Coaching Men of Privilege

It's no accident that a large percentage of leaders in the corporate world are men, and it's no accident that many of them were born to Caucasian families of privilege.  Before we go any further,  let me add that people of privilege include all races, genders and social status.  But in this post, I'd like to deal with men of privilege, many of whom are Caucasian.

Getting through to some of these men on issues of diversity and inclusion can be nearly impossible. 

This is often what I hear:

"I worked damn hard for everything I have."

"No one gave me a break, I had to earn it."

"I started at the bottom and worked my way up."

"Why should someone have an advantage over me because they're of a different race/religion/gender/ethnicity/sexual orientation?"

The best metaphor I've come across comes from a writer named John Scalzi, who is his blog "Whatever"  wrote a post called "Straight White Male: The Lowest Difficulty Setting There Is."

Ingeniously, Mr. Scalzi compares life to a video game in which you can, at the outset of the game, set the level of difficulty for the game.  For straight white males, they get to play the game of life at the easiest setting.  For others, the settings are pre-set, unalterable and dramatically harder.  

So, it's not that they didn't work hard for every thing they have, they did.  It's not that anyone gave them a break, no one did. It's not that they didn't start at the bottom and work their way up, they did.  But if the game of life--at least in business--can be compared to a marathon, they get to start at the starting line, and have a built in advantage over those who start much, much further back.

This metaphor has worked with many men of privilege far better than an examination of their values and behaviors--about which they are frequently on the defensive--and makes it easier for them to see the effects of their privilege as a systems issue.   Later, we can identify their role, if any, in supporting that system.

Got privilege?

Coaching by Not Listening

Much of our behavior is nonverbal. The statistics vary, but many studies show that as much as 70% of our behavior is not the spoken word, but the "words" communicated by our body language.

Especially with highly intelligent, very verbal (and sometimes verbose) clients, a fog of words obscures what's really going on. 

To cut through this fog of complexity, I look for body language behavior that might be meaningful.  And I'll ask about it.

Two examples:

One client, a a female financial analyst for a large global corporation, would repetitively "twirl" her hair--loop a few strands around a finger and twirl away. When asked about it (she was not aware she was doing it), we had a conversation that led her to the realization that she was literally trying to pull facts, data and idea from her head. Nothing wrong with that.  But in terms of her happiness and satisfaction at work, we had a productive discussion about accessing other parts of herself--her heart, her gut.  This aligned nicely with 360 feedback she had received that she seemed cold and distant to some of her direct reports.

During the course of a coaching session, a male software engineer who worked for a microfinance website would reach across his body with his right hand and massage his left deltoid (the muscle between neck and shoulder). When asked about it, he said he did it because it felt good.  We probed that a bit and he realized he needed soothing for a variety of painful life and work situations, and that he was not taking advantage of the support system that did exist for him among co-workers, friends and family.

Of course, a coach can't--and should not--simply stop listening altogether, but noticing and asking about nonverbal behaviors can help to access real issues obscured by the fog of too many words.

Personal Weirdness Index

Good coaches and consultants stay "marginal"-- we stay close to our clients or coachees, but we also maintain a  certain distance.  Most of us succeed when we stay at the margin or boundary between "them" and "us." If we are too much like our coachee or client, they're not likely to see us as value-added.  If we are too different from them, they are likely to see us as disconnected and remote from their experience.

So, one way to calibrate for this is to assess --and perhaps tinker with-- your "personal weirdness index"(PWI).   That which is "weird" at a conservative Wall Street investment banking house might go totally unnoticed at all at a web start up company where everyone is under 30.   If I wore an ear ring and pony tail to that Wall Street firm, I'd probably have too high a PWI and be thought of as kooky or even dangerous. If I wore a double breasted Armani suit and tie to the web start up, I'd probably be similarly dismissed.

But PWI is linked not only to appearance, but also to behavior. In one client's culture, collegiality, politeness, conformity and obedience are highly valued.  There are many positive benefits to these values, but they tend sometimes to leave little room for passionate debate, civil but  intense disagreement, and creative thinking; all of which this organization needs very badly.  So, my way of being "weird" to them is to openly and politely show my disagreement, invite debate, or notice and point out the lack of creative thinking.  The fact that this seems a bit weird to them allows them the opportunity to see these behaviors and perhaps try them out.  Too weird for them would be disagreement that was personal, snide, rude or sarcastic.

Awareness of your PWI is a way of bringing, as a coach or consultant, something to the client or coachee system that they cannot find in themselves.  It's there, they just can't find it, and that is what good coaching is all about.

Beauties and Beasts

This blog is dedicated to discussion and exploration of coaching dilemmas, trends, best practices, horror stories and anything else of interest to coaches and those they coach.

Coaches are familiar with the "beauties" we coach: eager, responsive and intentional coachees who put their heart and soul into achieving the personal and/or business growth goals they have set for themselves.

But what about the "beasts?"  They take many forms, but today's beast is the person we coach who, for whatever reason, we just don't like, or connect with.  One way to manage this beast is to simply opt out of coaching them--a viable solution some times, but some times not.  For example, I've had several corporate clients who have hired me to coach several individuals, and I have agreed to do so. In some sense, I committed to coaching these folks no matter what.

Yes, I know that "not liking" someone probably says something about what they evoked in me.   We can go there another time.  For now, I want to address the practical problem of coaching this person.

The solution that seems to have worked for me is to go with the feeling of not liking them, or the inability to connect, and search for something about them about which I am curious or at least interested in.  The misogynist CEO?  I asked him about the women in his life.  He looked to them for support.

The petrochemical engineer who said his whole life was based on ignoring his emotions? I asked him what made him happy. Virtually nothing, and off we  went.

The financial analyst who said men blocked her every ambition and that women colluded with them? I asked her what her plan for advancement was given the tremendous obstacles she saw. We had a fascinating  --to her--discussion of the possibility of her abandoning her long-held dream of rising to the top of the corporate ladder. (She didn't).

I truly never got to really "like" any of these individuals, but I became very interested in them.  That seemed to melt their resistance to coaching and my resistance to coaching them. And sometimes, no matter what, it was not possible to forge a connection, and opting out is what I did.

You can read more about my coaching and consulting practice at www.williampalmerconsulting.com

Your comments are more than welcome.