All posts by Dorothy Nesbit

Musings at the start of the week

Monday morning.  I’ve been all round the houses this weekend – to a school visit on Friday as part of the Pearson Teaching Awards judging team (and when the visits are national they can be a long way away), to my niece’s Hen Party in Bristol on Saturday (catching up on Friday night with a treasured friend) and then to Birmingham on Sunday to join 599 other singers in our first joint rehearsal of Havergal Brian’s Gothic Symphony, which we’ll be performing on Sunday 17th July, 2011 as part this year’s series of Prom Concerts at the Royal Albert Hall.

So, it’s been quite a weekend!  I wish I could say more about my school visit on Friday and – because I am committed to the judging process and want to maintain confidentiality – I can’t.  My niece’s hen party was a blast as well as a reflection of so much that makes her who she is (and her parents the ones who have and continue to nurture her).  We have a buffet lunch as her guests – circa 35 assorted friends and family – gather in Bristol before going on a treasure hunt around Whiteladies Road, gathering answers in response to a whole load of clues and ending up with afternoon tea, scoring, prizes and much hilarity.  We get changed for dinner before a boat trip and then supper – a rather wonderful and ample supper – in a Chinese restaurant tucked away somewhere near the harbour.  On Sunday morning I catch the first train to Birmingham to sing.  It isn’t early – 9.30am from Bristol – and it isn’t fast, meandering cross country on it’s way to Brum.  Not early – though it seems like it!  The last few days have involved early starts and late finishes and they’re catching up with me.

Our performance next Sunday will be only the 6th performance of Brian’s Gothic Symphony since he completed it in 1951 and tickets have been sold out for some time now.  Why so rarely performed?  Members of the Havergal Brian Society will certainly protest at any suggestion that it is because this music is in any way lacking.  Rather, the symphony requires huge forces (including 6 – 800 singers, 190 orchestral players and soloists) a venue which can house both performers and an audience, funding and a conductor who is sufficiently audacious (or mad) to undertake to conduct such a complex and demanding piece.

As I travel back from Birmingham after our rehearsal I reflect on those people who are prepared to take on something which others have not – or only rarely – dared.  The composer, in sharing his or her work, faces the unknown in terms of the response s/he may get – a response which may change over time.  What may seem mad to some inspires the admiration of others.  And at the time of creation there is no knowing what the life story of a piece may be, including the life-story of the composer’s own relationship with his or her work.

This is, of course, true for us all.  This has been amply illustrated this weekend as the demise of the News of the World follows revelations whose impact reverberates far beyond the empire of Rupert Murdoch.  It seems to me that many people have their hands dirty right now – the journalists who hacked phones, the leaders (Rebekah Brooks, Andy Coulson) on whose watch they acted, the police who took money in exchange for information, the police who decided not to investigate, David Cameron… the list goes on and on.  Our actions follow us long after we have taken them.

The response of some is to look around them, seeking to determine what will be acceptable and taking care to be above reproach.  This strategy is utterly exhausting and largely ineffective – with so many people out there and with such diverse views there is always a judge.  And still, it takes courage to do the best we know how in a given moment, knowing that those who set out to judge may have little or no understanding of our aims and intentions.  The more ambitious the aims, the more we expose ourselves to judgement, to possible failure and perhaps, worst of all, to insignificance.  We all want to make a difference.

Reasons not to be human in the workplace: reason 4

Recently, I wrote a posting for Discuss HR entitled To what extent is it really OK to be human in the workplace?  My aim was to explore the extent to which we feel able to express ourselves fully and authentically in the workplace and to explore some of the reasons why we don’t.  In this posting I highlight what I’m calling “Reason 4” and expand on it.  

Perhaps a fundamental reason why we struggle to be fully human in the workplace is that we don’t know how.  Many of us, growing up in a culture (any culture) in which we are not sponsored in being fully human in the workplace, may yearn for something different AND we are likely to lack insight and understanding into alternative approaches.  We have, after all, grown up in and absorbed the very culture we are seeking to move away from.


To be fully human is to engage with the full range and depth of our experiences and to know that they are just that – our experiences.  As a broad generalisation, Western cultures sponsor rational thinking and discourage the expression of other aspects of our experience such as bodily sensations (our gut reaction) and feelings.  What’s more, over time, we take this bias to mean that, insofar as we have emotions, sensations etc. which are not rational, there is something wrong with us as individuals.  This is the opposite of the very “rational”, scientific approach we espouse which promotes curiosity about what is – and still, this cultural blindness exists.

Since those from whom we learn come from this background they are not always good teachers when it comes to being fully human.  What’s more, since we come from the same background, we are also indoctrinated in a certain way of being.  This can present a particular challenge for those of us who enter the professions likely to be reading this article – including leaders, members of the HR profession, trainers, consultants, coaches.  Many people are drawn to these professions precisely because (like me) they didn’t thrive in the environments in which they grew up and they want to see something different.  At the same time, they lacked role models from whom to learn and face the risk of hypocrisy as they seek to educate others whilst overlooking (or struggling with) their own limitations.
Learning to do something when we don’t know how and may lack role models to learn from – well, it’s a messy business!  In truth, being fully human is a more messy business than many of us choose to engage in in public.  It involves doing things that don’t work out as we hope and even doing things we later regret.  When we embrace our humanity it’s all par for the course.  When we don’t embrace our humanity we live constantly in the shadow of the belief – our own and others’ – that somehow we should be different.
I wonder, what are your aspirations for being human in the workplace?  For you?  For others?  I’d love to read your comments in response to this posting.

Reasons not to be human in the workplace: reason 3

Recently, I wrote a posting for Discuss HR entitled To what extent is it really OK to be human in the workplace?  My aim was to explore the extent to which we feel able to express ourselves fully and authentically in the workplace and to explore some of the reasons why we don’t.  In this posting I highlight what I’m calling “Reason 3” and expand on it.

A third reason why it can be hard to be fully human in the workplace is this:  it’s not always fully welcomed by others.  This can be a little circular.  It takes trust, for example, both to share ourselves fully and to receive each other as we share.  As part of my own practice I am a student of Marshall Rosenberg’s Nonviolent Communication and make it my aspiration and my discipline to share my feelings, needs and observations and to make clear requests as well as to seek to connect with the feelings and needs of others.  Recently I fielded a request from a colleague and decided to explore the request with her so that I fully understood it before saying yes or no.  This was received as a criticism which was not my intention.  Suddenly, I found myself seeking to handle a conversation with someone who was acting on an inference (that I was criticising her) as if it were true.

Oftentimes, in the workplace we find that our open and honest self-expression is not received with a glad heart by others.  There are many reasons for this.  Perhaps, for example, the way in which we express ourselves is itself a problem, especially if we put forward our opinion as if it were some universal and ultimate truth (who wants to be on the receiving end of this hidden assertion?)  Perhaps the person who is receiving our thoughts is not open to different perspectives.  Perhaps we want to express our feelings in an environment which discourages acknowledgement of emotions.  Perhaps our sharing triggers difficult feelings in the person with whom we are speaking.

Equally, it’s often true that our fear that our honesty may not be well-received is as much of a problem as any evidence that it isn’t.  As long as we have this fear we are likely to express ourselves indirectly or even not at all.  How many of us, for example, choose to withhold any expression of our emotions at work, even when to do so could provide valuable information – helping those we lead, for example, to share in our excitement about a new project, or helping our line managers to know that we’ve been procrastinating on a task out of fear of failing.

When have you withheld open and honest expression of what’s going on for you out of fear that it might not be well-received?

Reasons not to be human in the workplace: reason 2

Recently, I wrote a posting for Discuss HR entitled To what extent is it really OK to be human in the workplace?  My aim was to explore the extent to which we feel able to express ourselves fully and authentically in the workplace and to explore some of the reasons why we don’t.  In this posting I highlight what I’m calling “Reason 2” and expand on it.
Yesterday, I wrote about the fears we have of being wrong – a subject I also addressed recently in a posting entitled On being right – or wrong.  Like many, I took my own fears of being wrong into my first job when I entered the workplace.  Later, I learned of a second challenge when it comes to the authentic sharing of our human selves:  it’s actually rather hard work!  
Perhaps the first experience I had of working in an environment in which such sharing was encouraged was as a volunteer, supporting Ian McDermott and his colleagues in training large groups of people in neuro-linguistic programming (or NLP) with his organisation, ITS.  This was set up with the expectation that, as a member of the support team, I would have as much learning opportunity as participants.  As a team member I was allocated a learning partner, for example, and supported both by a team coach and by a team leader.  I used to love the morning “huddle”, in which we came together at the beginning of the day to check in and to prepare for the day ahead.  I felt supported in being myself as well as relishing an environment in which people were looking out for my successes.  This was quite new to me.
At the same time I quickly learned that, as much as it was safe to share what was going on for me, the invitation was always for me to learn.  This was quite different from what I often experienced in the workplace where the invitation was to collude.  This was the difference between “yes, your colleague was in the wrong” and “so what’s the learning for you?”  I came to welcome this approach which led me quite quickly to recognise my love of coaching and still, it required of me a willingness to take responsibility for myself and for the quality of my experience which was new to me and for which, initially, I was ill-prepared.
It’s not difficult to see that Reason 2 is intimately connected with Reason 1.  In a culture in which we widely hold the belief that there is a right and wrong answer to everything, it seems likely that, in order to feel OK about ourselves, we will seek to prove that we are right and that others are wrong.  Talking with our allies about those people we believe are in the wrong is a relatively safe way to maintain our position that we are right.
Being human in the workplace invites us down a different path.  On this path, the invitation is to own our feelings, our experience and our own limitations at a given point in time as well as our strengths and our successes.  It is an approach which is compassionate and which, still, requires commitment, discipline and the willingness to learn.  It is an approach which implies staying on our own side of the street (yes, I wrote about this recently – just follow this link) and leaving others to do their own learning.  Once we have embraced this approach we are constantly in process and inviting new learnings.  It is hard work.
I wonder which approach do you favour?
   

Reasons not to be human in the workplace: reason 1

Recently, I wrote a posting for Discuss HR entitled To what extent is it really OK to be human in the workplace?  My aim was to explore the extent to which we feel able to express ourselves fully and authentically in the workplace and to explore some of the reasons why we don’t.  In this posting I highlight what I’m calling “Reason 1” and expand on it. 
I found a first clue as to why we might not feel fully at ease in being human in the workplace in my experience of joining the workplace:  one thing I took from my upbringing was the idea that there was a “right” and a “wrong” answer to everything – and the idea that often I was wrong.  I entered the workplace (as much as the rest of my life) with a fear of learning that yes, I was indeed wrong.  This did not make it easy for me to share my fears and to seek the help and support I needed early in my career.  Another way of putting this is to say, if you are afraid of being wrong AND you fear that being wrong in this particular instance means there’s something wrong with you then the stakes are high when you express yourself honestly:  you risk finding out that you are indeed, fatally flawed.  (Kathryn Schulz talks about this on www.TED.com.  I wrote about her recently in a posting entitled On being right – or wrong where you will also find a link to her talk). 

One factor that contributes to this is our tendency to compare our own inner turmoil with the apparently serene exterior of others.  If you take a moment to imagine two swans gliding across the surface of life whilst frantically paddling beneath the waters, you can begin to imagine what this might be like:  one swan knows he is paddling away under the surface and yet he doesn’t imagine that his mate is doing the same because he cannot see beyond his friend’s serene appearance.  Moreover, for fear of being judged, he is also doing his best to look serene.

And yes, I’m not sure that swans think in this way – though I do know that humans do.  I remember, for example, a conversation I had with friends towards the end of our university studies when I shared how scared I’d been on arrival of not being good enough.  A number of people looked totally surprised – they’d never guessed.  One by one we shared our feelings and realised that, yes, we’d all felt that way and done our best to hide our fears.  We had been afraid to share ourselves fully.  It took many experiences for me to learn, finally, that I was not alone in putting on a brave – but not entirely authentic – face.  For a while, it seemed to me that everyone had it sussed – everyone but me, that is.  I wonder how many others would share similar experiences – if only they dared – of hiding their human face because their upbringing and education has not prepared them to show themselves fully at work.
The implications in the workplace are profound.  The very people who enter the workplace with this fear of being found out (some people call it the “imposter syndrome”) rise through the system to become our most senior leaders.  When this happens, the culture they create supports the idea that there is a right and wrong answer (and, by implication, that they are the owners of the right answer) and this in turn creates a climate of fear as well as organisations whose performance is way below their potential.  The result – if nothing serves to intervene – is a system which perpetuates the problem.
I wonder, what has been your experience in this area?

To what extent is it really OK to be human in the workplace?

Last week I wrote about how we respond to being “wrong” and I also wrote a posting for Discuss HR called To what extent is it really OK to be human in the workplace?  It seems to me that both postings touch a similar theme.  This is how I started my article:

We all agree (do we?) that emotional intelligence has a significant role to play in the workplace.  Words like “authenticity” and “integrity” are widely used and have a strong appeal with organisations looking to recruit people who display these qualities.  At the same time, in many organisations, people hold the belief that they have to show their best side in order to succeed and invest time and effort into creating a professional mask and identity.  To what extent is it really OK to be human in the workplace?

As early as 1973, Dr. David McClelland published a paper, Testing for competence rather than for intelligence, in which he argued that classic aptitude tests (the type that might, for example, predict performance in school exams) were a poor predictor of later performance in the workplace.  He posited the idea of testing for competencies – those attitudes, traits or behaviours that differentiate the more outstanding performers in a particular job.  McClelland’s ideas have since been widely tested in the workplace even whilst scientists have been making significant discoveries into the workings of the brain.

Daniel Goleman, himself a student of McClelland, has been widely credited with coining the term “emotional intelligence” and his book Working With Emotional Intelligence outlines a model for effectiveness in the workplace which draws significantly on the work of McClelland and others.  Emotional intelligence recognises that our effectiveness in the workplace reflects our ability to tune in and respond to the full range of information available to us, including our own emotions.

You might expect, then, a growing trend towards encouraging authentic self- expression in the workplace.  You might also expect that this would lead to higher levels of engagement at work.  You might even expect that this would be desirable to employers:  higher engagement leads to improved work outcomes as a result of increased discretionary effort.  But is it really so?  Working (as I do) as a coach to senior leaders I notice how often I am party to the sharing by clients of thoughts, feelings, desires that they hesitate to share with colleagues, even whilst they wish their colleagues would understand them better.  Surely there’s some paradox at work when all the research points to the benefits of such sharing and still, it’s not happening?

Reflecting on my own experience, I see some clues as to why this might be so.  I’ll be sharing some thoughts about this in the coming days.  Meantime, I wonder:  what has been your experience of being human in the workplace?

On being right – or wrong

Once more www.TED.com has come up with a great resource in the form of a talk by Kathryn Schulz On Being Wrong.  This reached me via Stuart Reid* who commented: 


There is quite a lot in this TED talk from Kathryn Schulz that helps to explain why the ‘unilateral control model’ is so powerful.  Schulz has a view that one reason why we care so much about being wrong is that we often feel that if we are wrong there is something wrong with us – so we insist instead that we are right.  And she also makes the point well that feeling we are right is often not a reliable guide to what’s going on out there in the real world.

Leaders who are attached to always being right are easy to spot.  They rarely ask for input from those they lead in order to form a plan and even when they do it’s their own ideas that prevail.  They have people reporting to them – sometimes very senior people – who think twice before putting forward an idea for fear of the public humiliation that will follow.  They think their staff are rubbish (“they have no ideas to offer at all”) and they may overlook the fact that some very talented people come and go from their watch.  They are often disappointed with the outcomes from their staff and rarely take responsibility.  Of course, it’s not just leaders who have this kind of experience – it’s colleagues, spouses, parents and children…

I want to add that, in our culture, this is not uncommon.  Take a moment to notice when you have wanted to be right even though you knew you were wrong, when you were really hard on yourself or on someone else for the things that didn’t go to plan, when you were afraid of the consequences of a mistake or escaped into your head to think about it instead of to feel it.

How much compassion do you have for your own mistakes?  And for the mistakes of others?

*And yes, if you follow Stuart’s link, you’ll find all sorts of additional treasures to explore.

Preparing for interview: it’s your mindset that counts

How often we give our power away when we are preparing for an interview (or to make a presentation, or…, or… or…).  It seems the world is setting out to remind me of this right now.  I have been assessing a number of people for senior leadership roles recently. It’s a topic that has cropped up recently with a coaching client (as it does from time to time).  And I have been following a discussion thread on the HRUK group on LinkedIn with the heading:  What’s the one piece of key advice you would give to a candidate preparing for an interview?


I make an initial response as follows:


This is a question I find myself exploring with coaching clients – i.e. in a situation in which I am the advocate of the person being interviewed.
What I often find is that the interviewee holds the mindset “I need to prove I’m capable of doing this job” rather than I mindset of “I’d like to establish whether or not this is the right employer and the right job for me – whether we are well matched”. The energy that goes with the first mindset is quite different than the energy that goes with the second.

So, for the interviewee, my first piece of advice would be to explore and choose a mindset that serves them in fulfilling their intentions.



I particularly notice the response of another correspondent with which I tend to disagree:  

However, taking Dorothy’s point a stage further, it all starts wih having the right positive mindset to win the interview.
Around 90% of my clients have previously failed at interviews because of self doubts, excessive nerves and negative thoughts. The focus then becomes on ‘I hope I don’t freeze’ etc rather than I will make sure I impress!

My concern is this:  setting out to “impress” can set up the idea that somehow all the power is in the hands of the interviewer.  When we hold this point of view, we are liable to think we have to do something more than be ourselves, to wonder exactly what the key is to being successful, to feel increasing levels of anxiety (because, after all we don’t know).  In other words, self doubts, excessive nerves and negative thoughts are the natural corollary of thinking we have to impress.

On the other hand, when we view an interview as a mutual exploration (are we well matched?) our attention is not only about any decisions a potential employer might make (which are out of our hands).  It is also with our own needs, helping us to think about what information we need in order to know to what extent the job we are discussing might meet our needs.  This is a more balanced perspective and tends to leave us feeling more powerful.  And yes, it helps to hold the belief that the right opportunity is out there – and this may or may not be it.

There is a paradox at work here – as there so often is.  Some interviewees with skills in influencing will set out to impress – and be empowered by this.  These are people who have the ability to put themselves in the shoes of a potential employer and to understand precisely what they need to do to influence or have an impact on their interviewer(s).  If you know you have these skills – then yes, set out to impress. Either way, the aim is to choose an approach which empowers. 

 



On my own side of the street

I have been facilitating an on-line discussion amongst former colleagues in recent weeks and I notice just how hard I have been finding it to stay on my side of the street.

What do I mean when I use the term “on my side of the street”?  I have to give credit here to Anne Wilson Schaef.  It’s hard to characterise Wilson Schaef whose career has taken her through working as a therapist and dealing with women’s issues to looking more widely, looking at organisations and whole societies.  A theme that runs through her work (as I understand it) lies in her concern for wholeness and health and her belief that individuals, organisations and even whole societies are susceptible to the dysfunction of addiction.  Wilson Schaef also explores those ways of living that she sees as more natural and healthy and it was in her book Living in Process:  Basic Truths for Living the Path of the Soul that I came across and enjoyed her concept of living on your own side of the street.

What does the person do who stays on their own side of the street?  Let me illustrate this with my experience of the discussion I mentioned right at the beginning of this posting.  When I stray from my side of the street, for example, it would be easy to notice how Person A, who opted not to comment until after a decision had been made expresses his discomfort with the decision and to feel frustrated – why did he not express his views as part of the initial consultation?  Or to be horrified by the way Persons B and C are expressing their views and to feel somehow responsible.  Or to wonder if, in the light of the debate that has ensued, I got something wrong when I consulted colleagues in the first place.  To stray from my side of the street is to focus on what’s going on outside of me and to be guided by it – leading to confusion and a sense of being a victim.  It also carries with it the temptation to move from victim to perpetrator (“if you felt so strongly about it, why didn’t you express your view when you were asked?”, for example).

To stay on my side of the street, on the other hand, is to notice what’s going on in me and to take responsibility for my own experience.  It is to notice that, yes, I opened up a question and I wasn’t entirely prepared for the response – not so much the range of views but the manner in which they have been expressed.  Equally, I wasn’t quite prepared for the reality that even having consulted with colleagues the ultimate decision would sit in my hands because navigating a discussion amongst 75 members of an on-line group who have no prior agreement about how to take decisions is unlikely to lead to 75 people saying “yes, let’s go with that”.  To stay on my side of the street is also to choose my response.  I have, for example, wondered about saying, “having consulted with you and taken my decision, I’m now signing off this discussion”.  It’s an option, though for now, I have decided to hang on in there.  One reason for staying is because I want to stay abreast of the body of opinion in the group and by guided by it.  Another reason is because I know that, in so far as I am triggered by others’ behaviour or am taking it personally, it is guiding me towards valuable learning.

Wilson Schaef points out how tough it is to stay on our own side of the street precisely because we equate taking responsibility with having caused something and assign blame (as if, for example, I am somehow responsible for the fact that there are diverse views amongst the group or for the way group members have expressed their views).  At the same time, she highlights how, when we can let go of viewing human behaviour in terms of cause and effect (and assigning blame) we empower ourselves.  I would add that, by example, we offer a way for others to empower themselves.

I wonder, do you aspire to stay on your own side of the street?  And to what extent are you succeeding?

Leadership levels: knowing your job

Finally, I’ve embarked on my reading regime – the one I mentioned in my post Exploring the inner game of leadership.  I’m starting with a book which continues to attract warm recommendations, Jim Collins’ Good to Great.  In it, Collins shares findings from research into those companies who have gone from showing solid performance to showing outstanding performance in the marketplace.

Early on, Collins lays out a neat hierarchy of work levels.  It’s not rocket science or even entirely new and still, it serves to remind us of levels of work with which we are familiar and also to highlight an additional level, the Level 5 leader, which is the subject of Collins’ book.  I highlight it for another reason – but first, let me share Collins definitions:

Level 5 Executive:  Builds enduring greatness through a paradoxical blend of personal humility and professional will.

Level 4 Effective Leader:  Catalyzes a commitment to and vigorous pursuit of a clear and compelling vision, stimulating higher performance standards.

Level 3 Competent Manager:  Organizes people and resources toward the effective and efficient pursuit of pre-determined objectives.

Level 2 Contributing Team Member:  Contributes individual capabilities to the achievement of group objectives and works effectively with others in a group setting.

Level 1 Highly Capable individual:  Makes productive contributions through talent, knowledge, skills, and good work habits.

What does this hierarchy evoke for me?  I want to highlight the role that adaptability plays in success.  The more strategies you have to meet your goals the more likely you are to succeed (and yes, I’ve been there, too – using a strategy that didn’t work last time either and hoping that by trying harder, it will work this time).

As you move through the hierarchy of work levels to which Collins refers, it helps to know clearly which level of work you are employed to do and to develop strategies that work at that level.  It also helps to know how the level to which you aspire differs from your current work level.  Oftentimes poor performance stems from applying habits from the level of work below the level at which you are employed to contribute.  Oftentimes the promotion you feel frustrated you have not have yet achieved is withheld because you do not yet show you understand at what level you will be required to contribute in the job to which you aspire.

I wonder, what comes up for you as you read Collins’ Level 5 Hierarchy above?