Silence is not a sign for harmony
Most leadership dashboards measure the things that make noise. Complaints, escalations, attrition, open conflict. So when a team goes quiet, it reads as good news.
Lightbulb Moments
Kurze öffentliche Impulse für Führungssituationen, in denen eine kleine Veränderung in Sprache, Aufmerksamkeit oder Struktur das Gespräch verändert.
Lightbulb Moments
Browse the latest entries first. Each item is written for a real leadership moment, not for platform history.
Showing 1-12 of 304
Page 1 of 26
Most leadership dashboards measure the things that make noise. Complaints, escalations, attrition, open conflict. So when a team goes quiet, it reads as good news.
I spend a lot of my week watching leaders think. On video calls, in workshops, in coaching sessions.
let's say a project has three weeks to go. The team is 95% done, but somehow the work fills the entire three weeks regardless. It's tight at the end. Nobody was lazy.
A while ago I helped a team give their conflict a shared language. Two words: fuel and water. Fuel escalates.
I noticed something again in a coaching conversation this week. There is a moment when someone is almost there. They slow down. Their eyes move.
"Why isn't this person moving faster?" I hear some version of this from leaders all the time. You've explained it. You've supported. And still, slow. So we do the natural thing.
I was talking about technical debt with a team last week. Shortcuts in the products/code that quietly pile up until the whole thing groans under the 'interest'.
There's a small line in the International Coaching Federation (ICF) coaching standards that I find quietly brilliant.
Here's a small self-test I find uncomfortably sharp. You ask someone a question. They answer. And they don't ask it back. Notice what happens inside you. Nothing? Good.
"Mistakes were made." Four words. Zero owner. It's the corporate cousin of "I'm sorry you feel that way", and both belong to a family worth knowing: the non-apology.

Stop asking “Does that make sense?” — ask for takeaways instead.

Every new yes silently sacrifices time, focus, depth, or meaningful priorities.