‘Individually, we are one drop. Together, we are an ocean.’ (Ryunosuke Satoro) Shared leadership is about attitude, behaviour and culture. It isn’t strictly about role, although it has special significance for people in leadership roles. It’s about sharing the joys and burdens, opportunities and challenges of organisational leadership. It’s about making my best contribution and recognising the distinctive contribution of others. It’s also about respecting interdependence and valuing fellow leaders and colleagues. Here are some examples of shared leadership, in contrast to and as a shift away from a more individualistic approach:
Shared leadership isn’t about being passive or dependent as part of a group. It is about recognising my contribution, recognising others’ contributions too, and working together to achieve shared success. Imagine a scenario in which, for instance, I discover the leader of another team is struggling to reach an important deadline. A person with an individualistic approach may think or say, for example, ‘It’s not my problem, it has nothing to do with me.’ By contrast, a shared leadership response may look something like this: ‘I’ve noticed you are under pressure to meet X deadline. Would you like to grab a coffee to discuss ways I or others could help you?’ Or, ‘Is there anything I could do to help release the pressure for you, e.g. renegotiate what my team is asking from your team or renegotiate our deadlines?’ Or, ‘I have some space in my calendar tomorrow, is there something I could do to help you?’ We see here that the spirit and practice of shared leadership is: contributing my best and, at the same time, drawing on and adding to the contributions of others. Would you like help with developing shared leadership in your organisation? Get in touch! [See also: Agency as leadership; Leadershift; Interdependence]
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‘Moral discipline is the consistent exercise of agency to choose the right because it is right, even when it is hard.’ (D. Todd Christofferson) Secret agent? No. Estate agent? No. Travel agent? No. Change agent? Yes – that’s what I mean here. Personal leadership is all about outlook, attitude and behaviour. It isn’t about role or position. It is about seeing myself, whatever my role, as an agent of change. It’s about being proactive, seizing the initiative and embracing fresh challenges. It’s also about seeking ways to improve things and being resourceful to address them. Here are some examples of personal leadership, representing a shift from passive to active stance:
Personal leadership isn’t about being individualistic or selfish. It is about choosing to take responsibility for my own decisions and actions and, where it affects others, helping to manage the implications. For instance, say I discover I can’t make it to a pre-arranged meeting. A passive response could be to say, for example, ‘Apologies, can’t make it after all.’ And that’s it. It could leave the other party feeling unsupported, undervalued or disrespected. By contrast, a personal leadership approach could look something like this: ‘Apologies, some unexpected, high priority and urgent work has come up which means I can’t now make it to our meeting. I recognise the meeting is important and I’ve explored various ways to make it possible, e.g. by rearranging other work, asking colleagues if they can cover for me; seeing if other deadlines can be renegotiated etc, without success. Is the date or time of the meeting negotiable...or could I perhaps arrange for somebody else attend in my place? I would ensure they are fully briefed beforehand and check in with them afterwards.’ See and feel the difference? Bottom line: personal leadership is about exercising my agency to contribute my best, and to enhance the contribution of others. Would you like help with developing personal leadership in your organisation? Get in touch! [See also: Shared leadership; Personal leadership; Developing personal leadership] ‘The only thing that has been predictable has been the utter unpredictability of what has followed.’ (Gina Miller) Take a brief moment. Look back over the past 12 months. Make a note of the key people, relationships, moments or events that stand out to you now as most significant from that period. It could be at a personal level or even at a global level. Reflect for a while on the influence or impact they have had in your life. Now highlight which of those things you had anticipated or knew for sure in advance at the start of 2024. You may be surprised by how many came as a surprise. ‘We are in a jungle and find our way by trial and error, building our road behind us as we proceed.’ (Max Born) That’s actually been true, for me, every year of my life. It makes approaching the future with an assured sense of certainty questionable. It means planning rigidly, as if we can predict and manage our destiny, naively optimistic. It calls for openness, agility and adaptability. How do you deal with unpredictability – without clinging to control or abdicating to apathy? 'Are coaching services for the wealthy elite – those who can afford it? What could we do to make coaching more accessible to those who are poorer in the world?’ Nick Wright (UK) and Dr Smita Singh (India) offer their own reflections here: This question first confronted me (Nick) 30 years ago. I was employed by a UK faith-based organisation to provide coaching support for community development workers. I asked myself, ‘What about those who can’t afford this kind of provision, yet could benefit so much from it?’ An answer to that question was to start my own freelance practice with a vision to provide low-cost high-quality coaching – affordable and accessible – for practitioners working with the poor. I did this in my free time, initially for one evening per week, and it grew to become international. The challenges I have faced are how to scale up to extend such provision for greater reach; how to find and connect with those (e.g. local activists in civil society organisations) to offer support; how to provide coaching that is culturally and contextually sensitive, relevant and effective. These are some of the difficulties I’ve encountered over the years: Coaching is an unregulated industry and the word ‘coaching’ means different things to different people, organisations and practitioners in different countries; some view it as an alien cultural approach, derived from Western assumptions and inapplicable in other contexts; some view it negatively as a remedial intervention and, as such, it can carry connotations of failure and shame; the poor typically have least scope for personal agency, influence and opportunity; the poorest are often too busy working to survive at a subsistence level to make time for coaching-type interventions – and likely to view it as a luxury reserved for the rich; coaches are often self-employed and need to recover the cost of investment in their training as well as pay their own bills through fees. Against this complex backdrop, here are some ways in which we can make coaching more accessible for the poor: advocate that United Nations, non-governmental organisations, public-private sectors and local civil society organisations include coaching provision in their plans and budgets as integral to enabling critical reflection and social transformation; integrate cross-cultural insights and approaches into coaching professional standards and training; provide scholarships for people from poorer backgrounds and contexts to take part in coach training programmes; offer group coaching or related approaches (such as action learning) to reduce per capita costs; experiment with new technologies to create access to coaching without associated travel time and costs; provide some coaching support low-bono or pro bono. I (Smita) agree with pro-bono and low-bono approaches to making coaching more accessible. The concerns that Nick has raised are, in my view, primarily about perceptions and deep-rooted norms around coaching that the non-elite may hold (which is what I feel too). We know that such perceptions and norms influence each other. Perceptions and norms (for example, what a person sees others do, and what they believe others expect of them too) often determine behaviour. A person may conform well to a norm because they see and experience that most other people in their cultural context also conform. If, through coaching, we can help people grow in awareness of their perceptions and norms, we can start to create social change – but this will sometimes need to start with changing people’s perceptions of coaching itself. Some organizational development (OD) interventions may help change these perceptions and norms; for example, the ‘Normative Re-educative Strategy of Change’ that Robert Chin and Kenneth D. Benne introduced some 5 decades ago. Theirs is a framework for managing change in organizations and social settings. In my experience, it tends to be effective because it aims to achieve win-win solutions through collaboration, education and experience. For instance, in the past, we worked to make India a polio-free country. We tried various methods but realized we would only achieve our aim if we were to re-educate the masses. Many people feared the new vaccine, so it was necessary to educate them. We drew on the experience of local volunteers from the relevant communities, which created critical credibility and trust. The non-elite or those in need in any country, including the UK, US, Australia, etc, can be effectively helped using this approach too. For coaches, paying their bills while offering low-cost coaching to make it more affordable for those at the bottom of the socioeconomic pyramid is a significant concern. As an academic, I would propose writing white papers, offering evidence-based research to demonstrate the value of coaching interventions in social change and sharing them with key policymakers. If coaches can obtain funding from the government or sponsorship from corporate or other funding sources, they can have a stable income while they provide coaching to poorer clients. Training and employing coaches from local cultures and communities will help ensure it is provided in culturally- and contextually relevant ways, including stories of success that the people in need can quickly identify with. What do you think? We’d love to hear about your experiences, insights and ideas of making coaching provision accessible for the poor. (Dr Smita Singh is a faculty member at IMT Nagpur Business School in India and is also a management consultant, coach and author.) [See also: Artificial coaching; Coaching through an East-West lens] ‘The government is us; we are the government, you and I.’ (Theodore Roosevelt) ‘It’s the first time someone has asked me what I think.’ Paul was stunned that, over a drink with his university philosophy tutor, he had been invited to share his own thoughts, insights and ideas. Years later, I’ve still never forgotten the positive surprise and bright sparkle in Paul’s eyes as he recounted that experience. There’s something about being genuinely invited in, heard and understood, especially by someone we may look up to and admire, that can feel incredibly affirming and inspiring. It’s the kind of thing that can build confidence, loyalty and trust. By stark contrast, here’s a recent personal experience: in the past 6 months, I've written to the UK Prime Minister twice – no response; UK Home Secretary 3 times – no response; UK Safeguarding and Violence Against Women & Girls Minister once – no response; my local UK MP 4 times – no response. (Also: the former General Secretary of NATO once – no response; former Archbishop of Canterbury once – no response…the UK BBC News once; UK Sky News once; UK Channel 4 News once; Al Jazeera UK News 5 times – and all with no response). I’m curious – and democratically concerned. In the past, whenever I’ve written to political leaders, they have always responded. (In fact, in the past 6 months, the only leader who has responded is the Leader of the UK Reform Party). What has changed, and what does it mean? I could hypothesise. For instance: perhaps they’ve ignored my communications because they don’t care what I think; perhaps they haven’t had a clear position on the issues I’ve raised so haven’t known how to respond; perhaps they’ve been overwhelmed by work pressures and so haven’t had the time to respond; perhaps – and possibly most plausibly in the current volatile, inflamed climate – they’ve been fearful to respond in case I were to take what they have said and react to it badly, or misconstrue what they have said and spread it over social media. Perhaps, and it is only a perhaps, they have chosen radio silence as a self-defensive, least-worst strategy in these complex and challenging circumstances. I don’t know. I do know how it feels to be on the not-receiving end of such un-responsive leadership. I can better understand how increasing numbers of people feel ignored, unheard and disenfranchised by their own elected representatives – and that worries me for the future of democratic states and societies. We live in turbulent times. Pulling back from communication exacerbates the risks. ‘For every fixed idea there is an absent idea: by interpreting experience in a particular way we inadvertently exclude alternative renditions.’ (Peter Senge) It’s tricky being human. We are so easily trapped by our assumptions. Imagine this scenario (mirroring Chris Argyris and Peter Senge’s Ladder of Inference): You arrange a meeting with a colleague from whom you need input and you race back from another appointment to ensure you arrive on time. To your frustration and dismay, the other person doesn’t turn up. You call them but there’s no answer. What sort of thing goes through your mind? It could be:
That reminds me of Stephen Covey’s observation that, often, ‘We judge others by their actions but ourselves by our intentions.’ If this happens, you’re likely to feel devalued and disrespected – and that will have a negative impact on your relationship. Yet how to challenge yourself to create a shift in perspective and, thereby, to open up fresh possibilities for moving things forward? Jean Latting and V. Jean Ramsey offer a useful ‘3 Hypotheses Technique’: The first step is to notice and take note of what you assume the person’s action or behaviour means – that is, if you like, your starting hypothesis. The second step is to assume the person has a positive intention – which would be, in this case, the reverse of your initial hypothesis. The third step is to assume the person is, for instance, being driven by external circumstances that are beyond their control – that is, to imagine or create an alternative explanation. Playing with hypotheses like this can help us loosen the grip that hidden, subconscious assumptions can hold over our thinking, how we feel and how we respond. It helps us recognise when we may be jumping to conclusions without realising it – especially when we’re feeling anxious, pressured or stressed – and it can evoke a constructive and healthy state of curiosity, allowing us to navigate situations and relationships with greater freedom, flexibility and truth. ‘The dark night of the soul is a journey into light.’ (Caroline Myss) The first thing I noticed was the strange sound of my own voice. After 3 days in solitude on silent retreat where listening was my primary intention and goal, to hear my own words spoken again felt like an unwelcome intrusion. Silence, free from distraction and alone before God, has a deep quality that transcends human activity and language. Some call it contemplation. Others speak of receiving a Gaze and learning to gaze in return. It’s different to meditation – reflecting on or thinking about – and more about practicing being and becoming present to the Presence. As I first arrived at the retreat centre itself, I was delighted to learn that I was the only person on site. A rich indulgence, I know, yet one that suited my need and temperament at the start of this New Year. It was snowing gently over white, frosted ground as I carried my bags into the room, aptly named the Hideaway, and it reminded me of C.S. Lewis’ Christian allegorical land of Narnia. I decided to use that as a starting place: to re-read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, interspersed with inspirations with insight and feeling from Fr. Iain Matthew's The Impact of God. The most challenging part for me was simply to be still. I sometimes found myself reaching for a TV control – if there had been a TV – and realised how often I use such media as ways of distracting myself from my own dark shadow, an existential sense of aloneness in this world. I wanted to face this, not to hide from it and, in Iain Matthew's words, ‘to feel my way to the place of my need. To go there, take it, name it and hold it before Christ…and to expose it to the rays of His love.’ I was seeking personal Presence in abstract absence, Light in darkness – God. I'm glad I did. ‘I was a fugitive, taking risks with my life. I chose that.’ (Abbie Hoffman) Sometimes you have to just do it, bite the proverbial bullet and take a leap of faith. If you wait until all your ducks line up neatly in a row, you may miss the moment, miss an opportunity – or miss your life. This is a recurring theme that comes up in coaching conversations. How to move forward when the landscape is ambiguous or unclear? How to take a step into the future if you can’t foresee all the potential consequences? How to snap yourself out of procrastinating, a paralysis of analysis or an anxiety-driven need for control? In that vein, I watched Cabrini this week, the life story of a radical Italian nun who felt called by God to make a tangible difference in the lives of the poor. When challenged on her breath-taking plans and stark lack of related resources, the movie has Frances Cabrini saying: ‘Begin the mission and the means will come.’ Her attitude and actions were based on a grounded faith that God would provide for what was needed, and on an activist stance that meant taking the first step rather than waiting. (She was a lot like Jasmin in the Philippines). This assumes, of course, a sense of purpose, calling or mission. Clients are often unclear what that could be in their lives yet nevertheless experience a deep, existential sense of discontent, dissonance or yearning. It’s as if they have an intuitive sense of someone or something calling from within or beyond yet can't pin it down to a specific focus, stance or direction. Or, perhaps in some ways harder still, they are clear yet struggle to muster up the courage to do it. A clock is ticking. ‘Human life must be risked if it is to be won.’ (Jürgen Moltmann) |
Nick WrightI'm a psychological coach, trainer and OD consultant. Curious to discover how can I help you? Get in touch! Like what you read? Simply enter your email address below to receive regular blog updates!
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