Thank Heavens: A Good Text!...

You know that feeling - you're slogging through worthy and thoughtful, and probably valuable, texts on whatever it is you are studying, and suddenly you stumble across one that is written to be read, thought-provoking, exciting even - and thoroughly re-energising.  Thus me, studying for my Coaching Supervision Qualification.  Yes, yes, Hawkins and Shohet is essential reading, and their 7-eyed model is not without merit; and de Haan can't be ignored, and has some real insights; and then there's some good essays in some of the collections (The Heart of Coaching Supervision and Full Spectrum Supervision)... But to be honest it can all get a bit wearisome.  And then someone (whom I can't remember, or I would call down blessings on her (or conceivably his) head) suggested Hewson and Carroll's Reflective Practice in Supervision. So I dutifully bought it, it arrived, and the clouds parted, the sun came out, and birds began to sing.

It's not just that it's well written - though it undoubtedly is.  The authors have thought carefully about what will be useful to busy practitioners and have structured and signposted the book well. And it's not just that the content is good - though again it undoubtedly is: it gives the clearest idea of what is distinctive about supervision that I have read; and has a number of simple but profound frameworks that one can instantly recognise as useful, but also as worthy of further reading and thought.  But also, it builds on, refers to, and expands many of my particular areas of interest.  Michael White of Narrative Therapy fame, is an acknowledged reference point, as is Nancy Kline, of the Thinking Environment, for example.

So do I really like it because it speaks to my prejudices?  I think not, for I disagree with it (and with White and Kline) in various important ways.  In fact, interestingly, it offers a particular approach (the Consolidation Stance) that fills what seems to me to be the biggest gap in Kline's model. Nancy seems to assume that once one has had the right thought(s) then right action will follow as day follows night.  Not so Hewson and Carroll. They recognise that more is needed (as indeed does Scott, in his ground-breaking Shifting Stories, where the last part of the model, Enriching the Plot, addresses precisely that issue... but I digress...)

So if you happen to be studying to be a Coaching Supervisor, this is highly recommended.  Or if you are a coach, I think there is a lot to learn from this.  But above all, if you are thinking of writing a book for practitioners, have a look at this as a model - and compare it with other, worthy but weighty texts: you will learn a lot.

Learning Questions

Reg Revans: Founder of Action Learning

Running an Action Learning set recently, I was reminded once again of how difficult participants sometimes find it to ask appropriate questions, particularly at the start of the process.  At the end of the first day, that is typically one of the learning points.  Participants understand the principle well enough: that the kinds of questions that are helpful in this context are questions that are designed to help the problem-owner think differently about the problem, in the hope that some insight may arise; as opposed to questions designed to help the questioner understand the problem better, or questions that are actually suggestions, posing as questions. 

For example, questions such as How many people are involved in this? will not help the problem-owner at all. He or she already knows this - it adds nothing to his or her understanding. It merely helps the questioner understand the issue more clearly. And underlying that is the strong drive in the questioner to try to help by solving the problem.  

And that leads onto the second type of inappropriate question: How would they react if you...? Clearly, that is, in fact, a suggested solution. 

So, why are such questions inappropriate?  Because they do not help the problem-owner to think differently about the problem and gain new insight. Rather, they spring from a strong habit of hands-on problem solving.

And, as I say, participants in new Learning Sets generally understand this, once we discuss it; but frequently they still find it difficult not to ask such questions; even though, as problem owners, they also recognise that the high-value questions are of another type altogether, such as What are your blind spots about this issue?

It is not surprising, of course that they are still learning the ropes, at the first meeting of the Set. And generally by the second meeting, they are getting better at formulating appropriate questions; but it is very interesting to see how deeply engrained the problem-solving approach to helping is, even in senior leaders.  However, my belief is that if they want to get the very best out of their people, questions that develop their staff's ability to think for themselves, rather than be led to solutions by their bosses, are actually very valuable.

Coaching Supervision

One of the questions that we have been debating at the Coaching Supervision Partnership is the difference between Supervision, and Coaching a Coach.

The Partnership is a group of experienced coaches who have come together to co-design a Coaching Supervision development programme, (accredited by the ILM at Level 7) initially for themselves, and ultimately (potentially) for others, too.

So the question, What do we mean by Supervision? is of course a key concern. Initially, some of us were fairly unclear whether there was any difference between supervision and providing coaching for a coach. But at our second workshop, yesterday, it was evident that peoples' understanding had developed.  And that was largely as a result of our practice in-between the first two workshops, when each of us supervised, and was supervised by, one of the other members of the Partnership.

What emerged was a much greater clarity about the fact that supervision is quite distinct.  In particular, it is about bringing a level of expertise and experience to the conversation.  When coaching, one need not be an expert in the discipline of the coachee;  I coach Vice Chancellors of Universities, for example, but could not possibly do their job. But when one supervises a coach, one needs to be have expertise in coaching - and that changes a lot of other things.

For example, it implies an obligation (as well as the ability) to evaluate the coach's practice and give feedback on that; likewise to focus on the coach's CPD; and to contract with the coach explicitly about both of those as areas of focus.  Further it implies a responsibility beyond the coach - for the welfare of the coach's clients, and for the reputation of the coaching profession.

We spent a lot of time yesterday discussing the various models of supervision that are out there, and it was interesting to reflect that nome of them seemed to focus on this, which seems to us a crucial distinctive of the supervisory relationship.  Indeed, none of the models seemed fully adequate to us - some were good but too limited in their scope; others (the Full Spectrum approach, for example) seemed to be trying to be too all-encompassing and ultimately impractical (and in my view, making spurious and overblown claims, too).  So one of the questions or indeed challenges we have set ourselves is to see if we can develop a model (or possibly a set of nested models: a high-level simple one, with detail sitting under it) that we believe to be less inadequate.  Should we manage that, you can be sure that I will report it here (but don't hold your breath....)

Bad Habits

'Don't look at your hands!' That was my son, Michael, watching me practicing the piano.  It was partly tongue in cheek (and partly just cheek) but also a quotation from his fearsome former piano teacher.

And also very good advice. For he noticed that I had got into a bad habit, and was giving me some timely feedback. The reasons for not looking at one's hands when playing the piano are many, and known to me.  But - as with so many bad habits - there is a short term benefit to doing so: it is easier.

So I have been working on playing the pieces I am currently working on with my eyes firmly fixed on the sheet music, which has been both difficult and beneficial.

Interestingly, it also makes more sense of one of the Oscar Peterson exercises I am working on: the fingering seemed mad to me: it involved moving one's hands dramatically between each bar. There was an easier way to finger that exercise.  But doing it as written, without watching is actually a very useful skill development exercise.

The resonance of that is enormous, it seems to me. So often we adopt maladaptive strategies that have a short term benefit but a long term cost. And very quickly these can become habits,  and then (being habitual) feel the 'right' thing to do. This applies to the way we manage our time (working through lunch breaks to get more done etc), our energy (using caffeine to keep going; skipping our exercise because we are too busy), and even our posture (sitting slouched because it is more comfortable).

And part of the delight of being a father of grown-up children, is having them calling me to order, challenging me to live up to the expectations I have of them, and doing so with great perception and wit!

Salutogenic coaching

Friday's Cumbria Coaching Network meeting, led by Sue Jackson, was on Salutogenic Coaching. (Salutogenesis is a medical approach focusing on factors that support human health and well-being, rather than on factors that cause disease (pathogenesis).

The main thesis, based on work with people who have survived stressful change effectively, and the work of Anton Antonowski, is that a Sense of Coherence is a crucial factor.  A sense of coherence reflects a person's view on life, and capacity to respond to stressful and chaotic situations.  Sue works extensively with people who have a diagnosis of cancer, which grounded the work in a particular context.

A sense of coherence has three key components: Comprehension, Meaning, and Management.

Comprehension is essentially cognitive, and is about having adequate cognitive resources available to meet the demands placed on the individual.

Meaning is seen as motivational (think Viktor Frankl); that the demands are worth investing in, leading to a new or adapted frame; it leads the individual to engage with the demands. Management is behavioural, the coping/management strategies the individual engages in, so that stimuli are structured, explicable and predictable.

Thus helping people to develop or strengthen their sense of coherence may involve helping them to reorientate their life perspectives, develop the capacity to respond to stressors, and/or set up a different and balanced path to cope with change.

And there was even a four box model (from the work of Sarah Corrie) for me to add to my collection!  The key issue from that being that if someone is low on both resources and functioning, a referral to therapy is normally more appropriate than coaching.

It was a very stimulating and useful morning; and I am interested in how the Sense of Coherence model maps onto others (such as Bridges' Transition model, and my own ManyStory approach).

Another day at the Collegiate...

Yet again, Nancy Kline's Thinking Environment Collegiate Day was profound and thought provoking. We discussed a lot, but I want to focus on just one part of the day.

Nancy is keen to encourage us to explore and expand our understanding of the components of a Thinking Environment. One of the components is Place; and the starting point is that place matters. Place, in fact, is a silent form of appreciation, so where possible, choosing a place that says to people: you matter! is helpful. But Nancy was looking beyond that understanding of place, and thinking about the place where we do our thinking, and the place where we pay attention: that is to say, our bodies. 

So she invited us to think about this question: What is the one thing you know you need to do to ensure that you are saying with your life, "My body matters?"

I was interested in my initial reactions to this question. On the one hand, I was thinking, it's not just my body, but my mind  and my soul, that are important. And on the other, I was feeling a bit complacent: I keep myself fit, exercise well, eat a sensible diet, am moderate in my use of alcohol and caffeine, sleep well, and so on.

But in thinking aloud about the question with a Thinking Partner for a few minutes, I identified four areas that need attention.  One is breathing.  I have long been aware that I have bad habits with regard to breathing, and that particularly affects my singing.  So if I really want to live as though my body matters, I should sort that out.  A second is posture - for the son of an Alexander Technique teacher, I have a remarkably bad habit of slouching; again, something that should be addressed. A third is over-work: I sometimes allow my schedule to get so busy that I practically collapse on my eventual return home from a trip. That, too, is scarcely treating my body as it should be treated. And the fourth is bottling up emotions: I need to find better ways to express and discharge disruptive emotions, rather than ignoring them and pretending that I'm immune to them.

So, from feeling complacent, and that this question wasn't really relevant to me, I moved to a position of insight and commitment: all because someone listened to me thinking out loud for fifteen minutes...

And the question that's intriguing me is about my initial responses to the question. Were they a form of denial, an expression of the lack of importance I attach to my body and how I use it?  And if so, what else am I denying, without knowing that I am doing so?

What is not discussable?

Recently I was at a talk at a University by a transgender campaigner. This person (let's say Sam as nicely sex-ambiguous name*) made a very articulate and passionate case for a worldview that included the closing down of discussion, adding passionately: ‘I will not debate my right to exist.’

Of course, Sam has every right to say such a thing on a university campus. What disturbed me rather more was that Sam was introduced with such a eulogy by a very senior member of the academic community, that it was clear that it would be foolhardy to express any view, or ask any question, that suggested that one did not subscribe to the ‘inclusive’ agenda as propounded.  But of course, nobody was proposing to debate Sam's existence - that was mere rhetoric. What some may have wanted to debate was Sam’s interpretation of Sam's, and others’, thoughts and behaviour (Sam made a very damning accusation of those who disagree with that worldview).

I find this severely problematic for at least two reasons. One is that the whole trans philosophy seems remarkably ill-founded to me. I don’t know what it feels like to be a man - only to be myself, who happens to be a man. I can see many ways in which I conform to some of the stereotypes about manliness, but many others in which I diverge from them. Indeed, as a boy I was subjected to much bullying for not being ‘manly’ enough. Given that, it is far from obvious to me how I could possibly ‘know’ that I was a woman? And I simply do not believe that it is possible to change from a man into a woman - or vice versa.

And that is particularly true, of course, of the young. We know that we all experience emotional turbulence and confusion during puberty and adolescence. The fact that there has been a sudden, massive surge in the number of teenage girls suddenly recognising that they are ‘really’ boys should at least give some pause for thought. Much of the trans agenda, at least as expressed by some activists, seems to me to be about conforming (or not) to stereotypical ideas of masculinity and femininity. Further, we know a lot about the malleability of the brain, and about social contagion. It is not for nothing that journalists and other commentators are very careful about how they report on suicides: social contagion is a real risk.  But some trans activists seem to be weaponising the risk of suicide recklessly, in pursuit of their agenda. 

Moreover, the whole issue of self-identification is profoundly problematic. To say that some may abuse such a system, whether it is men who want access to vulnerable women in hostels (or even prisons) or teenage boys who think sleeping in tents with teenage girls might be appealing, or not-quite-top sportsmen and athletes who see a sudden route to fame and riches, is to say nothing whatsoever about people who genuinely suffer from gender dysphoria. It is merely a reflection on the venality of some people and it is naive in the extreme to suggest that would never happen.

However, to raise these concerns is to be greeted with the accusation of transphobia: the debate is being shut down. Monday's articles in The Times have already resulted in strident accusations of that thought-crime.

And that is my second problem. I may well be wrong in my scepticism about the trans movement. But if we can’t discuss it in a civilised, intellectual, and coherent way, then I, and doubtless many others, will never be convinced.  We may be frightened into silence (I probably won’t be…) but that is not the same thing - and is in fact very dangerous. And surely, universities, of all places, should be where such issues should be discussed and debated. But so often, in an effort to show how inclusive they are, they have signed up with no intellectual scrutiny to the Stonewall agenda - one that many see as profoundly problematic on this topic. And then, discussion is stifled, as the academic at Bath found, who wanted to research (from a sympathetic viewpoint) those who detransitioned, and was prevented for doing so, because it might bring the institution into disrepute.

The stakes are high. If I am right, then there is a real risk that significant numbers of children are undergoing life-changing surgery, resulting in a life-long dependence on medication, sterility, and little likelihood of relief to their real and profound emotional and psychological distress. If I am wrong, then of course I should be educated - but by real research and evidence-based argument, not by a strident rhetoric, and accusations that I am a bigot for asking honest questions.

* I refrain from using any personal pronouns or other gender-specific language in this account, as on the one hand, I don’t want to be bullied into seeming to subscribe to an ideology that I do not share, but on the other hand, do not wish to be offensive. In passing, I note that in another verbal sleight of hand, ‘preferred’ pronouns are in fact being made compulsory pronouns…