‘Conflict is inevitable, but combat is optional.’ (Max Lucado)

Dealing with unresolved conflict when the other party is uninterested in reaching a resolution can be incredibly painful and frustrating. Occupational psychologist Michael West refers to it the greatest source of stress at work. The same can be true in our personal lives too. If you find yourself in that situation, here are some grounded and constructive steps you can take:

1. Accept what you can’t control

The first and hardest step is often recognising that you cannot force someone to resolve a conflict if they’re unwilling. This sometimes means letting go of an ideal that all conflicts can be resolved. Acceptance doesn't mean you're okay with it; it just means you’re no longer fighting reality. The other party may come around in the future and they may not. That’s their call.

2. Reflect and own your part

Without over-assuming blame, honestly examine your role in the conflict, for example: Is there anything you need to make peace with yourself over? Would you do anything differently now if you could? Occupational psychologist Richard Marshall puts it this way: it’s about you – but it’s not only about you. This isn't about shame or guilt. It’s about clarity, learning and growth.

3. Set boundaries

If the conflict is ongoing (e.g. in family or work settings), create your own boundaries to protect your emotional energy and mental and physical health. This isn’t about avoidance. It’s about safeguarding your wellbeing. It may mean limiting contact with the other party as far as is possible; not discussing certain topics; and not expecting emotional reciprocity from them.

4. Express yourself (even if privately)

If the other person won’t hear you out, pray and write a letter or email that you don’t send. Say everything you wish you could – totally uncensored.  This can be a powerful way to externalise, process and release unresolved emotions and is much healthier than bottling everything up, like a smouldering volcano waiting to erupt. Catharsis of feeling can enable clarity of thought.

5. Seek closure without their participation

Closure doesn’t require mutual agreement. You can, for instance, ritualise a goodbye (e.g. burn a letter, enact something symbolic to forgive yourself and-or the other party); reframe the conflict as a chapter, not your whole story; talk to God (the Psalms in the Bible are a great illustration of this approach), a coach, therapist or trusted person to help you process it.

6. Reclaim your power

Letting go isn’t passive. It’s a courageous act of reclaiming your agency. Allowing another person’s behaviour to control our own is both passive and draining. Ask yourself: what does holding onto this conflict cost me? What would I gain if I released my grip on needing resolution? Act according to your own beliefs and values – and leave their behaviour to them.

7. Practice compassion (not co-dependence)

Try to understand why the other person might avoid resolution with you, for example through fear, shame, pride or immaturity. This doesn’t excuse their behaviour, but it can help to free you from bitterness. (Co-dependence is an unhealthy sacrifice of your own needs, doing whatever the other party wants, to make them like you or keep the peace). Compassion helps you heal.

‘Today is a day of shame. Shame on the perpetrators on both sides of this terrible conflict who have inflicted unimaginable suffering on civilians. Shame on the world for turning away while Sudan burns. Shame on the countries that continue to add fuel to the fire.’ (Erika Guevara Rosas)

Two years to the day since the latest conflict in Sudan broke out with brutal ferocity, the UK and (some) other countries are finally paying attention to the world’s worst humanitarian crisis. It’s a complex picture on the ground with geopolitical and ethnic tensions that create a devastating mix. While the world’s attention has been fixated on Russia-Ukraine and Israel-Gaza, Sudan’s civilian population has suffered horrific atrocities at the hands of merciless armed groups.

Conferences are too often a forum for noble speeches, hand-wringing and hand-shaking, virtue signalling on a public stage and, behind it all, a pathetic substitute for tangible action. (It’s as if talking earnestly about an issue makes us appear, believe and feel like we’re actually doing something). In the meantime, the violence continues unabated with no relief whatsoever for vulnerable people on the ground. Today's event must make a difference. Sudan needs action now.

What can you do?

*Pray for peace and hope in Sudan.

*Contact David Lammy, UK Secretary of State for Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Affairs to urge follow-through from this Conference initiative.

*Write to your local Member of Parliament (MP) to advocate for urgent and tangible action on relief, security and peace in Sudan.

‘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:

1. ‘They believe that whatever they’re spending time on is more important than spending time with me.’
2. ‘(Therefore) They consider their work on their priority X is more important than my work on my priority Y.’
3. ‘(Therefore) They think they are more important than me.’

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.

‘It is not enough to say, 'We must not wage war.' It is necessary to love peace and sacrifice for it. We must concentrate not merely on the negative expulsion of war, but the positive affirmation of peace.’ (Martin Luther King)

Armistice Day is a poignant moment to reflect on the end of the ‘war to end all wars’ – which, in spite of such terrible suffering and optimistic hope, didn’t end war. I will share some reflections here, drawing on critical conversations this month with lifelong peace activist, Rudi Weinzierl, in Germany.

Tension and conflict between countries and between state- and non-state actors is certainly on the increase. We aren’t (…some would say yet…) experiencing anything on the scale of the global World Wars of the 20th century – although the devastating impacts of current wars can feel like it locally – yet conflicts of various types are now taking place in the form of territorial disputes, proxy wars, economic coercion and cyber warfare. Here are some reasons why:

1.  Shift in global power balance

Emerging multipolar world: The global power landscape is no longer dominated by a single superpower. While the United States was the dominant global force in the latter part of the 20th century, in the 21st century other nations (most notably China and Russia) have increased their economic, military and geopolitical influence. This shift creates new friction as the established power and rising powers compete for regional dominance and influence.

Rising nationalism: Nationalist movements around the world have gained traction (including in liberal U.S., Europe and Scandinavia), often leading countries to adopt more polarised and assertive foreign policies, or policies towards foreigners within their own borders, to showcase strength and independence to their own domestic audiences and to other parties abroad. This can fuel aggressive rhetoric, civil tensions, military build-ups and territorial disputes.

2.  The dark side of human nature

Inherent human-social tendency: The human condition includes the potential for good and evil – although the meaning of these terms as socially-constructed (and associated ‘rights’ and ‘wrongs’) has moved away from absolutes. Attempts to understand and explain (and sometimes change) human behaviour have focused on nature vs nurture, and now neuroscience and genetic disposition. Whatever the origin, we see so much evidence of the ‘human tendency to f*** things up’ and, at times, sheer self-defeating craziness.

Political and media influence: Increasingly polarised and polemical rhetoric by politicians and in mainstream/social media often tap into the darker side of human nature. Social media lacks the formal, traditional accountability mechanisms that have governed, or at least influenced, mainstream media in national democracies until fairly recently. This leaves individuals, groups and whole societies open to influence by lies (fake news) and cynical manipulation.

3.  Territorial disputes and national identity

Historical grievances: Many countries and non-state actors have unresolved historical disputes over borders, territories and sovereignty. Issues like the status of the West Bank and Gaza, East Ukraine and Crimea, Taiwan, the South China Sea and the Kashmir region are all flashpoints where historical grievances add fuel to geopolitical tension and rivalry.

Protection of cultural and political influence: Some states view certain regions as essential to their cultural identity or political influence. China’s stance on Taiwan or Israeli/Palestinians’ competing claims on the West Bank, for instance, reflect not only territorial claims but also a deeply-embedded aspect of national identity and sovereignty.

4.  Economic competition and trade conflicts

Resource scarcity: Growing populations and rising consumption (fuelled by a near-universal belief that continual economic growth and material wealth are self-evidently good) create increased demand for resources including oil, minerals and fresh water. Disputes over access to these resources – often involving countries with overlapping claims like those in the South China Sea or DRC – can result in or risk escalating into militarised conflicts.

Trade wars and economic sanctions: Economic tensions, particularly between large economies like the U.S. (especially under its new president-elect) and China (with its relentless drive for expansion), can exacerbate hostility. Trade wars, tariffs and sanctions are used as tools of political influence but they can also create a hostile environment where countries and blocs (e.g. U.S., China, EU, BRICS) view each other as adversaries rather than trading partners.

5.  Arms race and military modernization

Increased ‘defence’ spending: Many nations (especially since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine) are investing ever-more heavily in their military capabilities; including nuclear arsenals, advanced weaponry and missile technology. This arms race enhances the global arms industry's profits, power and influence, and creates a sense of insecurity as competing countries or blocs feel insecure, threatened or pressured to keep up with or surpass their rivals.

New types of weapons: Development of new types of warfare technology such as drones, hypersonic missiles and AI-driven systems creates uncertainty. These technologies may also lower the threshold for engaging in conflict as often they don’t require putting troops on the ground or risking as many human lives, making military interventions seem less costly.

6.  Proxy wars and regional conflicts

Proxy warfare: Powerful countries often avoid direct confrontation by supporting opposing factions in other nations' conflicts. For instance, the Syrian civil war which saw involvement from the U.S., Russia, Turkey and Iran, each backing different factions; and Iran’s sponsorship of Hezbollah, Hamas and Houthis. Such conflicts can spiral, impacting global stability while remaining below the threshold of a formal, direct war between the major powers themselves.

Regional instability: Conflicts can occur in regions with weak governance, where external powers may intervene to protect their own interests or allies. This has been common in the Middle East, North and Central Africa and parts of Asia where conflicts over resources, religious and ethnic divisions and political instability invite foreign involvement. It is also leading to new alliances, for example the emerging Russia-China-Iran-North Korea axis.

7.  Technological warfare and cyber threats

Cyber warfare: In the digital age, countries and non-state actors increasingly target one another through cyber means. Cyberattacks aim to, for instance, disrupt infrastructure, steal intellectual property and influence public opinion. The clandestine nature of cyber warfare allows parties to escalate tensions without direct, visible confrontation; creating a background sense of constant threat and conflict.

Information warfare: Social media and other digital platforms allow states and non-state actors to interfere in other nations' politics. Propaganda and misinformation, exacerbated by use of AI (for example, deep fake) and hacking can destabilize and create mistrust between countries.

8.  Weakening of international institutions

Decline in influence of global institutions: International organizations like the UN, WTO, NATO and EU face challenges that limit their ability to prevent conflict. Rising nationalism and populist sentiment in many countries have led to scepticism of international bodies, weakening their capacity to mediate disputes and enforce peace.

Erosion of global norms: Norms that were once established and broadly-accepted internationally, such as respect for territorial sovereignty or non-interference in other countries’ affairs, have weakened in recent years. This erosion of norms can embolden countries to act unilaterally without fearing major diplomatic or economic consequences.

9.  Climate change and environmental stressors

Resource-driven conflict: Climate change effects have increased competition for natural resources, leading to conflict over land, water and food. Areas affected by severe droughts, floods or sea-level rise can create new waves of migration. The resulting population movements can contribute to tensions within and between countries and blocs too.

Strain on fragile states: Fragile states are particularly vulnerable to climate-related stressors which can destabilize governments, lead to civil tensions and conflict and create vacuums that foreign powers might exploit, either for resources or their own strategic advantage.

Can these trends be reversed?

While the causes are complex, we believe several steps could help to reduce international tensions and violence. (Having said that, we don’t see any evidence of leadership globally pointing in these directions at present; and we struggle to see how, as individuals, we can exert any influence whatsoever to change this):

New models of leadership: Leaders who value and model prayerful humility over arrogant posturing; mutual good over national self-interest; long-term sustainable goals over short-term expedient action; peace and justice for all over exploitation at others’ expense.

Strengthening diplomacy and conflict-resolution mechanisms: Diplomatic channels and innovative conflict resolution processes could be reinforced, with renewed global cooperation to address issues peacefully and collectively.

Building economic interdependence: Economic partnerships that foster interdependence could help reduce the likelihood of conflict. Countries deeply invested in trade and mutual economic gain may be less inclined to disrupt those benefits through violence.

Global action on climate change: Addressing climate change collaboratively can reduce resource-driven tensions. Initiatives focused on sustainable development, renewable energy and climate adaptation in vulnerable regions could mitigate some of the pressures that contribute to inter-state tension and violence.

Regulation of cyber and information warfare: Establishing global norms and treaties to regulate cyber activities and disinformation could help curb the impact of technology-driven conflict.

What do you think?

‘The first essential component of social justice is adequate food for all people.’ (Norman Borlaug)

For long enough, we had an excuse. We couldn’t see the world, except through black and white pictures in newspapers or, for those with sufficient wealth or other means, by international travel. With the arrival of the internet, however, that distant world has come to us. We can now see the poor directly, if we are willing to see, and if we can resist closing our eyes for just long enough to catch a true glimpse.

The images on screen can leave us shocked, cold or confused. A temptation is to withdraw, to shift our gaze and attention elsewhere, or to find and create ways to justify how things are and, in doing that, to attempt to absolve ourselves too. If we look for too long, we may start to look critically at our own world and view our own lives differently, and that can feel deeply unsettling, unnerving and anxiety-provoking.

Easier, perhaps, to tell ourselves something like this: ‘The poor are happy.’ ‘They don’t know any different.’ ‘They wouldn’t like it here.’ ‘Poverty is not having any money to worry about!’ We can try to justify ourselves too: ‘They’re poor because they don’t work as hard as we do.’ ‘I’m not rich. My wealth and lifestyle are normal in this country.’ Or the most cynical rationalisation of all: ‘Jesus said the poor will always be with you.’

In UK history, in rural communities, a successful harvest – or not – meant quite literally the difference between life and death. Yet there are still so many in the world who live on that sharp edge. Climate change with resulting drought or floods is forcing people into abject poverty or to flee. War and conflict are doing the same. People in such situations need help. We can change our own priorities and do something.

We can pray in the spirit of Jesus who said, whatever you do for the poor, 'you do for me.’ We can advocate on behalf of the vulnerable, e.g. write to your MP. We can provide relief for those who are destitute; e.g. give to a disaster appeal. We can support development efforts to build sustainable livelihoods; e.g. join or support an international charity. We can help address economic justice, e.g. buy Fair Trade.

Bottom line: 'Live simply, so that others can simply live.’ (Mahatma Gandhi)

‘What others say and do is a projection of their own reality. When you are immune to opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.’ (Don Miguel Ruiz)

It is, perhaps, one of the most limiting influences on personal growth and damaging influences on interpersonal relationships. A friend once described it graphically as being like carrying a data projector on one’s shoulder, then projecting images of the things we most dislike about ourselves – without being aware that we’re doing it – onto another person. The resulting impact is that we may well see and criticise those things in another, as if they are attributes of that person, rather than face, acknowledge and address them in ourselves.

On the receiving end of projection, it can feel bizarre, like someone is superimposing intentions, attitudes or behaviour onto us that just don’t fit, resonate or ring true. If we challenge or push back, the projecting person is likely to become defensive. Projection is, after all, a way of denying, avoiding or suppressing things that could cause pain or anxiety. I had this experience recently in a disagreement on social media when I asked, genuinely: ‘Are you aware of doing the same thing – here and now – that you say I’m doing?’ They blocked me.

Was my question a defended response? It’s a tricky question. How can we know, in the moment, whether we are projecting onto another person or, perhaps, in denial when we reject another’s feedback as projection? It is possible, for instance, that a person is projecting onto us, and yet there is a grain of truth and justification in what they are seeing and saying. It’s also possible that a person could, conversely, idealise us, projecting admirable qualities that they find difficult personally or culturally to acknowledge in themselves. It’s complex.

Here are some tips I find useful. Firstly, if I find myself critical of a person, group, issue or action, I try to imagine myself standing in front of a mirror. What could my criticisms reveal about me – e.g. my values, attitudes or instinctive behaviours? Could the other party equally and justifiably level the same criticisms at me? Secondly, if I find another expressing criticism of me, I try to ask myself honestly: how far does this reflect what I know about myself and feedback I’ve received from others? Could there be truth in this from which I can learn?

‘You could start a fight in an empty room, mate.’ (Allan Jones)

I’ve never sought conflict. Far from it. I much prefer harmony and peace. That said, however, I can’t escape a similar calling to that which Martin Luther King once heard: ‘Stand up for righteousness! Stand up for justice! Stand up for truth!’ It’s a call that burns deeply inside of me and has done, as far as I can remember it, for my entire life. I’m pained to admit that I haven’t always followed that voice anywhere near as courageously as MLK. I haven’t always handled it with his astonishing humility and love. I’ve stayed silent when I should have spoken up or spoken up when I should have stayed silent. My words have stumbled out clumsily. I’ve caused pain where I meant to bring healing and hope.

Yet, at times, this vocational stance has proved authentic, valuable and worthwhile. In my 30s, I worked for a large UK charity in the health and social care sector. As an idealistic young radical, I challenged the leadership team on numerous occasions when I believed we were compromising our values. I tried to do this with prayer and humility and out of a genuine desire to build relationship and trust. On one occasion, the leadership team decided, in view of limited budget, to increase only senior leadership salaries until it had secured sufficient funding to increase frontline staff salaries too. I argued vociferously that we should do the exact opposite – and to freeze my own salary as a first step.

On another occasion, the leadership team decided to reserve all spaces in its small head office car park for executives only, given that they didn’t have time to drive around to look for parking places elsewhere. I advocated passionately that, especially in the winter months, the spaces should be reserved for female and other vulnerable staff or visitors so that they wouldn’t have to walk along dark city streets at night to their cars. On yet another occasion, the leadership team recruited a ‘hatchet man’ on temporary contract to implement a tough restructure with associated redundancies. I protested that this blunt way of approaching the change would damage relationships, engagement and trust.

At times, I imagined my challenges and counter-proposals were met with deafening silence or heavy sighs – especially as I wasn’t a senior leader at the time. Nevertheless, when a serious crisis broke out between the leadership team and entire middle management, both sides to the conflict invited me to mediate as ‘the only person they could trust’. The chief executive, a man of remarkable humility, took me into his confidence and treated me like a respected thought-partner. When I moved on, the company secretary wrote to me to say he had never encountered such integrity. Even the dreaded ‘hatchet man’ wrote that he wouldn’t hesitate to employ me alongside him in any future role.

Pray with humility – take a stance – speak the truth in love.

‘For me, revolution simply means radical change.’ (Aung San Suu Kyi)

I heard a well-known pop psychologist on the radio this week, talking about his new book about how to make your New Year’s resolutions stick. He invited the listeners to buy his book in order to learn more. I didn’t do that, but it did bring to mind a number of things I’ve noticed over the years as I work with people, teams and organisations. I will share a couple of insights here that may be of interest and useful – and I promise not to ask you to buy anything.

The first is how hard it can be to make significant and sustainable changes to habitual patterns of thought and-or behaviour. A wise friend, Ian Henderson, illustrates this simply by inviting people to fold their arms. Next, he invites them to fold their arms in the opposite direction. (I found this harder than I had imagined). He goes on to invite them to reflect on what routine they always use to dry themselves after a shower. We are creatures of habit.

That’s OK when the routines serve us and-or others well. If, however, people become trapped in, for instance, patterns of tension or stress, if often demands more than fresh thinking, determined effort or will-power to change it. So, here’s the second. Try disrupting the physical context in which it takes place; for instance: meet in a different room or location; use different chairs; sit in different places to where you normally sit; stand up rather than sit down.

I worked with a team that felt trapped in conflict. They invited me to help them work through it so I asked that we hold our first meeting where and at the time at which they normally met. When we did so, I asked them where they normally sit, including in relation to each other. (‘Exactly where we are now’). At the next meeting, I changed the time and, before participants arrived, rearranged the room completely, then invited them to sit somewhere different.

The shift in group dynamics was remarkable. Disrupting the times and room configuration created enough of a change to enable the team to hold a different spirit, style and type of conversation. This, in turn, helped team members to relax enough to consider and create new possibilities. It released the stuck-ness and enabled a breakthrough of sorts that wouldn’t have been possible by thinking or talking alone. (Like this idea? Look out for my new book…)

​You arrange to meet with a colleague and, on the afternoon of the appointment, she neither turns up nor cancels it. It can feel disappointing or frustrating, especially if you had spent ages preparing for it, or had rescheduled other things to make room for her in your diary. There may be, of course, all kinds of extenuating circumstances that had prevented her from arriving or letting you know. We could imagine, for instance, that her car had broken down on route, or that she had got stuck in traffic in an area with no mobile phone signal. She might have been held up in another meeting that overran and from which, for whatever reason, she had felt unable to excuse herself.

Feelings of hurt or resentment can arise, however, if we allow ourselves to infer deeper meaning and significance from the no show. This can be especially so if it forms part of a wider and repeated pattern of experiences. Could it be, for instance, that her unexpected absence (again) is revealing a subtle and subliminal message such as, ‘Spending time on A is more important to me than spending time with you on B.’ Or, beneath that, ‘I believe my work on A is more important than your work on B’. Or deeper and worse still, perhaps, ‘I’m more important than you.’ The latter could well leave us feeling devalued and disrespected and, if unresolved, damage the relationship itself.

I worked with one leader, Mike, who modelled remarkable countercultural behaviour in this respect. If Mike were in a meeting that looked like it may need to overrun, he would: (a) pause the meeting briefly (irrespective of how ‘senior’ or ‘important’ the person was whom he was with); (b) speak with whomever he was due to meet with next (irrespective of how ‘junior’ or ‘unimportant’ that person was); (c) check if it would be OK with them to start their meeting later or, if needed, to defer it; and (d) take personal responsibility to resolve any implications that may arise from that rescheduling. Needless to say, Mike’s integrity and respect earned him huge loyalty, admiration and trust.

When have you seen great models of personal leadership? How do you deal with a no show?

‘When the bombs were falling like rain, Jennie stayed here with us.’

As a leader in international NGO, Tearfund, Jennie had always struck me as a quiet and unassuming person. We visited community rebuilding initiatives together in Lebanon just after the harsh and brutal civil war. Amidst shattered buildings, lives broken by sectarian conflict, aerial bombardment of the Beirut power station (just as we arrived) and Syrian ‘peacekeeping’ troops everywhere, we met with Christian leaders who recounted countless stories of heartache and hope.

One of the things that struck me most was their deep reverence and respect for Jennie. Whenever she spoke, they listened with profound attention. Curious about this, I asked one of the leaders about it afterwards. He replied, ‘During the war, most NGOs withdrew because it became too dangerous for them to stay. Jennie was different. She refused to abandon us. When the bombs were falling like rain and we had nowhere else to run to or hide, Jennie stayed here with us.’

I felt completely speechless, humbled and amazed. I imagined myself in that same situation: how I would almost certainly have fled for my own safety – and have found or created very good reasons to justify myself for doing so. Yet what an impact now. The leadership and influence that Jennie was able to bring to this work by having been-with; not based on any hierarchical status, power or authority she held, but on a deep and incarnational, presence, relationship and trust.