I've had a day now to get over the emotional impact of the latest in my Disappointing Lack Of Customer Service experiences.
I've already decided to call it the Ace Hardware 'Unhappy Birthday To You' Gift Card Incident.
I'm still feeling the disbelief, confusion, the insult, and the -- no other word for it -- humiliation.
I'm sure that someday I will shop at Ace again. In fact, I'm morally obligated to now, for reasons you'll soon learn. But will shopping there ever be the same? I doubt it. I'm now a dissatisfied customer, and it's going to be extremely hard to re-satisfy me.
But worse still, I'm that Internet Age phenomenon that any retail establishment dreads the most: a dissatisfied customer using social media, putting the company name out there in a negative light for all search engines to find.
It all started (cue flashback music) a week or so ago when an Ace Birthday Gift Card arrived in the mail. How very nice, I thought. This is a great marketing initiative to get existing customers back into the store and reinforce their repeat shopper status.
What -- doesn't everyone think like that? Oh wait, I guess I should explain for those new to this blog that I have spent years designing sales training and customer service training programs, as well as training programs that support marketing campaigns. So I guess when I get a gift card in the mail, I do react a little more analytically than the average consumer.
But when it comes to redeeming that card, I am every inch the penny-pinching female head of household that Ace thinks I am. And Ace has been doing its research.
Besides just winning a top industry customer satisfaction award (see this recent news article), Ace has really been trying to innovate and grow their appeal to women (for an example, see this recent news article). I do appreciate the way my local Costello Ace Hardware in Levittown hosted a Ladies' Night last fall. I shop at Ace because I get a totally different feeling than when I shop at Home Depot. I like the scale of the store -- cozier, not cavernous -- and I like the knowledgeable people who can explain DIY stuff to me without making me feel stupid. They really ARE helpful hardware folks.
At least that's what I thought till yesterday.
Oops, we've somehow gotten out of flashback mode. Sorry. To return to my story (cue music again): the gift card offered $10 off a $35 purchase if redeemed in my birthday month (July). What made it even better was that I already had a $5 Customer Loyalty card from a previous shopping trip. So I, ever thrifty, made a list and hit the Levittown location yesterday morning. I roamed the well-proportioned and uncluttered aisles with my perfectly-sized, not too gigantic, female-friendly shopping cart. I appreciated the nicely-organized displays which made me feel empowered, not assaulted. I made my selections, carefully counting their cumulative cost to make sure it was over $35.00.
I then took my seven assorted items to the check-out counter, happy with my deals and my double-whammy discount.
That's when it got kinda weird.
First of all, Deadpan Girl was my cashier. I wish I had caught her name to add it to this narrative, but truthfully she acted nameless. As she beeped my UPC codes, I brightly looked for some kind of an emotional connection that would match my happy in-store experience so far. Nada. She was that clone we all get from time to time, that young bored thing who, if not actually chewing gum and rolling eyes, gives one that distinct impression. I might as well have had an emoticon ring me up.
Pulled down a notch from my hardware nirvana state, I stolidly waxed businesslike and pointed out to her that I had these two discount cards I was using today. She received them with an expression that looked like " :[ " . They got beeped, my stuff got bagged, and my credit card got scanned. I could have been at a self-serve checkout for all the inhuman lack of interaction that took place.
Then I looked at my receipt. I noticed that the $5.00 from my Customer Loyalty card had been subtracted from the total in eye-catching red ink, but there was no corresponding $10.00 subtraction from my Birthday Gift Card. Double-take. Nope, not there. Deadpan Girl was waiting for me to leave. "I don't think the $10.00 was taken off," I told her, handing her the receipt. She scanned it with this expression: " :* " . "I'll have to add it up," she said, and made a feeble, 10-second attempt to do so. "I can't do this," she informed Clone # 2, the other checkout cashier, and turned away from me to flag down a man wearing a white Ace manager's shirt.
Manager Man came up, looked at the receipt, and turned to me without a greeting. "It took the coupon, because see here at the bottom, it says, 'You Saved $15.00 Today," he told me, pointing to a legend emblazoned at the bottom of the receipt. "That's the $5.00 for one card, and the $10.00 for your other card. They both got scanned."
Disoriented by now, off-balance, and feeling vaguely like I was being accused of being an idiot, I thanked them both -- for what, I don't know. Then I took my bags of stuff and my receipt and beat it outta there.
I got as far as the lawn furniture display in the entryway, and stopped. I looked at the receipt again. I may not be the best at numbers, but that total was still too high to have had a $10.00 chunk taken out of it. I sat down on a demo patio loveseat, took out a pen and pad from my pocketbook, wrote down the prices, and added up the receipt -- twice. Then I swept back into the store and approached Manager Man.
"Please add this up again. It doesn't seem right," I said. "I don't think my Birthday card actually took. Which doesn't make it a very happy birthday," I joked, trying to give Manager Man a little window of levity through which he could attempt to do relationship repair. He didn't jump at the chance. Sighing, he took the receipt again and stared at it. No other communication came from him for about 30 seconds.
I persevered. "Maybe since the total went below $35.00 when the other card was used, the Birthday card discount didn't qualify...?" I prompted, trying to sound like I was somewhat savvy and understood that this was a reasonable hypothesis that might indeed happen sometimes when two different types of pricing discounts battled it out inside the hard-coded logic of a point-of-sale computer system.
Manager Man gruffed out a grufflike sound. Still not looking at me -- I don't think he ever looked directly at me -- he said, "Well, some of what you bought was on sale, and the offer is good for regular-priced merchandise only."
"Oh!" I sputtered, now understanding that I was being accused of being, not a mere idiot, but a criminal. I was trying to scam Ace out of $10.00 worth of already-low, sale-priced pricing.
What did I want, for them to just give me the whole store? Who did I think I was, trying to pull off a con game on their computer? Didn't I know that they would catch me red-handed in the end?
"I didn't realize it only applied to regular prices," I said lamely.
Manager Man didn't respond.
"I would have liked the cashier to tell me that... before she took my card... and now it's no good," I went on, in the same mystified tone of voice that I used some years ago after seeing The Lake House, when my friend and I were walking out of the movie theater, trying to reconstruct what had happened in the final scene and why Sandra Bullock couldn't have warned Keanu Reeves earlier about the car accident. (By the way: NEVER rent The Lake House.)
"Oh, we'll give you your card back," Manager Man said, making it sound sinister. He turned to Deadpan Girl. "You got your cards?" She fished in her drawer and gave him a rubber-banded stack of cards. He thumbed through them and found mine. Then he drew an X through her cross-off and made a cryptic notation with his marker before wordlessly handing it back to me.
I looked at my mangled Happy Birthday Gift Card. "So I guess I can use this again if I come back to this store?" I asked, again attempting to help him finish the story and deliver some vestige of customer service, instead of forcing the customer to deliver it to herself.
"Yes," he said.
I had a pen, too. "So you're name's Andy?" I had noticed his name tag, finally. I started to write his name on the card.
"My initials are on there," Andy said, not quite surly, but close, as he indicated the ambiguous scrawl he had just made. He apparently thought I was being a drama queen at this point.
"Okay!" I crumbled under his self-righteous demeanor. "Well, thanks!" And I stuffed the receipt and the card into my wallet, thinking, I NEVER WANT TO COME HERE AGAIN.
But I will. Oh, I will. Exactly one more time.
And I will find $35.00 worth of regular-priced merchandise to buy. Heaven knows, my house is falling apart, and it probably needs $3500 worth of stuff from Ace Hardware. But I will perambulate my shopping cart around Levittown Ace Hardware's carefully curated displays, calculator in hand, and I will find exactly $35.00 worth of anything I need that's not on sale.
Then I will go to the checkout and dare Deadpan Girl and Manager Man to just try and keep me from having a Gosh Darn Happy Birthday.
Helpful Hardware Folks, maybe. Helpful Cash Register Transaction Folks, not so much.
Moral of the story:
Retailers and other service industries: does your floor staff have the tools and training they need to:
- figure out and apply your company's promotions;
- decipher your point-of-sale system's messaging;
- do basic math, when necessary, to check the system's pricing?
More importantly, are they adequately trained and incentivized to give great customer service, every time?
Because messy blog posts like this can happen as a result of that one time that they don't.
Are your client-facing people authorized to do service recovery -- and are they required to do it with an apology, and a smile?
I swear to you, even with all the other bungling, if I had gotten either one of those, Ace Hardware, I would not be writing this now.
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Sunday, April 13, 2014
The Easiest Way To Diagnose Performance Issues
Note: This is a continuation of an earlier post on this blog, The 3 Things You Need To Maximize Employee Performance.
This clump of daffodils is the only bright spot in my back yard today. Bright spots are rare in this early spring on Long Island, especially after the brutal winter we just experienced.
"Bright spots" is also a term used in the book Switch by Chip and Dan Heath to describe a simple way to identify practical process improvements within a complex system. In regards to workplace performance improvement, finding the bright spots -- finding the exceptional employees who are excelling at a task -- can be the gateway to lifting performance as a whole.
In a previous post (see above), I mentioned that as a corporate trainer, I love training, but it's not always the solution. Training can solve a skills gap or a knowledge gap. That's about it.
In many organizations, the way to performance improvement is always:
The Make Them DO Better Approach
As I'll explain in a minute, that's a fallacy-prone strategy. Instead, Chip and Dan Heath say it's smarter and more efficient to use the opposite approach, or, as I would call it:
The Take Them TO Better Approach
In one case example of the bright spots principle, Chip and Dan Heath cite how infant survival rates in postwar Vietnam were radically increased by discovering, then adopting, two simple nutritional differences that a small minority of village mothers had adopted, almost by accident, in their quest for improving their babies' diet.
This concept of finding and studying bright spots is elegant because it identifies readily-employable solutions that are already in play within the arena of activity and thus ripe for broader adoption. Instead of low-hanging fruit, think high-poking daffodils. They're there, they're thriving, and their very existence means two things:
1. Success is possible within the current system;
2. Under the right conditions, there could be more.
Most performance measurements focus on one problem metric: the number of service complaints, or the number of system failures, or the number of errors that required reprocessing, to name some examples. These measurements fail to shed much light on the whole picture, which is probably filled with problem-riddled scenarios, variables, and bottlenecks. It would cost way too much time and energy to produce a breakdown of all the various ways things are breaking down -- and if such a study could be done, it would only tend to highlight the hopelessness of it all.
So managers who are tasked with performance improvement will instead look for easy fixes that can move the needle and give the top brass a feeling that things are going better. That's why a quick hit like a training program is such a seductive solution. It would be so great to say, "We sent x number of employees for retraining, and their numbers improved by x %!"
(Unfortunately, if lack of training wasn't the root issue, the numbers won't move that much -- and even if lack of training was a factor, the general flow of business has a way of discounting its effects. There will always be other events that steal training's thunder. "Yeah, numbers went up, but don't forget, that was the same month that the business launched the new marketing campaign, or the new centralized purchasing process, or the new IVR system, or the new accounting software..." The same can be said of all short-term, short-sighted fixes. All measurable evidence can be reduced to anecdotal hypothesis by introducing competing success factors. )
So, how can the concept of finding bright spots help to stop this endlessly underwhelming performance improvement loop?
First, instead of focusing on what's going wrong, the opposite approach of analyzing what is going right can shed light on the most important operative deficits. Here's how it works.
1. Find your "bright spots" - the workers who get the highest performance marks. These are the ones who consistently score higher on the measures that mean the most to the business. They might have won awards and recognition, or they might be hidden deep in the woodwork. Either way, they are the people who are helping the enterprise the most. They are the ones to watch.
2. Look at what these "bright spots" are doing differently. Discover how they organize the work. Watch what they use. Map their habits. What helps them overcome constraints? But don't just watch them. Talk to them. Interview them. Focus group them. Find out how they are thinking differently. Listen to how they explain their tasks to themselves. How have they reframed common problems to think about them from a different perspective? What gives them satisfaction? What keeps them on track emotionally?
3. Identify which homegrown tools, processes, beliefs and behaviors each "bright spot" employs that make the most impact on his or her workflow. Not all of these factors will be reproducible. Some are innate and talent-based. However, some will show potential for duplication on a bigger scale.
4. Take it a step further. Sort these reproducible factors into categories. You will see that they fall into our three component groups discussed in my prior blog post, shown here:
Now, let's talk about the other labels in the intersections on the diagram. These are descriptors that managers often use for employees who aren't meeting expectations. You won't find them in any official HR documentation, but you'll hear them verbalized bitterly in monthly management meetings. You might call these the "dark spots" in the organization. (Sorry, Chip and Dan -- that term is my own creation.) Pay attention to these labels! They can identify performance issues as accurately as bright spots, but in a more roundabout way. Use your awareness of the dark spots to focus your bright spots search.
Bright spots are not the same as best practices. They don't just formalize certain approved cookie-cutter behaviors. They can empower change from a number of angles simultaneously, but always with this principle as common denominator:
This clump of daffodils is the only bright spot in my back yard today. Bright spots are rare in this early spring on Long Island, especially after the brutal winter we just experienced.
"Bright spots" is also a term used in the book Switch by Chip and Dan Heath to describe a simple way to identify practical process improvements within a complex system. In regards to workplace performance improvement, finding the bright spots -- finding the exceptional employees who are excelling at a task -- can be the gateway to lifting performance as a whole.
High-Poking Daffodils
In a previous post (see above), I mentioned that as a corporate trainer, I love training, but it's not always the solution. Training can solve a skills gap or a knowledge gap. That's about it.
In many organizations, the way to performance improvement is always:
The Make Them DO Better Approach
- Identify the under-performers.
- Figure out what they're doing wrong.
- Correct those wrong things.
As I'll explain in a minute, that's a fallacy-prone strategy. Instead, Chip and Dan Heath say it's smarter and more efficient to use the opposite approach, or, as I would call it:
The Take Them TO Better Approach
- Identify the over-performers.
- Figure out what they're doing right.
- Propagate those right things.
In one case example of the bright spots principle, Chip and Dan Heath cite how infant survival rates in postwar Vietnam were radically increased by discovering, then adopting, two simple nutritional differences that a small minority of village mothers had adopted, almost by accident, in their quest for improving their babies' diet.
This concept of finding and studying bright spots is elegant because it identifies readily-employable solutions that are already in play within the arena of activity and thus ripe for broader adoption. Instead of low-hanging fruit, think high-poking daffodils. They're there, they're thriving, and their very existence means two things:
1. Success is possible within the current system;
2. Under the right conditions, there could be more.
What's Wrong With Wrong
Most performance measurements focus on one problem metric: the number of service complaints, or the number of system failures, or the number of errors that required reprocessing, to name some examples. These measurements fail to shed much light on the whole picture, which is probably filled with problem-riddled scenarios, variables, and bottlenecks. It would cost way too much time and energy to produce a breakdown of all the various ways things are breaking down -- and if such a study could be done, it would only tend to highlight the hopelessness of it all.
So managers who are tasked with performance improvement will instead look for easy fixes that can move the needle and give the top brass a feeling that things are going better. That's why a quick hit like a training program is such a seductive solution. It would be so great to say, "We sent x number of employees for retraining, and their numbers improved by x %!"
(Unfortunately, if lack of training wasn't the root issue, the numbers won't move that much -- and even if lack of training was a factor, the general flow of business has a way of discounting its effects. There will always be other events that steal training's thunder. "Yeah, numbers went up, but don't forget, that was the same month that the business launched the new marketing campaign, or the new centralized purchasing process, or the new IVR system, or the new accounting software..." The same can be said of all short-term, short-sighted fixes. All measurable evidence can be reduced to anecdotal hypothesis by introducing competing success factors. )
So, how can the concept of finding bright spots help to stop this endlessly underwhelming performance improvement loop?
First, instead of focusing on what's going wrong, the opposite approach of analyzing what is going right can shed light on the most important operative deficits. Here's how it works.
The Easiest Way To Identify Performance Issues
1. Find your "bright spots" - the workers who get the highest performance marks. These are the ones who consistently score higher on the measures that mean the most to the business. They might have won awards and recognition, or they might be hidden deep in the woodwork. Either way, they are the people who are helping the enterprise the most. They are the ones to watch.
2. Look at what these "bright spots" are doing differently. Discover how they organize the work. Watch what they use. Map their habits. What helps them overcome constraints? But don't just watch them. Talk to them. Interview them. Focus group them. Find out how they are thinking differently. Listen to how they explain their tasks to themselves. How have they reframed common problems to think about them from a different perspective? What gives them satisfaction? What keeps them on track emotionally?
3. Identify which homegrown tools, processes, beliefs and behaviors each "bright spot" employs that make the most impact on his or her workflow. Not all of these factors will be reproducible. Some are innate and talent-based. However, some will show potential for duplication on a bigger scale.
4. Take it a step further. Sort these reproducible factors into categories. You will see that they fall into our three component groups discussed in my prior blog post, shown here:
- Training Components = how high-performing workers explain the work to themselves: how they sort their work into workflows, prioritize work or make work simpler via shortcuts
- Motivating Components = how high-performing workers view their work from a value standpoint: what makes them they feel rewarded for achievement, what they say to themselves to keep pushing their performance, and what they say to others that indicates why their work matters to them
- Equipping Components = how high-performers outfit themselves for success: checklists, cheat sheets, calendar reminders, files, containers, and other systems and tools that they have worked out for themselves to solve problems and boost their productivity
Now, let's talk about the other labels in the intersections on the diagram. These are descriptors that managers often use for employees who aren't meeting expectations. You won't find them in any official HR documentation, but you'll hear them verbalized bitterly in monthly management meetings. You might call these the "dark spots" in the organization. (Sorry, Chip and Dan -- that term is my own creation.) Pay attention to these labels! They can identify performance issues as accurately as bright spots, but in a more roundabout way. Use your awareness of the dark spots to focus your bright spots search.
Signs that You Need a Specific Bright Spots Study
- "Complainers." These are employees who blame their poor showing on things like impossible deadlines, unresponsive coworkers, outdated computer software, or other lack of resources (floor space, budget, equipment, etc.) It's too easy to target the pessimism in this group and merely write them off as disgruntled, when actually, they may be better described as dis-empowered. Listen closely to their feedback. It could be that these employees are Trained and Motivated, but not Equipped. Focus your bright spot search on the workarounds and homemade tools that your super-performers have invented to make things more doable. Find out what your bright spots are doing. You'll probably get some great ideas for process improvements, bottleneck solutions, and/or system enhancements that can streamline production.
- "Slackers." These are employees who have found a way to stay in a job without giving it their whole effort. They view their work output as a bargaining chip. They do exactly what is expected off them, and no more, and only under certain conditions. These employees are probably Trained and Equipped, but not Motivated. If this is the general profile of your workforce, your bright spot search should look for super-performers who go against the do-the-minimum culture. When you find them, focus group the heck out of them. Find out what they are feeling. How do they combat the cynicism, defeatism, and depression that affects their coworkers? In your mixed bag of discoveries, there'll likely be some cost-effective ideas for improving communication, morale, and company policies to reflect a commitment to better employee treatment and stronger core values.
- "Bumblers." These are employees who can't get out of their own way. They're not producing because they don't have adequate rules, guidance, or skill development. They're mostly Motivated and Equipped, just not Trained enough. Time to do a bright spot search to identify workers who actually are achieving. Once you isolate those workers, find out what they are knowing. Why are they, and only they, succeeding? How have they cracked the code? Have they taken the time and effort to train themselves? Did they map their own process, write their own checklist, or recruit their own mentor to show them how? You will learn a lot by shadowing them on a typical workday and asking "How did you know to do that?" Be ready to capture their bootleg self-tutorials and market them to the top brass as potential add-ons to the current training regimen.
Bright spots are not the same as best practices. They don't just formalize certain approved cookie-cutter behaviors. They can empower change from a number of angles simultaneously, but always with this principle as common denominator:
It's already working for us somewhere -- why not systematize it?
When you find the high-poking daffodils in your business' back yard, don't just enjoy them. Find out why they're there -- then make it your mission to cultivate them and grow more.
Please leave a comment to share your thoughts on employee messaging, performance management, or bright spots.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
The 3 Things You Need To Maximize Employee Performance
I am a corporate trainer because I enjoy communicating, problem-solving, leading, and helping people get better at what they do. When I can provide the knowledge and skill development that employees need to do their jobs better, I know I've helped both the employees and the organization achieve their best.
I also know that when performance needs to be improved, training is not always the answer.
For that reason, it should make perfect sense that I'm the first to object when the bosses send people for training when training is not the solution to the problem. And very often, it isn't.
I have a diagram that I use to explain how this works. Here it is (see below).
In my experience, many organizations default to ordering more training for staff whenever they have a performance issue. Employees aren't productive enough? Make them attend a webinar or go to a class. I call that the "Using Training As Duct Tape Approach." It puts a patch on the problem, and then when the patch doesn't hold, everyone blames the Training Department... and orders new training.
I first drew this diagram during a corporate conference in Las Vegas. I was the only training designer sitting at a table full of managers. I was asked the question, "How are we supposed to meet our numbers when the company doesn't provide enough training for our staff?"
I sympathized with their plight and asked a few clarifying questions before I said, "Did you know that training is only one third of the answer to better employee performance?" I pulled out my conference agenda and drew three intersecting circles in the margin. "Training can only give people knowledge and skills - the know-how." I tapped one of the circles. "But people also need the know-why. They need to be given reasons that will motivate them to apply the knowledge they learn in training."
I tapped the second circle. "Motivating people is a separate issue than training, because training involves engaging people's brains, but motivating involves reaching their hearts. A person who is trained, but not motivated, will continue to operate at levels just as low as before training happened."
I tapped the third circle. "Suppose you have trained and motivated people. They should be superstars, right? Not if they're missing what's in this third circle. Aside from being trained and motivated, they also need to be equipped to do their jobs. That means they need a full range of the tools and systems necessary to perform. Those tools and systems need to be simple, available, and understandable."
"Training can train a person how to do their job better, but if part of doing that job means having to use clumsy tools, or inaccurate and unwieldy systems, then performance will still be a problem no matter how much training takes place. Worse still, if the right tools and systems don't even exist to empower or measure performance, then all the training in the world will be a waste of time."
I met the eyes of the managers around the table. "Which of these do you think your staff is really lacking? Training, Motivating, or Equipping?" As they thought it over, I went on to say, "I would love to brainstorm with you about any actual missing training that is needed for your teams. But I know the skills and knowledge that your folks need, and I know the programs we offer, and there are no real gaps there. So your teams probably need either Equipping, or Motivating."
The managers were staring at my little circles. One of them ventured, "Can't you do motivational trainings to motivate employees?" I smiled and said, "We can add motivational content into our training courses -- and we do. We can tell people the reasons we think it makes sense for them to do what we are training them to do. We can explain and justify and promote those reasons, and hope that they will take away enough rationale to get them started. But motivation mostly happens outside of training time. Motivation..." I paused and surveyed the table. "Motivation needs to come from you."
What do you think of my little drawing? Does it ring true for your situation at work? Leave a comment and let me know!
I'll be adding more to the diagram in my next post, The Easiest Way To Diagnose Performance Issues. To be continued...
Saturday, February 15, 2014
For Powerful Messaging, Believe Everyone Is An Expert At Something
Here's a counter-intuitive communications principle:
Read on to find out why this applies to any message you want to convey.
The Dreyfus Model of Skill Acquisition is a widely-used construct in education. Basically, it's a tool for understanding how people learn. Its five levels of mastery are usually depicted in a pyramid, as shown here. (Google searches will yield hundreds of articles on the Dreyfus model. To check out the real deal -- a summary by Dreyfus himself -- click here.)
As a corporate trainer, I use this model to develop learning programs. But it's also a very useful tool for understanding how to do basic communication. And it all relates to the human ego.
Let me put it to you in the form of a question:
Of course, you would much rather be considered an expert. So would anyone. People don't like to feel stupider than the next person.
And there is the first problem of communications.
Consider this: when you are speaking about a subject, it's probably because you know about it. In fact, you probably have a knowledge base about that subject that is superior to that of the other person to whom you are speaking. That's why you're talking about it, right?
It feels good to talk about something you know about. You have all the power. You feel like the expert.
This means that the other person is perilously close to feeling stupider than you. Even as he is trying to absorb your message, your listener is (at some level) resenting the fact that you can currently feel like the expert, and he can't. It's a huge problem for his typical human pride,and a huge emotional distraction.
Good communicators know: resentment fuels resistance. Your message won't get across if your words are being drowned out by an undercurrent of internal emotional static. Don't believe me? Think back to that smug seventh grade science teacher or that pompous college professor in your past -- the one who made you feel like you were being "talked down to." Remember anything positive, inspiring or life-changing about that class? I didn't think so. Chances are the only thing you do remember is feeling disgusted about being made to feel stupid.
Fast forward to adulthood. The "I feel stupider than you and I don't like it" syndrome is still alive and well -- maybe more so, because due to their achievements so far, most adult learners feel some sense of competency. When they are put back in the Novice position, as when asked to learn a new skill at work, they tend to squirm with rebellion. In such scenarios, their radar is quick to discern, or invent, a condescending attitude on the part of the expert in the room. If they do, there goes their attention.
If you want to be a good communicator, you need to defuse this distraction. Hence the power of humility.
How exactly do you use humility to combat this problem? You share your Expert status by granting your audience the power to be experts, too.
My favorite way to do this is to get my intended listeners to expound on their own expertise, before I even mention my own.
In my computer systems training classes for health insurance claims investigators, I know many of my learners are already at the Expert level in many aspects of industry knowledge. However, they may be only Novices in the computer system to be taught. No wonder they are uncomfortable. People don't want to check their credentials at the door and go back to the bottom of the competency scale.
I defuse this discomfort right away with a simple ice-breaker discussion. Here's my game plan for how to do it, in case it might be useful for you.
I find that this is a great way to help professionals feel more at ease with learning new content that is outside their comfort zone.
In larger groups, or if time is pressing, I often revise the activity to a simple round-robin question where I ask learners to rate their industry knowledge on a scale of one to ten. I then acknowledge their expertise collectively. It's the same principle, but it compresses the time element.
Either way, the outcome is the same. Paying homage to my professional learners' existing high level of knowledge and skill gives three advantages:
1. It defuses the "I feel stupider than you" problem and secures their emotional buy-in;
2. It sets expectations for their engagement as peers, not inferiors;
3. It leads to a more positive classroom experience for all.
When I introduce a complex systems training topic this way, initially-resistant learners end up not only learning the material themselves, but forging alliances with other classmates to help each other develop strategies for its application and move quickly out of the Novice level.
Be intentionally humble, and share the expertise spotlight with your audience. In the end, it will tear down the barricade of resentment, and clear your communications pathway so that optimal learning can take place.
Want to leverage the Dreyfus model to succeed at your next messaging task? Find a way to acknowledge your audience's innate worth and competency.
Be humble to be heard.
Read on to find out why this applies to any message you want to convey.
The Dreyfus Model of Skill Acquisition is a widely-used construct in education. Basically, it's a tool for understanding how people learn. Its five levels of mastery are usually depicted in a pyramid, as shown here. (Google searches will yield hundreds of articles on the Dreyfus model. To check out the real deal -- a summary by Dreyfus himself -- click here.)
As a corporate trainer, I use this model to develop learning programs. But it's also a very useful tool for understanding how to do basic communication. And it all relates to the human ego.
Let me put it to you in the form of a question:
What would you rather be known as: an expert, or a novice?
Of course, you would much rather be considered an expert. So would anyone. People don't like to feel stupider than the next person.
And there is the first problem of communications.
Consider this: when you are speaking about a subject, it's probably because you know about it. In fact, you probably have a knowledge base about that subject that is superior to that of the other person to whom you are speaking. That's why you're talking about it, right?
It feels good to talk about something you know about. You have all the power. You feel like the expert.
This means that the other person is perilously close to feeling stupider than you. Even as he is trying to absorb your message, your listener is (at some level) resenting the fact that you can currently feel like the expert, and he can't. It's a huge problem for his typical human pride,and a huge emotional distraction.
Good communicators know: resentment fuels resistance. Your message won't get across if your words are being drowned out by an undercurrent of internal emotional static. Don't believe me? Think back to that smug seventh grade science teacher or that pompous college professor in your past -- the one who made you feel like you were being "talked down to." Remember anything positive, inspiring or life-changing about that class? I didn't think so. Chances are the only thing you do remember is feeling disgusted about being made to feel stupid.
Fast forward to adulthood. The "I feel stupider than you and I don't like it" syndrome is still alive and well -- maybe more so, because due to their achievements so far, most adult learners feel some sense of competency. When they are put back in the Novice position, as when asked to learn a new skill at work, they tend to squirm with rebellion. In such scenarios, their radar is quick to discern, or invent, a condescending attitude on the part of the expert in the room. If they do, there goes their attention.
If you want to be a good communicator, you need to defuse this distraction. Hence the power of humility.
How exactly do you use humility to combat this problem? You share your Expert status by granting your audience the power to be experts, too.
My favorite way to do this is to get my intended listeners to expound on their own expertise, before I even mention my own.
In my computer systems training classes for health insurance claims investigators, I know many of my learners are already at the Expert level in many aspects of industry knowledge. However, they may be only Novices in the computer system to be taught. No wonder they are uncomfortable. People don't want to check their credentials at the door and go back to the bottom of the competency scale.
I defuse this discomfort right away with a simple ice-breaker discussion. Here's my game plan for how to do it, in case it might be useful for you.
Class Opener Activity: Everyone's An Expert
- Start with a simple round-robin question: "How long have you been with the company?" Then ask follow up questions to help each person give a quick summary of their work history.
- Respond to each learner's story by identifying, and expressing respect and appreciation for, their areas of skill competency, proficiency, or mastery. (See the Dreyfus model illustration above.)
- As the discussion progresses, seed in comments that emphasize the rapid pace of change in your profession, and the many opportunities all have had to learn and grow.
- When everyone has finished introducing themselves, state today's class objectives. Ask them to review those objectives and think about how today's training will have applications to all of their work specializations going forward. Invite them each to contribute knowledge and real-life examples from their areas of expertise as the class proceeds. Say, "I hope we can all learn from each other today" (once again acknowledging their Proficient or Mastery level in some subjects).
- Finally, state that the skills focused on in class today may be new to many learners (tacitly defining them as being at Novice level), but these skills represent another opportunity for them to stay ahead of the curve in your competitive industry. Quote that great anonymous quote: "If you're not learning, you're becoming obsolete." Praise them for already showing by their different career paths that they are excellent learners.
I find that this is a great way to help professionals feel more at ease with learning new content that is outside their comfort zone.
In larger groups, or if time is pressing, I often revise the activity to a simple round-robin question where I ask learners to rate their industry knowledge on a scale of one to ten. I then acknowledge their expertise collectively. It's the same principle, but it compresses the time element.
Either way, the outcome is the same. Paying homage to my professional learners' existing high level of knowledge and skill gives three advantages:
1. It defuses the "I feel stupider than you" problem and secures their emotional buy-in;
2. It sets expectations for their engagement as peers, not inferiors;
3. It leads to a more positive classroom experience for all.
When I introduce a complex systems training topic this way, initially-resistant learners end up not only learning the material themselves, but forging alliances with other classmates to help each other develop strategies for its application and move quickly out of the Novice level.
No one is a know-it-all. But everyone is a know-it-some.
Be intentionally humble, and share the expertise spotlight with your audience. In the end, it will tear down the barricade of resentment, and clear your communications pathway so that optimal learning can take place.
Want to leverage the Dreyfus model to succeed at your next messaging task? Find a way to acknowledge your audience's innate worth and competency.
Respect your learners. Share your Expert status. Believe everyone is an expert at something -- even if it's just an expert at being themselves.
Be humble to be heard.
Or, to put it more simply:
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Middles Are Always Muddy
In a technical training class that I co-led last week, the learners were becoming agitated. For days they had been absorbing new, painfully complex information. The course material was dense and daunting -- almost overwhelming. People were scared. They didn't think they were getting it. I could look around the room and read their restless anxiety.
So I confronted it.
Asking for everyone's attention, I stood up, faced the group , and told them the following story. It made a difference with them. I hope it makes a difference with you, too.
Middles Are Always Muddy
I want to quote to you one of my favorite mottoes. It is this: 'Middles are always muddy.' In my experience, this is true whenever you're in the middle of learning a new skill. It always seems about to fall apart terribly -- just before it all comes together beautifully.
Picture yourself on a hike. You come to a wide stream that you need to cross. It seems doable enough. You start to wade in, and at first it's not too bad. Then you start to hit the deeper water, where the current swirls around your legs. Your feet sink into the muck, and clouds of stirred-up murkiness spread out around you. You're almost losing your balance now. You really think you can't go much further. You feel sure you will capsize. But even as you think that, a funny thing happens. You start to realize that it's getting shallower. The muddiest part is behind you now, and you can see your feet sloshing forward again. Before you know it, you're standing on the far bank. You made it.
In the same way, anything worth learning or achieving is going to have a middle stage of confusion and discouragement. When that happens, take heart. You're just at the muddy part. You know you're supposed to be making progress, but you feel as though the pattern of it all is slipping away.
The very fact that you feel panicky and worried at this point is a testimony to your intelligence. You fret that you're not where you need to be. Of course you're not there yet. Of course you have a ways to go. Your awareness of that fact, and your discontent with your present state of confusion, are catalysts that help you persevere.
In the middle of fording a stream, you wouldn't stop in the deepest part, turn around, and slog back the way you came, would you? After all, you've invested a lot of effort up to this point. It's just as far to go back to where you started, and you would wind up wasting all the wading you've already done.
Neither would you throw off your backpack, and collapse, despondent, in the deepest mud, refusing to move onward. Why not? Because then you know you would be in over your head.
Instead, you dig in, and press on. Maybe you find a stick to help you keep your balance, or a rock to rest on and catch your breath, or a friend who can throw you a rope. Or maybe you just keep feeling your way, little by little, stepping more slowly than you'd like, but making progress all the same.
That's exactly how you get through the middle of daunting subject matter. You don't give up. You keep finding your way. Your human brain is a fantastic learning tool. It's far, far better than any man-made computer. It's an expert mapper and an intuitive problem-solver. Right in the middle of the muddy confusion, it's already hard at work: making subtle connections, working out solutions, charting your way to success. Trust your brain to help you maneuver through the muddy middle and navigate to solid ground.
Middles are always muddy.
Think of the many streams you have already crossed that were muddy in the middle.
This is just one more.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
For Big Ideas, Place Landmarks in Your Landscape
Quick! What city skyline is shown here? Don't have a clue? That's okay. Read on... all will be revealed.
You know the feeling. At a social or business gathering, you drift into a clump of talking people. The flow of conversation is going something like this:
"She told him that? Was he surprised?"
"No, I think he knew all along."
"I never would have believed she had it in her."
"Well, he'll bounce back -- he's a pro at that game."
"Not always. Remember last year in Albuquerque?"
(Hearty chuckle) "Oh, yeah! That was crazy!"
(Nervous titter)"So those rumors were right, after all?" "Yeah - she never saw that coming! "
Who are they going on about? What happened last year? At this point, your pleasant mood is being replaced by anxiety and confusion. You discover that you can't relax until you decipher the thread of this dialogue. Yet somehow you're reluctant to ask for clarification. It may be the simple social stigma of not wanting to sound stupid. It may be a creeping suspicion that you're being purposely excluded. Either way, you keep straining for clues. Eventually, if it keeps up, you're likely to wander away resentfully, in search of a less opaque conversation.
Here's the point: if you are presenting a message to make an impact, and if your message doesn't include enough firm details and precise explanations, then your listeners will eventually wander off, too. They'll leave you in the dust -- even as they stay in their seats and stare at you glassy-eyed. As we have stated before, humans hunger for context. If they don't get it, they either will supply their own -- and probably not the kind you intend! -- or they will just stop listening. Your audience goes elsewhere, and your message goes nowhere.
Context is key. Don't assume people know the Who, What, Where and Why. Regularly give them steering points so they can get your message right.
Now, let's take that idea of context and ratchet it up a bit. Let's talk about, not just any messaging, but Big Idea messaging -- the kind of vital communication that goes way above the level of cocktail party chit chat. A Big Idea is an idea that is meant to convey vision, unite the hearers, and take everyone to someplace new.
Sooner or later, every communicator needs to craft a Big Idea message.
A Big Idea's landscape is new, its urgency is now, and the context you supply cannot merely be composed of incidental details. Context must take monumental proportions. Your message needs at least one contextual landmark by which its audience can begin to define the new landscape.
We've mentioned the strategic use of sound bites before in this blog, but this is something even more durable. In the world of astronomy, a contextual landmark is a star or galaxy by which the speed and placement of other celestial bodies is mapped. In medicine, magnetic resonance imaging equipment automatically identifies contextual landmarks within a region of the body -- anatomical constants such as heart valves or bone structure -- to detect and measure other, more ephemeral conditions such as inflammation or tumors.
In messaging, a contextual landmark is a well-articulated, easy-to-understand, concrete word or phrase that helps people come to grips with an abstract idea. A contextual landmark helps people:
a. organize the idea -- map how it relates to what they already know
b. internalize the idea -- understand how it relates to them personally
c. symbolize the idea -- assign value, emotional depth and meaning
Here's another way to look at this concept. Think of the most iconic big cities of the world. They all have at least one defining architectural distinctive. Whether it's Rome (the Colosseum), Paris (the Eiffel Tower), or London (Big Ben), we all know the one silhouette jutting up from the skyline that proclaims, "You are here." These visual orientation points come to define the spirit of a city as much as its shape.
By contrast, the city skyline in the photo above does not have an iconic, imagination-stirring landmark. Its cluster of tall buildings just says "city." The contours might be familiar to its nearby population, but they're foreign to the rest of us. Even some Floridians who live in or near Tampa may not identify it as their own skyline -- much to the dismay of their city planners and Chamber of Commerce. Somehow, a city without a recognizable skyline doesn't capture our focus, our sympathy, or our trust.
Contrast this with the city I call home. One glimpse of the Empire State Building, and you know you're looking at Manhattan. A "New York City" file folder instantly pops up in your inner archives. A scene from a favorite movie may replay inside your head, or the chorus of a song, or footage from a fateful newscast. And with all that flood of association, some kind of emotion comes bubbling up, too. (Fondness or fear, I wonder?)
In the same way, any message about a Big Idea needs to have a landmark image or phrase that serves as an orientation point for listeners.
We just celebrated the 50th anniversary of one of the biggest of all Big Idea speeches. As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. addressed the masses convened at the Washington Mall, his landmark phrase was, "I have a dream." The word "dream" kept rising up from the verbal architecture of his message, a defining feature that could not be ignored, a distinctive one-syllable mantra that took on a new and textured meaning as the crowd listened, spellbound. This is true, it said. This is what we must understand together, it said. This is where we must go.
In the classic news photograph of that day, the throngs are shown listening to Dr. King with the Washington Monument looming in the background. Stern, unbending, and blindingly white, up to that point it may have seemed to some to be a forbidding, exclusionary landmark: a symbol of power, a monument to the status quo. But in that photograph, its background bulk is somehow transformed into a symbol of something new. This dream, Dr. King extolled, is for everyone. This dream is a link to our past, and a promise for our future. This dream is not about anyone needing to earn his equality. It is about everyone needing to yearn for equality.
Words, like monuments, can have enduring emotional power.
Have you ever experienced a Big Idea expressed with words that seemed as big and powerful as marble edifices? I have.
The Biggest Idea that I've ever encountered is one that I consider to be far bigger than Dr. King's dream -- in fact, Dr. King based his dream on it. And this, my personal Biggest of all Big Ideas, has as its key contextual landmark a word that is far simpler than "dream." Its key contextual landmark word is actually just: "the Word."
"And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us..." those opening lines from the Gospel of John have stirred millions of hearts, and transformed millions of lives, throughout the centuries. For me, they rise like a landmark pointing the way to deepest meaning and fulfillment. They stand like a timeless archway through which I see, and comprehend, and navigate, my whole life.
Yeah, the right words can do that.
What about your message? It can make an impact as majestic as the Manhattan skyline... or it can seem as generic as the towers of Tampa. Your choice.
If you have a Big Idea to convey, choose a landmark word, phrase, image or concept that can do it justice. Make it one that can spark understanding, fuel purpose, and embed inspiration into your listeners. Then inlay it into your message as a constant theme. Approach it from different angles. Build more meaning into it each time you present it. Craft it as the center point of your message of change. Don't merely use it as context to capture your listeners' attention. Harness its symbolism to capture their hearts.
In the landscape of your message, what landmark will your listeners recognize instantly, and know they have come home?
You know the feeling. At a social or business gathering, you drift into a clump of talking people. The flow of conversation is going something like this:
"She told him that? Was he surprised?"
"No, I think he knew all along."
"I never would have believed she had it in her."
"Well, he'll bounce back -- he's a pro at that game."
"Not always. Remember last year in Albuquerque?"
(Hearty chuckle) "Oh, yeah! That was crazy!"
(Nervous titter)"So those rumors were right, after all?" "Yeah - she never saw that coming! "
Who are they going on about? What happened last year? At this point, your pleasant mood is being replaced by anxiety and confusion. You discover that you can't relax until you decipher the thread of this dialogue. Yet somehow you're reluctant to ask for clarification. It may be the simple social stigma of not wanting to sound stupid. It may be a creeping suspicion that you're being purposely excluded. Either way, you keep straining for clues. Eventually, if it keeps up, you're likely to wander away resentfully, in search of a less opaque conversation.
Here's the point: if you are presenting a message to make an impact, and if your message doesn't include enough firm details and precise explanations, then your listeners will eventually wander off, too. They'll leave you in the dust -- even as they stay in their seats and stare at you glassy-eyed. As we have stated before, humans hunger for context. If they don't get it, they either will supply their own -- and probably not the kind you intend! -- or they will just stop listening. Your audience goes elsewhere, and your message goes nowhere.
Context is key. Don't assume people know the Who, What, Where and Why. Regularly give them steering points so they can get your message right.
Now, let's take that idea of context and ratchet it up a bit. Let's talk about, not just any messaging, but Big Idea messaging -- the kind of vital communication that goes way above the level of cocktail party chit chat. A Big Idea is an idea that is meant to convey vision, unite the hearers, and take everyone to someplace new.
Sooner or later, every communicator needs to craft a Big Idea message.
A Big Idea's landscape is new, its urgency is now, and the context you supply cannot merely be composed of incidental details. Context must take monumental proportions. Your message needs at least one contextual landmark by which its audience can begin to define the new landscape.
We've mentioned the strategic use of sound bites before in this blog, but this is something even more durable. In the world of astronomy, a contextual landmark is a star or galaxy by which the speed and placement of other celestial bodies is mapped. In medicine, magnetic resonance imaging equipment automatically identifies contextual landmarks within a region of the body -- anatomical constants such as heart valves or bone structure -- to detect and measure other, more ephemeral conditions such as inflammation or tumors.
In messaging, a contextual landmark is a well-articulated, easy-to-understand, concrete word or phrase that helps people come to grips with an abstract idea. A contextual landmark helps people:
a. organize the idea -- map how it relates to what they already know
b. internalize the idea -- understand how it relates to them personally
c. symbolize the idea -- assign value, emotional depth and meaning
Here's another way to look at this concept. Think of the most iconic big cities of the world. They all have at least one defining architectural distinctive. Whether it's Rome (the Colosseum), Paris (the Eiffel Tower), or London (Big Ben), we all know the one silhouette jutting up from the skyline that proclaims, "You are here." These visual orientation points come to define the spirit of a city as much as its shape.
By contrast, the city skyline in the photo above does not have an iconic, imagination-stirring landmark. Its cluster of tall buildings just says "city." The contours might be familiar to its nearby population, but they're foreign to the rest of us. Even some Floridians who live in or near Tampa may not identify it as their own skyline -- much to the dismay of their city planners and Chamber of Commerce. Somehow, a city without a recognizable skyline doesn't capture our focus, our sympathy, or our trust.
Contrast this with the city I call home. One glimpse of the Empire State Building, and you know you're looking at Manhattan. A "New York City" file folder instantly pops up in your inner archives. A scene from a favorite movie may replay inside your head, or the chorus of a song, or footage from a fateful newscast. And with all that flood of association, some kind of emotion comes bubbling up, too. (Fondness or fear, I wonder?)
In the same way, any message about a Big Idea needs to have a landmark image or phrase that serves as an orientation point for listeners.
- If the Big Idea is tied to tradition, the contextual landmark can function as a familiar reference point and a trusted guidepost that points to the newer concepts on the horizon.
- If the Big Idea is a break with tradition and entirely new, the contextual landmark becomes a point of embarkation from which the audience can begin to explore the new landscape and develop positive associations.
We just celebrated the 50th anniversary of one of the biggest of all Big Idea speeches. As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. addressed the masses convened at the Washington Mall, his landmark phrase was, "I have a dream." The word "dream" kept rising up from the verbal architecture of his message, a defining feature that could not be ignored, a distinctive one-syllable mantra that took on a new and textured meaning as the crowd listened, spellbound. This is true, it said. This is what we must understand together, it said. This is where we must go.
In the classic news photograph of that day, the throngs are shown listening to Dr. King with the Washington Monument looming in the background. Stern, unbending, and blindingly white, up to that point it may have seemed to some to be a forbidding, exclusionary landmark: a symbol of power, a monument to the status quo. But in that photograph, its background bulk is somehow transformed into a symbol of something new. This dream, Dr. King extolled, is for everyone. This dream is a link to our past, and a promise for our future. This dream is not about anyone needing to earn his equality. It is about everyone needing to yearn for equality.
Words, like monuments, can have enduring emotional power.
Have you ever experienced a Big Idea expressed with words that seemed as big and powerful as marble edifices? I have.
The Biggest Idea that I've ever encountered is one that I consider to be far bigger than Dr. King's dream -- in fact, Dr. King based his dream on it. And this, my personal Biggest of all Big Ideas, has as its key contextual landmark a word that is far simpler than "dream." Its key contextual landmark word is actually just: "the Word."
"And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us..." those opening lines from the Gospel of John have stirred millions of hearts, and transformed millions of lives, throughout the centuries. For me, they rise like a landmark pointing the way to deepest meaning and fulfillment. They stand like a timeless archway through which I see, and comprehend, and navigate, my whole life.
Yeah, the right words can do that.
What about your message? It can make an impact as majestic as the Manhattan skyline... or it can seem as generic as the towers of Tampa. Your choice.
If you have a Big Idea to convey, choose a landmark word, phrase, image or concept that can do it justice. Make it one that can spark understanding, fuel purpose, and embed inspiration into your listeners. Then inlay it into your message as a constant theme. Approach it from different angles. Build more meaning into it each time you present it. Craft it as the center point of your message of change. Don't merely use it as context to capture your listeners' attention. Harness its symbolism to capture their hearts.
In the landscape of your message, what landmark will your listeners recognize instantly, and know they have come home?
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Too-Sparse Messaging, or the Critical Task of Supplying Context
How many times do you assume people know what you're talking about?
See this picture? I have no idea what it is. As I look at other photos in the same folder on my computer, it doesn't seem to relate to anything else. Of course, it's a shot that should have been deleted, and was saved by mistake. But, finding it months later, I still stop and take the time to puzzle over it, trying my best to paint in the missing context beyond the borders of the frame. Why am I driven to puzzle out something of such little importance?
Because I'm human. Humans have an innate need to connect the dots. We are driven to put together the pieces -- fill in the blanks.
If you are a communicator, you need to know this about your audience. You need to be deliberate and thorough enough to give them access to all the necessary context to understand your message. Because when you assume that your hearers have all the dots, and they actually don't, they will tend to respond in some counter-productive ways. They might:
Famed psychology professor and researcher Mike Gazzaniga speaks of a section of the brain which he calls "the interpreter." Everyone has it -- you do, too -- up there in one little spot in your left hemisphere. This bundle of your brain is tasked with making sense of life as it happens. It supplies an ongoing narration to the movie of your experiences. (A fascinating dive into this subject, well worth reading, is Dr. Gazzaniga's book, Who's In Charge?)
The interpreter is the factory that takes the raw material of sensory input and sorts it into patterns, which the rest of the brain turns into baseline principles for behavior and judgment. If the interpreter doesn't have enough information to go on, it can steer the rest of the brain into grave and sometimes catastrophic errors.
People are driven to puzzle. They will fret about figuring things out. On a constant quest to establish meaning, their inner interpreters will drive them to distraction... and that distraction will hamper their ability to receive a message, buy into its importance, or cooperate with the one who gives it.
The moral is this: take care of your hearer's brains. Give your hearers enough informational resources to reach the right conclusions, make the best decisions, and effect the most optimal outcomes. Know your audience; be sure of their context. Don't put your hearers in charge of filling in too many blanks for themselves.
In the workplace, this may mean:
Here are some context-setting questions to sprinkle into your conversations with family, friends and coworkers.
It takes extra effort to do all this, of course. But please don't resent the task of supplying enough information for successful outcomes. Instead, accept it as your responsibility. In the long run, the time you spend crafting context will yield stronger relationships as well as better results.
When they follow your meaning, your hearers are much more likely to follow your lead.
So set your listeners up for success. Give them every piece of the puzzle. Don't make them puzzle it out for themselves.
And if anyone can figure out what the purple thing in that photo is -- leave a comment and let me know!
See this picture? I have no idea what it is. As I look at other photos in the same folder on my computer, it doesn't seem to relate to anything else. Of course, it's a shot that should have been deleted, and was saved by mistake. But, finding it months later, I still stop and take the time to puzzle over it, trying my best to paint in the missing context beyond the borders of the frame. Why am I driven to puzzle out something of such little importance?
Because I'm human. Humans have an innate need to connect the dots. We are driven to put together the pieces -- fill in the blanks.
If you are a communicator, you need to know this about your audience. You need to be deliberate and thorough enough to give them access to all the necessary context to understand your message. Because when you assume that your hearers have all the dots, and they actually don't, they will tend to respond in some counter-productive ways. They might:
- come to a wrong conclusion about your meaning.
- wear themselves out puzzling over your clues.
- reject your too-sparse message and ignore it.
- fester in confusion and frustration.
What's with the sparse-talkers? We all know people who seem to dispense information with an eye-dropper, hoarding their knowledge, forcing the people with whom they live or work to constantly guess about what they mean.
Some people do this on purpose. It's an actual power tactic used by some bosses who lead by fear. It keeps the power-player the focus of others' attention, and produces a gratifying, chaotic frenzy of decoding activity around him. But purposely cryptic messaging is inefficient and counter-productive in the long run, because ultimate efficiency and productivity is hampered.
Then again, some sparse-talkers don't do it for power purposes at all. They're just so immersed in their subject that they really think others are as well-informed as themselves. They skip details because they seem so obvious. That's probably been true of all of us at one time or another. We think we say what we want to say, then we are mystified when others are mystified!
Either way, messages tend to fail when they fail to supply enough context. And some interesting new discoveries in neuroscience give even more insight about why this is the case.
The interpreter is the factory that takes the raw material of sensory input and sorts it into patterns, which the rest of the brain turns into baseline principles for behavior and judgment. If the interpreter doesn't have enough information to go on, it can steer the rest of the brain into grave and sometimes catastrophic errors.
People are driven to puzzle. They will fret about figuring things out. On a constant quest to establish meaning, their inner interpreters will drive them to distraction... and that distraction will hamper their ability to receive a message, buy into its importance, or cooperate with the one who gives it.
The moral is this: take care of your hearer's brains. Give your hearers enough informational resources to reach the right conclusions, make the best decisions, and effect the most optimal outcomes. Know your audience; be sure of their context. Don't put your hearers in charge of filling in too many blanks for themselves.
In the workplace, this may mean:
- adding an extra sentence to phone conversation: "Just by way of background..."
- providing a reference footnote to a PowerPoint slide, or inserting a hyperlink into an email, to point your readers back to a source document
- creating a checklist or a set of instructions to help clarify a multiple-step process
- putting together a chart or a spreadsheet that illustrates the bigger picture
- prefacing your remarks in a meeting with a memory-jogger about an earlier comment or meeting topic
Here are some context-setting questions to sprinkle into your conversations with family, friends and coworkers.
- "Are you following?"
- "Are you with me?"
- "Any questions before I go on?"
- "Do I need to circle back and explain some of the context here?"
- "Am I saying this the right way?"
- "Would it help to take a step back and take a look at the bigger picture?"
- "Can you see how this relates?"
- "Is that clear enough?"
It takes extra effort to do all this, of course. But please don't resent the task of supplying enough information for successful outcomes. Instead, accept it as your responsibility. In the long run, the time you spend crafting context will yield stronger relationships as well as better results.
When they follow your meaning, your hearers are much more likely to follow your lead.
So set your listeners up for success. Give them every piece of the puzzle. Don't make them puzzle it out for themselves.
And if anyone can figure out what the purple thing in that photo is -- leave a comment and let me know!
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