How My Approach to Clients Has Evolved

I've been a cooperative group process consultant for 28 years. Over that time I've made a number of adjustments to how I approach clients I'm seeing for the first time. While I have an a la carte menu of 12-14 training workshops (which has gradually grown from about three when I first started), most of the time I'm asked to tailor a program to the client. Generally that means there's a specific problem that the community has struggled to successfully address on its own, and there's the desire to learn how to handle that issue better in the future.

There is also a predictable range of support for bringing me in—all the way from yippee! to why do we need him? My liaisons to the group are generally from the yippee! crowd (which means that resistance may be understated) and I can count on the under-enthused to either skip the meetings that I'll facilitate (not infrequently they arrange for an "unavoidable" road trip during my visit) or constituting a skeptical peanut gallery. It goes with the territory.

My job is to arrive, sell myself as someone competent, and pull a rabbit out of the hat—all within 24-48 hours. Over my nearly three decades as an out-of-town gunslinger, I've adjusted my approach in some significant ways, all of which have increased the likelihood of my being effective. Here are half a dozen ways in which I work differently today:

I. I like to watch
It is often highly beneficial to observe a group in action before I start facilitating. While I rarely get the chance to do this (we're paying you to watch?) I can often see details and areas of struggle through observation that the group is not even aware of. Further, it helps me land my points about the theory of how to run good meetings if I can refer to actual, awkward moments while they're still fresh in everyone's mind.

II. I like to interview members up front
It used to be that if I was hired to work Saturday and Sunday that I'd show up Friday evening, and I'd jump into it from a cold start. Not any more. 

I've learned that it's better, if possible, to do considerable spade work before the plenaries begin. Talking with designated liaisons is good, but there's a danger of getting too little breadth of viewpoint relying solely on one or two spokespeople, plus I've discovered that it can help put everyone at ease if I arrive on site a couple days early (say Wednesday evening) for the express purpose of meeting with group members one-on-one or one-on-two for the purpose of their telling me directly what they think I ought to know, and to give them a chance to ask any questions about me. 

Not only do I get a richer picture of what's going on (having heard from many more voices), but the group feels that much more comfortable with me because I've already demonstrated my ability to listen carefully and to understand the complexities of community life. Thus, on Saturday morning I can hit the ground running.

Though I don't generally charge for those extra days, the payoff is huge. What happens in the pre-interviews? I generally ask people to address questions like the following:
 
o  What’s precious to you about living at community x? 

o  What challenges exist at community x for you, such that if they were resolved it would make your life there measurably better?
 
o  Is there any kind of support or improvement in community life such that if you got it, you’d be motivated to invest more personal time in the community?
 
o  What do you want me to know about community x?
 
o  How do you think we should focus the plenary time?

In all of the above, please be as specific as possible.

III. I try to combine theory and demonstration
Time is always at a premium—there is a definite limit to how many topics on which we can usefully engage. One of the ways I've learned to stretch things is by laying out theory (say of how to work constructively with conflict, or an effective way to manage an issue through plenary), followed immediately by a demonstration of the theory on a live example. That way the group gets both progress on the particular concern, as well as a demonstration of the pattern that they can apply to future concerns of the same ilk.Two for one.

While this approach entails some risk (what if the demonstration doesn't go so well?—it is, after all, unscripted), it's a wonderfully effective way to ground the learning. Groups will tend to remember the example more vividly than the theory.

IV. I write reports
I took me several years to understand that groups typically absorb only about 20% of what they're taught orally. Too much is happening in a tight time frame for all of it to be absorbed. 

This led me to make two important adjustments: 
a) Developing handouts to make plain the theory I want to teach, so that they can be referred to after I'm gone.

b) Writing an extensive report (that I commit to delivering within two weeks of the live work) that provides an overview of what happened, my commentary about what happened, and my observations and recommendations about where the group might usefully work in the work future.

That way, much more of the good that we accomplish has legs.

V. I like to meet with the process folks early and late
If possible I try to meet with the process folks (or facilitation team) of the host group. They are typically the group that will be responsible for making system changes (or at least shepherding the conversations about changes) and my preference is to meet with them both first thing when I arrive on site (so I understand well their needs and how I can best support them) and then again after the plenaries are over so that we can discuss why I made the choices I did and how I can support them carrying on after I depart.

This step makes it much more likely that forward momentum will be sustained.

VI. I will not duck the hard stuff
While there's a fair amount of pressure on me to be effective (the community has invested considerable time and money in working with me, and, understandably, they want value for their investment), I've learned that it's my job to tackle the hard issues, to the extent that the group is willing to go there. Sometimes this means taking the issues to a level of examination that is beyond what was asked of me, but once it's in the room, there you are.

While this doesn't always go well, I feel it's my duty to make an attempt if I can see a constructive angle of approach. One of the mantras I pass along to clients is "Have faith in the process." So this is a matter of integrity and walking my own talk. (Group process work is seldom dull.)

Groupthink and Creativity in Community

I recently received this comment about my blog of Jan 3, Working in the We Hours:

Nice. Still though, there is research that says, people are not the most creative in groups (as in brainstorming). But rather when they have a chance to (also) brainstorm privately. I would love to know your views on that, and on groupthink more specifically. I find that close communities, whether traditional or ICs, for all their virtues, promote groupthink via peer pressure. The ol' "I have to live with these people, so I better not be honest." 

This is a good topic. Cooperative culture is not about producing and maintaining a mind meld. Nonetheless, you do want people to exercise appropriate discipline, by which I mean:

o  Speaking on topic
o  Avoiding repetition
o  Keeping an open mind (especially when someone says something surprising or a odds with your views)
o  Looking for ways to connect ideas, rather than pitting them against each other

There is an important difference between not rocking the boat (going along to get along) and having a positive attitude about finding a mutually agreeable path forward.

In my experience, the key element is the way the group handles the Discussion and Proposal phases when wrangling with an issue. [For more detail about these phases, see Consensus from Soup to Nuts.]

1. First of all it's important that the group treats them as separate phases, to be completed in sequence. That's both because you want different energy for the two phases, and because you need the output of Discussion phase to know what screens to use for assessing proposals.

2. In Discussion phase you're trying to identify the factors that a good response to the issue needs to take into account—setting the table, as it were, for the problem solving that will come next. By keeping proposal generating assiduously separate from factor identification, it protects the group from short circuiting that can occur when by dancing back and forth between the two. If someone mentions a potential factor in brainstorm mode and it's immediately followed by a statement undercutting the suggestion, or by riffing on how to address it, that either dampens creativity or diffuses energy—neither of which is a good thing.

For brainstorms to work well they need to be free flowing and unevaluated until after all the input has been gathered. Critical comments midstream inhibit the flow, which directly relates to the question about the susceptibility of intentional communities to groupthink. The way to avoid a gravitational pull toward conformity (groupthink) is the adequate care and feeding of differences: are they welcomed, or attacked? 

In a voting environment ideas have to survive in a shark tank, where the operant rule is survival of the fittest. The potential of cooperative culture is not realized unless it is robust enough to make it safe for members to express dissent. To be clear, members should always be thinking about what's best for the group, but that should not produce lock-step thinking, or deferral to what the leaders say.

Here are other thoughts about ways communities can be on guard against groupthink:

3. If whole group brainstorming doesn't work for some members of the group, you can mix it up by doing it first in small groups and then aggregating the results in the whole circle (sure there will be a lot of overlap, but you will have protected some aspects of creativity). Alternately, you could give everyone a sheet of paper and 10 minutes to silently brainstorm before the ideas are collected. The value in not doing either of these things is the potential for one person's answer to creatively trigger an inspiration in another. This kind of synergy is sharply curtailed (or even lost) if brainstorms are always done in small groups or alone.

Sometimes you have to be creative about formats in order to protect creative input.
 
4. All of this said, it's true that there can be pressure to conform in intentional communities (this would all go a lot easier if you'd just go with the flow). I think this comes from arrested development of the group's culture. In particular, being stuck in what Scott Peck styled "false community," the first of four stages:

false community
emptiness
chaos
true community

In false community, members act nice with one another before a solid basis for connection has been established (fake it til you make it). Dissent is suppressed, and expressing disagreement is seen as a social faux pas. There is the veneer of unity, but it's brittle and shallow. In true community it's OK to disagree, because there is sufficient social fabric for the group to hold dissent without tearing the group apart.

Seen through this lens, communities that are stuck in the first stage may indeed be susceptible to groupthink, but that shouldn't be the case in groups that have reached stage four, where the closing quote from my reader gets turned on its head:

I have to live with these people, so I better be honest.

Talking About Aging in Community

Almost all intentional communities do not expect to be able to provide support to members through end of life. While it may work out to provide that for some, there are a number of reasons why it may not work out in all cases. This essay is focused on what a group is likely to encounter when addressing the topic: What Are the Limits of Support for Basic Needs that the Community Can Provide Members with Diminished Capacity?

I. Asking for help
Some have no trouble being a squeaky wheel, and others would rather die first—literally. This means you have to expect that the threshold of when to ask for assistance will vary widely, to the point where some will request help with a want while others are suppressing requests for help with a need. You may have to get very specific about the kinds of support the community is willing to assist with.

II. Care Committee
In recognition of this, I think you want a mechanism whereby it's as easy as possible for people to step forward with their needs. This probably translates to a standing committee—let's call it the Care Committee—perhaps with a mandate that looks something like this:

o  Periodically canvasses the membership discreetly, to ascertain if anyone is suffering from a condition requiring assistance. 

o  When someone is known to have suffered a health setback—either temporary or permanent; physical or mental—or is observed to have diminished capacity that suggests they may need help, this committee is authorized to approach the member in question to inquire about their needs.

If it's determined that the member needs help, the committee will help develop a message (to be sent to members only) that apprises the community of the situation and makes clear what kind of assistance is requested. The expectation is that the content of the message will be developed with the aid of the member needing help, such that they approve of what everyone is being told.

If help is needed, the tasks will be specifically described and the committee will help identify a volunteer who is willing to serve as the Care Coordinator for that person.

To be clear, the community is not guaranteeing that other members will step forward to meet the needs; it is only making sure that everyone has accurate information about the situation and that offers to help are funneled through the Care Coordinator.

o  In addition to being available to members approaching them for help, the committee will have a responsibility to the community to see that rights are appropriately curtailed if it's deemed that the member's capacity has diminished to the point where they cannot function responsibly or safely. This could cover such things as exercising a right to block plenary proposals, or being allowed to drive to town to pick up kids after school. In handling this duty it is expected that the committee will work closely with family members and close friends of the member in question.

o  The committee will take primary responsibility for shepherding through community process any issues or suggested policy adjustments in the arena of support for members needing assistance in getting their needs met.

o  The committee can serve as a limited resource in helping members transition from living in the community to living elsewhere if conditions are such that the member's basic needs cannot be met if the member continues living in the community.

III. Waiting too long
This a delicate topic. As such, groups often put it off until they have members in need of help, which greatly complicates the conversations because you're essentially setting limits that will be immediately applied to individuals at or close to need (don't you love me any more?) This is an example of how waiting works against the group. It may be a tough topic pre-need, but it will be veritable hellhole if you delay policy developmnt until you need to apply it.

IV. Resources will not be evenly distributed
You have to expect the amount of resources available to a member suffering diminished capacity will be quite different from one member to another. Here are reasons why:

o  Partner in residence
It makes a big difference whether the person in question is living alone or with a domestic partner—someone able and highly motivated to supply help.

o  Money in the bank
There is also going to be quite a range in terms of the financial resources (cash, home equity, and strength of insurance) available with which to hire assistance.

o  Social capital
The willingness of other members to come forward to provide home health care assistance will be directly related to the affected member's social capital, which roughly is a measure of how much more the member in question has given to the community than what they taken. If a member runs a high balance, then the community is far more likely to be there for them in their hour(s) of need. If the person was not much engaged in community life, then that's likely to show up here.

o  Graciousness of the person receiving assistance
In addition to one's track record as a community member over the years (see the previous point) it matters how a person handles aging (and possibly pain) emotionally. For some, their spirit expands and there is a heightened sense of appreciation for the gift of assistance. They are grateful and let those around them know it. For others, their spirit shrivels and they become curmudgeonly. Those folks aren't very fun to be around and it directly impacts how much others are willing to volunteer care. (It's the same lesson that Dr Seuss so entertainingly related in How the Grinch Stole Christmas.)

• • •

Having said all this, it's important that the community be as even-handed as possible in what support it provides members in need: the reaching out to gather accurate information about needs, the appropriate sensitivity and discretion in disseminating it, the coordination of support, and the help in transition when it's no longer possible to live in the community.

Taken all together, it's a lot to handle, but I think these are the inevitable challenges the community faces and it's doable to handle them as long as there's the will to discuss matters openly and with heart. Remember, you are not promising that members can stay in the community until they die; you are just promising to do what you can without swamping the boat.

Working in the We Hours

One of ways in which normal groups vary is in the preferences among members about when in the diurnal cycle to have meetings. Mostly people clump at either end of the spectrum, with some favoring meeting at first light (or perhaps after their first cup of coffee) and others preferring to burn the midnight oil (or at least meeting after dinner).

There is no right or wrong to this; there are just preferences. Night people tend to be only partially present if you meet earlier than 11 am, and morning people tend to be like chickens—not worth much after the sun goes down.

Perspicacious readers may ask: what about the afternoon? Well, that's nap time for many. To be sure, you can neutralize the tendency toward the soporific by a thoughtful choice of topics (something controversial perhaps) or a careful selection of formats (something interactive), but on the whole, it has been my observation that afternoons are rarely anyone's first choice for when to hold meetings. In general, people prefer to meet in the wee hours: either early or late.

This is worth discussing because groups typically develop the habit of holding plenaries at the same time of day. This simplifies planning, yet it almost certainly means that the timing will favor some members and disfavor those who are not hitting on all cylinders at that time of day. In short, regularity of meeting times translates into an unintentional bias in the playing field.

Maybe that can't be helped (for example, there may not be sufficient flexibility in members' schedules), but have you asked? Mixing it up can go a long way toward balancing input. Mind you it's not a panacea: you still need to be concerned with the reality that not everyone is equally comfortable speaking in front of a more than four people, and not everyone is equally quick to know their thoughts or be ready to articulate them. Nonetheless, mixing up meetings times will help.

Another thing that will help is getting everyone on board with doing the personal work needed to consistently assume a curious attitude when presented with different opinions than their own, especially when the stakes are high. Cooperative living is about trying to build and sustain cooperative culture, and that requires unlearning our deep conditioning in competitive culture—where we learn to fight for our opinions. This requires that members are motivated to make the adjustment to regularly thinking about what's best for the group ("we" thinking) and less about personal preferences ("I" thinking).)

This is what I meant by the title of this essay—that time of day doesn't matter nearly as much as timely attitude. When groups are first learning to make this transition it often makes a critical difference if there's skilled facilitation present, to help remind everyone of the way they meant to be with each other, but tend to forget in the heat of the moment.

To be clear, I am not advocating "group think" where everyone rushes to join the opinion of someone else and disagreement is viewed as immature ego management. In a healthy cooperative group, disagreement is welcome, because there is the opportunity to shed more light on the issue at hand; it adds different perspectives, which makes it all the more likely that the best solution will be found.

The gold in cooperative culture is not "I" thinking, nor is it eye-for-an-eye thinking, nor is it I'm-more-eloquent-than-thou thinking; nor is it us/them thinking—it's we're-all-in-this-together-and-we-need-soluions-that-don't-leave-anyone-behind thinking. We need to be meeting during the time of day where we're most centered (least distracted by everything on our personal To Do Lists) and least reactive, so that we can listen well and be creative. Those are the we hours.

Bedlam 2015

Continuing a yuletide tradition I started in 2011, I'm dedicating my final post of the year to a summary and analysis of where I laid my weary head each night.

I refer to this as "bedlam" because: a) I'm on the road a lot and have a chaotic and confusing distribution of sleeping arrangements; b) some think that my travel schedule is prima facie evidence of mental illness; and c) I have a congenital weakness for word play.

So here's the summary of where I was when the lights went out each night:

o  I spent 74 nights at home in Rutledge MO, during the stretch Jan 1 through June 8, at which point I moved to Chapel Hill NC, where I slept an additional  53 nights. All together I was only home 53% of the time—down from 62% the previous year.

o  I started the year married to Ma'ikwe and we spent 23 nights together, until she voted me off her island in early Feb and asked for a divorce. Coincident with my move to The Tarheel State I started romancing Susan. Even though Susan's home is in Duluth MN (over 1250 miles from Chapel Hill), I managed to be with her 30 nights.

o  I stayed with clients 15 times for 51 nights, up slightly from a year ago.

o  I visited family 32 nights, almost double a year ago.

o  I stayed overnight with friends 42 nights, down a hair from 2014.

o  I traveled to attend FIC meetings and networking events adding up to 36 nights, almost twice as much as a year ago.

o  I was in a motel or paid accommodations just seven times. Though that's up from four in 2014, it's not bad for guy who's on the road as much as I am. Mostly I stay with friends or clients, for which I'm thankful.

o  I slept on a train a whopping 42 nights (way more than the 17 nights I did in 2014), plus two nights in a car.

o  As I was wrestling with a sore back or torso all year, I was fortunate to sleep on an air mattress or a couch only once each—down sharply from  the 30 times I did that the previous year.

o  All together, I slept in 21 states in 47 different locations. That's a lot of schlepping luggage and adjusting to different beds. (No wonder my back is sore.)

As I peer into the fog of the year ahead, my FIC duties have fallen off sharply now that I've stepped down as the main administrator, so I expect to travel much less in that capacity next year. Going the other way, my process consulting and facilitation trainings have been picking up, so it remains to be seen how much I'll be seen more at home next year. It could go either way.

Right now, my highest priority is healing my back. If that means less travel, then so be it.

In the meantime, I wish a happy new year to one and all!

When It's OK to Close Meetings

The overarching theme of this blog is articulating what it takes to build and sustain cooperative culture—as distinct from the mainstream competitive culture from which we come—and why we need to be doing that as one of our top social change priorities.

Much of what I write about is how this plays out in meetings of groups that are ostensibly committed to cooperative culture yet are still feeling their way into it (it turns out that there are a great many more people who share an analysis of how competitive culture fails to address issues of fairness and long-term sustainability than there are people who have done the personal work needed to unlearn competitive responses in the dynamic moment: when the stakes are high and you encounter disagreement or resistence).

One aspect of cooperative culture that I've written about a number of times previously is transparency. Reference the following entries:
Acceptable Risk • Jan 13, 2015
Collateral Healing • May 30, 2015
The Challenge of Hybrid Governance • Oct 22, 2015
Balancing Transparency & Confidentiality • April 22, 2009
Balancing Transparency and Discretion • July 31, 2014
Balancing Transparency and Discretion, Part II • March 28, 2015
 
Essentially, transparency is joined at the hip with trust. If groups want to succeed in developing cooperative culture there needs to be a high level of trust and that means a high level of transparency. Let me give you an example.

Earlier this month I was working with a grocery that had just made the switch from being a sole proprietorship to being a co-op. As incentive to keep the staff that had been working under the old management, workers had been offered a retention bonus based on gross sales. As it happened, I was present for the meeting at which the sales numbers for November—their first month operating as a co-op—were shared with staff. While the board was worried that the staff might react badly because sales were down 20% from November a year ago (which translated to a smaller bonus), in fact, the staff responded very positively because, for the first time, they were given a peek behind the financial curtain. They had never before been given that kind of detail about the grocery's finances and they were enthusiastic about helping to turn things around. It was clear that being committed to transparency went a long ways toward breaking down the traditional barriers between staff and management.

In this essay, I want to drill down on one particular aspect of transparency: the degree to which meetings are open. In general, I urge cooperative groups to have the least barriers possible in this respect, such that the default is that meetings (as well as the minutes summarizing what happened at them) are open to the public. That said, I think there are three reasons why cooperative groups might reserve the right to temporarily meet in closed session:

I. Personnel Sensitivity
There are times when frankness trumps transparency—when the need to honestly express feelings and reservations is more important than letting everyone hear everything. In many instances, people are uncomfortable voicing hesitancies or concerns about someone in their presence. Let's look at three situations where this might apply:

A. Selection
This can come in two forms: 1) when you're evaluating candidates to fill a job or a committee slot; or 2) when you're assessing nominees to receive an award or honor. In either case you want to be able to thoroughly discuss the pros and cons of candidates without worrying about hurting anyone's feelings.

B. Performance Evaluation
Here the situation is different in that the person already has been given an assignment and you want to examine carefully both how they're meeting expectations and how they may be falling short. Often the person's presence (or their unabashed allies) can inhibit the full expression of shortcomings.

C. Firing (Involuntary Loss of Rights)
Though the least common of the three, it is often crucial that the group examine carefully whether there are sufficient grounds for imposing sanctions on a member, and that due process has been followed before taking action. This consideration will tend to go much better in a closed session where the person in question is not present.

In all three of these cases, I would support there being a closed session, with the understanding that the people being discussed will receive a private in-person summary of what was discussed at the earliest opportunity. This is an important caveat.

II. Political Sensitivity
For some groups (such as networks or nonprofits) there can arise questions about relationships with sister organizations where you want the consideration to happen in-house until a course of action is settled upon, with the agreement that you have not completed the conversation until you've explicitly decided what to share with whom about what was discussed.

III. As a Substitute for Member Screening
People are sometimes selected to be a member (say, of a board) for reasons of networking or bridge building—that is, the person has valuable ties to a group or target population that you want to explicitly cultivate, yet you may not trust that they'll use appropriate discretion if sensitive information is openly shared with them. Thus, you may establish an Executive Committee comprised of board members and staff that have demonstrated an ability to be discrete and to think strategically, that is empowered to occasionally meet in closed session for the purpose of discussing sensitive matters as they arise.

This way you can stretch to include allies in board selection without compromising the group's ability to handle tough, potentially volatile topics as needed. As in the other examples above, it's important that the closed group commit to providing to the full board a decent summary of the discussion, without making inflammatory comments.

For everything else, I say to the sun shine in.

Family Time

This is an image of my immediate family, taken yesterday afternoon in Jo & Peter's living room in Las Vegas:
:
Those are my grandkids, Taivyn (7) and Connor (4), in the front row; and my kids, Ceilee and Jo, in the middle of the back row, flanked by their partners, Sarah and Peter, respectfully. Note the top of the yuletide spruce tree poking out around Peter's neck. It had been many years since we'd all been in the same spot, and it's all the sweeter to have accomplished this at Christmas.

While I'm seated for this portrait (my lower back is still in recovery), it was wonderful being upright at all after spending the previous week in bed. While I had to be careful with my limited energy allowance (back pain can suck up a lot of bandwidth), I was able to enjoy meals and even got in a few board games (a family tradition that runs about as deep as present giving).

Last night I overspent my back budget flying from Las Vegas to Minneapolis on a Delta red eye. I knew the plane would not be crowded when I arrived at McCarran Airport at midnight and there were no attendants at the Delta counter (did I have the wrong airlines?). Fortunately one popped out as I approached and I got my bag checked. This was significant in that schlepping luggage has been a significant contributor to my back fatigue.

But even so, I had to carry my laptop and canvas tote sack through security (have you ever tried tying your shoes with sharp pain in your lower back?), negotiate the monorail system to get to the right concourse, and then walk to the last gate. Fortunately, the plane was only one-third full and it wasn't that hard getting to my seat, or finding space in the overhead storage compartments. 

It was just as bad on the other end where I had to walk the length of the concourse to get to baggage claim in Minneapolis. Not surprisingly, I was ahead of the seasonal "rush" to Duluth—by cleverly visiting in the dead of winter. I was the only passenger for the pre-dawn departure for the van ride north via Skyline Shuttle. By the time Susan collected me at the downtown drop-off point, I was a ragamuffin, hardly able to get out of the vehicle.

Bed never looked so good. And I have 12 gloriously unscheduled days with Susan, where she'll have the (unlooked for) opportunity to parlay her prior teenage experience as a candy striper into playing Florence Nightingale.

It's great to be with loved ones any time, but especially when you're dinged up.