Listening and power

I ran an event for the senior team of an organisation recently. The team has an annual retreat for a couple of days every year: this was the sixth one since the current Chief Executive has been in place, and first I have facilitated for them.

After some discussion with the CE (and knowing the organisation and the senior team quite well) I suggested that we use Nancy Kline's Thinking Environment approach. (See the Nancy Kline tag for my previous posts on this topic).

So we recast the agenda as a series of questions, and included an initial round of 'What's going well for you?' followed by a reminder of the Thinking Environment components (most members of the team had come across them previously - indeed they had resolved to work accordingly last year, but had forgotten to do so...)

And then each agenda item was treated in a TE way: we took turns to speak; we listened to each other without interrupting; we truly attended; we shared the time fairly; we split into smaller groups for some items; - and we had some great discussions.

What I noticed was that this approach re-distributes power towards those who are normally disadvantaged by the traditional meeting behaviours: those who are slightly less quick at articulating their thoughts, those who are more likely to be interrupted, and less likely to interrupt; those who like to reflect, even as they try to express their thoughts. I have, of course, noticed this before.

But what really struck me this time was that power is not a zero-sum game. The increased power of those people was not at the cost of others; rather the whole team seemed more potent. The CE, who spoke less than he normally does, increased in both understanding and stature. Wiser decisions were made with a higher degree of consensus; and difficult issues were addressed with a greater degree of mutual understanding.

At the end, the CE, and many others, said it was the best retreat they had ever had - and they resolved to work in this way in the future.  I will be checking in with them to see if they are more effective in implementing this resolution this time than last (and I did just happen to remind the CE of this resolution just before the next senior team meeting...)

Invisible Facilitation

I have blogged before about Invisible Facilitation (here and here) and was reminded of the idea this week, when I ran an awayday(-and-a-half) for the senior team of a University.

As before, some of my most valuable work was done beforehand (getting the agenda cast as questions, for example, and agreeing the whole approach with the Vice Chancellor, which informed how he introduced the day and ran various discussions). On the event, I said very little.

One thing I did say was a brief (10 minute) introduction to Nancy Kline's Thinking Environment (qv) and the implications of the 10 components as they might apply to this awayday.

I also sorted the groups for the group work, managed the timing and so on; but 90% or more of the talking was done by the participants, and (and this is the important thing in terms of the Thinking Environment) the airtime was shared pretty evenly between them.

At one stage I also passed the VC a note about a change to the meeting process, when I thought the Thinking Environment principles weren't being honoured (ie a few were doing all the talking). He changed the process, and the thinking took off again.

The last thing I did was invite them to comment on what they had taken from the event, and their reflections on the Thinking Environment as a methodology for such meetings.

The feedback was overwhelmingly positive: indeed a number of them said it was the best awayday they had ever had as a team.

So once again, nearly-invisible facilitation proved a very valuable approach: and fortunately the group were sophisticated enough to recognise the correlation between my (very few) interventions and the success of the event.

Another blow struck for introverted facilitators!

Risk taking and prudence

I have been reflecting a bit about risk-taking and prudence; and my different relationship to physical and emotional (or social) risk.

That has been prompted, in part, by a recognition that over the summer I made a number of imprudent decisions about physical risk; one of which led to my damaging my ankle quite severely, taking a fall from a rock-face, and another leading a group of friends over Striding Edge in fairly adverse conditions (I learned later there had been a severe accident that very day with someone falling from the ridge; and a fatality two or three days previously).

And then, in discussion with some other coaches, I was reflecting on taking risks as a coach, and recognising that I had never regretted taking a risk in that context, but had regretted occasions on which I had failed to do so.

At the level of physical risk, my conclusion is that I should start to act more like the venerable grandfather that I am, rather than the teenager I was thirty-five years ago. That is simply a matter of growing up.

But with regard to social or emotional risk, I have been reflecting on the excellent analogy in Daniel Nettle's book on Personality. He talks about smoke detectors, and points out that a smoke detector can fail in either of two ways.

On one hand, it can go off when it is not necessary; which leads to people standing outside in the rain waiting for the fire brigade to arrive and give the all-clear to re-enter the building. On the other hand, it can fail to go off when it should do, which leads to possible loss of life.  Naturally enough, manufacturers over-calibrate smoke detectors, so that the first error occurs, rather than the second.

Nettle's point is that our response to risk can be over-calibrated like that. Clearly, over the years, I have managed to over-compensate with regards to physical risk, but, like many people, social and emotional risk remains over-calibrated; so that there is always a tendency to over-react to perceived risk and refrain from, or withdraw from, situations that feel risky. 

And as with physical risk, the way to re-calibrate is experience: regularly pushing the boundaries of perceived risk, until I am more comfortable with it.

So if I offend you next time we meet, put it down to experimentation with calibration: it’s nothing personal!

Things we don't want to do...

Some time ago, a coaching client pointed out to me that there are only two types of things one can put on a to do list: the things we are going to do, and the things we are not going to do. His point was that life was much more pleasant (and productive) if we simply don't put on the list the things we are not going to do.

I remembered this twice during the week; once was in a meeting with a client who had realised since the last time we met, that the reason he had been unable to make time for the one really big priority that he had been procrastinating over for years, was that fundamentally, he didn't want to do it.  That realisation released a lot of energy (and some guilt and sense of incompetence). In particular, it freed him to identify what he really did want to do, and to get on with doing that.

And I had a similar experience myself. I was discussing with my coach various ideas to market my book, Shifting Stories, as sales have just started to slow down. (Did I mention I'd written a book? And that it's really very good?...) 

And we generated a number of ideas, including trying to get it reviewed in some of the professional journals, and what that would take (research, finding the right contacts, sending out copies, badgering the contacts etc - all with little prospect of success...). And I realised I just didn't want (or intend) to do those things. So instead of pretending (to myself or my coach) I simply said that I wouldn't. And that liberated a lot of energy for considering what I will do. Which includes more workshops for interested groups (I've a couple lined up already for the next month or so, and will seek to build on those); more conversations with people who already like the book (or the ideas it contains) about how they are using it, and how they might share the ideas; more use of social media (I quite enjoy blogging and writing Linked-In posts occasionally), and so on.

These are all activities I can commit to without my heart sinking; and as a result, not only am I more likely to do them, but I am more likely to do them in such a way that they are likely to be successful.

So I am now reflecting on where else in my planning this might apply: what else feels as though it deadens the soul, and how can I remove such items from my to do list, and replace them with activities that energise and excite?

So that's my top time management tip for this week: strike off the things you really have no intention of doing, and use the time and energy released for something more enriching.