All posts by Dorothy Nesbit

How well are you listening to your customers?

Yeah!  Today I’m flying to New York! I’ll be flying out with members of the London Symphony Chorus to sing in two concerts this week at New York’s Avery Fisher Hall before flying back after our concert on Sunday.  I’ll be back at my desk in time for work on Monday!

Along the way, I had an experience I still find very strange.  And I must confess, it concerns one of my favourite organisations – First Direct.  Over the years, I have regularly taken out travel insurance with them so it seemed quite straightforward to phone them up again, to get put through to their insurers and to renew my insurance.  But no – this is roughly the conversation I had when I spoke to a representative at Aviva:  What’s the purpose of your visit?  I’m going to New York as a member of an amateur chorus to sing in a couple of concerts.  So it’s a professional trip?  No, we’re amateurs – we’re not being paid.  But it’s not leisure…  Well, yes, in my eyes it is – singing is something I do as a hobby.  Quite quickly, I was asked to approach a specialist insurer for this trip.

I found it hard to get any clear explanation about why I would not be insured as a member of the LSC.  I have been insured for business trips under the same policy in the past so even if they were classing this as a professional trip why would this policy not cover it?  I asked the person on the phone what risks he saw that would not also apply on any other leisure trip and he didn’t have an answer.  I decided to let the team at First Direct know I wasn’t happy.  They gave me another number and encouraged me to phone and try again.  The explanation was clearer this time, though I didn’t enjoy it very much.  We don’t class this as a leisure trip because of your singing commitments.  And yes, we do insure people for business trips, but only for work in administration.  I asked if I could check my understanding, expecting to get a simple, yes, that’s right.  Instead, I got another explanation, which seemed to me to be a little longer and still, essentially, the same as the first one.  I could see the risk that we might go round in circles without ever getting to the point where the person talking to me would say, yes, that’s right, these are the reasons why we won’t insure you.

After talking to a few members of the choir (has anyone else had an experience like this?  Who are you insured with for this trip?) I visited my local Post Office, picked up a leaflet for their travel insurance and made a call.  I made sure to check that they really would cover me on my singing trip and the representative seemed rather amused when I told her about my experience with Aviva.  Yes, we’ll cover you for this and other singing trips.

As I sit here and write I am wondering what I needed from Aviva that I didn’t get – recognising that it wasn’t just insurance.  I know I wanted a clear explanation that I could understand – not just that I could understand the words but also that it would make sense to me in a way that the explanation I received just didn’t.  Also I wanted the representatives of the organisation to stand behind their explanation – to act as if it made sense to them.  When I checked my understanding and didn’t get to a clear, yes, that’s right… I found myself wondering if the reasons for the no made sense to the person I was talking to.

And why does this matter?  It matters to me as a customer.  It also matters to Aviva, because customers have a voice – they tell their friends about their experiences, they put it on the internet.  One man, after his guitar was broken in the hands of America’s United Airlines, and having exhausted all the possibilities for raising the issue with them without gaining compensation, wrote a song about it and posted it on YouTube under the heading United Breaks Guitars.  At the time of writing, Dave Carroll’s song has received close to 11,000,000 hits on YouTube.

Mmm… maybe I should write a song about Aviva…

When emotions rise high in the workplace

Recently, I was surprised when someone responded to a posting I’d made on a discussion forum by saying that I’d been a bit “harsh” in my posting and describing it as “inquisitorial”.  Initially I was stunned:  I couldn’t square the response with the content or – more importantly – the spirit and intention of my posting.  It took the response of a second member of the forum, which included a number of inferences-presented-as-truths, for me to become aware that a misunderstanding of gigantic proportions had occurred.
One member of the forum responded by writing an impassioned plea:  “I have watched the ‘warm’ exchanges and have become more convinced of the futility of communicating anything other than data via email, forum postings or equivalent batch communications.  Texting with emoticons helps but it is still a very poor option.  Chatting helps because of the instant nature of the responses.  Face to face is the name of the game or telephone/Skype as a second best.  To communicate well we need the subtleties of body language and tone of voice…  Have we not learned the lessons that we teach to others?”  Niels Bohr, physicist, is variously quoted as saying that the opposite of a fact (or a trivial truth) is a falsehood but that the opposite of a great truth may also be true.  I wonder:  what are the opposing truths of electronic communication in the third millennium?
My colleague on the forum summarises one side of the case and echoes a view which is widely held by those who train others in communication in the workplace.  They point to the greater risk of misunderstanding between people by e-mail, when inferences are easily made.  They also point to the greater likelihood that people will reach a new understanding if they take time to communicate directly.  Receiving an e-mail from a colleague who is angry or upset, you may choose to respond in kind – it’s easy for one angry e-mail to stimulate strong emotions in the recipient who may well react in the same vein rather than taking time to process the emotions the e-mail stimulates before choosing a wise response.  The wise response may well be to pop your head round your colleague’s door and say “Wow!  I got your e-mail and I can see you’re not happy.  Can we talk?”
So what is the opposite of this point of view?  Personally, I wonder if it’s good enough in the third millennium to say that e-mail is simply for communicating data and anything else belongs elsewhere.  There is, of course, the question of what constitutes “data” – isn’t it all (including the angry e-mail) data?  There’s also the question of how we work today.  I have any number of clients who have colleagues, clients and other key contacts on different continents and who need to communicate effectively across geographies and time zones, making face-to-face and even telephone communication challenging.  Above all I wonder if the opposite point of view is this:  that it’s not the medium of communication (e-mail, phone, face-to-face) but the skills we have in communicating – the emotional intelligence – that make the difference, no matter what medium we use.  Even the man or woman who stops to think “Oh!  This is not one to respond to by e-mail”, for example, is succeeding in his or her communication because s/he brings insight and understanding as much as because s/he chooses to communicate face to face.
For me there are two truths to add here:  that communication is inherently difficult and that organisations could be far more effective in addressing the challenges inherent in communication.  On reflection, I wonder if my posting stimulated strong emotions in at least one of my colleagues.  I say this without judgement – not least because I, too, experienced strong emotions on reading his words.  This is the “amygdala hijack” Goleman describes in his books on emotional intelligence.  At the same time, there are things we can do that make it more likely that we will be successful in our communications.  Some of them take time and effort to learn – it’s not easy to master your emotions in the moment, for example.  Some of them can be translated into simple rules, such as “check your inferences before you respond”.  One of them is to accept that successful communication is possible only when we accept and embrace the full panoply of human experience and the role it plays in communication, which is often messy and difficult before it’s successful.
Recently I pointed to some of my favourite resources in this area in a blog posting entitled Handling Objections.  I wonder, what is your truth when it comes to communication in the workplace?

As a leader are you “judge and jury”?

On Monday, after spending four years in jail, the young American Amanda Knox was dramatically cleared of the murder of British student Meredith Kercher after her initial conviction was over-turned.

Knox’s original conviction was based on DNA evidence which was later found to be unreliable.  As I write, an article in the New Scientist has highlighted that even before the trial that led to the conviction of Knox and her then boyfriend, Raffaele Sollecito, there were questions about the strength of the DNA evidence on which the case against the pair rested.

It’s hard to imagine the experience of Meredith Kercher’s family members following her death.  We can barely understand the depth of grief and loss, the yearning for answers (Who killed her?  Why?), the desire for justice for their daughter.  It’s a little easier to understand the pressures that members of the police face to get to the answers to those questions.

There is a risk that, for all sorts of reasons, the police respond to the pressures they face by seeking not so much to uncover the truth as to construct some credible “truth” that will lead to a conviction.  A point comes when evidence is met not so much with open curiosity (what is this telling us?) as with a clear intention to convict (can we use this to support our case?).  After a while, the detective is blind to the very truths he has uncovered because they no longer support him in his aim to convict.  Perhaps the original case against Amanda Knox and Raffaele Sollecito was built in this way.  Perhaps it was not.

All this is a long way from the workplace of my readers and still, I wonder if there is some message here for you as a leader.  I wonder if, at times, it seems easier to you to make a case against a member of your team or a colleague in the board room, in order to meet some needs of your own.  Perhaps, for example, it’s easier for you to judge your team member as “lazy” or “incompetent” than it is to see how much s/he is struggling in a new job and to recognise how much you, as manager, have failed to provide the guidance and developmental support s/he needs.  Perhaps, in the Boardroom, it’s easier to dismiss your colleague with a few swift judgements than it is to wonder, “what are his real concerns?” and to explore together what needs you both have that need to be met if you are to come to an agreement that works for your department as well as hers or his.

The signs that you are doing this are easy to spot.  Maybe you are looking for the evidence that supports your case, for example, and dismissing any evidence that might tell another story.  Perhaps you are more concerned with being “right” (and proving that the other person is “wrong”) than you are in building mutual understanding.  Perhaps you are rooted in a single truth rather than open to new information and the possibility that you may, in time, come to a new perspective.

As a leader are you “judge and jury”?  Do you want to be?  If you do, I recommend you ask yourself why and explore your answers fully.  Maybe, in time, you’ll come to a new perspective.

Working as a team to handle objections

Recently, I wrote a posting about handling objections, in which I pointed to a number of resources that are available to the leader who is learning to handle objections in negotiations.  I also asked colleagues about their experiences and fielded an interesting example from someone who, like me, is interested in what Roger Schwarz calls a ‘mutual learning approach’.

Using this approach an objection is not taken as some kind of tactic to achieve the best outcome for the person raising the objection.  Rather, it’s seen as a statement of genuine concern.  By understanding the concern that sits beneath the objection, the person negotiating can think about whether he (or she) can adjust his approach in order to meet the needs of the person objecting, whilst still meeting his own needs.  This is negotiation with the aim of creating outcomes which meet everyone’s needs – a “win, win” outcome.

My colleague’s example speaks for itself so, with his permission, I share it here:

Recently, I had an experience that may be relevant.  When I work with clients I use a charge sheet for different services with different rates for non-profits and for commercial organisations.  I show this to clients on the first business development meeting and I am transparent on how I come to the figures and engage in discussions about the costs and numbers involved.


In a recent discussion with a client there was an objection to the amount listed in the invoices.  I kept the discussion open through my choice of questions.  Originally I didn’t understand his needs with regards the objection.  I also had a need that I didn’t want to have to manage a unique costing structure for this client and potentially for every client.


Exploring the need to modify the amount listed on the invoices, I learned it related to the charge rates of another consultant who happens to be the former MD within my client’s company.  My rates were considerably higher.  Now that was a potentially embarrassing, risky situation!  I can remember the slight glow in my cheeks as I realise the comparison and how my client explained that “Head Office” would see these rates.


In exploring the rates using the mutual learning style, we were able to accommodate and resolve this issue through increasing the transparency of the documentation to show the time I spent on planning and documentation.


I was genuinely trying to be transparent, curious about the client’s needs.  I explained my reasoning, understanding that we both had information that was different – me and my client.  We were doing our best to be mutual learners.

Revisiting our sense of identity

Tuesday evening.  As I write my alarm is set for a 5am start tomorrow, when I’ll be packing my bags to go to Glasgow as a member of the London Symphony Chorus.  We’ll be singing in our fourth out-of-town concert in just two weeks, performing our third work – James MacMillan’s St. John’s Passion.  This is the opening concert of the new season for the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra and will be broadcast live on BBC Radio on the evening of Thursday 29th September 2011.

For a few weeks now I have been aware of how busy we’ve been as a choir and this feeling has been all the more intense in recent days as I struggle to find time for the most basic tasks and make jokes about the risk that I shall soon run out of clean underwear.  Today though, I notice something else:  how strong is my sense of identity as a singer right now.

Of course, we all have multiple identities, related to all sorts of activities and relationships in our lives.  At home we may be parents, children, spouses.  At work we may be professionals of some sort, as well as managers, leaders, team members.  Our hobbies confer additional layers of identity.  And then there is the sense of identity that comes with our gender, sexuality and much more besides.

Often, there is an interplay between our sense of our identity and additional layers of truth, so that it’s hard to say with confidence “Yes, this is who I am”.  If we hold too tight to our sense of identity we miss the opportunity to learn and grow.  Our identity as parent becomes stuck at a time when our children were still children, for example, and we miss out on the joys that can come when we allow our relationship to develop as we and our children develop.  At the same time, our sense of identity supports us in the world, acting as a compass or guide.

As we move through our careers there will be times when our sense of identity is one or two steps behind the role we inhabit.  A promotion often leaves us with a sense that, somehow, we don’t belong.  My title is Director of X, Y, Z but who am I to be in this role?  We find ourselves looking over our shoulders and wondering who will be first to notice the incongruity.

The sense of discord (no musical pun intended) is a healthy one because it invites us to explore who we really are.  Is this the right role for me, and if it is, who am I becoming in this role?  And if it’s not, who am I and what role might be right for the person that I am?  At the same time, we may find that layers of identity that were laid down when we were very young – perhaps even laid down by our parents when they were very young and handed down to us – are still in the mix, long after they relate to any objective reality.

It’s time to explore who we have become and who we want to become.  It’s also time to uncouple those things we confuse with who we really are, such as behaviours borne of habit, or the labels we place on ourselves (or others on us).

Is it “accountability” when senior heads roll?

24 September 2011.  Just days after the shock announcement that UBS has identified and arranged the arrest of “rogue trader”, Kweku Adoboli, the news came through that UBS CEO Oswald Gruebel has stood down from his post.  The Bank’s chairman, Kaspar Villiger, said that Gruebel “feels it is his duty to assume responsibility for the recent unauthorised trading incident”.

I notice that my heart sinks when the response to failures in the public domain (in politics, or amongst public servants, or in highly visible senior roles in the commercial sector) is to let some senior head roll.  What does it mean to assume responsibility in this context – and others like it?  There are, clearly, two ways in which someone takes responsibility.  The first is to acknowledge some error that has enabled failures to happen.  This is taking responsibility for what has happened in the past.  There is also the question of who will address the underlying causes of an issue that has happened in the past or the systemic weaknesses that allowed it to occur.  This is taking responsibility for sorting out what happens in future.

It seems to me that when heads roll the people concerned perform a rather strange double face.  On the one hand, by falling on their swords, they appear to say “mea culpa” and others have the option to say “quite right, too!”  At the same time, they tend to say nothing about what it is, precisely, that they take responsibility for so that even as they say “mea culpa” they walk away from any real responsibility they may have.  Equally, even as they say “mea culpa” they may be walking away from holding others to account by whose acts an error occurred.  And of course the man – or woman – who leaves their job in this way does nothing to address the underlying issue, leaving this to a successor who comes in unsullied to the role.

There is, of course, the question of appearances.  Who knows what conversations UBS Chairman Kaspar Villiger may have had with CEO Oswald Gruebel about the need to appease shareholders with decisive action.  I wonder, are shareholders, journalists and other interested parties really so naive?

For my part, I’d like to see a more robust form of accountability in the public domain.  At the very least, public statements would say more about what it means to “take responsibility” in cases such as these.  Perhaps Kaspar’s statement would say “Gruebel was concerned that such a thing could happen on his watch and realised he had not been doing all he needed to to ensure robust risk management in the bank” or “whilst Gruebel is proud of the work he has done for the bank he realised it needs somebody else to get to the bottom of what happened and to make sure it can’t happen in future”.  Then, at least, we would have some insight into what “responsibility” means in this context.  Personally, I find that responsibility – accountability – comes when there is a level of detail in the public statement which makes meaning transparent.

I realise that I am standing on my soapbox right now and I am ready to step down from it – for now.  I wonder how you respond to the rolling of Oswald Gruebel’s head?

Handling objections

It’s price negotiations time.  The prospect of handling sensitive discussions is looming and so is the question:  how do I handle objections from my clients?  In truth, your current and long-standing clients can be the ones who are getting the best deal as a result of your long history of agreeing an increase that doesn’t quite work for you.  So where do you go from here?

It’s easy to come to these discussions seeking to dismiss your clients’ objections – even seeing your clients’ concerns as “objections” stimulates a certain way of thinking.  I wonder, how are you viewing the possibility that your client might express concerns?  What does the word “objection” evoke in you?  And then there’s the question of your underlying philosophy as you approach your discussions.  I particularly raise this question because for many people, this lies outside their conscious awareness:  what beliefs are your bringing to your discussions of which you are not even aware?

Personally, I favour approaches which come from the desire for everyone to come away a winner – this will come as no surprise to regular readers of my blog, who know how much I favour Marshall Rosenberg’s Nonviolent Communication and Roger Schwarz’s Skilled Facilitator Approach.  You can find out more about Rosenberg’s approach by browsing the website for the Center for Nonviolent Communication or reading his book Nonviolent Communication:  A Language for Life.  Equally, you can root around on Roger Schwarz’s website, sign up for his newsletter, buy articles, or his book The Skilled Facilitator Approach.

But what about handling objections?  Amongst my fellow students of Schwarz’s Skilled Facilitator Approach some point to the books that spring from what’s known as the Harvard Project:  William Ury’s Getting Past No:  Negotiating Your Way from Confrontation to Cooperation, Roger Fisher and William Ury’s Getting To Yes:  Negotiating An Agreement Without Giving In and Bruce Patton, Douglas Stone and Sheila Heen’s Difficult Conversations:  How To Discuss What Matters Most.

Others recommend the VitalSmarts series which includes Kerry Patterson, Joseph Grenny, Ron McMillan and Al Switzler’s Crucial Conversations:  Tools for Talking When Stakes Are High, and by the same authors Crucial Confrontations:  Tools for Talking About Broken Promises, Violated Expectations, and Bad Behaviour and Influencer:  The Power to Change Anything.

I also wonder about Neil Rackham’s SPIN Selling, recognising that this gives an overall framework in which to view objections – and recognising that many other authors and thinkers have tackled this same subject.

I wonder, in what situations do you handle objections and what resources (books, ways of thinking etc.) have you found most helpful?

When peace breaks out in the workplace

UN International Day of Peace

The United Nations’ (UN) International Day of Peace (also known as “Peace Day”) is celebrated on September 21st each year to recognise the efforts of those who have worked hard to end conflict and promote peace.  The International Day of Peace is also a day of ceasefire – personal or political.  But what, you may ask, does Peace Day have to do with your life in the workplace?  The answer is easy to determine.

As you reflect on this question, I invite you to reflect on any relationships you have in the workplace with people around whom you feel less than comfortable.  Perhaps you’ve had an unfortunate experience or experiences in relation to that person, group, team or department.  Perhaps you’d like to enjoy greater ease in your communication with them.  Perhaps the mere thought of them stimulates emotion in you.  You are not at peace.

In all likelihood, your life at work (and maybe at home) is just a little bit harder as a result.  Thinking about that person stimulates thoughts and feelings in you that you don’t enjoy.  Working with them seems to be a real grind.  The tiny impacts accumulate over time, using energy that you could otherwise put to good use and without any real return on your mental, emotional and physical investment.

What would your life be like if you were at peace in relation to that person or people?  How would it be different for you – mentally, emotionally, physically…?  I invite you to imagine how your life would be different and how your experience of life would be different if only you were at peace.  I invite you to take time to imagine this more peaceful life and even to try it on for size.  What does it feel like to be truly at peace?

And here’s a harder question:  what would it take for you to be at peace with that person or people, no matter what their behaviour?  Because here’s the rub:  if you are thinking that your experience is only down to them, you’re giving away your power to make a difference in your own life and, as a result, you’re missing the chance to be truly at peace.  Meantime, the nagging unease, the frustration, maybe even the anger and the fear, continue to eat away at you.  Your ease, your effectiveness and your well-being are all affected.

There’s something more.  As a leader, you need to know how you can achieve peace when faced with behaviours you find difficult because you need to be a role model in this to those you lead.  Your personal Peace Day is an example to your staff.  It also provides the basis for you to coach and support them when they’re finding it tough to get along with their colleagues.

I wonder, what do you take away as a result of reading this posting?  And what are your personal next steps towards living your life in peace?

Photo copyright, iStockphoto.com, Sue McDonald


From another point of view

Friday, 16th September, 2011.

I was up at 4am this morning to travel to Bonn, arriving in my hotel at about 1pm local time.  Having checked into my room my first task is to find the best possible option for making a 90-minute phone call to the US which is scheduled to take place at 6pm.  I’ve already established a cost of about £800.00 from my hotel room and of about £180.00 from my mobile.  There must be a better way.  The hotel point me to a road which has a number of what they call “call shops” and I make my way to find out more.  Entering the first one I come across I find that the cost is less than 14 Euros – about £13.00.

Is it me or is the manner of the man who answers my questions one of irritation?  I know I’m not looking to pay Rolls Royce prices and still, I’d like a little of what some people call “service”.  I leave with the information I need and walk past Beethoven’s birthplace before a hasty lunch and making my way to the Beethovenhalle where I shall be singing in the evening.  I have special dispensation to leave our rehearsal to make my call and I do this.

In the call shop – a kind of internet cafe – I am directed to booth 6 where I make my call, joining colleagues from around the world.  I am perched precariously on a chair which squeaks noisily every time I adjust my position and still, I am able to participate fully.

When I finish the call my time is tight – my concert starts in little more than half an hour and I have to get back to the Beethovenhalle.  Still, it has made a huge difference to me today to find a low-cost way of making this call.  I take a few moments to thank the man and to tell him how much difference it has made to my day.  He seems surprised and we get talking.  “Sind sie Deutsch?” (Are you German?) he asks.  I say no and our conversation takes a new course.  He asks me where I come from and how I came to learn German and I ask the same of him.  He came from Somalia three years ago and has been grappling with the challenges of this language since that time.  When we say goodbye I find I have, without thinking, extended my hand and we shake hands.

I come away with a different perspective.  The grumpy man of the afternoon has become a human being – someone for whom speaking in German poses challenges and someone, too, who is ready to go beyond the strictly transactional and to connect with another human being.  I wonder how much my own diffidence – both about taking out my rusty German and brushing it off and about about asking the questions of the entirely ignorant as I make my first ever visit to a call shop – were factors in my experience in the afternoon.

Either way, as I look at things from a new perspective, everything changes.

Hidden influences in the world of work

My nephew, who is an aficionado of QI and a fan of obscure and quirky facts, recently shared a couple from the world of classical music – that Beyonce is a distant cousin of composer Gustav Mahler and that Pierre Boulez  was preceded by a brother who died before he was born and who was also named Pierre.

Boulez’ experience reminded me of the work of Bert Hellinger in the field of family constellations, which suggests that to be named after a dead relative, whilst a loving and well-meaning gesture by one’s parents, can bring unintended and unhelpful consequences as all sorts of aspects of the parents’ experiences – their grief at the loss of a child, for example, or the weight of an increasingly idealised image of the deceased – increasingly become entwined in the experience of the young child.

The principles that underpin family constellations apply as much in the workplace as they do elsewhere in life, so that I was curious a while back to listen to John Whittington sharing his experiences as a constellations practitioner with a group of fellow coaches.  I write on the subject today from the perspective of an interested lay-person, curious about the hidden influences that shape our experiences in the world of work.

There is of course, the direct transfer of our experience of family dynamics into the workplace.  It’s a common experience for even the most senior of professionals to expect their line manager to behave towards them in the way their parents did – or to hope that their line manager will offer something of the love and care they yearned for from their parents but didn’t get.  Such expectations are often outside our conscious awareness, or perhaps we’re aware of them but haven’t stopped to question our assumptions about the relationship between a manager and the person s/he is managing.

Some examples reflect responses to experience in the workplace.  In one organisation, for example, a mistake by one employee cost the company a significant sum of money.  But there was a larger cost:  after the employee was dismissed his colleagues understood that to make a mistake was unacceptable and their assessments of risk included a large and unacknowledged dose of the irrational.  This habit quickly became ingrained in the company’s unwritten rules:  because nobody addressed the issue head on, no conscious decisions were made about what adjustments were needed in the company’s approach to risk and yet many adjustments were made.  These were not always for the commercial good.

In his talk John Whittington gave an intriguing example of constellations, when he described how he had asked a group of students on an MBA course to stand in a circle in order of age so that the youngest would end up standing next to the oldest.  When they did, something didn’t feel right to Whittington and he said so, waiting patiently until one of the group owned up:  they had been lying about their age.

Why does this matter?  To work with constellations is to recognise the hidden forces at play in the workplace and to engage with them – in other words to engage with the full range of information that is available and to shine a light on information that is otherwise hidden.  This opens up new possibilities for making progress in areas where previously the organisation, or people within it, were stuck.  It also opens up the possibility of improved health and well-being for the organisation and those who work within it.