‘Nothing about us without us’ – addressing tokenism, conflict and exploitative practice in work with experts by experience
Involving the people closest to a social issue in the design, delivery, evaluation and investigation of services that address the issue is a well-established and important concept. Across different social services, government initiatives, research bodies and charities, we hear an array of terms such as ‘experts by experience’, ‘co-production’ and ‘lived experience practitioners’ to describe and highlight the importance of collaborating with service users or people affected by a specific challenge. And yet, the same pitfalls I’ve seen in the field of participatory work over the last twenty years keep tripping us up in both new and familiar ways. That’s not to say we haven’t made progress – I’ve seen some incredible examples of meaningful co-production. But there are sticky challenges to address in the planning and delivery of participatory services, and it feels important to talk about and address them.
The recent news story about conflict within the survivors involved in the Rotherham grooming gangs investigation was one of the things that got me thinking about this (the other is being in the process of designing new services for young adults, but more on that later). One of the elements that seems to have led to chaos and conflict in this investigation is a lack of clarity around scope, boundaries and purpose. Concerns about transparency were shared as part of the reasoning behind the resignation of two panel members last month. This raises the issue of clear communication, expectation setting and support at the outset of a piece of work (as well as throughout). There are potentially significant consequences, both positive and negative, for people taking part in processes like this, and it’s essential that they know what they are getting involved with, what is expected of them and what the project hopes or may be able to achieve.
Involving the people closest to a social issue in the design, delivery, evaluation and investigation of services that address the issue is a well-established and important concept. Across different social services, government initiatives, research bodies and charities, we hear an array of terms such as ‘experts by experience’, ‘co-production’ and ‘lived experience practitioners’ to describe and highlight the importance of collaborating with service users or people affected by a specific challenge. And yet, the same pitfalls I’ve seen in the field of participatory work over the last twenty years keep tripping us up in both new and familiar ways. That’s not to say we haven’t made progress – I’ve seen some incredible examples of meaningful co-production. But there are sticky challenges to address in the planning and delivery of participatory services, and it feels important to talk about and address them.
The recent news story about conflict within the survivors involved in the Rotherham grooming gangs investigation was one of the things that got me thinking about this (the other is being in the process of designing new services for young adults, but more on that later). One of the elements that seems to have led to chaos and conflict in this investigation is a lack of clarity around scope, boundaries and purpose. Concerns about transparency were shared as part of the reasoning behind the resignation of two panel members last month. This raises the issue of clear communication, expectation setting and support at the outset of a piece of work (as well as throughout). There are potentially significant consequences, both positive and negative, for people taking part in processes like this, and it’s essential that they know what they are getting involved with, what is expected of them and what the project hopes or may be able to achieve.
Disagreements between survivors on the panel also highlight the fact that people with lived experience each bring their own views, needs and challenges to a process of addressing the issues they have faced, and that it’s likely that they will have a significant emotional investment in seeing them addressed in a specific way. Group decision making processes in this context are reasonably likely to yield disagreements, and this may look and feel different for people whose lives are being examined and affected by the subject at hand than for the professionals who will likely do their best to ‘unplug’ from it all at the end of the working day. Particularly when the service, research project or investigation involves discussions of traumatic and distressing experiences, every aspect of the planning process needs to be considered with harm minimisation and ethical practice in mind. It seems so obvious to say that working with survivors or experts by experience needs to be handled with a careful, compassionate and trauma informed approach. And yet, there are clearly still barriers to this approach being consistently carried out. Let’s consider some of the challenges, and how we might begin to address them.
‘Performers to the stage’
I’m working with young adults to develop some new services that seek to address gaps in their support provision. At one of the projects I’m involved with, I recently heard someone referring to being asked to ‘put on the show’, in reference to the request to share personal stories, talk about the impact of the support they’re receiving, or offer helpful insights to decision makers. Many of the people who have both lived experience and the time, motivation and confidence to do so are asked to share their stories and ideas over and over again. We’ll come back to the potential psychological impact of this, but for now, there’s something to consider about what it means to push the most confident people to the front in participatory processes. There will always be barriers to access to overcome, especially when working with populations who face complex challenges and disadvantages. Often, the people we most need to hear from are those who are most excluded from participation for many reasons, including some that are outside of our sphere of influence. But it’s important to consider ways to address barriers where possible, and to support those with less confidence and fewer resources to be heard.
What might help?
-Pay/reimburse people for their participation
-Provide tailored support and training to help experts by experience feel ready to take part in project planning, public speaking etc.
-Ensure access needs are responded to and spaces are as accessible as possible (this includes asking people to say what they need in order to participate)
-Structure group discussions, meetings etc. in ways that offer everyone a chance to share their views (using a range of methods to capture opinions, ideas and stories)
-Consider how you will assess a participant’s readiness for a specific role and how you will safeguard them
The Trauma Industrial Complex
This is a reference to the recent book of the same name by Darren McGarvey. He explores the ways in which the proliferation of traumatic stories shared in popular culture is driven by a cynical industry capitalising on distress regardless of the consequences, and may play a role in preventing people from recovering from traumatic experiences. There’s a lot of nuance to be explored in this discussion (I recommend reading the book for a deep dive into it), but the key question in this context is about balancing the potential harms and benefits if we are asking people to discuss traumatic experiences. In order to prevent exploitation or retraumatising, there needs to be sufficient support in place, alongside high levels of control and choice for those with lived experience.
What might help?
-Consider potential harms and how to reduce them in the planning and risk assessment process
-Offer access or signposting to appropriate support services
-Ensure informed consent by offering clear, comprehensive and transparent information ahead of sign up
-Build in choice points and explicit permission to decide how much to share, withdraw consent to take part, take breaks, say no etc.
The funding game – tokenism and competing for resources
Co-produced work can sometimes look great on paper but lack the necessary support structures to be successful and ethical. When charities, social enterprises and public sector bodies are competing for limited resources by demonstrating an approach aligned with funders’ priorities, we risk unintentional tokenism. There is an element of ‘saying the magic words’ in order to be in the running for any given funding pot, with trends and priority areas coming around in cycles. Participatory work is almost always a useful addition to a bid for resources, though some decision makers are more strict than others in requiring evidence that this is a meaningful aspect of the work, rather than an additional box to tick in order to stay afloat.
Sometimes, service user involvement is a great idea, but needs more resourcing to support key people to be ready to step into, and feel clear about their roles, and to protect enough capacity for successful delivery. This is a potential vicious cycle in circumstances where a participatory approach is needed in order to access enough funding and resources to sustain the work, but the resources required to carry this out well are lacking.
What might help?
-Realistic budgeting and setting aside enough resources for meaningful participation work
-Working with funders to share challenges and feed back what’s realistic in terms of resources required
-Be honest about the level of participation that’s required/being carried out
Space to slow down and reflect
Over-stretched services might find that the first things to be sacrificed in survival mode are those that are considered to be add-ons and ‘nice to have’, rather than foundational. The danger here is what I would consider to be a misunderstanding of the importance of what might traditionally be considered ‘soft skills’, ‘wellbeing activities’ and the like. I know from experience that building in space and time for reflective practice can make – it allows us to learn from experience and mistakes, to check for signs of bias and tokenism, to prevent burnout and to carry out good safeguarding practice. This may not always feel like a priority when services are stretched to breaking point, but they are likely to be much more brittle without the support of well held reflective practice spaces.
What might help?
-Create or use a framework for reflective practice sessions
-Protect weekly or monthly time for reflective practice groups
-Offer/access relevant training and CPD that incorporates reflective space
Transparency and trust building
Open and transparent communication is a key aspect of building the trust necessary for good collaboration and transformative work. It may be the case that key decisions and information have yet to emerge, but keeping communication channels open at each stage can help to prevent confusion about what’s possible and what’s expected of everyone. I’ve recently encountered a situation where the nature of professional, peer support and participant roles in a project I joined were unclear, leading to confusion, disappointment, and long delays to project delivery. There were potential reputational damage issues to address as a result of the lack of clarity at the outset. This was preventable, and in this case, a result of decisions being made by people who lacked connection with the project and the context it operated in – this, in itself, offers an argument in favour of keeping decision making as close to those with lived and professional experience of an issue as possible.
What might help?
-Communicate clearly about the scope and boundaries of the project, and each person’s role within it
-Be transparent about the level of participation you need and are able to support
-Check in with participants throughout to elicit feedback, check understanding and address any concerns
I hope that this doesn’t serve to make co-production and participatory work seem too daunting and risky to take on – while there are many considerations and situations to handle carefully and respectfully, it’s very much worth the effort for many reasons. For starters, it feels presumptuous to design services and solutions for people affected by a specific issue without putting them at the centre. It’s also less likely to yield the best possible results. And I’ve also found that supporting the efforts of experts by experience to overcome huge and complex challenges has been some of the most rewarding and hopeful work I’ve been lucky enough to take part in.
Third sector burnout: How can we build sustainable services and treat helping professionals as people first?
I’ve recently been spending a lot of time in charity sector spaces where professionals are at their edges, resources are strained, and there are increasing divides between leadership and frontline staff who are being asked to stretch caseloads and boundaries to breaking point. Words and phrases like ‘burnout’, ‘dehumanising’ and ‘taken for granted’ abound in discussions with tired and disappointed helping professionals. The picture might look bleak for some right now, but there are still choices to be made and opportunities to take space to re-imagine how we can work together in a challenging socioeconomic climate to bring about more sustainable, meaningful change for service users and the workforce alike.
I’ve recently been spending a lot of time in charity sector spaces where professionals are at their edges, resources are strained, and there are increasing divides between leadership and frontline staff who are being asked to stretch caseloads and boundaries to breaking point. Words and phrases like ‘burnout’, ‘dehumanising’ and ‘taken for granted’ abound in discussions with tired and disappointed helping professionals. The picture might look bleak for some right now, but there are still choices to be made and opportunities to take space to re-imagine how we can work together in a challenging socioeconomic climate to bring about more sustainable, meaningful change for service users and the workforce alike.
Charities and not-for-profits being asked to do more with less isn’t a new phenomenon, but challenges seem to have intensified in recent years, and a crucial aspect of how this plays out is the way that those in the driving seat choose to allocate resources and how they see and communicate with their staff. The typical vicious cycle at the intersection of workplace wellbeing and funding/resource issues is an effect of trying to deliver the same level of service or respond to increasing need with fewer resources… Staff are expected to take on more direct work with service users, whether this means building up overtime (which should be taken back as Time Off in Lieu, if only they could find a time to take it back) or attempting to squeeze more work into their regular hours. And most often, they will do their best to make this happen, because they have undertaken this emotionally costly, challenging and often poorly paid work due to dedication to a cause and a desire to help. But this is an unsustainable way to work for most people, and the vicious cycle kicks in when staff burn out and need to take time off work to recover. Understaffing as a result of this puts additional strain on the service and the workforce left to cover the gaps, and there’s a risk of developing a revolving door of new, passionate and energetic workers coming on board, rolling up their sleeves, working hard beyond their hours and burning out, only to be replaced with the next person willing to take on the challenge.
Dedicated service managers might experience a similar phenomenon, as the need for additional support of their teams increases, and the gaps in service provisions have to be covered. This tends to have a demonstrably negative impact on vulnerable service users, who need consistency and time to build trusting relationships with the professionals supporting them. That seems to offer good enough leverage to encourage decision makers to address the issue, since providing services that have a positive impact on their beneficiaries’ lives is the purpose of most third sector organisations. And this purpose is compromised when the wellbeing and humanity of the workforce is discounted, given the impact on service delivery. It feels uncomfortably utilitarian to point out that workplaces should value and support their staff on the basis that people are their most valuable resource. While that may be true, there’s also a question of values at play here – if organisations aim to provide person-centred support and trauma-informed practice, and to value people seen as experts by experience, what might prevent them from responding well when their staff express feelings of not being heard, valued or supported?
An astute colleague and mentor recently summed the situation up as a reliance on the third sector mentality of saying yes where everyone else has said no. Charitable organisations tend to exist to plug the gaps left by systems and governments that are failing to adequately support their people, hence the culture of needing to find a way to make things work, since our ‘no’ might leave a vulnerable person out of options. Senior leaders may also face the additional pressure of competing for the funding that keeps service users supported and staff in a job, since decreasing resources and increasing need means an environment where organisations race to provide services for less than their partners/competitors. This is another ‘yes’ that means stretching boundaries and working harder to meet increasingly complex needs. Decision makers may be working hard to absorb as much of the impact as possible, and at times, this might lead to feelings of defensiveness and frustration when frontline staff and middle managers express dissatisfaction about the challenges they are facing. A context where both resources and capacities are strained can become a tinderbox for conflict, empathy fatigue, burnout and staffing issues, not to mention reputational damage and further unintended impact on service users.
This may be a representation of an organisation or sector in crisis, rather than the day-to-day reality of many not-for-profits. But there’s a sense of these issues becoming increasingly likely as so many face difficult decisions about how to stay afloat in stormy waters. So, what can be done to address this? I’d love to offer the mythical magic bullet response here, but of course, complex issues faced by diverse groups require nuanced and situation specific responses. However, here are some questions that might go some way to starting to get unstuck and look towards longer term change:
1. What partnership opportunities might exist or be developed to promote a more collaborative approach to providing services, sharing resources and addressing the wider issues?
2. How honest are we being with funders about what can realistically be delivered within the available budget on offer? What opportunities do we have to work with them towards addressing discrepancies between needs and resources?
3. When staff concerns and work related wellbeing issues arise, are we genuinely responding and collaborating in a way that is consistent with our values and approach? What might be getting in the way of this, and what resources or support might we seek to facilitate brave and compassionate spaces to address these issues?
4. When might we need to say no or adjust what can be delivered when resources are limited?
5. What campaigning and communications might need to be put in place to push for increased funding, policy change etc.?
6. Have we considered workplace wellbeing in the context of working conditions and increased living costs, as well as offering EAP programmes? Can staff delivering highly skilled work in challenging conditions afford to live on the salaries on offer?
7. How are we involving service users and staff in change processes and decision making? How can we do this in a way that genuinely values their work and does not contribute to burnout?
8. What assumptions might we be making that could be holding us back? What opportunities are there to challenge and move past these assumptions?
Ultimately, there are issues that need to be tackled in the context of sector-wide collaboration and transparent communication with those who hold the purse strings about what’s needed and what’s possible in the current climate, rather than overstretched leaders in survival mode participating in a race to the bottom. And then, there are the human relationships at the heart of the matter. Community and helping relationships are the fundamental point of most organisations working in this field, so it feels especially important to find the capacity and the will to engage with the most sticky challenges in a compassionate, trauma-informed way that positions everyone as skilled fellow humans on a shared mission. This is easier said than done when people are at their edges, which leads back to the problem of overworking and preventing burnout. It may feel like there’s no time and space to slow down and engage with this right now, but it’s worth framing this work as just as important as the day-to-day running of services. With healthier boundaries, recovery time and opportunities to re-regulate in place, it’s far easier for dedicated professionals to roll up their sleeves and collectively do what they do best, which is getting stuck into complex challenges and finding ways through difficult and distressing territory towards recovery and change.
The Myth of Psychological Safety – the importance and limits of creating a ‘safe’ space
I talk a lot about psychological safety in the context of my work. Lately, I’ve heard a lot of discussion about the concept being misleading, or even taking on mythical status as something that might not be possible to promise in therapeutic, personal development and organisational development spaces. So, what does psychological safety mean, and what are its limitations, if we can offer it at all?
I talk a lot about psychological safety in the context of my work. Lately, I’ve heard a lot of discussion about the concept being misleading, or even taking on mythical status as something that might not be possible to promise in therapeutic, personal development and organisational development spaces. So, what does psychological safety mean, and what are its limitations, if we can offer it at all?
The expression ‘this is a safe space’ is often used in group and one-to-one environments from organisational development programmes to coaching rooms and therapeutic spaces. This usually seems to be offered with an aim of reassuring people that they can be themselves and say what they want to say in confidence without worrying about being judged. I’ll go on to explore why this is a challenging and potentially misleading promise to make, but first, let’s define what we might mean when we consider this type of ‘safety’. Amy Edmonson defines psychological safety as "The belief that one will not be punished or humiliated for speaking up with ideas, questions, concerns, or mistakes, and that the team is safe for interpersonal risk taking". This is focused specifically on a workplace context, and considers a psychologically safe environment as something that is necessary in order to promote creativity, innovation and problem solving. But the concept is relevant to any environment where people might be asked to take emotional and social risks, such as sharing or processing traumatic experiences, discussing sensitive and divisive subjects, or taking part in an activity that might make people feel vulnerable and exposed (in my experience, many somatic or embodiment based practices have an element of this).
For me, there are links between psychological safety and belonging. My experience of psychological safety is also an embodied one – I feel that I can take off some of the ‘body armour’ that I might subconsciously be wearing (in the form of muscle tension), and also that I can show up authentically as myself without looking over my shoulder for signs of danger. That is possible in a social environment when there’s a sense of connection with others, a genuine feeling that I will be met with unconditional positive regard, and a sense that, if there’s challenge or disagreement, we can get through it with minimal damage to relationships. This speaks to that sense of belonging and beginning to cultivate trusting relationships. We might achieve that through good contracting, informally building rapport, people sharing honestly about their own views and experiences, and those holding the space demonstrating consistency and reliability. All of this takes time and effort – the psychological safety isn’t just present in the room at the outset, but rather, is something that we can purposefully co-create. This is related to the concept of the ‘safe container’, which is about creating a physical and psychological space in which people feel that whatever they bring can be held and contained. A safe container might offer features like privacy and quiet, colours and textures designed to promote a sense of calm, and clear boundaries around what happens in the space, when and with whom. It may also be facilitated by practitioners who are able to demonstrate that they are skilled, compassionate and resourced enough to ‘hold’ whatever ideas, emotions and revelations arise in the space.
I’m very sensitive to the ‘feeling in the room’ and attuned to signs of feeling more or less safe and comfortable in a space, so I hugely value efforts to create a sense of psychological safety. However, I also believe that we need to add more nuance to offers of ‘safe spaces’. Those of us facilitating spaces that encourage people to be courageous and take social and emotional risks have a level of power and influence that it’s important to acknowledge, but there are limits to what we can control. In a group environment, we can collaborate to create a contract where everyone agrees to actively listen, withhold (or at least interrogate) judgement, and hold others’ confidentiality. And, should the social contract be breached, we can step in to address the situation, but it would be wildly unrealistic to guarantee that a participant will not be judged while they are sharing a personal experience or opinion. For some people, the impact of feeling judged might be negligible, while for others, this may be a deeply distressing experience. We can’t know everything that people are bringing into the space with them, and we can’t anticipate and avoid every possible trauma trigger. Some people’s traumatic experiences are significant enough to leave them feeling a constant sense of being unsafe – in this case, the best we can offer is to try to mitigate factors that might contribute to or exacerbate these feelings. One aspect of working with trauma that can help is to let people know that they have agency and control. A sense of increased psychological safety can be developed by finding a way of working that is based on co-creation and that gives permission for participants to speak up for their needs, do what they need to do in order to regulate themselves, and help to shape the session. This doesn’t negate or erase any traumatic experiences that have led to a person feeling unsafe, but it can be genuinely reassuring to feel more in control and less ‘done to’.
It seems clear that there are things we can do in order to increase a sense of belonging, safety and calm in a given space, but that there are limits to what we can realistically promise. So, is the concept of offering psychological safety unhelpful enough to be retired? I’m not convinced that psychological safety is a myth, per se. I’d suggest that there is perhaps a spectrum of sensations and emotions that might be experienced as a sense of safety or danger. And while there may be some common themes for many of us, each person will have a different experience around what they need in order to feel safe in a given environment, as well as a different interpretation and level of engagement with their own feelings around this. I’m reminded of a previous work situation where there were competing needs within my team in terms of what each of us needed in order to feel safe during challenging discussions. Some people felt less safe when they perceived tension due to unexpressed thoughts and feelings, while others felt anxious and confronted when met with direct communication about what others were thinking and feeling. This demonstrates the complexity of trying to create a space where everyone feels safe – what represents calm for one person may be a source of stress for another. So, if we can’t promise to create the conditions for feeling safe, what can we do?
Encouraging and nurturing contracting and negotiation that offers a sense of shared responsibility for (sometimes competing) needs to be met can be helpful – it’s each person’s responsibility to advocate for their own needs and to try to accommodate others’ needs. But that’s easier said than done in a space where there is a lack of trust in those who hold power and influence, so it’s important that those holding the space are able to support negotiations where necessary, and to take people’s stated needs seriously. Environments that support people to develop self-awareness and to use the resources they need in order to self-regulate and process difficult emotions may also yield better outcomes in terms of people feeling safe enough to share their authentic thoughts, feelings and experiences. Ultimately, here’s what I suggest for those holding space for others:
1. That we don’t make promises we can’t keep – ‘this is a safe space’ would be an example of such a promise. Instead, we might state that we’re aiming to offer a ‘safer’ space, or one where people feel able to be themselves and express themselves with courage.
2. That we support others to develop the awareness, skills and tools to feel safer in a given environment. This might include becoming aware that a space is unsafe or wrong for them, and taking action accordingly.
3. That we see developing psychologically safer spaces as a collaborative project and a shared responsibility. We can work together to cultivate conditions where people are more likely to feel able to take risks, feel seen and heard, and experience a sense of belonging.
If you’d like to discuss how to create spaces in which people feel seen, heard, valued and as psychologically safe as possible, why not book a free exploratory call with me?
Essential Skills for Socially Conscious Leadership - Using the Seven Cs Model to Drive Change
In recent years, there’s been a cultural shift in many parts of the working world, from top-down, ‘command and control’ leadership to more socially conscious, collaborative approaches to leading teams. For some, this may still be seen as a fluffy optional extra or an invite to waste precious time by crowd-sourcing decision making processes. But I’d argue that developing leaders who are emotionally intelligent, skilled communicators with good boundaries and socially conscious values is a necessity, not an option. Even now, it’s often still the case that career paths can involve becoming proficient in a specific role, then being promoted into a leadership role on the strength of experience that may or may not require good people skills. If organisations don’t invest in supporting emerging leaders to develop the relational skills necessary to support healthy, happy, successful teams, they risk their people’s wellbeing, the quality of their work and the potential for innovation and creativity. So, what are these skills and why are they important?
In recent years, there’s been a cultural shift in many parts of the working world, from top-down, ‘command and control’ leadership to more socially conscious, collaborative approaches to leading teams. For some, this may still be seen as a fluffy optional extra or an invite to waste precious time by crowd-sourcing decision making processes. But I’d argue that developing leaders who are emotionally intelligent, skilled communicators with good boundaries and socially conscious values is a necessity, not an option. Even now, it’s often still the case that career paths can involve becoming proficient in a specific role, then being promoted into a leadership role on the strength of experience that may or may not require good people skills. If organisations don’t invest in supporting emerging leaders to develop the relational skills necessary to support healthy, happy, successful teams, they risk their people’s wellbeing, the quality of their work and the potential for innovation and creativity. So, what are these skills and why are they important?
One framework that might be helpful in defining good social leadership is the ‘7 Cs’ – part of the social change model of leadership development created by the Higher Education Research Institute of the University of California Los Angeles. This model highlights that anyone can develop these qualities and be a leader, regardless of their position in a hierarchy. It identifies seven qualities and skills that socially conscious leaders need to have in order to succeed. They are:
Consciousness of self
Self-awareness is an important starting point in any successful endeavour, especially as it relates to being and working with others. Understanding our own preferences, needs, areas for growth and development and communication styles can help to prevent misunderstandings and conflict, as well as supporting each person in a team to play to their strengths. Of course, being aware of our own needs and preferences is only the beginning of the story. I’ve often encountered examples of leaders and teams taking quizzes to determine their communication preferences, personality structure or archetype, only to then use their findings as a way to absolve themselves of unhelpful behaviours and responses – ‘what can I do, I’m a [insert category here]!’ Don’t’ get me wrong, I’m not here to denigrate any of these categorisations – they are as useful as their application. Ideally, self-awareness will be an impetus for further personal development, asking for support where needed, and negotiating with others about how to get the best from communications with us. When I was training in Performance Psychology, my supervisor had me develop what was essentially a ‘how-to’ manual that explained the quirks, needs and preferences that might help others to work well with me. I’ve never handed over the physical document to a new contact (perhaps a slightly overwhelming prospect). But it has often been helpful for me to explain to people I line managed that, for example, my brain needs time to transition between tasks, and as such, if I’m focusing on a task and am interrupted unexpectedly with a request, my initial response might be a blank stare or a clipped tone. I’ll generally manage to mentally change gear after a minute or so, but I’ve found that it’s kinder and more efficient to negotiate ways to check my availability for a chat, rather than launching into a discussion of which I’ll miss the first few sentences. This doesn’t mean that I have no responsibility to do my part in getting the most from both my brain and my relationships with colleagues, but in this case, the thing I’ve developed an awareness of and communicated to others is related to an ADHD trait – it’s not something I can easily change. That is to say, sometimes we can become aware of a tendency, communicate it and realise that we need to make a change within ourselves. And sometimes, it’s enough to develop the awareness, communicate a need and negotiate a workaround.
Congruence
This is a core concept in many therapeutic schools of thought. It’s about honesty, integrity and alignment of thoughts, feelings and behaviours. We are social animals, evolved to be (for the most part) sensitive to social dynamics and signs of potential conflict. As such, many people are at least subconsciously aware that something feels ‘off’ when someone is being inauthentic. When our language, behaviours, body language, micro-expressions and signs of energy levels seem to contradict each other, trust can be eroded. This might call to mind the debate about ‘bringing your whole self to work’ and how much authenticity is appropriate in specific work related situations. We often have a concept of ‘professionalism’ which suggests that we should leave our real emotions and thoughts at the door in favour of a more polished version that carries less risk of conflict or discomfort. I’m a fan of diplomacy, professional boundaries and appropriate challenge, and I don’t think these are particularly at odds with an approach to leadership that gives permission and encouragement for leaders to be unashamedly human, with emotions, flaws and the ability to come back from making mistakes. This permission can help us to cultivate more congruence – we might feel more able to say things like ‘I’m really sorry – I do want to help you with this but I’m a feeling bit overwhelmed with working on task x and might struggle to give you my full attention right now. Can we find a time where we can sit down and really get stuck into problem solving the issue?’ or ‘I’m noticing a bit of resistance in myself as you talk about this idea. I think I need to go away and explore what that’s about – I don’t want to shut you down. Can you give me a bit of time to ponder it and then we can discuss it again over a coffee later today?’
Commitment
This seems like an obvious point in the context of good leadership, but commitment to the cause is essential. Given that, as previously mentioned, we’re all human, there will likely be times when we feel less motivated or more overwhelmed with our work and find it difficult to connect with our commitment. There’s a real watch-out for burnout here – if we begin to feel a sense of apathy and disconnection from the mission, vision and values we’re working towards, and struggle to find compassion for the people we’re supporting, we need to listen to the warning signs and take action (including the sort of action that leads to taking genuinely restorative breaks). But when not at risk of burning out, it’s important for leaders to be able to find and demonstrate motivation and some level of passion for their work. Personally, I was never especially passionate about management roles in and of themselves, but I’ve always loved supporting people to develop and recognise their skills, find their passion and bring their unique skills and insights to their work. I loved using a coaching approach in my leadership work, even before I trained as a coach. That passion offered enough leverage to get me through the aspects of management roles that I found less inspiring. Even in leadership contexts where the commitment isn’t related to the core activities of a business or organisation, a deep commitment to supporting people is essential.
Common purpose
Ideally, establishing shared values and purpose begins at recruitment. And it falls to leaders to support others to connect to that sense of purpose, particularly when things are feeling difficult or stuck. This can link back to congruence – it’s worth interrogating and discussing how (and indeed, if) an organisation or team’s stated values and purpose actually live beyond the pages they’re stated on. And there may be a need to establish a set of specific values, aims and purposes beyond those of a wider organisation – what do people really care about, feel motivated by and want to get out of a project? Again, the concept of leverage is often useful when motivation is low or it seems there is no end in sight – how can we connect with the wider purpose and the reasons behind our efforts? There are a couple of caveats attached to this, however: firstly, it’s important not to abuse or over-use this tactic in a bid to push people beyond what can reasonably be expected of them. Having spent around two decades working in the third sector, I’m very familiar with the ways that people’s passion for social justice can be exploited and used as a reason for being overworked and underpaid. And secondly, it feels important to inject a little realism (or perhaps cynicism?) about the realities of the working world for many people. We live under a capitalist system for the time being, and selling our labour is necessary for survival. Not everyone takes on a job out of a sense of passion for a cause, and many people prefer to show up, tackle the tasks at hand, and go home to enjoy the remaining hours in their day. So I’m not suggesting that we need everyone to demonstrate commitment to a shared purpose at all times; but if we’re thinking about the sort of work that asks for shared values and commitment to a cause, establishing a good fit at recruitment and support to connect to purpose are key. A final watch-out here is conflating shared values with groupthink – while it's important to have everyone pull together in the same direction, conformity and a restrictive sense of ‘culture fit’ can really deprive a team of diverse perspectives.
Controversy with civility
This is about appropriate challenge and leaning into discomfort without creating a hostile working environment. It’s a difficult thing to achieve and, I believe, very much worth investing the effort into. As mentioned above, a sense of common purpose doesn’t negate disagreement, conflicting needs and challenge. These will inevitably arise (and if not, that may present its own set of concerns to be addressed), and how leaders respond and help to cultivate a safe enough environment to contain them is crucial. I’ve found myself in groups of leaders where the majority view was that challenge and disagreement were negative and to be avoided at all costs. I found this deeply uncomfortable, as it seemed obvious to me that this would likely lead to festering resentments, a lack of congruence and missed opportunities for learning and growth. I’m very committed to creating environments where difficult conversations can be held with compassion and curiosity… and yet, I’m also quite conflict avoidant, so I understand the urge to smooth things over, rather than get them out in the open. I believe that good social leadership involves being grounded, compassionate, sensitive and robust enough to make and discuss difficult decisions, to hear challenge from a place of openness, to speak up when something feels wrong or unjust and to encourage others to do likewise. ‘Civility’ in this case isn’t about polite avoidance, a stiff upper lip approach or an aversion to disagreement; but rather, might involve things like the use of ‘I statements’ (where we take responsibility for our own reactions to others and start with describing our own feelings, e.g. ‘I feel frustrated when you keep missing and pushing back this deadline, because it stops me being able to do my next task. I’d prefer it if you could give me an honest assessment of what’s getting in your way, whether you need any additional support, and when you realistically will be able to get it done’). It might involve unpacking our own sense of defensiveness when we’re challenged and taking time to formulate a more thoughtful response. It might involve some reflective work around your organisational culture around challenge and controversy.
Collaboration
Collaboration has become something of a buzzword over the years, and with good reason. There are levels of collaborative work, from consulting with and incorporating others’ ideas and views into planning a project, right through to structures with flattened hierarchies and equal decision making power. But the spirit of collaboration in any context is about genuinely valuing each person’s contribution, understanding the benefits of bringing different ideas, perspectives, experiences, skills and ways of working together, and making space for others. Sometimes, collaboration can be the most effective, efficient and energising way of working, because it can allow people to draw on their strengths and to support each other. Alternatively, it can feel slow and laborious compared to a more top-down or stoic ‘I’ll just do it myself’ approach. But the benefits tend to far outweigh the frustrations of inviting colleagues further into decision-making, planning and carrying out tasks. Multiple studies have shown that collaborative approaches increase healthy working relationships, fostering an environment where trust and good communication grow. And that collaboration supports significant improvements in innovation and business outcomes in general. What good collaboration looks like in practice will vary from team to team and from project to project – it’s worth taking time to do the groundwork around this, as well as considering factors such as whether increased responsibility within a particular project will add pressure to colleagues’ capacity (in this case, it’s worth considering how their time and workload might be protected).
Citizenship
This seems to me like the most nebulous of the 7 Cs, but it offers a valuable opportunity to think beyond the confines of the project or organisation that the socially conscious leader is part of. It’s about the leader, and the team they are part of, connecting to their wider community and society, and considering what they might contribute. How might we utilise the skills and insights that we have learned through leadership development to benefit the communities we are part of? And how might the leadership work that we are doing be part of the change we want to see in the world? It can be helpful to step back from time to time and look at the bigger picture, re-establish our goals and vision, and decide whether we need to make any changes or new commitments in service of this. However, I do acknowledge that this can feel like a huge responsibility, and am conscious of a need to work within our sphere of influence without over-stretching ourselves. It seems possible to hold both positions though – we can aim to make change on a realistic, sustainable level that protects us from burnout, while considering how this links to the bigger picture and how we might best use our skills to be a small part of bigger changes.