On the rise of women to the board room

The Apprentice is back.  For anyone who’s not familiar with this particular brand of car crash television, the viewer gets to watch groups of young people attempt tasks set by Sir Alan Sugar before taking a drubbing in the Board Room.  A shortlist of participants from the losing team then take a further drubbing before Sir Alan Sugar identifies his loser of the week with the words “You’re fired!”

This week, Gavin left the programme, but it was not Gavin who caught my eye.  No, it was Zoe in the following interaction:

Zoe:  “I did what I was told but didn’t get a chance to shine”

Sir Alan:  “Well, that could have been your fault!”

This interaction brought to mind the recent recommendations by Lord Davies:  that UK listed companies in the FTSE 100 should be aiming for a minimum of 25% female board member representation by 2015.  Follow this link for more information and to download a copy of the report.

Some people I have spoken with have expressed the view that it’s time to influence the men, as if it’s a change on the part of the men of this world that will make the difference.  (After all, are they not the turkeys who have no incentive to vote for Christmas?).  My own view is that the truth is more complex.  Either way, in case you are a woman aspiring to fulfil a director level role, I invite you to pause a moment to reflect on the interaction above.

What are the implications of Zoe’s comment?  It seems to me that, tucked away in Zoe’s assertion that she didn’t get the chance to shine is the implication that her chance to shine is in the gift of someone else.  In truth, many times in our careers, others do have it in their gift to help us to shine.  At the same time, the higher we go up the ladder, the more (it seems to me) we need to own that we, too, have it in our gift to shine.

As long as we look to others for some kind of opportunity or even permission to shine, the more we give our power away.  As long as women give away their power so easily – expecting something of others but not asking for it, for example – it can be said that they are not ready to step into the role of director.  But then, “power” is in itself a concept that women struggle with – and men, too.  A subject for another posting, perhaps.

I wonder, how do you respond to this vignette from The Apprentice?  And how do you respond to the recommendations of the Lord Davies report on women in the boardroom?

From the school of NLP: the “problem” and the “outcome” frame

If you listen to Radio 4 in the morning, one of the questions you will commonly hear is “Who’s to blame?”  I confess, my heart sinks when I hear this question.  I have such a yearning for a life without blame.

It’s possible that this question is common in your life, too.  If you have children it may be a daily discussion.  Perhaps you take the view that when a fight break’s out there’s someone to blame.  Perhaps your children want to prove themselves blameless by blaming each other.  In business, too, the same question is often lurking in the environs of a problem or issue.  In many organisations, the idea that some is to blame is woven into the very fabric – the culture – of the organisation.

The way we view a problem or issue has a significant effect on the way we experience it.  We experience the difference:  in the way we view things, in the way we feel (our emotions, our bodily responses), in the stories we tell ourselves.  Neurolinguistic programming (NLP) has captured this difference in the problem and the outcome frame.  As you read this posting, you can test this difference by taking a problem or issue, applying the questions below and noticing your responses.

What sort of questions do we ask when we are thinking of an issue as a problem?

  • What’s the problem?
  • Why is it such a problem?
  • What are the implications of not solving it?
  • Why haven’t you solved it yet?
  • Who’s to blame for the problem?
  • Why are they to blame?
Before you move on, just take a moment to notice the effect on you of viewing an issue through the lens of these questions.
What sort of questions do we ask when we are thinking of an issue in terms of our desired outcomes?
  • What do you want?
  • How will you know when you’ve got what you want?
  • What will be the best thing about getting what you want?
  • What other benefits will it bring?
  • What resources do you already have to help you achieve your desired outcome(s)?
  • What is your next step?

Again, I invite you to take a moment to notice the effect on you of viewing an issue through the lens of these questions.  I also invite you to notice, which set of questions (or style of questioning) is more familiar to you?  This will vary from person to person.

This is not to suggest that you abandon either set of questions entirely.  If you’re working with someone who has a strong problem focus, for example, exploring the problem with them helps to build rapport.  Only when they know you’re hearing them will they be willing to look at the problem or issue through another lens – the outcome frame.  Equally, if you are seeking to encourage change amongst people who want things to stay as they are, it may (just may) help to explore the problems associated with not changing before you even attempt to explain the benefits of change.  For me, what’s key here is the awareness that you do have an option.  You can look through either lens at any moment in time.  Building an awareness that you have an option opens up new possibilities.
I wonder, how do you experience the difference when you use a problem or an outcome frame?

Sometimes it’s all in the framing

One of the achievements of neurolinguistic programming (or NLP) has been to identify the impact on our experience of the way we frame things.  I am reminded of this by a conversation with a client who is grappling with a particular issue*.

At the outset of our conversation the camera is up real close.  The focus is on the response of a particular group of staff who are just not producing the goods.  It doesn’t feel good to be the person who is battling away to get things done and constantly faced with the question of “what can I do differently?” when staff in a matrixed organisation seem always to be too busy, to lazy, or too inept…  The word “impasse” springs to mind.  I notice that it seems quite lonely, too:  being the person – the only person – who has a role to play in making things better.

Take the camera back a little and different parts of the picture begin to emerge.  The organisation has decided to drive higher levels of performance out of this particular group of staff.  This implies raising their skill levels so that they can do work which is currently beyond their capability.  It also implies increasing levels of efficiency (getting the same people to do more work per day or week).  Is it possible?  I don’t know.  Is it the sole responsibility of my client?  Well, actually, more people come into view when we view the issue from a distance.   My client’s boss.  The line managers of the individuals concerned…  Something else comes into view – or perhaps into focus.  It’s the question, “what’s possible?”  It’s not that the goal is impossible, it’s more about the “hows” and the “whens”.  It’s the question of “is the current plan a good one – or does something need to be changed?  And how might my client find out?”

In other words, when we take a few steps back we expand the scope of our vision so that we can see more and, by seeing more, we have greater insight into a problem or issue.  Sometimes, it’s all in the framing.

Back to NLP.  One of the classic ways of framing a problem or issue is by using a problem or an outcome frame.  Look out for a posting on this on Friday.  Meantime, I invite you to take an issue that’s current for you and to step back a few paces to see what you can see from a distance that you can’t see up close.  Are you willing to share?

*I’ve taken care to keep my description vague so as not to share any information which is confidential or can identify my client.

Learning from the squirrels in my garden

I have been watching the squirrels in my garden this weekend, burying nuts in my garden which will in time begin to sprout.  I’m not sure the squirrels ever seek to retrieve them.  I was discussing this with a friend recently, laughing with her about the fact that squirrels have extraordinary ingenuity when it comes to penetrating “squirrel proof” nut dispensers which means that they have an unlimited supply of nuts – and still they haven’t worked out that they no longer need to bury them.

In truth, we are all in some way the recipients of the kind of programming that perpetuates behaviours that no longer serve us.  Some of it is handed down from one generation to another (telling your children not to put coats on the bed long after the era has gone when other people’s coats might mean head lice and other unwelcome creatures).  Some of it may well be as ancient as the squirrels’ (is it possible that our propensity to obesity in the modern era reflects the same survival instinct in an era of abundance?).

A good way of checking in with ourselves is to ask, simply, “do I know why I am doing this?”  If the answer is no, we have the opportunity to change our actions.  If the answer is “no, and still I feel compelled to do this” the path to change may require intervention at deeper levels – in our beliefs, for example, or even in our sense of who we are.

It’s easy to beat ourselves up for doing things we don’t understand and still, it’s natural.  The bigger mistake is to imagine that all our actions are totally rational.  One reason not to deny this aspect of our humanity is that it takes up time and energy to perpetuate this belief in the face of over-whelming evidence to the contrary.  Another reason is that the unintended consequences of this form of denial are many and not very pleasant or life-serving.

I wonder, what are the behaviours that you find hard to change, even though they seem to be serving no purpose?

When you’re looking for new ways of thinking

Sometimes, testimonials come totally unsolicited as a joyful surprise.  This is one of them, from Rob Mesrie on Facebook BranchOut.


I confess I didn’t know BranchOut existed.  I do, though, know Rob.  During our work together as volunteers for Ian McDermott at ITS’ NLP and Coaching trainings, I came to hold Rob with high regard.  I count him as a dear friend and join him as a member of the mutual admiration club.


This is what he wrote:


“Top rate coach. Never falters from creating a space that gives you access to a way of thinking you had never even considered.”

The “bad manager” discussion – revisited

Recently I shared my response to an on-line discussion entitled What is a sign that you have a bad manager?  The discussion goes on with many people (393 responses so far) willing to list the many signs.  Today, I decided to write again, as follows, in response to this thread:


I feel so down-hearted as I read this thread because I have such a yearning for compassion towards ourselves and others – including those fellow human beings who agree to take on the role of manager.  I am not experiencing that compassion here.


What needs are we trying to meet by engaging in a discussion in which we list all the behaviours we don’t enjoy in a “bad” manager?  And how effective is this strategy in meeting those needs?


In particular, I wonder how much of our own power we give away when we see the problems we have in the workplace as down to a “bad manager”.  For example, when Irfan says a bad manager is someone who “makes you feel mediocre regardless of how well you perform” it seems to me that he is attributing responsibility for his feelings to another person.  He could instead recognise that his feelings arise from his own response to the actions of his manager (the thoughts he has when his manager behaves in a certain way – it’s my belief that his own thoughts stimulate his feelings).  I believe this is a more empowering response for us as people being managed and a more compassionate response to our manager.


And if this is a strategy we are using in relation to our managers at work I am guessing that we might also be using it with our spouse, our children, our siblings, our parents… the list goes on.  I wonder how much unhappiness is created by this kind of discussion.


I wonder, how does this response land with you?  And would you be willing to share what needs you are meeting in this discussion and how well?



Your MBA in entrepreneurship – in just 5 minutes

Recently, I came across an article by Scott Adams, creator of “Dilbert”, highlighting some of the learnings he took from studying entrepreneurship at Hartwick College in Oneonta, NY.  Adams’ article reads like a short MBA and is entitled How to Get a Real Education.

The source of this link was Roger Hamilton, author of Your Life Your Legacy:  An Entrepreneur Guide To Finding Your Flow.  Hamilton’s passion is reflected in the extract he chooses to share.  His thesis is that we need more entrepreneurs if we are to generate the resources needed to address the key issues in the world and that, as individuals, we need to understand how we are designed to generate wealth.  (Stay tuned if you want to learn more about this in future postings).  The extract below, from Adams’ article, illustrates this neatly:

“There was a small business on our campus called The Coffee House. One day the managers of The Coffee House had a meeting to discuss two topics. First, our Minister of Employment was recommending that we fire a bartender, who happened to be one of my best friends. Second, we needed to choose a leader for our group. On the first question, there was a general consensus that my friend lacked both the will and the potential to master the bartending arts. I reluctantly voted with the majority to fire him.”


“But when it came to discussing who should be our new leader, I pointed out that my friend—the soon-to-be-fired bartender—was tall, good-looking and so gifted at b.s. that he’d be the perfect leader. By the end of the meeting I had persuaded the group to fire the worst bartender that any of us had ever seen…and ask him if he would consider being our leader. My friend nailed the interview and became our Commissioner. He went on to do a terrific job. That was the year I learned everything I know about management.”

This brief extract nails precisely the “square peg, round hole” syndrome that affects us all.  As individuals, we struggle if we are trying to mould ourselves into a role that doesn’t suit us.  As leaders, we will certainly have to deal with the same issue as it affects our staff.

I wonder, how is this issue showing up right now in your life and career?

The power of the enemy image

Monday morning.  After five days away on retreat the first piece of news to filter through is the news of the death of Osama bin Laden at the hands of America in an attack against the compound in Pakistan in which he lived.  The news and discussion in the following days has been endless and no doubt it will continue.  It seems to me to be an event too important to overlook on my blog even whilst I wonder what to say.  Finally, I settle on this:  the power of the enemy image.

I am not talking here about current debate on whether or not to release photos of the dead Osama bin Laden.  Rather, I am referring to what happens when we hold people as enemies in our minds.  It seems to me that, regardless of the acts committed by another, to hold someone as our enemy carries many risks.  Amongst these is the risk that we perpetrate all sorts of violence against others, doing things in relation to our so-called enemies that we would not do in relation to those we love and respect.  In the end, we have to live with the acts we have committed, whether or not they were in some way “justified”.

The examples are widespread – universal even.  Think of the parent who adminsters a slap alongside the admonition:  “don’t treat your brother (friend, pet rabbit etc.) in that way!”  Think of the customer who loses his or her temper in response to some act of perceived poor service, swearing and shouting at the person concerned.  Think of the friend who, upset, tells all sorts of other people what’s wrong with the person whose actions have stimulated strong emotions.  The examples are also abundant in the workplace.  Think of the individual who, not receiving from his or her boss support for which s/he yearns and for which s/he hasn’t asked begins to form an image of the boss as some kind of monster and to talk to others of the boss’s failings.  Think of the member of staff in our team who just isn’t producing the results we want and whom we begin to see as incompetent, lazy, stupid… And if it’s not the boss, or one of our direct reports, perhaps it’s our chief rival for a job (even the person who got the job we didn’t), John in Accounts, or IT, or, or, or…  Of course, the acts of violence are often subtle rather than overt.  They are in the way we think about another.  They are in the way we talk about another to third parties.  They are in the way we try to convey a message to another without openly stating what’s on our mind.  The list goes on.

In writing, I want to share my compassion for everyone involved in this spiral.  We do not know – though we may try to guess – what needs another is trying to meet or what prompts them to seek to meet those needs in a particular way.  Still, every action they take – no matter how violent or incomprehensible to us – is taken with positive intentions.  We, too, have positive intentions when we form enemy images of another in our minds or respond to violence with violence.  And when we imagine for one moment that we are in some way justified in committing acts of violence, still, we have positive intentions.  We are both perpetrator and victim.  There are moments when we are the victim of our most basic biology:  when, to use Daniel Goleman’s term, we are seized by an amygdala hijack.  In these moments our perception of a threat triggers a fight-or-flight response which was designed millennia ago as a response to threats we no longer face and which, still, kicks in in the moment.

As powerful as such moments are, we have choices to make.  We get to choose, provided we can understand the difference between stimulus and response.  In the gap between “X is happening” and “I believe Y” there is the opportunity to replace violence with nonviolence and in ways which preserve the humanity and dignity of self and other.  Either way, we lead by the choices we make.  Osama bin Laden led – as best we understand it – when he chose to perpetrate acts of violence (including the 1998 American Embassy bombings, the 2001 attack against New York’s Twin Towers).  He did so with positive intentions, seeking justice in the face of injustices, as he saw them, perpetrated by the United States against his fellow Muslims.  Right now, those of us who would wish for a different approach get to lead by the responses we choose to Osama bin Laden’s death.

I wonder, what enemy images are you harbouring towards others in your life?  And how do you choose to respond?

Coming back after a break

I am back at work today after a break.  My niece was with me for two days before Easter, yearning for company and happy to potter in the garden and to curl up with me on the sofa in front of Finding Nemo.  I spent Easter with family, enjoying the greenery and sunshine of rural Berkshire, the sound of the cuckoo as well as time with family members.  I have been away on retreat, too – at Vicky Peirce’s Barn for five days – as well as seeing my brother Alan on the way and my cousin Charles on the way back.  It’s been a packed time.

Emerging from five days on retreat I am stunned to hear news of Osama Bin Laden’s death:  there is only one story right now.  And in a completely different way, I am stunned by the performance of a newcomer in the world of snooker, 21 year old Judd Trump.  Watching the last few frames of the game with my nephew Edward last night I enjoyed the play of both Trump and John Higgins (who took his fourth World Championship crown) and especially enjoyed the grace with which both players acknowledged each other at the end of the match.

Today I am preparing for a busy week ahead – catching up with new messages, e-mails etc. as well as what’s already in the diary.  I have a proposal to write, a feedback session tomorrow with an executive I recently assessed for a senior role in his organisation, another assessment…  I have a yearning for understanding from those who have been waiting to hear from me and who may have to wait a little while yet.

PS  And yes, I did manage to take in a wedding whilst I was away – a particular wedding…

What is a sign that you have a bad manager?

Some questions are irresistible, such as the question “What is a sign that you have a bad manager?” on the Harvard Business Review discussion group on LinkedIn.  It has been beckoning me for several days and today I responded to it as follows: 

I offer this definition of hell: hell is believing there’s such a thing as a good (or bad) manager.

I’m not a great fan of labelling someone a good or bad manager.  I believe it disempowers us to do so and guides the viewer to believe the situation is static and cannot be changed rather than a function of our experience and something we can take action to address.  Also because it suggests that our experience is purely a function of our manager and his or her behaviour and omits to notice that we, too, are playing a role in our experience.

A key sign that something needs to change is when the person being managed is experiencing some adverse effects as a result of his or her interactions with his or her manager, such as loss of confidence, sleepless nights, risk adversity (when taking more risk is optimal), performance getting worse (and so on…).

It’s easy to look to the manager to make changes (after all, it’s the manager who is paid more, more senior, charged with the responsibility etc.).  However, when we take this view, we are at risk of viewing our manager as the ‘parent’ whose role it is to meet the needs of our ‘child’.  We are all adults in the workplace and we are all fallible even whilst doing the best we know how in a particular moment.

So, as much as I am passionate about my work to support men and women in the workplace effectively to discharge their roles as leaders, I invite anyone who is unhappy with their experience of their manager’s behaviour to notice their own contribution to the situation and to take action to change it.  This often requires learning, sometimes very deep learning.  Looked at from a spiritual perspective, the ‘bad manager’ is a gift to us in our learning journey, even though we may not initially recognise the gift that’s tucked away inside the wrapping.


I wonder, what is your experience in response to this question, both as a manager and as someone being managed?