“That’s because everyone plays kickball in the cul-desac, and I love to play kickball.”
“What I’d like to talk about is not your practice time; we’ll get back to that later. [Place a bookmark.] I want to talk about the fact that you lied to me.” [Announce the new topic.]
Then you talk about lying. She says she’ll never ever do it again, but you fear that she doesn’t fully understand the consequence of her lying, and so you choose to explain what happens when you can no longer take her at her word. You treat this as a teaching moment, explain the natural consequences that result from lying, and work through the problem, and she apologizes. Then she wants to get back to the trouble with her piano practice time, which you resolve by moving it to a later hour.
Pull out, announce the change in topic, confront the new problem, work it through to a satisfactory resolution, and then decide whether you want to return to the original infraction. Of course, this can work only if you spot the new problem and then choose to deal with it. This can be difficult when you’re already trying to handle another problem, but that’s how the world of human interaction unfolds. New problems emerge all the time.
Sometimes you can experience three different emergent problems in a couple of minutes, and you have to decide which ones to confront. For instance, you’re talking with your husband, who is out of work and isn’t spending much time seeking employment. You make enough to support the two of you, and he’s starting to look far too comfortable staying at home and surfing the net. You’re from the school of thought that says that if you lose your old job, your new job is finding a job, and so you step up to that accountability conversation.
Your husband responds by saying that it’s not his fault that the economy is so horrible. Then he starts playing on your emotions by explaining how awful he feels and saying that you should be more sympathetic to him because offshore workers have ruined his career.
When your husband was first laid off, he didn’t do much to find a new job, and so you jointly developed a plan in which he agreed to work at getting work. That included eight hours a day of looking, sending out résumés, filling out applications, and so forth. He’s not doing it, and that’s the broken promise you want to talk about. He obviously wants to talk about a whole lot of other things, not his broken promise. You step back to the original problem by returning to the notion that he’s supposed to be working at getting a job: That’s the gap you describe. Now he calls you a nag and asks you to get off his back.
At this point you have several issues you may want to address. To help select the right problem, let’s return to our CPR model. First, there’s the content: Is he going to look for work? That’s the original problem, and it’s a big deal to you. You’re not going to be easily sidetracked. Second, there’s the pattern: This is the third time you’ve had to bring up the issue. Third, there are several relationship issues: He’s playing with your emotions by asking for sympathy instead of talking about the violated promise. He’s trying to sidetrack you, and that feels manipulative. He’s labeling you as a nag and taking the focus off the original problem, and this feels insulting.
To help you choose from the CPR model which combination of these issues to deal with, you can apply the questions we asked in Chapter 1. When the turf is changing with each paragraph, it’s probably easiest to ask yourself, “What is it that I really want?” This will help you decide which issues to address.
Explosive Emotions Take Over
Now let’s take emergent problems to the final level. The other person goes to silence or violence and becomes quite emotional. This person isn’t merely pushing his or her argument too hard; he or she is becoming angry and abusive. Now what? You can’t use the standard methods for creating safety until the other person has calmed down. Let’s look at an example.
Going “Posthole”
You work as a manager for a small family-owned company that imports gardening implements from the Far East. You notice that Carl, a rather large, gruff fellow who works as your accountant, hasn’t finished a month-end report that you asked to have by the end of yesterday. You walk into Carl’s office and start an accountability discussion.
To make sure you don’t set a bad tone, you describe the gap: “Carl, I noticed that the monthly report wasn’t in my box this morning. Did you run into a problem?” Carl explains that he didn’t know that it really mattered; besides, he really hates doing it. You don’t leap to your power. Instead, you share a couple of natural consequences. Carl then states that he’ll get right on it. No big deal.
That’s how you expect the interaction to unfold. You act professionally, and your efforts pay off. However, there are exceptions. For instance, you carefully describe the problem, but Carl hasn’t read this book. Despite the fact that you have been the picture of professionalism, he becomes angry and says: “I’m your best employee, I miss one deadline, and you’re all over me. Leave me alone!”
Then he grabs a sales sample, a half-size posthole digger (one of your gardening products), and throws it at a file cabinet. Now what do you do?
What Is This Thing Called Anger?
To deal with a person who becomes emotional (this includes anger, frustration, fear, sorrow, etc.), we have to get to the source of all feelings. Let’s return to the Path to Action.
Once again, emotions don’t come from outer space. We create them ourselves. A person violates an expectation, we see it, and then we tell ourselves a story. The story then leads to a feeling.
To create a strong feeling, we tell a story that includes a strong value. For instance, a coworker lets you down on purpose. She disrespects you. Your boss double-checked your work because he doesn’t trust you. Jordan got the raise because the policy is unfair. Your neighbor drove too fast because she doesn’t care about your safety. These are sacred values. You become quite upset. Then, of course, your adrenaline kicks in, and it’s off to the world of strong feelings, weak mind.
We become righteously indignant only when others have tread on sacred ground.
If you want to deal with your own emotions, you have to deal with your own stories. You have to find a way to tell them differently, leading to a different feeling and different actions. But how do you deal with other people’s emotions? How do you affect their stories?
Take Carl. You ask him about a simple report, and he goes “posthole.” He’s one of your most level-headed employees. Obviously, there’s more going on here than meets the eye. Despite the fact that you started the conversation with a professional description of the problem, he wiggled out of it. He raised his voice, told you to leave him alone, and tossed an object at a file cabinet. Although you may not know exactly what to do, you figure that his hurling a sharp object can’t be a good sign.
You do know some things. First, Carl isn’t simply responding to your opening question. You’re picking up the conversation in the middle of a lengthy argument Carl has been making to himself. Second, Carl is not in a position to talk about the issue calmly and rationally. He’s feeling the effects of adrenaline. Third, to diffuse the anger you’ll have to get at Carl’s underlying story, and he’s the one who made it up, not you.
Dealing with Anger
First, Ensure Your Safety
Fortunately, Carl gave you the corporate, not the Neanderthal, version of a fight. He held thousands of years of genetic engineering in check by not attacking you. Then again, he did throw something at an innocent file cabinet. You figure that he was putting on a show and not out of control. You don’t believe that you’re in danger.