The Circle Project

Mind the incentives

-David Robinson

I just watched Michael Moore’s film, Sicko. It’s about health care – or the lack of health care - in the United States. Among the many salient points made in the film, I was reminded that one need only look at the incentive structures of a system to see the actual values (as opposed to the espoused values) of the system. For instance, Moore makes the point that doctors in France are offered incentives according to the number of people they help, where as doctors in the United States are offered incentives according to the amount of money they save insurance companies. Simply put, in France, the money is used in support of the people and in the United States the people are used in support of the money. Values betray themselves in actions. Incentives are nothing more than values in actions.

When I was a graduate student I had the opportunity to assist a great theatre director named Bob Moss. One day at lunch I asked him for the single best bit of advice he could give me if I wanted to be successful in the theatre. His answer was immediate, “Oh, that’s easy,” he said, “if you want to be successful in anything, simply do what you say you can do.” Sage advice.

I think of Bob Moss every time I enter a company and read their value statements. Generally, The Circle Project is hired because there is a gap between the stated value of a company and how it is being expressed (or not) in the actions of the company. When an organization says, “we value team,” but the reward structure is based on individual merit, then there is a gap. When the company says diversity is a core value but evidence of diversity disappears the higher up the ladder you climb, then there is a gap.

Gaps are not always indictments. Sometimes they are incentives. Because they betray what we really value as opposed to what we say we value, gaps present opportunities to either align our actions with our words or to change our words. They provide the opportunity for us to not only do what we say we can do, but more importantly, be what we say we are.

Taking positions

-David Robinson

Todd was passing through Seattle on his way to Portland. When he visits, I like to probe his point of view. He’s Canadian, a gifted thinker, and because he concerns himself with the happenings in the world he always has interesting perspectives. Since we are in an election season, I questioned him about what he sees as the hidden challenges we face in the United States. His insight was especially compelling:

“The great challenge facing America” he said, “particularly evident in this election season, is that you take positions too quickly. It’s almost impossible for you to have substantive debate about any issue because you rush to defend your positions before you’ve had the opportunity to consider the worth of the opposing point of view. In fact, listening to the opposition is treated as a sign of weakness, immediately branded as ‘wishy-washy.’”

Listen to the language used in framing the nightly news. We are red states and blue states, pro-life or pro-choice, for guns or against them. Have we lost our middle ground? Are we stuck in a vicious cycle capable only of trying to apply tame solutions to wicked problems, thereby further complicating them? Do we really believe that we can learn anything of substance from our candidates in a debate format that allows only 2 minutes for response and a minute for rebuttal? Do we really want to hear a substantive debate? Would we take the time to listen, eschew our sound-byte mentality?

Do an experiment: listen to the conversations around you, not for substance but for the framing. I’m writing this in a coffee house and I just heard someone say, “Republicans are idiots!” Listen to the story you tell yourself; count the number of times a day you engage in justifying your point of view, how many times a day do you plant a flag in the sand to claim that your view is right? Count the number of times you reduce or negate  someone because of their opinion? How many times a day do you reduce your self?

As Todd suggested, we would do well to step back and listen and consider that the other point of view might be as valid as ours. We would do well if we refused to reduce our selves and our issues to the simplistic. What would our places of work and our communities be like if we addressed diversity because we valued it and had no need to justify our values with a business case? What if we let go of the misguided notion that there is a standardized test capable of measuring individual learning? What if we took the time to deal with a global economic challenge like illegal immigration in all of its complexity and believed we were capable of more than building a wall?

Further reading: For an interesting discussion of this idea of reducing to a single point, see Amin Maalouf's In the Name of Identity: Violence and the Need to Belong, and David Berreby's Us and Them.

Stereotypes are spells

“Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so.” -Douglas Adams

I’d been in the car for a few days, driving non-stop from Louisville, Kentucky, to Stockton, California, with barely a single stop between the two. I had a new job, one of my first out of college. I was going to work with friends in a small theatre and I was eager to get to California. I was eager to start my life as an adult and as an artist.

In school, as an artist, I thought had two choices: New York City or California. I believed that New York, the big city (a place I had never been) would eat me like a small snack, a bit of cheese on a toothpick. California was my choice and held my destiny and I was in a rush to begin. My stop was in Denver to see my family and sleep a long night before the second leg of my epic journey.

I had a big breakfast with my parents and was in my room repacking my bag when my mother came in and sat down on the bed. That was the signal. She never came into my room and sat on the bed unless she had something weighty to say, something of great import to deliver. As a boy, it usually meant that I was in dire trouble. I stopped my packing, sat and readied myself for the news. This was it: she told me that I was in grave danger. She begged me to be wary because, as everyone knew, “Californians have no morals.” I could be led astray “out there” if I was less than vigilant. Assuring her I’d be careful, I put my bag in the car, and drove toward Sodom.

Growing up I also heard that “all cabbies will try and cheat me” and that I should never ride on public buses because, “only dangerous people ride on public buses.” I remember this was confusing because my grandmother took the bus everyday to her job in a candy factory; she was a tiny woman who enjoyed a good laugh; she wasn’t dangerous. Nevertheless, the stereotype, “only dangerous people ride buses,” stuck with me. I grew up actively avoiding public transportation. And taxi cabs. I became a world-class distance walker. When the day came that I had to - unwillingly step onto a public bus, I was terrified. I was in San Francisco and my friends (the moral-less Californians) wanted to take a bus across town. We were late for a dinner date. I pulled out all the stops, my bus avoidance techniques, my manipulations, my pleas for exercise glanced off my companions. They thought I was kidding. So the bus pulled up and I stepped on with all the dangerous people.

The riders who looked bored than dangerous. I found a seat near a door in case I needed to quickly escape. My seatmate was an elderly woman and after a few moments we struck up a conversation and had a nice chat. I confessed my virgin rider status and she reassured me that I would quickly master the art of the bus. I learned that she was on her way home from work. She’d taken the bus every day for over thirty years. I stepped off the bus unscathed and confused. There were no dangerous people on that bus; did I spin the wheel of fortune and manage to get on the only safe bus in San Francisco or was I given bad information about buses?

Of course, one bus ride did not dispel (dis-spell, as in, remove the spell) the fear instilled in me in my youth but after several rides, several personal experiences of bus riding, the evidence no longer supported the “dangerous people” stereotype. I let it go. I mastered the art of the bus.

My experience with buses and Californians taught me an invaluable lesson: If you want to know the truth of a stereotype, you have to step toward it; you have to take a few rides on buses to know for certain if what you heard is true. I began to live wild and hailed a cab!

Language is powerful.

Several years ago I went to a lecture given by Don Miguel Ruiz and he told a story about language. Basically he said that people in the United States misunderstand the word, “spell.” To spell someone is not a kind of weird voodoo or magic act. He said, “Tell a little girl that she is fat and you have spelled her forever.” “Language,” he reiterated, “is very powerful.”

Stereotypes are spells!

I remember the day, stepping out of a cab having just had a very lively conversation with the cabbie, when it occurred to me that no one in my family, none of those that warned me about cabs, had ever actually been in a cab! I grew up in a suburb. My parents, my grandparents, my aunts and my uncles all owned and drove cars. How could they possibly know that “all cabbies try to cheat their passengers?” Their fear was based on nothing in particular. Rumor, perhaps a story, but certainly not experience.  They transferred their fear to me and I took it in and carried it with me for years. It shaped my beliefs. It informed my experiences. It limited my choices. I laughed when the spell was broken. So many lost opportunities, so many worn-out shoes!

Standing on the sidewalk, having just paid my honest cabbie, I had the kind of revelation you have, the kind of insight you see once a spell has actually been broken. A chain of very simple truths unfolded before me. They looked something like this:
•    At the base of every stereotype is fear.
•    Fear is not generated by that which is feared (i.e. buses, cabs, others) but by the one living in fear.
•    Stereotypes are not passive, they generates and perpetuate fear; fear generates stereotypes. It’s a vicious circle.
•    Fear is always projected outward. To reiterate: its purpose is to create more fear (in others) and foster more stereotypes (about others).
•    Finally, stereotypes serve three specific purposes, 1) to mask the fear, 2) to justify the response to the fear, and 3) to elevate the status of the one who is afraid. 

Circle Project featured at Summer Institute

A unique learning environment is created each summer when the Summer Institute for Intercultural Communication takes place in Portland, Oregon, on the campus of Reed College.

Circle Project co-founders Patti Digh and David Robinson will once again this July offer their week-long course on experiential learning as part of the Institute. Scheduled for July 14-18, this workshop got rave reviews last year. Come, join us for a week of active, embodied learning!

With her colleague Kichiro Hayashi from Tokyo, Patti will also teach a week-long course called "Hiding in Plain Sight: Surfacing Cultural Meanings Through Narrative and Story" from July 21-25 during the Institute. Join us to learn about the power of story.

Co-Founder Patti Digh featured in recent Podcast

Circle Project co-founders Patti Digh and David Robinson will present a 3-hour workshop on diversity and inclusion for ASTD Cascadia on the campus of Reed College in Portland, Oregon, on July 16th, 2008.

In preparation for that event, representatives from the ASTD Cascadia chapter interviewed Patti for their podcast, an excerpt from which is available for listening above. Another excerpt focused on living intentionally is available on Patti's blog, 37days.

Circle Project's Robinson gets rave reviews for NYC directorial debut

Circle Project co-founder, David Robinson, directed a play entitled "Dirt" in New York City this past August to rave reviews. "Dirt" explores what it is to be "the Other" and the impact of internalized racism, messages strongly connected to the diversity work of The Circle Project itself. 

This review appeared on Aug 18, 2007:

"See this show.

Because it reminds us how rarely, and how inaccurately, we too often see each other and ourselves. On the subway after seeing Dirt, I thought hard about how I was looking at the strangers around me: the generalizations I was making about them; the lack of eye contact. See this show.

'My name is Sad. I'm 30 years old.' We hear this phrase repeatedly throughout this one-man play, in different incarnations. Sometimes he says he's 25 instead, sometimes he follows it with phrases such as 'I'm a piece of shit. I won't contest that.' Sad is a self-degrading illegal immigrant from Iraq, a peddler of roses, a self-confessed liar, a lover of America. He is the product of racism; he knows he is inferior, he knows he doesn't deserve to look an American in the eye, or sit on a park bench, or use a public toilet. Sad's monologue, directed straight at us, jumps back and forth. Through repetition, in spite of the lies, we see greater layers of truth, of who he is, where he came from, and where he now lives. But predominantly we are left with how terribly he views himself in comparison to the beautiful fair-skinned Americans.

See this show. The script, written by Robert Schneider and translated from German by Paul Dvorak, is rich, poetic, and unique. Christopher John Domig is captivating, highly skilled, and utterly heartbreaking as Sad. David Robinson's direction is smart and beautiful, relying heavily on contrasts. The elements come together with skill and precision, creating a true piece of art."

Digh featured in Chronicle of Higher Education

What Can Be Done to Diversify Executive Suites?
From The Chronicle of Higher Education, September 28, 2007              

Although the American population is growing more diverse, and colleges are seeking to enroll students and hire faculty members from many different backgrounds, the top leadership at most higher-education institutions remains quite homogeneous. For example, a 2005 Chronicle survey of about 1,300 presidents at four-year institutions, of whom 764 responded, found that nearly 89 percent were white and almost 81 percent were male.

At The Chronicle's second annual Presidents Forum, held in Washington in June, Mickey L. Burnim, president of Bowie State University; Patricia Digh, co-founder of the Global Diversity Roundtable and the Circle Project; and Laura Skandera Trombley, president of Pitzer College, discussed the issue and what can be done to diversify colleges' executive suites. Following is an excerpt of their answers to questions from the session's moderator, Sara Hebel, a senior reporter at The Chronicle, and from members of the audience.

Hebel: How much attention should institutions be paying to the issue of diversity among their top administrators? What can colleges do to hire and promote a wider range of top officials?

Trombley: Diversity has to be a goal of the board of trustees and viewed as a core value of the institution; otherwise, it will always remain on the margins. No one group should serve as an institution's symbol of diversity. It cannot be students; it cannot be staff; it cannot be faculty. Efforts to increase diversity have to involve everyone.             

Trustees must support diversity initiatives, do outreach, and emphasize when they are conducting presidential searches that not only are they interested in a diverse pool of candidates, but also that the institution is ready for that diverse pool of candidates. I have been a candidate where it was clear that I was the "diversity candidate," and everyone was thrilled that their institution was so forward-thinking. But, in my view, if I was such a big surprise, that indicated that more foundational work needed to take place at that institution. Colleges can accomplish that by asking diversity experts to come in and help educate various groups on their campuses.

It is also important to have good institutional data. At Pitzer College, we know, for example, that 45 percent of the faculty members are women and 36 percent are people of color, and that 32 percent of the students are students of color. We have an institutional-research Web site that provides all that information, and that forms the basis for our discussions.              

Hebel: What steps do leaders need to take to make sure that diversity is something that their campuses focus on?

Burnim: I agree that trustee leadership is critically important on campuses, that board members set a tone. To create the right climate or culture, a president must first articulate the value and the importance of having a diverse campus — of having diversity not just within the student body and the faculty ranks, but within the administration as well. Second, the president must walk the walk and make sure that the cabinet and senior leadership are diverse. What one does speaks a lot louder than what one says.              

For example, at Bowie State University, we have spent a lot of time refining the strategic plan. Before we finalize that process, I want to make sure that we explicitly address the notion of diversity and what that means for our campus, and that we have some measurable objectives against which to gauge our progress. We need to put the right accountability measures and standards in place. We must also provide adequate resources, and recognize and reward behaviors that help us reach the outcomes that we want.

Hebel: Ms. Digh, you have described the lack of diversity in university leadership as a "wicked problem" for which simplistic or short-term solutions will not work.             

Digh: The phrase "wicked problems and tame solutions" has come out of looking at diversity issues for about two decades and recognizing lately that I have made the mistake of proposing easy solutions to very complex problems. Racism in this country is a wicked problem. It is attached to a lot of other societal problems, so it is very difficult to say, "If I do A and B, then racism will disappear."

Americans like short-term, quick, linear solutions to issues like diversity or racism, which are long-term, complex issues that don't necessarily have solutions. Every wicked problem is unique. The lessons learned dealing with a wicked problem at one institution are not necessarily ones that can be easily transferred to others. What's more, wicked problems are often solved as well as they can be through group efforts. So you must constantly ask yourselves when you are in a strategic-planning process, for example, who else should be at this table? Are all the people in the room thinking just like me? Do we need different voices?              

The easy way of trying to tame a wicked problem is to simply construct a definition of the problem that obscures its wicked nature and then apply linear methods to solve it. For example, a human-resources person called me to say, "We had some white employees put nooses on black employees' lockers. Could you come help us with this issue? We are wondering if you could conduct a two-hour workshop."

But such tame solutions, when they are imposed on wicked problems, exacerbate the situation by hiding the fact that it was wicked to begin with. If you have an issue on your campus and do a two-hour workshop on it, you might keep the trustees happy but actually make the situation worse.              

Instead, we should make ourselves step back from our innate impulse to tidiness and ask, "Have I engaged fully in what the problem is? Do I understand the complexity of it?" And, like a Rubik's Cube, "if I change one thing or solve one part of it, will the other parts change?"

Hebel: How can colleges effectively set benchmarks and move forward in a concrete way?             

Trombley: When we went through our strategic-planning process, we talked about what we wanted to see happen at the institution in five years and the areas where we had the greatest concern. Because Pitzer is a small college, we were able to come together and have an enormous amount of discussion — among large and small groups, in residence halls and elsewhere — and come up with common goals that we adopted as part of a strategic plan. I cannot overemphasize the importance of having a dialogue on a continuing basis; it cannot occur only during times of crisis. A lot of the best work happens when you are building relationships and channels of communication so that, if an issue does arise, you can work through it constructively.

Hebel: How do you foster discussions when people hold different views about diversifying the top ranks of the institution?              

Burnim: It is not hard to engage in a discussion on campuses. We are intellectual communities, so whether it is a forum, a convocation at the beginning of an academic term, or commencement, I take the opportunity to teach a lesson or raise a question or issue. That continuing dialogue can take place throughout the campus and the academic year.

Trombley: I do not wait for students to come to me or for faculty members to drop by. I'm always walking around and talking with students and professors. And I tell students about how I had never even seen a woman president or taken a course from a female full professor when I was their age. The only woman I ever met in a leadership position was my mother, who was an elementary-school principal. I talk about how that is now simply part of their experience and how extraordinary it is that we can have such a conversation in my lifetime.             

Hebel: If you are trying to diversify the top ranks, what are some specific ways that you can help build a pipeline of potential candidates and ultimately get a qualified pool of diverse applicants to chose from?

Burnim: It isn't enough for us as presidents to advertise for openings, to try to make sure that we have a diverse pool, and then to choose an appropriate person from that pool. We do not have a lot of people of color, for example, who are coming through the pipeline so they will be in positions to join the faculty and then move through the administrative ranks and ultimately become presidents. So in addition to trying to run open searches and creating a culture that fosters and encourages diversity, we have some obligations to help increase the supply of people who are in position to fill the top spots.              

What can I do as a president to make sure that there are people who are in place to fill those roles? I can encourage people to position themselves for leadership. I can say: "I recognize some qualities in you that I think would make you a great dean or vice president down the road. Have you thought about attending leadership-development programs like the American Council on Education Fellows Program or the Millennium Leadership Initiative of the American Association of State Colleges and Universities?"

Also, when I hire people, I say: "Look, I'm hiring you because you have outstanding credentials and the appropriate experience to perform this job, but I'm interested in your personal development as well. What do you want to do five years or 10 years down the road? I will work with you to see that you have the experiences and the development that will position you to do that." I figure that the person is going to serve my institution most effectively if he or she feels that they are doing something that will benefit themselves as well as me and the institution.              

Hebel: What are some best practices and strategies to diversify the top ranks?

Digh: A friend always says that people do diversity work because of pain, vision, or a combination of the two. The demographics of the country have changed, and if you and your institution are not in pain right now, you will be. You must ask yourself, "What action must I take to make this institution inclusive?"     

For example, I could buy one of many types of running shoes since they are all about the same price and quality, but I buy a certain brand because I know the company's CEO has a foundation that supports abused women. I would venture to say that most students who are now coming to your campuses are also making purchasing decisions based on, "What does this institution stand for?"

If I were a college president today, I would step back and ask: "What is the story that my institution is telling right now about diversity? When you look at my board, is it a white, male-dominated group?" Because that is the story that you are telling and what people are hearing. Change does not happen until an organization and its leader change their story.              

One way to get at that is to teach people how to have a dialogue. We don't know how to do that in this country; we scream at each other a lot but do not necessarily know how to deal with conflict. How do you begin to bring people up in the ranks of your institution who have the skill to hold opposing points of views at the same time — to recognize that any diversity conversation is not an either-or, but a both-and conversation?

Also American institutions are largely built around culturally white traditions, and we need to prepare minority candidates to come into what are largely white, male-dominated organizations. We must say to our trustees, "You know, part of the process of diversity work is for you to acknowledge that there are different ways of doing this job." But often, we just graft people from minority backgrounds onto the institution, and then they fail in some significant way because we do not value their cultural norms in terms of how they operate. And then the board says, "I told you it just does not work." But the real problem is that we haven't provided the kind of support that people need.              

Hebel: Let's take some questions.

Question: I just spent the last year coordinating a successful presidential search that resulted in our first black president in 60 years. What do you do with folks who have never had to work for a black president? What might we do to make sure that we have the kind of welcoming, nurturing environment for a minority CEO that will help him and the institution to succeed?             

Burnim: As part of the transition, you might hire a consultant and ask that question: How can we best prepare the institution for this new leader? That would be beneficial because, no matter what the characteristics of the new leader coming in, a new president represents change for the institution, and that always requires some adjustment.

Trombley: I would suggest taking the administrative cabinet and the president on a retreat, perhaps with a consultant, where people spend the night off the campus so they do not have to try and juggle two or three things at the same time. I would also try to make it a safe space where people can ask honest questions. And at the conclusion of the retreat, I would try to come up with some common goals that unite everyone.              

Digh: An acknowledgment that, "Yes, a black president is coming into our institution" is important. We dance around these issues. We bring in people from a wide diversity of backgrounds, but then we say, "We are not going to notice the fact that they actually are different from us." We need to have a conversation about why we so often mistakenly equate simply acknowledging difference with making a value judgment about a person — that they are better or worse than we are.

Question: I have studied the pipeline on the national level using data from the American Council on Education and found that different minority groups appear at different stages of the pipeline. For example, there may be people at the level of department chairman who are of Chinese and Indian descent, but how many chief executives are of Chinese and Indian descent? I am the chairman of the Asian-American committee at the American Association of State Colleges and Universities. The number of public-university presidents from China, India — indeed all of Asia — could sit comfortably in a very small room. How do we look at different groups, whether it is women or different ethnic minorities, that may appear at different levels of the pipeline?              

Trombley: If you look at the pipeline, the typical path to the presidency is to become a department chair and then to become a dean and then move to the provost's office, and so on. But if you look at the percentage of deans who are people of color or women, then you see some startlingly small numbers.

What needs to happen at the departmental level is for administrations to actively promote people or think of alternate ways in which people can reach the presidency. I was never a department chair. My first administrative position was as an affirmative-action officer, and I had people across the college warning me not do it because they thought it would end my career. But I ignored them and went ahead and became an assistant provost and then went on to become dean of the faculty at a different institution.              

But you have to be mindful of the pipeline. You need to determine how to exist within the system, and if it does not look as though that advancement is possible, then you should figure out alternatives.

Digh: Also, there is a difference between first-order and second-order change. First-order change is what I hear in most conferences and most conversations about diversity on campuses. We will just tweak things, make some adjustments. With first-order change, the system itself remains unchanged. Over time, it will self-correct and go back to where it was before.              

Second-order change transforms the system. So if you are a college leader looking at diversity at your institution, you should ask yourself, "Is this a first-order change that I'm putting into place, or is it something that is going to go deeper?"

For example, Dean Ornish, author and founder of the Preventive Medicine Research Institute, does a lot of work with heart patients and how they change their lives to become healthier. We all think that change has to happen incrementally: "I could lose 20 pounds, if I just drink one more glass of water per day." But Ornish says that huge, massive change is the way to do it, because if you just start eating better in small incremental ways, you are not going to get the immediate health benefits that will keep you on the right path. So, whether as human beings or as institutions, we should make sweeping changes. We should make them big and systemic.              

Burnim: Systems do need big change, but personal action is also required. Presidents individually should do a lot of self-assessment and ask themselves: "Am I doing what I can do to make a difference? Yes, faculty members, department chairs, and deans who are from China or India work at my institution. But have I encouraged them and offered to provide for their development and support?" That kind of introspection is something that we should not overlook.

http://chronicle.com/weekly/v54/i05/05b04801.htm
Section: Diversity in Academe
Volume 54, Issue 5, Page B48

Circle Project to be featured at Applied Improv Network

We are thrilled to be featured at the upcoming Applied Improv Network conference in Banff, Canada, from November 10-13, 2007.

A unique and innovative group will gather for workshops and open space dialogue--and we're pleased to be a part of it, offering our afternoon workshop on Culture, Conflict and Creativity using experiential, interactive learning techniques. Come, join us!

Feedback from our clients...

We are always thrilled to hear how The Circle Project is received--here are a few recent notes we've gotten from clients and participants:

Patti and David were able to take us to a level of insight beyond anything I could have imagined... and do this over and over again. In retrospect, I can see that they accomplished this through a combination of ingenious facilitation and workshop design, but at the time it felt more like a magic - a sleight of hand.  We would begin by playing what seemed a simple game...and then, after laughing and enjoying gradual variations in the activity, we would suddenly find ourselves where we least expected to be: immersed in the deep end of human relationships, seeing ourselves and each other in new ways. Our group walked in as acquaintances and emerged feeling close, bonded by the experience and with a whole new language for relating to each other. It is absolutely the most engaging and enlightening workshop I have ever taken. I can't recommend it highly enough for teams with communications or cultural issues...or who just want to learn to work more effectively together. -Cate Goethals, Professor, University of Washington

We began diversity work in our organization several years ago, but through Patti and David's work with us, we have been better able to identify where our opportunities lie, where to focus our energy, and how our Diversity Council can be effective in a changing organizational climate. Patti and David partnered with us to conduct employee focus groups which helped uncover roadblocks that we may be putting in our own way, both as an organization and as a council in moving our diversity efforts forward. I believe the teaching methods that Patti and David have used with our employees have been instrumental in breaking down barriers, and have helped us to begin to understand what it means to truly build an inclusive culture. -Julie Blaikie, Assistant Vice President Human Resources, Equity Residential

Patti and David are a dynamite team with so much wisdom and power between them. Their training is like taking a personal and collective journey into a place where innate knowledge is illuminated into new ways of seeing ourselves and others. The Circle Project is both a robust and compassionate experience led by two very agile and authentic trainers. -Teresa Ferrer, Oregon Education Association, Portland, Oregon

Patti and David’s sensitivity to the needs of their clients is exceptional and beautiful to watch. It is dazzling to observe how quickly and creatively the two of them create new content and forms of coaching and training through use of anything available from participants and others as well as their own knowledge. It is not just creativity. All of their creative actions are taken from the perspective of the client. Patti and David almost never look for their own satisfaction of sharing their own ideas and knowledge even though they know a lot. Yes, they are amazing. -Kichiro Hayashi, Ph.D., Professor Emeritus, Aoyama Gakuin University, Tokyo

It's rare to have the safety and encouragement to explore your edges, question your assumptions, change your perspective, and have a lot of fun doing it. Patti and David's facilitation style is fluid, smart, creative, balanced, and aware. They expertly extracted the wisdom in the group and guided us through a playful, and sometimes uncomfortable, journey of discovery. None of us will ever forget it. -Marlo Goldstein, Adelante Services, Portland, Oregon

My experience with The Circle Project's writing retreat was absolutely magical!  Patti Digh's wry humor, intelligence and expertise, combined with David Robinson's brilliant ability to facilitate learning through stories and theatrical games, created an environment in which I felt completely at ease.  I was inspired and motivated to explore deeply within my own heart and mind.  Patti and David's techniques are designed to gently break down barriers between participants and allow us to experience our human commonalities and connection.  I was amazed and touched by the insights we were able to share with each other.  I definitely came away from the workshop changed in a very positive way and have continued to benefit from the insights I gained.  I recommend The Circle Project to anyone who wants to experience more joy, satisfaction and positive growth in their lives and within their organizations. -Janna Zonder, Writer, Musician, Actor, Asheville, NC

Lasting learning is co-created; in each case, we learn so much from our participants, too. If you'd like information on having us present to your group, drop us a line.

The Two-Rule Syndrome

The dialogue goes something like this…

The Director of HR: “We don’t give “outstanding” on performance reviews.”

The Manager: “But it’s on the scale. It’s a five point scale, the top is outstanding.”

The Director of HR: “Yes, but as a rule, we don’t give them out.”

The Manager: “But this employee’s work is outstanding. She deserves to be acknowledged for her superior efforts.”

The Director of HR: “I understand. But we just don’t give outstanding. It’s a policy. Unwritten policy but it is understood. A rule is a rule.”

The Manager: “Then why is it a part of the scale? If it is impossible for me to officially tell my people they are doing outstanding work when they are doing outstanding work, why not remove it from the scale?”

And so it goes.

The Manager wonders, “Is this a game? Is there some deep, hidden ideal in play that I’m not privy to? And, if so, why not? I manage a large staff and carefully monitor their performance! I’m not arbitrary in my reviews.”

The Manager spent hours carefully considering the performance of her employee in writing this performance review. She knows that some managers have been in the business long enough not to care which box is checked on their review; they’ll get significant salary rewards that reflect their value, regardless. Not so with the younger staff positions. Excellent work is rarely rewarded financially. It is imperative that her employee knows her value and be rewarded for her work. Why the blanket moratorium?

This Manager has run head-on into the first rule of a two-rule syndrome: a contagious debilitating condition found in many organizations. It is known as the two-rule syndrome because diagnosis is only possible through the examination of two seemingly disconnected rules that serve a common purpose: silencing authentic conversation.

At this same company, the President and CEO has made it clear that he will only allow positive comments; he doesn’t like to hear the negative stuff. So, consequently, none of the real issues reach his ear (until they become crises). The kingdom looks pretty good from his vantage point. And, that’s the point of the rules.

If you stop and do a simple accounting, 1) we don’t talk about the negative stuff, and 2) as a rule, outstanding achievement is not possible and if it happens it won’t be acknowledged. These two rules guarantee a culture of appearances. They are a recipe for superficial counterfeit conversations. It’s a policy.

The CEO is under the illusion that he is setting the bar high by outlawing an outstanding performance review. In addition, he wants people who come to him prepared with solutions, not complaints. These are positive intentions but the means to the end are misguided.

From the vantage of the senior management, they will always have to edit the real stuff to provide a better, prettier picture for the CEO. No messiness is allowed. This is lovingly known as the illusion collusion. This team will inevitably break down. They will bristle when consultants come in to help them be more effective because the two-rules require them to negate their truth. They are dishonest collaborators. Their work is impeded as a rule.

The impact on collaboration, creativity and innovation

Teamwork, collaboration, and particularly creativity and innovation are results of fire. The forge has to become hot for new shapes to emerge. Collaboration does not mean playing nice-nice with everyone having equal voice. Collaboration is a multi-talented group of people dedicated to a common goal that has been articulated by a leader. Collaboration is controlled creative tension vaulting a team into a new and previously unimaginable solution. Collaboration rarely knows full agreement but always recognizes superior solutions.

At the center of collaboration is a deep abiding respect for your team’s ideas, whether you agree with them or not – and whether they are positive or negative. In collaboration, respect creates safety and a willingness to share, make bold offers, do battle to attain a greater vision. Mutual respect allows for constructive heat. In the two-rule syndrome there is no heat allowed. What’s not being said becomes like cold steel: hard, non-compliant. Impediments, contradictions, honesty, personality conflicts go underground. When the two-rule syndrome is in play, “outstanding” actually becomes an impossibility.

The cure for the two-rule syndrome is simple to state, yet counterintuitive in a litigating two-rule culture: reinforce intrinsic responsibility.

Empowered people moving toward a common goal will achieve unimaginable results. Create a safe “play pen,” a working environment with clear boundaries, and innovation and hot conversations can occur. Let the manager reward her employees as she deems appropriate. Foster full-body conversations. Get out of the way.

-David Robinson, The Circle Project (www.thecircleproject.com)