Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply." - Stephen R. Covey
image by ChatGPT
Recently I was roped in, at the last minute, to play the role of a facilitator for a cross-functional meeting of a client’s global network security team. Twelve people, seven time zones, and a new IT security protocol that would change how every team handled data access requests.
I must admit I was somewhat anxious and felt a tad unprepared. Min-Ho, the discussion leader and a former colleague, kicked off the Zoom meeting.
The ninety-minute meeting went far better than I could have imagined largely because of how Min-Ho handled it. There were plenty of questions. People disagreed. Yet, by the end, they had agreed on what needed to be done, acknowledged what still needed to be worked through, and set up a follow-on working meeting.
Rarely have I seen a change meeting go that well.
When I shared this with Min-Ho in our post-meeting debrief, he burst out laughing. Seeing my perplexed look, he stopped, wiped his eyes and said, “You should have seen how I blew my previous meeting.”
“Earlier this year, I had to convince another global team to switch suppliers. I prepared for three weeks, building my case and polishing my presentation. I was confident that by the end of the meeting we’d have consensus. Boy was I wrong.”
“After the meeting, we were further apart than when we started."
This time, Min-Ho had done something differently. In the weeks before the meeting, he’d spoken individually to several of the people who would be on the call. In one of these conversations, he learnt that a team he expected to resist the change wasn't particularly worried about switching suppliers. They were worried they'd be blamed for the delays it might cause.
The work before the meeting
Min-Ho was quite matter-of-fact about what he’d done wrong. He knew the outcome he sought and its benefits. But he didn't know what each of the twelve people stood to lose or feared they stood to lose if they changed suppliers.
In my experience, when we meet in person, these things surface informally. People signal discomfort before the meeting starts. Conversations happen in corridors. On a global Zoom call, you get none of this.
By the time you enter the room, much of your ability to influence that room has already been determined.
I’ve made the same mistake more than once—focusing too hard on getting my deck ready when a couple of phone calls would have taught me more.
Watch It In Action
Priya Parker — author of The Art of Gathering gave this RSA talk on how to design gatherings that create real alignment rather than the appearance of it. The section worth watching most closely is her explanation of why a gathering's purpose must be established before it begins — well before the opening remarks.
Try This Week
Before your next significant change communication to a global or distributed group:
Identify the two or three people most likely to have concerns Reach out individually before any group call. Seek to understand what the change means for their specific situation. Ask: "What would make this hard for your team?".
Use what you learn to adjust how you frame the proposal for the group If you discover a real constraint, either address it in the design or acknowledge it explicitly in the presentation.
Open the group call with what you've already learned Acknowledgeme the real concerns: "We know this creates an approval cycle challenge for some teams — here's how we're thinking about that." This will help the team feel heard and to work the issues together.
From Elsewhere
In Finland, talkoot is the tradition of neighbours gathering to do work together — harvesting, building, clearing — without payment or expectation of repayment. The reward is the completed task and the company of people doing it together. It traces back centuries and endures in modern Finnish city life — housing cooperatives, neighbourhood projects — because the Finnish see it not as duty but as the natural rhythm of shared life. More on talkoot here ».