We’ve all got stuff to work on. Things we need to be better at. Things we need to stop doing. Things we need to just get done. And most of us, every day, do a little to improve, often through a slow and painful process of trial and error. It doesn’t come easy, but since when does anything come easy?
At times, we crave a helping hand, someone to lighten our load or just hold the flashlight while we try to find that last stubborn screw. At other times, we don’t know which way to go, and we feel we need someone with a figurative flashlight to guide us. Hence the popularity of coaching and professional development.
Sometimes, though, it doesn’t hit right.
Case in point: Last Monday morning I got an email from a faculty empowerment/coaching organization with the subject line, “Are You Ready to Get Unstuck?”
First thing that came to mind was, “I didn’t know I was stuck.” Then I started dwelling on all the things that I am doing wrong, all the projects that I haven’t finished, all the support I am not giving to those around me, and came away with one inescapable conclusion: I am now, and always will be, a total loser.
Quite a way to start my workweek.
To be honest, I was able to climb out of that hole by the time I was ready to greet my first visitor, but the experience did give me an idea that I wanted to explore and share with you.
First, the message we intend isn’t always (and, I would argue, isn’t more than it is) the one that others receive. If you have taken one of my communications workshops, you might remember me talking about “the four things you say” when you speak: what you think, what you actually say, what others hear, and what they share. I am not a neurologist, but from personal experience I can say that I often don’t say exactly what I think I’m saying, and people often hear something a bit different. Add all those up, and you have a recipe for confusion and conflict. Then you add wishful hearing to the mix, and the odds of being clearly understood go down quite a bit, perhaps even drastically, though the precise calibration requires a level of math that is currently beyond my abilities.
Knowing that people aren’t always going to hear what we intend, and that when they process our message internally the result might be something quite different, it makes sense for us to carefully craft that message. Of course, that is easier said than done, particularly when we are in the heat of the moment, with little time to mull all the infinities of interpretation.
But when we’re sending a scheduled email, we do have the time to think through exactly what we are hoping to convey, and it might be a more effective email if we think of who our audience is, and what might resonate with them.
Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that I am trying to reach academics who are hoping to be more productive. There are many ways we can build the message, but we need to make one major choice at the outset: do we ask them to build on what they have already accomplished, or do we point out all the work that they have left undone.
You probably know where I’m going with this. I am not a big believer in the deficit mindset as a motivator or as a way to connect with people. There is limited time in the day, and a seemingly infinite roster of tasks to complete. We make choices about what to prioritize. Sometimes, in retrospect, we make bad choices. But most often, based on what we knew at the time, we make pretty good choices. Beating ourselves up because things changed rarely helps. In fact, to the extent that it makes it harder for us to make choices in the future, it can actually hurt.
Starting a conversation by focusing on the deficits—you are stuck, you are unproductive, you really need to take better care of yourself—is often, I think, counter-productive because it starts us out on the wrong foot.
For example: someone is about to run their first marathon. They are on the way to the starting line when they pass you, turning for some encouragement. Which of the following do you think would be the best to say?
- You’ve never run this distance before.
- A lot of people struggle in their first marathon, so be careful out there.
- I know you have a lot going on in your personal life, but leave all that behind and focus on making this a good run.
- You’ve trained really well and shown that you are a strong runner. You’ve planned carefully for this race, and the conditions look good.
All of those sentences might be technically “the truth,” but I’ve got to think that (4), which is not rooted in a deficit mentality, is the best choice here. Plus, whenever someone gives you a bunch of choices in this context, the first three are usually strawmen and the last one is the one the writer thinks is best (but I think you already knew that).
Let’s look at the potential answers here. “You’ve never run this distance before” is factually accurate, but it highlights what the runner hasn’t accomplished rather than what they already have. And it’s the perfect statement to open up the door for an unwelcome houseguest of self-doubt. From experience, self-doubt peaks around miles 21 to 23, so it’s best to keep that guest far away.
The second answer can also be true and tries to be helpful, but is it really? Does anyone plan on not being careful? While it is masked in the language of care, it really seems to be telling the runner they are probably going to struggle.
The third answer is funny to me, because I imagine the runner psyching themselves up and not thinking about anything in their personal life, when suddenly they crash back down to earth thanks to the reminder. Now they can’t think of anything else, and what should be a fun few hours of distance running might now be spent ruminating on everything that isn’t perfect.
I like the fourth answer because it also states a truth, that the runner has trained well and demonstrated proficiency, without dwelling on what they haven’t done…yet.
I now have a better idea of what rankled me about the “Are you ready to get unstuck?” email: the framing that I and everyone on the mailing list, despite being at worst marginally productive academics (after all, we are still employed if we’re on the list), are told that we are stuck. Stuck where, exactly? Doing a job I love? Sharing my thoughts with people? Sure, my current book could be coming along more quickly, but that’s more due to choices I have made about what to prioritize rather than being creatively or emotionally “stuck.”
And if someone is objectively stuck in the sense of not being able to move forward, highlighting that is hardly going to motivate them to take that first step. But a look back at how far they have progressed just might.
This whole experience reminded me of the importance of avoiding the deficit mentality when coaching others (and myself). To the extent that it helps you see the power of focusing on accomplishments rather than absence, I hope it is helpful to you in some way.
So until next time, expect the unexpected, stay informed, and I’ll stay informal.
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