 ‘I know you think you understand what you thought I said but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.’ (Alan Greenspan) What could possibly go wrong? Many years ago now, I arranged to meet up with a new Ugandan colleague. We were both living in the UK, on opposite sides of London, and we had agreed to meet at 10.00am at a building close to where he lived. Having travelled across the city through busy traffic, I arrived punctually at 9.55am. By 10.30am, however, he still hadn’t turned up. I didn’t have any way to contact him and I remember feeling increasingly frustrated and disrespected. At 10.35am, he strolled up casually as if nothing was wrong. Trying not to display my irritation, I said, ‘I had thought we would meet at 10.00am.’ ‘Yes’, he agreed, with a wide, relaxed smile on his face. That puzzled me so I looked down at my watch pointedly, without saying a word. ‘Oh’, he responded – a light bulb moment. ‘10.00am in African time means sometime this morning. I didn’t imagine you’d get here at 10.00am exactly.’ This was one of my first introductions to cross-cultural values, priorities and communication. We had agreed a time without realising we had each meant a different thing by it. Yet crossed-wires can happen in all kinds of relationships. I often see it arise in tensions between line-managers and their reports; team members and their team colleagues; teams working in different functions etc. I created the sample grid (above) to help untangle the wires or to help avoid them becoming crossed in the first place. It focuses on clarity and agreement in relation to, in this case, focus and boundaries. The goal is to use the tool to help surface implicit underlying assumptions and expectations and avoid confusion or stress. It can be adapted for delegation to clarify, for instance, what is negotiable and non-negotiable when it comes to decision-making, e.g. I’ll decide; We’ll discuss and I’ll decide; We’ll discuss and we’ll decide; We’ll discuss and you’ll decide; You’ll decide and ask me if you need help. Or, when delegating a task: I don’t mind what you end up with as long as it will serve X purpose; What you end up with must meet X criteria – you decide what best does this; You must end up with X – how you do it is up to you; You must go about it X way – you sort out the details.
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 ‘A self-fulfilling prophecy is a false definition of a situation, evoking a behaviour that makes the (originally) false conception come true.’ (Robert Merton) I sometimes see it coaching conversations. For instance, a Director believes a new manager will be unreliable because of a vague rumour they’ve through the organisational grapevine. So, she delegates fewer responsibilities to him than to other managers, avoids involving him in big projects and checks on him constantly. As a consequence, the manager feels mistrusted, disengages and performs poorly. The outcome appears to confirm the Director’s original belief. We could imagine an alternative scenario in which, conversely, a Director genuinely believes a new manager can handle a high-stakes project well. She expresses confidence in his abilities openly, demonstrates trust, provides opportunities for autonomy and celebrates wins with him along the way. As a consequence, the manager feels empowered, works collaboratively and exceeds the project goals. This outcome, too, appears to confirm the Director’s initial belief. So, a reflexive question for a Director to consider could be something along the lines of: ‘What’s my contribution to what I’m experiencing in this new manager?’ Is there something I’m thinking, feeling or doing that could potentially (at least in part) evoke or influence the outcome? This isn’t about confirming or denying the validity of the Director’s initial assumptions. It’s also not about absolving the manager of their own part. It is about an awareness of relational dynamics. It's about noticing the impact of belief on behaviour and corresponding results.  ‘If you don’t know where you are going, you might wind up someplace else.’ (Yogi Berra) I was reminded this week of theories of change and strategy maps. They are, in essence, visual representations of what we do and why. If you were to imagine writing or depicting a desired outcome (vision, or goal) at the top of a sheet of paper then under that, say, 2-3 key objectives (critical conditions, or success factors needed to fulfil that outcome) then, under each objective, say, 3-5 key activities that would achieve them, there you have it – in simplest form. If you read upwards, it will answer the question, ‘We do this so that…’ and, downwards, ‘We achieve this by…’. It enables a conversation around, e.g. ‘What assumptions are we making?’ or ‘Have we properly understood the critical conditions for success?’ It also enables prioritising of activities by asking, e.g. ‘Which of these activities are we already doing well?’ or ‘Which do we need to stop, start or do differently?’ Make it creative and it’s a great communication tool.  ‘As coaches, the greatest tool we need to cultivate is our self.’ (Pamela McLean) Many years ago now, during a masters’ degree core module on psychological dynamics in organisations, I said to a colleague in a spirit of curiosity, ‘I keep feeling an impulse to hug you.’ They looked amazed and said, ‘I’m feeling really vulnerable today.’ I had no idea from their demeanour. They always presented as very calm, relaxed and confident. We discussed this in light of the programme focus that day and concluded that, intuitively and subconsciously, I had picked up on something of their anxiety and need for reassurance. A number of factors were at play here: it was unusual in our relationship and, mysteriously, it somehow felt like it was something about me, but not only about me. In later years, whist doing a postgraduate course in coaching psychology, I discovered this kind of noticing can be used powerfully in coaching conversations. Psychological practitioners call this use-of-self, the idea that what we observe in and between ourselves during an interaction can be used tentatively as an instrument for awareness-raising in another person. I use the word tentatively here because it’s about exploring a possibility and not superimposing our own feelings or interpretations onto the other. I saw this opportunity arise in an intense conversation recently where a manager was working very hard to cajole a team member into demonstrating greater proactivity and initiative. The team member was nodding in passive agreement rather than playing a more active role in their own development. Imagine if the manager had paused, reflected, and fed this back as an observation instead: ‘I’m feeling (intra-personally) a strong desire to see you being more proactive…and I’m wondering (inter-personally) if I’m taking too much initiative in this conversation.’ It's as if the manager imagines herself momentarily stepping out of the relationship to stand in an observing place; then looks back at herself, the team member and the interaction between them and shares what she notices from that place. This would bring here-and-now experience into focus and invite the team member to reflect critically on their own agency too.  ‘Our cultural strength has always been derived from our diversity of understanding and experience.’ (Yo-Yo Ma) Assertiveness is often framed as a positive trait – being clear, direct and confident in expressing our thoughts and needs. But in cultures where relationship, harmony and saving face are highly-valued, a Western style of assertiveness can sometimes feel abrupt or even rude. It’s a lesson I’ve learned – no, I’m still learning – through having made painful and embarrassing cross-cultural mistakes. So how can we adapt an assertive approach without losing our voice? Here are some general rules-of-thumb: *Observe and learn: Pay attention to local communication styles. Notice how disagreements or requests are typically handled. *Use indirect language: Try to frame your points in a way that aligns with cultural norms (see practical examples below). *Be mindful of non-verbal cues: In high-context cultures, non-verbal communication carries weight. Ensure words, tone and body language are congruent. *Seek local feedback: Engage with culturally-knowledgeable friends or colleagues to refine your communication approach. Here are some practical examples: 1. Listen beyond words: A Vietnamese colleague told me, ‘Yes doesn’t always mean yes here.’ Instead of relying solely on verbal confirmation, pay attention to body language, tone and hesitation. If someone says, ‘That might be difficult,’ they may be politely saying no. Example: If you ask someone if they can meet a deadline and they respond with, ‘That could be a challenge but we will try our best,’ this may mean they cannot meet it. Try asking, ‘I understand it’s difficult. What timeline do you think would be realistic?’ 2. Use indirect language: Rather than saying, ‘I disagree with this approach,’ try, ‘I wonder if there’s another way to look at this?’ or ‘Would it be possible to explore an alternative?’ Softening language allows for discussion without putting anyone on the spot. Example: If a team in Thailand proposes an idea you find impractical, instead of rejecting it outright, you could say, ‘This is an interesting idea. What challenges do you foresee in implementing it?’ This approach encourages dialogue without shutting them down. 3. Frame feedback as a question: Direct or implied criticism can feel very personal in some cultures. Instead of ‘This report isn’t clear,’ try ‘How do you think we could make this report even clearer?’ It invites reflection and change without causing embarrassment. Example: If a junior colleague in Singapore submits a report with errors, instead of saying, ‘This isn’t detailed enough,’ ask, ‘Could we add a bit more background information to clarify this section?’ This encourages improvement whilst maintaining respect. 4. Leverage relationships: In hierarchical cultures, feedback is often best received through the appropriate channels. Instead of challenging a senior colleague directly, discuss concerns privately or ask a trusted intermediary to raise the point. Example: If you need to push back on an unrealistic request from a senior manager in the Philippines, rather than directly saying, ‘This won’t work,’ you might discuss your concerns with a colleague who has a good relationship with them and ask them to introduce the idea tactfully. 5. Respect the pause: Silence is powerful. In Western cultures, we may jump in to fill gaps. But in cultures where people reflect before responding, allow pauses. If you ask a question and don’t get an immediate answer, don’t rush to rephrase – wait. You might get a more thoughtful response. Example: In a negotiation in Cambodia, you propose a fee rate. The other party remains silent. Instead of jumping in with a revised offer, wait. The pause doesn’t necessarily mean disapproval. It may signal they are considering it.  ‘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!  ‘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.  ‘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.  ‘If you’re not confused, you’re not paying attention.’ (Tom Peters) Leaders who develop strategy collaboratively with diverse key stakeholders often find that inviting others in proves critical to its success. It recognises that no leader, no matter how knowledgeable or experienced, can know everything and it values the contribution that others can bring. That said, leaders can also feel overwhelmed if levels of participation are high and inputs are complex. These tips (below) are, therefore, designed to help leaders sift through and make sense of the reams of hopes, ideas, information, impressions, data etc. that they may surface and receive through strategy research and through inviting input from various people and groups. They are not intended as a prescriptive one-size-fits-all set of rules. Have a glance and see which, if any, work best for you. 1. Don’t panic In the midst of some great information and ideas, you are also likely to receive input that will look unclear, confusing or contradictory. There may be handwriting you can’t read, comments in shorthand that made sense to the person who wrote them but don’t make sense to you etc. You may receive so much input from diverse people and sources that it could feel bewildering. If so...don’t panic! 2. Research questions Go back to your research questions. Use them as a guide to sift through the input you have received. How far does the overall input contribute to answering the questions you set out to address? Has any of it raised wider or deeper questions that need to be acknowledged? Is any of the input interesting but distracting? Avoid the temptation to race down fascinating rabbit holes that take you off track. 3. Test a hypothesis Some leaders suggest formulating a hypothesis – a provisional answer to the questions you set out to answer – before sifting through responses. This provides a focus, a testing stone, and enables you to check each response: ‘Does this support or contradict the hypothesis?’ If it doesn’t relate to the hypothesis, shelve it for now so that you don’t get distracted. You can always circle back to it later. 4. Cluster responses Some leaders prefer to start with a blank sheet, skim through responses and note intuitively what core themes or ideas emerge. You can then place responses under those themes, adding or modifying themes as the sifting process progresses. Don’t worry about identifying the themes perfectly too early. You can always hone them and see what answers they point towards later. 5. Test your biases It can be tricky for leaders to look at responses afresh, especially if we have a strong interest in the work we do currently or strong views about how we should move forward. During the research phase, I refer to these challenges as ‘blind spots’ (assumptions) and ‘hot spots’ (sensitive areas). Invite others to test your assumptions and to point out if you appear to avoid challenges or new ideas. 6. Trust the process We may have invited and received input from a diverse range of people and groups. Whilst no strategy research will ever be 100% exhaustive and conclusive, the insights that we draw through a collaborative strategy venture will in most cases be good enough – that is, good and enough as a signpost to the future. Pray, be confident in what you know and excited by what you discover!  ‘When trouble arises and things look bad, there is always one individual who perceives a solution and is willing to take command. Very often, that person is crazy.’ (Dave Barry) We can think of leadership as the property of a structure, in which a person designated as a 'leader' holds particular responsibilities and has, at least in principle, the hierarchical authority needed to fulfil them. We can also think of leadership as an intrinsic property of an individual. In this sense, leadership is something that resides within and emanates from a person, something that she or he has and does. This is the realm of competency frameworks and of leader-development initiatives. We can also think of leadership as the property of a group; for instance, a leadership team. In this idea, shared leadership is something exercised by a collective, where a diverse united group is, in potential, more than the sum of its parts. We can also think of leadership as a property of a dynamically-complex eco-system, in which acts of leadership emerge, sometimes unexpectedly and from unexpected places, and exert influence. This is the arena of dispersed and distributed leadership. In organisations, I’m finding the latter perspective especially useful. When working with leadership teams, I invite participants to reflect on the eco-system (cf Gestalt: field) as a whole; for instance: 'Where is leadership-as-influence exercised, inside or outside of the organisation’s boundaries? What are the distinctive roles and responsibilities of different 'leadership' entities within the system? What are the relationships between them? What does each need from the others to be effective?' I notice this invariably opens up far deeper, wider and richer conversations than those that focus on individual leaders alone, or leadership teams in isolation, as if they exist in a cultural-contextual vacuum. Some people find it useful to experiment with mapping their eco-system graphically, recognising that any depiction will reveal and, therefore, create opportunity to open up to healthy exploration and challenge, the way in which they construe their reality and leadership dynamics within it. |
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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