How to lead through any crisis
In Season 5 of the revered sitcom Scrubs, young doctor J.D. is seen caring for a terminally ill patient. The conversation goes:
J.D.: Look, Mrs. Wilk, you have something called systemic amyloidosis. Now, it’s in your liver now, but eventually it will shut down all your organs. There’s a treatment, but it’s very invasive, and at best, it’ll just give you a little more time.
Mrs. Wilk: Well, I’ve had a great life, so-
J.D.: Say no more. I’m gonna take amazing care of you.
Several scenes later we catch back up with Mrs. Wilk, now being cared for by attending physician Dr. Cox:
J.D.: What are you doing here?
Dr. Cox: Mrs. Wilk was asking me some questions that I actually thought would be best answered by you.
Mrs. Wilk: Why did that sweaty attorney ask me if my affairs were in order?
J.D.: Because I want to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.’
Mrs. Wilk: As comfortable as possible? For what?
J.D.: For the place that you’re going. You know, the big, puffy, clouds? The bright lights? All your old friends?
Mrs. Wilk: Seattle?
J.D.: No, no, no, not–not Seattle. The–you know, the dying peacefully place.
Mrs. Wilk: What are you talking about?
J.D.: This morning you told me you’d had a great life.
Mrs. Wilk: Exactly, and I’d like to continue it.
J.D.: Oh, this is just a misunderstanding, I’m so sorry.
Dr. Cox: He’s tried to kill before.
While these scenes are played for laughs, they underscore a crucially important fact. Our relationships live and die on our ability to communicate effectively, sometimes literally.
No small misunderstanding
Not every conversational snafu is going to have life or death consequences, of course. But little miscommunications build up over time and, like cracks in a sidewalk, can eventually crumble the entire foundation of even the strongest relationships.
More importantly, misunderstandings are relative to the strength and length of a relationship. A faithful, loving husband of 40 years isn’t going to wreck his marriage by coming home with 12 bags of flour instead of a dozen roses. But crack a joke at a new colleague, boss, or significant other that doesn’t go over well? It can be awfully difficult to recover, because the forgiveness and grace forged over time hasn’t yet been earned.
In the finale of the episode, J.D. is speaking to Dr. Kelso, the Chief of Medicine for the entire hospital.
Dr. Kelso: I heard Mrs. Wilk gave you the axe.
J.D.: She said “I’ve lead a great life.” And every doctor in the world knows that’s code for “I’m ready to die.”
Dr. Kelso: The point is, you think Mrs. Wilk is old enough to die. I’m betting she doesn’t agree.
We all think we are mind readers. It’s a natural tendency to assume that we can intuit the thoughts, feelings, and beliefs of others. We demonstrate this tendency when we buy a gift, or expect our best friend to “know me better than I know myself.” This feeling strengthens the longer we’ve been in a relationship.
In reality, we’re terrible at it.
For the science on why we misunderstand other people’s minds so badly, I highly recommend Nicholas Epley’s book Mindwise.
That’s why I’ve made it my life’s work to teach perspective-taking, a technique for taking on and understanding different points-of-view. Instead of imagining what someone else wants, recognize that it’s incredibly unlikely to ever have the same perspective as someone else, given how vastly different each of our lived experiences are. So, instead of guessing, imagining, or assuming, simply ask someone for their perspective.
All J.D. had to do was say, “Mrs. Wilk, I want to make sure I’m understanding you fully. Would you like us to try everything in our power to extend your life, even if it’s painful, or are you ready to die, and we can make you as comfortable as possible during that process?”
If you shuttered at the idea of having such direct communication, it’s only because we’re not used to it. But imagine if it were the norm, how many miscommunications could be avoided?
Of course, it would make for lousy sitcoms.
Marine to Screen
Communication is hard enough without a spotty Internet connection and low-quality webcam muddying up the waters.
So when Jason Tanner, the CEO of Applied Frameworks business consulting, had to shift all his upcoming workshops from conference centers to video conferencing platforms, he knew he had to double-down on his training.
What training?
Jason spent 10 years in the U.S. Marine Corp, where he learned, among other things, how to communicate with superhuman-like efficiency and effectiveness.
I had the incredible honor of chatting with Jason about his company’s 2020 Pivot. What struck me most about our conversation wasn’t just his philosophy on direct responsibility,
“It’s me, only me, no exceptions. Which means that no matter what conflict, what upset, what issues arise, I own my own power to figure out how to navigate through that.”
It was the method in which he delivered his message. I’ve never spoken to someone with such a surgical command and use of language. And it strikes me as the primary reason his team of 10 employees, who depend on him for their families’ security, survived the Pivot without having to let a single person go.
Listen/watch to my conversation with Jason Tanner to discover how he both helps his clients’ teams stay truly connected during the age of remote work, how he led his own team to the other side of chaos, and what we can learn about effective communication from his training as a Marine.
