 ‘Whatever status or power you have, use it for those who are vulnerable; whatever money you have, use it for the poor.’ (Jasmin, Philippines) We face a global paradox. Some reports show that the wealth gap between richer and poorer countries is narrowing and, at the same time, the wealth gap between the richest people and poorest people within those countries is widening. The reasons behind these changes are dynamically complex and, as a non-economist, well beyond my ability to grasp. That said, I’m interested in how, psychologically, we make sense of and respond to such phenomena. Deutsche Welle (DW) produced an interesting documentary in 2024 that showed how the wealthy often attribute their success to their own personal qualities such as their attitudes, abilities and hard work. By contrast, the poorer often attribute their poverty to environmental conditions that lay outside their ability to control. It’s an example of attribution theory, a way of explaining (and, sometimes, rationalising or justifying) our varied human experiences. In my work, I see the polarity itself is too simplistic. I do see individuals who stand out from the crowd in their own culture and context, shattering the mould and breaking free from apparent constraints to achieve success. I also see individuals who possess similar qualities yet fail to make headway because they simply don’t have the same opportunities. It’s as if the cultural and contextual tide they are born into is way too strong to swim against alone. At the same time, I see individuals who become wealthy in spite of demonstrating little effort or aptitude on their own part, as if the inherent benefits of their background, context or connections naturally sweep them upwards. I also see individuals who possess everything it would take to become successful in their own context yet, for whatever reasons, don’t grasp the nettle or take the plunge. At times, it’s just that different people have different priorities. The counter-example that inspires me most is Jasmin in the Philippines. She grew up among the poorest of the poor where, contextually-speaking, the odds are absolutely stacked against her. Yet by power of prayer and determination, she defies a universal human instinct for acquisition and achieves the most incredible things. As far as personal wealth is concerned, she refuses to swim upwards and, instead, uses everything she has for the benefit of the poor. I want to be more like her.
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 ‘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.  ‘Stop scrolling. Start doing.’ (Kati Kaia) You see the headline. Another war, disaster or existential threat looming on the horizon. Your breath shortens, your heart tightens and for a moment, just a split second perhaps, you feel that primal rush of adrenaline. Your body is gearing up for battle – but there is no enemy in front of you. There’s no fight to be won and no obvious action to take. Just a screen, glowing with catastrophe, and the realisation that you are completely powerless to stop it. This is the fight-flight-freeze response, an ancient survival mechanism designed to protect us from immediate danger. But, in the digital age, it’s being hijacked. Instead of running from a predator or standing our ground in a real-life threat, we’re reacting to the relentless tide of global crises flooding our news feeds. And the worst part? There’s nowhere for that energy to release and dissipate. When faced with a real, tangible danger, our nervous system activates to help us respond – fight back, escape or play dead until the threat passes. But when the threat is abstract, distant or beyond our control, this energy has no resolution. Instead, it lingers, simmering beneath the surface, manifesting as anxiety, burnout or even physical symptoms like fatigue, headaches or stomach cramps. Chronic exposure to distressing news can lead to what’s called ‘headline stress disorder.’ It’s a psychological phenomenon where constant exposure to crises keeps the nervous system in a perpetual state of high alert. The body can’t distinguish between immediate danger and an article about geopolitical tensions. The result? We’re left feeling exhausted, restless, and emotionally drained – and yet, somehow. unable to disengage. While I believe it’s important to remain aware of global events, especially given the international scope of my own interests and work, we don’t have to sacrifice our mental well-being in the process. Here’s are some tips for how to break the cycle (that I’m practising too): 1. Recognise the physical response: The next time you feel that surge of stress while reading, listening to or watching the news, pause. Notice your breath, your heart rate and any tension in your body. Awareness is the first step to regaining control. 2. Limit your exposure: Set boundaries on your news intake. Try checking the news only once or twice a day instead of constantly refreshing your feed. Consider turning off push notifications for breaking news unless it’s directly relevant to your life. 3. Engage in physical activity: Since the fight-flight-freeze response is designed for action, find a healthy outlet for that energy. Exercise, go for a walk or even shake your arms and legs. Physical movement can help regulate your nervous system. 4. Focus on what you can control: Instead of fixating on problems you can’t solve, redirect your attention to actions within your reach. Chat with others, write to your MP, support a local cause or do related volunteer work to restore a sense of agency. 5. Balance negative news with positive (*see below): Despite media narratives, the world isn’t only crises and catastrophes. Seek out stories of resilience, innovation and positive change. Follow groups that highlight solutions, not just problems. 6. Practise grounding techniques: Breathing exercises, prayer, meditation and mindfulness practices can help signal to your nervous system that you are safe. Simple techniques like the 5-4-3-2-1 method (naming five things you see, four you touch, three you hear, two you smell, and one you taste) can pull you back into the present moment. Yes, the world is full of challenges, but it is also full of people who care, who take action and who make a difference. And that includes you – even if your first step is simply putting down your phone, taking a deep breath, saying a prayer and reclaiming your own sense of peace. [*For positive news channels, see: Good News Hub; Good News Network; Positive News]  ‘A significant role of leadership is to identify vicious cycles and find ways to turn them into virtuous cycles.’ (Clinton Keith) ‘Fortunately, the virtuous cycle is every bit as cascading and self-amplifying as the vicious cycle.’ (Bruce D. Perry) Ever felt stuck in a downward spiral? You try to push forward but something keeps pulling you back. That’s the nature of a vicious cycle, a pattern where negative thoughts, emotions and behaviours keep reinforcing each other, keeping you trapped. Just as negativity feeds on itself, so does positivity. That’s the nature of a virtuous cycle. Shift the pattern and you can move from a cycle that drains you to one that empowers you. Picture this: You hesitate to speak up in a meeting because you’re afraid of sounding foolish. You stay quiet, others dominate the discussion and you leave feeling even less confident. Next time, the hesitation grows even stronger. That’s a vicious cycle. Try this: You take a deep breath and contribute just one point. You realise no one ridicules you. Encouraged, you try again and confidence starts to build. A virtuous cycle begins. Or ever had an argument where both sides keep retreating into defensiveness? One person withdraws, the other feels ignored and lashes out, making the first withdraw even more. Round and round it goes. Flip the script. Instead of shutting down, acknowledge the other person’s frustration. A simple ‘I hear you’ can create a shift. The more you listen, the more they soften. The more they soften, the easier it becomes to connect. Or picture a toxic workplace where micro-management breeds resentment and that creates disengagement. People feel stressed so they make mistakes, or undervalued so they do the bare minimum. Managers tighten control, making things worse. Switch the cycle. Trust. When leaders empower people, engagement increases. Engaged people perform better, reinforcing trust. Performance improves. A virtuous cycle.  ‘A rising tide lifts all boats.’ (John F. Kennedy) It has been an intense career journey for me. A background in counselling and community development that evolved into coaching and organisation development grew from a natural interest in nature, people and societies; particularly in addressing those things that enhance or inhibit quality of life. My first forays were in animal rights then later evolved into human rights. My early awareness, convictions and actions in these fields were galvanised firstly by living in fear of local school bullies, then of a psychopathic head teacher. I noticed parallels in what goes on within and between people, and what goes on within and between groups. I also noticed an interplay between individual attitudes and behaviours and those supported by broader social systems. At age 11, for instance, I remember vividly walking home from school, reflecting critically on how a teacher could cane a child within the school without any redress… and yet if they were do that once that same child had left the school grounds, they would be arrested and prosecuted for assault. This led me to believe that pathology exists not just in individuals but in systems too, systems that create or collude with the darker sides of humanity. As a teenager, I was drawn to study the horrors of the Nazis and the interplay between Hitler, das Volk and the circumstances that led to their catastrophic rise. An encounter with Jesus helped me to reflect more deeply, to see that this dynamic can work both ways. We can equally create the conditions in a person, a system, a society, that nurture and bring out the best. So, this has been my goal in coaching and organisation development and, more broadly, my work with and for some of the poorest and most vulnerable people and communities in the world. Akin to self-determination theory, how to support the growth of individual spirituality, values and agency in the face of all kinds of challenges whilst, at the same time, to nurture the conditions in which people are most likely to thrive. A rising tide is good, so long as the sea is clean and healthy – and not polluted by deadly toxins.  ‘Depression comes from repressing old memories of past events we did not come to terms with, the unresolved emotions and lack of power. Anxiety is the fear of the lack of control of the future. We only fear what we feel we cannot control.’ (Soni Weiss). It reminds me of Lao Tzu’s observation: ‘If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present.’ And Rose Eliud: ‘The past only exists in our memories. The future only exists in our imagination. The only reality is now.’ The immense power and potential of being present to the present. Yet, for some, this can feel much easier said than done. The overwhelming emotional weight of past losses, regrets or failures can, at times, feel like a sinister force dragging them down into deep, dark waters, struggling to breathe. For others, an intense fear of the future can feel like a terrifying force, like being stalked by shadows at night or being gripped tightly, sending adrenaline pulsating wildly into a panic. Depression and anxiety reverberate together if their past was painful and they can’t see any prospect of a brighter future. If you find yourself walking this precarious tightrope, I hope you won’t give up. I’m not a therapist so I won’t offer you advice. I try to stay present to the Presence in the present moment. It’s different to mindfulness. It’s trusting in a Person, a relationship, that gives me hope. Who or what helps you?  ‘In the face of impending catastrophe whose warning signs are already unbearably disastrous, weak action is unwise. No action is dangerous.’ (William Ruto) ‘I had only heard about plane accidents on the news, but now I was about to experience one. Interesting, I thought. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ the flight attendant announced, oddly calm, like she had done this all the time. ‘We are going to need to prepare for a crash landing. I need you to listen to me very carefully.’’ These are the gripping opening words in Mark Smeby’s book, ‘Losing Control.’ I love his sense of humour in what must have been an utterly terrifying experience. Having just closed those pages this morning whilst on a visit to Germany, my mobile phone beeped with an ominous message: ‘Extreme Danger’. Something about a ‘Warning’ and ending with a word that looked like ‘Catastrophe’. ‘Oh…a scam?’, I thought. Then, a few minutes later, it beeped again. Same message. I looked out of the window. No sign of anything alarming. Should I get up quick and crawl under the table? Turned out to be an annual Bavarian state test signal. It could have been, however, a serious precursor to what did happen next. I flicked on the TV. ‘Today, I’m pleased to make the largest deregulatory announcement in US history.’ Lee Zeldin, Administrator of the now painfully-ironically-named US Environmental Protection Agency. He was proudly declaring, with astonishingly gleeful smile, the reckless actions of a superpower that could accelerate the consignment of all life on earth to the non-existent history books. 3 warnings. 2 turned out OK. The 3rd is a slow-motion crash and burn we may not survive.  'A physicist friend of mine once said that in facing death, he drew some consolation from the reflection that he would never again have to look up the word ‘hermeneutics’ in the dictionary.’ (Steven Weinberg) I’m reading Henri Nouwen’s deeply introspective, honest and inspiring book, ‘The Return of the Prodigal Son’. At the start, the writer reflects on the relationship between Jesus’ original narrating of the parable in one time and context; the artist Rembrandt’s depiction of that account in a painting in a different time and context; and his own reflections of both, each in light of the other, in yet another time and context. As I'm reading the book here and now, I find myself in the centre of that hermeneutical triangle, in the midst of my own life and context too. This notion of hermeneutics, the art of interpretation and how we place ourselves in relation to an experience or a narrative, is important in psychological coaching because the ways in which clients construe and interpret their experiences shape their emotions, behaviours and decision-making. Social psychology provides some hermeneutical principles – attribution theory, perspective-taking and social constructivism – that I find useful to help clients shift their thinking patterns and develop a greater sense of awareness, understanding and agency. Attribution theory examines how people explain life events: whether they see a cause in themselves or in external circumstances. A balanced approach acknowledges both personal factors and external influences. A client who failed a job interview may say, ‘I didn’t get the job because I’m just not good enough.’ A coach could reframe this by asking: ‘What feedback (if any) have you received from the employer, and how do you interpret it?’, or ‘Apart from your own performance, what broader factors might have influenced the panel's decision?’ Perspective-taking is the ability to step into another person’s shoes and to view a situation from their standpoint. This skill is vital in coaching because clients often become stuck in a rigid, self-focused interpretation of events. Suppose a client is frustrated because their boss gave them critical feedback. They feel attacked and believe their boss doesn’t appreciate their hard work. A coach could ask: ’What assumptions might you be making about your boss’s intentions?’, or ‘If a colleague were to receive similar feedback, how might they interpret it?’ Social constructivism suggests that many of our beliefs about identity, self-worth and success are shaped by societal norms and cultural messages. Coaching can help clients recognise and challenge these inherited beliefs. Example: A client struggling with work-life balance may say, ‘I feel guilty if I’m not busy all the time.’ A coach could ask: ‘What messages did you receive when growing up about the value of hard work and being busy?’, or ’How do the expectations in your work environment reinforce or challenge your current beliefs around 'busyness'?’  ‘Presidential elections are a form of madness that comes over us once every four years.’ (Rebecca Solnit) Observing the 7 weeks old President in news headlines each day often feels like watching a school bully’s behaviour in a playground – or a proverbial bull in a China shop. Perhaps that's what dispensing with any felt need for multilateral relationship or diplomacy looks like. Some cynics argue that, when it came to international relations, ‘relationship’ was always euphemistic anyway: marriages of convenience would have been more appropriate. We're feeling the threat of a divorce. It looks, to me, like a zero-sum game deal-maker on steroids. A fixation on win-lose outcomes is the preserve of the rich and powerful – or a disturbing trait of a sociopathic tendency. I keep hearing ‘transactional not ideological’ to describe this style. It’s a word play, a claim that self-interested pragmatism is somehow a values-free approach, rather than the actions of a leader who appears to believe breach of trust is a price worth paying for unilateral 'greatness'. As I witness the flip-flopping of strategy and policy, the mixed-messaging, the alternative facts, I keep asking myself – is this the work of a negotiating genius; someone who wins the game by disorientating the other players, creating maxim instability and insecurity with the unblinking stare of a poker player… or is it a megalomaniac whose outward actions are a terrifying manifestation of internal chaos? Only time will tell. I hope there’ll be enough of the world left to pick up the pieces.  ‘This isn’t about giving up on goals and dreams or rolling over and playing dead until the game is over.’ (Mark Smeby) I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the relationship between human needs, the ways in which we attempt to address our needs and the subsequent impacts on our lives, relationships and sense of well-being in the world. I notice that, if I look to other human beings to fulfil my most fundamental spiritual-existential and emotional needs, sooner or later I will almost always feel hurt, disappointed or frustrated. Worse still, I risk becoming insecure, anxious, depressed, brittle, possessive, defensive, manipulative or controlling. That’s a list of qualities I wouldn't feel proud of. I often notice similar patterns for my clients too – people and teams I coach to help them grow in insight, fulfil their potential and achieve their goals. Many coaching-related issues boil down to clients’ challenges of how to deal effectively with unmet needs. It could be in the context of personal or work relationships or, more broadly, circumstances that aren’t what they expect or hope for. I also notice that, if someone looks solely to me to fulfil their deepest spiritual-existential and emotional needs, sooner or later I will leave them feeling hurt, disappointed or frustrated too. I’m practising an experiment: to sit quietly, take a deep breath and try to lay my needs before God with open mind and heart: ‘Nick, let go of your need for (X).’ For instance, ‘…to feel noticed… wanted... loved… cared for… listened to… heard… understood… respected… appreciated… admired.’ Or ‘…for intimacy… friendship… happiness….’ Or ‘…to be treated with fairness… compassion… justice…’ Or ‘…to be not rejected… not betrayed.’ Simple – but not easy. Yet, in letting go of the need and the implicit demand that may go with it, I’m less impacted if and when others don’t meet it. Now, to be clear, I do want, value and appreciate these things. I also believe they are profoundly important for healthy people, relationships and societies as a whole. It’s more about learning to lose control, to loosen my grip on something – an unmet need – that could otherwise take an unhealthy hold of me. It’s about being open to God at the core of my being. It frees me up to give and receive more freely, including (I trust) to be a more humble, courageous and effective coach. I love how Iain Matthew expresses this: ‘The freedom of a love that doesn't have glue on its hands.’ |
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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