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.
Mediocrity is a silent saboteur.
While great things quickly get promoted and bad things are fixed fast, average just stays around.
We grapple with it, reluctant to let go of it just as we would with the bad. Yet we often hesitate to make a decisive push towards excellence and make the edits that have to be made.
Essentially, we struggle to say: That’s just “okay” and “okay” is not enough.
Also, after all, a lot of work has already gone into that piece.
So, we keep on tinkering with it.
And some more.
Mediocrity’s trap is making us believe we’re moving forward when we’re just circling the same spot. We think we’re acting, but often we’re just rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. Breaking free requires bold steps: a ground-up transformation or the courage to scrap it and pivot.
Instead, mediocrity captures our focus precisely because it teeters on the edge of holding potential for both greatness and failure.
In a way, it exploits our internal battles—our fears of failure, our aspirations for success, and the comfort of the familiar. In our reluctance to see the mediocre decline, and our hesitance to take the risks required for excellence, we find ourselves tethered to this “just okay” zone, expending energy without clear direction.
This middle area, not great but not terrible, acts like a sneaky problem, taking our energy and overshadowing our dreams. It’s like a tricky call, leading us away from doing our best, and suggesting the idea that this would be “good enough” and worth our time.
The battle here is in recognizing and resisting the subtle pull of the mediocre that threatens to dilute our potential.
Have you experienced the pull of mediocrity?
Now Taylor knows. And can act accordingly. She took my self-assessment and uncovered her core strength: focus, being able to cut to the core.
She can build on that to work on other aspects of her communication, such as adjusting the angle of her communication to more accurately reflect what her customers need.
I’ve designed the self-assessment as a thorough process. It forces you to dig deeper. Sure, you can just click through and that’ll cost you roughly a minute. But if you take it seriously, you’ll get a pretty accurate assessment of where you stand so that you can amplify what works and improve where there’s a potential for growth.
The best part: The results are presented right away, no email required. You’ll also get immediate tips to collect some quick wins.
What’s working well in your communication? Find out here.
A lot of coaching focuses on fixing the coachee. Someone has a problem and visits a coach to help them overcome it and pull them out.
A different approach to coaching is more like the “sports” way. Their focus is not on fixing you but in helping you to achieve your goals and push you forward.
A third kind avoids pushing and pulling. These coaches try to make the coachee see the possible paths so that the coachee can make conscious choices based on what they see.
The differences might look subtle. All three approaches work towards an outcome that improves on the current situation.
But they can feel vastly different – on both sides of the room.
If you’re a coach where do you sit on that spectrum?
If you’re not a coach what do you seek in a coach?
When you’re pitching an idea, the actual pitch presentation is only part of the conversation. Sometimes a small part. And yet, it often gets all of the attention in the preparation process.
It’s just as important to prepare for the Q&A part. But how do you do that, given that you don’t know what actual questions are going to be asked?
My favorite way is to play the devil’s advocate game and to do it rigorously. Choose someone on your team to challenge your idea in every possible way and have an actual conversation.
Here’s the crucial part. You have to play it seriously. It’s easy to be satisfied with the first reply that pops into your mind and just check the box. Resist that urge and play it seriously! Challenge that reply again.
And when you’re done, repeat the whole process. Again and again. Changing roles in every cycle.
You will never need most of the situations you’ve gone through in that process. But remember that in order to appear as though you didn’t have to prepare, you gotta be prepared 10x.
The hustler is proud of that they made it. They worked the night through and hit the submit button one minute before the deadline. Which felt so good. The kick of adrenaline did its part in amplifying that feeling.
It also makes for some really great stories. After all, that’s the stuff that heroes’ journeys are made of: overcoming the obstacles, standing on the verge of defeat, but still making it and succeeding in the end.
All good reasons to be proud of yourself.
The alternative would be to be proud not of that you made it but of what you made. Which is hard when your focus is in hustling your way through the final night.
When you need to just hit that deadline it’s hard to focus, at the same time, on making it the best thing you can possibly make.
When have you been that hustler? What have you changed so that next time you could focus more on the outcome as opposed to just somehow making it to the finish line?
There’s this rare breed of communicators who just seem to nail it with every single word. They speak with such a level of clarity that their words feel almost irresistible.
Some call it an unfair advantage. Others call it a reality distortion field.
I don’t think it’s unfair at all. What makes it appear unfair is the fact that only a few are willing to put in the effort to truly find these words.
In my work with leaders across the globe, a few consistent patterns have emerged that the most skilled communicators have mastered more than others. Would you like to find out how well you do in each of these areas? Would you like to learn where you need to improve so you can master them, too?
Then this might be for you: I’ve assembled a deep dive self-assessment to help you understand what’s already working well in your communication and where there’s a potential for growth. That’s the actual unfair advantage: The will to keep improving.
Leaders who have already gone through this tell me that the process of reflecting on the questions alone provided them with quite some aha moments. Plus, the results and actionable tips will be presented right away, no email required.
Ready to dive in? It’s free.
PS: Here’s what others had to say about the assessment:
“The results are clear and compelling and they resonated with my self-assessment.” – Jackie Lopey
“The results are totally compelling. For me there’s clearly room for growth but also strengths to build upon.” – Ariana Friedlander
“I loved how seamlessly it worked and the valuable information and feedback it provided. The assessment was accurate in its description of how I think, communicate and what I need to change.” – Pam Benham
“How would you improve it?” vs. “What would you improve?”
The latter is satisfied by “I don’t like this aspect and that one”. It invites destructive feedback.
Asking “how”, on the other hand, asks for constructive feedback. You can’t just respond with what you don’t like. You’re invited to share how you would make it better.
And then, a conversation can start about whether that would actually be better. And possibly lead to a third idea that’s even better than that.
