Provocare Coaching

One of my favourite phrases in the community sector is:

“It’s not personal. It’s a business decision.” Every time I hear it, I become suspicious. Not because the decision is necessarily wrong.

But because human beings have an extraordinary talent for convincing themselves they’ve reached a completely rational conclusion while standing waist-deep in history, relationships, frustrations, loyalties, disappointments and years of accumulated baggage.

And nowhere is this more obvious than in community organisations.

Let’s be honest. Spreadsheets don’t make most decisions. People make them. And people are complicated.

We Love Pretending We’re Rational

The story goes something like this.

We reviewed the evidence. We assessed the risks. We considered the strategic priorities. We explored the options. We reached a business decision.

Maybe.

But let’s stop pretending that’s the whole story.

People also make decisions based on:

• Trust.
• Confidence.
• Relationships.
• Previous experiences.
• Disappointments.
• Frustrations.
• Respect.
• Lack of respect.
• Feeling heard.
• Feeling ignored.
• Feeling valued.
• Feeling taken for granted.

The idea that board members, executives and leaders suddenly transform into emotionless decision-making machines the moment they enter a meeting is one of the most persistent myths in organisational life.

Nobody becomes a robot because they received a board pack.

The Stuff Nobody Says Out Loud

Here’s where it gets interesting. Nobody walks into a board meeting and says:

“I’m still annoyed about a conversation we had six months ago, and it’s affecting my judgment.”

Nobody says:

“Part of my position on this issue is that I no longer trust that person.”

Nobody says:

“My ego took a hit, and that’s shaping how I’m responding.”

But those factors are often sitting in the room anyway.

Silent. Unacknowledged. Influential.

The problem isn’t that emotions exist. The problem is that we pretend they don’t.

Because once we start pretending, we stop managing their influence. And that’s when they tend to run the show from the shadows.

History Always Gets A Vote

Every meeting arrives with passengers.

Old disagreements. Broken promises. Failed projects.Previous leaders.

Past conflicts.Past successes. Long memories.

People like to imagine decisions are made in the present.

They aren’t. They’re made in the context of everything that came before.

Trust isn’t built in a board meeting.  Neither is distrust.

Both arrive long before the meeting starts. The longer people have worked together, the more history they bring into the room.

Often uninvited.  Always influential. History always gets a vote. Whether we acknowledge it or not.

Professional Doesn’t Mean Emotionless

This is another favourite.

“People need to be professional and leave emotion out of it.”

Good luck with that. Professionalism isn’t the absence of emotion.

It’s the ability to recognise emotion without handing it the steering wheel.

There’s a difference. When people care deeply about something, they’ll react when it’s threatened.

When people have invested years building something, they’re probably not going to shrug and say:

“No worries. On to the next thing.”

Nor should they. Passion isn’t the enemy of professionalism. In many cases it’s the reason people showed up in the first place. Frankly, if nobody cares enough to feel disappointed, concerned or frustrated, you’ve probably got a bigger problem than excessive emotion.

The Convenient Label Of “Emotional”

One of the oldest tricks in organisational conflict is to stop debating the argument and start evaluating the person making it.

Instead of addressing the concern, we discuss the tone. Instead of examining the issue, we analyse the behaviour.

Instead of engaging with the criticism, we question credibility. Suddenly someone isn’t passionate. They’re “emotional.”

They’re not frustrated. They’re “aggressive.”

They’re not advocating. They’re “being difficult.”

Now let’s be clear. People can be rude. People can be disrespectful.

People can absolutely communicate badly.

But people often apply labels like these selectively. Particularly when somebody is challenging power, questioning a decision or raising an uncomfortable truth.

One of the easiest ways to avoid discussing a difficult issue is to make the conversation about the person who raised it.

Once credibility becomes the debate, the original issue quietly disappears.

And that’s a problem.

Because emotional people can be right, frustrated people can be right.

Passionate people can be right.

The question shouldn’t be: Were they emotional? The question should be: Were they right?

Sometimes The Argument Isn’t The Argument

One of the most valuable governance lessons I’ve learned is this:

Sometimes the conversation everyone is having isn’t the conversation that’s actually happening.

A discussion about risk may really be about trust.

A discussion about governance may really be about relationships.

A discussion about process may really be about respect.

A discussion about transparency may really be about voice.

A discussion about strategy may really be about confidence in leadership.

The longer you spend in leadership, the more you realise there are often two meetings happening simultaneously: the one people are speaking, and the one people are feeling. The second meeting usually decides the outcome.

The Seduction Of Being Right

One of the greatest risks in leadership isn’t being wrong. It’s becoming convinced you’re right.

Because once we become certain, something dangerous happens.

Curiosity starts to disappear. Questions become statements. Listening becomes waiting for your turn to speak.

Dialogue becomes advocacy. And evidence is no longer explored.

It’s recruited. The irony is that intelligent and experienced people are often most vulnerable to this trap.

They have enough knowledge to build a strong case.  Enough experience to trust their judgment. And enough confidence to stop testing their assumptions.

The problem isn’t conviction. The problem is certainty. Good leaders hold opinions strongly enough to lead. And lightly enough to reconsider.

Principles Get Interesting When They’re Expensive

Everybody loves principles. Right up until they come with a cost,

everybody supports consultation. Until consultation slows things down.

Everybody supports participation until participants disagree.

Everybody supports transparency until transparency becomes uncomfortable.

Everybody supports relationships until relationships make things messy.

That’s the moment values stop being posters and start becoming decisions.

Because values aren’t tested when they’re easy. They’re tested when they’re inconvenient, when they cost time.

When they cost comfort. When they cost certainty. When they cost power.

That’s when you find out whether they’re values or branding.

 When Risk Becomes A Religion

I spend a lot of time thinking about risk.

Good boards should.  Good leaders should. But some organisations eventually cross a line.

They stop managing risk. And start worshipping it.

• Every opportunity contains risk.
• Every innovation contains risk.
• Every partnership contains risk.
• Every conference contains risk.
• Every community initiative contains risk.
• Every meaningful relationship contains risk.

Governance isn’t meant to eliminate risk. It’s meant to help you make informed decisions about it. Because once avoiding risk becomes the primary objective, the safest strategy is simple:

• Do nothing.
• Approve nothing.
• Change nothing.
• Trust nobody.

History suggests that’s not a particularly exciting pathway to impact.

Walking And Chewing Gum

Community organisations sometimes create false choices that don’t actually exist.

• You can be professional or relational.
• You can be strategic or values-driven.
• You can be accountable or innovative.
• You can be governance-focused or community-led.

Why?

Who made these rules? The strongest organisations I’ve seen can hold two truths at once.

They can:

• Govern well and remain participatory.
• Manage risk and pursue opportunity.
• Be financially disciplined and values-driven.
• Be strategic and deeply human.
• Be accountable and innovative.

The challenge isn’t choosing one. The challenge is doing both. That’s where leadership lives.

The Question Beneath Every Difficult Decision

Underneath most governance disputes sits a much harder question.

Not:

What do we say we value?

But:

What do we actually value?

What wins when:

• Relationships collide with efficiency?
• Participation collides with convenience?
• Long-term value collides with short-term pressure?
• Community building collides with measurable outputs?
• Principles collide with risk?

That’s where the answers are. Not in the strategic plan. Not on the website.

Not in the annual report. In the decisions.

Because organisations reveal their priorities the same way people do.

Through what they choose when the choices get hard.

Final Reflection

I don’t think the biggest challenge facing community organisations is becoming more professional.

Most of us have spent the last twenty years working on that.

I think the harder challenge is remaining human while doing it.

Sooner or later every organisation arrives at a crossroads where:

• Process points one way.
• Relationships point another.
• Risk says one thing.
• Opportunity says another.
• Strategy says one thing.
• Values say another.

Those moments are uncomfortable. They’re supposed to be.

And how an organisation navigates that discomfort probably tells you more about its culture than any mission statement ever could.

Because the truth is this:

People are emotional.

Leaders are emotional.

Boards are emotional.

Communities are emotional.

The question isn’t whether emotion is present. The question is whether we’re self-aware enough to recognise it.

Because decisions don’t become better when we pretend emotion isn’t in the room. They become better when we’re honest about the influence it’s already having.

And that might be one of the most professional things a leader can do.