

Real workplace situations that show what happens when people leadership works well, and what happens when it doesn’t. Through the PRISM Lens, we look at the conversations, assumptions and decisions that shape how people experience work.
The stories are drawn from real working life, including legal and professional workplaces. Names and identifying details have been changed.
The Price of Letting Rasheed Go
Nobody in the firm would have said they were treating Rasheed unfairly. In fact, if you'd asked them, they'd have said the opposite. He was well-liked and respected. A capable solicitor with a sharp legal mind and a growing client rapport. But his caseload over twelve months tells a depressing pattern. Routine conveyancing and straightforward wills. These cases, while necessary, offered him little opportunity to develop, or to build the kind of client relationships that lead to progression. His colleague, John, who had qualified the same year, was handling the complex commercial disputes. These were high-value clients, and the type of cases that get talked about in partner meetings. It wasn't as if the supervising partner had sat down and made a decision to hold Rasheed back. There was no agenda, and no conversation that anyone could point to as the moment it went wrong. It was the supervising partner who had simply made an assumption he had not examined: "assumed the clients would feel more comfortable with someone who looked like them. I never said that out loud. I'm not sure I even said it to myself. But looking back, that's what I was doing." That's what the supervising partner told me - not immediately, but after some reflection. It took a conversation and the right questions to get there. The supervisor wasn't a malicious person. He was an experienced, well-intentioned leader who had made a series of small decisions over time, each of which felt entirely reasonable in the moment, that had accumulated into something that was neither reasonable nor fair. Rasheed, had started to notice. he was being sidelined. He had begun to gradually withdraw. This played out in him being less energetic in meetings, offered fewer ideas. He had a growing sense of not quite belonging in a place he had worked hard to be part of. The enthusiasm he had arrived with slowly slipped away. After two years he left, and with him client relationships he had quietly been building. What was really happening The supervising partner was viewing the situation through his own prism. His assumptions about what clients wanted and who would make the right impression felt like professional judgement. That is precisely why these decisions can be difficult to spot. We all interpret situations through our own experience. The PRISM Lens helps leaders pause long enough to question that interpretation before it becomes a decision affecting somebody else's opportunity, development or progression. What better leadership would have looked like A better decision would have started with a brief pause before allocating the case: Am I making this decision based on what Rasheed can do, or on what I assume the client will think? If Rasheed could handle the case well, what was actually stopping him? The assumption about the client belonged to the supervising partner, not the client. And over time, decisions like this were affecting far more than Rasheed's caseload. They were affecting his development, his visibility within the firm and ultimately whether he wanted to stay. That small pause is where better people leadership begins. Moving from assumption to a more considered decision about the person actually in front of you. Managing people who are different to you is a skill. Like any skill, it can be learned. If Rasheed's story made you think about how decisions are being made in your firm, let's talk. If you recognised something in Rasheed's story - whether as a leader reflecting on your own decisions, or as someone who has been on the receiving end of them - I'd like to talk.
The Manager With Good Intentions
The manager at the centre of this story was experienced, well intentioned and proud of his team. But nobody had ever helped him think about how his own assumptions might affect the way he managed different people. I was asked to work with the organisation after a senior leader noticed growing tension within the team. What I found was not one dramatic incident. It was a series of small management decisions that, taken together, were affecting trust, fairness and whether people wanted to stay. Incident one: the discipline that wasn't applied equally Abdul had been with the organisation for six years and was managing a small team. He was diligent, well-regarded, and had never had a formal complaint raised against him. When a process error occurred in his department - the kind that happens in busy teams - he was called into a meeting within the week. A formal written record was made of his error. Similarly, a month later, another error had occurred followed by a second written record and meeting. But three months earlier, a white colleague in an equivalent role had made a similar error. There was a conversation. No written record. When I raised this with the line manager, his response was immediate. "Abdul's team is higher profile. The stakes are different." When I asked him to explain what made the stakes different, he couldn't. The work was comparable. The error was comparable, but the response was not. He genuinely believed his own explanation. That is how an unexamined prism works - it doesn't feel like bias. It feels like judgement. Incident two: the Friday phones Every Friday, the team finished at 5pm. Most people headed to the pub but Abdul stayed until 6pm to answer the phones. Nobody had asked him directly. It had simply become assumed that, because he wasn’t drinking, he could stay on. When I asked the manager who had decided Abdul would cover the phones, he looked genuinely puzzled. "He's always just done it. He doesn't seem to mind." He had never asked Abdul whether he minded. Abdul minded a great deal. But he hadn't said so, because he didn't feel he could and didn’t want to cause trouble and have people annoyed with him. Meanwhile, the in-crowd left for the pub at five. And the social connections, the informal conversations, the relationships that lead to opportunity - all of that was happening in a room Abdul was never in. The real cost The organisation had invested in recruiting Abdul. But it had placed him with a manager who had never been given the tools to lead effectively across differences. Small assumptions accumulate. And what accumulates eventually costs. Abdul was disengaged. The cost of replacing him would have comfortably funded the kind of leadership development that might have prevented the situation in the first place. The problem was not bad intention. It was a series of everyday management decisions that had never been examined. This is the gap I work in. Helping leaders notice those moments earlier, question their assumptions and respond differently. Because recruiting good people is only the beginning. Keeping them, developing them and getting the best from them requires good people leadership. If you recognised something in this story, I’d like to talk. Take our free quiz, Discover Your Leadership Blind Spots, and find out where your own prism might be shaping decisions you haven't examined yet. Discover Your Leadership Blind Spots
The High Performer Nobody Was Developing
I know Hasan. And when he told me what had happened at his place of work, I wasn't surprised. I had heard versions of this story before. Hasan had been with the firm for six years. His work was excellent and partners requested him by name on complex assignments. His client feedback was strong. And yet, when he looked around at the people being put forward for the senior accountant review, being mentored, being sponsored, having doors opened for them - he wasn't among them. Nobody had said anything. It had simply happened that way. When he first joined the firm, he would join colleagues for soft drinks at the pub and the Friday lunches. He laughed at the same things his colleagues laughed at. Nobody thought of him as particularly different - he was just Hasan, good at his job, easy to be around. Over time, Hasan's faith became a more visible part of his working life. He grew a beard, prayed during the day, stopped drinking alcohol and observed Ramadan. Nothing about the quality of his work changed. But some of the relationships around him did. There were awkward comments and jokes, and gradually Hasan became less involved in the informal life of the firm. None of these moments seemed significant on their own. But together they changed how included Hasan felt, and nobody in leadership appeared to notice. The client dinner he stopped attending In his first two years, Hasan had attended every client dinner, every team celebration, every informal gathering after a long week. After his faith became more visible, the invitations became less frequent. Eventually, they became rare. Nobody had deliberately excluded Hasan. The partners thought they were being considerate. Hasan thought he was no longer wanted. One conversation could have corrected both assumptions. This is the PRISM Lens in action - or rather, the absence of it. A conscious leader gives it thought before making assumptions on someone else's behalf. They consider what the situation looks like from the other person's reality, not just their own. "I would have gone," Hasan told me. "I liked being part of things. I just stopped being asked." Many of the relationships that matter in professional services are built outside formal meetings, at dinners, social events and the informal moments where people get to know one another. Gradually, Hasan had found himself outside many of those informal spaces, even though nobody had consciously decided to exclude him. What the firm lost Hasan eventually accepted an offer from another firm. A partner there had taken the time to ask about his ambitions, what he wanted from his career and what support he needed. His existing partners were surprised. Hasan had continued delivering good work, rarely complained and had never formally said he was unhappy. But that was part of the problem. Nobody had asked. Over time, small assumptions about what Hasan wanted, where he fitted and which opportunities would interest him had changed his experience of the firm. The firm did not lose Hasan because of one dramatic incident. It lost him through a series of small decisions and missed conversations. Better people leadership means noticing those moments before a good person decides to go. If Hasan's story makes you wonder who might be becoming less visible in your firm, let's talk.
Longer reads on the everyday challenges of leading people, from difficult conversations and management behaviour to creating workplaces where different people can work well together.
Five Tips to Support People in Hostile Times
A few weeks ago, I walked through Glasgow city centre after meeting a friend after work. It is a route I have walked countless times. What I didn't know was that earlier that evening there had been disorder and racist violence in the city centre. Two police officers and three members of the public were injured.
When I found out later, I realised that, as a person of Asian heritage, I belonged to one of the groups that hostility was directed towards. I was grateful to have narrowly avoided getting caught up in the violence.
Hostility towards people perceived to belong to particular groups has become increasingly visible. We see it in public rhetoric, political debate, protests, social media and everyday conversations. People have become more emboldened to say things openly.
Sometimes it goes further. It questions whether particular people belong here, whether they deserve the same rights as everyone else or, in the most extreme cases, challenges their very existence.
Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey, released this summer, has brought Homer's ancient story back into popular conversation. One of the questions within The Odyssey is how we treat the stranger, the outsider, the person who arrives among us and is perceived as different. The ancient Greek idea of xenia placed obligations on both host and guest and made the treatment of strangers a measure of how we behave towards one another.
Thousands of years later, we are still asking versions of that question.
But perhaps we should also ask who gets to be called the stranger in the first place?
We often hear that people who come to Britain should integrate, adapt to our culture and learn the language. Yet many British-born people live overseas. They too move for work, opportunity, family and a different life. They rent and buy homes, build communities and don't necessarily adopt the culture around them.
Why are they not judged in the same way?
This is the kind of question I used to explore with students when I taught social justice in professional roles. Sometimes changing the group in a scenario exposes assumptions and biases we hadn't noticed before.
And this isn't only about immigration. We can ask the same kinds of questions at work.
Whose behaviour do we excuse? Whose do we scrutinise? Whose voice do we trust? Who gets described as confident and who gets described as difficult?
But it isn't only about who is treated as the outsider. It is also about whose humanity, voice and place are given equal value.
Do you belong here?
Does your voice carry equal weight? Are you believed? Who gets to speak with authority?
Are your life, abilities and contribution valued in the same way as everyone else's?
While leaders in law firms and other professional service businesses cannot control what happens outside their workplaces, they have considerable influence over what happens inside them.
For smaller firms and SMEs, that influence can be particularly significant. One person's behaviour can affect a substantial proportion of the team, and the relationship an employee has with their manager can make an enormous difference.
So what can we actually do:
One - Don't allow prejudice to become normal When hostility towards particular groups becomes louder in wider society, people may feel more comfortable expressing those attitudes at work too.
Sometimes it is disguised as a joke.
Or, "I'm not prejudiced, but..."
It may be a sweeping statement about immigrants, Muslims, women, gay people, trans people, disabled people or another group, while someone belonging to that group is sitting a few feet away.
Others may disagree but say nothing. Some may quietly agree.
But to the person on the receiving end, everyone's silence can seem like support for the sweeping statement.
They may start wondering who agrees, who doesn't and who has actually got their back.
This is where leadership becomes visible.
You don't have to humiliate the person who made the comment. But you do need to respond.
You might say:
"I'm not comfortable with us talking about a whole group of people like that."
Or ask:
"What makes you say that?"
Or challenge the assumption:
"I don't think that's a fair assumption to make about a whole group of people."
If someone in your team has already been subjected to prejudice, checking whether they're OK is important.
But empathy isn't enough if the behaviour causing the problem continues. Supporting the person affected is one half of leadership. Addressing the behaviour or environment causing the problem is the other.
There is also a legal dimension. Acas says employers have the main responsibility for discrimination at work and must take steps to prevent it and do all they reasonably can to protect people from discrimination by others.
Where appropriate, specific training can also help people recognise their biases, challenge their assumptions and understand the impact their behaviour has on other people's wellbeing.
Two - Acknowledge what is happening around people Silence can unintentionally give prejudice an audience.
Silence may feel neutral when you're the person staying silent. But it can feel very different when you're the person wondering why nobody has said anything.
If something significant has happened and you think someone in your team may be affected, acknowledge it.
You could simply say:
"I've seen what's happening and I'm conscious that some of this may feel very personal. I just wanted to check how you're doing."
Then listen.
Don't tell them what you think or turn their experience into a debate. And don't assume that because somebody belongs to a particular group, they must feel a particular way.
Give them the choice to talk.
Three - Don't wait for someone to ask for support We often assume that if someone needs something, they'll tell us.
I'm not convinced that's true.
I know there have been times when something has affected me and I've simply carried on. Sometimes I didn't know how to raise it. Sometimes I wondered whether I would be seen as making too much of it.
Your employees may be feeling similarly.
Someone worried about travelling into work after a racist incident may say nothing. A Muslim employee hearing increasingly hostile comments about Muslims may say nothing. A gay or trans employee repeatedly hearing their lives discussed as a political problem may say nothing. A disabled employee hearing assumptions about what disabled people can contribute may say nothing. A woman hearing misogynistic comments, or repeatedly finding that her contribution carries less weight than a man's, may say nothing.
And hostility doesn't have to be directed at someone personally to affect them.
Repeatedly hearing people like you described as a problem, a threat, a burden or as people who don't belong can take its toll. The effects of unfair treatment can range from exclusion and being ignored to harassment and intimidation. CIPD guidance points to the damaging effects this can have on people's health and wellbeing, morale and organisational performance.
What happens around people affects them, even when it isn't happening directly to them.
So ask:
"Is there anything you need from me at the moment?"
They may say no. Respect that.
The purpose isn't to make someone disclose how they feel. It is to make sure they know they are supported and that, if they require support, asking for it is safe.
Four - Ask what would actually help Support doesn't always mean having a deep conversation. Sometimes it is very practical.
Someone may want to work from home because there is a protest near their usual route. Someone may want to change the location of a client meeting. Someone who has experienced abuse travelling to work may simply need twenty minutes, a cup of tea and a bit of space before dealing with customers or colleagues.
Don't decide what somebody needs.
Ask them:
"What would be helpful for you?"
There is an important emotional intelligence skill here.
Empathy isn't deciding how another person must be feeling. It is being curious enough to find out.
Sometimes the answer will be: "I'm fine. I don't need anything."
That's okay too.
The employee retains control over what they tell you and what support they accept.
Five - Make belonging something people experience Belonging isn't something employees read on your website. It's something they experience through hundreds of ordinary interactions.
Who gets listened to?
Who says something in a meeting that is overlooked, only for the same idea to be taken seriously when somebody else repeats it?
Whose name does nobody bother learning to pronounce?
Who gets invited for coffee?
Whose religious commitments are treated as inconvenient?
Who feels comfortable mentioning their partner?
And who feels they have to change part of themselves to fit the culture?
In an interview with Helen Pamely, solicitor Jasmine Chaudry described declining a work boat party because it took place during Ramadan. She was called into a meeting and told that declining was "not a good look".
Later in the interview, Jasmine talks about being advised to "play the game". Her response was that attending during Ramadan went against who she was. She chose to go home and break her fast with her family instead.
That raises a question I think every leader should consider:
What does belonging mean if belonging requires someone to become less of themselves?
For women, there can be another version of the same question. Jasmine also describes being asked at a law firm interview whether she planned to have children.
Whose career potential are we assessing, and whose personal life are we assessing alongside it?
Whose voice carries authority? Who has to prove themselves again? Who gets described as confident, and who gets described as difficult?
Those everyday moments tell people far more about an organisation than a statement about its values.
And, crucially, what happens when somebody crosses the line?
There is a business case too The CIPD's Good Work Index found a strong association between positive line management behaviours and employees reporting that they achieve their work objectives.
For example, 91% of employees who agreed that their manager supported them when they had a problem reported achieving their objectives, compared with 73% of those who disagreed.
For a smaller law firm or professional service business, the consequences are easy to understand.
If you employ 20 people and one experienced employee leaves, you've potentially lost 5% of your workforce. You may also have lost knowledge, client relationships, experience and capacity.
But I think there is an even simpler business case.
People do better work when they aren't using part of their energy working out whether it is safe to be themselves around the people they work with.
If you're the person experiencing hostility As a person of Asian heritage and as a woman, I have had to remind myself of this too: someone else's prejudice is not a measure of my worth. It tells us something about the prejudice.
Jennie Berry, who runs Wheelie Good Life, has described some of the abuse directed at her online as a wheelchair user. She points out that before becoming disabled, nobody questioned whether her life was worth living.
She is still the same person.
What has changed is how some other people perceive her value.
The responsibility for prejudice belongs with the person expressing it.
And when it happens at work, responsibility for dealing with it also sits with the organisation.
A final thought I have spent much of my professional life researching and teaching about equality and how people work well across differences. Much of my work now is about helping people widen their perspective.
But professional knowledge doesn't make me immune from what is happening around me.
I am also walking through Glasgow as a person of Asian heritage and as a woman.
Someone else is a Muslim man catching the train home.
Someone else is a woman whose contribution in a meeting is repeatedly overlooked.
Someone else is a gay employee listening to a colleague make a joke.
Someone else has a disability and finds that people suddenly make different assumptions about their value and what they can contribute.
Someone else came to Britain years ago, built a life here, works, pays their bills and raises their family here, yet hears people talking as though they are the problem.
These aren't abstract "groups".
They are people we work beside, manage, employ, procure from, supply to and live alongside.
And sometimes 'they' are us.
We cannot control everything happening outside our workplaces.
But as leaders, we have considerable influence over what happens inside them.
What have you seen a good manager or colleague do that made someone feel heard, valued or that they belonged?
Managing Work Is One Thing. Leading People Is Another
In recent years, there has been growing recognition that managing work and leading people are not the same thing. For those of us running Small & Medium Sized Enterprises (SMEs), whether as business owners, directors, partners or managers, that distinction matters.
Most of us weren't taught how to lead people. We became good at our profession, built successful businesses or developed technical expertise, then found ourselves responsible for employees, associates, volunteers or collaborative partners. Yet leading people requires a different set of skills.
The consequences are significant. Poor people leadership can damage confidence, increase stress, drive talented people away and affect business performance. Replacing experienced people is costly. Building teams that feel trusted, motivated and committed is far more valuable.
One of my earliest lessons in leadership came from helping to transform a struggling family business into a successful one. When we took it over, sales were low, but many of the ideas and initiatives we introduced helped turn the business around. I enjoyed looking ahead, trying new ideas and introducing new product lines. At the same time, I also experienced a management style that relied heavily on control and close supervision. When new ideas succeeded, the business benefited. When they didn't, criticism followed rather than discussion. Eventually, I decided to leave the business. Looking back, I realise how quickly creativity can disappear when people don't feel trusted to think, experiment and occasionally get things wrong.
Years later, when I heard Simon Sinek explain the transition from manager to leader, it resonated with my own experience. He argues that when we're promoted, our role fundamentally changes. We are no longer responsible simply for doing the work. We're responsible for the people who do the work.
That distinction applies equally to business owners, directors, partners and managers. At some point, success is no longer measured solely by our own expertise. It's measured by how well we help others succeed. That's a transition many organisations underestimate.
I've seen this difference play out repeatedly throughout my career. Sometimes in organisations that get it right, and sometimes in those that don't.
I regularly see Lyn at business networking events. She speaks passionately about the digital and document management services her company provides. Listening to her, you'd be forgiven for thinking it was her family business. Such is the passion and pride she has for the organisation. She doesn't own the business; she's the Marketing Manager. Her enthusiasm tells me something about the autonomy and confidence she's been given. When people feel valued and trusted, they often become an organisation's strongest advocates. Listening to Lyn always reminds me that when people feel trusted and valued, they often give far more than any job description requires.
Leadership isn't only about the people who report to us. For many of us running SMEs, it's also about how we influence associates, suppliers, collaborative partners, volunteers and even clients towards a shared goal. Whether people are employed by us or simply choose to work with us, the principles of good leadership remain the same.
Management, of course, is essential. Businesses need managers who organise work, plan resources, allocate responsibilities, monitor quality and ensure deadlines are met. Leadership adds something else.
It creates direction, develops people, encourages initiative and builds confidence. Rather than asking, "How do I get this task completed?", leaders also ask, "How do I help this person succeed?"
The distinction became clear again through a friend of mine, Susan.
After many successful years working in procurement, Susan took time out to complete an MBA before joining a new organisation. Her manager asked to be copied into every email she sent. Initially, I thought that seemed entirely reasonable. Many new employees benefit from additional support while settling into a role.
The problem was that it didn't stop. Nearly a year later, she was still copying her manager into every email. Decisions were regularly questioned or overturned within email chains. What began as support had gradually become micromanagement.
I watched Susan become increasingly reluctant to make decisions independently. Having her decisions repeatedly questioned or overturned gradually eroded her confidence. It reinforced something I'd experienced years earlier: effective leadership builds confidence and independence. Micromanagement does the opposite. The irony was that someone recruited for her experience gradually became afraid to rely on it.
One of the greatest challenges of leadership is remembering that no single approach works for everyone. Every person brings different experiences, expectations and ways of working, and good leaders recognise when they need to adapt their approach.
One team leader I worked with had built a successful IT career overseas before moving to Scotland. Although technically excellent, he rarely contributed in meetings or challenged ideas. It would have been easy to assume he lacked confidence. Instead, I recognised that workplace expectations differed significantly from those he had previously experienced. In his previous organisation, questioning senior colleagues was uncommon and listening was seen as a sign of respect. After a few weeks of coaching, and a better understanding of workplace expectations in Scotland, he became much more confident in sharing ideas and leading discussions. His ability hadn't changed, his leadership skills had changed.
Whether someone is neurodivergent, communicating in a second language, managing the menopause, living with a disability, or simply has different life experiences, people don't all respond to the same leadership style. Leading people isn't about treating everyone identically. It's about treating people fairly by recognising different strengths, experiences and support needs.
That's where inclusive leadership begins. It isn't about lowering standards. It's about creating the conditions that allow different people to perform at their best.
So what does this look like in everyday practice? Here are some of the difference

Of course, these aren't rigid categories.
The best managers do many of these leadership behaviours already.
Likewise, great leaders understand that good management remains essential.
For SMEs, this distinction is especially important.
Whether we're business owners, directors, partners or managers, many of us are still delivering client work while also leading people. Some of us have employees. Others work with associates, freelancers, volunteers or strategic partners. Whatever the structure, our success depends on bringing out the best in the people around us.
In smaller organisations, every relationship matters. Every contribution has a visible impact on customer experience, reputation and business success.
For leaders, developing these skills isn't an optional extra. It means:
In my experience, people rarely leave organisations simply because of the work itself. More often, they leave because of how they're managed.
Technical expertise may help us build a successful career or business, but people leadership earns trust, commitment and people's best efforts.
Managing work keeps a business running. Leading people helps it grow. The business that will succeed in the years ahead won't simply produce excellent managers. They'll develop managers who know how to bring out the very best in people.
I'd love to hear your thoughts. What qualities have made the biggest difference in the best manager or leader you've worked with?
How to Handle Difficult Conversation
I'd like to start with a story from my own career.
Many years ago, I was part of a three-person research team. My remit sounded straightforward enough: 'Write the section on obstacles to women's careers.'
The problem was that the brief was far too broad. 'Obstacles' could cover workplace culture, discriminatory practices, caring responsibilities, organisational policies or wider political and social barriers. I needed to know where the boundaries were and how much depth was expected.
I asked for clarification a couple of times.
Although nobody said it directly, their tone and responses left me feeling that, as a researcher on the team, I should already know what was expected. I didn't, and that uncertainty made me increasingly anxious.
Eventually, and thankfully, I stopped and asked myself a simple question.
What exactly is making me anxious?
It was the uncertainty, and I felt my professional expertise was somehow being questioned.
Once I'd recognised what was driving my emotions, I arranged a conversation.
I explained that, before I could produce what they wanted, I needed us to agree the scope of the section. Not everyone welcomed the discussion, but by then I'd realised their reaction wasn't mine to manage. We clarified the scope and I left knowing exactly what was expected.
That experience taught me that difficult conversations don't begin with managing someone else.
They begin with managing ourselves.
Why do we avoid difficult conversations?
Whether we're supervisors, office managers or business owners, we've probably all delayed a difficult conversation at some point.
We tell ourselves we'll wait until things calm down.
Maybe next week.
Maybe after the project finishes.
Maybe they'll sort themselves out.
Sometimes they do.
Usually they don't.
The employee who's regularly late continues to arrive late.
The colleague who dominates meetings keeps interrupting others.
The tension between two team members quietly grows until the whole team feels it.
Most of us don't avoid these conversations simply because they're uncomfortable. We worry about upsetting someone. We worry they'll become defensive, angry or emotional, or that we'll make things worse.
These thoughts are perfectly normal.
The important thing is recognising those thoughts rather than allowing them to take over. Here are a few steps to control the conversation:
Step 1. Prepare yourself before you prepare your words
Before thinking about what we're going to say, it's worth spending a few moments checking in with ourselves.
Ask yourself:
Our emotions influence the conversation before we've even started, speaking. Before we begin the conversation:
Take five or six slow breaths.
Drop your shoulders.
Clear your thinking.
Those thirty seconds will make the difference between reacting emotionally and responding professionally.
Emotional intelligence starts with self awareness.
Step 2. Start with curiosity, not criticism
Let's take Zara.
Over the last few weeks she's been arriving late several times each week. Other members of the team have started noticing and are beginning to ask questions.
Some managers begin with criticism or sarcasm
'Late again?'
A better approach is curiosity.
'I've noticed you've been arriving later than usual recently. Is everything okay?'
This approach addresses the issue while creating space to understand it first.
Perhaps she's struggling with child or parental care.
There may be another explanation.
Curiosity is about gathering the information you need before deciding what action is appropriate.
Step 3. Address the behaviour, not the person
Here's one of the conversations managers dread, undoubtedly brought on with the recent hot weather in central Scotland.
A member of the team has noticeable body odour.
Staff have noticed, but nobody wants to mention it.
Handled insensitively, this conversation could cause real embarrassment.
Handled respectfully, it protects the dignity of the individual while addressing the problem.
As with every difficult conversation, let's first check in with ourselves. Deep breaths. Relax your shoulders.
Speak privately.
Be kind.
Be direct.
You might say:
'I hope you don't mind me mentioning something that's a little awkward. I've noticed there's occasionally a body odour, and I wanted to make you aware of it privately.'
Then listen. There may be reasons you don't know about, such as a medical condition, medication or personal circumstances.
Your role isn't to judge, but to deal with the issue respectfully.
The same principle applies to every difficult conversation.
Challenge the behaviour. Never the person.
Step 4. Listen more than you speak
Many leaders think difficult conversations are about giving feedback.
I think they're about understanding.
Ask open questions.
Listen carefully. Be comfortable with silence.
Sometimes people just need moments to gather their thoughts.
The information they share may completely change your understanding of the situation.
Listening and acknowledging someone's perspective doesn't mean agreeing with it. It means making the effort to understand another person's perspective before deciding what happens next.
Remember too that we all communicate in different ways. Our culture, personality, life experiences and neurodiversity will all influence how we interpret and respond to conversations. Avoid making assumptions about someone's intentions or communication style, and adapt your approach to the individual wherever possible.
People are far more likely to accept your feedback when they've genuinely felt heard.
It's equally important to remember that intent and impact aren't always the same. We may intend to be clear and supportive, but our words may be interpreted differently.
Even with the best preparation, we won't always get it right. We may choose the wrong words, make an assumption or unintentionally cause offence. Don't let the fear of getting it wrong stop you from having the conversation in the first place.
If you realise your words, tone or delivery have caused unnecessary distress, don't ignore it or become defensive. Acknowledge it straight away. A sincere apology, followed by a calm clarification of what you meant, can quickly get the conversation back on track.
You might simply say:
‘I'm sorry, that didn't come across as I intended.’
‘I'm sorry if that sounded insensitive. Let me explain what I meant.’
A genuine apology isn't a sign of weak leadership. It's a sign of self-awareness and emotional intelligence. We're not apologising for raising an important issue. We're apologising because our communication has had an unintended impact.
Once we've acknowledged it, we can slow the conversation down, clarify what we meant and continue respectfully.
Step 5. Agree what happens next
Don't finish the conversation with,
Let's see how things go.
That's unlikely to help either of you.
Instead, agree what a good solution looks like.
What needs to change?
What support is available?
When will you review progress?
What will happen if things don't improve?
Clarity reduces uncertainty.
It also demonstrates fairness, as everyone knows what's expected.
A final thought
One of the biggest lessons I've learnt is that difficult conversations are rarely about finding the perfect words.
They're about preparation.
They're about managing our own emotions before trying to influence someone else's.
They're about staying curious rather than being judgemental.
They're about treating people with dignity while still holding them accountable.
The conversation I had all those years ago about the research project wasn't really about the report.
It was about having the confidence to ask for clarity, and being firm enough to get it.
Since then, I've learnt that most difficult conversations become much easier once we're clear about three things:
If the answer to that last question is 'humiliated' or 'defeated', think again.
If it's 'clear', 'supported' and 'respected', you're much more likely to have the conversation well.
Whether you're leading a team or working alongside colleagues, difficult conversations are a life skill, not just a leadership skill. So don't avoid them. Prepare for them.
Over to you now
What's the most valuable lesson you've learnt from having a difficult conversation at work?
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People Leadership in Practice