In work that I do with clients, the situations with the lowest return on time/energy (ROTE) consistently involve communications with those who don’t “get it.” “Getting it” and “not getting it” creates very strong in/out-group perceptions. “It” can take a number of different forms, and usually, I am on the outside looking in. I will hear, for example:
- THEY don’t get that a for-profit model can fit in health care.
- THEY don’t get that Canada is a different market from the U.S.
- THEY don’t get that they are losing the chance at more business down the road by being so contentious now.
My job is to help them to help the other side to “get it.” It can work, but not all the time. Recently, I fear, I was the one who was likely being accused of not “getting it,” which, honestly, is new for me. I actually pride myself on being able to see both sides of things, in most instances. As I understand, and tell my clients, when you are involved, things become less visible. On top of that, it can be completely unclear who is right.
For example, imagine those who did not want to give the automotive Big Three any U.S. Government funds.
For them, the situation is clear:
The Big Three (THEY) don’t get that the model is broken and more money is only prolonging their ultimate demise.
For those supporting a loan/bailout, it is equally clear:
The U.S. Gov (THEY) don’t get that we just need a bridge loan. Weather this storm, and we are set up for long-term success.
One of those positions is right, but only time will tell.
My recent challenge is bringing my “soft-skills” orientation into a “tech-savvy” environment in a discussion about creating value in information sharing and collaborating. Quite predictably, one of us is “not getting” that if and how people use any tool–not to mention the relationship between the parties–will dictate a large degree of effectiveness. Perhaps the other of us is “not getting” that in the future, personal relationships, perceptions and things like “the benefit of the doubt” have little or no role in the workplace.
One of those positions is right, but only time will tell.
There is no shortage of continuum-based models in business communication and negotiating. Although it is dangerous to oversimplify, I often force clients and students into binary decisions. One example from last fall was asking my class at Schulich Business School (during the current strike) whether they were sympathetic to the union or sympathetic to the school administration.
As an instructor/consultant, this creates better discussions because you can get away from the “it depends” that is necessarily pervasive in the domain of human behaviour. It also can get to the root of ideological divides (as people identify with different groups) and strategic trade-offs (where it really is this or that – e.g. sucking and blowing).The group identity idea made me think of a after-work beer-aided conversation I had with two of the three business partners that ran the company I was working for in Tokyo. I had just seen the movie “Lulu on the Bridge,” which is worth a watch.
In one scene, very recently acquainted Mira Sorvino and Harvey Keitel lounge in the morning (I won’t spoil it by telling you how they got there). She engages him in a game of “Are you this or that?” where you take turns asking the such questions. E.g. “Are you a river or an ocean?” Goofy, but cute, so I thought I’d throw it into our post-work drink banter.While Partner 1 pondered the decision, Partner 2 blurter out, “Come on, everyone would want to be an ocean.” In retrospect, that response actually told a lot about the personality at play. Not long after, that partnership dissolved. It was not over the river/ocean question, per se, but there was certainly something behind the metaphor in the differences of approach and vision.Sometimes there are “this and that” scenarios. It is natural to prefer one side to the other. I think. it’s dangerous to not acknowledge the other side.
Learning by doing is widely embraced as a driver of skill development. When I taught English in Japan, my objective was often to give people the tools, words, expressions, etc., that they needed to complete a “production” exercise (e.g having learned and practiced adverbs of frequency, students would create a weekly routine for, say, Paris Hilton when she is in jail. “Well she always checks the cutlery before she eats, she often asks for another blanket” and so on). Entertainment is never a small part of education.
Research suggests that when you are forced to “teach” something, your retention of that material increases dramatically over simply having to “do” something. (I would argue that my depth of comprehension of English jumped during my days of teaching it.) This is where the “reflective journal” fits into many skill development regimes and curricula. My MBA students have to keep a journal to share thoughts with me, or more specifically, show me where they are able to apply the learnings. The good ones could be used to teach others.
For example, in the course, we discuss acceptable alternatives (BATNAs, positions, et al) and the importance of thinking things through. My interactions earlier this month at Home Depot provide a good example of how this fits in the real world:
I bought a chandelier that had to be specially ordered. (”Special order” meaning, I think, items that had less than hotcake-like velocity in selling and therefor were stored elsewhere. Makes sense for the big box business model.) When I got the chandelier home, one of the glass fixtures was broken. Calling suggested that the only alternative was to take it back to the store to figure out what to do. I realized that my overriding objective was to make this trip to Home Depot my last for this particular transaction. (Note: This would be trip number 3, and still no chandelier.)
As a win-win guy, I ran through some possible scenarios. Maybe I return it; maybe they give me the glass bowl from the floor model (of which there was one); maybe they have some ideas that had not occurred to me. I was open to the discussion, but I also decided that I was not prepared to go back to the store again. Had I been passionately attached to the chandelier, my tune might have been quite different.
Not surprisingly, Plan A from HD Customer Service was “we’ll just order you another one; call in a week or 10 days and it should be here for you to pick up.” Sorry, three trips is my limit. A return should have involved a “restocking fee” (such are the rules for special order items), but this was quickly conceded, with a sigh that I suspect was intended to elicit guilt.
From a customer service perspective, I could not have been happier. I got what I wanted, which was to walk out of the store not needing to go back. From a negotiation perspective, there was a lost opportunity for customer services staff to keep the sale. Would it be possible to take an unbroken fixture off the floor model and send me on my way? I did not need to suggest it, so I didn’t. That may have been closer to a win-win, but in this situation, I am OK with win-lose as long as I am the former.
That may be lofty for the expectations of customer service staff at a big box store, but value has to come from anywhere you can get it, even if you are Home Depot. In this case, clarity of objectives on both sides, coupled with a solution-minded approach may have enabled value creation for everyone involved. That might not be too much to ask for/expect/instill in customer-facing staff in any business.
Post script: I ended up going to a local lighting store, who were able to arrange installation through an informal channel. This was one issue I hadn’t thought through. I can only imagine my experience in “learning by doing” a chandelier installation.
Type “Competition + Process Improvement” into the News section of your favourite search engine, and you will likely get a story (or a press release) that talks about a company overcoming new-millennium hyper-competition. The focus is on the solution (especially if you land in a press release), but one can imagine the work that goes into getting to solution. Not to mention, sustaining it. You may be living that “work” right now.
The classic problem-solving methodology is very straightforward: (1) identify the problem, (2) generate possible solutions, and (3) pick the best one. A prerequisite is to maintain a rational and objective focus, along the lines of “Getting-to-YES” style negotiating. Emotions cloud those operating “in the moment,” but in situations where parties (willingly or not) have to collaborate, distortion can come from many different – and surprising – places.
Rightly or wrongly, we have all pushed back (or been pushed) with a challenge to the legitimacy of our interests. Parents talk about “needing vs. wanting” ice cream after dinner (remember all those children that go to bed hungry); in the workplace, we ask people to separate “nice to have” from “need to have.” In all of this, the message is that “need” trumps “want,” which may cause some subtle limitations to successful results.
Too often, “need” identifies one potential solution (”We need a better inventory system”), while “want” can get to the root goal (”We want to remain competitive with as few changes as possible”). The wording and semantics may seem a better fit with strategic visioning than with everyday discussions, but think of the “want” behind some of these “need” statements:
- “We need more budget to do this project.”
- “We need to reduce head count.”
- “We need support from management/other divisions/the union.”
At the risk of treading into a discussion on inspirational leadership, visions talk about wants (or hope) that would offer almost-universal solutions. Each of our above “need” messages offers a solution that will become a problem for at least one other party:
- Extra dollars come from someone else’s budget;
- Head-count reduction hits “Joe Plumber” pretty hard, and
- Support takes other people’s time and energy.
The first thing to identify is a problem that we can all address. The corporate vision statement may do it, but the responsibility may fall to leaders and micro-leaders.
- “We want this company/unit to remain in business/this country.”
- “We want to reach a sustainable operating size.”
- “We want our company to be more responsive to external change.”
Far from being flowery, these may convey the real, wider-reaching need for change and improvement.With a recent MBA class of mine, the discussion focussed on an idealistic entrepreneur’s encounter with venture capitalists (from CBC’s Dragon’s Den). In the “identify the problem” stage, the initial class consensus was “she needs money,” (which, by the way, is the whole reason for going on the show in the first place, right?). I would (and did) argue that a focus on what you want to accomplish changes the discussion from “give me your money” to “do you want to help me do what I want to do?”
The difference can be very subtle, but can be extremely important. The latter offers more options, including, for example, referrals to other contacts or organizations if the dollar return happens not to be there. Money is one answer, and it may be the only one. You risk not finding out for sure unless you explain your vision. It is not simply a matter of substituting words (find and replace “need” for “want” won’t do it). Try switching the approach to the problem…from mine to ours. Some leaders/vision statements do it well; other times, those in the day-to-day discussion have to help identify shared problems.
This originally appeared in the October 2008 e-Newsletter for the Canadian Supply Chain Sector Council (www.supplychaincanada.org).
I was recently taking my negotiations class through the basics of Power (can someone make you do something?), Rights (am I allowed to do this?), and Interests (what do I want out of this?). In my presentation of the information, I was preoccupied with the previous days events. The issue that was on my mind was transportation in cities, specifically bicycling in Toronto.
When it comes to cars versus bicycles, there is not much confusion about who holds the power when the rubber hits the road…or the shoulder blade hits the sidewalk, which happened to be the case. In terms of rights, I think I had every right to be biking along side the snake of traffic that crawled south on Mount Pleasant last week. Although the conversation that I had that evening with one of Toronto’s finest suggested maybe I can’t pass cars on the right… Hmmm.
Like most of these situations, Interests are the highest leverage place to start. From the cyclist’s prospective, they enjoy physical exercise, dodging gas prices and parking rates, and all the other counter-culture benefits they seek. Stepping away from the issue, the ability for more people to bike in the city would reduce the number of cars on the street and the demand on downtown parking spots, both of which would be in the interest of drivers. It is a tough one but part of the solution will be convincing drivers that cyclists should be welcome on the streets, which means you have to look for them when you are making that last-minute right hand turn.
School is back in for lots of people, including, yours truly. Among my back-to-school activities was spending a day this week in the Schulich Centre for Teaching Excellence. It lived up to its name in providing a high bar, as well as insight, tools, resources and support to clear the bar. Following the “diversity” that underpins all aspects of the school, instructors are encouraged to meet/exceed expectations in any way they see fit.
Perhaps not surprisingly, there was lots of discussion on how to handle the use of laptops (the entire facility has wireless Internet access), and presumably other communication devices in the class. Just like the real world, there is no formal policy, and the guidance from experienced faculty covered the gamut, including one instructor who said that a full out ban was the best answer. Comparable rules in the workplace are not unheard of (e.g. hand over your device to the Blackberry Check before you enter the meeting… don’t lose that ticket!).
What to do?
For those of you taking my course this semester, here is what you can expect. In the spirit of “dialogue,” we will clarify expectations on both sides, and see if we can agree upon (negotiate) some behaviours that support meeting those expectations. I have no idea if it will work but I do have a strong BATNA. I would suggest that students show up with pens and paper just in case.
For those of you not taking the course, I will keep you posted on any agreement that we reach and detail it here, if possible. I am not expecting anything groundshaking, nor do I think this approach is extremely innovative. In most settings, I think that the behaviours and norms develop, but I hope this dialogue can clarify and accelerate a healthy balance while meeting needs and expectations of all parties. I know of some organizations that are starting to encourage these same dialogues.
Maybe we are onto something here.
I just got back from Japan.
Jet lag always gives me time to contemplate, and the near 180 degree nature of Tokyo/Toronto time zones usually guarantees at least two day/night reversals on either side of my trip. This very early August morning proves mornings are indeed shortening, at least until that wondrous day in October when “Fall back” gives a brief reprieve from wake-up darkness. Due to my recent travels, my contemplations turned to a discussion that I once had in a Japanese class around a newspaper article that proposed the introduction of “daylight savings” to Japan (”sunny time” as the article tagged the North American phenomena).
“People in Japan would never agree to ’sunny time’ because we work long enough as it is,” came my teacher’s summary. What on earth is the link between moving dawn until after 5AM and working even longer hours? After diligent effort and multiple paraphrasing to erase any doubt of a missed nuance, I grasped the link: There is an understanding in the Japanese workforce that you cannot leave work before dark. Darkness is by no means an indication that you can go home (or, more commonly, out for beers with your co-workers), but sunlight is not to be encountered on your homeward commute. My notion of “end of day” may also have slid because many of my “foreigner-friendly” jobs (i.e. teaching English, translating to English, etc.) had mid-morning start times.
That this conversation took place in a language class made it natural for me to suspect I was actually misunderstanding, which made me genuinely open to really understanding the core issue. I am not sure I would probed to the same extent had the conversation taken place in English (or had my Japanese been better!). What we had was a fundamental difference in beliefs. For me, daylight savings time could mean getting in a full-round of golf after work, or bike riding with the kids after dinner. To my Japanese teacher, and potentially to Japan’s average working Taro, the clock change was like watching the “fall back” time change while working the night shift… but for everyday of the summer!
Fundamental differences don’t fall easily, and that is exactly why daylight savings time will never be implemented in Japan. But given the absence of evidence the change breeds the promised energy efficiency, is Japan really worse off?
Fundamental differences are at the heart of the proposal to limit a physicians rights to exercise moral judgement in delivering medical care. Some life and death issues (beginning and end) cannot be driven by science and rationality, but instead fall prey to fundamental beliefs (aka: morals) that may conflict with legislation. When this is the case, and when operating within the laws of the land, it is most realistic to have patients find doctors who share (or at least don’t oppose) the fundamental belief in question. The trade off should be seeing that doctor OR getting the medical treatment in question.
NOTE: The case may be different in rural areas where the supply and demand dynamics are different.
If you really like daylight savings time, you shouldn’t live in Japan. Conversely, if you really like Japan, you had better be flexible about Springing ahead and Falling back. No one can have both. Patients are not different.
This trilogy started with a discussion of three books, the last of which is Getting to Maybe, co-authored by Frances Westley, Brenda Zimmerman and Michael Quinn Patton. The subtitle for the book is “How the World is Changed,” which carries interesting ambiguity: does this refer to “how changes happen in the world” or to recent trends that have changed the world? It doesn’t really matter.
In my understanding, “Getting to Maybe” entails prolonging the discussion. The emergence of a “yes” or a “no” indicates are hard stop or start in direction. Some examples of conversation endpoints are:
- “No, we are not going to pursue this partnership,”
- “Yes, we need to develop a new offering,” and
- “Yes we need growth, but, no, your ideas for growth are beyond our capabilities.”
Depending on who is involved and how those individuals operate, the time involved to reach these end-points could be minutes or months. A “maybe” is not an end, it is a continuation, extension, or hiatus. There is an understanding–on both sides–that the dialogue will continue or resume.
Recently ending a lengthy run for the development of 3Ms “Post-it” as the most overused business cliche is the Google 20 per cent rule, whereby employees must devote one day a week to unrelated projects. This could easily be termed “maybe time,” which would allow those bringing forward the above ideas to:
- Continue exploring future possibilities for “this partnership” to take shape;
- Tinker with the current offerings to recreate relevance with an existing market segment; and
- Examine the fluidity of our capabilities to explore novel growth strategies.
The power of “maybe” is in accepting that no one knows for sure. Decisiveness is necessary, but can at times be limiting. There are times when keeping too many options open becomes counter productive. Given the speed at which things change, one might expect an increased need for decision. I would argue that with the state of constant flux, some things may benefit from being able to simmer for a little while. Maybe time let’s these things ripen… or rot.
I have run into friends and colleagues whose strongest motivation was to combat a perception that he or she “couldn’t” do something. Maybe time legitimizes a pursuit that would either be done “underground” or would be a nagging “shoulda” when things inevitably turn south. Passionate and motivated employees will likely make their own maybe time, but will appreciate having it included among official activities.
To “get to maybe” also demands those in authority (formal or informal) to recognize and pull back from “gut feeling” decisions, when maybe is a viable option. Backing up from a knee-jerk decision takes self awareness or deft positioning of the “maybe” or both in order to further the dialogue.
No matter who is working together, the right ideas can emerge if information flows well. At different stages “Yes,” “No” and “Maybe” from all sides of the interaction can support that information flow. Go ahead, call me naive.
August Busch IV said “While the process was at times difficult for all parties, in the end, the right outcome happened for everyone” as comment on the recent acquisition of his family’s company by InBev. I would love to have a glimpse into some of those “difficult” discussions and if there were any personal bests set in depths of facial redness or heights of blood pressure readings.
There will certainly be opposition from other areas, as well. From a business perspective, the deal appears to be solid, as indicated in a description of the Wall Street Journal account of the deal, but will no doubt face opposition when the potential efficiencies start to be realized and, as Tom Pirko of Bevmark consulting says here the company is forced to behave like other global companies in pushing workers and suppliers to market levels. Busch’s “everyone” likely does not include suppliers of hops and electricity that will bear the brunt of increased “buyer power” from this new entity.
Can we assume that this is an objectively good deal?
If so, all parties, including workforce and suppliers, should be content: benefits are reasonable, and any heartache was eventual. The dollar figure ($70/share or $52 billion) gets a lot of attention, but as always there is much more to the deal than the price. I am intrigued by the decision to rename InBev to include the legacy of the Busch family. “Anheuser-Busch” is much more recognizable, I have to assume, to Bud drinkers than “InBev” is to those imbibing Stella-Artois, let alone any Labatt product.
Perhaps we will never know what it was that tipped the scale on this negotiation, but if August Busch IV was able to move the company into the future more easily given that the family name will live on, more power to him and to those who were at the table to close the deal.
This is obviously not all about ego and family legacy. Busch et al have two seats on the Board, and InBev will be able to benefit from this hands-on experience in further exploring the US market, as well as bringing Bud products to the rest of the world. It is fascinating, however, to see the subtle indications of what were obviously emotionally heated discussions. I am not surprised that a couple of cold ones were cracked at the end of it all. Well deserved!
My take on William Ury’s “The Power of the Positive No” (follow-on to “Getting to Yes”) is that clarity on what we don’t want helps refine what we do want. There in lies the “Positive No.”
It can take some thinking to get to what is the No and what is the Yes. David Cameron, the U.K.’s leader of the opposition, didn’t mince words this week in saying No to a society with diminished personal responsibility, and Yes to one with more personal accountability. Bold words for a politician, but any individual’s “ideal” will have a strong degree of good-old human judgment of “this beating that.”
Some of the No assertions are tough to make because they expose our values. In school I had to say “No” to a fellow student who wanted to repurpose an assignment a friend had used in the same class the previous term. The difference in orientation came down to our respective Yes and No statements.
- Me: Yes to learning by doing, and No to taking someone else’s work.
- My Classmate: Yes to efficient use of available information, and No to reinventing the wheel unnecessarily.
A thousand personal beliefs, experiences and orientations inform my and my classmate’s position. It is almost pointless to argue who is right because it comes down to conflicting emotional judgments that could stem from “fear of getting caught,” “pride in own work,” etc.
Being aware of our ideal is important; how open you are about it is another matter. Declaring these ideals really does put you “out there,” and it is tough to keep control of a conversation or exchange that touches these. That said, whether it is No to being underemployed, No to being micro-managed, or No to imbalance in life, sometimes the buck actually stops. In my working history, it has always (eventually) felt good/paid off to stick to real Nos. (All due respect to my time-starved classmate!)
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