The best staff meeting I ever attended was the one where the 7 of us decided to ask to be laid off. It was a sterling example of collaboration and authenticity. We were trying to figure out how to re-invigorate ourselves after our boss’s 100-person department had been re-orged out from under her. We were the remnant without clients, without a budget and without hope.

We’d soldiered on for the last several months, but we were shouting into to a void: no matter how many big binders full of impressive plans and analyses we’d produced, we got no response from prospective clients. We were talking about our lack of success and what else to try, when Rich said: “I’m going to ask to be laid off.”

We all went silent - so silent, you could hear cells dividing.

Rich explains his thinking
Finally someone sputtered: “L-l-l-laid off?” Not the most elegant paraphrase, but it got the job done.

“Yes. Think about it: there’s an excellent severance package right now. We have no budget and can’t get anyone to fund us. We’re going to get laid off, it’s just a matter of when; I’d prefer to be laid off under this package, not the downgraded one that’s sure to follow.”

Several more cells divided as we stared at Rich.

Someone said: “Rich, that’s brilliant.”

And, one by one, the rats began to jump off the sinking ship. It was the most spontaneous, open and personal conversation I’d experienced in a meeting. We talked about what we’d each do when laid off. Rich wanted to go back to school, 2 of us had always wanted to start our own businesses, the other 3 wanted to apply for a different job within the organization, something being laid off would give them time to do.

We all turned to our boss, who hadn’t said a word. She said: “I want to be laid off too - it’s clear to me that this job, and this department are going nowhere. I’ll go talk to my boss after this meeting.” By the end of the day, we had each chosen a lay-off date and signed the necessary papers.

I’ve never forgetten the way our energy built as we told each other more and more of our own truths, brainstorming about possible futures. I’ve experienced that kind of excitement and the thrill of co-creation many times since then, and I do all I can to facilitate it in the teams I work with. That staff meeting is where it all began for me, my first experience of what was possible with a group willing to be both honest and collaborative.

In fact, that’s the only staff meeting I remember in 15 years of attending them.

I bet you’ve got stories too. Tell me - what’s your favorite staff meeting story?

I’m taking up the challenge from Etienne over at The Happy Employee. What are the five things I’d tell the managers I work with if I were about to die?

1. Get more sleep. You’ve read the studies. You’ve seen the effects in others. Get more rest. We will love you for it.

2. Get more help, especially when you’re overwhelmed. Sure it may not be done just the way you’d do it, but it will be done. (This is advice I should take myself. And I will, as soon as I get up from my nap.)

3. Have more fun. That’s where all the innovation is hiding - in workgroups where they are having fun. Also, it’s very difficult to be anxious when you’re laughing.

4. Make appreciation a habit. Ask each person on your staff to coffee or lunch and get them to tell you the story of how they accomplished something they are proud of.

5. Leave room for other’s to add their thoughts. Do some things at the 80% level so others feel comfortable joining in.

“We make all our decisions by consensus.” “We’re a consensus-based organization.” I must hear this from a client a week. When I ask about how consensus is reached, I hear some version of: “We give each idea that’s presented and discussed a thumbs-up, thumbs-down or a thumbs-sideways.” A what? ” A thumbs-sideways - it means ‘maybe.’ Then we count the thumbs. Whichever idea has the most thumbs-up wins. The people who didn’t give that idea a thumbs-up agree to live with the decision.”

Sounds like voting to me. Same process, same outcome: An idea is presented, there is discussion, the majority “wins,” and there is a disaffected minority who agrees to “live with” the decision - until the next chance they get to change it. Which means you’ll get to make this decision again…and again…and again. And that’s pretty much the opposite of a decision made by consensus.

So, if voting isn’t consensus, what is? I think of consensus as a series of small agreements that build to a solid decision. Consensus is bounded by realistic parameters which is what gives it its creative spark. It’s not an open discussion; rather it relies on structure for its tremendous freedom and power. Learning and listening is built into each step. Contention is too. By this I do not mean encounter group-style confessional displays, open weeping or chair-throwing. I mean being willing to be influenced by another’s point of view. I mean speaking honestly and openly and knowing the pleasure of having your point of view heard, understood and responded to. The response may be “yes,” ” I see it diferently,” or “oh yeah, and what about…” When flawlessly executed, consensus trumps group dynamics: it’s more compelling than rank, than being detached, winning or staying a victim. It’s tremendously energizing and the decisions do not have to be made again. Over time, the groups that learn this process become increasingly deft in their decision-making and follow-through.

I think this is the chief difference between consensus and voting. In consensus, there is resolution. The decision sticks because the process is transparently fair and inclusive of all points of view. Because of their constructive contention, the group coheres without slipping into groupthink. Their decision is effectively bulletproofed. Enacting that kind of decision is easy. Commitment from the organization comes more easily too.

It’s easy to see why organizations want to lay claim to consensus: Who wouldn’t want that level of cohesion and commitment?

Still, not every decision merits the time, attention and thoroughness of consensus. Some decisions are best made by voting, disaffected minority and all. Many decisions are better made by a leader who has been informed by her group’s input or feedback. Knowing which approach best suits your situation is the art of decision-making. And accurately labeling your current process - painful though that may be - is a good place to start.

I say it a lot: the difference between what you know and what you do is practice. Many of my clients know what I know about effective meetings, what it takes to collaborate, and how they should behave. But, we all fall a bit short when it comes to the doing. Changing what you do involves practicing new skills and behaviors. Knowing what to do isn’t enough. Wanting to do it enough to practice and learn and be horrible at first - that’s a start. Then, you’ve got to know what to practice.

A friend sent me her latest video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EV7KXGZdTog (my apologies for the title!) of her work with the ancient South Indian practice called konnakol. I know a little about konnakol, and could demonstrate a very simplified version of it, but I couldn’t possibly do what Lori does in this video…yet. It would take hours and hours of practice, as in the old joke: A tourist in New York city asks a local: How do you get to Carnegie Hall ? The local answers: Practice. Because I’m a musician, I know just what to practice. But, I don’t want to learn konnakol at this level. I’d rather enjoy Lori’s performances. What I want to learn at this level is collaboration. Which got me to thinking: what skills would I need to practice to get to Carnegie Hall as a performer of collaboration? Listening, for sure. Being willing to join someone else - being influenceable as well as influential. Shifting my point of view without losing myself are the few that come to mind. I wonder what others think about this.

I can see us all at Collaboration Camp, off in the woods practicing the skills we need for our performance - like musicians running through scales and drills, practicing with a partner to find the gold disguised as hostility, hearing all that’s meant as well as what’s missing. We could be a virtual collaboration army - or an actual one.

Spotting the moments for collaboration, then showing up for them. That’s it. How do I do it? How do you do it? And, how can we do it more often. How do we not get fooled by certain aspects of the situation - you’re an exec, I’m not, you’re homeless, I’m not, you’re shouting and angry, I’m not, you’re checked out, I’m not.

I’m going to a collaboration get-together on Friday, May 11. Me and 5 other esteemed colleagues, talking about where we are and what we might do together. These things can go either way - dropping down into wonderful connections that last a lifetime, or just another coulda, shoulda, woulda. The difference? A choice between anxiety leading to defendedness or vulnerablilty leading to trust and connection. I came out swinging and invited us all to bring something - object, childhood picture, poem, quote - that will do some of the revealing for us. I don’t want to be vulnerable - ever.  But I do want connection and trust.  Figured this was the only way to make sure I showed up.

Am looking for new office space and hearing many lies. I have to assume this is way real estate works. You know, “cozy” means cramped, “contractor’s dream” means owner’s nightmare,  and “$1.50/sq. foot” means “unless we think we can get more, in which case the price goes up steeply and arbitrarily.” If they worked on their timing and delivery, they could be headlining in Vegas. Certainly I laugh - what else can you do? And,  as a commercial renter, you don’t have the rights residential renters do.  So, it’s all about what you can negotiate, which requires a trip to the collaboration zone. Wish me luck.

There are a couple of my collaboration stories-in-progress. I’ll report back as they develop, or fail to. I want to learn from…everything. That means your stories too. How about it?

I love that it’s not subject to control by anyone.  That, even though someone, somewhere decided to market the idea of teams, making what comes naturally subject to expert-itis and high consulting fees, not to mention the feeling that you need help - our help, my help - to do this, despite all that, the Collaboration Zone exists and waits for whoever wants to enter it.  I like it that the best collaboration comes out of what’s most authentic to those doing the collaborating.  I love that exact paradox:  That true collaboration is possible only when we are most authentically ourselves.   I have no idea what people mean when they say “There is no ‘I’ in team.”  There is a ‘me.’

The collaboration zone is a little wild - untameable.  It’s like playing music with other really good players.  Will you be good enough to fit in?  Will you clench and not be able to find the groove?  Or will it feel like diving into the pool does - the way the water reaches up to catch you, holds you up, makes swimming possible?  I like working right there - right at the nexus of anxiety and desire.  I like that there is no rule book, only guidelines and that things only go as well as the least present person in the room - unless there are enough of us to raise that person up and carry them along.  Best of all, I like it when a group of people who start out not listening, not really linked to each other, a little nervous or bored, click.  They talk faster, and listen harder and are moved by positions other than their own.  There is this magical moment when they become a single organism, moving together, contending, arguing, convincing, stopping to consider.  The air is brighter,  everyone looks happier and there is energy buzzing in the room.

I want everyone to know how to get themselves there, and to help a group get there.