A substantially revised version of this post is included in How to Deliver Critical Feedback, which also incorporates 15 years of my further work on communication and feedback.
Something's wrong at work. Maybe your boss is a micro-manager, or your subordinate is screwing up assignments, or your officemate is just really annoying you. You should talk to them, but it's going to be a difficult conversation–and if you find the courage to do it, will it really make a difference?
One of the most important skills that I've begun to develop is the art of discussing difficult issues in a direct way without being unduly confrontational or causing unnecessary defensiveness. (Note that I say "begun" because although I'd like to think I've made some progress over the years, I run into situations where I could have done better every week.)
In David Bradford and Allen Cohen's Power Up: Transforming Organizations Through Shared Leadership, which is the textbook for David's class at Stanford on High Performance Leadership, they call this skill Supportive Confrontation and describe four basic approaches to difficult conversations:
Approach 1: "This is the effect of your behavior on me"
You describe to the other person the negative impact they're having on you. This can be harder than it sounds because a) we often imagine that the difficulties others cause us are apparent to them, so they must be doing it intentionally, and b) this puts us in a vulnerable position relative to the other person, which is often tough to do in the workplace. But I'd suggest that a) what we imagine to be true isn't necessarily so–it's surprising how often people don't realize that they're causing problems, and b) exposing our vulnerabilities, rather than trying to deny or hide them, can be an empowering experience–in most cases people react with concern, interest and a desire to help.
That said, this is not about asking for sympathy; it's about stating the negative impact you're experiencing plainly and directly. However, as Bradford and Allen write, "This approach works only if [your] reactions cause [the other person] to want to change. But something else is needed if [the other person] is defensive, and tells [you], 'That is your problem, not mine,' or even worse, labels [you] as weak or over-sensitive." So on to…
Approach 2: "Your behavior is not meeting your apparent goals or intentions."
Just as people are often unaware of how their behavior affects us, they can be equally unaware of how their behavior affects their ability to achieve their goals or how it deviates from their stated intentions. We observe others' self-defeating behaviors or inconsistencies and imagine that they're irrational or hypocritical, but the truth is they simply may not have the data that we have by virtue of our outside perspective.
If someone's not going to be motivated to change because of their impact on you, perhaps they'll be motivated by their impact on themselves. The key here is linkage, a term that comes up frequently in Bradford and Cohen's work. They regularly emphasize the importance of leaders linking team members' personal goals to the goals of the larger group, and here they talk about linking your goal (i.e. getting the other person to change) to their goals, whatever they may be. But what if their goals are being met, despite (or even because of) their behavior? How might you evoke a desire to change? You can try…
Approach 3: "Your behavior may meet your goals, but it is very costly to you."
There's another type of blind spot–a person's inability to see what is being lost in their efforts to achieve their goals. Some people are so focused on reaching the finish line that they just can't see how many problems they're creating while running the race. Again, sharing data that you have from an outside perspective about the costs of their behavior can provide a powerful motive for change.
This can be a variation on Approach 1, in which you don't simply describe the negative impact of other person's behavior on you but show how it affects them as well. If in Approach 1 you'd say, "Your behavior is really bothering me," in Approach 3 you'd add, "…and as a result, I'm a lot less motivated to help you succeed."
Approach 4: "In what ways am I part of the problem?"
The first three approaches in Bradford and Cohen's framework are presented almost as sequential alternatives: If Approach 1 won't work, try Approach 2, and then move on to Approach 3. But I don't believe that Approach 4 should be regarded as the final step in this sequence, the last resort if all else fails. Rather, it's a tool that can be used to complement all the other approaches at any stage of the process. And given that most of our working relationships are systems in which our reactions to the other person's behavior affect and modify that behavior in turn, it's likely that we are part of the problem at some level.
We shouldn't use this approach as a political ploy. If you're completely confident that you're not part of the problem, don't ask this question just to seem nicer or more sympathetic; there are more effective and authentic ways to accomplish those goals (and if you're not making a genuine inquiry, the other person will see through it.) But I've come to realize that when I'm having a problem with another person, it's pretty rare that they're the exclusive source of the trouble.
In closing, throughout Bradford and Cohen's approaches to difficult conversations note the emphasis on behavior. It's essential to avoid guessing about another person's motives, because we can't know what they're thinking. Almost everyone believes they're acting rationally, and most of the time they are acting rationally based on the data they possess. (As the great French director Jean Renoir said, "The real hell of life is that everyone has his reasons.")
And although I've found Bradford and Cohen's work very helpful as a conceptual framework, we can't develop these skills by reading about them. We have to learn through experience, and one of the best places I've found to do that are the T-groups that are the basis for Stanford's Interpersonal Dynamics class, known to students as "Touchy Feely." But you don't have to attend the GSB to participate in a T-group–there are a host of programs around the world.
Revised March 2021.
4 Responses
Thanks, Matthew. Your experience highlights how exposing our vulnerabilities can be a powerful force for change. And it sounds like you knew your boss well enough to make some accurate guesses about his motives and likely responses. That said, I’m always extremely cautious when it comes to making assumptions about things I can’t see directly in another person–I think that gets us into deeper trouble more often than not.
Your experience is also further evidence to me that the best use of Myers Briggs and similar assessment tools is as a guide to tendencies, a rough prediction of how we’ll react in certain situations, and not as a definitive map of our style or personality. Your boss’s micro-managing style wasn’t the inevitable result of some inherent and unchangeable aspect of his personality, and when he was presented with new data (the fact that his style made you feel mistrusted), he was able to modify his behavior appropriately.
Ed
Ed, interestingly, these four techniques are very well reflected in Meyers Briggs style analysis. In fact, it’s useful to understand what the triggers are for the person you’ll be confronting. For instance, years ago when I first was in a work situation I had a boss who frustrated me no end because he kept getting into my business and micromanaging my job. I did some Meyers Briggs analysis and realized that he had an emotional trigger (he was an F or feeler rather than a T or thinker). Being a rationally triggered person, I’d been using arguments such as your 2 or 3 above. But when I changed to the first argument by telling him that when he overstepped it made me feel like he didn’t trust me, everything changed. He did a complete turnaround, and it was a great relationship from then.
Thanks, Charles–I like the simplicity, although I agree that Bradford and Cohen add subtleties that really bring these concepts to life. I definitely encourage people to read further in “Power Up” to get a fuller picture–these concepts come from Appendix A.
Also, a term that’s used in T-groups that has a lot in common with the guidelines you describe is “crossing the net.” It’s crossing the net to describe another person’s intentions or motives as if we truly know what they are. But our guesses are often inaccurate, and our descriptions often sound like hostile accusations.
Difficult conversations are easier when we stay on our side of the net and stick with our experience–things we know for certain.
This doesn’t mean that we can’t speculate about what another person is thinking, but we have to make it clear that it’s speculation, and we should preface it by describing specific actions by the other person that gave rise to our speculations.
Instead of, “Liam, I don’t think you’re taking this project seriously–I saw you using your BlackBerry during the team meeting,”, which leaps across the net to make an assumption about Liam’s level of commitment (and probably immediately provokes defensiveness), a better alternative is…
“Liam, when I saw you using your BlackBerry during the team meeting, it made me imagine that you aren’t taking this project seriously.”
Almost the same language, but 1) a description of the other person’s action that led to the speculation comes first, and 2) the speculation is clearly identified as such, which leaves open the possibility that it’s wrong and minimizes defensiveness.
Ed
Ed, thanks for introducing those concepts, I find them very succinct and powerful.
Years ago, I heard another even more shorthand way of ensuring effective difficult conversations. I heard it on NPR, I can’t remember the source.
It consists of two amazingly simple grammatical rules.
The first is never use the verb “to be” in any form. The second is don’t use any person except first person singular and third person impersonal.
The first rule keeps us from making unproveable asseertions–“you are an idiot,” “that is a crazy idea,” “that was a good movie.”
The second rule holds us to the only things we can say that are unchallengeable: “I feel attacked,” “I ran away when I heard that,” “the dog ran away when he saw that.”
I find very good philosophy and psychology underlying those two rules. The first one says get rid of metaphysics and stick to what’s observable. The second one is don’t attribute motives to anyone.
Pretty close to Bradford and Allan’s intent, I think, though a little less subtle.