without thinking about their human consequences. When our phone buzzes as we drive in freeway traffic we feel tempted to read and respond to the message. When we do, it’s not because we don’t care about the safety of ourselves and others. It’s because we aren’t thinking about safety. We’re thinking instead about the profound urgency of the text message reverberating in our mobile device. If cooks make better choices when they feel connected to customers, would teens make better choices if given an opportunity to connect with their conscience? After explaining the beanbag toss to the second-round subjects, we gave them a slip of paper that asked them if they were willing to commit to be honest about their score. Then we invited them to sign a statement committing to do that. All chose to do so. Jake was one of the second-round subjects. After completing his pitiful performance he approached the table, hung his head, and with a self-conscious smile, told the truth: "I got six." When participants were invited to think about their own values and make a voluntary commitment to abide by them, the outcomes were completely reversed. This time, 80 percent of the subjects told the truth. The most powerful way to improve the moral character of our world is not policing, but connecting. We can help one another stay morally engaged by simply connecting people with their own values and with the consequences of their choices. Joseph

The other day, it seemed the whole family woke up a little rushed and even more crabby. As we all tore around the house looking for socks and lunchboxes and jackets, my eyes began that familiar wander toward all the not-yet-Pinterest-worthy spots in the house. Another unwatered plant! That broken window-pane! This out-of-control closet! And the emergency earthquake kit—with expired provisions—that will certainly be the death of us all when the big one hits! My tyrannical mental march around the house ended when it was time to take the kids to school. Drop-offs were quick and I soon found myself alone with my thoughts as I headed home to work side-by-side with my husband for the rest of the day. While driving, I planned how I would hold my hubby accountable for his role in contributing to the mountainous collection of things not-yet-done. But I’d had that conversation before and knew how it would surely go. And I didn’t think I would be enjoying the rest of my day very much. So I decided NOT to give voice to my criticism this day. Instead, when I was least in the mood for it, I walked back into the house and invited Gary to go for a walk with me. And he did! As we walked, we held hands. We talked. He even asked if he could take me out for breakfast. A lovely impromptu date with no mention of household tasks. Later that day, I mentioned I thought there was a lot to do and he agreed. We made a list together and started putting tasks on the calendar. Success! I know Sheryl Sandberg coined the phrase "Lean In" to mean something different, but when I think about how to stop getting in the way of myself at home, it feels like a helpful mantra to lean TOWARD the people I love (when I’m most tempted to give them a good talking-to). Here’s what my new Lean In mantra is teaching me: When the children whine, don’t tell them to stop. Just lean in for a hug. When someone complains, don’t tell them to be grateful. Lean in with empathy. When I feel disrespected, lean in and model respect. When I want to control outcomes, lean in with choices and flexibility. As my ever-wise husband likes to gently remind me, not every conversation needs to be a crucial one. As Valentine’s Day approaches, perhaps the best gifts include not just the conversations we need to have, but in some cases, the ones we don’t have. I’m working on it. How about you? Let us know your thoughts in the comments section below.

Dear Crucial Skills, My brother has a small IT business and usually employs four to five people at a time. He recently employed a twenty-year-old college student we’ll call Mark. Because of his girlfriend’s unexpected pregnancy, Mark had to stop studying and finds himself raising a family. His family situation is complex; he commutes about an hour to work and then another hour to the opposite side of the city to his girlfriend’s home. The baby is three months old and there are tensions in their young family. My brother wants to help this young man, but at the same time, finds himself paying good salary to someone who shows up late, leaves early, and has constant distractions at work. Mark is often visibly tired and drowsy. My brother has considered letting him work from home, but I advised him against it. Adjusting Mark’s schedule to part-time is another option, but would mean a pay cut to Mark. My brother knows he is up for a crucial conversation with Mark. What is the best way to approach this? Sincerely, Out of Options Dear Out of Options, This question hits so close to home for me! I have a fifteen-month-old daughter and commute over an hour to VitalSmarts each day. If not for the crucial conversations I use at home everyday to relieve the natural tensions of a blended family (I also have four children from my husband’s first marriage), I could be Mark! Your question brings to mind a question I have often considered—is it possible to bring too much heart to a conversation? It seems clear that your brother has the best of intentions toward Mark. He actually knows what is going on in Mark’s life, which is not something all employers can say. Second, he is actively seeking solutions that would help Mark and considering the impact of those solutions on Mark. Both of these things demonstrate a lot of heart. But does he have too much heart? When do you say enough is enough? Honestly, I think it is impossible to bring too much heart to a conversation or a relationship. An overabundance of caring and concern is never a problem. However, an imbalance of caring and concern is. Years ago, I read a wonderful article about the pitfalls of being a small business owner. One pitfall was caring too personally for the individuals in your employ, who are often also related to you. The author pointed out that small business owners hold on to poor-performing employees too long, often at the expense of other employees. The key then is making sure you are balanced in your concern. In Crucial Conversations, we teach that you assess your motives (Start with Heart) by asking not only what you want for the other person, but also what you want for yourself, for the relationship and for others in the organization. So you must balance your concern for yourself and the needs of others with the needs of Mark. Allowing Mark’s poor performance to persist not only has negative implications for your brother, but it’s also unfair to the others who work for him. So here is some practical advice for your brother and everyone out there who has a "Mark" in their life. First, get really clear on your expectations. What exactly needs to be done? Does it matter how or when it is done? What constraints are you operating under? It is imperative that we challenge our own assumptions about how work is done, the biases we have about different schedules or approaches, and the norms we may be operating under without even realizing it. It is easy to think, "I need someone here from 8 a.m.-5 p.m.," because that is how it’s always worked in the past. But it may be true that it is more about the work getting done than the person being present. Is work from home or flexible work-time an option? If not, why? What are the barriers and are they worth removing? The answers are less important than the clarity around them. For some roles, people absolutely need to be in an office space. Some roles must be from 8 a.m.-5 p.m. That is fine. Just make sure you know why, and that you are clear about your expectations. Next, communicate the gap. Once you are clear in your own mind on the expectations, articulate them for the other person. Make sure Mark is as clear as you are. Then share the gap you see between your expectations and his performance. Make this 100 percent factual. At this point, it isn’t about why there is a gap or even what the gap means. This is solely about clearly communicating the gap. Finally, diagnose what is causing the gap and start brainstorming how you can close the gap. As you do so, make sure you communicate your Mutual Purpose. Your goal should be to close the gap by finding a solution that meets both your expectations and Mark’s needs. Be open to diverse ideas about this. Anything that meets your expectations and Mark’s needs should be discussable, even if it is something you wouldn’t have thought of or aren’t initially comfortable with. One last caveat—it is not your brother’s job to solve this problem by himself. When we care a great deal about someone, we often think we need to figure out the solution and then present it to them like a gift. We think, "Maybe Mark could work from home? Or maybe he could work part-time?" Thinking through alternatives beforehand is not necessarily a bad idea. Just be careful that you don’t unilaterally decide on the solution beforehand. The purpose of the dialogue is to involve Mark in finding a solution, to help Mark understand where you are coming from, and to make sure Mark knows how much you care. This may mean that the conversation is really a series of conversations, one in which you discuss the gap and others in which you brainstorm solutions over time. I wish your brother luck in working through this situation. Emily

Dear David, My company has recently been acquired. Historically, we have enjoyed a great culture, a profitable business, and high employee satisfaction ratings. I’m concerned that when we integrate into the new company, we’ll lose our "secret sauce"—our unique cultural differentiators that have helped us be successful. Do you have any advice for how to avoid this, or at least how to influence the parent company’s culture for the better? Sincerely, In Fear of Losing a Good Thing Dear In Fear, An organization’s unique culture can be a powerful driver of success. At the same time, there are often elements of a culture that hold back the organization. This mix of challenges is especially apparent during mergers and acquisitions. The different cultures have different strengths and weaknesses, and you want to emerge with the best of both. I’m going to use one of our clients, a healthcare organization, as an example. We’ve worked with this organization as they combined several formerly independent hospitals, each with its own culture. Culture lies below the waterline. We use an iceberg metaphor to illustrate the relationship between the visible parts of an organization and its more hidden cultural elements. Above the waterline is the tip of the iceberg you can see. In an organization, this includes explicit goals, strategies, structures, processes, and systems. This is the organization’s not-so-secret sauce. These are the parts that are talked about the most. They are planned, tracked, and evaluated. They are on every leaders’ radar screen. Our healthcare client had a very explicit above-the-waterline goal and strategy. They wanted to become a "destination" health center—a place that would draw patients from several states. This explicit strategy guided their structure (they built a children’s hospital, cancer and heart centers, and a medical school, and purchased several regional community hospitals); it guided their processes (implementing integrated IT systems); it guided their reward systems (creating incentives that encouraged community hospitals to refer patients to their centers of excellence); and it influenced its people policies (switching from using community physicians to using employed physicians). Below the waterline lies the bulk of the iceberg you can’t see. In an organization, this includes implicit norms, values, hidden assumptions, unwritten rules, and behaviors. This is the organization’s secret sauce, its culture. An organization’s culture often goes unseen, unrecognized, and undiscussed. It’s like the adage, "fish discover water last." An organization’s culture is often derived from local regional norms, professional practices, values the founders held, and the like. It’s a source of great strength and vitality, but can also include contradictory and unproductive elements. Because culture lies below the waterline, it is often ignored or neglected by leaders—especially during times of change. And this is certainly the case during mergers and acquisitions. Here is the problem: most leaders focus too exclusively on above-the-waterline strategies for change. Yet, the most typical dangers—the obstacles that sink change efforts—lie below the waterline. Change plans run into cultural norms, and as Peter Drucker is credited with saying: "Culture eats strategy for breakfast." Our healthcare client also had to deal with many cultural elements. For example, many of the community hospitals they purchased felt as if they’d been "taken over." Many of these small hospitals had been founded by religious orders (from several different religions), and saw their secret sauce as being a sacred sauce—not something they wanted to lose. Identify Your Secret Sauce. While culture includes norms, values, hidden assumptions, and unwritten rules, it is expressed through behaviors. Behaviors are the key. The rest—the norms, values, etc.—are the influences that create and maintain the behaviors. When dealing with culture, we begin with behaviors. Specifically, we look for what we call vital behaviors. These are behaviors that are linked to many others. They are nodes in a network of behaviors. When you move a vital behavior, it brings many other behaviors along with it. We helped our healthcare client identify vital behaviors related to patient safety, quality of care, patient experience, and employee engagement. In this case the senior team identified two: 1. Speak up whenever you have a concern, regardless of your role or position. 2. Hold each other accountable, regardless of role or position. These vital behaviors were the secret sauce the overall organization needed. Some of the different hospitals and professions within the organization already demonstrated these vital behaviors at a highly reliable level, while others didn’t as much. And the influences—the norms, values, hidden assumptions, and unwritten rules that supported or undercut the vital behaviors—were different for each part of the organization. Conduct a Six-Source Diagnosis. Identify the influences that are keeping problem behaviors in place. Look for obstacles in each of the Six Sources of Influence™. For our healthcare client, the data helped senior leaders identify the obstacles that kept people from speaking up and holding each other accountable. But we wanted more involvement in the assessment process. We brought together groups of opinion leaders and formal leaders from across the hospitals and had them identify obstacles. Altogether, more than five hundred formal and informal leaders participated in these workshops. And these workshops weren’t outsourced to consultants or HR. The entire senior team led each workshop—sending a powerful message about their priorities. Below are a few of the obstacles participants identified: • Some people didn’t want to "hold others accountable." They saw that as management’s job. • Some people didn’t know how to speak up without sounding disloyal. • Some people didn’t want others from "lesser professions" to hold them accountable. • Some accountability conversations required management support or support from respected peers. This support was spotty in places. • People thought promotions went to those who "kept their heads down" and "stayed out of trouble." • There weren’t many times, places, or opportunities for feedback and accountability conversations. Build a Six-Source Change Plan. The teams identified five to ten robust strategies in each of the Six Sources of Influence. Below are a few examples of the strategies they identified: • Personal Motivation: Have staff rotate into areas they support, so they experience the challenges by standing in others’ shoes. • Personal Ability: Formal and informal training in speaking up and holding others accountable. Create scripts for specific patient situations. • Social Motivation: Have managers and opinion leaders lead the training to show their support. • Social Ability: Identify physician champions to support the norms on each unit. • Structural Motivation: Create small and simple rewards to recognize people for speaking up. • Structural Ability: Create regular times and places for crucial conversations. Use posters, screensavers, coffee cups and the like to remind people of the new norms. The organization tracked this initiative at three levels: 1. They tracked how the six-source strategies were being implemented. 2. They tracked the vital behaviors, using a quarterly pulse survey that assessed whether people were speaking up and holding others accountable. 3. They tracked the results—impacts on patient safety, quality of care, patient experience, and employee engagement. Their results have been stellar. They’ve achieved dramatic reductions in hospital-acquired infections and patient falls; they’ve improved several key measures of quality; they’ve moved into the top ten percent on patient experience scores; they’ve reduced turnover; and they’ve achieved consistently high scores on employee experience. This has been a lengthy answer because I want to do justice to your question. We create our organization’s culture, but the "we" needs to include senior leaders, managers, supervisors at all levels, and opinion leaders from across the organization. It is truly a team effort. We at VitalSmarts have helped several organizations navigate this journey with great success. At an individual level, I suggest you begin by reading our book Influencer and attending Influencer Training. David

https://static.vitalsmartscdn.com/kerryingon/BorderGuards.mp3 Unintended consequences—we’ve all experienced them. You have a well-intended idea, give it a whirl, and then something unpleasant results. For instance, you’re trying to assist a colleague at work and you end up slowing things down. Or perhaps you help a friend write code and insert a bug into the program. Or perhaps you point out that a new employee is doing something wrong and he ends up getting knocked out and dragged feet first down a half-dozen stairs while his head bangs on the cement steps. You know, stuff like that. It was 1971 and I had just been put in charge of the clothing locker located at the Coast Guard’s boot camp in Alameda, California. It was our team’s job to outfit new recruits with their uniforms. This would have been fairly easy had it not been for one tiny problem. We weren’t the first to see the recruits. By the time we began our work with them, they were frightened to death. They would stand stiff and zombie-like and be fitted poorly. A few weeks later, many would have to return to be refitted which was time-consuming and expensive. If only we could encourage recruits to relax—be less zombie, more Gumby. So I suggested to my boss that we stop the traditional practice of forcing initiates to strip down and stand unclothed at the beginning of the fitting. From my boss’s reaction, you would have thought I had suggested that we have the recruits put on prom dresses and dance with velociraptors. "Not stand naked?" my boss exclaimed. "Why, it’s tradition! If you want to build men, first you have to tear them down. What better way than through humiliation?" "But it’s hard to measure and fit them accurately when they’re humiliated and nervous," I explained. "What if we find a way to make the recruits laugh? You know, tell a joke or something." So it became part of my job to "do something" to make the recruits laugh. To get a feel for the humor quotient of the recruit audience we faced every week, consider what they did the five days before they marched into the clothing locker. From sunup to midnight, boot-pushers screamed at them nose-to-nose while calling them flattering nicknames like "maggot" and "puke." Sometimes they were even marched into the estuary, rifles held over their heads, until someone nearly drowned. As the next group of recruits dragged their terrified selves into the clothing locker, I was all set to tell a joke to get them to laugh, relax, forget their recent brush with death, and be easily measured. Luckily, an opportunity presented itself within minutes. As the platoon of sixty young men stood there sans clothing, I noticed that one of them was starting to put on his newly issued undershorts backwards. Seizing the moment, I pointed out that the fellow in question didn’t even know how to put on skivvies! Ha, ha, wasn’t that a real stitch! Fifty-nine pairs of eyes darted to the singled-out trainee—as if staring at a prisoner climbing the gallows. The boot-pusher who had been training them ran over to the skivvy-confused recruit and pushed him so hard that the recruit fell backwards and knocked his head on the cement floor. He was out like a light. A few minutes later, when the medical team arrived, they saw that the injured party was "only a recruit," so they grabbed the unconscious fellow by his feet, dragged him across the room and down the cement stairs—head thumping all the way. Good intentions—bad outcome. I had wanted frightened initiates to relax but ended up putting a fellow in the infirmary. Fortunately, the young man quickly recovered and graduated with his unit, but the remaining guys in his platoon didn’t exactly relax. Watching their colleague’s head bounce down the stairs didn’t have the calming effect I was hoping for. Our ultimate goal for changing the outfitting experience had been to turn the clothing locker into a safe haven. This was not simply for measurement purposes, but because none of us working there wanted to contribute to the harsh treatment that was central to recruit training. We had all experienced it, hated it, and hadn’t bought into the notion that recruits needed to be broken before they could be shaped into men. Pushing recruits to the limit—that was all okay—but abuse wasn’t. We also knew we couldn’t change the entire boot camp experience by ourselves. Nevertheless, we figured we could at least create a refuge where individuals were treated respectfully. We could stand at the border between the clothing locker and the rest of the base, and do our best to maintain a professional and respectful atmosphere. Sadly, I didn’t know how to be a border guard. But for the next year I was determined to learn how. Over time, I discovered dozens of methods that allowed me to be an effective border guard. And eventually we were successful in creating a safe clothing locker. Most of us assume the role of border guard more often than we might think. As parents, we refuse to embrace some of our own parents’ bad habits, which is good news for our kids. We do the same at work. We refuse to use guilt, threats, or looks of disgust to motivate. We filter out the bad and nurture the good. But doing so isn’t easy. Border guards frequently question their efforts. Can they really make a difference without any formal authority or power? And what if lots of people around them act in unhealthy ways? Can they have an impact? What if their efforts to make improvements actually create problems? The good news is, border guards make change possible. Organizations don’t change one morning when 1,200 people awake and—voilà—simultaneously start acting differently. Changes typically take place in small groups that are led by leaders (formal or informal) who play the role of border guard. In fact, that’s how the Coast Guard’s boot camp was eventually transformed into an organization that now leads the country in human performance technology. As a final note—sometimes the borders you defend are small yet extraordinarily important. For instance, your ex-spouse or current life partner routinely chooses abuse over dialogue. Yet you refuse to respond in kind. You’re trying to create a haven for yourself and your children—not a toxic holding tank. And it’s hard. You don’t have control of others’ behaviors—just your own. You may feel hopeless and outnumbered. Yet you still stand watch. Fortunately, you aren’t alone and it isn’t hopeless. There are thousands of border guards out there who do their best to transform their homes, work groups, and companies into healthy harbors—and the world benefits from their tireless efforts. I heartily applaud those of you who have a vision of what you believe your family and work culture can and should be, the courage to defend it, and the savvy to make it happen. I congratulate you for standing at the border between your hopeful haven and the harmful world around you and boldly proclaim, "Not on my watch!"

"If your best buddy jumped off a bridge, would you jump too?" Too often, the answer is yes. Patients die because nurses and doctors who know better go along with bad decisions. Planes crash because crew members go along with plans they know could kill them. Organizations fail because employees sit on their hands in meetings—going along to get along. Social influence can turn geniuses into fools. However, there’s an easy way out of this trap. We decided to demonstrate the problem by repeating a classic conformity study from the 1950s. We sat seven teenagers around a table and asked each in turn to answer a very simple question. "Which of the three lines on this poster—Line A, B, or C—matches the line on the other poster?" The answer was very obviously Line C. It was the only line that was even close. But here’s the trick—the first teenagers to respond to the question were confederates. They were working for us . . . and we told them to give the wrong answer. They all picked Line B. This answer was obviously wrong, but we were interested in how the group’s answer would affect the final person. The actual subject was not in on the trick. What would the subject say? Nearly two out of three subjects went along with the crowd. They picked the obviously wrong answer. Afterward, we asked them whether they knew they were picking the wrong answer and they said, "Yes." They knew the answer was wrong, but they went along anyway, "because everyone else was." This is not dissimilar to what Solomon Asch found with adults; we tend to go along with the group—even when we’re confident that the group is wrong and even if we’re fairly certain that our conformity will come back to hurt us! Social influence is tough to buck. Though we had finished interviewing the subjects, we weren’t quite done with our experiment. In the next round we made a tiny adjustment. We asked one of the confederates to express polite doubt about the group’s answer. The confederate said something similar to, "I might have seen it differently. I think it’s C." This polite doubt had an astounding impact on our results. In this condition, nineteen out of twenty subjects gave their actual opinion—they were honest! Here’s the BS you can use. We have an innate fear of being shunned by valued groups. But even if you feel like you’re the odd person out, don’t stifle your concerns. Simply express them respectfully. It turns out this small dissent can provide powerful permission to the silent concerns of others. You don’t have to risk being an outcast in order to test your concern. You don’t have to scream and yell. You don’t have to call others names. The quiet, polite expression of doubt can turn the rest of the group from zombies into thinkers. David

Oh, the Vegas Rule. What a simple little phrase: "What happens here, stays here!" Being raised in Nevada, I always enjoy a solid reference to the state of my heart (feel free to join me in the first verse of "Home Means Nevada" if you’re a Nevadan at heart, or take a short Google field trip to enjoy someone else singing it in case you’re not familiar). Now that you’re back from your mini parenthetical field trip, what, if anything, does this have to do with training? Well it’s only one of the most commonly invoked ground rules by trainers to insure confidentiality in a class. And I’ve noticed an upswing in the number of trainers who include this rule during the expectations—setting portion of their classes. I think it provides participants some comfort to know that anything discussed with their learning partner won’t leave that room. And unfortunately, all too often it never does. Participants work on tough messages, practice useful skills, and then, "what happened there, stays there." They treat their application case-related discussions as a guilty pleasure only to be indulged in the secret, dark corners of a training room. And since they miss the opportunity to further grow and develop their skills with a real world application, they are left with vague, but positive recollections of a safer place where all skills were good, and all conversations productive—if only they could transport back to the safety of the classroom experience. So as much as it pains me to even allow the words to escape my mouth, you need to be actively working on ways to counteract the long-term affects of the Vegas Rule. And make sure you’re approaching it in a balanced manner. Be very clear that while participants won’t be required to "go public" with all of the details of their learning partner discussions during the class, the whole point of the training is to make sure that "what happens here, transfers to there," wherever their "there" happens to be.

Dear Joseph, My sister is the executor of my parents’ estate. When my dad died last May, the estate went to my mom who is living with my sister. Recently, my sister helped my mom re-write her will. The new will leaves all of the acreage of my parents’ property and sole decision-making authority for distribution of all other assets to my sister. When I talked to my sister about our parents’ estate she said she believes no one in the family deserves another dime. I think it is wrong to have such a partial fiduciary for the estate and would like to discuss this with my mother. How should I do that? Signed, A Way for the Will Dear Way for the Will, Please hang with me for the next few paragraphs. It might be hard here at the start. One look at your question leaves me worrying that your sister is setting herself up for big problems—either perceived or real. Either she may play an inappropriate role in the division of the estate, or she may unwittingly act in ways that make it likely you and others will feel that way. But after a second pass, there are small suggestions that this is a more complicated story with multiple strong and valid concerns. For example, in the facts: • Since your father died, your sister has had primary responsibility for the care of your mother. • Your question raises only issues about estate division and not about shared responsibility. See why I asked you to hang with me? Please don’t take offense. Of course I know nothing—I am only inferring. I believe my primary value to you is not in perfectly understanding the situation but in offering alternative ways of approaching it. These are easier for me to offer due to my detachment and naiveté. So, here goes. • Focus on what you really want. These situations bring up all of the old victim, villain, and helpless stories of your youth. Perceived inequities, rivalries, and disappointments of yesteryear can be triggered in an instant with the smallest cue. Be very attentive to your own motives—pay attention when you get caught up in winning, being right, avoiding conflict, or punishing. Think deeply about what you really want—for yourself, for others and for the relationships in years ahead. Commit these desires to writing so you can keep them front and center in your mind. I don’t know what is fair or right—but I can assure you that the biggest influence on your future happiness will not be the outcome of estate. Rather it will be your emotions about the estate. And the best way to manage your emotions is to monitor your motives. • Talk about responsibilities first, assets second. Be sure to think about all of the family issues. Discuss them systemically because they are all connected. For example, don’t raise issues about who gets the farm without validating its connection to who has worked the farm. If your energy is all about asset distribution, this should give you pause to reexamine your motives. If your motives are right, the estate will be an element of your conversation not the soul of it. • Empathize deeply. Before opening up conversations with mom, sister, or other siblings I recommend you take yourself through a powerful empathy exercise. On various sheets of paper, write the names of each family member who has a stake in these issues. Then, one at a time, become that person. Underneath each person’s name write out their concerns, feelings, needs, opinions—as best you can guess them. Make sure you do this from his or her perspective. You will know you have succeeded in empathizing when you feel a reverence and respect for his or her view while writing it. It will feel reasonable. If the writing exercise provokes resentment or resistance in your mind, keep at it. You’ll get there! The purpose of this process is not to cause you to surrender your own interests or needs. Those are important. It is to simply create space to consider the needs and interests of others. • Practice rigorous transparency. Now you’re ready to talk. But by no means should you talk exclusively with your mother. The estate is your mother’s so she is the ultimate decision-maker. But because she may be open to influence from others, be sure to avoid creating rivalries by holding closed conversations. Encourage your mother to be inclusive, if that seems appropriate to her. Let all family members know your broader motives. If someone becomes contentious—validate their concerns. Listen deeply. Empathize. Unilaterally commit to getting a fair hearing for everyone. With all this said, I know there are times when feelings are so deep-seated or motives become so clouded that the future could still be painful. But I am confident that if you keep your own priorities right, and approach these conversations with compassion and understanding, you will reach as good an outcome as is possible. Best wishes, Joseph

New research by Joseph Grenny and David Maxfield shows obsession with posting photos and checking phones corresponds with lower enjoyment. More and more of us are losing connection with our lives in order to earn "likes" and social media praise. We have, in a sense, turned into social media "trophy hunters." Ultimately, the study reveals this obsession with social media trophy hunting isn’t just distracting—it’s dictating lives. Consider: Nearly 3 out of 4 people admit to being rude or disconnected from others because they’re more focused on their phone than on the other person 91 percent have seen a tourist miss enjoyment in the moment trying to get it on social media—and many acknowledge doing the same thing themselves 79 percent have seen a parent undermine their own experience in a child’s life in an effort to capture the perfect post 14 percent have risked their own safety to try and get a good posting So how can we enjoy the moment and overcome social media addictions? Joseph Grenny and David Maxfield offer the following four tips: 1. Look at yourself. Before going to great effort to take a picture, stop and ask, "What would a reasonable third party think of me if they saw what I was doing?" It’s easy to do risky or inappropriate things when caught up in the moment. Reflecting from an outsider’s perspective can help you stay morally centered. 2. Limit your postings. The best way to stop unconsciously intruding in your life is to become conscious of it. Keep track of—and limit—how many things you post. If you post more than once a day, you probably have a problem. Most people appreciate your postings more if they come once or twice a week rather than daily—or more. If you cut off the demand you’ll naturally reduce the supply you create. 3. Snap, look and listen. Far too often, once we snap a picture in an inspiring place, we turn and leave. Fight the impulse to "call it good" just after taking a picture. Slow down. Breathe. Look around. Listen. Engage your senses and enjoy the experience not just the trophy. 4. Take a vacation from your device. Spend a day, evening, or even an hour with some physical distance from your devices. If you feel anxious, you’re on the right track. Once you fight through the initial discomfort, you’ll learn to be present and connected to your immediate environment in a way that will produce genuine happiness and enjoyment. View the results of our study in the infographic below or download a copy for yourself.

Dear David, How should I handle a very opinionated person who says things to me that are hateful and mean? This particular person is so opinionated that I could try giving my point of view until I’m blue in the face and they won’t hear a word I say. When I’ve tried expressing how their comments make me feel, it doesn’t seem to matter to them and they respond with, "Well that’s just the way I feel. That’s my opinion." However, they want to then continue on with the relationship and act like nothing has happened, yet I’m left harboring negative feelings about the hurtful things they’ve said. This relationship is very important to me so I want to get past it. How do I forgive and forget so that the relationship can move forward? Regards, Drowning in Opinions Dear Drowning, This is the point where a parent might say, "Just find better friends." But I’m betting that’s too simple, right? For example, let’s assume that this opinionated person isn’t just a friend—she’s your mom. I’ll try a few suggestions. What do you really want? You say you want to "forgive and forget so the relationship can move forward." This is a worthy goal, but it’s also a goal that demands a lot from you. I’ll focus on the "forgive" part. I’m not sure the "forget" part is as important as "moving forward." Negative stories. This person (let’s say it’s your mother) is telling herself an unflattering story about you—about your character, your capabilities, your motives, or your future. Some of this negative narrative is based on facts, i.e., her experiences with you over the years. But this narrative is also affected by her own strong opinions, which are obviously different from yours. The result is that your mother is more likely to see your flaws than your strengths because they fit the storyline in her head. In addition, instead of giving you the benefit of the doubt, she’s likely to assume and expect the worst—again because that fits her narrative. Next, cope with her negative narrative about you. Take responsibility. Be accountable for the parts of the story that are actually true. For example, if your mother is accusing you of being thoughtless and mean, and she has evidence, then admit it. Apologize. Do your best to repair the damage you’ve done, and then move on. If you don’t own your past, you won’t be able to clean the slate, and earn a fresh start. But don’t expect to ever really earn a fresh start. Your mother’s narrative is based on a long history, and her opinions are bolstered by multiple sources of influence. Center on areas of Mutual Purpose and Mutual Respect. Focus on the parts of the relationship where you have Mutual Purpose and feel Mutual Respect, and then build from there. Focus on commonalities instead of differences. I’m not telling you to avoid touchy disagreements. You won’t hear that from the folks who brought you Crucial Conversations. But don’t turn disagreements into wedges that drive you further apart. Instead, be direct, honest, and frank about your differences, while—at the same time—reiterating Mutual Purpose and Mutual Respect. Remember, you don’t love your mother because of her opinions; you love her regardless of her opinions. Stop using her as a reference for your own self-respect. This is more difficult than it sounds. Quit looking to her for approval in areas where the two of you disagree. Find better ways to determine your self-worth. Decide that her disapproval doesn’t matter to you—at least not as much as it does now. Your mother will continue to make opinionated statements, but you can determine whether her opinions hurt you or not. Make yourself invulnerable to them. Now, influence her opinions. Explain natural consequences. You suggested her opinions are unlikely to change, and you know best. Verbal persuasion is not a very powerful way to change hearts and minds. But here are a couple of suggestions for when she says, "That’s just the way I feel. That’s my opinion." Personal Consequences—natural consequences to herself. Point out the inconsistency between her opinion and the person you love. "I know it’s your opinion, and I respect that. But I don’t think it’s who you really are. I know you as a loving person. When I hear you say something hurtful, I don’t see it as the real you." Social Consequences—hidden victims. Explain the impact she is having on others—that she may not be aware of. "I don’t think you knew that Mary—the eight-year-old at the table—her grandfather died of cancer earlier this month. When you said smokers deserve to get sick, she left the table. I found her sobbing in the bathroom." Model your values. Direct and vicarious experiences are the most powerful ways to change attitudes and opinions. You provide these experiences, so make sure they are positive. For example, imagine that your mother is hearing hateful opinions on TV about a certain aspect of your life, but is seeing that contradicted in the way you actually live your life. Your living example is more powerful than any media. But don’t expect her to change her words—at least not at first. She may be too prideful for that. Instead, look for her to soften her actions. Allow her actions to speak louder than words. I hope these ideas will help, David

By Charles "Chip" Huth Captain, Kansas City Police Department Police officers are frequently faced with challenging decisions that have the potential to dramatically impact the safety of the public and their fellow officers. They are trained to deal with some of the most stress-inducing circumstances imaginable, and a great deal is typically riding on how well they perform under pressure. Among the most critical skills an officer must possess is the ability to artfully engage in high stakes conversations, both with members of the public and their colleagues. Police officers are confronted with the opportunity to courageously address serious issues that impact safety and effectiveness on a daily—and oftentimes—hourly basis. Lacking the Skills Years ago, as a newly promoted supervisor, I was assigned to lead a high-risk tactical operation. While briefing the team, I noticed a veteran officer about to embark on a dangerous auxiliary assignment who was not wearing his body armor. I immediately recognized his decision was in violation of department policy, was ill advised, and could have a disastrous impact on his safety and the safety of his teammates. I felt I should pull him aside and address the issue on the spot, but I was at a loss for how to approach him. Worried that I would bumble the conversation, I chose instead to ignore the situation and hope for the best. While I recognized how potentially damaging my inaction could be, I simply lacked the necessary skills to guide me through what I knew would be a touchy discussion. When faced with the option of taking on this very important issue and risk appearing foolish or overbearing, or staying silent at great cost to the safety of all concerned, I lacked the confidence to make the right choice. Unfortunately, in our business it’s not unusual for a police officer to witness a colleague doing something that is potentially career-ending—whether it be taking miscalculated risks or behaving disdainfully toward a citizen—and fail to address it directly. Moment of Decision Even in a profession ripe with examples of valor and bravery, there is often a moment of decision between recognizing that something important needs to be said, and having the ability to engage with others in constructive dialogue in the face of competing interests. The thoughtful team at VitalSmarts has developed a comprehensive program that bridges that gap. Importance of Training Training in Crucial Conversations provides a helpful set of tools to police officers and supervisors who are faced with issues that challenge their commitment to acting for what is right. Effective communication is a life blood issue for any police agency; failure to engage in critical dialogue can erode trust, and systematically damage accountability. The Crucial Conversations curriculum does an excellent job of exposing the reasons behind our failure to hold ourselves accountable for directly challenging issues on principle. Participants in the course learn the physiological and psychological mechanisms that help drive us to "silence" or "violence" when faced with perplexing issues. These intricate concepts are broken down and explained in simplistic and easy to digest language. Applicable to Law Enforcement Last month I had the opportunity to attend Crucial Conversations training. Immediately I recognized its validity for law enforcement. During the training, we were taught how to look for Mutual Purpose when engaged in vital discussions. This act is imperative in law enforcement—a police department must gain both employee and stakeholder engagement to instill safety and security in the community. In order for a police department to promote engagement, everyone must believe their opinions and ideas are respected and valued as relevant. I found the methodology presented in the training particularly helpful when one is seeking to disentangle the person from the problem—and remain objective and open to influence from alternative perspectives. Taking Responsibility One very important aspect of the training was personal accountability. The facilitator promoted this idea by encouraging us to take responsibility for holding these conversations—rather than expecting our superiors to handle the issue. This practice is essential for law enforcement professionals, especially considering the autonomy of the average officer. Conversations around critical topics need to be handled at the lowest level possible due to the span of control in typical police organizations. Employees must feel empowered to take responsibility for seeking resolutions at the first opportunity. To Better Serve the Community Police officers are all about serving others. They are expected to model respectful and honorable behavior. This responsibility requires that they not only act honorably toward others, but also recognize opportunities to engage in critical dialogue to help others solve their problems. Beyond learning to recognize the need to act (motivation), police officers must be equipped with a skill set to guide them along the path to action (ability). The way in which police officers interact with and communicate with members of the public significantly affects the community’s prevailing opinion about the police. And certain critical interactions with the police—in life and death circumstances—occur in which poorly communicated intentions can lead to tragic results. Training in Crucial Conversations skills provides a template to help drive accountability and communicate intentions and expectations in a way that invites cooperation, increases officer and community safety, and improves neighborhoods and communities. Further comments from Crucial Conversations course facilitator Paul Luster: A significant amount of peace officer training is anchored in principles of officer safety and street survival. Unfortunately, you do not have to watch any news broadcast for a significant amount of time to determine this training is not without great merit. Research has revealed that the daily pressure associated with high stress professions, such as law enforcement, can quickly lead to hypervigilance—a heightened startle response and abnormal awareness of environmental stimuli. Observing the world in this paradigm can often lead to a host of emotional and physical problems. When this occurs, a downward communications spiral is often observed. This not only affects peace officers professionally, but in their personal lives as well. I have recognized this "downward spiral" in numerous co-workers as I have progressed through my own career. I realized department members were damaging relationships with citizens, peers, and loved ones simply because they lacked the skills to hold high stakes conversations in an effective and respectful manner. To put it simply, silence or violence was present in numerous conversations. I searched for a solution and found Crucial Conversations to be a perfect fit. The response to Crucial Conversations has been overwhelming. Participants are excited to leave the training with a skill set specifically designed to allow high stakes conversations to occur in a manner that produces genuine results. Numerous participants have contacted me after attending the course indicating how well the skills work. They no longer resort to silence or violence, but rather utilize the skills to effectively share thoughts and opinions while encouraging others to do the same. Paul Luster is operations supervisor at the Kansas City Police Crime Laboratory and also facilitates Crucial Conversations courses at the Kansas City Regional Police Academy.

https://static.vitalsmartscdn.com/kerryingon/Pablo%20Where%20Are%20You.mp3 Two weeks into my sophomore year of high school, I overheard a student speaking Spanish in the hallway. I was taking a Spanish class at the time and was aware of no student who actually spoke the language, so the sound of a trilled r caught my attention. "I am here on exchange," the stranger explained as I introduced myself. "I am called Pablo and I come from Mexico." And thus began a rather odd alliance. After making small talk for a few minutes, Pablo and I decided he would help me with Spanish and I would help him with English. We completed this feat by tutoring each other as we walked through the halls en route to several classes we shared. One morning, as the school year drew to an end, Pablo said he had been talking to his father on the phone and they had a surprise for me. I was shocked—not because Pablo had a surprise for me, but because he had talked to his father. On the phone. All the way to Mexico. At the Patterson household we used long-distance services solely to report a birth or death. Even then, Dad would pace back and forth as the phone conversation unfolded and shout out numbers as if counting down a rocket launch. "Did someone die?" I asked. "No," Pablo explained "it was just one of our weekly chats." "Holly gazillionaire!" I thought to myself. "Who has international long-distance chats?" It was at this moment I first suspected that Pablo’s parents back in Mexico weren’t driving a dented 55 Chevy like the one parked in our driveway. "As soon as this school year is over," Pablo explained, "Papá said it would be okay for you to spend the month of July with us at our family’s hacienda in the mountains. We could continue our language education, plus it would be fun." "What the heck is a hacienda?" I wondered. "I think you’ll like it there," Pablo continued. "It has stables, tennis courts, swimming pools, boats, a private lake, a landing strip, and more. So what do you think?" "I’ll have to ask my parents," I explained as I tried not to look too eager while jumping up and down and squealing like a six-year-old girl. "Good," Pablo replied, "and while you’re talking to your parents, mention that Papá thinks it’s best if you pay for your own flight." Really? Would a pig be soaring alongside that flight? Because that’s what it would take to get my dad to buy me an airline ticket. And thus ended any hopes I had of spending a glorious month cavorting at a Mexican hacienda. In an effort to save embarrassment (and not hurt Pablo’s feelings), I fabricated a conflict. "That’s the month of our big family reunion," I lied. "Maybe you should invite somebody else from school." "But you’re my best friend," Pablo said. "It would be more fun at the hacienda with my best friend." I was his best friend? I had never even invited Pablo over to our house. We didn’t play poker on Friday nights. We didn’t hang out. We had only talked in the hall—and then mostly about grammar. We were acquaintances, at best. I don’t remember what I said to Pablo that day as I tried to gracefully decline his generous invitation. I do remember wondering if Pablo had been lonely and I hadn’t even noticed. More importantly, what kind of a friend is someone who doesn’t even know he is a friend? Decades passed until one day our ten-year-old granddaughter Rachel once again brought to my attention the fact that making friends can be tricky. After returning with her family from a stint overseas, Rachel had entered school mid-semester and was having trouble finding a playmate. At lunch she would approach each clutch of girls her age and politely ask if she could play with them. Each said no. Rachel continued with this tactic for two weeks until she finally gave up. When my daughter told me about this, I felt sick. The image of a sweet little girl being rejected over and over tore at my heart. "Teachers need to watch for that," I thought, "or a kid could be scarred for life." "Schools aren’t staffed for that kind of monitoring," explained my neighbor who was teaching school at the time. "Besides, you can’t force kids into friendships. They have to form naturally." My thoughts turned to these two events after hearing several news stories—all reporting that feelings of loneliness, isolation, and social discomfort are on the rise (and not merely with exchange students and late arrivers). Apparently electronic devices are making it difficult for some individuals to make human connections and to enjoy them once they do. Young people are particularly vulnerable. Since many of today’s youth spend a good portion of their time silently playing side-by-side at game consoles and then when they do talk, doing so via text, many are entering the workforce with an aversion to face-to-face (and group) interactions. According to one report, many Millennials appear as if they’d rather be texting their responses during a job interview than talking in person. Others are having trouble empathizing. Still others are feeling lonely. Having watched what happened to Rachel a few years back, my own offspring are doing their best to combat the effects of both machine and human-based isolation. To begin with, they ensure that their kids belong to sports, music, academic, and/or special-interest groups where participants are required to (1) meet face-to-face, (2) talk, and (3) cooperate. Nothing else will do. "Think about participating in band," my daughter explained. "Band members know who they’ll sit with at lunch before they even show up at high school. That’s a big deal." I mentioned this to my fifteen-year-old neighbor and he eagerly responded, "I went to band practice the summer before high school and when I nervously walked through the high school doors the first day of school, I realized that I knew dozens of my classmates and had lots of friends! All in the band." His brother explained that he had experienced something similarly comforting, only with the robot club. Clubs and teams can be a great help in providing social experiences, but not without work. Make sure that as youngsters gather to build robots or shoot baskets, they also learn how to interact effectively. Blend music, sports, and science skills with tutoring in social skills. Blend physical fitness with training in social fitness. Watch to see if participants know how to carry their part of a conversation, work through differences of opinion, graciously include a new or shy member, talk comfortably in a group, and encourage teammates who are struggling. When you observe problems, teach solutions. For years we’ve helped young people study math, biology, and literature. What a blessing it would be if we started teaching them how to bond with peers, strengthen groups, and make life-long friends. And Pablo (wherever you may be), do you still own that hacienda? I was just wondering.

Dear Joseph, You have previously written that, "Bosses will listen to anyone if they feel safe with them." You’ve also said that one of the conditions for safety is that the boss feels respected. Here’s my problem: I DON’T respect my boss. Should I try to fake it? Signed, Working for an Oaf Dear Working for an Oaf, You are asking a profound question and I will treat it with all the reverence it deserves. You are absolutely right that THE barrier to you creating safety with your boss is your own disrespect for him or her. What you may not realize is that your disrespect might be much more about you than it is about your boss. Respect is a heck of a lot more fluid than we think. You made the statement, "I don’t respect my boss." That makes it sounds as though your disrespect is a fixed fact—that it is the natural result of his or her attributes (he or she is dishonest) or behaviors (he or she picks his or her nose during meetings)—and is, therefore, out of your control. This is wrong. Here is the principle: It is impossible to disrespect a whole person. The only way you can maintain disgust for another is to hold only his or her flaws in your mind—assiduously avoiding acknowledgement of his or her redeeming qualities. It is easy to despise the caricature of a person we concoct. But please notice it is you that concocts it. You do so by excising another’s back story, their good days, and their virtues, while fixating on their vices, bad choices, and weaknesses. I saw profound evidence of this six months ago. I witnessed a remarkable shift in two people’s view of each other. One I will call Cathy—a prosecutor in a county attorney’s office. One day, a new case appeared on Cathy’s desk that made her smile. It was for a thirty-five-year-old repeat felon named Jason. During her years as a prosecutor, Cathy had had the "pleasure" of locking him up a number of times. She particularly enjoyed doing it because the first time she met Jason—seventeen years earlier—he had assaulted her. She was a policewoman at the time. When she encountered Jason, he was high on meth and became violent toward her. She told me, "I was horrified that day when I put my hand on my service revolver to withdraw it from the holster. The thought occurred to me, ‘I may have to kill him.’" She never forgot Jason. After becoming a prosecutor, she took every chance she got to lock him up for as long as she could. And she did a good job. Between ages eighteen and thirty-five, he spent thirteen years in prisons and jails. Cathy had decided Jason was a "dirt bag"—a hopeless career criminal. For his part, Jason developed a clear impression of Cathy. If you’ll allow me to sanitize this a bit—he referred to her as "that witch." When he would look across the courtroom and see her, he felt pure loathing. In his mind, she was a power-hungry jerk who took advantage of those with poor representation. All of this changed in July 2014, when Jason and Cathy had an unexpected conversation. Different from previous occasions—when their conversation was constrained by legal posturing—it was just the two of them telling their stories. This time, Cathy listened. This time, Jason listened. Jason described life with a prostitute mother. Being molested by her customers. Joining a gang for refuge. Using drugs to anesthetize his aching mind. Learning violence as a survival skill. He confessed to his self-loathing and the deep shame he felt for the person he had become. Cathy was moved. For her part she described the trauma of his attack seventeen years earlier. She detailed the testimonies of his victims from over the years—and the feeling of obligation she had to defend their rights. When Jason left that jail interview room, Cathy looked different. As Cathy drove from the jail, she had a sobering new view of Jason—a more complete view. While neither will join a bridge club together anytime soon, both had a new found respect for one another that came from demolishing the simplistic view that had sustained their mutual resentment. Can you respect someone you don’t respect? Oh yes! But that cannot happen until you own the fact that your disrespect is just that—yours. You are sustaining it by maintaining a distorted story of the other person. Let me be clear. I am not suggesting that you should put up with your boss’s dishonesty, incompetence, rudeness—or whatever the presenting problems are in your case. My only point is that you are in no position to take healthy action until you own your side of the problem. Once you can see your boss as a human being, worthy of civility and respect, you will be able to choose rather than react. Then you can decide how to take responsibility for your own needs. You have two options: Set boundaries. You can have a crucial conversation with your boss in order to find a way to navigate his or her obvious flaws. Decide how to set boundaries that will allow you to work positively—and perhaps even influence your boss to become better. Fire your boss. You may decide that setting boundaries to make things workable would require more energy than you are willing to invest. That could be a perfectly healthy decision. But if you have "mastered your story," you will not blame your boss for your decision to leave. You will not waste energy after you leave trashing your boss to others. You will leave taking responsibility for your choice and seeing the boss as someone kind of like you—a human being with both beauty and flaws. You will know you have graduated from telling a Villain Story to telling a healthy one when, like Jason and Cathy, your moral certainty is replaced with curiosity, and your disgust gives way to compassion. I find I am most understanding of others’ weaknesses when I am most aware of my own. I am most triggered by weaknesses in others that, at some fundamental level, reflect shame I feel toward myself. Disrespect is not inevitable. It is a fragile fiction we sustain with a story we tell. Sincerely, Joseph P.S. For simplicity, I did not qualify my response to include figures of pure evil. I believe they exist. I do not respect them. But I think they are very few in number.

Dear David, I’ve been looking for a job for over two months now, and I think one of my main problems is answering the question, "Why did you leave your last position?" I resigned, but felt forced to because of a toxic environment following my reporting of sexual harassment by my boss. For the first time in my thirty-four-year career, I was suddenly being written up repeatedly. Still, despite letters of support by other supervisors, the bad behavior by my boss continued. Human resources was no help, so I left. It is difficult to answer these questions in a positive way to potential employers and I certainly don’t want to get into any of the sordid details. Help! Sincerely, At a Loss Dear At a Loss, I’m sorry you’ve had your career derailed in this way, but you are not alone. We get questions from many readers who find themselves in similar situations. I hope your experience and your willingness to share it will help others. My suggestions will stem from two basic principles: 1. Don’t speak ill of your past employer. 2. Focus on the contributions you will make to your prospective employer. Homework. Assume that, if your interview goes well, your future employer will want references. And they will expect at least one reference from your latest employer. You mention letters of support from other supervisors. My recommendation is to ask one of these supporters to write a reference letter you can keep on file. Give this person an outline of your strengths and the job experiences that demonstrate those strengths. This letter can substitute for a recommendation from your supervisor. Make Lemonade Out of Leaving. Even though you didn’t want to leave your last job, it’s likely there are personal and professional advantages for having left. For example, you’ve gained exceptional experience in one industry/organization, and now you have the opportunity to bring your skills to a different industry/organization with new opportunities and challenges. Use this change of scene to reignite your passion for your career, and share this passion in your interview. Explain how your experience in a different industry/organization will bring a new perspective to a new organization. Don’t Badmouth Your Past Employer. By the time you get to an interview, the people you’re meeting with have already read your resume, and have decided you’re qualified—at least on paper. What they are looking for in the interview is a good fit and any disqualifiers. Your goal should be to show them that you are a strong team player—someone they will enjoy working with. Describing a toxic work environment at your past employer creates a big question mark. It makes them wonder whether you played a role in creating the toxic environment, and whether you would bring that toxicity into their organization. Don’t go there. Catalog Your Competencies. Consider the skills you bring. It might be helpful to categorize them, so you don’t miss any. Then, once you’ve determined your skills, identify an experience or project that can serve as a proof point for each skill. Remember, employers are buying performance, not potential, so you need to be able to demonstrate how you’ve applied each skill. Below are a few skill buckets to consider: Task Specific—skills that apply to the daily tasks you do: programming, customer service, financial, legal, etc. Context Specific—knowledge you have about the industry, business trends, current risks, and opportunities, etc. Transferable Skills—your talent for writing, analysis, project management, performance improvement, presentation skills, etc. Personal Skills—your experience with leadership, teamwork, conflict management, motivation, initiative, accountability, etc. Develop Your Brand. Imagine you are a product that you are marketing to others. What is your brand? Your brand includes who you are, what you do, and how you do it. It should be your unique promise of value—what you are known for. Consider your personal values, your personal strengths, and what makes you an outstanding contributor. PricewaterhouseCoopers has created a detailed workbook that can help you create your personal brand. I recommend it—even to readers who aren’t looking for a job. Urgency and Patience. You’ve been job-hunting for two months now. I’m sure that seems like forever, but it’s really not. And you’ve already gotten some job interviews. That’s a great sign, because it means you have what employers are looking for. Keep your job search going at an urgent pace. Keep networking, get those applications in, and keep honing your interviewing skills. At the same time, practice patience with yourself, your family, and your prospective employers. The hiring process is slow and deliberate. Find ways to build self and family time into this forced vacation. Best Wishes, David

Have Dear Crucial Skills, I have a team of three individuals. They are all hard workers and have been with the company for a long time. I have been their manager for almost five years now. Over the last year, we have gone through some organizational changes that have made them feel, as they have stated, "undervalued" and "overworked." In an effort to boost morale, I have tried to provide them with random perks to show how valued they are and how much I appreciate them. However, it seems like they are now starting to take advantage of my kindness. For example, I gave each of them alternating Fridays throughout the summer to leave at 3:00 p.m. as long as there wasn’t anything major pending. Now I am getting emails like "I am leaving on Thursday at three because I have a something I need to do." Or, "I am going to work from home today since it is my Friday to leave early anyway." How can I pull back from some of these "perks" without them spiraling down into their previous feelings? Regards, Perk ‘Em Up Dear Perk ‘Em Up, Managing employees who feel "undervalued" and "overworked" is common. In 2011, the American Psychological Association reported that 48 percent of U.S. employees feel "undervalued" at work. Much has been written about what organizations can do to foster a healthy work environment. Yet the question remains—what can a single manager of three people do? Individual managers don’t have all the levers that organizations do. They can’t change the compensation system, the building layout, or whether there is free food in the cafeteria and an onsite masseur. However, most of us intuitively know what research has shown: people quit their managers not their jobs. A manager has a huge impact on employee engagement and retention—even more than a Ping-Pong table in the break room. So, what is a manager to do? First, get really, really clear on what you want and why you want it. As a manager myself, I have been highly influenced by the work of Clayton Christensen. I will always remember reading an article by Dr. Christensen in which he described what the core of management is—giving people the opportunity to learn, grow in responsibilities, contribute to others, and be recognized for achievements. What is absent from this list? Free sodas in the break room. I believe that one of the most important things I do as a manager is making sure my people go home feeling good at the end of each day. I want them to feel as if they have accomplished something, been recognized for it, and contributed positively to others. I want to send them home that way because the most important work we do is not in our organizations—it is in our homes, our families, and our communities. Sending someone home to her six-year-old daughter feeling overworked and undervalued creates an unproductive home dynamic. So, that is what I really, really want—for work to get done in a productive manner under conditions in which employees thrive. Our friend and colleague Rich Sheridan, CEO of Menlo Innovations, would sum this up more succinctly: "I want to create joy in the workplace." The benefit of getting clear on this is that it allows you to put into perspective all the things that don’t matter. If work is getting done productively and people are taking joy home to their families, why does it matter if someone leaves early? Why would I feel taken advantage of if someone assumes they can work from home? It only matters if I think my role as a manager is to make sure people are in their offices from 9 to 5 each day. That is not the role I choose as a manager. Second, understand what really creates joy, satisfaction, and value in the workplace. In all honesty, it is probably not what you think it is. It is a very human tendency to look first to perks, rewards, and incentives to motivate, recognize, and engage people. I do this in my own life. When I have a hard task that I am tempted to put off, I promise myself a reward: finish this newsletter article on time and I can treat myself to that chocolate-dipped Oreo I have been craving. When it comes to dealing with others, we do this as well. Need to motivate your teenager to clean his room? Withhold his allowance until it is cleaned to your satisfaction. Want your employees to feel valued? Let them have "early-out" on summer Fridays. Don’t mistake me—rewards, incentives, and perks are important influence tools in our manager toolbox. But they can backfire, especially when used in isolation. If all you do is offer a reward, you miss out on other more powerful sources of motivation and engagement. As you think about ways to engage "overworked and undervalued" employees, consider these other sources of motivation. 1. Get things done. Again, I learned this from Rich Sheridan. People love to get things done. There is incredible satisfaction that comes from checking off an item on the list of things to do—the ability to look at a finished result and say, "Yep, I did that today." As Sheridan says, "Done releases endorphins, the body’s natural opiate, and it’s addictive." People want to come to work and finish something. But too often, process and people get in the way of getting things done. So how can you as a manager make sure you are taking down barriers and allowing your people to actually accomplish work? 2. Connect to what they value. This is especially important in times of organizational change. It is imperative that managers find ways to connect the work that is being done to the things that people value most. Not only do people want to get work done, they want to get meaningful work done. Make sure you find ways to regularly and powerfully connect the work people are doing to the value that work provides. 3. Recognize achievement. When you do give a reward of some kind, make sure to link it to a specific behavior or achievement. This is different than just giving someone a perk—it is frequent, specific, and timely. It requires a manager to have a great deal of insight into what is important to an employee and how best to recognize someone. And it is not recognition for recognition’s sake. It is not saying, "Good job for showing up to work today." Managers should link recognition to specific behaviors, e.g., "I really appreciated how much time to you took to address that client’s need. You demonstrated a lot of empathy." Third, have a conversation. If you believe that employees are behaving in ways that are dragging down the organization or your relationship, talk to them about it. Be transparent and treat your employees as your equals. It is absolutely fine to approach them as a group and say, "You three have done wonderful work this past year as we have navigated through these organizational changes. I know there were times when you felt overworked and undervalued. I attempted to mitigate some of those feelings by introducing the policy of leaving at 3:00 p.m. on alternate Fridays during the summer. Now, I notice, there are times where you are taking off early on Thursdays or working from home on Fridays. I don’t want to curtail a perk that is meaningful to you and helps you know how much you are valued. At the same time, I am starting to feel like you are taking advantage of the initial perk by stretching it past the original boundaries. Can we talk about things I can do to help you feel valued and recognized for the great work we do, while also not feeling like things are being taken too far?" When you involve them candidly in the discussion, you can surface the issues and come to a joint resolution that everyone will be committed to. Best of luck! Emily

To help more of our readers with their crucial conversations, accountability discussions, and behavior change challenges, we introduced the Community Q&A column! Please share your answers to this reader’s question in the comments below. Dear Crucial Skills, How do you tell someone that they are no longer a fit for the demands of their current position? I need to tell an employee that they should step down into a lesser role or else they may end up losing their job due to poor performance. Sincerely, Stuck Manager

Dear Joseph, I was raised in an abusive home—both physically and emotionally—and after many years of estrangement, my abuser would like to have a relationship with me. Now that I am expanding my own family, she is very interested in doing what it takes to be part of my and my children’s lives. I don’t know if she has truly changed, but if she has, I would love for my children to have a grandparent in their life. I am well versed in Crucial Conversations, but I honestly have no idea where to start. How do you rebuild Safety and Mutual Respect that has degenerated to the point of non-existence? Signed, To Forgive or Protect? Dear Forgive or Protect, I am so sorry about the pain of your early life. No one should have to endure that kind of torment. Which is why I am confident you will step up to the advice I have to offer for the sake of your children. When you were younger, you were completely vulnerable. You needed someone to protect you—and no one was there. Our primary duty to our children is to ensure their physical and emotional safety. Next comes love and nurturing. But basic safety is foundational. Grandparents are great—but safety comes first. You know what it’s like to look to people in your life and be unable to trust them for this most basic of needs. You now have the chance to get that right for your children. Every decision you make needs to put their safety first. If gaining a grandparent introduces even a small chance of preventable harm, the grandparent goes. With that in mind, here are some thoughts about how you might approach this situation. 1. If you can’t talk about it, it’s not over. My first question is, have you been able to thoroughly discuss the abuse you experienced with this person? If not, then you can have no confidence that the behavior you saw in the past will not repeat itself. Do not offer your trust until there is acknowledgment. This conversation may open your eyes to emotional trauma this individual struggled with as well. You may feel deep empathy for them as a result. But don’t equate empathy with tolerance. A healthy and open conversation is a good start. In fact, it is a prerequisite for building trust—but it is not the end. 2. Use yourself, not your children, as the guinea pig. Even if you are able to honestly discuss the past, you must still test the present. Don’t allow this person to connect with your children until you have sufficient time to rebuild your own trust with them. This could take a year or more. This investment in time might give you a chance to heal from your trauma as well. If she pressures you for access to the grandchildren sooner, but is unwilling to invest in rebuilding trust with you first, I would be concerned she is still in denial about the scale of her challenge and the reality of your abuse. 3. Set boundaries to test for reform. If the time comes that you feel very confident that she can honor you and your boundaries in your relationship with her, I would slowly introduce her to the grandchildren—and do so under controlled circumstances at first. In summary, I would begin the process of building a new relationship by: a) Letting her know you are open to it—in fact, are grateful for her interest in kindling it. b) Giving her a picture of the kind of time and investment you will need from her in order to create it. This will likely be a tricky conversation. She may well feel hurt or defensive by your requests. And I’ll emphasize again, you should judge the likelihood of a healthy relationship in the future by her capacity to engage well with you in this first conversation! I wish you the best as you care for yourself and your precious children. Warmly, Joseph

https://static.vitalsmartscdn.com/kerryingon/French-Fried+Memories.mp3 When I entered the eighth grade in 1959, I was given the option to study either Latin or French. I chose French because from what I understood, the French weren’t dead yet. Miss Limply, the school’s French teacher, launched the first day of class by showing a cartoon of the Three Little Pigs. From the confusing muddle of sounds blaring from the projector, I learned only one word—loup—or wolf. It made me laugh because it was pronounced loo, and in England that’s a toilet. Perhaps French was going to be fun. Sadly, the second day of class brought no new amusing words. Instead, it involved a lot of verb and gender hoo-hah that seemed far too complicated to learn. Especially when my preferred mode of learning was passing notes to the girl who sat next to me. Perhaps I should drop the class before it was too late? The only other elective offered during that time slot was metal shop—which a friend told me consisted largely of burning things in a forge. Let’s see, which would I prefer? Conjugating French verbs or melting American lunch boxes? After two weeks of falling hopelessly behind in French, I said goodbye to Miss Limply, crossed the great cultural divide that separated the language learning center from the metal shop, and began the task of making a cup out of a soup can. To this day, the only thing I recall from my brief brush with French is that "loup" means wolf, and I’ve not once had an occasion to use that tidbit. That’s not entirely true. I did try to sneak "loup" into the conversation one afternoon when I was having lunch with a group of European executives in Munich. We were chatting about American authors and I was keeping up nicely until the conversation turned to European authors of whom I knew nothing. It was embarrassing to see how much these Europeans knew about American culture and how little I knew about anything European. To joke my way out of my egregiously parochial view, I decided to say that I didn’t know much about European authors because I had been raised by wolves. Ha, ha! Get it? Raised by wolves! This entire conversation was taking place in English but, for reasons I’ll never know, I decided that this was the perfect time to impress my European colleagues by using my one French word, loup. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure what the plural was for loup so I said: "I was raised by loupies." My European colleagues thought I said lupus and stared at me with an odd mix of confusion and pity. It was really quite awkward. I had forgotten about these language misfires until the day of my fifty-year high-school reunion when I ran into an old friend, Bernadine Westin. She introduced me to her husband as "her French connection." At first, I had no idea what she was talking about. Bernadine reminded me that during those two weeks I had studied French back in 1959, Miss Limply had passed out the names and addresses of eighth-grade students in France who were eager to be our pen pals. Every month we were supposed to write our pal a chatty letter in French and he or she would write us back in English. This sounded like a lot of work to me so I gladly gave the name and address of my proposed pen pal to Bernadine. She desperately wanted to correspond with someone in Europe, but hadn’t signed up for a language class. Now, some fifty-five years later, Bernadine was thanking me for graciously giving up my chance to make a European connection. Bernadine went on to explain that since 1959, she had faithfully written her French pen pal every month. To this day, the two continue to write each other, occasionally travel together, and (in her own words) embody the meaning of "BFFs." According to Bernadine, all this had transpired, thanks to me! Me, a selfless classmate who had abandoned any hope of a rewarding international experience by giving her my pen pal, without asking for anything in return. I took the praise like a man. That is, I took full credit for something I didn’t actually do. The effort Bernadine put in to being a successful pen pal was truly remarkable. She had to learn French, travel to the post office, buy stamps, mail the letters, and did I mention learn French? But then again, her dedication had earned her something the rest of us never gained—a precious friend from a whole new culture—and an enriching world view. And then it hit me. Everyone should have their own life-long pen-pal! Only without so much work. With the aid of today’s technology, you could just push a button and voilà! There on the screen would appear a live person from France, or China, or Uzbekistan! I’m imagining software that could immediately translate whatever you say, with no confusion or awkward waiting. It would also match your lips to the words your smart device conjures so it would look and feel like an actual conversation. It would be an actual conversation. As an aside, my colleagues tell me that Google Translate and other language recognition software may not be far off in creating something like this. Having meaningful contact with pals from afar would go a long way toward engendering cross-cultural awareness. At a time when many of today’s youth (and adults) are capturing every little thing they do in "selfies," and when narcissism scores are (you guessed it) on the rise, what would it be like if today’s youngsters were in frequent contact and deep conversation with e-pals around the world? Fortunately, lots of young people are doing just that. They have international e-friends, and many are entering language-immersion schools starting as early as the first grade. But what if we turned the best-and-brightest of Silicon Valley to designing the technology required to produce the software I’ve proposed? Once created, we could give a device to every grade-school child in the world—along with an e-pal address of a person they’d be assigned to chat with (e-face to e-face) a couple of times a week. Imagine a world where we’ve all been transformed into a Bernadine. With constant contact from friends abroad, we would gain a deep appreciation for cultural differences along with a true empathy for others’ challenges. Plus we’d know enough about world events and people that we would never again have to say that we had been raised by loupies. Best of all, if negotiations were to break down at, say, a world peace conference and leaders started to consider using forceful methods, they’d fondly remember their e-pal. And so would millions of other people who would have been chatting with their foreign buddies about sports, music, fake vomit, and annoying relatives twice a week since the first grade. Having enjoyed thousands of casual yet curiously bonding conversations with friends from afar, nobody would think of using force (and certainly not violence) as a tool for dealing with "foreigners." So what do you think of my proposal Miss Limply? Mucho clever, right? Mucho clever.

We work in a three-generational workplace. Each generation is different and we often struggle to dialogue well across generations. What tips do you have to bridge this gap in our crucial conversations? First let me compliment you in attempting to proactively seek ways to bridge this "generational gap." Many people have just assumed that the gap is too great or too much trouble. So thanks for taking the time to make this inquiry! You might be interested to learn that VitalSmarts conducted a study early last year called: The Great Generational Divide. This study showed that unaddressed resentment between Baby Boomers, Gen Xers, and Millennials saps productivity by as much as 12 percent. You can see the results of the study here: 
http://www.vitalsmarts.com/press/2014/02/the-great-generational-divide/ Let me make a couple of observations and suggestions to add to these very helpful insights on attempting to engage in dialogue across this generational divide. It has been said that conflict is inevitable, but resentment is optional. We often encounter conflict because our background, our education and experiences differ so greatly. But how we choose to handle these conflicts can either lead to talking it out or acting it out. Start With Heart The greatest skills and strategies designed to bridge these generational gaps will fail if our heart, or motive is not continually focused on the larger picture of finding a way to connect with the other person. This is an exercise in emotional maturity. In the midst of high stakes, opposing opinions, and strong emotions, can we find a way to change the motives of avoiding or attacking to those of listening and learning? Can we come to these generational encounters with a heart of genuine curiosity to learn about others, to lean into their reality and seek first to understand their world? Once you’ve paid attention to your heart and adjusted your motive, the following skills from this research study will serve you well: 1. Make it safe. Begin by clarifying your respect as well as your intent to achieve a mutual goal. 2. Start with the facts. Describe your concerns facts first. Don’t lead with your judgments about others’ age or conclusions as to why they behaved the way they did. Start by describing in non-judgmental and objective terms the actual behaviors that create problems. 3. Don’t pile on. If your colleague becomes defensive, pause for a moment and check in. Reassure him or her of your positive intentions and allow him or her to express concerns. 4. Invite dialogue. After sharing your concerns, encourage your colleague to share his or her perspective. Inviting dialogue will result in greater openness.

Years ago I joined an organization and discovered a character who worked there. He was an interesting blend of wisdom, mischief, creativity, and crazy. You know that type. I’d find him engaged in some strange activity, or distilling some semi-absurd piece of advice, and think, "What in the world??!!?!" I’d walk away and invariably the idea or activity would start to unfold in my mind; and what seemed like utter nonsense started to bloom into genius. So here’s one of his "crazy" ideas. One day I walked into his office for some reason, and he immediately started in with an idea he was toying with. "People who train in short bursts are vastly more effective at creating behavior change." I thought to myself, "Did he just say training in short bursts? What in the world?" I listened politely as he went on to describe that breaking training into small chunks and delivering it over a spaced period of time allows participants to assimilate the learning points and have them incorporate the new ideas into their everyday routine. All the while I was generating reasons why the idea was more crazy than practical. And can you blame me? Even the term "short bursts" was a little on the "far out there" side (ok, maybe a lot on the "far out there" side). Some of my other colleagues confirmed my original thoughts when they came up with the slightly mocking slogan, "Look Mom! I’m training in short bursts!" Fast forward some years. I was working on particularly difficult training rollout design. We were trying to transform training’s image from learning event to learning experience. We need to make sure that leaders, especially the mid-level group, were having more regular learning experiences. I was wrestling with how to do this when it hit me, "We need to take this program and spread it out over a longer period of time. We need to ‘train in short bursts!’" The idea had come full circle. We did it, and it worked. Since that time, a lot of research has emerged confirming the results we experienced in that organizational initiative. Anders Ericsson, for one, in his research, demonstrates the benefit of breaking ideas and concepts into small pieces (I wonder if he researched in short bursts?). It’s a funny thing to consider how what once was a crazy, outlandish, radical idea is now one of the best-proven ways to go about training. So now I say to you, "Go forth and train in short bursts!"

You and I are shockingly easy to manipulate. Decades of social science experiments show that we can be induced to donate or steal, stand for justice or proliferate racism, vote or stay home, torture or pity. It’s time we stopped reading social science for fascinating facts about humans in general, and started using it to navigate our own lives. It’s time we acknowledge how little control we have over our own behavior—and start taking control of the things that control us. Only then will we be the real agents of our own behavior. Only then will we be able to live up to the morals, goals, and aspirations we most cherish. A great place to start taking control of the things that control you is to become an Influence Spotter. As you move about in public, engage with media and interact with others, pick one influence tactic at a time and spend a week learning to spot examples of it. Our research shows that you are least subject to manipulation when you are most conscious of its attempt. For example, if you know someone is raising her voice in order to intimidate you, you may feel a bit less intimidated. Here are four great "spotting" exercises to begin with. They come to us from Stanford Psychologist Albert Bandura. In Bandura’s forthcoming book, Moral Disengagement: How People Do Harm and Live With Themselves, he describes four common ways people like you and me are manipulated into supporting and doing despicable things. To help bring them to life—see if you can spot them in our most recent Behavioral Science Guys experiment. 1. Minimizing the behavior. This is often accomplished by using sanitizing euphemisms to describe what we’re doing that sanitize it. There’s a reason CIA officials insist on referring to waterboarding as "enhanced interrogation" rather than "torture." In our experiment we test whether having a confederate urge teens to "sweeten their score" causes more to compromise their morals than if we call it "lying." 2. Minimizing consequences. In our experiment, the confederate helps subjects minimize the consequences of their choices with advantageous comparisons—for example, "It’s not like we’re killing someone here!" For years tobacco companies attempted to salve consciences by refuting connections between smoking and cancer. The murkier they made the connection, the less repugnant their product appeared. We sometimes minimize consequences in our own minds when we make choices inconsistent with our values—for example, "One ice cream cone won’t cause a heart attack!" 3. Dehumanize victims. Recently, the world was in an uproar about the apparent North-Korean-backed cyber-attack on Sony Studios. The alleged goal was to stop the release of "The Interview"—a comedy depicting an assassination of Kim Jong Un. Absent from all of this moral outrage is appropriate disgust at a comedic representation of the assassination of a sitting head-of-state. Why no outcry? Because we see Kim Jong Un as a ruthless buffoon. He is a caricature not a human—so we give ourselves permission to act toward him in ways we would not toward say, President Obama. Imagine our reaction if another country produced a television sitcom celebrating the kidnap and torture of our sitting head of state. Manipulating the representation of victims is one of the most common tactics practiced on you. Sometimes it’s used in reverse. For example, a study showed that voters are 90 percent more likely to favor protecting a species called the furry-nosed otter than the same creature if called the sharp-clawed otter. Change Sheep-eating Eagle to American Eagle and we are 75 percent more likely to take it under our wing. In our experiment, some teen subjects were told they were competing against a team called "The Rats" while others were told it was simply "Team B." On hearing their name, one boy wryly commented, "That’s an unfortunate name." Notice also that as we debate the use of various coercive methods in the US, we refer to those whom we practice them on as "enemy combatants." An unfortunate name if you want people to consider your humanity. 4. Finally, the granddaddy of all manipulations: moral justification. We are in peril of disconnecting from our conscience when we begin to justify our means with noble-sounding ends. In our experiment, some subjects were offered the chance to donate their winnings to a children’s charity (we did, in fact, make the donation). They were told that the fictitious other team was keeping their winnings for themselves. As subject kids cheated it was common to hear, "It’s for the children!" Dr. Bandura pointed out a painful hypocrisy in our own experiment: "You are justifying lying to kids in order to pursue knowledge—how do you feel about that?" When we loaded our subjects (if you just noted that "subject" is a dehumanizing word you’re already influence spotting!) with all four manipulation tactics they made more than three times as many dishonest choices. Think about it! These aren’t bad kids—these are normal kids being subjected to powerful influence tactics. Their choices were far less about them than about the things controlling them. Which is why you and I need to learn to take control of the things that control us. Now, let me hasten to add that I am not taking a position here on decisions like the manufacture of cigarettes, the use of water boarding, or deception in social science experiments. I have my own feelings on those topics and I suspect you do as well. What I am suggesting is that as you and I sort out our opinions, there are things we and others do that cloud and confuse the moral calculation. If you want to stay connected to your conscience, the best course is to learn to spot these manipulations—both self-imposed and external—and reframe the choice in an honest way. "I am breaking my commitment to myself by ordering a Mucho Grande Mocha Latte. Do I want to do that?" At times, the answer may be yes. But at least it will then be a thoughtful yes. Join me in creating a better and more conscious world by becoming an Influence Spotter. Good Luck, Joseph

Dear Joseph, I find that I struggle with successful interpersonal relationships at work. I continually run into conflict with my teammates as well as my boss, and they don’t end well. I’m starting to feel like a total communications failure. Can you help me understand better ways to rebuild trust and connection with my team? Sincerely, Deflated Team Member Dear Deflated, Thank you for asking such an insightful question. I’ve invited my good friend Dr. Travis Bradberry, author of Emotional Intelligence 2.0, to help me respond to this question. Between the two of us, we’ve spent fifty years studying what makes people successful at work. A persistent finding in both of our research is that your ability to handle moments of conflict has a massive impact on your success. How you handle conflict determines the amount of trust, respect, and connection you have with your colleagues. Conflict typically boils down to crucial conversations—moments when the stakes are high, emotions run strong, and opinions differ. And you cannot master crucial conversations without a high degree of emotional intelligence (EQ). With a mastery of conflict being so critical to your success, it’s no wonder that, among the million-plus people that Travis and his team at TalentSmart have tested, more than 90 percent of top performers have high EQs. So how can you use emotional intelligence to master crucial conversations? There are five common mistakes you must avoid, and five alternative strategies you can follow that will take you down the right path. Mistake #1: Being Brutally Honest You’ve suffered in silence long enough. Your colleague continues to park so close to your car that you have to enter through the passenger door. You’ve asked her before to stop. After a dozen more violations of your request, you decide you’ve suffered long enough. Clearly, she needs to know what you think of her intentional disrespect. So you let her have it. You get right in her face and tell her what an inconsiderate jerk she is. How to beat this? Honesty without brutality. From a young age, we’re taught to believe that we have to choose between telling the truth and keeping a friend—that the only options are brutality or harmony. With emotional intelligence, you can speak the truth without burning a bridge. Have you ever noticed how some conversations—even ones about very risky subjects—go very well? And others, even ones about trivial things, can degenerate into combat? The antidote to conflict is not diluting your message. It’s creating safety. Many people think the content of the conversation is what makes people defensive, so they assume it’s best to just go for it and be brutally honest. It isn’t. People don’t get defensive because of the content—they get defensive because of the intent they perceive behind it. It isn’t the truth that hurts, it’s the malice used to deliver the truth. Mistake #2: Robotically Sharing Your Feelings Some well-intentioned "communication" professionals suggest that when it’s time to speak up, the diplomatic way to do so is to start by sharing your feelings. For example, you tell your parking-impaired colleague, "I feel rage and disgust." Somehow that’s supposed to help. It doesn’t. People don’t work this way. Robotically sharing your feelings only alienates, annoys, and confuses them. How to beat this? Start with the facts. Our brains often serve us poorly during crucial conversations. In order to maximize cognitive efficiency, our minds store feelings and conclusions, but not the facts that created them. That’s why, when you give your colleague negative feedback and he asks for an example, you often hem and haw. You truly can’t remember. So you repeat your feelings or conclusions, but offer few helpful facts. Gathering the facts beforehand is the homework required to master crucial conversations. Before opening your mouth, think through the basic information that helped you think or feel the way you do—and prepare to share it first. Mistake #3: Defending Your Position When someone takes an opposing view on a topic you care deeply about, the natural human response is "defense." Our brains are hard-wired to assess for threats, but when we let feelings of being threatened hijack our behavior, things never end well. In a crucial conversation, getting defensive is a surefire path to failure. How to beat this? Get curious. A great way to inoculate yourself against defensiveness is to develop a healthy doubt about your own certainty. Then, enter the conversation with intense curiosity about the other person’s world. Give yourself a detective’s task of discovering why a reasonable, rational, and decent person would think the way he or she does. As former Secretary of State Dean Rusk said, "The best way to persuade others is with your ears, by listening." When others feel deeply understood, they become far more open to hearing you. Mistake #4: Blaming Others for Your Situation Your boss tells you she’ll go to bat for you for a promotion. You hear later that she advocated for your colleague instead. You feel betrayed and angry. Certainly, your boss is the one responsible for your pain—right? Truth is, she’s not the only one. How to beat this? Challenge your perspective. When we feel threatened, we amplify our negative emotions by blaming other people for our problems. You cannot master conflict until you recognize the role you’ve played in creating your circumstances. Your boss may have passed you over, but she did so for a reason. Half your pain is the result of her betrayal; the other half is due to your disappointment over not performing well enough to win the promotion. Mistake #5: Worrying About the Risks of Speaking Up It’s easy for crucial conversations to fill you with dread. Under the influence of such stress, your negative self-talk takes over and you obsess over all the bad things that might happen if you speak up. You conjure images of conflict, retribution, isolation, and pain until you retreat into silence. How to beat this? Determine the risks of not speaking up. The fastest way to motivate yourself to step up to difficult conversations is to simply articulate the costs of not speaking up. VitalSmarts research shows that those who consistently speak up aren’t necessarily more courageous; they’re simply more accurate. First, they scrupulously review what is likely to happen if they fail to speak up. Second, they ponder what might happen if they speak up and things go well. And finally (the order is important), they consider what may happen if the conversation goes poorly. Once they have an accurate understanding of the possibilities, saying something is their typical choice. Bringing It All Together The only way to win an argument is to never have one in the first place. Successful people know this—they don’t avoid conflict. They know that they can do something productive with it before things get out of hand. Apply these strategies the next time you’re facing a challenging situation and you’ll be amazed by the results. Good Luck, Joseph and Travis

Dear David, I am a young executive who has managed to climb the corporate ladder at a rapid pace. My current boss of seven years has been part of my success as he closely mentored me and exposed me to the right individuals—allowing them to see my work and leadership. With my recent promotion, he is expecting me to be more assertive with colleagues and even customers. My dilemma is that I tend to have a diplomatic rather than assertive approach, and believe this leadership style has contributed to my success. My boss is more aggressive, outspoken, and even intimidating. In previous conversations, he has made it very clear that I need to speak up and assert myself. How do I balance assertiveness with diplomacy? Kindly, Mr. Nice Guy Dear Mr. Nice Guy, I like your question, because I’ve had to answer it myself. I want to be successful, but not if it means being a bully. I want to be nice, but not if it means being taken advantage of. Fortunately, these are Fool’s Choices—false dichotomies that only appear to be trade-offs. In reality, you can be successful without being a bully, and you can be nice without opening yourself up to exploitation. It’s a question of skills. The What: Your manager thinks you are compromising the organization’s interests in order to maintain positive relationships. This is a common trap you can avoid. The key is to know what you want out of an agreement. Below are a few tips: 1. Focus on interests, rather than positions. Hold firm to your core interests, while being flexible about how these Interests are achieved. Remember, it’s about achieving your interests, not about winning an argument. 2. Involve your manager in determining core interests. The two of you need to agree on what you want to achieve. 3. When determining interests, encourage your manager to take a broad and long-term perspective. Don’t get caught up in silo warfare. Instead, ask what’s best for the enterprise. 4. Know your BATNA—your Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement. Have a clear Plan-B that you will follow if you can’t achieve your interests. The more confidence you have in your BATNA, the more comfortable you will be walking away from an unacceptable agreement. 5. Challenge others to look beyond their position. Help them identify their interests and broader purpose. In addition, inquire about their fears or their worst-case scenarios. Focus on creative ways to achieve their interests as well as yours, while insuring against their fears. The How: Find ways to be both tenacious and sensitive. Be clear and specific without becoming disrespectful or abusive. Below are a few tips: 1. Be assertive and outspoken when describing your interests. Not mean, but passionate, specific, and resolute. Make sure people know you are committed to your interests. This doesn’t make you a bully, unless you shut down their ability to respond. 2. Encourage others to be equally assertive and outspoken in describing their interests. Don’t allow your strong opinions to prevent them from sharing their perspectives. Their silence might produce short-term compliance, but create long-term problems. We suggest the following guideline: "The only limit to how strongly you can express your opinion is your willingness to be equally vigorous in encouraging others to challenge it." 3. Be clear about your BATNA. Show that you are ready to walk away from unacceptable agreements. This puts pressure on others, without making it personal. 4. Be Factual. Don’t exaggerate, spin the facts, or speak beyond the facts. Explain the source and relevance of the facts you employ. The facts establish common ground and are the foundation of your credibility. 5. Recognize when others are moving to silence or violence. When others are withdrawing or becoming overly aggressive, stop what you are doing, and step out of the content. Take the time to determine why they are feeling under attack. Have they lost sight of your common purpose? Do they feel disrespected? 6. Restore safety, but don’t compromise your interests. The mistake would be to restore peace by giving in. The better solution is to restore safety by reaffirming your common goals and your respect for them. Once they realize you are a friend, not a foe, they will be ready to return to dialogue. Then, when you return to the content, you do so without having compromised your interests. I hope these ideas help you be both sensitive and tenacious. I’d love to hear how others manage this dance between passionate, outspoken commitment and reasoned, diplomatic dialogue. Best of Luck, David

http://static.vitalsmartscdn.com/kerryingon/The%20Importance%20Of%20Being%20Frank.mp3 On September 8, 1958 (the first day I attended junior high school) I met Frank Mustappa. I didn’t know it at the time, but Frank would change my life. Despite the fact that he was a twelve-year-old boy, Frank was surprisingly mature. While the rest of us boys competed to see who could make the most explosive armpit noise, Frank practiced a more sophisticated and subtle brand of humor. For instance, when the weather turned unseasonably warm one day, Frank played hooky and went swimming. The next morning, he brashly forged his own excuse letter, strutted into the principal’s office, and handed the bogus note to "The Man" himself. It read: "Dear Mr. Howard, please excuse Frank from school yesterday. It was a beautiful day, the bay was calling, and Frank went swimming." The letter was signed, "My Mom." The principal (as Frank had calculated) laughed at Frank’s moxie and sent him to class without so much as a minute’s detention—winning Frank the admiration of the entire student body. Frank could afford to cut classes because he was smart as a whip. And while it’s true that he excelled in all subjects, English was his specialty. Frank’s weekly essays put the papers the rest of us nitwits wrote to shame. The truth is our writing was so pathetic that Mr. Lampley (our English teacher) would read aloud segments from our essays, hang his head in disgust, moan forlornly, catatonically rock back and forth, and then spout rude witticisms such as, "I’d say your work is moronic, but that would be an insult to morons everywhere." He wasn’t particularly original, but you could tell he was sincere. Eventually, Mr. Lampley would take a break from intellectually browbeating twelve-year-olds and turn his attention to his one ray of hope—Frank. "Listen up," Lampley would gush as he clung to Frank’s latest essay—caressing it as if it were a priceless manuscript. "Mr. Mustappa uses the word ‘nuance’ in this piece. Pay close attention." Then he’d read aloud an exquisite passage from Frank’s paper and I’d think to myself, "Frank didn’t write that. Some famous old coot wrote that. Surely no kid from the seedy side of Bellingham composed such an essay." In addition to writing beyond his years, Frank read and memorized a colossal amount of poetry. He exploited this hobby by working an occasional stanza or phrase into the class discussion or onto the football field (where Frank ruled as a first-rate linebacker). Unfortunately, it wasn’t long until Mr. Lampley tired of Frank’s poetic preening. Teaching a precocious twelve-year-old who enjoys strutting his intellectual prowess can stick in your craw—and Lampley’s craw grew precariously full. Tension built between the two until one fateful day. "Today," Lampley bellowed, "we’re going to read and discuss Edgar Allan Poe’s poem, ‘The Raven’." "I know that one," Frank blandly stated. Lampley took the bait. "Oh really? You KNOW that one—meaning you could recite it from memory?" "I suppose so," Frank responded with feigned indifference. "Well class," Lampley continued, "Please open your anthology to Mr. Poe’s masterpiece beginning on page 278. That is, everyone except for you, Mr. Mustappa. You can leave your book closed. I’ll start the poem, and then, from memory and memory alone, you’ll finish it." "Whatever," Frank responded. "Once upon a midnight dreary," Lampley attacked. "While I pondered, weak and weary," Frank countered. "Over many quaint . . . " Lampley inserted. " . . . and curious volume of forgotten lore," Frank regained control. From that point on, Frank recited every word of the remaining 106 lines—pausing at every comma, and punching every key phrase. By the end of his exhilarating recitation, the other students were chanting, "Frank! Frank! Frank!" It had been a stunning victory for junior-high school students everywhere. So crushing was Lampley’s defeat, he would challenge Frank . . . nevermore. Several months passed without a further public display of genius from Frank until one evening when he joined Jim, Tom, and me as we walked home from a night of shooting pool. Jim quickly tired of the uphill walk and asked Frank to recite something. Frank smiled broadly, took a deep breath, and launched into a Robert Service poem: "A bunch of the boys were whooping it up In the Malamute saloon; The kid that handles the music-box Was hitting a jag-time tune . . . " I’ll never forget the feeling of the gentle breeze nudging us up Garden Street that evening. We listened to Frank recite all 116 lines of "The Shooting of Dan McGrew"—a work so filled with blaring music, beautiful women, and blazing guns, and so fitting to the taste of a teenage boy, I was in awe. Listening to a friend recite poetry, as if doing so were a normal human activity, changed my world view. I had long decided that doing well in school was "uncool." Reciting poetry wasn’t just uncool, it was for sissies and nerds. Definitely not something for the likes of the crowd I hung with. And yet, there was Frank, who did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. That included writing essays and reciting poetry with such utter confidence and eye-popping panache that he unwittingly performed a miracle. Frank made writing essays and reciting poems—and by extension, all things intellectual—absolutely wonderful. Frank made learning cool. The actions of positive peer-models probably do as much or more to encourage youngsters to break from their immature ways than any adult preaching from a podium or educator pontificating in a classroom. Young people who unceremoniously forge a path that leads to a love of learning—while standing up to the corrosive ridicule of their peers—deserve special praise. Frank deserves special praise. That’s not to say that at some point in our lives we haven’t recognized the impact gifted teachers and other adult role models have had on us—and rightfully so. We’ve probably even thanked these mentors for their inspiration—and rightfully so. But today I’m honoring a rarely identified source of inspiration—a peer. A hard-working, confident teenager whose example changed my life. Thank you, Frank. You may recall the events I’ve just recounted. I suspect you do. But there’s no way you could know how much you helped me break from the forces that clawed at my heels and kept me from performing to my potential. You introduced me to the joy of learning and for that I shall be grateful . . . evermore. If you enjoyed this story, you’ll love Kerry’s new book, The Gray Fedora—a collection of stories from Kerrying On. The book is now available for pre-order on Amazon.com.