Sitcoms can drive me crazy sometimes. A lot of the humor is spawned by misunderstandings that could be cleared up with a simple question that no one seems to want to ask.
Life is sometimes like a sitcom...
The new floor supervisor was vacillating about whether or not to stay in his position or step back into the line. He had equivocated for months.
He was smart, capable, loyal, hard working. What he didn't like was conflict. He was the sensitive, thin skinned sort.
On a particularly bad day he decided he had had enough. I was coaching him at the time and we talked. I could tell he still wasn't sure that quitting the position was the way he wanted to go.
So I advised him to give it three months. Give the position a full chance and then decide. He did.
After the three months were up he came across another bad day. He spouted to the plant manager that it was days like these that made him want to get out.
So they talked.
The plant manager asked him if he was happy.
The supervisor demurred.
The plant manager pressed him. "You don't have to stay in any position you're not happy in," he told the supervisor.
"I know, but..." said the supervisor painfully.
Round and round they went for thirty minutes.
Finally, the supervisor relented and said he was not happy and wanted to step down.
The plant manager accepted his resignation.
Here's the thing:
When I discussed this conversation with the plant manager he said that it seemed to him that the supervisor did not want to disappoint him with truth. So the plant manager had to dig, dig, dig. He had to ask him questions from every which way to box him into honesty.
I had experienced this supervisor's propensity to not want to hurt people with his honest feelings, so I understood the plant manager's approach.
However, the conversation took a fascinating spin for me when I then talked to the supervisor.
The way he saw it, the plant manager's pressing was a suggestion to him that maybe he should be unhappy and he should quit. Almost that his questions were counsels that he should get out. Like that's what the plant manager wanted.
And I stood slack-jawed once again at the incredible fog communication can be.
Two people in the same conversation.The only two in the conversation. Both fully invested. Both fully participating. Both hearing every word spoken. Neither seeing the conversation completely for what it is so they end up perceiving it in two utterly different ways.
And it resulted in a supervisor quitting because he thought he was doing what the plant manager wanted.
Wow.
So, here's the quiz: How could the misunderstanding have been prevented? Think about it.
I would say this: If the supervisor wondered at all about the motives of the plant manager's questions, he simply needed to ask a question himself.
"Bob (named changed to protect the innocent), are you trying to tell me something? It sounds like you're wanting me to step down, is that the case?"
With the answer to that one question all misunderstandings would have vanished. It's amazing what a simple question can do to clear away the fog.
Sometimes life is a sitcom, just not nearly as funny.
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