The Language of Power
It doesn't happen often, but a cricketer can be sent off the field of play. In soccer (or football) there is a yellow card (warning) and red card (send off) system. Rugby and many other sports have such systems, but cricket is a non-contact sport and there is not much need for such things. Yet, I was almost sent off a few times in my cricketing career in the UK.
As a teenager and young adult I was a hot head - super aggressive, high intensity, quite vocal and I didn't hold much respect for my opponent or their health. I am not proud of it but there you have it. In the 1990's Steve Waugh's Australian cricket team were one of the most dominant teams to ever play the game and their culture of mental disintegration (mentally demoralise your opponent in any way you can) and sledging (trash talking your opponent to put them off) was in vogue at the time. As I moved up the ranks into district cricket from the country leagues I grew up in I realised there was more respect paid to opponents. Those choosing to sledge had better be able to 'back it up' with their performance or risk looking like a right-old-goose. It was at this point I first learnt about humility and the value of keeping quiet, keeping my head down and focused on my own performance rather than trying to bully or distract opponents. It was during this transition I coincidently transformed into a better cricketer I ever thought possible (there might be something in that...)
But when I went to the UK as a contracted player I felt a little pressure as the designated Overseas Professional and I may have bought into being the stereotypical ultra-competitive rugged Aussie. Some old habits crept in on occasion. On one particular day an opposition opening batter hit my bowling around the park quite successfully and he was certainly basking in it (he was sledging me). I didn't appreciate this and took the bait. My anger rose and I vocally retaliated. Then, the umpire made a poor decision against me and my side. I'll never have video evidence (and us bowlers have a reputation for having a skewed and biased version of events), but the umpire failed to give the batter out when I knew I had got him out (LBW for cricket fans out there).
In this scenario a player is within their rights to ask the umpire 'why and how was it not out'. But at this moment my tone of voice and body language was intimidatory. Without raising my voice or using abusive language I delivered my question with menace, intensity, and accusation. The umpire was not receptive to this and warned me to get back to my mark and keep bowling 'or else'. The feeling of injustice rushed through every fibre in my body and only served to fire me up even more. I continued bowling and eventually got the batter out, but after a good deal of damage had been done on the scoreboard.
Soon after I was fielding near the boundary when the very same batter walked around to the boundary area where I was fielding with his mate and started up his sledging again. It was all too natural to fire back and give them a bit of lip with plenty of interest. Before I knew it the whole game had been stopped and my captain and a few team mates were holding me back. In a flash I found the umpire in my face threatening to send me off the field of play. I felt like the victim but it seemed I was being treated as the perpetrator.
It was unpleasant. And, on reflection I don't like that guy I was in that moment. A distinct visual I have in my mind is of the fear in the eyes of the umpire as if he was in physical danger when he threatened to send me off the park. Still to this day the sense of injustice and being victimised by the opposition's unsporting conduct and of incompetent officiating has not left me. On one hand I was dealt with a unfairly while simultaneously being out-of-line and being a poor communicator.
Why did the scenario blow up on that sunny Cambridge day in the early 2000's? The catalyst was my language. A subtle change in how I asked my question to the umpire about his decision would have set the whole afternoon on a different trajectory. I am sure of it. If I had created a more respectful dialogue and spoke the umpire's language I would have received more empathy and understanding throughout the afternoon. I may have felt less aggrieved and less agitated and more able to deal with my talented and irritating opponent.
I have found that when speaking to people in power we can increase our influence and outcomes significantly with a small and important tweak in our communication. The boss, the board, or a key client account; it is important to speak in their language. And, what language do they generally speak in? I have learnt there are two distinct pillars as a starting point: Risk and Cost.
Risk: What bad stuff could happen if we do this? What bad stuff could happen if we don't do this? How severe and how likely are the risks?
When CEO's look at Return on Investment of any activity or decision they are thinking about these questions (and many more) to assess what could go wrong and to calculate the percentages in a world where there are no sure things. Safety, People, Reputational, Financial, Legal, and Environmental Risks are only a few of the types of risks senior leadership are managing in their day-to-day. Speaking to this in your presentation and pitches gives them the insights they need to understand your perspective and is helpful to drive a conversation towards agreements.
Cost: How much is this going to cost? What types of costs will this inflict? How does it fit into the context of our budgets? How will this create opportunities in our budgets (now and in the future)? What is the opportunity cost? What are the costs of not taking action?
The last one is a great way to frame any initiative you are pitching. Overall, guarding against unnecessary costs and reducing them is at the forefront of any senior leader's mind. Talking in the language of cost hits the pain point 'between the eyes' and leaves no confusion or ambiguity around fallouts and implications of a proposed action or circumstance. Famously, Howard Schultz spoke about the costs as a central element of his pitches for ethical initiatives as the founder of Starbucks. He highlighted the cost of not buying ethically sourced coffee beans, of not providing health benefits to staff, and not setting up the Starbucks College Achievement Plan along his tenure as CEO. His board and investors were nervous about all of these steps, and at times demanded these initiatives not go ahead. But his long termism and positioning of the costs associated with not investing in these actions led to agreements and fantastic successes under his reign (Business Movers, Wondery).
A slight tweak in our approach and communication when speaking to people in positions of power can create a significant difference in trajectory. As a chess player manages centre-control or a soccer team manages space on a field, it is down to senior leadership to manage risk and cost (and everything associated with them). When we understand this and are able to report on the risks we are seeing or feel they need to know about there is a good chance to construct positive dialogue. When we can illustrate the costs of doing/not doing an activity we cut out a lot of anxiety and investigation our audience has to wade through. Like with an on field umpire, if we can talk in their language we may gain more respect and give ourselves the best opportunity of create more wins than red cards.
My latest publication is about to hit, and as a thank you for following my work all Boot Roomers will get first access to it. Watch this space for release dates and events coming up.
