On a low-tide walk I first saw a beautiful whelk shell. I picked it up, looked at the pattern and colors, and waxed ecstatic about it. Within inches I came upon another shell, different from the first, also a whelk, interesting in its own way, and still commanding my attention. As I moved towards shoreline, there were piles and piles of shells, some clams, some mussels, and some whelks. No two seemed to be exactly alike, but it became difficult to distinguish one from another. Eventually, there were so many shells, mostly covered in seaweed that I trod on them without even looking at what was beneath.

The longer I walked, the more I saw the experience as a metaphor for how listening intelligence is viewed

• When we think there is a unique message, we pay attention.
• When the individual delivering the message attracts us, we consider it worthy to heed.
• We take time with people who present themselves as individuals and not as part of a pack.
• It is more challenging to be heard when we are placed among many others who are similar to us.
• Our identity can be camouflaged when we’re buried beneath detritus.
• With so much information available, it’s not easy to differentiate one message or one person from the other.

Listening Impact’s work is to help people understand who they are as listeners, how to use their individual intelligence to further their own value, and how to be a skilled contributor to collective intelligence.

What metaphors do you use to show/explain individual and collective intelligence?

Individuals bring their unique listening profile to every situation, and tend to pay attention to or ignore the same people, ideas, and issues. But what happens when the situation or context shifts so radically that the well-honed profile no longer fits?

Case:

Manny, Director of Client Services, has worked for Rachel, VP of Business Development, for twelve years. They have an open and trusting relationship, at least, from Manny’s perspective. One day, Rachel announces to him that two of his four direct reports will be given early retirement, and Manny might want to consider that as well. “You don’t have to do that Manny, but I want to make sure you’re taken care of while I have some say in the matter.”

Almost immediately, Manny stops interacting: he hunkers down, is careful about everything he says and does, skips meetings, and rarely talks to Rachel. Those behaviors in that context will seal his fate, in a negative way. What Manny has to do to save himself is step up his interactions: talk to people to show interest, listen to words and body language, ask questions and have ideas, communicate more with customers and management—make himself an active participant in the company’s future instead of shrinking into a small, unnecessary, cog in a large, fast-turning wheel.

I am also aware how hard it is to do the opposite of what one feels. Manny is hurt, scared, angry, and shocked. He asks himself: how could I have missed the signs, how could I have trusted Rachel, how could I be so devalued? He has every reason to feel that way; yet, if he wants to move forward, he has to take charge of his own attitude, behaviors, and beliefs.

Manny is all of us. We have to look around, assess the environment, listen to what is and is not being said, and find ways to step forward. We manage ourselves.

We don’t see things the way they are, we see things the way we are.

That observation is credited to The Dalai Lama, Anais Nin and all the way back to The Talmud. And probably countless speakers, authors, and clergy.

Often the best way for me to make sense of something is to relate it to something I’ve experienced (that’s what an Inner-personal Listener does, by the way)

I was asked to facilitate a meeting between a business owner and her three direct reports. In not so many words, she indicated that she wanted me to represent her position to the employees. Her modus operandi was to avoid direct conflict, often sitting facing away from a person who came into her office with concerns, and withdrawing emotional support to someone when anything went wrong in the office—at least wrong in her eyes.

I did not agree to her request to be her Charlie McCarthy, but I did offer to coach her to prepare for such a meeting. We set a date for the meeting to make sure she’d hold it, sent invitations with a heading that initially said, “Meeting to discuss performance problems,” to something less intimidating, “Meeting to review team interactions and order fulfillment.

She wasn’t really in favor of changing the wording because she thought it too soft and not really what they had to talk about. “The team drops the ball with customer fulfillment and we’re losing customers as a result. There’s no reason to beat around the bush. My job is to get orders out the door, not to have love-ins at work.”

This person is an extreme problem-solving listener who cares about facts and data, not people. She does not see how the team interaction contributes directly to customer retention. She needed to see that phenomenon in real time, rather hearing it from me, especially when she didn’t want to believe it. We eventually developed a set of questions for the meeting, some of which were facts about the products, others were about the process, and still others were about the team’s interactions.

I facilitated the meeting, but she led it, much to her chagrin. Everyone had a list of the questions, which provided structure and something for her to rely on. During the preparation coaching I suggested she start with an overview of the issues at hand and ask the team members how they would describe the issues. Needless to say, she did not see the situation as they did, and not only did she come armed with facts, they also had data for their assertions.

She projected her problem-solving listening onto the team and the issues. She selected only some of the available facts, those that corresponded to her perceptions, and ignored others that were held by others, but were not on her screen. She saw what she wanted, not necessarily what existed.

By meeting’s end, they were all engaged with one another, there was a list of the problems in one column and possible solutions in another column, roles and responsibilities were spelled out, and agreement made to work on their team with my help.

Think about yourself—how often do you listen to learn what is with an open brain and heart? Can you honestly commit to listening to learn what is rather than imposing the way you are on people and situations?

If we go back 100,000 years, the timeframe she cites as the source of our hardwiring, she said the job of men was to hunt to feed the community, and he did that by developing a strong sense of geography and direction to reduce the amount of time it would take to get to the target animal source. Thus men’s brains selected in the ability to move from point A to point B in the most efficient manner. Those same men’s brains, had to select out empathy in order to kill day-after-day without remorse.

That information made so much sense, given the numbers of men I’ve encountered in the workplace who are linear thinkers and not very empathetic.

The job of women at that timeframe was to reproduce, protect the next generation, and be communal. They only left home base when the entire group moved to another area to pursue food and water. Consequently, their brains selected out the same attributes that the men’s brains selected in. Now I understand that I’ve been hardwired to have a poor sense of direction (and perhaps that I’m a vegetarian?).

That was useful information, but the biggest aha came later in the lecture when Ms. Parks brought up how hardwiring influenced women’s success in the STEM (science, technology, engineering, math) study. She said that until 2005 Mount Holyoke College accounted for a disproportionate number of women going into STEM fields. Upon examination, researchers found that all of the students and faculty were women. Thus, the similarity in mirror neurons enabled women to teach and learn from one another.

But, then, when men were introduced into the faculty (maybe because it was hard to find enough women professors), the success rate dropped. Why????? Because women students reverted to old patterns: they waited for permission or an invitation from the male professor to ask questions, express lack of understanding, request help, talk to others about concerns, and seek praise.

I immediately thought about Sheryl Sandberg’s career (the COO of Facebook) and how many men invited her success: her father, Larry Summers, Mark Zuckerberg, her husband. No doubt she’s extremely able, but I wonder if she would have been the queen of Lean In, had there not been a push or a pull from a nearby man?

What does hardwiring have to do with listening? The relationship is in the work that’s being done with brain plasticity. If, as Ms. Parks says, 80% of our brain is hardwired, that leaves 20% that can flex and change. That non-empathetic man can become more caring, I can improve my sense of direction, women can become STEM practitioners, we can pay attention to people unlike us, and no one has to wait for permission to speak up and act.

Believe me, there were lots of differing opinions. Some people said I had it 180 degrees wrong; it was just the opposite. I remembered my few years of Latin, which made me quite sure of the meaning of the words, but instead I let Google be the definitive source.

Some of the definitions were so blurred that there was almost no differentiation, while others seemed to contradict one another. Alas, the following by Daniel Goleman appeared.

There are three kinds of empathy. First, cognitive, where you sense how the other person thinks about the world, which means you can put what you have to say in terms they will understand. Second, emotional, where you instantly resonate with how the person feels. And third, empathic concern, where you express the ways you care about the person by helping with what you sense they need.

His explanation made sense to me as well as to the others in the debate. Then I pondered whether those three kinds would require separate forms of listening. Yes!

A cognitive listener, being empathetic, would probably say something like, “I am sorry your job was discontinued. I think you’ve been here for nearly a decade, are the father of the Grand X project, and have made many significant contributions to the company.” This form of empathy is all about the person’s brain and accomplishments.

An emotional listener, being empathetic, would probably say something like, “I am sorry your job was discontinued. You must be so bummed after all the years you’ve been here, and putting your heart and soul into your work. What a shame.” This form of empathy is mostly about the emotional consequences of the job loss.

A concerned listener, being empathetic, would probably say something like, “I am sorry your job was discontinued. I’ve enjoyed working on projects with you, respect your abilities, and don’t understand what happened. What can I do to help you over this next patch?” This form of empathy is personal, focused on the other person, and open to be of assistance.

One form is not better than the other. What does matter though is for the listener to tune into the person who needs empathy, and provide just the right touch. Silence first to gather information and show respect, then offer.

Please answer,  My listening intentions for 2014 are:

I know a couple for myself:

• Give more time and thought to my responses instead of jumping in with quick reactions
• Stay on top of brain research to make sure my teachings are accurate and current

And you?

During her first two weeks, Jess held one-on-one sessions with her four direct reports, talked with every rep in her district, met with peers in other departments, and visited with key customers. She carefully listened to everyone, that is, until she came across Reg.

Jess no sooner arrived at his office than he rubbed her the wrong way. Not only did he not stand to greet her, he remained facing his terminal. Jess waited at the door for him to engage, thinking he was busy with something, but after a few minutes, he didn’t move.

Jess stepped into the room, knocked on the wall, and said, “Hello Reg, I believe we have an appointment. I’m looking forward to talking with you.”

Reg, rather abruptly, and without changing positions, replied, “So what do you want to know?”

Jess was so turned off by his manner, tone-of-voice and rude posture that she said, “Perhaps another time,” and left.

From then on, Jess and Reg didn’t interact directly with one another. Jess’s feelings were hurt in that initial encounter, and Reg thought she was “touchy.” Both emotionally charged reactions cost time, reduced collaboration and strained morale.

While this case might seem extreme, it’s an everyday workplace occurrence. Employees cause emotional reactions in one another that halt listening.

Let’s look at the types of emotions that are experienced by people with the four listening habits:

Inner-Personal Listeners:

They are self-reflective and interested in knowing more. If you ask them to speak up and out, they may feel intruded upon and will shut down. They do tend to take things personally, so watch your teasing and pointed feedback.

Extra-Personal Listeners:

They are concerned about others and are often empathetic. If you don’t ask for their participation, they may feel excluded and will shut down. They do want to be useful and helpful, so remember to invite them into discussions, especially those about how to satisfy internal and external customers.

Problem-Solving Listeners:

They want to make right decisions and seek facts and details to aid in that goal. If you don’t ask for and can share data, they may feel the time is not well spent, and will shut down. They do tend to put more emphasis on facts than on feelings, so make sure to come armed with plenty of details.

Conceptualizing Listeners:

They want to create and add ideas to interactions. If you don’t allow them to provide options and alternatives, they will shut down. They do tend to elaborate, so give them boundaries as well as time to form and share ideas.

I don’t want to leave you with the impression that all emotions will stifle listening. Sometimes it’s just the opposite. Take Jess’ interactions with Reg and suppose how different their connection would be if he had greeted her with a collegial handshake, invited her to sit at the table with him, talked openly and asked her intelligent questions? They would have created a relationship that was emotionally safe and smart for their organization.

Sharing emotions builds deeper relationships. Motivation comes from working on things we care about. It also comes from working with people we care about. To really care about others, we have to understand them—what they like and dislike, what they feel as well as think. Emotion drives both men and women and influences every decision we make. Recognizing the role emotions play and being willing to discuss themmakes us better managers, partners, and peers.

         ~  Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg, p. 88

When I feel lonely, my first thought is that you hold the key to loneliness. When I feel confused, my first thought is that you (or someone neither of us knows) is more clear, if I can only find them and get them to speak. When wanting respect, my first thought is that it is waiting on the other side of some mammoth achievement I must devote myself to. I try so hard to find what I need or want outside of myself, certain it is waiting for me somewhere just over there.

In the end, seeking only brings us to the edge of knowing ourselves.

You are that which you are seeking.

After class, I asked for a copy of the passage, which prompted William to wonder why this piece and none of the others he’s read over the course of our time together. Frankly, I wasn’t sure, but I knew it had a lot to do with the expectations people put on “the other” to be the answer to the life they think they seek.

It reminded me of the many times I’ve heard individuals and teams complain about their managers, senior executives, customers, peers, the government, the economy – you name them – claiming that one or all of them is to blame for any number of problems. When I press the complainers to examine their part, few willingly look inside.

Following are the self-examination questions I ask them to address:

1. What is real and within my reach as compared to my fantasies and wishes?
2. If everyone did what I wanted, what would that change?
3. How many times have I discussed my dissatisfaction with someone who can actually make or influence change?
4. What might I have done to contribute to the problem issue?
5. What do I want badly enough to make changes within myself to get what I desire?

I’ve learned that so much of what we seek can be realized, as long as we are relentless, vulnerable, self-effacing, and do not lay blame or put expectations outside of ourselves.

As this new year faces me, I will strive to remember that I am that which I am seeking.

I’m sure you’ve seen the aftermath of such behaviors in your careers, I certainly have.  I’m reminded of the time I was invited to hear Dr. Deming speak at a convocation of senior executives at GM. It was in the early 90’s, a time when automobile companies were beginning their decline, and I was part of a project designed to upgrade leadership skills to stem that tide. Fortunately for me, I happened to be in Detroit when he was speaking.

One of the many brilliant ideas that the 90-year-old thinker had to share was about the real costs of poor quality, often caused by faulty decision-making. I’ve never forgotten his formula, and have shared it often because it’s so powerful and graphic.

Dr. Deming said his research showed that costs of poor decisions are:

$10 to rectify inaccurate, incomplete, biased facts or details at the information gathering stage

$100 to rectify when that information is used after the decision is made

$1000 to rectify when the decision is executed

No amount will rectify the results of the decision when it gets into the hands of customers

Some tips I’ve identified to avoid costly decisions:

1. Take much longer than anticipated at the information-gathering stage.
2. Ask everyone who might have valuable knowledge, insights, and experience to contribute.
3. Ask open-ended questions to broaden thinking and responses.
4. Accept all ideas. That does not mean you have to use them all.
5. Keep customers/end-users in mind.
6. Inform everyone involved and affected about the decision. Whether their ideas were used or not, they want to know the results.
7. Keep checking to make sure everything is on track.
8. “Stop the line” when anything goes awry. It costs much less to halt the process than to re-do.

When people tell me they are not listened to, I relate their frustration to what happened on the stage when Dr. Deming was introduced. Roger Smith, the then CEO, waxed ecstatic about Dr. Deming’s accomplishments, turned to the guest speaker, and started to walk off the stage. The speaker asked Mr. Smith where he was going and a rather nonplussed chairman, mumbled something as he continued to exit. With that so did Dr. Deming. After both men were close to the sides of the stage, Dr. Deming said something like, “If you’re not going to listen to what I have to say, I will not continue. It is your responsibility to take up the call to action about improving this company, and if you don’t care enough to hear me out, there is no chance anything positive will happen. Neither you nor I have time for that.”

How much is it costing you or your client organizations using Dr. Deming’s formula?

I retired as a high school biology teacher about seven years ago. My primary charge, according to the curricular guides, was to transmit content. You know; actual facts, theories, principles, and the history of science.  It was also extremely important that students develop the skills of critical thinking using scientific thinking. This, of course, meant for the students to understand  “The Nature of Science.”  However, the goal of complete success had to include “turning kids on” to science.

I always assumed that students were satisfying just one of the purposes of listening that Ms. Thier has documented: to listen for their own personal gains, such as to get a good grade on a test or to gather enough information to further their education, or even choose a profession. (I taught Human Anatomy and Physiology. Many of my students now have successful careers in medicine.)  Ms Thier’s research on listening habits shows that likely my students were satisfying additional ways to listen beyond personal gains.

If I could get a redo of my career, I would modify my teaching to satisfy all the needs of the listener that Ms. Thier has identified. I am convinced that I would have been a much more effective teacher by relating presentations to a wider range of students’ listening preferences.

Ruminations will continue about how to utilize listening habits in the classroom.

Your comments about how you apply listening tools to the classroom are most welcome.