honesty

TRUTH WITHOUT APOLOGY

Friend and colleague Mark Levy, author of Accidental Genius  agreed to give us feedback onour most recent newsletter, which included advice for “A Better Way to Deliver Difficult News.”  “That advice is refreshingly harsh,” he told us

Harsh? Ouch! Sometimes the truth DOES hurt.

We shouldn’t have been surprised. Others have been known to describe our message that way, only without the “refreshingly” modifier.

As we continued to talk, Mark backpedaled a bit, saying a better description would have been “unapologetically honest.”  He said he understood why asking people to “live the experience of truth” at work would be a concept people might turn from.

“It’s not like you're telling people they can get anything they want if they just visualize,” Mark said. “Part of the reason I said ‘unapologetically honest’ is because I am always apologizing for telling the truth.”

What spurs the impulse to apologize for being honest, we wondered. Then we had a revelation — people never apologize for telling the truth unless they are uncomfortable telling it, or they think it is something that might be difficult to hear.

When we talk to people about the rewards of telling the truth as a business practice, it is common for reactions to include fear, suspicion, and skepticism. In the context of most organizations, “telling the truth” almost always has a negative connotation.

If you start a conversation with “Can I tell you the truth?” what usually happens? Typically,  a step back. People brace themselves. They look for something to hold onto so the force of hearing something unpleasant won’t knock them flat.

How have we managed to create organizations where “telling the truth” is seen as a radical act? Why do people consider it as unpleasant as administering a dose of castor oil?

Nobody requests permission to tell the truth (or apologizes for it) if the message is: “I think you’re a terrific leader.” They don’t think twice about delivering a truthful “I really appreciate all the extra hours you’ve been putting in to make this project successful.”

But when the truth is difficult — “things aren’t going so well” or “we need more from you” — people are reluctant to deliver it. And that raises another difficult issue: People are often equally unwilling to hear the truth.

Helping people understand the business reasons for delivering difficult truths helps develop organizations where people can tell each other the truth.  Investing equal energy in coaching people to hear the truth — even if it doesn’t always feel good — fosters reflection, self-awareness and resiliency

NOTE: We’d really like to hear your stories about truth telling. Relate a time when telling the truth felt too risky, and how it turned out. Or an example of when you told the truth even in the face of your fear. What happened?

RENOVATE A RELATIONSHIP

Photo by hoozone/iStock / Getty Images
Photo by hoozone/iStock / Getty Images

We met when we were 12, and through teenage angst, volatile relationships, two marriages (each) and decades of housing each other's confidences, we seemed to be through.

Radio silence. The rift we didn't think was possible began after my third marriage and continued for years. Then one day my phone rang, her name in my caller ID. I answered.

Both of us wanted to mend our relationship, but I knew I didn't want to return to the relationship we had before. I wanted to renegotiate, and happily, she was willing. After several weeks of intense, emotional conversations we were back on track and have been ever since. I'm grateful.

Constancy and consistency are rare in relationships, whether at work, in families or among friends. As we grow and change, it makes sense that some relationships no longer fit so well, like that pair of too-tight jeans. Letting go of those that no longer serve us could be the answer. But when we want or need relationships, renegotiating boundaries or ground rules can be a way to save them.

At work, for instance, you may not have the option of abandoning a relationship that isn’t working well. In families or friendships, history and love might keep you bound, but you long to shift the ways you relate. A conversation of renewal can help.

Here is an outline of the conversation I had with my friend. In ourhistory, I had often been indirect — or even untruthful — and put my needs aside in favor of hers. The trust we once shared was eroded.

 If you choose to have this kind of conversation, authentically choosing goodwill and connection is foundational. If you feel things heating up, agree to take a break so you both can refocus on your connection and your intention for the relationship.

  • Be clear about the purpose of the conversation: “I want to talk with you about some difficulties (or changes I’d like to see) in our relationship. Are you willing?”

  • Name the issue: “My experience is we don’t feel comfortable telling each other the truth.”

  • Ask for their views of the issue and your contribution: “How do you see the situation? What have I contributed to the lack of trust between us?”

  • Extend understanding and own your contribution: “You’re right. I haven’t always been honest for fear of making you angry or losing the relationship. In addition, sometimes I have told you one thing, and then talked to others about how I really feel.”

  • Frame choices about how to proceed: “The way I see it, we can continue this way or make conscious changes to create trust in our relationship. That’s what I would like. What choices do you see?”

  • State your intention to make it work: “I am committing to tell you the truth as I see it, and to hear the truth from you without getting defensive or combative.”

  • Ask for agreement and commitment: “Are you willing to make a similar commitment? Are there other commitments you see we should be making here?”

  • Talk about future steps or another conversation: “My intention is to start changing today. But I’d like to keep this conversation going. How would you like to proceed?

  • Factor in feedback: If you see me slipping back in to old habits and patterns, I'd like you to call me out on that. How would you like me to give you feedback?

Forgiveness and letting go of the past are essential. And don't expect major changes overnight, especially if you have a long history, But a conversation like this can be a great start for living out your intentions authentically. It will create relationships you can believe in with the people who are important to you.

 

"BRUTAL" AND "HONESTY" ARE A BAD COUPLE

  • After six hours of “brutally honest” conversations between quarterback Brett Favre and Green Bay Packers management, they parted ways.
  • Jim Collins, who authored From Good to Great, says one of the key differences between good companies and great ones is their ability to “confront the brutally honest facts.”
  • One company uses “brutal” in its statement of values:We believe in "brutal conversations"; the ability to be honest, direct and challenging with each other while always being professional. We will never tell yo u "what you want to hear", but we will tell you what you need to hear.

What does the word “brutal” add to that statement? And how do you square “being professional” with being brutal? Let’s look behind the cliché and see it for what it is.

Merriam-Webster defines brutal like this: Befitting a brute: as a: grossly ruthless or unfeeling b: cruel, cold-blooded c: harsh, severe d: unpleasantly accurate and incisive.

Why would honesty have to be brutal to be effective? Does the truth have to leave us bloodied and reeling in order for it to have an impact? Truth can be hard to hear even when delivered with kindness and goodwill. When people held up a mirror for me, and I often didn’t find the reflection particularly attractive. But that was about me, not the honesty of the reflection.

In my experience, the times the truth became brutal – whether delivered or received – had to do with a desire to land a punch. The intention was to hurt, or to exercise authority, or deliver bad news in a cruel way.

Honesty? By all means. Brutal? You'd need to build a strong case to convince me that's necessary. Perhaps we could start thinking about “compassionately honest conversations.”

Or better yet, we could wish for the day when “conversations” wouldn’t need to be modified by the word “honest.”