Some years ago as my Friday ended, I walked into a VP’s office intending to simply wish him a good weekend. After a few pleasantries, we fell into a more serious conversation about one of his direct reports, who I’ll call Ted. Ted had was perhaps the most technically knowledgeable about certain aspects of the division. After all he’d been with the firm for twenty years or so.
The executive angled for advice and I obliged.
“I don’t really know what to do,” he admitted. “Ted has been here forever and I know he’s waiting for me to retire so he can move into my job. But the truth is he’ll never succeed me. He’s a nice guy, works hard and has my back, but he just doesn’t have the political acumen needed for the role. He’s too soft as a manager, too — I do a fair amount of behind the scenes work with some of his staff, listening to their concerns about his leadership. Oh, their complaints are nothing really serious. I guess, mostly I’m just concerned that he’s living with an illusion. If I tell him where he actually stands, he’ll either leave — which would be a problem since he knows so much, or he’ll stay and be unhappy and uncooperative and that could be a disaster. What do you think I should do?”
“It’s a thorny problem, for sure,” I confirmed. “What do you want to do?”
“Well, I need to bring up another of my Directors. I’ve got someone else in mind who I know could do it. He’ll be a much better fit for my job than Ted — when the time comes. I’m thinking of reorganizing, and I happen to know a good firm that facilitates this sort of thing quite well.”
My heart sank. I’d heard it and seen it so many times before: reorganize to actively avoid the painful transition from co-dependently maintaining others’ illusions to a more truth-based way of leading and managing. This all too popular solution avoids any meaningful, respectful form of coaching. That’s the nice way to say it. The less nice way is to talk about how cowardly and selfish it is and how dismissive of another human being. Oh, I know, this undoubtedly will sound rose-colored to some, but I have this belief, you see, that people ought not to abuse their power by avoiding that power’s core responsibility. They ought not turn management into a game by leaving out critical information.
This is not an uncommon sport. During my career I’ve met many executives who use the shell game of reorganization to avoid a truthful dialogue or confrontation. Avoid the whole process of facing human beings who might get angry or upset. It’s a more brutal form of that same old strategy — send so-and-so to training or coaching instead of actually talking to the person about what he or she is doing that gets in the way. The reorganization route is pathetically transparent, of course, especially when it’s done in the individual’s absence, such as when the person is on vacation.
Now, I know this isn’t an easy problem. I also know that some of it is inadvertent, meaning a leader actually believes this is a better way. But I cannot help but feel it is also a sign of insecurity and insensitivity and in turn creates these in others, too.
As it turned out, I fully agreed with the VP’s assessment of Ted as lacking both political acumen and a certain clarity in his supervisory style. I’d known and worked with him, and what his boss said was pretty much what everyone said behind his back, and it was what I, too, had observed, although I had never been in a position to coach Ted regarding his career. I had even wondered where he might have learned some of his bad habits.
“You can reorganize,” I said to the VP, “but here’s my observation: Ted will get it. He’s not stupid. He’ll know exactly what you are doing with the changes and how the cards are falling. It won’t make it easier for him. Instead it will confirm his fears and while he may never talk to you directly about the situation, it will likely affect him and his performance, and maybe his self-esteem, making it less easy for him adjust and building resentments that could last for years. My point is, you’ll have to deal with it one way or another. I don’t think you can escape your role. So the question is how do you want to deal with Ted? What do you think is the right thing to do?”
What was unspoken in my questions, of course, was the VP’s role in Ted’s illusions — and his own. Certainly Ted had a responsibility for open communication and getting feedback, but the VP did, too, as much or more than Ted did, and I think that’s what was really bothering the VP. He understood that this situation had been created little by little, fed by both parties until it became part of the system, part of the invisible rules of the relationship in which they were now both trapped.
In reply to my question the VP gave me a caustic look that quickly softened into a certain self-amused, even ironic expression. “You think I should talk to him, don’t you?” he replied. “That will be very hard for me — for both of us.”
And then we just sat for a moment silently. It was Friday, the end of the week. The VP turned his chair away from me to look out over the city as the sun settled behind a row of distant mountains and their shadows. He turned away, but I could tell he was thinking about what I had asked him, and he was almost smiling.
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Was the VP really afraid to approach and mentor Ted? Or was this a test for Dan to see what he would do in the situation?
From the last paragraph, I somehow see that the VP is testing Dan to see what he would do with Ted. I have been in a similar situation and asked my boss if he wanted me to talk to the person. I might have asked the VP the same question.
However, the VP has someone else in mind to move up to the position in question, which makes me think regardless of what Ted does to improve, the VP will not promote Ted.
Great article and very thought-provoking indeed. Thank you
Dan … your piece here has much to consider and is very much a reality in some form or another in our lives. Thanks for sharing your insights.
@David Thanks for stopping by! And thank you for your question and possible hypothesis. My impression was that there was no particular “test” for me involved here (although I’ve certainly been in that situation, like most consultants). I would say this was really a chance conversation, a “random act of consulting,” so to speak. The VP was not hoping I would be the messenger, and had he asked I certainly would have declined. Clearly this was not my work — it was his.
You are very right that there was no possibility Ted would be promoted, even if he improved. The relationship seemed old and fixed for a variety of reasons. The central issue for the VP was whether or not to be open with Ted as to why he would not succeed to the higher role — to have that truthful dialogue.
I would not say the VP was “afraid to approach and mentor.” It seemed to be more a matter of wanting to avoid discomfort and prevent the “messiness” and inconvenience of all that — while also feeling the inarticulate tug of a more ethical or empathic viewpoint someplace in the background of his own decision-making. I wouldn’t say the VP was a naturally selfish or insensitive guy — although I’ve also seen that one, as the post implies. In this case, I believe he was just having an argument with himself about what to do. My role seemed to be more of a friend, in a sense, holding him accountable for doing what he already knew at some level he would need to do — which was talk about the situation with Ted.
@Dean Thanks, Dean. I appreciate your kind words!
I like that you point out that it’s important people find ways of communicating directly about their views of other’s in preference to finding indirect ways of dealing with issues (such as hiring consultants to handle the reorganisation to avoid having a discussion with a particular person).
In reading through this post again, looking at how you communicated with the VP and in the post, I think you might have been inconsistent with your own views on effective communication. I wanted to highlight what I see and hear what you think, in the interest of me trying to learn more about the challenges of advocating and acting consistently with open and honest communication.
In the text of the post you describe your view of the VP’s action plan of reorganising around Ted and then getting a firm to facilitate it as potentially “cowardly and selfish and dismissive of another human being”. However I don’t see you sharing this view directly with the VP.
You describe what you said to the VP “My point is, you’ll have to deal with it one way or another. I don’t think you can escape your role. So the question is how do you *want* to deal with Ted? What do you think is the *right* thing to do?”
In your text you say “what was unspoken in my questions, of course, was the VP’s role in Ted’s illusions”. It seems to me that you were aware that your question contained an unspoken negative evaluation of the VP’s behaviour (“you, VP, are trying to escape your role and are not taking responsibility for open communication and getting feedback from Ted”) and I make the inference you were advocating the VP take action (“you have to deal with it and you should talk to Ted about it”).
The VP’s reply “You think I should talk to him, don’t you?” I infer that he realised that your questions were not genuine inquiries but were indirectly communicating your negative evaluation of his approach, and proposing your own approach.
It seems to me that you had views on the VP’s proposed actions that you didn’t share openly, or ask for feedback on. To me this seems inconsistent with your own view on the value of open, truthful dialogue that doesn’t leave critical information out. How do you see this? If you see it similarly, then I’m curious: what, if anything, lead you not to share your negative evaluations and proposal for action more directly with the VP?
You end describing that the VP’s non-verbal behaviour of turning his chair around and then smiling. You make an attribution about what the VP was thinking: “I could tell he was thinking about what I asked him”.
I could also imagine another explanation for the VP’s non-verbal behaviour. If I were in the VP’s position I could imagine thinking: “Dan is telling me to be open and direct with Ted with my negative evaluations of Ted’s abilities. Yet, Dan himself negatively evaluates my reorganising approach (he thinks I am trying to escape my role and is not the right thing to do), but he is not saying so openly or directly! He’s doing to me what he accuses me of doing to Ted. He’s advising me to act in a way but isn’t acting consistently with that approach himself.”
How do you see what I’ve described and the meaning I make of it?
As I said at the start, I share your view about the importance of having truthful, honest communication. I raise these concerns about the possible inconsistency between your advice and your actions because I think that inconsistency reduces the value of the advice. I think your post highlights the difficulty in producing communication that is consistent with these values — a topic that I would value continuing to discuss.
A friend and mentor referred me to this excellent piece. It is often true that executives seeking “advice” are just avoiding a confronting conversation. I remind that of some wisdom embedded in the development of our language.
“Con” is Latin for “with.” Con-front is to face something together, to move forward in unison. Sounds like every manager’s job. Doesn’t that make confrontation more appealing?
“Versare” meant to turn or change, especially to open or close a door. In early English a con-versation mean talking with another person to make a change, to open some doors and close others. Also a big part of managing.
Still, not everyone knows or remembers how to have this confronting conversations. Here is my step-by-step guide, for free: tiny.cc/toughtalk
@Benjamin Hi Benjamin — Thank you for your very thoughtful comment and the questions you raise. They are important ones to consider.
Clearly I made a choice in this situation not to lay out all my judgments with the VP, although I did hold them, including my belief that it would be better to talk with Ted directly. So it’s fair to ask whether I wasn’t being hypocritical in the way I delivered my advice. Being more direct might even have been a model for him to use in communicating with Ted, and we could have discussed that, too.
So why not? I chose to occupy non-directive rather than directive coaching space because I saw him struggling to make a decision, one that he already held an answer to internally. And even though I do believe he picked up what my perspective was, I was explicitly also saying he was responsible for making that decision on the basis of what he genuinely wanted and what he felt was genuinely right — so was he actually clear on those things? I intended through my questions to help him get at that “inarticulate tug of a more ethical or empathic viewpoint” that I mentioned in reply to David’s comment above, and to take personal ownership. The fact that I left the conversation open aimed to encourage him to go deeper for himself, and I did sense he got that point.
There is definitely, however, some risk in this non-directive approach. The person can revert to some self-justification for an easier course, perhaps by continuing to ask others the same question until the he/she finds the right reinforcement for a path he/she no longer has to own. The person could even turn on me as being inconsistent, as you mentioned. Having some history and a level of respect and trust with this particular VP reduced some, but not all, of that risk. In previous conversations with him, for example, I’d been quite open with him about my perception of his ongoing struggle with his conscience vs. his capacity to pull off expedient and sometimes very clever political solutions.
Does a principled, authentic approach always exactly model the kind of solution it offers another? Great question! I’d say it’s an imperfect and highly situational balancing act — a balance between service to others, trust, self-worth and doing the right thing.
I rarely receive such carefully drawn comments, Benjamin. I very much appreciate this reflection and I, too, would be open to further dialogue!
Best to you and thanks
Dan
@Tony Hello, Tony. Thank you very much for stopping by. I loved your discussion of the etymology of the word “conversation” — very cool! And thanks, too, for posting the link to your advice about how to tackle tough exchanges. It’s always great to see such models ones that can help us operationalize our desire to build truth and trust in relationships. Many best wishes to you and thanks again for taking the time to comment!
Dan, lovely article, I have enjoyed it and the comments from others immensely. As usual when I read your stuff, I have many things firing off for me. I just wanted to share one. I was reminded, when you wrote about the VP’s possible avoidance of a direct and honest conversation, of something a teacher of mine once said to me. It was in the course of directing a piece of work in action and I was receiving in vivo supervision. He said, “Look, if you relate to this person as if they are somehow disabled…as if you have to make it better for them…as if they do not have the capabilities to do what they need to do.…then you are not being of much use to them. Your job is to warm them up to what they already know how to do, NOT to relate to them as if they need some help.” In imagining the VP shying away from a potentially difficult or uncomfortable conversation, I also see myself carrying on an imagined conversation in my head and rejecting it because I unfairly make the assessment that the other person is somehow not capable of hearing it. It does me and the other person an injustice and is actually more related to my own fears than the other person’s “disability”. This scene you describe reminds me that a lot of my work is about warming people up to the truth that they already know and connecting them to the abilities that they already have. What masters of self-deception we humans are!
Warmly,
John
Thanks, John. I am very much with you on this — that we can disable others from their capacity to hear the truth and respond effectively, and that this can be a very self-protective move. Kind of the flip side of blaming someone else for the problem by telling yourself “they can’t take it.”
It’s an easy thing to slide into for all of us and highlights our need to be especially vigilant to our own escape routes, ego interests and defensiveness. Especially when we are just sure we are right.
On the other side, I believe it is also critical to offer some necessary self-soothing and self-compassion.
Perhaps that is one of the best ways to help: to make sure the balance is in place. To hold tension with me as well as with you, and to also be a kind of sanctuary for us both.
Dan,
Let me jump into this rich conversation.
Analysis aside, this piece highlights the realities we all face — even those “skilled” at communication and committed to conversation. These layered untruths are common in every work setting I have ever been part of — as a consultant or employee. I rarely meet people within entrenched systems who are able and willing to clearly and openly communicate — it’s risky, and the thing we call political acumen are the power arrangements we reinforce or challenge every day through our communication.
It takes real skill and awareness to do this. It takes honest self-assessment and emotional self-knowledge and comfort. Insights from neuroscience add another layer — if social brains are always assessing threat or reward in every interaction — how do we approach communication to be truthful and comforting at the same time?
It also takes courage.…Courage for employees and consultants invested in their jobs and future prospects. I’ve been in your situation and would love to say I’ve been 100% unambiguous 100% of the time…but I have not.
Although we may aspire to courage, transparency and full disclosure, we’re works in progress.
Thanks for another very honest article.
Louise
Louise~ What you write is so true. It takes skill, awareness, courage and recognition of the realities — and it is still hard. As a product of these factors, we consultants do make a choice about how we can personally proceed and do our best to be of help, imperfect as that help might be. Each of the comments to this post offers another lens and another approach. I love that! We each have our way of contributing and can learn from each other.
In this situation, I chose to side with ambiguity and use it to encourage the leader’s ownership of what I believed he knew was a better but tougher path. I simply “moved a pawn” in the chess game that might temporarily put his king at risk. Perhaps it was too subtle a play — and I really don’t like playing anyway. It’s a crappy way to consult.
So, too much was left out by the leader and by me — that is the point of this post, after all. And yet I also have to say, and this too reflects why I wrote this piece, there’s always that thing about the tone and presence of an exchange such as the one we had, and there’s something about the moment, and how very small turns of the dial can unexpectedly open a new frequency. Sometimes less is indeed more. Sometimes silence itself is the mirror and the actual change agent at work.