communication

Unintended Consequences

In the social sciences, unintended consequences are outcomes that are not the ones foreseen and intended by a purposeful action.

That’s the Wikipedia definition. Let’s look at how unintended consequences play out in the workplace.

I was working with a team of leaders in an organization where some reconfiguration had occurred. In typical workplace fashion, decisions had been made unilaterally by upper management, and information about the changes had not been communicated effectively downstream. We spent the better part of a meeting deliberating about what had happened and I’ll admit, most of the talk was negative.

To bring the conversation around to something more productive, I asked my colleagues to start focusing on what they thought might be the unintended consequences of the decisions that had been made. Shifting our focus, I hoped, would help us generate solutions to the issues we were facing.

There are many examples of unintended consequences in history: eliminating a “pest” animal only to find that it served an important purpose in the ecosystem; positioning one curb cut at the corner of a sidewalk as a cost saver, making positioning for a safe crossing challenging for a person who is blind. We often talk about unintended consequences in relation to government regulations and environmental impact. But what do they have to do with leadership?

There are three potential effects of a decision or action that might be unintended:

·      Unexpected benefits

·      Unexpected drawbacks

·      Perverse results

In special education, I saw unexpected benefits to practices that I had initially deemed problematic. For example, a student who was perfectly capable of finding her way between classes held onto the cart that held her gear as a student pulled it along. At first I admonished her for being dependent on her classmate, until she told me that the opportunity to chat during the exercise was helping her make friends.

Of course there are many examples of unexpected drawbacks. A blindness organization chose black coffee cups as give-aways for their marketing campaign, not considering that pouring black coffee into a black cup was difficult for those with low vision. Another organization created an internal marketing campaign around a “promise” that backfired because they didn’t understand the organization’s skeptical culture.

Perverse results are those that have the opposite effect of the intended action. In the ‘80s when deinstitutionalization was in full swing, a well-meaning colleague suggested that children with multiple disabilities who were moving into public school classrooms should be given beanbag chairs and radios as an effective educational model.  Thankfully, her suggestion was overridden by those who actually understood best practice for these students.

So what do unintended consequences have to do with leadership? A lot.

I have been surprised by how little leaders seem to consider unintended consequences. As I moved into increasingly complex leadership positions, I learned to ask those in the trenches what consequences might occur if a certain change took place. I also learned to list potential consequences when making a decision—both positive and negative, in a balance sheet analysis.

For example, an announcement trumpeting a leader’s promotion is best not made on the heels of one about minimal salary increases for those working frontline. Or this one:  After a company-wide “Trust” survey showed unrest and distrust in the company’s leadership, a communication went out that the executive team had heard the concerns and would be communicating soon about their plans to improve… and then failed to follow up. Intentions were good in both scenarios, but each further eroded the relationship between leadership and staff. 

Think about the results of your actions. Think about the impression you are making. And make the effort to identify and then address anything that will negatively impact others. While you can’t mitigate all unintended consequences, getting ahead of them with respect and communication will make you a better leader and help those around you appreciate their jobs AND you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pick up the phone.

This blog isn’t about email. Or texting. Or even using the phone. It’s about communication: the real kind, where we listen and talk and learn from each other.

I’ll admit it: I’ve been railing against email for a lot of years. When I was a school principal, I received anywhere from 150 to 250 emails a day. Many were cc’s—a way for teachers and staff to inform me without directly engaging me. Others included long strings of information, comments, and attempts at making decisions, reaching consensus, and moving forward. I remember sitting for hours each day, trying to catch up on goings on and reading impossible threads of writing, trying to connect and learn from them. It was difficult to distinguish the critical from the mildly important, and sometimes it all felt like so much white noise.

The email communication I found most disturbing was the kind where disagreements bubbled up and parties sparred to have the last word. Even when I would call one or the other writer on the phone and ask him or her to set up a meeting or discuss the issue in person or by phone, the email war would continue. Rather than work toward an authentic conversation where viewpoints are shared and decisions are made, my colleagues hid behind their computers and accomplished little.

Now, I am not immune to the tendency to put off meaningful communication. Something happened last week that gave me pause and prompted me to rethink my current communication tendencies. I was doing research for an article I was writing, and one of my to-dos was to call a retired colleague whose work on the project had preceded my own. For whatever reason, I kept putting off the call. With the article deadline fast approaching, I finally reached out by email to set up the call. Then I waited a few more days… but finally dialed.

He answered immediately, enthusiastically tackling the topic at hand. We talked for 30 minutes, sharing stories and catching up on life. He told me about the challenges he had faced when working on the project—motivating people to get on board. He shared the names of specific people and organizations that had been integral to the project’s success and talked about the importance of the information they had gathered. The call was more than successful: I got the information I needed, but more importantly I connected with him on a personal basis.

Toward the end of the phone call, I told him of our plans to recognize his contributions to the project at an annual gathering of professionals a month away. True to his nature, he stated that he was just one of many who had moved the project forward. He thanked me for thinking of him, and we agreed to a follow-up conversation when the presentation date got closer.

The next night, this leader in our field suffered a catastrophic medical event and, a week later, he was dead. During the week he was hospitalized, this phrase played over and over in my head: Pick up the phone.

We live in a time of transition. Those with years of experience are retiring. Those newer to the field are applying their fresh skills in ways that will improve services for all. It is critical to our future that we talk to one another, share our wisdom and unique experiences, make those connections, and capture that information in a place and time where it can be retrieved by others. Young or old, everyone has knowledge, perspectives, and experiences that, when shared, make us better as professionals and people. If you’ve been putting off contacting someone who will enrich your life, listen to the voice in your head. Pick up the phone. Make the call. Connect.

On Timing and Communication

One of the most valuable leadership stones I have received came from a direct supervisor. We were in the middle of a difficult transition in which a beloved leader who reported to me had moved on. There was much turmoil within the program he had left, and I was diligently working to connect with his colleagues in order to move forward collaboratively. I tried many forms of communication, including an open call-in time for anyone who wanted to share a perspective or complaint. I gathered a great deal of information from the group, formed an interview team, and wrote a job description. Once the position was posted, I waited.

 At this point, my supervisor shared his concern that I was not actively communicating with the department. That’s weird, I thought—I had been working busily behind the scenes to listen, communicate, form and execute a plan. Now that we were in a lull, advertising the position and waiting for candidates, I didn’t see much point in communicating. Nothing was happening, right? What would I say?

“Whenever there is a void in communication,” he stated, “people fill that void with their own impressions and thoughts, accurate or not.” Communicate something, he said, so that the group would understand that I was paying attention. Communicate something, even if I was communicating that we were in a holding pattern.

This conversation left a huge impression on me. One thing I had already learned: no matter how hard you try to communicate well, you will not get it right with every person. I had tried hard to be inclusive, to listen, to address issues and create a process that was exemplary. But I had failed to understand that communication is continuous-the stream must be steady, accurate, and relevant. It must be real, and it must be reassuring without being patronizing. Even when you’ve checked all these boxes, you must continue to communicate, again and again and again.

The ongoing nature of your communication as a leader is critical. One communication mantra that makes sense to me is this: Communicate seven times, in seven ways. And that means that communication needs to be on a leader’s to-do list, every day.

In Support of Journaling

During my 20+ years in leadership positions, I often found it challenging to step back and look at a situation with fresh eyes. Many times I would bring issues home, talking them through with my husband, and sometimes I would diagram or write out the complex mix of factors around an issue needing a decision. But I never developed a routine way of reflecting.