5

What’s Fueling Your Conversations?

Tone and direction are simple cues that tell us what kind of conversation we are in. How we got into that kind of a conversation is a different story, yet it is an important one to understand if we want to make sure we have conversations that feel good (on balance) and that take us where we want to go. In chapter 3, we talked about tuning in to increase awareness of who’s driving our conversations. This makes it easier to be more intentional in our interactions. The Appreciative Inquiry principles, identified by David Cooperrider, provide an added set of guidelines. These principles form a foundation for understanding the dynamics at work in our conversations at a fundamental level. Regardless of the nature of our conversations, these principles govern their outcomes. Tuning in puts us in the driver’s seat, and the principles help us reach our destination.

During Alisha’s AI training, she was introduced to the five AI principles.¹ Upon understanding the principles, she realized how her conversations with staff about low patient satisfaction continued to reinforce the problem. That awareness changed everything for her. It was essential to her success in applying the two practices. As they did for Alisha, the principles will strengthen your capacity for engaging in conversations worth having.

The five AI principles are as follows:

The five AI principles are simple rules that govern our conversations.² Understanding how these principles work together helps us stay tuned in and makes us better drivers of productive and meaningful engagement. Here’s how:

When Alisha learned about these principles, she reflected back on her previous interactions with medical center staff. By focusing attention on what was going wrong (Poetic Principle), she ended up asking depreciative questions that fostered a negative dynamic. Tuning in, she realized she was below the line, driven by the belief that it was her responsibility to make sure quarterly reports improved, but she couldn’t do that because the staff were not doing their jobs. She was anticipating she might lose her job because the staff would continue to just make excuses instead of doing their jobs better (Anticipatory Principle). Since she was coming from below the line with depreciative comments and questions, the staff responded accordingly (Simultaneity Principle). It was a downward spiral following the principles to a tee.

She now understood that her critical questions flowed from her thoughts and feelings. Tuning in, she realized that her fear of failure made her look for someone to blame. Those conversations left everyone feeling bad. On top of that, the conversations weren’t producing the results she needed. Patient satisfaction and employee engagement kept slipping. Understanding the AI principles made it easier for her to tune in and get curious, challenging her thinking and how she was seeing things. This awareness gave her the power to choose a frame that made way for a more worthwhile conversation. Alisha’s entire approach shifted once she realized that the predictive nature of the principles would support success. She also more deeply understood the importance of tuning in to be aware of her frame of mind, assumptions, expectations, and degree of openness because all of these influenced her words. Those words were integral to both the context and the outcome of her conversations.

At her training, Alisha learned that the heart of AI consists of the cooperative search for the best in people, their organizations, and the world around them and that solving tough problems from that perspective results in creative solutions, which is life-giving for people.³ When she returned to work after the training, she thought carefully about her approach and her relationships with the people with whom she interacted. In this reflective mindset, she knew the staff cared about patients as much as she did. And, of course, they wanted the medical center to be a great place to work. She still had to talk with them about the poor quarterly reports for their unit. However, this time she intended to have a conversation that was productive as well as meaningful.

Following the Constructionist Principle and the Poetic Principle, Alisha framed her conversation by acknowledging and affirming the staff: “I know we are understaffed and that each of you is working extra hard to make sure patients are well cared for. I have no doubt you want your diligent work and care to be reflected in our reports as much as I do.” This created an appreciative context, influencing expectations (the Anticipatory Principle). Then, following the Positive Principle, she asked a generative question that stimulated a conversation worth having: “Let’s forget about the reports for a minute. Tell me, where do you feel you are excelling in each of these areas on your floor?”

At first, the staff seemed stunned at the turnabout in the tone and direction of Alisha’s question. They couldn’t believe that she was setting aside the reports. After a moment of awkward silence, though, the staff began sharing stories of patients who’d been fully satisfied, even to the point of sending thank-you notes and flowers to staff after they had left. Alisha asked them to be more specific about what was unique about those patients’ experiences. The ensuing conversation surfaced positive actions that could be replicated.

This reflected the Simultaneity Principle and the Positive Principle in action. Some staff had never even thought of a few of the ideas. Alisha felt delighted with the increased energy and enthusiasm the staff seemed to have for one another and the patients. It was a great conversation and the beginning of the turnaround in performance and ratings. This micro-moment created a macro-movement for positive change at the medical center.

The easiest way to move in a positive direction while uplifting and energizing people is to initiate conversations worth having. To do this, you need to understand and pay attention to what is fundamentally governing your interactions. The idea is to use the principles as a guide to create a context for the conversation that predicts a conversation worth having: what is your shared understanding, what are you anticipating, focusing on, looking to bring about? Let’s explore more deeply how the AI principles can help you create great conversations. Each of the stories we share starts with a core principle, yet all the principles are at work in every conversation. These principles invite us to learn how we can drive our conversations in a positive direction in all aspects of our lives. The first principle, the Constructionist Principle, is foundational to all the rest.

The Way We Know Is Fateful

At the end of the first month of school, Jamal’s favorite class was social studies, and his favorite teacher was Ms. Wittit. He had turned in every assignment, volunteered for extra credit, and even stayed after class to help tutor one of the other kids, who was struggling. He was thriving. While in the teacher’s lounge one day, Ms. Wittit shared how excited she was to have Jamal in her classroom and bragged about what a great student he was and how much he contributed to his classmates. Ms. Summers, who had Jamal in her English class, was dumb-founded. She wondered if there could be two Jamals in the seventh grade. She shrugged her shoulders and concluded that he must not like English.

Our beliefs and perceptions influence our conversations.

Others might come to the same conclusion, and they would be wrong. Jamal’s participation and performance stemmed from classroom interactions, not his subject preference. The frame or mindset the teachers held influenced their understanding of Jamal, what they believed would support his learning, and ultimately the way they engaged with him. Let’s take a look at the unexamined framing that these teachers brought to their classroom and the influence that framing had on Jamal.

Ms. Summers grew up in a strict household. Her mom was a nurse, and her dad was in the military. She was raised to believe that success came from disciplined action and attention to what was important. If you had a problem, you dealt with it promptly. Sometimes this meant asking for help, but doing it yourself showed character. Her mother was loving and nurturing. Her dad rarely praised her for good work because that was expected: you work hard, you do your duty, and maybe there is time for play. She believed she could best help students learn by ensuring that they stayed focused on the class material and did good work. This was her frame in working with all her students.

Ms. Wittit grew up in a very different kind of household. Her mother was a naturopathic physician, and her dad was a successful sculptor. Their home was full of laughter, encouragement, and creativity. She was raised to believe that when you were most engaged and passionate about something, you would be successful. If you had problems, you stepped back to see the bigger picture and sought other people’s perspectives and support. Her mom was loving and nurtured her strengths. Her dad inspired her to see the world through the eyes of an artist, always looking for possibilities and unique perspectives. Ms. Wittit believed she could best help students by encouraging their passion and engagement with the material and reinforcing their strengths. This was her frame in working with students.

Both teachers wanted the best for Jamal, yet their way of understanding his behavior, based on their personal frames, made a remarkable difference in how they interacted with him. In English class, Ms. Summers was trying to be helpful, though Jamal felt constantly criticized. When he tried to connect with others by making a joke, Ms. Summers admonished him immediately. He often gazed out the window to help him concentrate. Ms. Summers assumed that he was distracted, so she would stand between him and the window, hoping that would help him pay attention. Jamal’s assignments were erratic. When they were done poorly or off topic, she asked, in a critical tone, “Why did you turn in such poor work when you are clearly capable of better work?” Jamal would look at his feet and shrug his shoulders. He didn’t like English class much.

Ms. Wittit’s interactions with Jamal were remarkably different. She believed humor could help students learn, and she saw Jamal’s clowning around as a way for him to break tension, make a point, and connect with the other students. Left alone, he was careful to be appropriate and stop himself most of the time. If she needed to redirect, she was careful not to single him out or embarrass him. She noticed Jamal gazed out the window a lot, and she wondered if he might be a highly auditory learner. She knew that auditory learners often look away to concentrate. She tested her theory by occasionally asking him a question about what she’d been saying. He’d turn toward her and answer correctly and promptly each time. Clearly, he was paying attention, so she ignored his window-gazing behavior.

The first time he did poorly on a homework assignment, she stopped him after class and said, “Jamal, you are an excellent student. Your first three papers were spot on and written well. What you turned in yesterday doesn’t really reflect the assignment. Is there a reason you didn’t write on topic?” Jamal told her that he wasn’t really sure what she’d said when she assigned it and was too embarrassed to ask. None of his friends were in this class, and he didn’t have anyone to ask, so he’d guessed.

She exclaimed, “Oh my, we have to change that! If you don’t understand what the assignment is, imagine how many others might not understand it either. I really need you to make sure I’m clear. What could you say or do to let me know I need to repeat something more clearly the next time?” Jamal thought for a moment and joked, “I could scratch my head and make a silly face?” He demonstrated, and they both laughed. He agreed he’d try that the next time he didn’t quite get the assignment. After that, Jamal never hesitated to use the signal for her to repeat something he thought was important. He was making straight As, and he loved social studies. Table 5.1 provides a summary comparison of the principles, working from two different frames.

This is the Constructionist Principle in action. In any given moment, each of us brings to it a wealth of knowledge and experience, plus our personal frame and a set of beliefs that shape and influence our perception. All of these elements influence how we respond to the present moment. First, we “construct” understanding about the way the world works. Then those mental models govern our perceptions, understanding, and subsequent actions. Ms. Summers and Ms. Wittit each developed a unique worldview as they grew up having conversations with their family, friends, teachers, and other influential people. Their worldview governed how they understood Jamal and the meaning they made of his actions. This influenced their interactions with him. Unless we stop, reflect, and become aware that our hidden frame is driving our conversation, we end up reinforcing our own frame and possibly eclipsing others. This simple awareness means that we have the option to choose to be open, challenge our own perceptions, ask generative questions, and entertain a new frame.

Change Happens the Moment You Ask the Question

Recall in the last chapter how Gabriela suddenly tuned in, becoming aware of the tone and direction of the conversation she was having with the provost. That awareness allowed her to check her negative actions and ask a generative question. Gabriela felt in awe of how quickly the provost’s behavior changed and how fast the conversation flipped. In that instant, she understood the power of the Simultaneity Principle: inquiry and change are not separate moments.

Her story illustrates how easy it can be to turn a conversation around with a simple generative question. It shows that change begins the moment you ask a question or make a comment. To experience this yourself, think of the last time you made a mistake in front of your boss or colleagues or were chastised publicly. Stop reading for a moment and bring the memory in and feel the experience in your body. How does reliving that experience affect you physically, emotionally, and mentally? Now, recall the last time you were praised publicly or were acknowledged at work for excellence. Stop for a moment again and bring that memory in. How does reliving that affect you physically, emotionally, and mentally?

How fast did your state change? You probably found that it was simultaneous with the suggestion. That is the Simultaneity Principle in action. Inquiry and change, for all intents and purposes, are simultaneous events in a conversation. Gabriela’s question to the provost shifted his body, tone, and direction instantaneously. She also discovered there were (at least) two stories about the faculty and the project. In one story, faculty are resistant to technology. In the other, faculty are embracing it. Which story turns up in a conversation depends on the frame you are using and the questions you ask (the Poetic Principle). Next, we’ll see how Daniel learns the power of the Poetic Principle in his work with First Nations gang members.

The Story in Front of Us Influences Our Expectations

Daniel worked with First Nations youth and had an especially challenging job of trying to help gang members choose a different path. He had been taking these troubled groups on ropes course adventures to teach them teamwork and leadership skills,⁵ though without much success. Daniel did not believe these gang members knew much about teamwork or leadership, as evidenced both by their failure to complete challenges and by the life choices they were making. He had hoped that if he could teach them these skills, they might take a leadership role in their own lives.

Everything we say and do moves us and those around us.

One day a grant came through for him to purchase a portable challenge course, which included training. During his training, he was introduced to a different kind of facilitation: appreciative facilitation.⁶ Instead of pointing out why teams failed at activities, this process invited participants to identify moments of success and build on strengths. During the training, Daniel was introduced to the AI principles, and he had a major aha moment, just like Alisha. He reflected on the assumptions and stories he believed about the gang members and understood how those things were influencing the way he saw the teens, what he listened for, and what he said to them. Without knowing it, he had been reinforcing his beliefs in their incompetence, and he felt dismayed that his debriefing style had actually reinforced their negative behaviors.

When he started facilitating with generative questions, a whole different story began to emerge. One of his first questions was simple: “Even though you didn’t complete the challenge, what was working for you?” As the teens struggled with this shift in focus, Daniel tried to remember witnessing something that was working so that he could cue them. “Remember when you were able to stay on the beams and began to move the team across the swamp? What did you do to help you stay on the beam and move as a team?” One young man volunteered, “We were holding on to each other. That helped us balance.” Then more of them voiced ideas: “We moved slowly, and we didn’t pull someone until they were ready.” “Sammy wasn’t on yet, and he could tell us what was happening because he could see everybody. That helped me focus.”

In that moment, Daniel realized these kids actually had teamwork and leadership skills. They used them to be a tight gang. He just hadn’t looked for them. Over time, his questions surfaced skills in each young man, and some of them discovered they were strong leaders. He now saw his job as helping them realize how capable they were and cultivating their strengths to be effective leaders in the community. Over the next year, Daniel’s struggle turned into joy as he watched the potential of these kids emerge. He inspired them to create new challenge activities using the modular equipment, and he taught them appreciative facilitation so that they could teach younger boys what they had learned.

Daniel experienced the Poetic Principle. When he was watching for failures, he saw failure. When he was looking for teamwork and leadership, he saw leadership and team competence. It was neither magical nor Pollyannaish. It was simply a matter of choosing a positive perspective and then asking generative questions.⁷ The next story builds on this principle, as Ravi discovers that creating a positive frame for a conversation and asking a generative question are not enough to ensure that you’ll have a conversation worth having.

Expectations Influence Conversations and Possibilities

On his first effort to practice generative questions and positive framing with his team, Ravi discovered the importance of the Anticipatory Principle. Ravi was a senior leader in a large international technology organization headquartered in India. The company operated with a top-down leadership model. In an effort to compete with smaller high-tech startups, the company had invested in AI leadership development with the goal of increasing agility, innovation, and engagement.

Hold your viewpoint lightly. Make room for new perspectives.

Ravi had attended the workshops and saw the value of AI. He wanted his team to be more engaged and feel ownership of the business. He decided to involve them in his project design before he turned the final draft over to the vice president. He had already worked on the design for several months. Now it was all but finalized, and he felt comfortable sharing it. He presented it to his team and asked what he thought was a generative question: “I would like to hear what you have to say about this proposed project before I submit it. What questions or suggestions do you have?”

The team, pleased to be asked, did ask questions and make suggestions, some of which challenged the basic strategy and structure of his plan. Ravi got defensive and began advocating for the plan, explaining why his design was the right one. After a while the team stopped engaging. One of the members whispered to a colleague, “Why did he ask us if he wasn’t open to our suggestions? What a waste of time!”

The meeting ended, and Ravi felt that he’d completely failed to implement the AI practices. What had happened? The answer was not in Ravi’s questions; it was in what lay behind the questions. Ravi had put in months of work on a design he thought was final. He was anticipating that he would simply get approval from the team, and they would feel good about being asked. The whispering team member identified the issue: a genuinely generative question can be extended only if we are open to hearing and welcoming responses, even those that challenge us.

Had Ravi been open to their responses, he might have asked more questions that could have teased out their thinking and ideas, which could have resulted in changing the design or reinforcing the design he had crafted. For example, Ravi might have responded to the team’s questions about his strategy by saying, “Tell me more about your ideas. What do you like most about my proposal, and what suggestions do you have to make it even better?” The responses might have shed light on ideas he hadn’t considered, or they might have helped his team learn new information that further strengthened his strategy.

Ravi’s situation is not uncommon. When we have invested a lot in something we’ve created or we deeply believe in, we tend to advocate for it. For this reason, it pays to invite engagement up front in the early stages. Imagine how Ravi might have reacted had he brought his initial thinking to the team after only one week, with the same positive frame and generative questions. Uncommitted to his own outcome and expecting creative ideas, he would have been open to valuable input. This would have generated a very different conversation, most likely one worth having.

Ravi’s story illustrates how expectations influence the tone and direction of our conversations. His story began with his belief that his team would approve his plan, and this belief blocked his ability to be open to authentic responses to his questions. Ravi’s experience was not unique. In our work with clients, we’ve discovered that most of us are constantly planning, anticipating, musing, worrying, imagining, thinking, wondering, and assuming. This seemingly passive activity affects our expectations. Those expectations influence the way we see, listen, and talk. When tuning in, taking the time to reflect on our own thinking and expectations helps us stay open to possibilities.

In our last story, Jack also has positive expectations, and he discovers the power of using a positive question to unlock meaningful moments with his children.

Positive Question, Positive Outcome

Jack’s story is an all-too-common one among those who have children. Many parents have struggled to engage their children in a conversation about their day by asking the simple, open-ended question “How was school today?” Jack was no different, until he followed the Positive Principle. Jack was a manager in a manufacturing plant who happened to share a more personal story with us. One day he confided, “I do my best to be home in time to tuck my three children in to bed each night. I used to ask them how their day went and if anything happened at school that day. I would always get the same answers: good and nothing.” He shrugged, “How could a child be in school all day and say that nothing happened?” Then he smiled. “One evening, I asked my oldest son, who is eight, a more positive question: ‘What was the best thing that happened at school today?’”

“What?” his son replied, alerted by a different question. Jack asked it again. His son thought about it for a moment. His face lit up. He told his dad about how they got to dissect a snake and how cool it was. He also shared that their class earned a special pizza lunch because they had earned the most reading points.

What is the best thing that happened today?

Jack anticipated that his children had school stories to share, but he had not been able to surface them. Much to his delight, his generative question changed the tone and direction of his conversations with his children. He learned a lot from this first conversation. He discovered new ways to engage his kids. This eventually led him to try such questions at the plant with his employees, where it was equally successful.

The Positive Principle, sometimes referred to as the Generative Principle, is the idea that the more generative our questions and comments, the more positive our actions and potential. Bold, generative questions, like Jack’s, inspire strong, affirmative images. Research shows that we naturally move in the direction of the images that are stimulated by such questions.⁸ All the more reason to make them as generative as possible. If we look at each of the stories in this chapter, conversations worth having ultimately depended on the way the person framed or understood the situation and the questions each person asked:

The five principles are summarized in Table 5.2.

Everything that we say and do moves us and those around us. Our conversations are governed by these five principles. The next time you find yourself in a conversation, take a moment to tune in and reflect on how these principles are at play. What is different about the principles in action when you are above the line or below? Allow the principles to deepen your ability to tune in and stay open and curious long enough to be surprised and delighted with what emerges. If you do that, then you’re on track to be the driver of conversations worth having and arrive at desired destinations.

In the next chapter, we’ll explore how to formally use the two practices and five principles to fuel productive and meaningful engagement for both organizational and community change. At the systems level, you can use a formal AI methodology called the 5-D Cycle to initiate whole-system strategic conversations around important and consequential topics.