 ‘Do not get too close to the leading aircraft. Do not get below the leading aircraft’s flight path. Be particularly wary when light wind conditions exist.’ (Civil Aviation Authority, NZ) Seat belts on. Buckle up. We could be in for a rough ride. Caught in wake turbulence, with a change of President in the cockpit and the USA veering off in a new direction, much of the rest of the world is struggling, suddenly and desperately, to regain stability: a sense of safety, security and control. A brace position is an instinctive human response: curled up in foetus position with head down and eyes closed tight, hoping or praying to survive. A crash landing can hurt. We may wish we’d paid for a seat in the exit row. Look now and see some world actors tipping their caps with feigned enthusiasm and rushing around frantically, shouting ‘Yes sir, no sir, three bags full, sir’; trying hard to win approval, make all the right noises and to do all the right things to please or placate the self-proclaimed King. It may well mean sacrificing long-held beliefs, values, principles and relationships but, hey – pragmatism over idealism. The end justifies the means. Sell your soul if the price is high enough and the risks and rewards seem worthwhile. Others, a minority, are speaking from the shadows in muted tones and attempting, in acts of sometimes naïve yet heroic-sounding bravery, to hold a shaken position. They work hard to look confident, to speak with sincere conviction from moral high ground, but anxiety shows its face through the look in their eyes, their wringing hands or their clenched fists. Straining nerves to hold onto hope, they cling to the remnants of an unexpectedly-redundant paradigm, resisting the urge to give up and get on board with a dominating new. One final group have closed their eyes, put their fingers in their ears, and are singing gently but happily from the sidelines, ‘La, la, la.’ It reveals a belief that, if they keep quiet and keep their heads below the parapet for long enough, it will all pass by. Sooner or later, everything will settle down again. It’s the mark of the optimist who doesn’t want to be troubled by an inconvenient truth. They ignore the dismantling of democracy hidden in plain sight and appear completely immune to the geopolitical drama unfolding before them. Each reaction represents, in essence, a defensive routine – flight, fight or freeze – in the face a perceived threat: a daunting future marked by anxiety and uncertainty. To react is, by definition, to follow. It’s what we do when someone, or something, has seized the initiative or taken it from us. What we need now is humble and courageous leadership; people who will bring hopeful vision, whose behaviour is rooted in ethical values and who are not seduced, buffeted or derailed by opportunistic possibilities or a gathering storm.
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 'We don't get to choose how we come into this world - but God gives the freedom to choose how we live in it.' (Frances Cabrini) The end of a year and start of a new one marks a transition point in the calendar and, at times, in our own lives too. It’s an opportunity to look back, re-evaluate, learn and make choices before casting our eyes forward to take next steps in a future direction. I find the best way I can do this is by taking time away from day-to-day distractions in silence, to sit before God and before myself, as if looking into a mirror long and hard to face whatever may surface into awareness. This kind of reflective examination sometimes helps me to avoid falling into repeating patterns of thought and action, often based more on habitual routines than on conscious decisions. Part of the challenge we may encounter is self-deception; made more difficult by subconscious projection (that is, framing others in ways that distort reality) and introjection (that is, framing ourselves in ways that distort reality). The subconscious part means we do it without being aware that we’re doing it. It’s a kind of fooling ourselves about fooling ourselves – a double bind, if you like. There’s a risk, on the one hand, that we believe what we want to believe – which is a way of defending ourselves from anxiety, confusion or stress – or, on the other, we believe what we fear most – which is a sign, driver and consequence of anxiety. And both without knowing it. So how can we get past this? I try a number of strategies. On the foundational hope, purpose and ethics front, I reflect prayerfully on the Bible and on other spiritual resources. On the professional development front, including to address my own hidden assumptions and risks of avoidance, I employ a talented coach who’s high in stimulus and in challenge. On the fresh thinking front, I network, read articles and write blogs to share and invite insights and ideas with and from others. On the international front, I work cross-culturally and, on occasion, visit other places and cultures. Taken as a whole, these approaches help me to stay, as well as I can, at the edge of my calling.  ‘You're either coming out of a storm, in a storm or heading into a storm.’ (John Easley) Urban myth: ‘If we can just get through this, there will be calm waters ahead.’ Now, I concede that things may be less turbulent for a while than they are in the midst of whatever dramas today may bring, yet the new normal is to face continual and complex change. Think back for a moment to the most significant experiences you went through in the past 12 months, personally and-or professionally. I imagine that some of those things were anticipated, some less so, and some came from completely out of the blue; appearing like a rogue wave from left field. Mixed metaphors apart…this reality was certainly true for a group of UK health and social care professionals I worked with this week. The winds of change have left some feeling buffeted, battered and bruised by waves and, at times, clinging onto what feels like a shipwreck. It was also true for a Filipina teacher this week who, on discovering corruption that impacts seriously on her poorest students, registered her protest and resigned from her post as a matter of principle: no job to go to but with her ethics intact. The officials in question are now breathing threats. The good news is that not all changes are or feel so rough. There are clearly experiences in life and work that we initiate, control or welcome. At those times, it may feel like we’re surfing the waves, enjoying the rush of the ride and savouring its benefits. So, what can we do in those situations where we do feel out of our depth? How can we grow in our resourcefulness and resilience? Here are 3 things I'm still practising: 1. Pray: open myself to God and his perspective; 2. Prioritise: focus on who or what matters most; 3. Prepare: develop myself to be more agile.  ‘Active listening creates the space for a person to hear their own voice.’ (Liz Dunphy) I had a fascinating conversation with a group of engineering managers at a coach training event with my colleague, Liz, yesterday. One of the things we looked at with the participant group was when coaching is an appropriate intervention, and when not. After all, coaching isn’t a magic bullet and it isn’t always the most efficient of effective solution to an issue. The managers were particularly concerned about the thought of delegating authority to less-experienced staff where serious health and safety risks and concerns were paramount. In order to illustrate where coaching can be useful, for instance where complex ethical or relational dilemmas are concerned and where there are no simple right-or-wrong textbook answers, I shared an example from my own personal experience. As a young apprentice in industry, two tradesmen once said they would sneak off-site to a pub. They insisted forcefully that, if the supervisor appeared, I should cover for them by saying I had seen them working behind a control panel. I felt conflicted ethically but didn't want to appear disloyal. (These managers yesterday leapt in with all kinds of different advice for how I could and should have responded, especially when I told them the supervisor did appear and I had felt forced to lie.) Shortly afterwards, the supervisor saw those same tradesmen crossing the car park, asked them where they had been, and they confessed to having been in the pub. The supervisor laughed off their misdemeanour with them but was furious with me, and it wrecked the trust in our working relationship. An integrity issue with relational consequences. Imagine, now, that I had been able to chat that situation through quickly with a colleague, a coaching-style conversation if you like, before making that fateful error of judgement. Imagine if they had given me a listening ear, space to hear myself say out loud what I was about to do. Imagine if they had reflected back my tone and expression so that I could have seen myself, as if in a mirror. Imagine if they had helped me think through a variety of different options and implications to make a better, wiser and more authentic decision. Imagine.  ‘Ethics is nothing other than reverence for life.’ (Albert Schweitzer) Are ethics situational or absolute? What might seem neat and tidy in a textbook or a classroom doesn’t always look and feel so clear when faced with complex realities on the ground. Picture this. Gill was working in a refugee camp amongst poor and displaced people. A boy, aged 12, approached her in a wheelchair. He’d had one leg amputated and the other was withered. ‘Got any fags?’ he asked. The thought of giving cigarettes to a child is a definite no-no…but what if he believed that’s what he needed to get through another bleak day of helplessness and hopelessness? An older boy offered to act as Gill’s bodyguard when she found herself surrounded by a large group of children whilst helping them to make free gifts of colourful wrist bands. ‘It’s not safe for you’, he argued. In return, he asked for the black bands. His plan was to corner the market and sell them to other boys. If Gill were to accept his offer, would that encourage entrepreneurialism or racketeering in the life of this young man? And how would he enforce her ‘protection’ among the mass of children who wanted to be there with her? How would they feel to be excluded? Gill sometimes sneaked in bags of rice because the food with which the refugees were provided was of terrible quality. Yet herein lay another challenge. As a volunteer, she couldn’t afford to buy such food for all 2,000 people in the camp. Would it be better to at least help some, with the associated risks of perceived unfairness, or better not to help any at all? If she were to be seen to show favouritism, what effect would resentment from others have on relationships within the camp? Should she eat her own, better food from outside to stay healthy whilst working there? A final and heart-breaking challenge came when a family invited Gill to their makeshift tent-home for sugary tea. It was show of hospitality, yet Gill felt conflicted as the family was already barely surviving on such meagre means. But to refuse would be culturally insulting. As she was about to leave, the father asked her in earnest, ‘Please will you take our son home with you? He would have much better opportunities there than here.’ Gill found herself wondering if she might do it, yet then felt torn for the impact on his family and for the other children she couldn’t take. Are ethics situational or absolute? You decide.  ‘People’s indifference is the best breeding ground for corruption to grow.’ (Delia Ferreira – Transparency International) The UK Labour Party leadership team has found itself embroiled in controversy this week over accepting freebies from rich donors. Some people feel incensed that those in national Government positions of power, privilege and wealth are willing to accept 'perks of the job' in the form of such gifts, when so many others in the UK are struggling financially to make ends meet. Some supporters feel dismayed that their trusted representatives could make such naïve errors of judgement. At a deeper level lays the real risk of insidious corruption – the same serious risk that dogged the previous UK Government too. If I’m in a position of political power and influence and I accept a gift from you, a rich donor, will it sway my political stance, advocacy and decisions? If I accept a gift from you, will I feel obliged to promote and safeguard your interests? Will this give the rich and powerful undemocratic access and influence over strategy and policy through the back door? I wrote recently about challenges in places like the Philippines, where endemic corruption has gained a foothold and saps the life out of people and society. A case in point is a grassroots entrepreneur I spoke with this week who faces obstacle after obstacle from bureaucratic authorities – unless willing to pay a ‘service fee’ (that is, a bribe) to get a permit to which she's already entitled. We do well to take heed. Once corruption gets a stranglehold, it’s almost impossible to release it.  ‘Always vote for principle, though you may vote alone.’ (John Quincy Adams) I never had the privilege of meeting Soji Taguchi, but I do wish I had. Soji was a manager at a Japanese-owned textiles factory in the Philippines. Seeing how meagrely the Filipino workers were paid, he gave away a significant portion of his own salary each month to top up theirs. When a young Filipina was severely distressed one day and, in her upset, damaged an expensive piece of machinery, he paid for the repairs himself. Instead of chastising her he listened to her plight and, subsequently, regularly slipped money (secretly) into her pockets to help her, a poor teenager, to pay her bills. This woman’s life is now a clear reflection of his. The power of a positive role-model. Ted Winship was my mentor, a shopfloor supervisor at an industrial site in the UK. Once, the workers refused to enter an enclosure because the conditions in it were so terrible. The manager told Ted that, if he could persuade them to do the work, they would all be paid a substantial bonus. Ted took the manager at his word. He entered the compound first and the work was completed on time. At the end of the project, however, the manager refused to pay the bonus and only gave Ted his. It was a serious breach of trust. On hearing of this betrayal, Ted confronted the manager but to no avail. He distributed his own bonus to the workers, resigned from his job and walked out. Ethics in action. Self-sacrifice for the sake of others. The personal costs were high – but the spiritual benefits were immeasurable.  ‘Tomorrow is the first blank page of a 365-page book. Write a good one.’ (Brad Paisley) It was my first time at a Greenbelt Festival in the UK and I remember wearing simple sandals made from recycled car tyres and a leather headband to keep my hair out of my face. I painted a cross on my forehead, carried a bamboo flute (which I couldn’t play) and walked with friends amidst the crowds towards the centre stage. Radical social activist, Jim Wallis, was the keynote and he spoke passionately about a place in the Bible where Jesus reveals who and what matters to him in this world. I felt spellbound. It resonated deeply with my own spiritual convictions – nothing to do with religious moralising and everything to do with a vision, an ethic, a possibility, a relationship. ‘I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ In this narrative, those to whom Jesus is speaking were puzzled and asked when they had done this. ‘Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ Jesus was sharing with astonishing clarity the lens through which he views our priorities and relationships. The way we treat others in need – the poor, the outsider, the sick, the oppressed – is the way that Jesus considers we reflect and treat him. Please God, as we enter this new year: shine your light of love, truth and hope through my life with ever-increasing brightness.  ‘If I had only one hour to save the world, I would spend fifty-five minutes defining the problem, and only five minutes finding the solution.’ (Albert Einstein) Action Learning is a powerful way to explore an issue, formulate a solution and enable personal agency to act and influence change. It can also be used effectively to enable a group with shared interests or concerns to work on and address an issue together. The first step in this latter approach often entails helping a group to formulate its own question or hypothesis at the outset, a bit like when conducting action research, to establish appropriate focus and boundaries. As a facilitator, we can invite the group to reflect on criteria and wider considerations as it performs this initial task. Here are some examples: a. In relation to this issue, who are they key stakeholders in the system? b. Do we have the right people in the room to address this issue? c. Is it feasible to make useful progress on the issue in the time we have available? d. Are there any ethical, intersectional, reflexive or relational issues we should pay attention to in how we do this? Sometimes, I notice that one or more participants may have an intuitive awareness, a feeling or a hunch that something is, say, anxiety-provoking, challenging or stuck in their system, yet they may struggle to articulate it. In that case, I may invite them to, for instance, draw a picture, tell a story or enact a stance to help surface whatever issues lay beneath for them. Then, we continue the process (above) to reach clarity and agreement, as a group, before we move forward.  ‘If you want to know what your true values are, have a look at your diary and your bank statement.’ (Selwyn Hughes) Take any example of an important-to-you decision that you have taken during this past week. Consciously or subconsciously, directly or indirectly, it will have reflected something of your underlying beliefs and values. At one level, every decision we take with awareness represents the outcome of a choice point, analogous to a choice of a direction at an intersection in a road. Guiding principles are a way of choosing to align our decisions and behaviour with our beliefs, ethics and values. I worked with a group recently where, during feedback, participants commented on how they felt impacted by what they saw and experienced as my ‘distinctive’ style and approach and, in particular, the power of my 'presence'. They were curious and asked me what, if anything, lay behind this – that which they had experienced – for me. What is it that makes the difference? I held up a small, yellow, post-it note to the screen. On it are written 3 words in my own scrawled handwriting: Prayer, Presence, Participation. These are, if you like, the guiding principles that underpin me personally and all of my work professionally. I carry them with me and have them stuck on my desk, beside the monitor. I pause and focus on them consciously and deliberately before, say, writing a message, joining a conversation or running a workshop. They really do matter to me. Prayer is inviting and opening myself to God’s insight, wisdom and power. He is able to reveal, do and achieve things that are truly impossible for me alone. Presence is ensuring quality of attention and contact with each person or group that I will meet. It’s viewing and approaching each person, each moment, as a sacred encounter. Participation is an invitational spirit that calls for humility and courage. It means engaging with people, not simply technology or any materials that we may use. At the end of the conversation, I invited each person in the group to reflect for a moment – for as long as they needed – and to write down 3 words that, perhaps, they would choose to underpin their own practice. They did this thoughtfully, alone, then each shared with others in the group what they had written. This felt so much deeper and more meaningful than simple words on paper could capture or convey. It was about integrity, authenticity and congruence: choosing to take a stance. What core principles guide the focus and parameters of your decisions and behaviour? What stance are you willing to take? |
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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