CHAPTER 5 Nurture Safety and Trust

The next day Dave once again joined Beattie in the kitchen for an early morning cup of coffee.

“This is becoming a habit,” he said with a chuckle.

Beattie looked up and smiled. "How’s Dee?”

“Still sleeping.” Something that flickered across Beattie’s face suggested there might be more behind the question. "Why?”

“Oh, nothing. I was so thrilled to feel the sun on my shoulders and my toes in the sand I was wondering if I’d overdone it with her yesterday.”

Dave smiled. "I’m sure she’ll recover.”

“So what’ve you got on today, Dave?”

He looked at her blankly.

“At work?” she added with a smile, clarifying her British phrasing.

“Oh! I have a meeting first thing with Jim.”

“Aha—perhaps I could quickly give you the second aspect of the Heart domain of collaboration.”

“Second aspect—okay.”

“Let me start by asking you: What do you think is the biggest barrier to people wanting to share their perspective?”

Dave thought for a while. "It could be lots of things, I guess. I think most people are a little afraid to stick their necks out, to be honest.”

Beattie nodded. "You’re right. People need to feel safe to be who they are—to speak up when they have an idea, or to speak out when they feel something isn’t right. They also need to trust that they won’t be punished if something goes wrong.”

Dave thought about how a more trusting environment might have allowed for more participation and even changed the financial outcome of the Primo project.

Beattie continued. "Fear is a big inhibitor. Besides keeping people from speaking up, it also stops them from experimenting with an idea—and that’s exactly what you need for innovation. We have a major job on our hands reprogramming people about this, because our educational systems have drummed it into us to always conform and never risk failure. This has built up an incredible collective memory, so we instinctively don’t want to be different, make a mistake, or, worst of all, be singled out for blame.”

“Hang on.” Dave went to his briefcase and pulled out his notepad. He turned to a clean page and wrote Create a safe and trusting environment.

Beattie continued. "Nurturing an atmosphere of safety and trust allows people to act without fear of failure or retribution. In this environment, silos are minimized because trust becomes the bottom line. And at the risk of repeating myself, I would emphasize that it all begins with you.”

As Dave listened to Beattie, even though he knew he was part of the problem, he hoped the phrase "Collaboration begins with you” also applied to Jim. A chill ran across Dave’s shoulders as he remembered Jim’s words: I need to do some thinking, too. He dreaded this morning’s meeting. Here I am, fifty years old, he thought, and I actually have to summon the courage to talk to my boss. I’ve known him for years, but I’m worried if I tell him something he doesn’t want to hear, it might get me fired.

“Any questions?” Beattie asked. "You look concerned.”

Dave got up from the table and refilled his coffee. "I was just thinking that nurturing a safe and trusting environment seems like a daunting task—and it doesn’t seem to be one of my boss’s strength areas.”

“Think of it this way,” suggested Beattie. "This could be an area where Jim could use your help. Establishing and nurturing safety and trust was one of the hardest aspects of our culture to change. It takes time. You have to approach it from both an organizational and an individual point of view, where it starts at the top and flows down to the leaders and then to the front line people. Convince Jim it’s well worth his time. He needs to know that when people feel trusted they believe that the performance of the organization isn’t just top management’s responsibility—it’s their responsibility, too.”

They both stood up. "Thanks for your help, Beattie. I’ll keep you posted.”

Shortly after arriving at work, Dave took a deep breath and knocked on Jim’s office door.

“Come on in,” Jim called. As Dave walked in, Jim looked up briefly and motioned in the direction of a chair.

“Good morning,” Dave said, doing his best to disguise his feelings of dread, even though he could hear Beattie’s mantra, "Collaboration begins with you,” ringing in his ears.

Jim flipped through the bound document in front of him and looked up at Dave with his eyebrows raised.

“Well, guess what?” he asked.

“What?”

“We won Primo II! Can you believe it? Despite the fact that Primo made absolutely no money for us, it seems the client was pleased with the end product.”

Dave felt pleased and distressed at the same time.

“We pulled it off,” Jim continued, "but we can’t let Primo II be a repeat of Primo.”

“I agree,” said Dave.

“So how’s that report on Primo coming along?”

“It’s only been two days,” said Dave. "I’m still gathering data.”

“Okay, but I’d like to read your findings before we get too far into Primo II. We should incorporate any insights we get from your report, if we have the time.”

“But if the past is any indication, we won’t have the time, because we won’t make the time,” said Dave. "We’re always moving forward at warp speed. We don’t allow ourselves a few weeks or even days to analyze our past mistakes and learn from them. We’re always chasing the next big contract, trying to learn and innovate at the same time, with everyone pulling in the direction of their own fiefdom.”

Jim frowned. "Dave, I know I told you in our last meeting that it was your job to fix these kinds of problems. But since then, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking—and looking in the mirror. Although you’re the lead on the Primo projects, improving the culture at Cobalt needs to start with me. At first I didn’t like you being a truth teller, but now I have to admit that’s what I need—maybe now more than ever before.”

“What do you mean?”

Jim’s voice softened. "This isn’t for general broadcasting, but I’ve had some developments in my personal life that have caused me to—shall we say—reevaluate both my general temperament and my leadership style. A while ago my wife essentially told me that either I get rid of the 'my way or the highway attitude,' as she put it, or she would file for divorce. We’ve been in counseling for the past few weeks, and I’m beginning to see how that lousy attitude permeates everything I do, both at home and at work. And your recent comments have reinforced that.”

“I think our wives went to the same school of truth telling. My wife told me just last night that I need to get my ego out of the way—to recognize my role in making things better, not spend all my time placing blame on others.”

“Sounds like we’re both in the middle of a personal learning process,” said Jim.

“You know, the truth can sometimes hurt, but I’m sure we’ll be better off if we take their advice,” said Dave.

Jim cleared his throat. "Getting back to the subject at hand—in your analysis of Primo so far, have you gained any insights that might help us going forward with Primo II?”

“Well, I have been getting some excellent leadership coaching,” Dave said.

“Who’s your coach?”

“Her name’s Beattie Anderson. She’s from the UK, where she just sold her company—with very successful results.”

“What kind of coaching is she giving you?” Jim asked.

“She’s teaching me about the importance of collaboration in an organizational environment,” said Dave, hopeful that Jim would be receptive.

“Okay, keep going,” said Jim.

“I’m learning that collaboration is an inside-out mindset. It starts in the Heart, which is about who you are as a collaborator; then moves to the Head, which is what you believe about collaboration; and then goes to the Hands, which represent what you do during collaboration.”

Jim gave Dave a skeptical look. "It sounds a little soft to me.”

“It may seem that way, but she credits it for turning her company around and helping them beat the competition. One of the first things she told me is that applying the model in real life takes practice and time.”

Jim sighed audibly. "Okay.”

“The first key aspect of a collaborative heart is to realize you need to listen to different points of view. If you always get input from the same people—the ones who think the way you do—your output will become stale. Diversity is the source of innovation. There’s an old saying that goes, 'If two people always agree, one of them is unnecessary.’”

Jim looked interested. "That’s very true. But being successful in business isn’t as easy as listening to opposing points of view. It takes guts and tenacity. Sometimes that requires making tough personnel decisions.”

Dave shifted uneasily in his chair. Tough personnel decisions. Jim didn’t seem to be very interested in creating a safe and trusting environment. Dave wondered, even with Jim’s new insights into the problems with his old style, if he might still be looking for a fall guy for Primo. Yet if that happened, it would only perpetuate the blame culture everyone complained about while denying its existence. How was he going to tell that to Jim?

“Something on your mind, Dave?”

“Yes—there’s a lot on my mind, actually,” Dave blurted, surprising himself. "My coach said the second key aspect of collaboration is to create an environment where people can feel trusted and safe—safe to speak their truth and even share about their mistakes, so that we all can learn from each other.”

Jim was silent for a moment.

“You know, that’s probably a good point,” said Jim. "Everybody really should be able to speak their minds without fear of punishment. If I penalize people for being truthful, they’ll learn to cover up their mistakes and things might get out of hand. And if I ignore my wife’s feedback, I might come home and find a moving van in front of my house.”

Dave gulped. "I’m not sure what to say to that.”

“It’s all right, I’ve been having trouble coming up with the right words myself lately,” said Jim. "At any rate, I want you to send me periodic drafts as you’re working on your report about Primo. I think I’d like to get the truth a little bit at a time.”

Dave took his cue and left. Closing the door, he silently congratulated himself for taking the first step toward creating a safe and trusting environment—and being a silo buster himself.

That afternoon Dave called his department heads and staff together to formally announce that Cobalt had secured the Primo II project. He also hoped, especially after the discussion with Jim, to begin the journey to collaboration—however bumpy the road might be.

Opening the door to the meeting room, Dave was hit with the din of two dozen people talking as they waited for the meeting to begin. The noise level gradually subsided as Dave made his way to the front of the room.

He greeted his audience with a smile. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman.”

A man in the front row turned around to catch the eyes of the audience. "And any others,” he quipped.

There were a few laughs and someone shouted out, "Speak for yourself, Wayne.”

Based on his experience working with Wayne Lundgren, Dave knew it was typical for him to be disruptive. He’d been in the research and development department for over fifteen years and was now the senior manager. His ability to develop big-dollar programs made people tolerant of his less-than-ideal behavior. Self-serving and egotistical, he liked his own way and always made sure he and his team came out on top. He certainly did not operate from a collaborative mindset.

Dave decided he would keep his focus on his audience and cleared his throat.

“This is going to be a quick meeting,” he began. "By now you may have heard through the Cobalt grapevine that we’ve won Primo II.”

Everyone cheered.

“But it was at a huge cost,” Dave continued. "We took a loss on Primo. I’m sure Jim—and our stockholders—aren’t going to stand for a repeat of that. I’ve been doing a post-project analysis and, after looking at the data, it’s clear we could have saved money by combining departmental efforts. In many ways we operated in self-serving silos—and that has to change for Primo II. Cobalt is our company. Whatever we do, we need to do it for the common good.” He looked directly at Wayne. "That means making a profit for the company as a whole, not just for our own departments.”

Wayne let out an audible yawn.

Dave focused again on the rest of the room. "We’re going to approach Primo II with a new strategy. Rather than working as independent entities—which costs us time and money—I want all departments represented in this room to start collaborating. In the next couple of weeks, you’re going to hear the word collaboration a lot. Here’s something that will help the idea start sinking in.”

He walked over to the flip chart at the front of the room and, with a dramatic flourish, tore off the cover sheet to reveal:

Dave said, "These are some of the phrases and concepts we’ll be learning and living as we work together to create a culture of collaboration at Cobalt. Today we’ll familiarize ourselves with the Heart domain. I’ll be rolling out the Head and Hands domains over the next several days. For now I want you to focus on the last point. We will begin holding periodic idea sessions this week where everyone will be encouraged to contribute suggestions and thoughts. I want you all to know you can feel safe to speak up at these sessions. We really want to hear from you.”

Some of the newer hires smiled and murmured quietly to each other.

Sarah spoke up. "I’m excited about this. I think creating a collaborative culture could be the beginning of a new era at Cobalt where everybody’s perspective is considered.”

“I agree with Sarah,” said Dave. "And for those of you who, like Sarah, technically aren’t leaders here at Cobalt—yet—I want you to start thinking of yourselves as important contributors. I’ll be talking more about that as we go along.”

By this time, Wayne had slumped in his chair, his head resting on his palm, the picture of boredom. Dave couldn’t go on ignoring this.

“Speaking of different perspectives—Wayne, do you have anything to share with the group?”

“Yes, I have a question.”

“Great! What’s your question?”

“How much longer is this meeting going to last?”

“Patience is a virtue, Wayne. The second point under the Heart domain is to create a safe and trusting environment. This is vital in order for collaboration to take place. We need great ideas—but until everyone feels safe speaking up, we won’t get those ideas.”

Brandon Savedra, a member of the production department, raised his hand.

“Brandon, go ahead,” said Dave.

“Sometimes I have an idea but I don’t want to bring it up because I think someone will disagree with it or say it’s bad. How can we feel safe to express our opinions and ideas if we know someone else—maybe a manager—might not like them?”

“Disagreement can actually be healthy as long as we’re dealing with conflicting ideas, not conflicting people. It’s okay to respectfully debate ideas, but it’s not okay for things to get personal. If conflict happens, as leader of the project I’ll take an active role in helping to reach a positive resolution.”

Dave saw heads nodding. "So when you’re in a group that’s sharing ideas, remember to listen with respect and suspend judgment. That’s the starting point for trust. We’ll have a policy that there’s no such thing as a bad idea. When people feel trusted, they’ll begin to understand they are contributors—and we’ll get great ideas and happy people. As we move forward with Primo II, let’s welcome our differences rather than shying away from them. Act with integrity and show you care about each other. Think of it this way: none of us is as smart as all of us.”

People started closing notebooks and getting ready to leave.

“Before the next meeting, I need each of you to email me with the resources you’ll need to deliver Primo II. I also want you to document the lessons you learned from Primo—both good and bad. The sooner the better on this. I’d like everyone’s initial thoughts by tomorrow morning. We’ll reconvene tomorrow afternoon to continue the launch.”

At six o’clock Dave wrapped things up at the office and made his way home to Dee and Beattie. Pulling up to the house, he saw a lone light shining in the living room window and immediately sensed something was wrong. When he walked through the front door, the house was quiet. He dropped his briefcase in his office and made his way to the living room, where Dee and Beattie were sitting together.

“Hi, girls—what’s going on?”

Dee gave her husband a tight smile. "Sit down, honey. I have something to tell you.”

His heart stopped and restarted in an instant. He took a sharp breath and felt his muscles tense. Beattie placed a steadying hand on Dee’s arm.

“I have to go the hospital next week for a surgical biopsy.”

“What?” said Dave, stunned.

“There’s a possibility—I might have breast cancer.” Dee’s eyes filled with tears.

After the word was spoken, a quiet sadness filled the room. Dave sank into the sofa next to his wife and held her in his arms as she wept. Beattie slipped out for a walk to gather her thoughts.