Any advice for those of us caught in the role of "moderator" (willing or not) of a crucial conversation? Both as a manager of a team of high performing individuals and within my large family, I occasionally find myself stumbling upon a crucial conversation and must help the participants reach safety, understanding and resolution.

As a manager, it seems I'm expected to "make a decision" about who is right or wrong, when it's clear (at least to me) that both parties have stories and objectives that need to be clarified in order to reach resolution.

Within the family, while it's rarely my job to keep the peace, I recognize the value of healthy relationships and want to help out any way I can.

Can you share any tips or techniques to help others work through conflict.

Signed,
Accidental Moderator

I think your challenge is one many of us face. We see a conversation digressing into various forms of attack or retreat, are neither emotionally nor intellectually aligned with either side of the argument, and would like to lend a hand. But how do you do so without getting pulled into the argument or labeled a meddler? And how do you do so without an invitation?

There are a couple of things you can do without becoming too obtrusive or heavy handed. I find myself doing this all the time. One, you provide the contrasting statement the arguing parties are overlooking. For instance, two neighbors are arguing about transporting their kids to a park in the back of a pickup. Linda states that she doesn't want her kids to ride in the back of the truck because it's unsafe. Marcy, the other neighbor, fires back that she drives safely and doesn't appreciate being told how to parent her own kids. They both look to you for help. You respond: "I don't think Linda was trying to telling you how to parent. It sounds like she's just worried about safety issues." This is the contrasting statement Linda might have supplied on her own, but didn't—so you're lending a hand.

When you provide such a clarifying statement, it not only removes the ill-intent from the conversation and focuses on the real issues at hand, it also models a more civil tone. You're speaking calmly and pleasantly. If you then ask why Linda thinks it's unsafe, it requires both her and Marcy to muse over the facts and, in turn, rely on higher-level cognitive processing than is required when simply tossing out accusations or attacking each other's characters. This not only helps reduce anger but it also establishes a healthier climate for dialogue.

The second skill that can be readily applied by a third party draws on the techniques used when exploring others' path to action. You're watching two people go at it hammer and tong and it's not long until both are sharing hasty and ugly conclusions.

Tim: "I can't believe what you just did in that meeting. Obviously you get a kick out of watching my career go down the toilet."

David: "I don't know where you come up with this stuff. You're such a drama king."

Now, before the argument continues down this nasty conclusion-paved path, you might step in by clarifying the observed behaviors that led to the harsh conclusion. David did something that led Tim to conclude that David actually enjoyed seeing him do poorly in the meeting. But what did he do? So you help explore Tim's path to action.

"I'm curious, just what did David do? You suggested that he enjoyed watching you do poorly in the meeting. Exactly what did he do that led you to conclude that?"

"I'll tell you what he did, he was selfish and I don't like it when people are selfish."

As you can see from this example, when you ask people to share the observed behavior, they often come back with another harsh conclusion that shines no light on the subject, but instead adds more fire to the argument. You'll have to try something else.

"Was it because David said nothing to support the proposal you gave?"

"I'll say! David told me he was in favor of the idea, but when the boss spoke out against it, he clammed up. I needed his help and didn't get it. What kind of friend is that?"

David then explains that he figured the idea was doomed at the moment and wanted to regroup and gather more data so the two of them could re-approach the plan with better support material. From there, the two calm down, return to dialogue and the conversation continues productively.

The idea in both of these cases is to fill in the missing skills as unobtrusively as possible. You don't intervene per se; you help fill in the blanks. The same would be true with any skill that you think might help others return to dialogue. What you don't do is stop the conversation and point out that the others have somehow digressed into silence and violence. This is not only intrusive; it typically comes off as sanctimonious, alienates you from the two, and cuts off any possibility of your helping them return to dialogue.

Good luck in your strategic and unobtrusive mediation. I commend you for your willingness to increase the pool of shared meaning.

Kerry

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Filled with Self-Doubt? Try Shouting It Out!

When learning new skills we can be our own worst enemy. In this blog, I'll focus on Source 2, Personal Ability, and share a single message about learning new skills: "Sometimes you have to get crazy!"

A lot of the vital behaviors we ask people to master are difficult if not downright intimidating. And, when you're intimidated, you're not in a good space for learning.

When I was in graduate school, I took an acting class to learn how a really fine acting coach works with people. My advisor, Albert Bandura, told me about a fascinating woman who was an acting coach on Broadway and was planning to teach an acting class the coming spring. So I signed up.

I can't recall her name, but she was a force of nature—a warm and wonderful woman in her mid 60s with a strong Viennese accent. After a couple of weeks, I asked her to lunch and shared my goals with her. I told her about my work with managers. At that time, my plan was to have them practice new skills by role-playing them in front of the class while I videotaped them. The idea was to give them tons of feedback from me, the class, and the videotape.

My professor put down her drink and with serious passion exclaimed, "We would never do that, even with professional actors on Broadway!" She went on, "Let me see if I've got this right. You're going to ask them to practice doing their job in front of their boss and their peers, and you think they will feel safe enough to learn from this?"

That semester I learned the power of play. She was a master at putting people at ease, at creating a zone of safety and experimentation. One of her favorite techniques was to make it crazy. She'd have us shout out or whine our lines. Can you imagine Hamlet's soliloquy done in whine? How about in a strong Southern or Viennese accent?

In her class everything was a game, and it worked. Many of us were overly critical, insecure library jockeys. But we all looked forward to our time with her. She enabled us to reach well beyond our comfort zones because we knew it was all for fun.

I recalled these memories this week after reading about Li Yang's Crazy English in a New Yorker article by Evan Osnos. The Chinese are making a huge push to learn to speak and read English. Some expect there will soon be more English speakers in China than in the US. But learning a language is tough. In fact, most speakers never overcome their bad accents, and language specialists put the blame on self censorship. We don't want to look foolish by making those ridiculous new sounds—so we never take the leap into the new language.

Li Yang has started a movement within China based on "going crazy" with English. Watch a bit of one of his rallies on YouTube. He uses mass rallies where everybody shouts at the top of their lungs. He's found the key to making language instruction fun. Of course, he also uses many of the same principles Ethna Reid (see Influencer page 31) and K. Anders Ericsson (see Influencer page 118) taught us about classroom instruction and deliberate practice. But what jumps out of the article is the sheer fun his students are having.

What kinds of skills are you working on right now? Is there a way to inject some extra fun, to shout it out, or to go crazy? Maybe that's the secret ingredient that's been missing.

To comment or read other posts by David, visit The Influencer Blog

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