An Explosive Situation

ate last year, 30 employees and managers of one agency gathered for a five-day planning session. A glance around the room at the beginning of the session revealed crossed arms, cynical smiles and eyes that rolled at the very mention of "teamwork." Incongruous bursts of anger bubbled up about insignificant items-the order of the eight priorities under discussion, the agenda-even when to break for lunch. People were either overreacting with attacks or underreacting with apathetic disdain.

They sat grouped in cliques. Invisible lines divided union from management and field from headquarters. Real progress on an action plan was impossible. And yet an open invitation to air grievances would have led to a tiresome replay of their particular version of "Spar Wars." This unproductive replay is one of the fundamental reasons telling the truth is not encouraged. Without a safe place that invites new voices and new outcomes, the risk of making things worse is too high. Dangerous truths require special handling.

For some people at the session, tensions had reached explosive levels-as shown by this drawing, done by a field office employee. Across the boundary between management and the field lies enough dynamite to blow up both sides. The fuse is lit, and the scissors that might cut the fuse and avoid disaster are laid on the side of management.

Another picture from the union side of this group was even more graphic. It portrayed the department as a boat with a hole in it, slowly filling up with water. A worker was bailing it out as fast as he could. To his right stood a manager, fly unzipped, um . . . well, filling the boat back up again.

Pictures on the management side were no more hopeful. One manager showed herself running in circles. Another depicted himself in a car driving around a target, linked to his destination by four streets, all marked "one-way" heading away from the desired goal.

A psychiatrist might diagnose this group with a bad case of "learned helplessness." A consultant might conclude the agency suffered from a culture of cynicism. But whatever the diagnosis, previously unspoken dangerous truths were sabotaging management's efforts to make progress. Continuing to pretend everything was just fine or that a new program of the month would solve everything was more dangerous than getting all sides together and letting them tell the truth as they saw it.

This group braved the risks and used their pictures to each tell their side of the story, in turn. It was tense-particularly when the guy who drew the boat picture stood up. But the relief of having spoken the unspeakable cleared the tension from the room.

Talking about things doesn't change the facts, but it can change perceptions. Contrary to what you might expect, sharing the gallery of disillusionment, frustration and blame described above ended up having a positive effect on all present.