Expert Opinions

In a recent discussion among a group of professional musicians and artists, I was stuck by the comment, We're all experts at something...  It would probably be an accurate statement in any group, but it's quite different from a phrase often used by one of the leaders in another group with which I worked: None of us here is an expert...  I think these two very different perspectives open up possibilities for very different results.

The word "expert" has actually become suspiciously uninformative.  According to Tim Ferris, you can legitimately call yourself an expert if you've read the three top-selling books on a topic.  Perhaps in some situations that's enough, but it isn't always sufficient for me to trust my knowledge of a subject.  I am much more confident claiming to be an expert in the field of music, because I've been doing that for over 30 years.  I guess from my perspective, experience has something to do with the definition of an expert.  There are a few other niches that I feel qualified to call myself an expert as well, but there are also other people from whom I could learn a thing or two.  Even within the broad field of music, there are areas that I don't consider myself expert, like playing bassoon or crafting a violin.  So whether one is legitimately qualified as an expert sometimes depends on the context as well.

For someone to state, "None of us is an expert here," is intended to open up creative and full participation from everyone present.  If no one is an expert, then everyone's opinion is equally valid.  If no one is an expert, then no one can pass judgment on the ideas that are shared.  But if no one is an expert, then everything shared becomes reduced to opinion and decisions get made based on the most powerful personalities rather than the most accurate data.  If no one is an expert, then it actually devalues the collective experiences of the group. This is a great way to preserve the status quo, but not a great way to move forward and grow.

"We are all experts at something," is equally intended to encourage creative and full participation from everyone present, except with a bit more wisdom and insight thrown into the mix.  It begs the question, "What is my area of expertise?  What do I know more about than most people here?"  It means that everyone has something to offer, but it also means that everyone has something to learn.  You are an expert at something, and everyone else here is an expert at something.  No one is better than anyone else in that case.  Everyone simply has something different to bring to the table.

I'm not trying to hide which perspective I respect more.  The most productive, honest, and healthy situation I can imagine for a group is one in which everyone's expertise is acknowledged and valued.  In assembling a group for a special project, it makes sense to bring together people that have different pockets of expertise that are important to the task.  This is obviously more valuable than just a group of willing people without a clue. 

The trick is recognizing one's own strengths and weaknesses and being willing to bring both forward.  Some people don't want to bring their strengths to the foreground because they want to be modest or humble, or they think that their ideas will be shot down, or they doubt the value of their own experience.  Others live under the impression that they don't actually have any weaknesses, that there is nothing they need to learn and no task that someone else could do better.  Both are equally dysfunctional.  As the philosopher admonished, "Know thyself."  A wise person is willing to fully claim their expertise and fully accept the expertise of others.  And a group of people with that attitude in place could do something truly remarkable.  

Being Wrong

At one point, I worked with an organization whose members endeavored not to make other people wrong. It was an actual agreement among the leadership of the organization, but it was also a practice encouraged among its members. Not making other people wrong may seem like an awkward turn of phrase, but it essentially means accepting the validity of someone else's feelings and perspectives without insisting on being right. When we get into a right and wrong mindset, it is usually ourselves we would prefer to be right and the other person we'd prefer be wrong, so agreeing not to make another person wrong is a way of saying, "I don't need to be right. I'm open to other perspectives and ideas."

The intent, of course, was to encourage creativity and out-of-the-box thinking, as well as receptivity and open-mindedness.  If I won't be criticized for what I say because no one going to make me wrong, then I'll be a lot more likely to contribute my ideas. The problem is that sometimes people are wrong.  Sometimes, people have faulty or incomplete information, and sometimes people draw erroneous conclusions from the information they have.  There are people and groups that continue banging their heads against proverbial walls because no one tells them that they're not looking at useful or accurate data. 

Now, you may conclude that there is a way to indicate that data is inaccurate or incomplete without insisting that an individual is "wrong".  That may have been the whole point of the agreement not to make other people wrong.  But when a person is on the receiving end of that communication, it can be pretty easy for our minds to translate even well-thought-out criticism as, "I'm wrong".  On top of that, one can spend so much effort verbally distinguishing a belief from the believer that any real meaning is lost. 

Of course, belief is the whole issue.  Once I look at a set of numbers and draw a conclusion, that conclusion quickly becomes a belief of mine, whether it's accurate or not.  Challenging someone's beliefs is a big deal.  It's understandable why a person would feel attacked when personal beliefs are on the line.  As you might imagine, many discussions degenerated into whether or not someone had made someone else wrong and never really got back to meaningful topics.  Sometimes everyone just drew different conclusions, and there was no way to reconcile them all into one perspective.  Even when you know that someone's information is inaccurate, if you don't want to be accused of making them wrong, you have to come up with just the right way to convince them to reexamine what they believe without having the tables turned back on your own beliefs. 

The result of that seemingly noble agreement was that everyone's ideas and perspectives were not equally considered, and everyone's conclusions were not equally scrutinized.  Nor should they have been necessarily, except that the claimed framework for interaction suggested otherwise. Just having a policy of honesty and maintaining an open forum where being wrong was OK would have been much easier and, I think, more effective.

I am sometimes wrong.  Everyone I know is sometimes wrong.  We get information and draw conclusions.  When we get more information, we confirm or adjust those conclusions.  We're doing this constantly.  There's no way that anyone can go through life without believing something that's a little bit off at some point.  The challenge for me is not to avoid making other people wrong; it's to be willing to accept when I am wrong about something.  It's not the end of the world.  If it's a big deal not to make someone else wrong, that becomes a threatening situation.  If someone suggests that I'm wrong, I have to defend myself because they're out of line?  Not really.  If we never figure out where we are wrong in our conclusions, we can never improve anything, unless it's sheer luck.  

There isn't necessarily a right and wrong in every situation, and some people will point out a perceived mistake when they don't have accurate information themselves.  Sometimes, there is absolutely a gentle way to let someone else know that they've jumped to a conclusion that doesn't quite make sense, and I'm all in favor of providing more useful data to someone if they're willing to hear.  I think words spoken in love will always be easier to hear.  But the biggest thing is not being afraid to be wrong.  It will happen.  Best to have trustworthy people around you who will send up the red flags rather than perform semantic acrobatics.  

Still Reflection on Troubled Waters

An accompanying job in one of my old stomping grounds has stirred up memories of a challenging situation.  While I'm not one to wallow in regret or rehash the past over and over again in my mind, I do occasionally consider what I could have done differently in a given situation, so that I might learn something valuable even if an experience didn't play out the way I would have preferred.  As I played through this particular sequence of events from my past, I came upon a startling realization.  Although I made conscious efforts to "not make the situation worse," there is very little I could have done to change the outcome.  It would have been more authentic, and perhaps had a greater positive impact on some of the people involved, for me to simply speak directly and honestly without going overboard on efforts to be diplomatic or polite.

As concise as I can be while still painting a more or less complete picture, here is the story.  I fired someone.  Actually, I eliminated their position.  I did so as gently as I could, and I offered another possibility for the person to be involved and continue to earn an income.  This individual was essentially getting paid for doing the same thing that several other people did as volunteers.  It was a bit of an ethical disconnect for one person to get paid to do something that other people did for free, and the budget wouldn't allow me to pay everyone I would have liked to pay.  However, I needed someone to do a different task, a more unique task that I could practically and ethically justify paying someone to do.  It seemed like a perfect fit to me.

Not so for the individual in question.  The position for which I wanted to pay someone was not desirable to this person, so when I stopped paying for her participation, she stopped participating.  I found someone else to fill the paid position and went on with my job.  It was, after all, nothing personal.  When I heard about another paying opportunity for which she was quite qualified, I passed it along, but she wasn't interested in that either. Instead, she started a whisper campaign to get me removed from my position.

One person who was sympathetic to her point of view happened to be the board chairperson, and this position held more power than any salaried position in the organization.  The chairperson already had some significant differences of opinion with me about the organizational structure.  I believed that the paid staff had been hired because of our expertise in our areas of focus, and that the volunteer board existed to guide and support the vision of the organization, spearheaded by staff leadership.  The chairperson believed that the staff were hired help who were expected to follow the orders of the board, lack of expertise or leadership notwithstanding.  This distinction was never clearly communicated to me, so I continued to operate under my own perceptions.

I knew that there were communication issues.  I knew that the board was slow to make decisions, and that many of those decisions were based on fear rather than vision.  I knew that there were rumblings going on behind the scenes and in the shadows.  In other words, I knew this organization to be like most other organizations.  So, I offered leadership from my position to support the stated purpose of the organization, not realizing that leadership was not really what was expected of me.

Eventually, ten months after these events began, it was suggested that I resign.  I did so, and they ushered me out as quickly as possible, with a polite reception and a plaque.  I received the plaque graciously and told everyone how wonderful it had been to be a part of their "family" during my time there, and I left it at that.  In the moment, I thought there was no reason to bring up any of the misguided or dysfunctional actions that led to my departure, since really there were only a couple of angry people with personal agendas that created a toxic environment.

Now, looking back at that situation, I realize that nothing I would have said could have made matters worse.  I'm sure there are things that someone could say or do that would have exacerbated things, but there was no reason for me not to be direct and honest with the people involved.  My situation would have been no different, and (although I doubt anything coming from me would have been received) they just might have heard something that no one else was willing to tell them.  Instead, I gave up and let them have their dysfunction, and in the process I didn't trust myself to be able to confront them with loving honesty.

Sometimes, being adept at self-deception leads us to the illusion that we are also effectively deceiving everyone around us.  I want to be the kind of person who will tell someone, "What you are doing doesn't line up with what you claim to believe."  Not out of spitefulness or malice, but simply because there is really nothing to be lost on my end and everything to be gained on the other end.  If I could go back and observe, "It must be frustrating to constantly be at the center of upheaval and turmoil," I wouldn't have been telling the chairperson anything astounding, but it would have conveyed that I saw the pattern of his involvement in one organization after another. 

Of course, I cannot go back and have any impact on that organization.  That time has passed, and I have moved on to other endeavors.  But I will continue to interact with people for the rest of my life, and I want to take as much as I can from my life's experiences, the ones I absolutely love as well as the ones that are frustrating as hell.  From that chapter, I can glean (among other things) that there isn't that much to be gained by me trying to "not make a situation worse."  I can trust my own authentic baseline of tactful diplomacy, honest care, and incisive discernment without adding anything to it.  It may not change the outcome in the least, but it will change how I am with myself, and that is ultimately worth more than anything.

How Selfish

When the flight attendants do the bit about putting on your own oxygen mask before helping those around you, it has always been clear why they would need to tell me that so directly.  It's natural for me to put aside my own wants or needs for other people.  So if a situation demands that I take care of myself first, it seems like the exception.  I'm realizing how much more that could represent the norm, how satisfying it can be to focus my attention on my own personal vision.

In the past, I've written about my fear that, underneath it all, I'm a selfish person.  This fear has been with me for awhile, but over the last couple of years, I have focused more purposefully on ridding myself of it.  The problem has been that so much of what I am truly passionate about was taking a backseat to other noble endeavors, and to concentrate more fully on my own dreams and personal vision seemed selfish.  It's hard to get rid of a belief when one is regularly creating new evidence for it.  At the same time, I frequently allow my own goals to be less important than the goals of others, probably because I don't want to appear selfish to myself or anybody else.   

Not being selfish has been the underlying cause of many issues for me.  Most of the situations that I found dissatisfying as an adult have resulted from me working to improve the processes or culture of a place when my ideas were not universally valued.  Instead of focusing my efforts on what mattered most to me, I sublimated what I saw as selfish goals for the sake of a greater good.  I turned my creative abilities and strategic skill toward external organizations rather than using them for my own selfish endeavors, and in so doing, I created a no-win situation for myself.

Now, I believe that there is a difference between being selfish and being self-absorbed.  I believe that one can be both selfish and compassionate.  In fact, I believe that one must be selfish in order to see a personal vision through to fruition.  Creating a life with deep personal meaning often requires guarding time against distractions and choosing relationships that are supportive over those that are toxic.  One may call it self-awareness to soften the blow, but it has certainly felt like selfishness to me.  The truth is, there has never been anything wrong with being selfish, aside from my own personal judgment against myself.

The big lie was not that I am a selfish person.  The big lie is that it is wrong to be selfish.  If I focus on the things I most want in my life, I'll still be creating something that has a broader impact, but it won't be at the expense of my own satisfaction.  Giving myself permission to be selfish without imposing anything on anyone else is one of the most freeing things I have ever done.  I am still interested in being of service to other people, and I know that I will be.  But it makes sense to secure my own oxygen mask and breathe for myself before I help the people around me.

Lessons in Partnership

Some significant experiences this week have centered around leadership and partnership for me. In general, I have been forging ahead on the things that are important to me, accomplishing meaningful goals, and soliciting feedback from others. It's been rather different from waiting for feedback or approval before I take a step, and I am finding it to be invigorating and fun. Here, briefly, are a few brief situations and what I have been getting from them.

Charging Ahead. One person this week asked whether I was just charging ahead and doing my own thing rather than accepting partnership from others within a group. My first impulse was to be defensive, but it didn't take much to see that this person was expressing a desire to be a part of what I was planning. I was giving people something to notice by being proactive. And I was very much wanting that kind of partnership to surface, so it was easy to receive.
The activity of moving forward toward your vision attracts capable partnership more than inspiring words alone.

The Critic. I showed a project to a friend this week, and his feedback was initially enthusiastic. As he continued, he became a bit reserved and was hesitant to say something critical about what I had created. In the end, he was able to provide some great constructive observations that will help me continue to improve upon things. His critique was oriented toward building up what I was doing, rather than tearing it down, and that contribution is incredibly valuable.
When you share what you are creating with others, their perspective can provide fuel to carry you forward in your endeavors.

History Lesson. In a conversation about future plans for an organization, some historical data was brought up. Instead of treating it as "the way things must be done," the discussion was geared more toward the question of what has worked well in the past and what hasn't. There was a great deal of honesty in that perspective, and knowing the history of a group or situation can help make decisions wisely. Historical data becomes detrimental when we ignore it or blindly adhere to it.
Know your history... create your future.

My own self-criticism is that these little vignettes are a way of avoiding getting something deep from the experiences, but I truly have found value in realizing how vital it is to take action while embracing partnership. And I am now on the lookout for more opportunities to partner with capable co-creators, insightful critics, and those who have gone before me to create the foundation where I stand. My path is my own, but the journey is made richer by appreciating a wealth of fellow travelers.

The Illusion of Safety

I barely acknowledge some of the fears that drive my behavior. I am afraid of being perceived as "pushy," so I don't express the potential I see in some people's lives. I am afraid of being the focus of someone's anger, so I don't always support people on the commitments they make. I am afraid of not being accepted, so I keep to myself insights and ideas that could actually pave the way for someone's dreams becoming reality. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but it most likely boils down to a desire to be safe.

Every day, I pass by many apartment complexes with "security gates," to provide an illusion of safety to the residents. I've lived in those kinds of communities. The gates, when they actually function properly, may make it a little tougher for someone, but anybody that really wants to be on the other side of the gate can find a way to do it. My mind sometimes has me convinced that by not sharing what I see, I am keeping myself safe from other people's judgment. When I take an honest look, I can acknowledge how silly that mental security gate is.

My hairstyle isn't "safe." I write music that could be called challenging on a few different levels. But I am not always willing to directly challenge other people's perceptions of reality. Even when their perceptions keep them from creating the lives they claim to want. It seems safer just to let people believe what they believe and behave how they behave.

My mind gets hung up on the idea of accepting other people. I want to accept people for who they are, and I want to respect the beliefs that they choose. But accepting people doesn't mean refusing to challenge them. Especially on the beliefs that they are acting on subconsciously. Like my belief that sharing what I see will result in rejection. What I actually want is to let my strengths be of benefit in other people's lives, and some of those strengths involve seeing potential that others simply don't see.

So the question becomes, how do I dismantle that silly security gate and the illusion of safety? Well, for one thing, communication is a skill that can bridge the gap between what I fear and what I want. When I am careless in how I communicate what I see, then it's more likely that I will say things in a less hearable way. When I communicate clearly and in detail the possibilities I see, and I am clear about my motivation for doing so, I create a space that allows for easier partnership. Or even space for others to springboard from my vision into a purpose of their own.

My willingness to be vulnerable leads me to recognize that I can be passionate about something without being attached to what someone else does with it. I am only responsible for me, and I am also the only one who can share what I see. It's not necessarily "safe," but really... what is?

Leading from Within

In so many movies, there is a scene that I rarely see played out in real life: an individual spontaneously stands up in front of a group of people and delivers and impromptu rallying speech that inspires the crowd to significant, purposeful action. Whether they are going out and winning the competition or burning down the evil scientist's laboratory, their decisions are inspired by an individual voice. I'm sure that this kind of thing happens in reality in more subtle ways, whether for good or ill, but this kind of influence seems short-lived to me. It isn't what I think of as "leadership."

Even the word leadership has conjured for me certain mental images of a person who is at the front of a group of people. The leader marches purposefully forward, and the rest of the parade follows. The leader holds the torch high and people flock to him. Or even, the leader unveils the blueprint and a throng of people dash off to do their part. These are rather comical images to me right now, but they are caricatures of what I have been expecting of myself and others.

Various sources have been contributing to an evolving definition of leadership recently. What I have been reading and hearing from some other people reveals a definition of leadership that is slightly different from what mine had been. They suggest that a leader is the one who breaks from the crowd and heads off in a new direction with purpose, creating a path rather than traversing one that can be clearly seen. Sometimes, these definitions of a leader don't even make mention of who is following or where they come from, because ultimately it is about a path of personal meaning.

In many ways, I have gotten good at waiting. I have waited for the right opportunities, the right environment, the right number of supporters, or even the right quality of support. I have held back engaging 100% of my capability in the world, because I want to make sure that others are with me. I spend time and energy trying to figure out how to convince others about the value of what I am doing, when I could just be doing it. The waiting and holding back doesn't actually move me forward. And as valuable as it is to me to have other people's support, the primary motivation has to emerge from within my own being.

So I am looking at clear ways to redefine my sense of leadership in my decisions as I begin a new year. I am forging my own trail, and I'm trusting that the people who see value in what I am doing will be there with me. I want to engage others about what I am creating, and I want to connect with them about their journey as well. But I also acknowledge that doing it is more compelling than talking about it. And if I am committed to carrying out the personal journey that is most satisfying to me, I believe I already have all that I need to be on that path.

Leadership and Friendship

While overseeing a rather extensive program, I have frequently been faced with choices about what was best for the overall program. Often this includes creating opportunities for other people's skills and abilities to shine, but once in a while it can be a challenge to maintain relationships and also support the development of a high-quality program. In one particular instance many months ago, I chose to let go of an individual in order to allow growth of the broader program in new ways. Even though I liked this person and valued the connection, it was clear to me that he wasn't really a fit for the direction of growth I envisioned.

There are many circumstances in which I'm sure it is still true that who you know is more important than what you know. Our connections with other people are incredibly valuable, and I believe that the most inspirational visions evolve from partnerships. That being said, there are times in which a vision or purpose may require something beyond the capabilities of current connections. My preference would be to maintain the friendships and partnerships that I have in place while pursuing a vision or purpose that augments or surpasses them. This can involve some tricky navigation, and ultimately it requires partnership and understanding on the part of someone else.

I am a bit sad today that the connection I had with this particular person was not strong enough to survive my purposeful decisions. Even though I have tried on numerous occasions to reconnect, I received a clear signal recently that there was no willingness on the other side of the equation. At least not right now. What I want to do in the future is to more effectively and engagingly bring others on board with the vision(s) I create, so that the partnerships and connections I have are strengthened even in the midst of difficult choices. Still, to a certain extent, every partnership requires willingness on both sides.

Speaking in the Face of Fear

Edmund Burke claimed, "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." Often, this politically charged quote is used to draw attention to flaws in large-scale systems, but it is equally applicable in small-scale communities. In fact, when fear runs rampant in a community, it is often because the fearful voices are the only ones being heard. There may be those who are level-headed, trusting, and full of faith, but if they do not speak up, they diminish their chances to influence a community.

In the past, I have watched as communities divided over petty issues, or as charismatic and vocal individuals spread panic through a group of people in order to gain support for personal agendas. Fear can be very persuasive, and it doesn't take much effort for us to become fearful. And yet, individuals and communities who react to situations out of fear or panic often do things that are in direct conflict with their purposes. Fear gives us an excuse to behave badly, a justification for doing things we would criticize in others.

And when no one points it out to us, fear keeps us blind. Fear puts sheets up over all of the mirrors so we never clearly see who we are being. It takes a certain trust, confidence, and willingness to stand up in the face of that kind of fear and call it what it is. In communities where those kind of trusting and willing people speak up, fear is less likely to take root. It is not always comfortable or easy to speak up in a rising tide of fearfulness or panic, and yet it is vital for the well-being of a community.

When individuals are willing to hold one another to the true purpose of a community, that vision can remain clear and focused. When we see something happening that is out of alignment with the purpose we have claimed for ourselves and our communities, it often only requires us to be willing to open our mouths to defuse the fear. It may seem easier to step back and criticize, to form our own secret collusion committees, or to suggest that "someone" should do something, but those responses only engage our own fears. There is something noble in each of us that calls us into action, and that noble action can be as simple as a calm, gentle, and disarming reminder of purpose and vision.

Community Leadership

As I think about community and what that means, it strikes me that the word "leadership" probably has as many different definitions as the word "community." When I think of the kinds of partnerships that will carry my own various visions forward, that sense of working toward a common purpose seems best served by seeing eye-to-eye with another person rather than making demands or issuing orders. Of course, I still have the responsibility of carrying out my vision for my life, even though I am in partnership with other people.

A community vision is a bit different. Many people with many different ideas about the way things should be. At the very least there are likely to be different opinions about the best way to accomplish a vision. I have been in communities where everyone tries to take the lead and pursue their way of doing things, and the ensuing chaos didn't bring us any closer to our purpose. I have also been a part of communities in which no one wanted the mantle of leadership because it was viewed as carrying the burden of responsibility for doing everything successfully. That model wasn't any more effective.

My ideas about leadership have been developing over the last several months, so it only makes sense that my ideas about leadership in the context of a community have been growing. Although there are varying styles of leadership, a leader is first and foremost a vision-holder. Collective partnerships can certainly lead a community in the direction of their vision, and in a connected and purposeful community, leadership may even shift fluidly among different individuals at different times. But often it takes an individual to take a stand in order to propel things into the next step.

One thing I am realizing, however, is that a leader can help a community discover its vision. A leader can even guide a community in how to step into that vision. But a leader can only take a community where it is willing to go. Otherwise, the community will choose a different leader, by one means or another. I suppose one could try to be a chameleon, but if a leader's vision is different enough from the community of which he is a part, this seems like a short-lived solution. In fact, true leadership may involve having the integrity of personal vision to trust that communities which share a similar purpose will emerge in partnership.