Thursday, October 26, 2017

Control or Influence---What Shall It Be?



Our lives are often spent trying to make our desires come out exactly as we want. A futile effort, especially since it may involve attempting to control others, an interaction or relationship dead-end. Yet there is nothing inherently wrong with trying to obtain an outcome in a conversation. Like conflict itself, persuasion is normal. Both can be carried out poorly or well.

None of us likes being controlled, and we resist the manipulation. In the post titled “What’s Wrong With ‘No Borders’”? I gave examples of devious methods boundary invaders use to control others, such as anger, guilt trips and a victim posture. Boundary invaders MUST HAVE their outcome, justifying repellant and counter-productive tactics. And adding to the unique interpersonal challenges around control, societal uncertainty pushes us all the more to get what we can from others.

You can easily spot a conversation controller. He asks no questions. If he does, the questions will be attacking and inquisitional, loudly voiced and often accompanied by sarcasm and anger. Having THE answers, what is there to know? Most often, though, the controller avoids questions and deluges his opponent non-stop with anything that will aid him to win, regardless of accuracy or relevance. A controller will concede nothing. There is no point, no matter how valid, that deserves anything other than attack. Counter-punching at its worst! But even without overt hostility, an adversarial, “I-win, you-lose” style means nothing positive will come from the exchange.

Although we might deny it, most of us at least occasionally act out the controller. We continue this in spite of the lousy outcomes until we learn there’s another way.

“Influence” conversations are very different, even though they arise out of the same conditions as adversarial ones---two people disagreeing about something, and each desiring something from the other. But with influence, there is no manipulation in which one party loses while the other gains. At least one of the parties recognizes the interpersonal dangers inherent in a difference of view. She changes how she interacts with the other, who is usually primed for a knock-down, drag-out match. She manages the interaction for the positive benefit of both, ensuring that her desire for a particular outcome does not depend on the other person losing something. Critically, she gives up the needs to win, change or punish the other person, all of which will produce resistance and hostility. In Zen terms, she is not attached to an outcome. She sees that if she wants to influence the other, she cannot pose a threat. Her actions will more likely be indirect than direct, including the removal of all unhelpful non-verbal cues.

A client who owned a number of businesses once told me about a potentially volatile interaction with a staff member who stormed into his office and angrily shouted, “What is this crap about transferring me to another department without even talking to me?” Instead of following the employee’s lead and starting a screaming match, my friend used influence. Anger or fear meant only bad outcomes, so control of his emotions and actions was vital. He remained seated, consciously removing all adverse non-verbal signals and adding only beneficial ones---he relaxed his body, softened his voice, and spoke normally but a little slower than usual. He calmly asked the employee to sit and tell him what was going on. Apparently expecting a battle and not getting one, the employee was a bit taken aback, a questioning look in his eyes. He sat down, but was on the edge of the chair and still visibly upset.

My friend asked again what was going on. The employee said that another employee told him about the intended transfer. After thanking the employee, which further calmed him, my friend told him that no such transfer was in the works. The employee sat back, embarrassed, and stumbled through an apology. A potentially unpleasant interaction was avoided. Once the employee’s issue was resolved, my friend did deal with the employee’s aggressiveness and anger.

My friend recognized immediately that the first thing he needed to do was assist the employee in calming, but he knew that saying something like, “Calm down” would only make things worse. Instead, he used non-verbal cues to signal receptivity and safety. At no point did my friend interrupt or try to counter the employee’s incorrect view. Beyond the calming his goal was to understand. Only then could he properly deal with the issue, in terms of both content and behavior. My friend wisely allowed the employee to get his story out and dealt with before bringing up his issue of how the employee initially addressed him.

Although this example occurred in the workplace, the same influence technique can be used at home with family or friends. Failure to control hidden agendas or strong emotions will be readily apparent to the spouse or life partner, and those will get all the focus. What is said is no longer part of the conversation, even if it looks like it on the surface. The interaction will be all about one person’s emotions overwhelming the other’s, a nasty but common occurrence.

There are critical influence lessons for all of us from this story, even if persuasion is not involved.
·       The first person to bring up an issue has the floor, with no interruptions, denials, or counter-punching.
·       The listener has the job of gaining clarity and understanding (not necessarily agreement), and only that.
·       The listener must maintain control of emotions and behavior, and be acutely aware of  non-verbal signals that can obstruct or enhance the conversation, choosing the helpful ones.
·       Understanding is best accomplished by fully attentive, non-judgmental listening, and by the use of carefully phrased, non-inquisitional, questions.
·       The listener must assist the speaker in reaching some resolution, if only partial or temporary, before bringing up his/her concerns, if any.
·       When it is the listener’s turn to raise a concern or issue, she must maintain the same non-attached, non-emotionally driven posture as when listening.

This post can be coupled with the recent one entitled “Conversations: Restrictive and Expansive,” offering a prescription for healthy conflict interactions.



Friday, October 13, 2017

Approaching Honesty



Approaching Honesty

In his beautiful (no other word describes it) book, Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words, the poet David Whyte examines a number of common words. He interprets and invigorates those words with a freshness, insight, and value that stirs the soul. His thoughts offer a new and unique sense of understanding the universe, our place in it, and how we can develop into higher quality individuals. He does not tell us what to do or not do. He instructs us indirectly, his wisdom all the more powerful for that. One of those words is Honesty, addressing it in part by looking at dishonesty .

From Whyte:  

Honesty is reached through the doorway of grief and loss. Where we cannot go in our mind, our memory, or our body is where we cannot be straight with another, or with our self. The fear of loss, in one form or another, is the motivator behind all conscious and unconscious dishonesties: all of us are afraid of loss, in all its forms, all of us, at times, are haunted or overwhelmed by the possibility of a disappearance, and all of us therefore, are one short step away from dishonesty. Every human being dwells intimately close to a door of revelation they are afraid to pass through. Honesty lies in our understanding our close and necessary relationship with not wanting to hear the truth.

The ability to speak the truth is as much the ability to describe what it is like to stand in trepidation at this door, as it is to actually go through it and become that beautifully honest spiritual warrior, equal to all circumstances, we would like to become. Honesty is not the revealing of some foundational truth that gives us power over life or another or even the self, but a robust incarnation into the unknown unfolding vulnerability of existence, where we acknowledge how powerless we feel, how little we actually know, how afraid we are of not knowing and how astonished we are by the generous measure of loss that is conferred upon even the most average life.

Honesty is grounded in humility and indeed in humiliation, and admitting exactly where we are powerless. Honesty is not found in revealing the truth, but in understanding how deeply afraid of it we are. To become honest is in effect to become fully and robustly incarnated into powerlessness. Honesty allows us to live without knowing. We do not know the full story, we do not know where we are in the story; we do not know who is at fault or who will carry the blame in the end. Honesty is not a weapon to keep loss and heartbreak at bay, honesty is the outer diagnostic of our ability to come to ground in reality, the hardest attainable ground of all, the place where we actually dwell, the living, breathing frontier where there is no realistic choice between gain or loss.

Whyte says that the root of all our dishonesties is fear of loss, of which we are seldom conscious. Were we to experience that fear for what it really is, we might be able to address our unconscious dishonesties. But they and the fear that spawned them remain conveniently  unknown to us, suppressed as Pandora’s box casts its frightening image. Denial of the fear and of the unconscious dishonesties takes enormous psychic energy, for which we and others pay a great price.

Once we understand that we are powerless, paradoxically we gain all the power for living as Whyte’s truly honest “spiritual warrior.” Once we give up the story that we are always honest, once we face the unconscious fear, complete honesty is in our lap.

“…honesty is the outer diagnostic of our ability to come to ground in reality, the hardest attainable ground of all….”