‘Capabilities are freedoms conceived as real opportunities.’ (Amartya Sen) I keep coming back to this question: what is it that makes the difference? I’ve been drawn recently to reflections on this theme by Indian economist and philosopher, Amartya Sen. He distinguishes between capabilities, which are our resources (including our abilities and our potential), and conversion factors, which are influences on the real opportunities we have to use and fulfil them. Sen focuses his work on wellbeing and on the kinds of lives people and groups are effectively able to lead. He moves on to questions of what people, groups and societies need. Sen offers some interesting illustrations. Two people have the same resources. One is able-bodied and the other has physical disabilities that confine them to a wheelchair. All else being equal, the able-bodied person has more net resources because the person with disabilities has more related expenses. The former may also have greater net opportunities in society because the latter may be limited to places that are wheelchair-accessible. This could lead us to the conclusion that the person with disabilities should be given more resources to ensure equity. Sen then asks, what if the able-bodied person is hard to please and needs more resources to achieve a sense of wellbeing? What if the person with disabilities is content with their life and needs fewer resources to achieve wellbeing? If the goal is wellbeing, should we therefore provide more resources for the able-bodied person? Sen poses two challenges before we leap to this conclusion: sometimes disadvantaged people lower their expectations as a coping mechanism; and society has a moral imperative to support the disadvantaged and vulnerable. Sen provides another example of a person who owns a bicycle. The bike is a means to an end, to ensure mobility rather than an end in itself. Yet to convert the potential of bike ownership to greater mobility, certain conditions need to be in place. These could include, for instance, the physical ability to ride a bike; a social-cultural context that allows the person to ride a bike; and environmental conditions such as safe roads or suitable bike paths that make using a bike feasible. It’s a combination of capabilities and conversion factors that make this difference. So, what does this look like real situations? As far back as 2003, I wrote a research paper as part of an organisation development (OD) masters’ degree that aimed to identify and address common factors that influence engagement and effectiveness in organisations. I proposed that culture, complexity, capability and climate were critical variables. It’s about releasing and harnessing individual potential on the one hand, whilst creating the conditions in which people thrive on the other. This is, in my view, where coaching, action learning and OD intersect. What do you think?
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‘Extraordinary people are ordinary people making extraordinary decisions.’ (Sharon Pearson) Who’s in the driving seat? It’s an important question in coaching and action learning. After all, the client or presenter chooses the direction, speed, route and destination, even though we travel together. As a coach, if I find myself taking the wheel consciously or inadvertently, I would need to pause, take a breath and rethink or recontract our roles. Too much control risks distracting or disturbing the client’s own insight, potential and agency; a loss that would outweigh a gain. So, what does this look like? The client decides their own starting point, their desired goal and how they’d like to get there. I help facilitate the journey insofar as the client finds this beneficial, and offer silence, questions or reflections, or signal signposts in the road, as minimal prompts. The client navigates their own way, discovering or creating solutions to any challenges they encounter on route. I travel alongside to offer support and challenge, to sharpen awareness and skill. What have been your experiences of working with a coach? What made the difference for you? ‘It’s about recognizing the spark of greatness even in moments of darkness – and nurturing it to light the way forward.’ (Dr Wayne Dyer) Coaching has been described as ‘the art of the obvious’ – helping clients recognise what is hidden in plain sight. Coaches use various techniques to bring these insights to the surface such as asking thought-provoking questions, mirroring language and gestures, or engaging clients in physical experiments. A shift in awareness often provides the focus, energy and momentum needed for meaningful change. Coaching in action: Lisa’s fear of presentations Lisa, a new manager, says she feels scared of giving presentations. She feels sick and tries to avoid them. Someone may pose direct questions like:
While these could be useful, deeper exploration may be needed. Different coaching approaches offer varied pathways for insight and growth. Here are some examples, drawing on my own studies, training and practice in diverse psychological fields: Solutions-focused
Strengths-based
Cognitive
Psychodynamic
Neurolinguistic
Gestalt-somatic
Existential
Spiritual
Critical
Behavioural
Conclusion Different coaching approaches provide unique lenses through which clients can explore and address their challenges. The key is finding the method that best aligns with the clients' needs and interests, and unlocks awareness, confidence and action for meaningful growth. Would you be interested to work with a coach? Get in touch! ‘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] ‘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] ‘Hope reflects a psychological state in which we perceive the way-power and the willpower to get to our destination.’ (Charles Snyder) I’ve spent much of the past 18 years working with leaders in beyond-profit organisations, enabling them to lead and influence transitions in the midst of dynamically-complex change. This often involves helping them to develop the qualities and relationships they need to support themselves and others to survive, thrive and perform well in the face of an uncertain and, at times, anxiety-provoking future. A recurring challenge that such leaders encounter is how to instil and sustain hope within themselves as well as within and between others. Putting on a brave face my inspire confidence in the short-term but can feel inauthentic if their foundations are wobbling – and authenticity is a critical condition for building and sustaining trust. New leadership calls for resilience, resourcefulness and faith. Hope Theory offers some useful insights and ideas here. If we (a) have a desired future in mind (vision), (b) can see a way by which it can be achieved (way-power) and (c) are motivated to take action to do it (willpower), we are more likely to experience genuine hope. It’s very different to abstract idealism or naïve optimism, which may engender a good feeling but lack any grounding in reality. Yet what to do if someone is stuck: devoid of vision, unable to see a way forward or lacking in any sense of agency to do anything about it? This is where co-active leadership, coaching and action learning can really help; offering practical means by which people and groups can discover or create fresh goals, find or devise innovative solutions, and gain the traction they need to move things forward. Do you need help with hope? Get in touch! ‘In a fully developed bureaucracy there is nobody left with whom one can argue, to whom one can represent grievances, or on whom the pressures of power can be exerted. We have a tyranny without a tyrant.’ (Hannah Arendt) I’ve been astonished in recent months by numerous accounts from friends, colleagues and clients of feeling mangled in the machines of bureaucracy. Some have been in commercial business contexts and others, more depressingly in many respects, in the explicitly values-orientated not-for-profit sector. A recurring theme has been being passed from pillar to post, being subjected to impersonal policies, processes and procedures, with no account taken of the human costs. Against this background, I have been remarkably impressed by these same individuals’ resilience. I’ve been amazed at their ability to survive and persevere on the edges of systems that care on paper but demonstrate no empathy in practice. Some have attributed their endurability to trust in God, some to support from family and friends, some to techniques like mindfulness, others to a pragmatic approach in life. They are a testimony to the human spirit in the face of adversity. Ironically, when I speak with people who operate the machinery in such organisations, I don’t often encounter faceless, unfeeling bureaucrats. I do often find people trying hard to do what they or their management considers to be the right thing, or cold technology requires them to do, often against a backdrop of competing pressures and demands and far-from-adequate resources to address them. Losing the human becomes an inadvertent cultural pattern and consequence. Do you need help to rediscover the human in your organisation? Get in touch! ‘To learn through listening, practice it naively and actively. Naively means that you listen openly, ready to learn something, as opposed to listening defensively, ready to rebut. Listening actively means you acknowledge what you heard and act accordingly.’ (Betsy Sanders) I ran a Leading and Influencing Change workshop today for health and social care professionals, focused on introducing and embedding trauma-informed practice in the mental health arena. Ironically, the event took place in an old, abandoned fortress, with the training room in which we met surrounded by symbols of attack and defence: tanks, artillery, torpedoes, tunnels and protective walls. There was also a disused military hut with 007 on the door, a symbol of secretive actors and actions behind the scenes made famous by fictitious spy James Bond. Serving as metaphors, we considered how to shift team and organisational culture away from, at times, a default and subconscious fight-flight, attack-and-defence response in incredibly busy, pressured and complex work environments. We did this by thinking through approaches and behaviours that may look and feel counter-cultural – in practice, if not in principle – in those contexts. It entails role-modelling five key qualities in attitude and action in communications, conversations and relationships: i.e. safety, trust, choice, collaboration and empowerment. What could this look like practice? One participant illustrated it beautifully. When I asked for volunteers, she commented that she felt nervous to take part in an activity in front of the group. Two simple questions can make all the difference here: ‘If you were to do X, what would that mean for you?’ (e.g. ‘I would feel anxious and exposed in front of my peers’) and, ‘Given that, what would you need?’ (e.g. ‘If I could have more information about what the activity will entail, I could make a considered decision’; or ‘If I could sit behind a table, I would feel less exposed.’) This is, at heart, about adopting and modelling a human, invitational and coactive leadership style and approach that takes the voices, hopes and concerns of others seriously. I don’t believe the oft-quoted maxim that people are necessarily and fundamentally resistant to change. In my experience, people may resist a change, even if they agree with it, if they don’t feel heard and understood. Conversely, people may support a change, even if they don’t agree with it, if they do feel heard and understood. Attack-and-defence is a sign that something has gone awry. [See also: Trauma-informed coaching; A safe-enough space] ‘The currency of real networking is not greed, but generosity.’ (Keith Ferrazzi) One of the skills in Action Learning is to distinguish between a presenter who is wrestling with a question from one who has become completely stuck. In the former case, it’s often most useful simply to sit with the presenter in silence while the question does its work. In the latter, the facilitator may offer the presenter an option of ‘peer-consultancy’, if it might help break the mental deadlock. In order to do this well, however, and to ensure that ownership and agency remain with the presenter, the facilitator can follow a specific sequence of interventions and process steps:
A few words of caution. First, beware of introducing the peer-consultancy approach without checking in with the presenter first. If the presenter is deep in thought, such a shift in approach may feel premature of patronising, as if inferring that they’re unable to work out a solution for themselves. Second, beware of any formal or informal (e.g. age, gender, race) hierarchical dynamics in a group. Presenters may feel that they ought to respond to all insights out of respect for those who shared them, or obliged to agree with ideas proposed by someone they regard as an authority figure. ‘Two roads diverged in a wood, and I — I took the one less travelled by.’ (Robert Frost) It was in a dark, cigarette smoke-filled pub one night. The trade union reps sat behind a long wooden table, cluttered with half-full beer glasses. We about-to-graduate apprentices sat opposite, waiting to be called forward. (It was in the days of closed shop when qualified trades people could only be employed if they held union membership). At the time, I supported the value of trade unions in principle, yet felt dismayed and disillusioned by the corruption that this source of power had created. I noticed my colleagues often lived in fear of the union rather than represented by it. If you said or did something that challenged or upset union leaders, you risked losing your union card and therefore your job. One by one, my fellow apprentices stepped up to the table. ‘Raise your right hand. Do you swear to abide by the rules of the trade union?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘OK, go and sit down.' My turn came. ‘Do you swear…?’ ‘No’, I replied. ‘I have no idea what the rules of the trade union are.’ The panel looked bemused. ‘You really want to read the whole rule book before you agree?’ ‘Yes’, I replied. The shop steward thrust a copy into my hands then ejected me forcefully from the meeting. ‘Wait outside until we call you back in.’ I skimmed through the book then, on return, insisted I was exempted from default political party contributions, as was my right according to the rules. They looked intensely frustrated but had to consent. I don’t think such encounters changed the trade union, but they did change me. Some months later, I was sent on a 2-week residential apprentices' programme that aimed to stimulate personal leadership qualities. I challenged the senior managers there with whom, providentially, I had opportunity to speak. ‘Why invest in this programme when the prevailing management behaviour in the workplace is so autocratic? We need to change culture, not just individuals’. They looked deeply uncomfortable yet I held my ground. (They had, after all, encouraged personal leadership). At the formal dinner of the final evening, they invited me to sit at the top table alongside the most senior leader for that region. I was learning to navigate my way through power structures and systems and to exercise personal and political agency. [See also: Pivotal points] |
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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