The charge surprised me. The mother’s plea for help came in a dispute over an easement for a farm’s driveway.

As the court-appointed mediator in this property rights disagreement, I expected conflict from the “disputants.” But I was not anticipating charges involving potential harm to children.

I felt my mind reeling. I tried to hide being stunned.

I knew I needed to learn more about this situation — rapidly becoming more complex than a dispute over grading and gravel.

I gathered my senses, managed as compassionate an expression and tone of voice as I know how. Gently, I asked, “What do you mean by bullying?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean?,” she exclaimed. “I told you they’re bullying my children. You’re not listening to me!”

My earnest attempt to improve communication, to clarify, to calm a tense situation backfired. For reasons that will be explained in a moment, my good intentions had an effect in direct opposition to my intentions.

The mother I hoped to calm and reassure became angrier and more suspicious of the legal proceedings in which she was already a reluctant participant. 

I blew it.

The good news: This was a training exercise. “Mom” was a fellow colleague taking the mediation certification course as part of the Commonwealth of Virginia’s commitment to Alternative Dispute Resolution.

The bad news: “Mom” really did feel that I wasn’t listening to her when I asked her, “What do you mean by ‘bullying’?”

Such a clarifying question might seem neutral and helpful on the one hand. But on the other, what might it suggest to the person of whom it’s asked? How about: You’re not clear. You’re not making sense. You are confusing me. And so on.

Ouch!

Fortunately, “Mom,” I, and our fellow role players were under the helpful tutelage of mentor mediator Tanya Denckla-Cobb who’s been mediating since 1991, and co-founded the Virginia Natural Resources Leadership Institute where she serves as faculty.

In the debrief following the (fortunately!) successful farm easement mediation (where, yes, we also finally reached clarity and resolution around the “bullying” issue), Tanya offered this wise counsel.

Rather than ask someone an abstract question such as ‘What do you mean?’ which leads to ‘What do you mean what do I mean?!,’ ask for examples.

Humanize the situation.

‘Oh you have children? Tell me about your children….

‘Now, tell about a time when they were bullied. What happened?’

This takes the exchange from the abstract and conceptual to very concrete, specific, and humane.

Eureka! And: of course. Thank you, Tanya! Beautifully put.

In some ways, when you stop to think about it, isn’t it simply amazing that communication — as a fully appreciated exchange of meaning — ever happens? 

So much goes against an appreciated exchange of meaning in a complex, diverse society. Everyone comes to a conversation with such different contexts, and often from divergent perspectives and worlds from which their words spring.

As Richard E. Palmer wrote in his classic Hermeneutics book (about interpreting meaning), “we exist in and through” language, “we see through its eyes.”

Language defines our personal world. So when we converse, discuss, or argue with another person literally two worlds intersect. Or collide.

It is whole worlds that each of us brings to a conversation. We speak and listen with our own specific assumptions about the world, our own priorites, values and intentions. Our words, and our interpretations of others’ words, are colored and filtered by our highly indvidualized interpretations of the past, as well as our personal hopes and expectations for the future, along with our fears — some buried deep. 

All that enters the exchange of words in any moment, plus whatever interpretations we make of what we see and hear in the present, which of course, won’t be perceived the same way by any two people. 

Every communication exchange is deeply layered.

When we ask others for specific, concrete examples of what exactly they are talking about — with compassion and empathy — we increase the odds that our worlds will peacefully intersect, and we increase the chances for shared understanding of meaning. 

Since all our actions serve somebody or something, it can be helpful to discern to what or whom your actions are in service, and what explanation you are telling yourself about that.

The chart below outlines three components to actions that one considers necessary. Most any action that one would justify can be described by taking a term from each of columns A, B, and C. 

Column A: The language one uses to explain or justify their dutiful action. The explanation can be framed positively (I must) or negatively (I have no choice; I can not avoid this).

Column B: Descriptors for the energy underlying the impetus to act in this way. In other words, how people describe the stimulus to act.

Column C: The object being served by the individual’s action. In other words, what is the purpose (or who is beneficiary) of your action?

Example: “I have to wash the car before my in-laws come to visit!”

Q. You have to?

A. Yes!

Q. What does the “have to” energy feel like? 

A. Well, I sure have a strong urge to do it. I made sure to put it on my to-do list.

Q. What happens if you wash the car?

A. They will know that I care about them [understood expectation of others] and that I am a responsible person [role, ideal].

Q. Anything else?

A. Yeah. My father-in-law always kept an immaculate car [tradition]. You could have eaten off the floor mats.

Using this process, you can help determine the underlying causes for your actions. By making hidden goal(s) explicit, you can assess your actions and motives afresh. This gives you choices about what actions you might take. The objective: assess your reasons for action so that must and have to always can be genuinely expressed as choose to.

1) The error of Aristotle’s categories. Following Aristotle’s penchant for ultimate categories, this approach assumes that people can be labeled, typed, or otherwise defined into restrictive categories by particular markers of their behavior. In a word, this is folly. The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI), the DISC behavioral profile, the Enneagram, or any other system that labels, typifies, or otherwise categorizes a person commits several errors.

First, that the complexity and diversity of humanity can be shoe-horned into a few descriptive categories. Second, that history is destiny. Because you’ve behaved this way in the past does not mean that’s how — or who! — you are. Third, that “discovering” your type somehow leads a path forward to a fuller, better expression of your self. Often, of course, the opposite occurs. One “learns” that they “are” an ESFP or a High I, or whatever the label was provided by the so-called personality or behavioral assessment, and they embrace the label. Then they use it to explain and justify their behavior. Nothing changes.

2) The error of Newtonian “cause and effect.” It may be tempting to seek a simple explanation for what people do by engaging some predictive formulation. But such an approach denies the complexity of human mental functioning, and it denies what in truth is our vast ignorance of the many processes underlying what each of us thinks and feels (our cognitive operations and affective states).

A Newtonian view of human action leads to behaviorism — i.e., an approach predicated on the simplistic premise of to change outcomes, change the stimuli or consequences. This naive approach fails to account for both the complexity of our minds, and the complicated circumstances in which we live. People do not respond to the world like computers respond to binary programming (instructions consisting of 1 or 0, on or off). Our minds are unlike other machines — or even many of our own biological processes — any of which, in comparison to a human mind are simple and predictable. The hallmark of humanity may well be our inconsistency, our volatility; and we owe that to our inherent complexity.

3) The error of Freud’s “it’s all in your mind” (especially the deep, dark recesses of your mind) approach to the origins of behavior. While psychoanalysts rightfully point to the power of out-of-awareness mental forces, they tend to undervalue three other factors as influencers to shaping the specific behavior of an individual:

a) the power of social interactions (how others influence who we become and what we do),
b) one’s physical and affective states in a particular situation (bodily or somatic and emotional influences), and
c) external environmental factors that create the unique context of any given moment.

Without question, there is much to respect, admire, and learn from all of the great thinkers whose ideas get misapplied or overgeneralized by well-meaning people as they attempt to explain or define human behavior. Yet, inadequately applying great thinkers’ conclusions does a disservice to understanding the origins and on-going causes of human actions. And such practices severely hamper ernest efforts to evolve or change those patterns of behavior.

People do what they do for myriad reasons. Rather than explaining a person’s actions by trying to define their “personality type,” it is much more helpful to think of a person’s actions as recurring patterns of behavior. While we may all be somewhat unpredictable, at the same time, we also tend to repeat certain patterns. Those patterns can be identified and understood in a holistic and systemic way.

Looking at patterns, and the multiple contributing factors underlying them, is much more instructive — and helpful — for evolving one’s behavior.

This is exactly the approach we take with our coaching clients. What you’ve been doing cannot be explained by labeling you. Your actions, even your recurring patterns of action, can be assessed, understood, and therefore addressed. This approach makes self-improvement much easier, and more effective, than either trying to “change your personality,” or merely trying to adjust your actions without also addressing the forces which led to the actions you took.

Human behavior results from many influences. It is the output of many complex inputs, and those inputs vary — which is why your actions vary over time and between situations. Your actions are neither explained nor made accessible by labeling or typing them.

To effectively evolve your actions means seeing and understanding them with a view broader than well-intended but misguided psuedoscientific explanations, no matter how impressive their pedigree.

The difference between seeing a situation—in your role as a manager, a parent, a local resident on a jury—as objective or subjective, is often your personal feelings.

Even for the best intending of us, it is near impossible to instantly set aside existing personal feelings when trying to assess the behavior of someone we believe we know, as though they were nothing but a mere object to us. (The converse can also challenge us: when we coldly make a decision that will affect others with little or no regard for the human impact of our “business decision.” More on that another time.)

Prejudice at Work

I’m not proud to admit this, but I’ve caught more than one or two fleeting glimmers of my unintended personal bias in the workplace.

As a manager: I’d excuse a sub-par performance from someone I generally liked and respected; or I’d come down inordinately harshly on the work of someone I didn’t particularly care for.

Same thing when teaching college courses: I’d catch myself evaluating a test answer or essay with thoughts like, “Oh, I know she knows this stuff even if this piece of her writing doesn’t show it.” Or, “Hey, for him, that’s a pretty good argument.”

There’s a name for this condition. It’s called: Being human.

We all respond to others with our inescapable prejudices and emotional reactions. Sometimes it’s because that person, at some level, reminds of us someone else from our life experience, such as a brother or sister, a parent, aunt or uncle, a favorite (or not) teacher or coach. Psychologists call that transference because you are transferring, unknown to your conscious mind, feelings from one situation in your past to the circumstance in the present.

Or, your assessment of someone could be based on your seeing the other as representing something you either don’t like (or fear) about yourself or very much like or want for yourself. For example, you judge the other as being lazy, or ambitious; or overbearing, or too withdrawn; and the like. All because this is how you feel about yourself, even if you haven’t admitted such a truth to yourself. Psychologists call this projection, because you are projecting your feelings about yourself onto another.

You might be inclined to doubt or deny such powerful forces. But they are at work, often out of our awareness, constantly and universally. The human mind is a wonderfully complex and mystical thing.

Moving Beyond Bias

As a leader, your credibility depends on treating everyone fairly. And that means seeing their actions as they truly are—not through the lenses of favor or condemnation.

Strive to eliminate the pull of your (inherent, perfectly natural) personal feelings. Test your impulsive inclinations by:

• Balancing your subjective judgments with objective facts. 
• Seeking the input of others who may have differing perspectives on the matter. Ask others for the bases of their perceptions.
• Engaging your analytic faculties. Employ the discipline of rigorous fact-based thinking, consideration of alternative points of view, and a commitment to seeing past your initial conclusions.

The undeniable reality: No matter how conscientious any of us is, we cannot ever fully escape our perceptions, sculpted in large measure by our emotions born of experiences, some long forgotten.

While you cannot escape such out-of-awareness influences on your perceptions and judgments, you can be mindful that these hidden influences are real and present even if not immediately visible.

When you detect (or others suggest) that your personal feelings may ever so subtly color or cloud your assessment of a fellow human’s performance, catch yourself. And right yourself. Let good data temper your feelings and influence your decisions and judgments. If you lack good objective data, get some.

You cannot escape human prejudice and bias, or the distortions of your own perceptions. You can, however, take all that into account, and balance it with a commitment to facts, diversity of thinking, and fairness.

In essence, my focus is to help clients increase their capacity to successfully navigate and negotiate the complexity in their lives.

The means by which I enable clients to do this: Assisting them to look afresh at three fundamentals factors that support their current actions and results.

1) What they are doing — and not doing.

2) How they are doing the activities on which they spend their finite energy and time.

3) The thinking that underlies the choices they’re making — and not making. (This is the most important component.)

This approach is largely influenced by my doctoral work over the past three years focusing on two main bodies of research:

1) The influence of the systems surrounding you as you work and live.

2) The beliefs you hold — some of which may lie far outside your awareness. And the impact of your beliefs on: A) your judgments; and B) your actions.

What does any of that have to do with accomplishing goals for your coaching? Having a specific outcome or goal is not the objective of the coaching I do with clients — though it is the starting point.

In seeking coaching, you may want to relate to other people with greater ease, or delegate more effectively, or think more strategically and less tactically.  These are all examples of portals in to the coaching process… 

Contrary to the popular prevailing conception, effective progress does not begin with “the end in mind.” In fact, as F. M. Alexander (The Use of the Self) demonstrated back in the early 20th century, an “end-gain” focus can be terribly deleterious to an improvement effort.

Concentrating on the objective usually leads to more anxiety, not more productive thinking or improved action. When you focus your attention and effort to the desired end, it constricts effective action more often than metabolizes it.

The objective of the coaching is beyond changing or adopting a behavior. The aim is to expand your repertoire; to provide you with more useful options for effective perception, thought, and action.

My role is to enable your development by your increasing your capacity so that you naturally take “right actions.”

Such enhanced capability results from your attention to evolving capacities across domains: cognitive processes, emotional awareness, physical being, and action.

The attention and very practical processes we use in the coaching relationship to enhance your awareness leads to more fully understanding yourself and the systems of which you are a part. As a consequence, desirable outcomes flow to you as a natural outgrowth of the work.

So, to answer succinctly the question that opened this discussion: My focus as a coach is to work as a partner to help clients catalyze and shepherd their own development. The goal: Turn your innate capacities into realized capabilities that yield desired outcomes.

By focusing on developing (not changing or achieving), you evolve to become the wonderful person and leader for which you natively possess the potential.

Ask these important questions:

• What outcome do you expect that “assessments” will deliver?
• What information will these instruments give you that
  A) you need to make progress on the hindering issue, and
  B) you truly don’t already have?

Here’s my hypothesis: A request to deploy assessments is usually made with the best of intentions, but just as often is unwittingly used to skirt ordeflect an identifiable issue that a group (or an individual) has not admitted to itself, knows it needs to address, but fears facing head on.

This is because the assessment process is a perfect device to enable postponing or flat-out avoiding a critical conversation in a socially acceptable way. Taking time to complete and ponder over assessments gives the appearance of attempting to work on the underlying issue.

However, the assessment-taking process consumes a great deal of time and mental energy, so it ends up being the perfect dodge. After all, there’s the taking of the assessment, getting educated about it, debriefing what the assessment tells you and doesn’t, discussing what the results might mean, how the findings might be applicable to current circumstances, and so on. Again, almost like magic, the real issue(s) manages to escape resolution.

When considering the use of an assessment, the real question to assess:

What will any assessment tell you that is worth the time, trouble and distraction to keep you from talking about known matters that will help youmove forward in a meaningful way? (If you believe an assessment is necessary, what evidence do you have for that conclusion?)

While almost all organisms have to actually experience the stimuli of life first hand, the human brain’s ability to ‘learn’ perceptions is so advanced that we can actually acquire perceptions indirectly from teachers. Once we accept the perceptions of others as ‘truths’ their perceptions become hardwired into our own brains, becoming our ‘truths.’

- Bruce H. Lipton, The Biology of Belief, pp. 103-104

Both your body and mind offer interpretations of experience. Often these
interpretations involve your values and judgments of that experience.

While your mind cognitively processes its perceptions with justifications
and explanations, your body simply experiences them unfiltered.

Thus, “listening to your body” can offer a pure channel of information about
how you “feel” about something.

We cannot transform the world by bringing up children who are free of neuroses. It has been the burden of utopian thinkers since Plato to pin their hopes on early education as the method for transforming social life. But the conditions for sickness are built into infantile dependency and the child’s capacity for fantasy.

Rather, the theory of reparation suggests that development — repair work, the work of making people whole — need not stop.  Reparation, as [Melanie] Klein suggests, takes place in a particular psychodynamic ‘position,’ not at a particular stage of life. This position can be attained at any point in the life cycle.

Thus failure does not condemn us to sinfulness as it did in the industrial culture. We can recover our wholeness at many points in the life cycle; our failures at one point do not preclude recovery and repair at another.

In a developmental culture, adults can continue the work of reparation throughout their lives and can do so, in particular, through their work.

— Larry Hirschhorn
The Workplace Within: Psychodynamics of Organizational Life
p. 238