ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Al Switzler is author of three bestselling books, Influencer, Crucial Conversations, and Crucial Confrontations.

Dear Crucial Skills,

I just read Crucial Confrontations and realized the issue I need to confront someone about has already happened enough times to affect our relationship, but I have not had the earlier confrontations regarding content and pattern. How do I begin the confrontation at the stage where the issue is now affecting the relationship, but the prior confrontations did not occur?

Signed,
Late Confrontations

Dear Late Confrontations,

In the book, we use the acronym CPR (Content, Pattern, Relationship) to identify what issue you need to address. We used to chuckle that with CPR you could breathe life into a failing relationship. I think this is still true.

Now for a little background before I get to your specific question.

The essential principle for using CPR is to address the right issue. We’ve written before in this newsletter that you can talk yourself blue in the face about the wrong issue and not make any progress. So what is the problem? When deciding what issue to address, people often choose simple instead of complex, incident instead of pattern, or easy instead of hard, and so on. When the real issue is not addressed, the problem is unresolved and festers or explodes.

Your concern about where to begin with a relationship issue is spot on. Relationship issues happen in a couple of ways. First, as you note, we sometimes don’t speak up at the content level (the first time) and we don’t speak up when it has become a pattern. A training participant once helped me define these terms by noting that the first time is an incident, the second may be a coincidence, and the third (or more) is a pattern. So by ignoring or delaying, when we are finally motivated to speak up, we have a relationship problem. For example, someone who works for you is twenty minutes late to work: content (an incident). He has been late three times this week: pattern. The consequences are probably more severe. If you haven’t spoken up to this point, the issue will invariably become a trust issue: relationship.

Now to address your question specifically:

Point 1. There are benefits of addressing gaps or issues early at the content level. The consequences to everyone involved are probably less severe. The emotions are more controlled. And, by bringing up an issue early on, you show that your motives are to understand and help solve the problem, not to play “gotcha” or to engage a guilt trip.

Point 2. If you have not spoken up to this point, you need to address the real issue—how his pattern of tardiness is causing you to not trust that when he makes a commitment he will keep it. That is the right issue and that’s what you should start with. You don’t have to go through all the CPR steps.

A bit of advice here: Remember STATE skills when you do speak up. Begin with the facts. For example: “We reviewed the fact that you start work at 8:00 a.m. and you have been at least twenty minutes late the last three days.” Now tentatively share your story, “I’m beginning to wonder if I can trust you to come to work on time and to keep the commitments you make.” In summary, start at the level you need to address the real issue.

Point 3. Some issues start at the relationship level and that’s where you need to start. Issues such as abuse, theft, safety, and dishonesty affect relationships right from the beginning. That is the issue you should bring up. Do so in a safe way. Describe the gap and then diagnose. Don’t immediately threaten imposed consequences. Don’t become part of the problem by screaming or belittling. But take action. Behaviors that are abusive, unsafe, unethical, or illegal have immediate, potentially severe consequences to many other people. Handling them professionally and quickly is not only very symbolic, but is also necessary because of the potential consequences to others.

Best Wishes,
Al Switzler

Al Switzler Crucial Confrontations

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kerry Pattersons author of three bestselling books, Influencer, Crucial Conversations, and Crucial Confrontations.

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I’m not sure how old I was when my mom taught me how to find wild mushrooms. I know she held my hand as we walked into the woods that day. I can still feel the warm touch of her delicate fingers. That would put me at around seven years of age. Any older than that I would have stopped holding hands because, according to my older brother, it wasn’t “cool.” What a shame.

It was springtime in Bellingham, Washington and if you knew where and how to search you could find delicious edible mushrooms in the woods behind our home. However, as Mom soon taught me, it took some first-class hunting. (Toadstools were easy to find, but they would kill you.)

After trekking through the woods for nearly an hour Mom eventually dropped five mushrooms into our brown paper bag. I had found one. We eagerly took our bounty home where Mom quickly fried it and popped the tender morsels into an omelet. This ritual went on for a couple of weeks—the two of us searching hand-in-hand and eventually returning with a half dozen or so mushrooms.

Then one Saturday morning my world changed. Driven by some genetic, time-released code hidden deep inside my cells, I sprung to my feet, grabbed a brown paper bag, and went in search of the fungi on my own. I still remember how frightened I was as I walked into the thick, dark woods behind our house. I hadn’t read about the “wild things” that lived there (the book wouldn’t come out for another decade), but I certainly had heard their occasional growls and howls. I had even seen their tracks. Plus my older brother had filled my head with tales of moose, cougars, and bears (Oh my!) that routinely mauled anyone who dared enter their domain. And I was about to enter their domain.

The prospect of being gutted by a beast frightened me right down to my socks, but it wasn’t enough to keep me home. Not that day. My desire to prove my mettle outweighed the fear that normally kept me close to home. It was my time to step up to the table. It was my time to provide for the table. So, I plunged into the darkness, eyes pinned to the forest floor—dead set on bringing home the bacon.

It was hard work finding mushrooms that day. The woods were wet from an overnight rain; the underbrush scratched my arms, burrs stuck to my pant legs and socks, and stinger nettles rubbed against my exposed neck and ankles—leaving behind tiny mountain ranges of welts. All the while, the mushrooms hid. They were masters of camouflage. With no effort whatsoever, they magically disappeared into the forest floor—nature’s Waldos—perfectly blending into the background.

After over an hour of fungi-less searching, and just before I trudged home in utter defeat, I eventually stumbled into a small grove that offered the first mushroom of the day. As I bent down to gather it up, there next to it I saw another—and then another. Startled by the find, I jumped to my feet, gave my eyes a second to adjust to the diminished light, and there, peeking their heads through the loam and leaves, I spotted dozens of edible delights. I’ll never forget that glorious moment. I had stumbled on the mother lode of mushrooms. I would return home the victor.

I soon gathered up every single fungal gem and dashed home with my brown paper bag filled to the top. (These were the honeycomb variety of mushroom and as such, easy to spot—so I wasn’t running the risk of bringing home deadly toadstools.) Mom beamed with delight when she saw what I was carrying. My brother gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Dad slapped me on the back, carefully inspected my bounty, washed it, and fried the lot in butter. Then the four of us sat down at the family table and feasted on a delicious breakfast that I, a seven-year-old boy, had hunted and gathered all by myself.

Some kids go through a formal rite of passage into manhood. They do it at church or during a tribal ceremony or maybe even at home when Dad tosses them the keys to the car or their first laptop computer. Not with me. I was only seven that day I brought home the mushrooms—about half the age most people think it takes to spring into manhood. But for me, I’m pretty sure I made part of the leap right then and there. After all, as everyone could plainly see, I was now a member of the select group of people that helped feed our family.

And feed our family I did. From mushroom gathering I soon graduated to berry picking, clam digging, and fishing. We were dirt poor during my childhood years, but we always ate well. Imagine a dinner comprised of wild mushrooms, butter clams, trout, and hot blackberry pie. It’s the kind of fare they serve at a fancy restaurant nowadays. We Pattersons ate such stuff because it was free and, more often than not, I had brought it home.

I hadn’t thought about this part of my life until last week when two of my granddaughters invited me to a fashion show. At age nine, the two of them had taken a sewing class from one of our neighbors and now they were going to model the blouse and skirt each of them had made. They had picked the patterns, selected the material, and after hours of work and meticulous care had sewn an outfit that they’d soon be wearing to school.

As each granddaughter paraded around the church auditorium cum runway, I nearly burst with pride. Imagine that, making their own clothes—and only in the second grade! Later that evening as we talked, each child stood confidently wrapped in clothes of her own making. As I looked closely into their eyes I could tell that both girls had changed. I had seen them perform ballet, gymnastics, cheer leading, piano, violin—you name it—they had taken the lessons and performed at the recitals. But this was different. They were different.

Most lessons are about improving yourself, performing, and then taking a bow. And while I believe in such personal training and the skills, confidence, and discipline it develops, it’s not the same as producing something the family can use. It’s not the same as adding to the country’s gross national product. It’s not the same as picking mushrooms or sewing your own clothes. Do that, and you’re part of the group that feeds and clothes your family. Do that, and you change.

I suddenly saw the value of teaching children and grandchildren (while they’re still young) ways to help feed and clothe the family as well as how to care for the home. Perhaps you think I’m grasping at straws, but I think the difference between performing and providing, although subtle, is substantial. Praising a kid for taking three minutes to draw a crayon picture is one thing. Praising a child for bringing home the bacon is something both memorable and worth shouting about.

And now for the organizational take away. Within companies we often put people through training and other educational experiences that help them improve in some way. But we don’t always teach what it takes to “put food on the table.” That’s because we don’t take the time to identify and teach skills that can make a difference to the bottom line. We’re driven by catalogues and what’s currently popular or even what’s politically safe more than we’re driven by our actual needs. Besides, it’s hard to discover what you really need. It can take real research. You have to talk about problems. And that can be awkward.

In a similar vein, we only rarely teach complex interpersonal skills (skills that can affect the bottom line) because it can be difficult. People don’t follow rote paths. You have to be prepared for all kinds of different responses, and who wants to do that? We don’t practice until we’re competent and confident because that can be repetitive and require touchy feedback. In short, we frequently avoid the nettles, burrs, and bears (Oh my!) and do what’s easy and comfortable instead. We walk to where it’s safe, light, and comfortable, not where we need to go to find the mushrooms. Then, of course, we come home un-scraped, un-prickled, un-stung, and empty handed.

But that’s okay. Because in today’s world we’re likely to get a high-five and a rowdy cheer—just for trying.

I, on the other hand, want the mushrooms.

Kerry Patterson Kerrying On

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ron McMillan is author of three bestselling books, Influencer, Crucial Conversations, and Crucial Confrontations.

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Dear Crucial Skills,

I am writing to request a little verification about feelings. In a previous column, Ron suggested that one way to phrase the interpretation of what happened was as follows: “I felt insulted, disrespected, and falsely accused.”

My question is this: Feeling insulted or disrespected is creating a story of the speaker’s intentions, right? They are not feelings, but rather thoughts. I am wondering if the interpretation would rather be “I consider the words you chose to be insulting and disrespectful.” I am really interested in your thoughts about this topic.

Thanks,
Thinking Feelings

Dear Thinking Feelings,

What a great question!

Let me begin with a description of the skill you are referring to. When sharing meaning with others—especially when there’s a high likelihood of a defensive or emotional response—it’s best to state the facts first.

Don’t begin with an accusation: “You liar!” In our research, we found that beginning a crucial conversation with an accusation creates defensiveness (duh). Don’t begin with an “I” statement of emotion: “I am so disappointed in you.” That creates as much defensiveness as an accusation. Rather, begin by factually reporting what occurred—report behavior, details, and numbers. Do not begin with assumptions, conclusions, or judgments. For example: “In the meeting, you said that my team didn’t pull its weight on the last project.” It is a fact that the other person made that comment. Because facts are verifiable, observable, and measurable, they tend to create understanding and agreement.

After stating the facts, tell your story. Based on these facts, what are your tentative conclusions? How are you interpreting these facts? What do you think they mean? These conclusions, assumptions, and attributions are your stories. They are your creation. Many different stories could be created using the same set of facts. By sharing your story, you are enlarging the meaning available to others. You are disclosing how you regard the facts, as well as the meaning you’ve created. If relevant, share the feelings you have about your story. Certainly your feelings are relevant if the relationship is an important element of the issue being discussed. If you are discussing a tough issue with your spouse, emotions are not only relevant, they are important for your spouse to know. However, if you are discussing the best solution to a technical problem with your teammates at work, discussions of emotions are most likely inappropriate and unnecessary.

After tentatively stating the facts and telling your story, ask others how they see it. Now it’s your turn to listen. Your goal is to create dialogue and to expand the pool of shared meaning. By sharing your facts and stories, and asking for theirs, a lot of meaning is revealed in an efficient and effective way.

Back to your question. In my previous column, I suggested to the reader that she begin her crucial conversation by stating the facts. I next recommended that she say “I felt insulted, disrespected, and falsely accused” as a way of telling her story. In this example I used the language of emotion (“I felt….”) to tell my story. In this case, feelings are relevant because the crucial conversation is about the relationship between coworkers and a boss, and specifically about respect and fairness.

In my recommendation, I used shorthand to combine a statement about both the stories and emotions. Upon reflection, I think this is probably a lazy strategy. I agree with your observation. Your suggestion would improve my recommendation. You recommended saying “I consider the words you chose to be insulting and disrespectful!” This statement reports her story as a conclusion, not an emotion. She could stop there and ask her boss if that was the intention; or, another option would be to also report her feelings. “I feel angry and frustrated” then ask for their point of view: “Do you see it differently?” Or ask “Is this what you intended?”

All in all, good catch. You improved on my suggestion. I vow in future columns I will not stoop to lazy, short-hand phrases if you promise to keep thinking deeply about what you’re reading and send me your thoughts and questions.

Best,
Ron

Ron McMillan Crucial Conversations

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Joseph Grenny is author of three bestselling books, Influencer, Crucial Conversations, and Crucial Confrontations.

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Dear Crucial Skills,

I read your survey results on long-distance loathing with great interest. I work for a multi-site corporation and approximately two-thirds of our staff are in one city while the rest are dispersed over five smaller sites. Despite significant efforts to bring our teams together, there is still a strong sense of us and them. Can you recommend any strategies to make long-distance working relationships more cohesive?

Teamwork at a Distance

Dear Teamwork,

Yes! There is a great deal you can do to build teamwork among widely dispersed people. A good way to begin organizing your change effort is to think about all the sources of influence that create conflict and alienation in your current environment.

So first you need to ask, “What can I do to increase conflict?”

It turns out you can get almost any two people to resent each other if you do a number of things:

• Give them a separate identity or goals.
• Make it difficult for them to communicate.
• Have them associate with a social group that already resents the others.
• Make it difficult for them to help each other or limit their communication to official channels by imposing a chain of command.
• Reward them for individual achievements or for supporting those in their geography but not the larger team.
• Keep them physically isolated—allow few means for them to communicate and then only in sterile ways (voice only, e-mail, etc.)

Now, if you’ve read our book, Influencer: The Power to Change Anything, you’ll notice I’ve just outlined six unique sources of influence. I’ve also described reality for most dispersed teams. And finally, what I’ve done is describe a set of influences that will make it inevitable that individuals will, at best, tolerate those in other locations and at worst despise them.

Now some readers might think “inevitable” is too strong a word. But take a look at the findings from our recent Long Distance Loathing study:

• Employees are 243 percent more likely to have problems with distant coworkers than co-located coworkers.
• Employees report that these problems are much more difficult to solve and last much longer.
• In order to cope with annoying distant coworkers rather than step up to crucial conversations they resorted to the following tactics when working with these colleagues: avoided their phone calls, stopped reading their e-mails, avoided working with them altogether, witheld information from them, criticized them to others, and challenged their decisions.

So, what can a leader do? Well, if the six sources of influence I already outlined are the reason for the resentment, then distance doesn’t make conflict inevitable. Distance is only one source of influence. You’ve got five other sources you can use to create a cohesive team. However, it will require work. It will require intentional effort. But what human change doesn’t?

Here are a few examples for using multiple sources of influence:

Source 1: Personal Motivation—Make a greater effort than usual to create team identity and purpose. Have a mission, charter, and operating rules. Have a team name. If possible, have periodic face-to-face meetings. Take extra care as new members join the team. Create as much face time as possible so people connect at a human level, not just a task level.

Source 2: Personal Ability—Build much better crucial conversations skills. This isn’t just a self-serving argument—it is an essential skill-set for ensuring people don’t resort to the dysfunctional games we describe above.

Sources 3 & 4: Social Motivation and Ability—bWork to build bonds of friendship and trust. Begin meetings by having one or more people share a personal anecdote. Have the team work together on volunteer tasks, personal betterment tasks, etc. For example, have them raise money for United Way as a team, run races in their communities, or come together to build a Habitat for Humanity home.
Have team members from different locales meet together at client sites or work together on the same client’s projects.

Set the norm that everyone holds everyone accountable—you can’t afford to involve a manager.

Schedule frequent, formal feedback sessions—times when you specifically ask about what’s working and what’s not. When you have a concern, talk it out—don’t act it out.

Source 5: Structural Motivation—Use small prizes or awards—maybe competitions—that provide the occasion for recognition. Distance often removes informal opportunities to say “thanks.” Make sure you frequently let people know you are aware of their contribution and appreciate their work.

Source 6: Structural Ability—Provide daily or weekly progress on key business indicators that track the team’s performance.
Make sure people have visual reminders of their team members—photos that are near their phones or computers.

Create a Web site, Facebook page, or other social networking hub for sharing information. Stay on top of technical barriers—for example, often small changes to the organization’s network will deny access to remote workers.

If possible, have a physical “teaming space” where team members can meet. You may also have shared workspaces where people can set up temporary offices for more intensive face-to-face interactions.

Ask team members to define their core work hours—to build in some predictability as they attempt to contact each other.

Bottom line: If you systematically and intentionally counter the sources of influence that create conflict, you’ll inevitably see cooperation. Conflict is not the natural human condition. We are social creatures at the level of our DNA. All that’s needed is wise leadership to bring out the best and truest parts of our nature!

Good luck,
Joseph

Joseph Grenny Influencer