Confusing judgments with facts

I don't blog much about work, since I try to keep my work life and rest of my life somewhat separate. I also have never succumbed to carrying a Crackberry for work, but that is the topic for a future blog. When we look at where we invest our lives, we will see that we spend considerable time on the job. So part of the pain that leads to growth occurs here.

This was painfully obvious in a meeting this week. We were conducting long term planning, and had worked in small teams to develop SWOT analyses around various aspects of our processes and environment. The team I was on had created a very comprehensive document as a result of our efforts. When it came time to review our document with the larger team, there were few questions. I thought it was a reflection of how well we had performed our work.

Until THE question. "Is this bullet under weaknesses a judgment, or is it a fact?". It was my written comment that was brought into question. I immediately reacted, and began to defend what I had written. I should have realized I was sleep deprived for a week due to a bad cold, and I was not myself. If I had realized this, I would have just answered the question. Instead, I launched into a rationalization of why my comment was valid.

After about a two minute diatribe (I was really not feeling well), I paused. Someone on the other side of the conference table stepped in to save me. "Maybe we can just reword this?" I paused for a moment, and sheepishly mumbled "yes, I think we can do that".

The pain of the exchange hit almost instantly, and I wasn't happy with how I reacted. I was also not happy about what I'd written. I am in the habit of doing an acidity test on my writing, because I do have a tendency to make a matter-of-fact statement when it may just be an opinion. Bullet Point Bob. I can also highlight the negative, when maybe the better approach would be showing the positive. This feeling of regret followed me home, and into my thoughts for a day.

I once heard someone make a comment about another person. I am paraphrasing, but it was along the lines of "that guy can tell someone they are full of crap and have them walk away smiling". When I tell people they are full of crap, they generally walk away pissed off. How can we point out a problem without it looking like a negative? Jack Nicholson's approach in "A Few Good Men" may be good for some issues, but this won't fly in the average workplace.



Life is messy, full of bad news, and replete with issues to resolve. My instinct is to tell people what they did wrong, or state the obvious solution, when the more mindful thing to do is help them see what a better solution may look like. I see parents telling their kids "don't do that!". When maybe the response should be "do this".  Many of us carry this need to correct others with us as we make life's journey. Robert's Rules of Order; it's not just a book that outlines the rules, it's part of my name. I fight the need to tell people what not to do.

It's hard to unlearn the stuff that causes us discomfort or pain, but I trust in the fact that humans continuously change. Our chemistry and brains are created that way, and I know that once we can identify something we don't like, we can continue to work on improving it. If we don't actively participate in managing the change, the change may actively manage us.

I work in a cube environment, and one of my colleagues and I often "prairie dog". I pose philosophical questions over the wall, and he answers them. We then discuss the topic, and others may chime in to assist, or sometimes to tell us (okay, me...) to shut up. Today he said something that is profound - "happiness is a personal decision". As simple as that. Happiness is a personal decision. So choose to be happy, have positive thoughts, don't judge (unless that's your job) and share with others how your enjoyment increases as you make positive changes in your life. We all need each other as role models on the journey. As we implement the changes, the pain of the learning goes away. Or the idea that pain goes away is my judgment, and not a fact. A question I shall pose over the cubicle wall...