Recently at Confused Corp, the world market leaders for unclear instructions and perplexed employees …
The CEO, known as the “Master of Monologues”, announces: “We have perfected the art of communication! Our directives are so clear that no one dares to question them!”
An intern, from the back: “That’s because the last guy who asked a question ended up in the Bermuda Triangle project.”
Yesterday, I spoke about managed dissatisfaction. In communication it means meeting the basic threshold of adequacy without investing in the effort to truly connect, enlighten, or engage with the audience. It’s a calculated approach to do just enough, but not more.
That’s a choice, for example:
You can choose to provide just enough information to avoid misunderstandings. Or you can make an effort to ensure the information is easily digestible and engaging.
You can choose to respond to questions or concerns when raised. Or you can proactively clarify potential ambiguities and offer additional insights.
You can choose to slightly adjust the content based on the audience (like, say, changing the date in your slide template) but otherwise keep it generic. Or you can make it specific for this particular audience’s needs.
You can choose to engage with the audience just enough so that they don’t feel ignored. Or you can actively try to make the interaction enjoyable and memorable.
It’s the choice between doing the bare minimum to avoid complaints and going the extra mile to leave a lasting impression.
How do you choose?
During our latest family vacation we stayed at what must be the world champions of managed dissatisfaction.
The resort managed to do slightly less than you’d expect at every single interaction and they made sure to never even accidentally exceed our expectations.
To be sure, it wasn’t a bad experience per se … which, to me, is the fascinating aspect here and what makes managed dissatisfaction an art. The art is in finding the sweet spot where your service is well below the threshold for embarrassment at all times, yet only the slightest bit above the threshold of dissatisfaction.
Of course, that’s not the same thing as a great experience – or even a satisfactory one. It’s no substitute for the smile they could have put on their customers’ faces for exceeding their expectations just once.
And that’s a choice. That idea of consistently delivering just enough to avoid outright dissatisfaction, but never quite enough to truly impress, is a deliberate strategy. The goal is to maintain a steady stream of “just okay” service without investing in the extra effort or resources that could lead to exceptional experiences.
We might not come back, though.
Delighting customers, even just occasionally, can have a significant positive impact on their perception of the service and can foster loyalty and positive word-of-mouth.
When leadership announces the script for the new year, you can often feel their excitement. The CEO bursts with pride and it’s fair to assume that they truly believe in that new script.
And justifiably so as it might really be a great script. You’d be thrilled, too.
But for the team, it can feel very different. They are still heavily consumed with wrapping up the conclusion of the current script and before they get proper appreciation for making it a hit, they are now expected to cheer leadership for writing the next hit.
Especially when it’s a reset or an entirely new script, this can feel incredibly frustrating for the team, creating a sense of instability and disregard for past efforts. When things are constantly shifting, it can disrupt the momentum and erode the sense of purpose and continuity, leaving team members feeling disconnected and undervalued.
But what if you viewed your journey not as a series of annual resets but as chapters in an ongoing story, building upon each year’s triumphs and trials?
That, in my experience, is a much more satisfying story for the team – and quite likely a more respectful one, too. This approach transforms the collective effort into a shared legacy, where each new year adds depth and meaning to our unfolding story.
The goal is to evolve together, blending past achievements with future aspirations, making every member feel like an integral part of this continuous narrative.
In your business, will the new year unfold as a standalone blockbuster, or as the latest episode in a hit series?
Here’s the deal:
You deeply care about the things you do, I deeply care about the things I do.
You’ve built something extraordinary, I’ll guide you in turning it into an extraordinary story.
You’ve got an important story to tell, I help you find the right words to tell it.
Reach out if that sounds fair!
Recently at Confused Corp, the world market leaders for unclear instructions and perplexed employees.
The CEO announces: “Our email communication is the pinnacle of clarity!”
Employees glance at their screens, where emails looped in endless chains of cryptic jargon, and wonder if clarity is just another word they are using wrong.
The CEO beams: “No one asks for clarification anymore—it’s a triumph!”
In the back, an employee whispers: “We stopped asking because the ‘clarifications’ only make it worse.”
In the dim glow of his office, Patrick stared at the latest report. The numbers were as lifeless as the cold, blue light that cast long shadows across his desk. His team had followed his lead, executed every command with precision—a symphony of perfect movements, yet the music had failed to enchant the markets they aimed to captivate.
He remembered the meetings, his voice clear and confident, the nods around the table, the scribbles of agreement in every notepad. They had seemed like a well-oiled machine, gears aligned, oiled by his words. But machines don’t dream, and numbers, it seemed, didn’t bow to well-crafted speeches.
The office was silent now, but for Patrick, it was a cacophony of ‘what-ifs.’ He could almost hear the ideas that he had not heard back then, the suggestions he had not sought, the potential he had not fostered. He had built a fortress of strategy around them, but in doing so, he had unwittingly erected walls that kept out innovation.
His team’s eyes, once bright with the sheen of shared purpose, now mirrored his own disillusionment. They had trusted him, and he had been so sure of the path that he had dismissed the value of their compasses. Now, they were all lost together in the success that never came.
The chair groaned as he leaned back, the sound a stark reminder of the silence that comes with unmet expectations. The weight of unrealized potential pressed down on him, a tangible force in the quiet of the office. He had been a maestro of communication, but one of monologue, not of dialogue. His team had not been collaborators in their destiny; they had been passengers, and he had driven them into a cul-de-sac of failure.
Patrick’s gaze fell upon a single, forgotten suggestion box in the corner, its slot unburdened by the touch of ideas. It was an artifact of his ‘open-door’ policy, a relic of good intentions that now seemed as hollow as the victory they chased.
Tomorrow, he would need to face them all—the team whose belief he had won, but not their insight. He would need to find the words, not to direct but to invite. The journey ahead would be different. It had to be. Because the pain of a lesson learned too late was a companion he could no longer bear.
Before you can make the leap from good to great communication, you’ll need to survive the “trap of good communication”.
The “trap of good communication” lurks where a leader is highly skilled at persuading and motivating their team to follow a certain direction or execute a plan. The trap lies in the leader’s ability to persuade so effectively that it overshadows the team’s opportunity to offer input, raise concerns, or suggest alternatives. The team’s voices become silent, not because they have nothing to say, but because the leader’s compelling communication doesn’t leave space for dialogue or dissent.
The team may carry out tasks efficiently and without question, but this dynamic can stifle innovation and critical thinking. The leader, while good at getting the team to “get it,” may miss out on the team’s collective intelligence and the creative problem-solving that arises from open, two-way communication.
It basically drowns the team’s creativity in the leader’s eloquence.
The trap, therefore, is in the illusion of unanimity and the false sense of security that comes from smooth execution, which may ultimately lead to suboptimal results or failure to identify and correct course when necessary.
Great speakers don’t persuade, but resonate. They listen not just out of politeness, but because they genuinely care for what others have to say. They don’t silence the team, but give them a voice.
Headlines are the handshake before the conversation: We’re agreeing on an exchange of attention and value. You promise me value, I promise you my attention in return.
But.
It’s a 1-to-many contract: One headline, many readers. The better your promise, the more readers you will probably get.
That’s where click-bait enters the game. It’s attractive to promise big as that might lead many more readers to enter the contract.
Here’s the problem: Click-bait has given headlines that create attention such a bad rep that brilliant minds shy away from creating irresistible headlines because they don’t want to be associated with click-bait.
To the architects of “Hidden Gems”, listen up: your brilliance doesn’t belong buried. It’s not enough to be valuable; you have to be visible. Your insight? It’s meant to be seen. Your analysis? It’s there to be appreciated. So, it’s not about being louder; it’s about being clearer.
Your work deserves a marquee, not a footnote.
This isn’t about selling out; it’s about showing up. Don’t be deterred by the stigma of “Click-Bait” That’s not your game. You’re here to make “Impact”. You have something to say that’s worth hearing, so say it in a way that’s impossible to ignore.
Impact without attention can’t happen. So grab that attention. Your audience isn’t waiting for the next empty thrill, but for the content that changes the game. For the kind of value that stays with them long after the tab is closed.
Remember, the world’s most precious gems aren’t hidden; they’re on display for those who recognize their worth. It’s time yours took center stage.
When you begin to craft a speech, it can feel remarkably akin to setting foot on unfamiliar terrain. You’re heading into the unknown, with no clear path and everything’s a mess. It’s scary, too, because you might get lost and, ultimately, flop.
Yet, much like an expedition into uncharted territories, the thrill lies in the discovery. Initially, it feels overwhelming. The myriad of thoughts, ideas, and narratives intertwine, creating a complex web of confusion. The danger isn’t just feeling lost; it’s the creeping doubt that perhaps you might never find your way.
But this is where I come in, armed with confidence in the process. While the exact moment of transformation is unpredictable, one thing I know: the breakthrough will happen. It always does.
And when it strikes, it’s nothing short of magical. It’s that sudden, exhilarating stroke of insight, where sensation and excitement collide and confusion turns into clarity, chaos into order. The narrative emerges, clearly and brilliantly.
My role is to be that beacon of certainty, guiding you through the journey until you reach that clarity.
As you’re drafting your speeches to wrap this year or thinking about the ones to kick the next year off, connect with me. Together, we’ll craft a speech that you’re proud of. It starts with a first step. Are you ready? Reach out!
