 ‘The prime minister has insisted he will fight any attempt to bring him down.’ (HuffPost UK) What a week. As if things weren’t already unstable and turbulent enough on the world stage, the UK government has gone into chaotic meltdown. Not with the opposition but within its own ranks. Against the backdrop of disastrous election results for the Labour party last week, and a loud-and-clear message from the UK public along the lines of 'Starmer is an appalling communicator who exercises terrible political judgement', we find ourselves rudderless, spluttering and adrift. One commentator on TV today said, satirically, that Starmer’s leadership style does more to drive voters towards Reform and Greens than anything those parties could do for themselves. Yet the turmoil is symptomatic of wider and deeper phenomena than the PM alone. The world is complex and Labour, like the Conservatives before them, is complex too: an internal coalition of competing and, at times, conflicting interests that make it hard to pursue a simple, single unified vision. Farage and Polanski will be glued to the new headlines this weekend. I think I will be too.
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 ‘Once somebody’s proven their too frightened to defend the most vulnerable, they’ve shown who they are.’ (J.K. Rowling) J.K. Rowling is not known for mincing her words and I found her stark challenge at the weekend particularly piercing. I wondered how often I haven’t spoken up, haven’t intervened, through fear of how others could perceive or react towards me. Keeping our heads down is sometimes the expedient thing to do, if it helps keep others safe or enables us to achieve a greater goal. Staying silent through apathy or to save my own skin is, however, something completely different. Jasmin in the Philippines brought this principle home forcefully today when, in a class of future community development facilitators, she suddenly and unexpectedly instructed one of the students to leave the lesson and to wait outside, without any explanation as to why. He looked surprised but left the room, and Jasmin continued the session as normal. The other students became more focused and animated, perhaps believing their peer had been expelled for not paying attention or looking sufficiently engaged. Jasmin allowed this to run for some time, then invited the outsider to re-join the group. The students didn’t say a word. So – Jasmin challenged them directly. To the student who had been excluded: ‘Why did you just leave the room without asking why?’ To the wider group: ‘Why did you just watch that happen and not ask why?’ ‘Didn’t it occur to any of you to challenge me on what I just did?’ It was as if they had passively deferred to her authority, rather than question her or stand in support. Jasmin’s provocation stimulated an important conversation in the class about exercising personal agency in the context of community development, relationships and leadership. Using Jesus as a role model, she reinforced that behaviour is a choice and that they will need to learn to take risks, at times to take a very courageous stance, if they are to influence radical change.  ‘Information is giving out; communication is getting through.’ (Sydney J. Harris) I leapt to my own defence, taking even myself by surprise. I was out motorcycling with a good friend yesterday when, after taking a break, he unexpectedly gave me feedback on a couple of important riding mistakes I’d made on route. He’s a far more advanced motorcyclist than I am and his comments were justified and accurate. In fact, I’d noticed the same errors when I had made them and had attempted to correct them. So why the defensive response? I reflected on this afterwards and three factors came to mind: the feedback was unsolicited; given very directly; and only focused on the mistakes. Perhaps it tapped into an insecurity of sorts, too, when riding with such an experienced expert; especially as I’ve had 19 motorcycle accidents in the past – not something to be proud of – and have a definite need for improvement(!). A different way to approach feedback conversations (especially when working cross-culturally) is to (a) ask the person if they would find feedback useful (including in that moment and context); (b) explain our intention is to be helpful; (c) ask what feedback they would find most useful; and (d) ensure it’s in perspective (against a backdrop of what they did well). It’s about inviting the other party to invite feedback – if they’d like to. Would you like help with giving and receiving feedback? Get in touch! 
 ‘The Labour Party has lived down to low expectations.’ (Henry Zeffman, BBC) It felt almost painful to watch the news today. I can well remember having red flags and ribbons on my car and visionary political posters blazoned on my garage wall. Those days are long gone. From what a great height the Labour Party has fallen. Voters feel visceral rage when they hear ‘Let’s be clear Keir’ talk down to the nation in what critics call his dull, whining, autocratic, robotic or patronising tones. Jonathan Liew had written a challenging article in the Guardian (a left-leaning paper) in January 2026 titled, ‘When crowds direct offensive chants at Keir Starmer, who’s to blame? I’m afraid he is.’ It read like an insight and a warning. Seeing today's disastrous election results, Labour MPs and Councillors might be wishing they had paid attention, taken heed and acted earlier to change the not-inevitable outcome. Commenting satirically on the PM's seemingly unique ability to unite people from all parts of the political spectrum in profound disdain for his leadership, Liew wrote, ‘there is a rich irony in the fact that Starmer took office with the explicit aim of healing our divisions and bringing the country together, rendering this one of the very few election pledges he has actually managed to keep.’ Not the legacy he was hoping for. Yet is it really fair to pour this level of contempt on any human being? I don’t remember a UK political figure (apart from, perhaps, Margaret Thatcher) ever facing so much hostile personal attack, with names like ‘Two-Tier Keir’, ‘Free gear Keir’ or ‘Never Here Keir’ at the polite end of an abusive spectrum. Centrist politics are losing ground everywhere. Is Starmer simply a lightning rod for a deeper political malaise?  ‘Through reflection, a practitioner can surface and criticise the tacit understandings that have grown up around the repetitive experiences of a specialised practice, and can make new sense of the situations of uncertainty or uniqueness they allow themself to experience.’ (Donald Schön) Kolb’s Learning Cycle is a common tool for developing reflective practice. I first came across it many years ago now on a course in supervision and consultation. At a first glance, it looks quite simple and it would be easy to skim through it with ease. I discovered that day that applying it in a more disciplined and systematic can lead to far greater benefit. At the tutor led us through it, holding space at each stage before moving onto the next, I can still remember the impact. A reflective practice conversation, sometimes known as non-managerial supervision, typically starts with a concrete experience – something that’s happened in the past or is happening in the present. At this stage, the client is invited to use only descriptive language. It’s as if what they are depicting could be observed by a neutral outsider – the facts of the matter, so to speak – without any inference or interpretation. E.g. ‘In X meeting, I did Y and my colleague did Z.’ The second stage is more reflective, as if inviting the client to explore inside and outside of the experience to see what they notice and are aware of – or not. This could include, for instance, what they were thinking; what assumptions they were making; how they were feeling; what their intuition was telling them; who or what influenced what they did or didn’t do; what others might have noticed in that situation. E.g. ‘I felt sure my boss ignored me because she was angry.’ The third stage is more evaluative in nature and moves beyond exploration towards learning, understanding and sense-making. This could involve, for instance, identifying patterns or themes; eliciting key principles; creating hypotheses; drawing conclusions. It could include comparing and contrasting with relevant theory or research, or surfacing the clients own or broader cultural identity, beliefs and values. E.g. ‘I realise now I did X because or Y and Z.’ The final stage is more prospective in nature and moves towards thinking ahead, crystallising choices, making decisions and planning to try something out. We could think of this as creating an experiment on the basis of fresh insights gained, then taking steps to do something different or new. This will involve one or more concrete actions (– which will become the next experience at the start of a subsequent learning cycle). E.g. ‘Having thought this through, I will now do X.’  English translation of a talk I delivered for a 'Prayers for Peace' meeting in Germany this week: Martin Luther King is famous for having ‘a dream’ – a vision from God of a bright new reality that he was willing to live and die for. For him, peace was far more than the absence of conflict. After all, people, communities and even nations can co-exist alongside one-another for a time, even if there are tensions, grievances or injustices in and between them.* We see an example in history of ‘Pax Romana’ – a peace of sorts that the Roman Empire established and maintained by the overwhelming force of the military, rather than through building positive relationships between neighbouring peoples and societies. It was a way of holding an empire together by active coercion and brutal suppression of all dissent. The Roman historian, Tacitus, commented that, ‘They (the Romans) make a desert and call it peace.’ This was the world into which Jesus Christ was born. It helps us understand the dilemma for Pilate when some Jewish leaders said Jesus claimed to be King of the Jews. If the accusation were true, it could be a threat to ‘Pax Romana’. Pilate was forced to act. Martin Luther King calls this ‘negative peace’. It’s often better than open violence or war, yet because the underlying issues are not addressed or resolved, it’s likely to be a fragile state that could collapse at any time. Martin Luther King advocated for a ‘positive peace’, characterised by an active reaching towards the ‘other’ with love, forgiveness and hope. This is the peace we see modelled by Jesus Christ who reaches out actively towards us. He doesn’t ignore the problems and challenges but takes positive initiative to resolve them. This is what he calls us to do too. It’s a peace that reflects the Hebrew idea of ‘Shalom’ (שָׁלוֹם) – a holistic peace that includes restoration, safety, wholeness, harmony and wellbeing. As we look across the world today and see increasing tensions, conflicts and wars, let’s pray for a positive peace that is so much more than an absence of violence. Let’s pray especially for those who are so blinded by hate, hurt or self-interest that they can’t even imagine a different way or future. Let’s pray – with God’s help – for love, forgiveness and hope. *(e.g. Treaty of Versailles (1919); Treaty of Trianon (1920); Korean Armistice Agreement (1953); Israel-Lebanon May 17 Agreement (1983); Dayton Accord – Bosnia and Herzegovina (1995); Northern Ireland 'Peace without Reconciliation' (1998-present); Post-Civil War Libya (2011–present); India-Pakistan Ceasefire Agreement (2003/2021); Gaza Peace Plan (2025))  ‘Fear is a shadow that always walks behind you, speaking in your ear that you must watch your back, carry the basics and look for exit routes, lest you need to run for your life.’ (Fiyaz Mughal) Shortly before she died, a friend and colleague, Rachael, talked to me openly about her Jewish faith. It was against the backdrop of the UK and wider Europe receiving a significant influx of people seeking asylum from countries with predominantly Muslim populations. ‘To be honest, Nick, I have never felt so afraid in my life.’ Rachael was living in London and genuinely feared for her safety. As she spoke, she talked about very real threats from three pincer movement-like sources: Islamist extremists; anti-Israel Leftists; xenophobic far-Right. I could feel her fear, sense her deep anxiety, and I felt powerless. I didn’t know what to say or do. As we left the café where we had been speaking, we passed by a woman at the side of the road dressed in Muslim clothing and selling copies of the Big Issue (a magazine sold by homeless people to earn a living). To my surprise and shame, I noticed a slight yet perceptible tension in my body, having just heard Rachael’s story. No! – I stopped myself. This is how it starts. I turned around, walked back, bought a copy and thanked the woman with a smile. A Christian Palestinian colleague in Jordan helped me to process this experience. He commented that, in his region and in the wider world today, sectarian tribalism is a significant challenge. ‘Each group takes sides with whomever they feel an identity with and an empathy for. In stark contrast, followers of Jesus are called distinctively to show concern for all sides as fellow human beings, loved by and created in the image of God.’ This is a high calling and a difficult task. How to stand-with in solidarity, without standing-against in hostility? I pray God help us.  ‘Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.’ (John Keats) Earlier this year, I had the privilege of doing some Action Learning training work in Georgia and, while there, I visited an Orthodox Christian church in Tbilisi. It was a new experience for me. The building inside was beautifully-decorated throughout with brightly-colourful paintings of Jesus and other key figures on the walls and ceilings. There were lit candles in various places too and (strangely, for me) there were no chairs except for a couple of seats near the door. The experience inside felt alien yet familiar and, somehow, deeply inspiring. On return to the UK, I stumbled across some recordings of an Orthodox priest in Georgia, singing with others in Aramaic (the language that Jesus spoke). The mood and tone of the songs felt evocative and mysterious and it prompted me to buy a copy of a short book on Orthodox Christianity to learn more about this expression of my own Christian faith from a very different culture. It struck me again how I’m attracted to difference; intrigued by new people, insights and ideas that lay outside of my existing awareness. It is, at times, the adrenaline rush of a novel experience, a fresh discovery, a revealing realisation, that makes me feel most alive. It’s also the excitement of a creative-dialectical dynamic; that is, a synergy of people, insights and ideas from diverse worlds that – just like in Action Learning – call something new into being.  ‘One's dignity may be assaulted, vandalised and cruelly mocked, but it can never be taken away unless it is surrendered.' (Michael J. Fox) Ten years ago, Cardiff University did some research that tried to understand why young men in the North of England are disproportionately so violent. Five years ago, Dan Jackson published a book that included further theories to explain this phenomenon. I certainly didn’t need to read publications to recognise this issue when growing up in the Northeast as a teenager. Avoiding violent individuals and gangs on the way to and from school was a daily survival necessity. On one occasion, I was running for a school bus when three teenagers, all a year older than me, chased after me. While passing a graveyard, one of them punched me in the face from the side. The impact left me reeling and falling awkwardly to the muddy ground. They laughed as I got up, tears streaming, and staggered on to reach the bus stop. I was relieved to see my older brother, Rob, standing there with two of his friends, a year older than those who had attacked me. ‘What happened to you?’ they asked. As the thugs swaggered towards us, Rob told me to point out which one had hit me, so I did (nervously). Rob stood casually chatting with his friends and then, as the trio were about to pass by, he suddenly lashed out, grabbed the startled assailant by the throat and pulled him up close. ‘You ever even look at my brother, and you’re dead’. He stood, shaking, and his friends vanished. Not surprisingly, he never cast eyes on me again. Some time later, I worked in industry when another teenager attempted to intimidate me with hard stares and threatening remarks. Unknown to him, I had taken up karate and, rather than responding directly, I simply dropped to the floor and did 25 press-ups on the knuckles of one hand. He got the message and backed off. These counter-threat strategies did work, but I do wish we could find better ways to prevent and address bullying, oppression and violence in the world. What do you think? |
Nick WrightI'm a psychological coach, trainer and OD consultant. Curious to discover how can I help you? Get in touch! 
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