When did you last say “No” or “I’m not accepting that” at work?

Sound familiar?

What have you been called (directly or behind your back)?

To try and add levity to risk (and/or compliance) sessions I ran across Asia, I’d often start the session by asking a question I now regret.

“What do you really think of risk/compliance?”

I’d use an anonymous survey tool, so people could say what they felt. In person, typically, people moderate their behaviour a little. Remotely? You’d get some frustrated, impersonal, but vaguely creative ones, like:

🔪 Bore patrol

🔪 Fun police

🔪 Department of “no.”

But sometimes there’d be other comments…

Please treat our staff with respect.

Last week, as I waited in an NHS clinic, I read all the signs and posters. The “No Excuse For Abuse” sign 👆 stood out. I’d seen many variants – in shops, cafes, on trains, at airports – and briefly considered that it’s sad we need them. In the subsequent days, a few things happened that prompted this newsletter.

1. My daughter performed a duet at a concert. She missed a line. Beyond a brief pause, no one seemed to notice. Afterwards, I walked an unusually quiet Aly to the car, and as it was pretty late, I was focused on getting home. I heard sniffles as we rounded the first corner. We pulled over and had a chat. Someone she was/is very close to had said something pretty mean about her performance. Everyone else has been supportive and full of praise. But the comment cut for a budding young performer (who’d been practising for hours every night for weeks).
2. I spoke to a client who also seemed uncharacteristically flat the following day. A senior colleague had been moaning and ranting about their required input into a project (risk assessment). So far, so depressingly typical. But it was done in such a manner as to undermine my client (relatively new to their role), questioning both her personality and competence with her manager. We talked, and she said something I hear most weeks, paraphrasing: “I don’t want to be doing this much longer; trying to help them to do the right things is crushing, sapping, and pointless.”
3. That evening, I got the feedback scores for the two sessions I’d run at the ACFE Global Conference last month. This was my 10th ACFE speaking event, so I knew the drill. Usually, one person really doesn’t like me or what I say. As I read the comments, one person (in each session) took exception and got a bit vicious.

Only human

My daughter is the most resilient person I know. She constantly puts herself out there, and I observe in awe. She’ll have a crack at any artistic performance, sporting event, national science competition, anything. But like many misdiagnosed extroverts, she’s a courageous introvert with a very very very small circle of people she trusts. Those people behind the armour can sometimes hurt you badly.

My client has a rich life outside of work that nourishes the soul. Ideally, work would be impactful and rewarding. But we all know that’s not a constant – it’s like happiness; it comes in waves, if at all. I sensed this was more of a straw that badly strained the back, compounded by a spineless boss. The realisation? Life is short; we should not have to spend some of our best years dealing with petulant and regressive arseholes.

These days, I use emotions ranging from disdain to enmity as fuel; haters gonna hate. But last week was an unforgiving one. As I read the feedback, my wife (bless her) was fuming, blood boiling. My initial reaction was very male: “You wouldn’t say that to my face, would you?” Later came, “Why did I bother?” (the effort required for a session like that, done as a volunteer, is considerable). Now it’s some of the fuel/inspiration for this article.

Grandma’s advice

My lovely Grandma taught me much; bless her. She’d been a nurse during the Blitz and frequently endured that while not knowing if her great love (my Grandpa) was alive. These experiences forged incredible compassion but also ruthless steel. With an accent vaguely redolent of Mrs Doubtfire, I still hear these gems when I think of her:

1. As someone took offence to a TV show, she piped up, “You’ve got the control in your hand.”
2. When she busted my brother and my longstanding shortbread larceny racket, “I see you. I know what you’re doing. Don’t ever think I don’t.” Strangely chastening and terrifying when said deadpan, looking you straight in the eyes.
3. “[Name] is not a nice person.” This became comedic family lore – the sweeping judgment delivered with absolute confidence and usually followed by an incongruous signal that we’re done talking about that person, like, “Now pass me the peas, dear”.

These three get at the nub of the problems. No. 1 is what I’d say to someone who doesn’t like my sessions, articles, or posts – leave, unsubscribe, move on. No. 2 is what I wish my client had been able to say to the stroppy senior leader who thinks risk doesn’t apply to him. No. 3 is the conclusion Aly reached – that person isn’t whom they purported to be.

Feedback, yes; abuse, no

Constructive criticism and feedback are necessary. Ideally, it comes from a position of technical or moral authority (alas, not always). But being abusive is not tolerable.

Does any of this resonate? How do you deal with it? If you need a chat (or are facing this sort of undermining and unpleasant abuse), get in touch (message me here or, if outside of my network, here).