what the other person is saying and how they’re feeling.
• If the other person specifically asks for your suggestions or feedback, you may provide it.
• Recognize the value focus can have in building high-trust relationships—you can’t meet the needs of everyone, but you can do your best to meet the needs of the person right in front of you.
Have you ever had incorrect intent ascribed to your actions? Why did that happen?
If you’d asked me about declaring my intent during my early rough-and-tumble, push-my-way-to-the-top leadership years, I would have told you that you were nuts. If you think of leadership as a war of political gamesmanship and cutthroat advancement, then you’ll likely resonate with this Victorian military advice: “Conceal your purpose and hide your progress; do not disclose the extent of your designs until they cannot be opposed, until the combat is over.”
IN THE CORPORATE WORLD, DUE IN NO SMALL PART TO THE WORK OF FRANKLINCOVEY AND SOME OF OUR WELL-RESPECTED COMPETITORS, MACHIAVELLIAN ATTITUDES HAVE EVOLVED INTO THE DESIRE TO BUILD CULTURES OF HIGH TRANSPARENCY, COLLABORATION, AND TRUST. TODAY I DON’T KNOW A SINGLE PERSON WHO WANTS TO WORK IN AN ENVIRONMENT OF CONCEALMENT AND ONE-UPMANSHIP.
This adversarial mindset used to be commonplace in almost every organization—part of an “eat or be eaten” culture. It may still be the prevailing wisdom while driving in New York City (where signaling your intention to change lanes only invites other drivers to mash the accelerator and close the space). In the corporate world, due in no small part to the work of FranklinCovey and some of our well-respected competitors, Machiavellian attitudes have evolved into the desire to build cultures of high transparency, collaboration, and trust. Today I don’t know a single person who wants to work in an environment of concealment and one-upmanship.
If this outdated belief describes your leadership style and work culture, let me save you some time and heartache. In the long run, you will lose and lose badly. Once you gain the reputation for deception and concealing your true intentions, no one (and I mean no one) will trust you. And without trust, you’re doomed.
Just ask the trust expert, Stephen M. R. Covey. In his bestselling book The Speed of Trust, he writes, “We judge ourselves by our intentions and others by their observable behavior.” So even if you actively try to conceal what you’re up to, people will judge you based on what they see. If you want to succeed, don’t withhold information—openly share. State your intent so others can’t misinterpret your actions.
Let’s talk straight: Every one of us has hidden agendas with relative depths of transparency. When you come to own this fact—that you, too, are simultaneously juggling hidden agendas in every facet of your life—then and only then can you determine how willing you are to surface them and be truthful. By openly declaring your intent so that others minimize or eliminate their suspicion about your motives, you are able to fully acknowledge your agenda and engage in a healthy and, hopefully, mutually beneficial discussion free of entanglements and obfuscation. Simply put, own your messes, including your hidden ones.
Declaring our intent in conversations, especially in adversarial or high-stakes conversations, is crucial to creating mutual understanding, if not mutual agreement.
I’ll never forget a principle I was taught in a public relations class. Loosely interpreted, it was, “Absent real facts, people make stuff up.” Declaring our intent in conversations, especially in adversarial or high-stakes conversations, is crucial to creating mutual understanding, if not mutual agreement.
A few months ago, “Peter,” a junior colleague, scheduled a meeting with me in Outlook. Although there wasn’t an agenda, or even a subject line, I agreed to meet out of respect for him. I didn’t know this person very well, so a meeting was unusual but not out of line. As a result, we sat somewhat uncomfortably in a conference room where the conversation, primarily led by Peter, meandered for about fifteen minutes. It touched on a variety of loosely linked topics with questions, comments, and even judgments on nearly every project I was leading. Peter seemed to want to give me feedback, but because the topics were so far-ranging and scattered, I couldn’t discern what to focus on.
Finally, as I was losing my patience, I asked matter-of-factly about the purpose of the meeting. Peter stammered and attempted to clarify, but continued to meander for a few more increasingly irritating minutes. Eventually, I said, “I’m sorry, I’m still not clear on the purpose of our conversation. We’re touching on a broad range of topics, but I don’t understand how I can help you.” Let me add that I think Peter is a fine person, high in character, hardworking, well educated, and dedicated. We might not see all things eye to eye, but he reminds me of a younger version of myself (that’s both a compliment and a critique). However, because I was listening with increasing suspicion, I wondered if this was worth my time. Truly, people matter—but so did the two major projects I needed to land that day.
I labored once again to gain clarification. This time, Peter declared what had been on his mind all along. It was a topic completely different from any of the “ground softeners” up to that point. He had a very clear point of view on something that needed my support. Peter now spoke with convincing language, and I leaned in and listened intently. That’s one benefit of declaring your intent up front—as human beings, thoughts and emotions are swirling around inside our head as we attempt to make meaning from what they are saying and discern their real motive. We spend much of our attention and energy discerning people’s intent and then working through how we’ll respond. (The fact of the matter is, when we’re guessing, we’re often wrong.) But declaring one’s intent cuts through much of the noise and mental static that impedes true listening. And that’s what I found had happened to me. Suddenly, all the irritation and negative stories percolating in my head vanished and I could focus on the real issue. Unfortunately, it had taken nearly fifty-five minutes of a sixty-minute meeting to get there!
After the meeting was over and we were walking out of the conference room, Peter said to me, “That went better than I thought.”
I replied, “What do you mean?”
“You’re quite intimidating, Scott,” he continued, “and I thought this would be a very difficult conversation.”
Wow! I had been frustrated, even angry, at Peter’s lack of organization and clarity. Turns out that his inability to talk straight and declare up front his intent was partially based in fear. I’m guessing he’d been clear on his intent in his own mind, but my previous behaviors and reputation had likely led him to believe my “brand” was one of arrogance and intimidation. Now, let’s be clear, I’m not taking responsibility for his share of the meeting. I’m just more mindful now of how I can contribute positively or negatively to others living this principle.
The next time you’re in a conversation where something could be left open to misinterpretation (which is every conversation), remember this thought from Dr. Blaine Lee, author of The Power Principle: Influence With Honor: “Nearly all, if not all, conflict arises from mismatched or unfulfilled expectations.” Make sure that what you intend people to hear and see is what they actually hear and see. The less clear you are, the more you are responsible for their lack of clarity.
Think for a moment about the stresses in your professional and personal life. How many of them come from mismatched or unfulfilled expectations? What you believe should be someone’s
