Lane Changes

My wife and I moved to Dallas from Los Angeles. Among the many stark contrasts, we were most struck by the difference in driving habits. In Los Angeles, driving is a cultural phenomenon. In Dallas, driving feels competitive. When meeting friends and colleagues in L.A., you talk about freeways. In Dallas, you talk about sports.

When I lead workshops that cover topics like the Ladder of Inference or confirmation bias, I often use driving behavior to illustrate how our beliefs shape what we notice. I’ll claim that Dallas drivers don’t use their turn signals. And because of that belief, I see endless “evidence” that I’m right: cars weaving across lanes without signaling. My daughters, aware of my bias, like to call out counterexamples: “Look, Dad, that green car just signaled.” They see what I filter out. I’ll even reinterpret their evidence to fit my belief: “That driver must not be from Dallas.”

Our brains love shortcuts. We cling to assumptions because they feel efficient. But those shortcuts can blind us to signals and to each other.

Turn signals are a form of communication. A signal might be a polite, “May I move over?” or a warning, “Heads up!” Most often, it’s simply, “Here’s what I’m about to do.” At its core, signaling is an acknowledgment that other people’s needs matter.

At its core, signaling is an acknowledgment that other people’s needs matter.

Cars obscure the body language we rely on to interpret intentions. And life is full of invisible “vehicles”—schedules, inboxes, calendars—that make it hard for others to see where we’re headed. Without signals, people are left guessing.

We travel through the world in these bodies, much like cars: enclosed, private, and easy to forget there’s someone else behind every windshield. We work across distances and time zones. We make plans, change plans, and often assume others will just “figure it out.” When we fail to signal, it’s not always selfishness, it’s often habit, distraction, or the illusion that others can see what we see.

Compassion starts with simply acknowledging that other people exist and have needs too. Compassion isn’t just empathy; it’s action. To communicate compassionately is to anticipate others’ need for clarity before they’re left reacting to unexpected changes.

Travel compassionately by signaling your intentions:

  • A quick update. Send the “I might be late” text before someone starts worrying.
  • A small heads-up. Share a draft early so your colleague doesn’t feel ambushed later.
  • A sign of respect. Tell a teammate when you’ve changed course instead of assuming they’ll notice.
  • A kindness. Ask, “Is this still a good time?” before diving into a heavy topic.

Signals don’t need to be elaborate. A quick message, a note in a shared calendar, a sentence of context—these are all turn signals for life.

Signaling helps you, too. When we pause to share our intentions, we slow down, reflect, and notice others. We interrupt autopilot. We shift from competition to cooperation. We strengthen our attention agility, the ability to quickly and easily shift one’s focus in response to dynamic conditions.

The habit of signaling reminds us we’re not driving alone. We’re part of a complex flow of people, each carrying their own invisible cargo of worries, hopes, and deadlines.

So, when you feel rushed, overwhelmed, or ready to change lanes in life, ask yourself: Who needs to know what I’m about to do? Then, use your indicator.

The Emotional Mismatch in Organizational Change

If you’re exhausted, overwhelmed, and uncertain about what might be changing at work next week, take comfort: you’re not alone. The scale of organizational change is staggering. Consider this: in 2023, the management consulting industry in the U.S. grew at 7.7% — more than twice the overall U.S. GDP growth of 3%. When consulting firms generate more change strategies, leaders and employees face even more upheaval in the years ahead.

The Messy Middle of Change

Given this trend, we at Unstuck Minds aren’t surprised by the recent requests for workshops about dealing with change. While most organizations want help preparing for change, many reach out when they’re already stuck in the middle of it.

While developing a change workshop, I found unexpected insight from an emergency room physician. In an October 5th New York Times opinion piece titled “I’m a Doctor. ChatGPT’s Bedside Manner is Better Than Mine,” Jonathan Reisman wrote about his training in delivering bad news to patients and families. He was initially skeptical about using scripts and techniques, believing that “compassion and empathy couldn’t be choreographed like dance steps.”

As an ER physician, Reisman regularly delivers versions of this “bad news” script. He noted, “For patients and their families, these conversations can be life-changing, yet for me it is just another day at work – a colossal mismatch in emotion.”

This concept of emotional mismatch perfectly captures a crucial challenge in organizational change.

The Change-Emotion Gap

When leaders discuss change with their teams, they face a similar emotional disconnect. While not as devastating as delivering life-altering medical news, this mismatch creates tension that can derail productive dialogue about change.

William Bridges’ famous Transitions model emphasizes that while change is situational, transition is psychological. It involves three stages:

1. Ending: People let go of the old way

2. The Neutral Zone: A period of uncertainty and confusion

3. New Beginning: Individuals embrace new identities and ways of working

The greatest emotional mismatch occurs in the “neutral zone.” Leaders, eager for results, grow impatient while their teams still mourn the loss of familiar routines.

Bridging the Gap: A Better Approach

Just as physicians learn scripts for delivering difficult news, leaders can use specific prompts when change efforts stall. Instead of selling the benefits of change, try these questions — and resist the urge to solve, fix, or judge:

– “What’s making this change hard for you?”

– “Here’s what I’m still getting used to ________. What about you?”

– “Does it feel like something you value is going away? Like what?”

When you sense the emotional gap narrowing, explore possibilities:

– “Not everything is set in stone yet. What might we be able to influence now that things are changing?”

Remember: You can’t force emotional alignment. If people don’t feel safe expressing their true feelings, they’ll find others who share their emotional state — often colleagues who reinforce resistance to change.

The key to successful change management isn’t pushing harder; it’s creating space for honest dialogue about the emotional journey.

Cultivate Generous Connections

At a pivotal moment in Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables, the police capture the book’s protagonist, Jean Valjean and bring him before Bishop Myriel. Valjean had spent 19 years in prison for stealing a loaf of bread. Prison turned Valjean into a hardened and bitter man, resentful of society. Upon his release he had no food, shelter, or anyone to turn to for help.

The bishop had welcomed Valjean, fed him, and provided a comfortable place to stay. Despite his hospitality, Valjean stole the bishop’s silverware and the silver basket containing the silverware, and then fled in the night.

When the police captured Valjean and took him to the bishop, rather than accuse Valjean of theft, the bishop explained to the police that the silverware was a gift. The bishop goes further, offering Valjean a pair of silver candlesticks, telling him that he must have forgotten them when he left.

Inspired by the bishop’s mercy and compassion, Valjean experiences a moral awakening. He adopts a new identity. He dedicates himself to helping others.

Transactional Interactions

When we treat others transactionally, we’re only thinking about a current and temporary exchange. We have a specific need or a preferred outcome. We evaluate each interaction in terms of whether we get what we want. When we connect transactionally, we keep score. When we connect transactionally, we give little thought to the ripple effects beyond the quid pro quo exchange.

Consider Valjean’s first theft in Les Misérables. The consequence for stealing the loaf of bread was a prison sentence. The justice system dealt with Valjean transactionally, a brutal punishment for a minor crime. As the effects of his punishment rippled out, Valjean became an aggrieved and desperate man.

When we engage transactionally, we don’t know what, if any ripple effects we’ve created. If all parties are satisfied, we’ve preserved a kind of status quo. But have we missed an opportunity? If we feel stuck in a situation involving others, could it be that we’re overly focused on getting our preferred outcome in the present? What future possibilities might we attract by being more attentive to the needs of others?

Generous Connections

By contrast, Valjean’s second theft of the bishop’s silver resulted in compassion and an opportunity to walk a different path. Of course, there was no guarantee that the bishop’s mercy would trigger transformative moral growth. Some interactions defy transactional interpretation. A generous connection is one in which a person gives freely without an expectation of getting something in return.

We connect generously when we sense an opportunity to improve someone’s life. It feels natural to connect generously with those we care most about. On the other hand, connecting generously when conducting business feels counterintuitive, maybe even subversive. How often do we hear, “what’s in it for me?” or “run a cost-benefit analysis.”

The examples from Les Misérables represent extreme ends of a spectrum. Every day we encounter and interact with people, sometimes transactionally, sometimes generously. When contracting work with others, we evaluate what we’re giving against what we’re getting. When we’re moved to make charitable contributions, we look beyond the transaction to future impacts without consideration of how those future impacts may benefit us.

Every interaction provides an opportunity to connect generously. Consider the simple act of ordering a cup of coffee. We could play our roles, stay in our lanes, and perform the expected exchange. Or we could make generous, wholehearted contact with another human being. We might smile, noticing something positive about them, or sincerely ask about their day.

Getting Unstuck with Generous Connections

Have you noticed that the traditional management playbook is outdated? Particularly when it comes to how we think about our stakeholders and networks. People expect more from their organizational life than a fair exchange of work for pay. Customers expect more than goods and services from the businesses they are loyal to.

Defining success based on transactions alone carries risk. First, you’re not prepared when needs change. Second, you haven’t built relationships you can count on when unanticipated opportunities arise.

Consider an example of how a focus on keeping score can play out. You are in a business development role, it’s the end of the quarter and your sales manager is pressuring you to meet your quota. During the next meeting with a client, your training and conditioning kicks in. The meeting turns into the playing field of a numbers game. To make the sale is to win, and each win gets you closer to meeting your quota.

When you feel stress and pressured to achieve a goal, it’s difficult to access generosity. A scarcity mindset breeds fear and anxiety which undermines the opportunity to deepen your relationship. Instead of listening for the client’s needs, you narrow your focus and listen only for what serves your needs. Instead of harmonizing with the client, the conversation feels like a tennis match in which you serve up offers and volley objections.

How to Cultivate Generous Connections

The less instinctive approach is one of generosity. You choose to hold lightly the short-term goal of the quarterly quota and attend to the long-term goal of cultivating an authentic connection based on care and compassion. Connecting with the client as a human being allows unknown possibilities to emerge from the relationship.

Here are some things to try when feeling stuck between competing priorities

  • Acknowledge and hold the tension created by wanting to achieve your goals while prioritizing what best serves the person you’re with.
  • Lead with compassionate curiosity, listen with an open mind and open heart.
  • Pay attention to the passion you experience from the other person and delve deeper into those areas.
  • Seek to understand what feels relevant and important for the other person, have fun in the messy middle of the conversation with no attachment to the desired outcome you might have come in with.
  • Explore possibilities that arise even if they feel impractical and share your thoughts and feelings with trust and vulnerability.

You can always come back to your short-term need in the end (if it even still feels relevant). It will land differently because now it can be contextualized as one small part of a generous connection.

The Practice is What Matters

Yes, it’s ironic to extol the virtues of cultivating generous connections by listing its transactional benefits. We believe that a habit of kindness and compassion will “pay off” in the long run. We also believe that a habit of kindness and compassion rewires the brain circuitry responsible for our mindsets. Becoming a generous connector turns you into a person who attracts more opportunities.

Treating people with kindness and compassion is its own reward, so there’s that. But also, treating people with kindness and compassion is contagious. What goes around, comes around.

If your taste in examples runs more towards popular culture than 19th century French literature, check out the ripple effects in this clip from the 1947 movie Miracle on 34th Street when Santa connects generously with young Peter and his mom.

Are your employees and business associates rooting for you? How about your customers? Rather than keeping score, perhaps you should consider connecting generously with them?

How to Apologize

Last week I had a conversation with my friend and colleague, Ford Hatamiya about a leadership development program he’s designing. We talked about practical ways to help organizational leaders behave more empathetically. One idea that didn’t make the cut was to teach leaders how to apologize.

There’s a scene about people’s pent-up need to hear an apology in one of my all-time favorite movies. A Thousand Clowns (1965) stars Jason Robards playing Murray, an iconoclastic comedy writer living in Manhattan. Murray risks losing custody of his nephew if continues to live his unconventional lifestyle. When Murray falls in love with Sandy (Barbara Harris), one of the social workers assigned to his case, he promises her that he’ll get his act together and find a steady job. He interviews for several jobs but can’t bring himself to accept any of them.

Knowing that he will have to explain why he turned down the offers to Sandy, he thinks about how he’ll break the news. When Sandy arrives at Murray’s apartment to cook dinner for him and his nephew, Murray offers Sandy an apology. The apology (1:26) is heartwarming, funny, and creative, but it ultimately misses the mark. In the end, Murray says the words, but doesn’t feel the feelings.

Apologies are not about what happened

Apologies are not about what you did. That’s what explanations are for. Apologies exist to repair damage and reduce harm. Admitting that you made a mistake is helpful. Demonstrating that you understand and feel remorse about the impact of that mistake is transformational.

An apology has the power to shift a relationship. A great apology creates space for generosity and compassion. Apologies bring attention to our vulnerabilities. We are altered by the offer of a heartfelt apology. The expression of the apology invites those we’ve harmed to connect with us more deeply.

Some apologies are designed to quickly reestablish a temporary imbalance. If I step on someone’s toes, the body language and tone of voice accompanying, “I’m sorry,” restores the status quo. The quick, rebalancing apology is the stuff of social norms. Like the how-are-you-I-am-fine exchange, saying “sorry” can feel more like a reflex than a concerted effort to reduce harm.

What the world needs now is More Harm Reduction

A proper apology requires virtuosic empathy. I must sit with my own feelings long enough to distill out extraneous emotions that will undermine the apology. I might feel angry that someone triggered my regrettable behavior. I might feel embarrassed by how I acted. I might feel afraid to acknowledge that I have needs I’m not proud of. All these emotions are useful to reflect on and none of them are about the impact your behavior had on others.

When we refuse to acknowledge our impact on others, shared societal challenges metastasize into uncontainable crises.

Apologies don’t require you to change your core values or deeply held beliefs. You only need to accept that we should avoid causing unnecessary harm. When we refuse to acknowledge our impact on others, shared societal challenges metastasize into uncontainable crises. Consider David Brook’s ominously titled opinion piece for the New York Times, America is Falling Apart at the Seams (July 13, 2022). In the article, Brooks catalogues the evidence for the headline’s pessimistic claim.

An Example

Let’s say I was raised to believe, like many who grew up in the Southern United States, that it’s a sign of respect to refer to people as “sir” or “ma’am.” One day I say, “Thank you, ma’am” to a stranger who holds the elevator door for me. Instead of a smile, I’m met with an icy stare. Maybe the person who held the door takes advantage of our private time in the elevator to tell me, “I’m sure you didn’t intend this, but when you refer to me as ma’am, I feel uncomfortable because I don’t identify as female.”

In the heat of the moment, a dizzying array of feelings might overwhelm me. At best, I might be able to mumble “I apologize,” as I stare at the floor indicator light, silently willing the elevator to speed up. But what happens when I encounter the same person in the elevator the following day?

Should I explain my views on gender identity? Should I minimize the incident by saying that it was just an unconscious reflex, and I didn’t mean anything by it? Should I offer helpful feedback about trying to be less sensitive? No, no, and Hell no.

When I shift my focus from my perspective to the perspective of the person who felt uncomfortable, I create the possibility for learning. I stop seeing the person as wrong and I start seeing the person as different. Again, I’m welcome to hold on to my beliefs about gender and etiquette. But to craft a real apology means legitimizing (not agreeing with) other worldviews. I’m not apologizing to keep the peace with someone I disagree with. I’m apologizing to repair harm. The person held the elevator door for me. I can reciprocate with an apology that opens the door to a new way of relating.

Here’s one version of what I might say the next time we meet:

I thought about what you said when I called you, “ma’am.” I tried to imagine what it would be like to have people invalidate me by relating to me as something I’m not. I’m sorry I did that the other day. It must have been especially maddening since you had just done me a favor. For what it’s worth, you’ve given me a lot to think about.

Too much? Maybe. Also, maybe not enough. All you need to do is find words that make things better for anyone hurt by what happened.

I started this post suggesting that crafting apologies might work as an exercise for leadership development. Even if you don’t say you’re sorry, there are benefits to simply preparing the apology. When you force yourself to articulate someone else’s perspective, you enlarge the boundaries of your tolerance.

Here’s a quick, practical, 4-step guide to apologizing from U.C. Berkeley’s Greater Good in Action Website.

Now, let’s all get out there and start apologizing!