open questions - the sign of a good interview

I watched the Fiona Bruce interview with Price Philip.  There's no doubt that he wasn't particularly keen to be interviewed - he said as much - and like many people from his generation, he wasn't keen to dwell on his internal thoughts and feelings.

His reticence wasn't always so apparent, according to other footage in the programme; he can be seen presenting a TV programme on travel and different cultures, inviting the BBC in to film some intimate moments with his family. He appeared to believe that what was shown on the surface, was accepted as truthful.  And didn't think it needed further explanation.

So I can't have been the only person who cringed at a complete lack of rapport between Fiona Bruce and Prince Philip as she assumed more and more in her interviewing approach and left less and less space for true dialogue.  Armed with research, she seemed to go into the interview looking to prove a number of pre-determined hypotheses - he was unhappy when he couldn't continue his naval career, he felt like a spare part when Princess Elizabeth became Queen.

Quite rightly, in my view, the Prince looked rather offended at this presumption and began to answer the questions Fiona Bruce asked - just the questions she asked.  Which, given that she asked mostly closed questions, made for a very uncomfortable interview.  Added to this was an astounding lack of awareness of her interviewee - surely if someone declares that they didn't want to do an interview, don't you believe them? And then tread more delicately, antennae on the alert, building trust and developing some kind of relationship to draw them out? 

None of this appeared to strike Ms Bruce, who seemed to panic slightly, filling in more and more of the dead silence.  It's not that I envy her the job - a reluctant Royal famed for speaking his mind would hardly be considered an easy interview.

But she hardly helped herself, presenting "facts" and then simply asking for comments on them.  I looked up the concept of an open question on Google.  It said to use open questions:


"to develop a conversation and open up someone who is rather quiet."

I think the key part is about developing a conversation - that, and being more attuned to what makes someone comfortable enough with you to open up. While it might be considered a bit of an art, surely an experienced TV interviewer should have it?

wanting it enough?

I seem to be thinking a lot about unemployment at the moment.  Partly because some of the people I'm coaching are without a role at the moment, and partly because we're doing some building work.

We had some replies to our emailed tender today; I won't name the company but a couple of things struck me from their response in times when money is tight and new business is hard to find.

The first thing was that the company got my name wrong.  Call me old fashioned, but this is basic, basic stuff.  If can't get my name right on the first email you send to me, what else are you likely to get wrong? So nul points there.  I noted from the response that the sender's first language might not have been English, and some might say that I need to cut them some slack.

My response to this is - if you want to demonstrate how much my business means to you, then can you please check the spelling, the grammar, the details? After all, this is my first impression of you.  (I actually now don't even open mail which can't spell my name correctly, it simply goes in the recyling).

I look at the proposal they've sent me.  The words "bespoke" jump out at me from what looks like a standard response. I look more carefully through the details.  We've already spent a lot of money on plans, and developing a fairly detailed tender document - down to the number of power sockets we wanted in the new space.

Sadly, this contractor either forgot we'd asked for this number, or decided we couldn't possibly want that many, and replaced our specified number with his own in the quote.  In addition, instead of quoting for the type of insulation we'd requested, he ignored that too and said HIS company always used THIS type.... no other explanation.  He also told us we'd have to pay more for the drawing up of the plans - which we'd included in the pack.

Now I'm a reasonable woman, and frankly, building work is hardly my forte, but given that we'd already spent time with our lovely architect pulling the tender together, asked tenderers for the costs to be presented in a certain way, and approached this company to offer the work (so limited sales costs for this job!) - I'm a mite hacked off that they couldn't be bothered, at this early stage, to actually do what we asked.  Are we not the customer?

And in a tight market, where people have less money to spend and are looking more carefully at who they spend it with, is it not a good idea - presuming you want the business, of course - to build a relationship with the customer by treating them well and trying to respond to their every whim?  I mean, had we stipulated that all the work should be done in purple tutus,  deprived of their normal tea breaks, or completed within four weeks instead of a reasonable ten.... then perhaps such a response might be justified. But we did none of that, just put a tender together which said what we wanted.

Because we're reasonable people, I daresay we'll point out a few differences in what they'd offered and what we'd asked for.  But will they get the business?  The jury is still out, but it's not looking great.

The power of ducking and a thicker skin

I took part in a panel discussion at an event a few months ago.  Despite my advanced years, I was nervous. Indeed, despite my advanced years, I'd never done anything like this before.  The other panellists had written books, changed organisations, moved mountains (figuratively at least) and one belonged to a huge organisation with offices everywhere, consulting in far-flung places.

I was from a tiny consultancy, and had little but my academic background and a reasonable level of common sense to recommend me.  I couldn't claim years of global projects, but I did have a good understanding of almost ALL the theory behind the debate, and some critical interpretations of said theories.  Plus lots of feedback particularly from people in the public sector, to how the theory worked in practice.

I'd prepared, done some reading, honed my opinions and I bought a new dress.

The event went ok, I thought. I said some sensible things, some people agreed with me, some not.  My partner, who attended the event to support me, said I'd done well.

The session was videod and when it was released, I watched it, trying not to cringe. I saw when I didn't answer the question from the audience, when I got pompous and into the rhetoric, when I looked too earnest.  I also saw when I nailed my own personal views, saying them exactly as I wanted to, concisely and eloquently.  So - by no means a ten out of ten performance, but ok.  Maybe a seven.

As this was the first event of this type I'd been involved in, I anxiously waited for feedback and people wrote to me, saying they either agreed with or enjoyed my contribution.

Glowing in a muted kind of way, I assigned the experience to a box marked "worthwhile" and went on with life.

Some time later, I looked at a blog on the same topic. The comments that had been added to the blog mentioned the panel I'd been on.  To my dawning distress, there were a number of comments that effectively dismissed the event that I'd been on, suggesting it was over hyped and self indulgent.  To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was weirdly hurt too, by these people who didn't know me, knew nothing of the preparation or the nervousness.

I was taken aback by the snide comments and the almost personal asides. They weren't even aimed specifically at me - but as I'd participated, I felt a large level of responsibility for the feedback on the event and spent a pretty fruitless half hour wondering how I'd managed to add to the negative view of the event. I managed not to pore over the video again.

This happened a few weeks ago.  The very fact that I'm blogging about it now (and blogging about it at all!) probably says more about me than it does about the event, or the comments.  But the experience did remind me of a few salutary lessons.

1. Putting your head abover the parapet increases your chances of getting shot at.
2. Those who try new things may well be applauded - but there's always someone ready with a gripe
3. Those who are never criticised probably haven't done much. 

Of course, the million-dollar question is - would I do it again.  Answer: definitely.

And yet another question is - if people can misjudge you, your actions, and your motives (and you have good intent) - are you doing the same to others?  Answer: probably definitely.

Feedback, said a good friend of mine, is the breakfast of the Gods, a gift.  Occasionally, as with gifts, you may like to exchange it.  However, as with all gifts, the best way to receive them is with gracious thanks and a smile. 

So now, having said all this, I'm off to grow a thicker skin and delete the video.

Babylon's Burning - memories of unemployment

So there I was on the tube and on my iPod came the sound of The Ruts and a live version of Babylon's Burning. As I drew in a breath, I was transported back to the Leadmill in Sheffield, circa 1982. The driving, pounding rythym and a sense of youth and power washed over me as I swayed and was jostled on the Victoria line.

It doesn't matter how old I am, how corporately I'm dressed, this track brings me smack back to my younger self - slightly rebellious, hungry and yearning.

The 80s weren't a particularly happy time for me. I left university almost in a daze, and walked into the worst recession in the UK since the 30s. It took me two years and more applications than I care to remember before I got a job. As time went on, I gradually sank further and further into helpless depression which my mum - in work since she was 15 - didn't recognise, and couldn't help me with.

But I didn't get that drained, helpless feeling when I listened to this track. I just hear the raw energy and excitement and I get infused with the sort of gritty determination which threads through the music. In NLP terms, this is called an anchor.

What strikes me most forcefully now is the resilience of the human spirit. I went through the first real misery I had ever known coming out of university - bright, with a newly-minted qualification and nowhere to go. As my unemployment went on and on, I slowly lost all sense of who I was and what I was good at. It has taken me years to rebuild my identity as worthy, useful, intelligent.

But that's forgotten, listening to this track - I only remembered the tense, hopeful excitement of the beat, the live atmosphere.

I think it's vital to concentrate of who you are, not what you do for a living. You're more fascinating in your likes, quirks, views and curiosities than any number of clients, any amount of transactions, any level of budget responsibilities. The lack of a role doesn't make you less lovable, less kind, less intelligent. Think of times when you had a sense of purpose, of power, of excitement of joy and relive them.

And get out your old records.

What price a job?

The quarterly figures released by the Office for National Statistics earlier this month show that the number of people unemployed has risen to 2.53 million – an increase of 27,000. This is the highest level of unemployment in the UK since 1994.
In November, the Government announced that anyone without a job who refuses community work, the offer of a job, or fails to apply for a job if advised to do so, will lose their benefits. This could be for between three months to three years, depending on their intransigence.
Almost regardless of the political arguments, or indeed the state of the public purse, there seems to be something out of kilter with Government policies. This push to make it better to be in work than out of it, is beginning to force the employment relationship into a transactional frame. This appears to completely work against the McLeod report and Government exhortation to businesses to “engage” employees.
This edict for the unemployed seems to imply that they would be willing to go to work purely to earn sufficient money to live.
So will ANY job will do for more than two and a half million people, just so they can get some money - whether earning a wage or keeping their benefits? The majority of academic studies on employee well –being and engagement talk about a sense of connection with their organisation, some elements of control in their job. They talk a lot less about the wage. I think that those forced into taking jobs won’t feel any sense of control and indeed, if they are asked to work for nothing, won’t even feel any sense of satisfaction that they have something in their pocket at the end of the month.
As for engagement – I wonder if this would be possible with people forced into jobs over which they have little choice and where potential poverty is the main motivation for applying.

Face to face is dead - long live Facebook?

I was on Facebook recently and I saw a message trail which made me look twice.  Someone had posted an RIP for someone I knew.  As I looked, his sister had posted a comment, also his girlfriend and a number of his friends.  Strangely enough, it wasn’t that he had died that shocked me – although that was shocking enough.  It was the messages.

It’s difficult to find anything to say about death which in the light of mourning, isn’t trite or repetitive. But on Facebook, the messages acquired a new shallow quality that I found repulsive. 

I’ve no idea why messages about the death of a friend or relative should be different from those about the birth of a new baby.  After all, it’s a fast, easy to read, easy to write, update about something that has happened.  But nevertheless I found myself thinking how crass it was.

The death of someone you know is always shocking, expected or not. 

But death, thrust into Facebook posts of breakfast, travel plans, greetings to friends and party photographs, seems indecent in its starkness, as incongruous as someone shouting at prayers.

To my surprise, I find that lots of organisations appear to announce the deaths of employees via email, with noticeboards for people to write their thoughts and condolences.  In a large organisation, this might be rapid, expedient and – by giving employees an opportunity to express their feelings – humane.   HR and internal communication professionals believe that it helps for people to be able to post their thoughts, and that the family find it comforting.

Myself, I’m still not convinced that Facebook is the right place to announce a death.

Death brings us face to face (pardon the pun) with the inevitable. And facing our ultimate end doesn’t require a computer screen and type – it requires a soft voice and a warm, human hand.  It requires space and silence – but with company to reassure.  And a piece of electronics hasn’t yet been invented than can pass a tissue or give a hug. 

I worry that while social media was once heralded as something that could help shy and awkward teenagers connect with other teens, to help then gain confidence, it’s now had the effect of making face to face contact a highly risky thing.  While digital communication is as immediate as face to face – it’s also relatively anonymous. 

After all, face to face you don’t have time to think before making a response (as you do on Facebook) and your tone, face and body send messages as well as what you say.   But people KNOW you – you’re there in front of them.  If they don’t like what you say, they can punch you on the nose. If they like it, they can kiss you. Or something in between.  The response from Facebook is much more distant – they can unfollow you, even if they don’t want to make a response.  Or the argument is carried out online, potentially no less hurtful or vicious – just less immediate, less THERE.

I can see distance creeping in to relationships, even the closest ones.  I see relationships between people in the same house being conducted online, in the full view of friends and family, where instead of banging out their frustrations on a keyboard, they would be better served – as would their children – talking to one another. 

This is also played out in the workplace, where email is so much more prevalent for business communication than, say, picking up the phone or even walking to the other side of the office.

This is a little way from announcing that someone has died over the internet – but stems from the same issue, I think.  We’re forgetting how to communicate with one another, face to face.

I showed this blog to my partner – she pointed out the irony of using a blog to say this.  This irony is not lost on me….

why information = reduced stress

In December, I was walking from Kings Cross station to the British Library. As I walked up Euston Road, I also passed the long, snaking line of miserable people, pinched with cold, desperately waiting for a seat on Eurostar.

The amount of snow in London, of course, was unprecedented – and certainly the transport network was caught unprepared. None of this was of interest to the queues of shivering tourists and business people, simply wanting to get to their destination. As I walked the long, long line, there were train staff keeping people on the pavement, and preventing people from jumping the queue – even on the second day, handing out coffee. The one thing that wasn’t being handed out was information.

Press coverage of the event showed travellers angry and upset that they had been left in the dark and that they felt abandoned.

So why might information have helped? Customer announcements would hardly have melted the snow, or taken the ice off the rails.

Information is necessary for people to make choices. In the case of these travellers, even a little information might have enabled them to decide to stay in the queue – or to stay in a hotel for the afternoon. And it’s not so much the depth of information, it’s about the sense of power that having the information gives. In situations of uncertainty, more information gives at least the option for more choices. Without it, people are caught in a dilemma made even more difficult because of a lack of rational data to help them move from one place to another – and in the case of Eurostar, this place was physical as well as emotional.

It struck me, working on a change programme after Christmas, that stress for employees is often because of the same problem - a lack of information. There are plenty of good reasons why management may keep information about their future plans from employees – further consultation is required, plans aren’t finalised, the markets require it.

But there are also plenty of bad reasons that management keep quiet about their plans. These include sins of omission - management not considering that it’s necessary, or not even recognising that it’s important, or history (this kind of information has never been released in previous change programmes). They also include the less forgivable reasons, for example, management cowardice, or a paternalistic attitude towards employees that implies that they can’t cope with the “truth”.

However, my experience is that by withholding information, management make employees into children by disenfranchising them from the choices they might have. For example, knowing truthfully that a reorganisation is going to result in headcount reductions – even if you don’t know how many and where - may enable people to make their own minds up about what they want. This might mean hunkering down for the wait, or starting to look for a job elsewhere, even start a new career. It will certainly mean discussions with family, partners and friends, and those discussions about what, and when, and how – all give people a sense of power and self-direction. It will also enable them to start finding the resources and support they need to take action – whatever that is.

My guess is that management don’t do this because they fear an exodus of their best people and that “business as usual” won’t be possible as people consider their options.

I have news for them – for anyone going through large scale change, business is anything but usual.

But the benefits could be considerable.

If management is prepared for this, this may not simply mean an exodus of the best people. It might mean a more adult, informed, and frank debate about the future. It might mean more prepared and resilient employees who feel they have some control and some choices. All of which are steps towards reducing the stress of the people caught in the middle of the change.

www.corporatemagnetism.com