In my last post "Responsibility: Where does Gandhi's Steer Take you?", I asked the question: What is compassion? I asked this because living the change I want to see means being a compassionate person. I want to see, give, and experience more compassion in the world. As a practicing mediator, I think about compassion a lot. The other day I found myself talking with a fellow mediator - Jack -  about compassion and hit on something I had not seen so clearly before: the connection between compassion and invisibility.  I am a woman very occupied by the importance of seeing our selves and allowing ourselves to see and be seen by others. And now I recognize more clearly that compassion is all about seeing and being seen.   

Compassion is a word that needs to be reclaimed. It feels as though to many it is a dirty word. Firstly, compassion often is equated with pity, which in turn is linked to a sense of superiority. But compassion is not pity and it does quite the opposite of creating a sense of superior and inferior: compassion connects us as equal human beings.  Secondly, compassion became political with the idea of  'Compassionate Conservatism' and Cameron's 'Hug a Hoodie' call to action back in 2007. This was a shame because we definitely need more compassion to be woven into politics. What we don't need, however, is politics being woven into compassion - because then the latter simply disintegrates. And what Cameron did felt more like the latter than the former.

My fellow mediator, Jack, is well-versed in Buddhist teachings and is a very compassionate individual. On Saturday he was showing me compassion - doing a lot of empathic listening as I stood before him in tears describing what was alive in me with regards to something which had been unsettling me for the past two weeks.  Later, Jack would tell me that he really appreciated getting to know me better through that exchange. I was aware that I had allowed myself to show my vulnerabilty to someone I didn't really know that well - but knew enough to know he has a very gentle, open spirit. I felt safe in allowing my doubting, judgemental, upset self be visible to him. Receiving his compassion required that I allow him to see me- and I let that happen.

Jack also commented on how he had enjoyed getting to know me by seeing me at work - in my professional element.  On Saturday we had been out and about door knocking for some work we are doing together. At one point, Jack and I - along with a third mediator - were talking with a group of sixteen year old boys. I asked them : "Do you carry knives?" This seemed to offend some of them, but it was a legitimate question in the context. They all wanted to make it clear that they didn't carry knives and weren't interested in violence. In response to this exchange, I found myself asking them about they how they imagined other people see them and if they thought people were seeing them as they would like to be seen. 

Jack was seeing me. And I was also seeing myself - personally and professionally. As Jack listened to me empathically, I repeatedly would see myself in new ways - see what was beneath the tears, the anger, the frustration - what beliefs I am carrying that are weighing me down and feeding destructive tendencies (a good empathic listener can be a mirror to one's soul). Similarly, though not as deeply, Jack saw that I was trying to see those sixteen-year old boys and similarly hold a mirror up to them so they could see their selves. 

And what Jack and I discussed as we reflected on all this 'seeing' is that compassion involves helping people to see for our selves and show to others what we often keep hidden - render invisible, stashed away out of sight.  And what is at the heart of compassion is the idea that what we see in others is no more that what is in us. We connect to what we are seeing in someone else because it is familiar. We all know what it is to feel sad, angry, hurt, frustated. We all know what it is to lose trust and to fear. We all know how it feels to be invisible. The details of the experiences which give us such wisdom/insight will differ. Yet, the feelings are the same. 

The more we are able to see our selves, the more we are able to see others. This is one reason why self-reflection has such an important role to play in social change - if we are not visible to our selves, then we will have a hard time not only seeing others clearly but it will be challenging to see and connect with each other compassionately. For example, we might meet someone who has been bullying people and judge them for being a bully, for hurting others. We are likely to be angry with them, even feel hate. If, however, we have an awareness of the bully within - the part of us that we know is capable of being and has at times been, the bully - we can then find compassion in how we connect with that person. This does not mean we go 'soft' and let people get away with harmful behaviour, give them excuses. It means we respond in a restorative way - in a way that is intended to contribute to healing, to connecting with each other as one vulnerable human being to another. 

Compassion is about seeing self in other and other in self - melting down the binary of self and other. Let us reclaim compassion for what it is: our human capacity to connect with one another out of a desire to alleviate suffering because we all know what it is to suffer and what is to desire joy. In that way, we are all equal.  Writing this post makes me wonder how much of himself could David Cameron see in those 'hoodies' he wanted people to hug? And what are the different forms a 'hug' can take? For example, how comfortable would he feel letting the young people he and others call 'hoodies know how much they have in common? How comfortable would he be to listen empathically to the stories of these young people'?  This includes stories of destructive behaviour which I would say aren't about bad people but are about bad choices. And we've all made bad choices.

This post is also making me think about how (un)comfortable people generally feel with the idea of compassion - because a lot of people across the political spectrum let out a nervous laugh in response to Cameron's 'Hug a hoodie' call to action. Sure, in some ways it deserved some sniggering. Yet, at the same time, I can't help but think Cameron was on to something quite meaningful, albeit perhaps quite unconsciously and perhaps not so strongly rooted in true compassion. Unfortunately, in the political realm, we tend not to talk about compassion openly and honestly. We see it as a touchy-feely matter, not for serious deliberation. This is despite the fact that we often hear politicians say they would like to create more caring communities. Well, if we are going to do that, we need to create more compassionate communities.

When you are doing your work to help others, how much of them can you see in you and vis-versa?  What exactly does being compassionate mean for you? How compassionate are you being - with your self and those you are trying to support? How could you be more compassionate? What do you fear about being more compassionate?

This week, I'm going to let Researcher Brene Brown do the talking.....via a TED talk "The power of vulnerability"

I’m a practicing mediator (including as a volunteer with an East London mediation service, Common Ground – yes, I am making a flagrant pitch for the organisation!). Today I did some coaching. The objective of the coaching was to help a woman who had requested mediation, but the other party – who had initially said yes - pulled out before the scheduled meeting. The idea with coaching was to work through different options for moving forward. This case was unusual for me – the primary dispute and request for mediation was in relation to a husband and wife.  I suspect I will be thinking about this coaching session a lot over the next days – I was deeply touched by it. And I ended it thinking – and saying to the interpreter – “Wow. I bet there are so many women like this one. It’s heartbreaking.” And so it is, that I want to tell her story – making changes, so that her anonymity is guaranteed. I have no concrete purpose in telling it, except to bring visibility to women like her.  I say ‘women like her’ with a bit of reluctance – because I believe that ‘women like her’ aren’t all that different from ‘women like me’  - that the story I heard today unfolds in different forms everywhere – cutting across class, race, religion, ethnicity, educational background etc.

I also believe that the fact this woman is experiencing what she is experiencing is a damming statement about our society. Yes, our – not ‘society’, not ‘the society’ or ‘her community’ – our society.  I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again – we all have responsibility for the culture we live in and the destruction around us. Our contributions to and involvement in our society take many different forms including, silence and passive complicity, active encouragement, active challenge, and unconscious encouragement (by unwittingly behaving in ways that undermine ethical values).  But that’s enough of my soapboxing – here’s Sasha’s story (with a few bits and pieces about our exchange).

Sasha is thirty four year’s old. She’s been this country for sixteen years. When she came she spoke no English. She had come with her new husband who spoke English to a decent level. She was scared, but excited to go live in another country. Eventually her family would be coming, too. She soon realized that the man she married was not the kind, gentle individual she had seen when they met and got to know each other. When they arrived in this country, she started to see his need for control, his temper, his impatience and what she would call his ‘cleverness.’

Fast forward, she is thirty four years old and her husband has left her. She has three children who are nine, thirteen and fifteen .  She is taking classes and her English is slowly improving. She understands more than she speaks. Her children are bilingual though their English is better than their mother-tongue. This means, she has discovered, that they do not do a very good job at translating for her – for example, when she has to talk with their teachers.

Sasha has no friends.  Her family has been in this country for almost all of the sixteen years that she has been here. When she told them of her situation, they offered up advice on different people she should talk to – mainly, public agencies – but no one from her family would go with her to make inquiries, support her with language or emotionally.

Sasha feels totally alone.

She also feels angry, frustrated, sad, and powerless.  And tired. She’s very tired of going from place to place to sort out different issues. And often, she has to struggle with language and/or poor service. When she goes to the Job Centre to sign on, she cries the whole way there because she is afraid they will yell at her. Her experience has been that they like to yell and talk aggressively. She has bad knees and a bad shoulder (the shoulder problem, I once heard is a common female ailment – our rotator’s cuffs get worn away and I imagine by the time she is forty, she’ll need surgery). Physically she is tired. Emotionally she is tired.

And, I feel it is appropriate to add, that I imagine she is soulfully tired.

Her children aren’t much help.  The teenagers, likely many young people their age, like to talk back and feign aloofness. When she asks them to help with household chores they resist. They say they are tired or too busy. Same goes for when she asks them to help her on the computer.  She’s aware that learning English and using the computer could open up her world – but it is a very slow journey when she is getting no support at home. She fears her children cannot be changed. 

On that point, we had a lovely exchange where she remembered a time when they were very small and used to pull up chairs and stand on them and help her with the dishes. One day her husband said that she shouldn’t let them do that – it would be bad for their hands. He said he would help her. And sometimes he did. But more often than not he didn’t. One of his ‘clever’ approaches was to send the children upstairs and stay with them, only to go down and offer to help when she was pretty much finished with all the washing up.

As we talked about this I encouraged her to see that her children once –upon-a-time wanted to be very helpful. I suggested that that desire is still within them, only right now it’s hidden. It can, however, be uncovered again. They can change.

We also talked about how the children must be struggling. They are probably feeling all that she is feeling and must be very confused. She would like to talk with them about what is happening in their family – but when she asks them to talk (as is often the case with children and teenagers) they say ‘I’m fine.’ She gave examples of how the children have expressed their frustration with their father and how they do not like having to ask him for things on her behalf.  The children, at times, just seem fed up with both parents. She thinks that they go back and forth between blaming each parent – if they are having an argument with her, for example, they will blame her for the family breakdown. If they are having an argument with their father, they will blame him.  We agreed that they must be very confused.

And we talked about her. ‘What are you good at?” I asked. “I’m not good at anything” was the reply. “Everybody’s good at something.” was my response. Eventually, she told me that at holiday times, when people from her ethnic community would get together, she would often have ideas on what food to make and how to arrange the table. The other women usually loved her ideas and wanted to use them. There we had it, something she’s good at. I suggested to her that she is also good at being organized – after all she runs a house with three children on her own. She keeps it clean, she looks after her children (cooking, cleaning etc), she’s studying English three days a week. 

And how about making friends – I asked if she was interested in doing that. Well, it turns out that she is worried about what people will think when they find out her husband has left her. She feels ashamed.

Shame. Wow. Tough stuff. We talked about how she isn’t unique in having a bad marriage. About how having a bad marriage doesn’t make her a bad person. Eventually we talked about the importance of her connecting with her own strength, with her power  - even though right now it feels like she doesn’t have either.

We talked about going on strike. Could she, I wondered, send a message to her children by going on strike – not cooking or cleaning. She figures that wouldn’t work – they would just happily be messy and go live on junk food. Maybe. It was only an idea – an idea for someone who felt like she had no options – like she had done all she could. 

Throughout this conversation, Sasha cried periodically. Nothing dramatic. I would first see the water fill up her eyes. And then a few tears would trickle. Early on she had left the room to get a stack of tissues. When it was all over, I asked Sasha what she felt she had got – if anything – out of our conversation. She said she felt more confident that ‘social workers’ – though she knows I am not a social worker ‘ could come over and hear her story and listen without judging her.  She felt more confident that they wouldn’t simply take her children away from her. That was a light bulb moment – she’s scared that in seeking assistance, her children might be taken away.

We came up with a few steps she could take immediately. One included going to her GP and explaining that her language skills are not good enough to respond to the letter she received about a psychological consultation (for her depression). The letter was asking her to call for an initial consultation on the phone and had a form to fill out with a number of questions about her mental health. It has a two-week response deadline on it. Thankfully, this had come up in our conversation and we could point out to her that she needs to take action by the last day of October. 

She clearly needs an advocate – someone to bat for her with all the public agencies. Often, when she goes to talk with people they are not very nice and/or they are rushed. Her language constraints become even more constraining in this kind of environment.   She needs emotional support. We agreed that there are organisations that might be able to help her with all these things.

It wasn’t said out loud, but it was clear. Sasha also needs love, tenderness, caring, and affirmations of her worth as a human being.

When I asked her what she was looking forward to over the next couple of weeks, she started to cry. Nothing. She isn’t looking forward to anything. She cannot imagine anything that was going to happen in the next two weeks that would make her smile.

She asked us if we wanted a drink. Previously we had said ‘no, thank you.’ But I asked the interpreter if she had time to stay. When she yes, I said we would very much like to stay for a drink. And so Sasha brought out a tray of biscuits, candy bars, two glasses of soda. She was smiling when she did that.

So much more I can/want to say. But it seems best to end there…thinking about our society how alone, tired, frustrated and scared so many people feel within it.

Last weekend, I went on a four day, fifty mile walk along the Cotswold Way. My friend Olivia Sprinkel and I use these walks for exercise, connection with nature and connection with our selves through focused dialogue, awareness, and meditation. We also, social types that we are, tend to end up connecting with other people - people we meet randomly along the way. This trip seemed more social than other ones - we had quite a few lengthy conversations. We talked with farmers, a publican, B&B owners and the owner of a Cheltenham tea shop (the oldest one in town, I believe). The learning that stands out the most to me is not to assume and to be open - people are full of surprises and different perspectives . And so here I am, eager to report on a dinner conversation along the Cotswold Way.

Our first night we stayed in North Farmcote at a B&B run by David (we highly recommend it!). To our surprise, when he gave us a lift to a nearby pub for dinner, he intended for it to be a group event. So it is, that Olivia and I had dinner with David, Rowan and Michael, and Annie. David runs his B&B while also being a farmer - sheep, I believe (somehow, we didn't find out, only know that in the afternoon he has been baling - though what I'm not sure - could be hay, straw, silage....). Rowan and Michael are a retired farming couple from South Devon. Their farm was dairy. Rowan also runs a B&B (yes a shameless plug, though we have not stayed there!) on their property. Annie, well, Annie is a former professional singer-turned-voice coach. She grew up in the area and is a friend of David. 

That evening we were told that smallhold dairy farming - at least in Devon - is in a state of demise. Where Rowan and Michael come from, the number of smallhold (I think, but am not sure, this is the correct term to use) dairy farms have gone from 23 to 1. I've heard it said that dairy farming is bad for the environment - an argument usually made by vegetarians and vegans. If we use this as our springboard, we might think it a good thing - this demise of the dairy farmer in south England. However, the reality is that this is a country full of meat and dairy consumers. As independent dairy farms disappear, they are being replaced by factory/insdustrial farms: mass production for mass consumption. And as I understand it, factory farming is not good for the consumer, the animal or the environment. Where domestic factory farming is inadequate either David or Michael explained - and this was very much news to me - England imports its milk from Poland. Now, I'm neither expert environmentalist nor economist, but that just seems daft on both fronts. In fact, Olivia revealed that possibly my favourite yogurt producer - Yeo Valley, which I always assumed was end-to-end a domestic product (because of the claims it makes) - actually uses milk from Poland! Pah! Rather deceptive advertising if it is true...

We heard about how farming is hard work. A lot of farms disappear because the children of farmers grow up and think 'I'm not going to do this - slog it out day after day only to be in a precarious financial situation." A smallhold farm requires labour, but sometimes it is too small to be able to employ labour - so without family commitment, a farm goes down.Some people might argue this is 'progress' - industrialisation and no need for such hard, menial labour - it frees people up to pursue other, more enriching activities.  That's the subject of another conversation/post. What struck me most about our dinner chat was that these folks were very cross with Government.  

Our dinner companions shared the view that Government is ignoring the interests of small farmers. Government isn't actively doing anything to harm them, but also isn't doing anything to help them. Everyone around the table agreed that when it comes to food production in England, the large supermarkets are in control - not Government. Olivia and I  were surprised - and later discussed this- because we figured the Coalition is the type of government that would be out there supporting small farmholds and we assumed that the Cotswolds was diehard Tory territory. On the latter point, I'm still sure it is, but I am now curious to know how many of the folks out in the countryside are disenchanted with the Coaltion - and not just because of any Lib-Dem influence upon it...  And, of course, I enjoyed the idea that we lefty urbanites who are frustrated by chain supermarket domination of the high streets have common ground with large sections of rural folk who otherwise are likely to be Tory supporters.

There was one mention of governmental engagement with smallhold farmers: regulations requiring that farmers don't mess too much with surrounding environment. I think we're talking here about government wanting to ensure farmers are encouraging bio-diversity on their smallholds. Which, of course, a lot of lefties I know would be keen to support. I didn't get a clear sense of how much these regulations do or don't bug farmers... but, of course, it reminded me that there are Tory environmentalists - that perhaps the Green movement readily transcends other forms of political ideology. Again, subject of another post (one that I will never write, because I don't know huge amounts about the Green movement, though the Cotswold conversation has got me thinking more than I ever have about food production...). 

We moved on from the subject of farming to immigration. Yup, that old chestnut. Now, you might think, being the only non-White person at the table and possibly in the pub, I'd stay away from that topic. But for starters, when these folks think of immigration, they firstly think of Polish people. And, truth be told, they think of how wonderful they are. Michael told a story of how he went into a shop to get parts for some mechanical equipment. When he realised the person behind the counter was Polish, he was instinctively annoyed - assumed their English wouldn't be good and he wouldn't get the help he needed. He came in not sure about exactly what part he needed to fix what he wanted to fix. So, he didn't just want to buy a part, he wanted advice. Well, he described to the best of this ability what he thought he needed and what types of parts he might be looking for. After a little while, the woman - yes, I do believe it was a woman - behind the counter did that gesture of 'hang on, I know just the thing', grabbed the ladder, climbed up the shelves to a set of boxes and came down with a part. Lo and behold, when she showed him what she had brought down and why she chose that particular part, he knew he had exactly what he needed. 

Now Michael's conclusion to this story was that if an English person - probably in their late teens, early twenties - had been behind the counter, they would have just said, 'Nope, sorry, we can't help you.' In the run up to this story there had been a lot of head-nodding about the proposition that 'immigrants take the jobs nobody here seems to be willing to do.' And Michael's story seemed to be adding to that assumption: 'And they do a helluvabetter job than our people would.' Now, you are thinking that I'm dissing 'British Youth' and/or that the thing is these Polish people are undercutting wages - they work for less. And when I hear that I'm not going to say who is right or wrong. Rather, I start thinking: 'Yeh, this is a complex picture - which is why it is important to look at it from many different angles and perspectives, to explore deeply the different types of information and insight it gives us.'

We did talk a little bit about immigrants from elsewhere - courtesy of Annie who has been doing a lot of work lately up in Birmingham. Of course, the people we were probably calling immigrants were probably not 'immigrants' at all. Some were no doubt born and raised in this country. This is a bugbear of  mine - when do people stop becoming immigrants here? I mean, there is no such thing as a '2nd-generation immigrant' - you are either an immigrant or you aren't - and I wish we'd toss that phrase and others like it out of existence.  But that is by the by. Annie - like Michael - tended to associate immigrants with people who work hard. 

Now, this is potentially working up what is called a 'positive stereotype' - well, for the immigrants at least. And we have to be careful here - stereotypes (negative and positive) have a tendency to constrain dialogue as we put people in boxes, and take positions based on overly-simplified assumptions.That said, I was pleased to be in rural England, talking with farmers and locals about immigrants and hearing nothing but nice words said. And I told them this - I said, back in London one gets the idea that everyone outside of London is an immigrant-hating fiend, and I was glad we could be having a conversation where that wasn't the case. 

In response,  Michael added the point that immigrants were bringing new ideas to this country, including in farming. He had heard that in farmers in other parts of the country were growing all sorts of new types of vegetables in order to meet different food preferences. Am I now going to assume that the xenophobia we hear about and see signs of is exagerrated?  Well, a little bit. I do wonder sometimes if some politicians and media voices are stoking fires, trying to pit people against one another so they can come out as the heroes who save the day from the undesirable 'invaders.' At the same time, I know racism and prejudice exists in significant enough levels and forms (in and out of rural England) that we can't be complacent about. And I'm clear that one friendly dinner conversation in a rural pub isn't necessarily at all representative of what's out there.

Nevertheless, as a result of this conversation, I think I'm going to soften my armour a bit - soften that guard I put up, as a Brown-skinned person, outside of London or sometimes in London among certains groups of White people....I'll move through the world with greater attention to making no assumptions about people and instead being open when I engage with them. And even when something comes up where I think 'uh-oh, here we go....', I'll do my best to continue open and expansive conversation - because getting aggressive and defensive is unlikely to open up the other person to new perspectives. 

And that's my reporting on Olivia and Veena's dinner in North Farmcote....more reportage from the Cotswold Way coming soon!

Here I am in the suburbs of Chicago. Today I was at the local bank with my father. We were talking with someone he knows well there (he's been going to the same bank for over forty years!). His contact is a White man in his early sixties who calls my dad Kris (his name is Krishnamurthy) and the last thing I'm expecting is an interesting political conversation. Much to my surprise, he asked me what I do in London and we got into a lively discussion about British politics and US politics (a lesson for me about stereotyping!). We covered the spectrum of the riots in England, Muslims in England (interestingly, he had it in his mind that all the rioters were Muslim), interest rates, unemployment, apathetic citizens, taxing the rich, and inequity. We concluded by talking about empathy, one of my favourite subjects. And this suburban banker gave me a copy of an article he had just printed out, 'The rich are really different - and not in a good way, studies suggest." He was wholeheartedly agreeing with the conclusions of the article, namely that wealthy people are disconnected from the rest of us - less empathic, more selfish. This all has got me thinking about a few different questions, including: How do we talk about difference without resorting to 'us' and 'them' mentalities? When are labels useful and when are they a hindrance? What types of actions support people to become more self-aware?

In the UK, we've started using the word 'feral' in social policy discussion. Feral means wild or untamed, and usually is used for animals. British Justice Secretary Kenneth Clarke suggested the August riots were caused by a 'feral underclass.'  Recent data shows that seventy-five per cent of the accused rioters have prior criminal records and London Mayor Boris Johnson is talking about the 'feral criminal underclass.'   At the same time (including before the riots), self-proclaimed progressive lefties were using the term 'feral elite' to describe a certain type of banker, politician, and media moghul. When I first heard this, I laughed and I thought 'heh, clever.' But now I'm not sure. 

I support the point - the idea that all the condemnations of 'underclass' people made by privileged people can be turned on their head - both a looter and a white collar profiteer share some characteristics: they seem, for example, to have a total disregard for the consequences of their actions on the well being of others. They seem - as the word 'feral' indicates- to have gone wild. A point being made is that people of privilege cannot continue to call others ‘feral' without looking in the mirror.  

As clever as it might have seemed to me initially, I'm now concerned that in using the term 'feral elite', progressive lefties are feeding their/our roots with poisoned soil. In an age of sound-bites and short attention spans, we want to use provocative and memorable language. Whether it is being hurled at very-privileged people or under-privileged people, to what extent do labels such as 'feral' open up or close thoughtful discussion? I'm inclined to think they reinforce Bullingdon tactics- for which the Prime Minister was recently criticized.

We all have the possibility to be selfish, greedy, out of control. Sometimes we are consciously so - actively seeking to be destructive and with an intent to harm others. Sometimes we have a desire to be destructive generally - usually an expression of anger, fear, or frustration - but not necessarily wanting to harm others. Sometimes, we have neither the desire to destroy nor the desire to harm - yet, trapped in mental anguish and disconnect from our inner compassion, we make choices that do both. Sometimes, we think we are doing good, when actually we are causing harm.

Back to my question "How do we talk about difference without resorting to 'us' and 'them' mentalities?" My answer: we talk about difference whilst remembering our potential to be that 'other' about whom we are talking. That profiteer could be me. That looter could be me. They - these people I do not know, have not met - are human beings who have made destructive, unethical choices. I, too, in my time have made destructive and/or unethical choices - in all three of categories set out above: knowingly and with the intent to harm, seeking to destroy something but not harm anyone, totally unconsious of the harm I was causing. Rich people have more money than I do and therefore have a different life experience from mine. What we share is the possibility to choose consciously to make an active commitment to ethical living. Or not. 

If we want more people to manifest this possibility - the possibility of ethical commitment - in the future, then name-calling surely is not going to help, is it? Well, it might, if it acts as a wake up call - if someone thinks 'Whoaa, is that me, behaving like an animal? I don't want to be like that!" But it might also be a hindrance. It might instead feed a negative self-image or it might fuel ego, arrogance and aggression.

This brings me to my final question, posed at the start of this post: "What types of actions support people to become more self-aware?"  In particular, we need people in power to become aware. Because another crucial difference between rich people and everyone else, is that the rich people have much more power - we only need to look at the levels of wealth represented in the British Cabinet to illustrate this. What seems interesting to me about the studies mentioned at the beginning of this post, is that usually it is people from the 'underclasses' who are researched, researched, and then researched some more. People in privileged classes, as far as I can tell, are much less researched.

In the studies where rich people have been researched, we’re learning of a lack of empathy and a disconnect from others. I'm not necessarily advocating more research - I tend to think we need less research and more communication. But I am thinking that in bandying about terms like 'feral elite' we are closing down opportunities to connect. What if, instead, we talked with people of the privileged classes and the economic elite and we set about to find out what makes these people tick, to understand (which isn't the same as agreeing with) their values, beliefs, assumptions, and choices? I imagine that if we segmented our elite, we'd find that  - as it is with all of us - a proportion are sleep-walking - unaware of their destructive behaviours; a proportion are afraid of losing power and privilege and consciously take steps to protect and grow their own opportunities while limiting those of others; a portion fall somewhere in between, perhaps having good intentions to be ethical, but making choices that undermine these intentions - sometimes consciously, sometimes unconsciously.  If this is the case, we need different tactics for engaging with these distinct types of individual, don't we?  And we also need to remember that these different ways of moving through the world are not unique to any one type of group or people.

I'm wondering what culture is shouting out 'feral elite' creating?  Yes, the label might stir up emotions in some 'non-elite' and motivate people to become more politically active. But in the long run, can we get where we want to go - a more equitable world - using such labels? I'm not sure we can. 

The other week, I wrote about empathy.  I was eager to define it, because I realised that we have many misconceptions about what it means to be empathic. Last week, I suggested empathic dialogue is a critical component of post-riots recovery process – and I want to come back to that in the future. Meanwhile, I’ve been playing around with what the riots tell us about our current empathy status and what our understanding of empathy tell us about the riots.  I’m left thinking the following: It’s one thing to talk about the need for greater empathy – but is another to take active steps to that end. How do we become more empathic? And what are we doing in our culture(s) that is reducing our empathic capacity? What do we need to stop doing and what do we need to start doing to increase our individual and collective empathy levels?  I think one of the first steps we need to take is greater individual reflection: let us assess our empathy levels and how they influence the day to day choices we make, the politics we support, and the extent to which we actively seek to ensure the well-being of others.

In June 2011, Simon Baron-Cohen gave an RSA talk: Zero Degrees of Empathy, where he talks about what he means by empathic erosion. His research shows that our human capacity to be empathic operates on a bell curve. That is, a minority of people have little or no capacity for empathy, the vast majority have balanced levels of empathy and a minority are highly empathic.  He defines empathy as having two components:

·      (Intellectual) Cognitive: the drive to identify another person’s thoughts and feelings.

·      (Emotional reaction) Affective: The drive to respond appropriately to another person’s thoughts and feelings.

For Baron-Cohen both components are critical. He gives the example of how a psychopath might be able to understand that what s/he is doing is harmful to another person, but then will not act accordingly – will not stop what s/he is doing. In contrast, Baron-Cohen explains how people with autism might have low cognitive empathy levels, as they are unable to read the social cues to understand people’s emotions. Yet, they also will not cause other people harm. Low empathy levels alone do not result in a person doing harm, but they do seem to be an integral component of anti-social behavior.

With Baron-Cohen in the back of my mind, I started thinking about all the people involved in the riots.  Nick Smith’s account in OpenDemocracy and other accounts illustrate the spectrum of participants: those who broke windows and lit fires, those who did no violence but then entered the buildings to steal; those who saw goods on the street and picked them up; those who were on the scene only watching but not actively participating; those who were indoors and watched on the telly, those who ignored it all, those who tried to stop the rooters from destroying the property of others, those who sought to protect their own property by standing up peacefully, those who seemed ready – if provoked - to retaliate against the looters with violence.

Where do these different types of people fit onto the empathy bell curve? I’m guessing that the people who committed the most serious violence will be low/no empathy end of the spectrum. Some of these people might have a serious psychiatric disorder and need help to function constructively in society. But I’m also guessing that not all of those who committed acts of violence fall into this category. Instead, they are people born with an average capacity to be empathic. Either in that moment – caught up in the contagion –they became disconnected from their empathic capacity or more generally (as a consequence of life experience combined with genetic pre-disposition) they have lost the connection and choose to engage in violence/destructive behaviour.  

I’ve been in meetings where people – including myself – ask how can we grow more empathy in society. But the converse question is important, too: what leads people to disconnect from empathy? And with this question goes a fundamental assumption –which I think the Baron-Cohen research supports – the vast majority of us innately have pro-social empathy levels. Yet, it seems something in our cultures(s) is diminishing those levels – and diminishing our capacity to be pro-social, or perhaps pro-social beyond certain familiar perimeters, e.g., people who belong to our tribe (however that is defined- socially, economically, religious etc). On this point, of empathy perimeters, see also The Empathic Civilisation (RSA Animate).

I think many people tend to associate anti-social behaviour with low-income communities and certainly that was the initial knee-jerk reaction to the riots. This view seems lopsided to me. Last week I was wondering what links a high street shop looter to a cavalier, high risk-taking white collar profiteer.  I’m starting to think what they share is a disconnect from empathy – from a desire to ask repeatedly: “Why am I making the choices I am making? What are the impacts of my choices on others?” and to make choices based on not only their own welfare, but also based on the welfare of others. A looter and a profiteer are both anti-social, no?

For me, this is a really important dimension to how we move forward post-riots. The aspect of empathy post-riots analysis tends to spotlight is a desire (when people can get beyond the 'they are all criminals' mentality) to understand why the rioters made the choices they did. This is an important line of inquiry. However, we need to balance this with reflections upon our own choices. Specifically, we can reflect upon the extent to which our choices and behaviors reflect pro-social empathy levels beyond our narrow ‘tribal’ perimeters. We all participated in the riots in one way or another – actively or passively. Equally, we will all participate in what follows – actively or passively. I suspect our levels of empathy play a significant role in determining how active or passive we choose to be, and the nature (constructive/destructive) of our contributions.

Of course, empathy is not going to provide us with answers - just because someone has reasonable levels of empathy, does not guarantee they are able to create effective solutions. In fact, RSA Chief Executive, Matthew Taylor (in response to the Baron-Cohen lecture) raised the point that in some situations too much empathy can destructively lead to indecisiveness. Yet, I think reasonable levels of empathy are a pre-requisite to robust deliberative decision-making. Empathy forces us to want to pause periodically and ask ourselves questions that begin with ‘What if…’ and ‘Why…’ – to be reflective rather than reflexive.

And at this point, I’m inclined to go back to the previous point: we can easily slip into a wearing a lens that keeps asking ‘why, why, why’ of the looters – which is a necessary line of inquiry – but we also need to ask ‘why, why, why’ and ‘what if, what if, what if’ of our selves – politicians, media professionals, civil servants, residents of communities where there were riots, residents of communities where there were no riots.  I do see this happening – with blog posts on consumerism and greed-based culture. And I hope this goes further. No matter what our social and economic background or political and religious affiliation we each have an opportunity and – I would argue – a responsibility to ask: How did I participate in the riots? How have I contributed/do I contribute to the culture that fed the riots? What can I do differently?  

I've got a lot of reflections moving around in my head about the riots and looting, about community relations, about empathy, about stops and searches, about restorative justice, about moral reasoning and ethical values.  I'll bring them out onto the page in the coming weeks. But in the meantime, I want to re-post something I wrote in June 2011 - it feels particularly relevant right now, along with the following question: "What can we do to see our selves and each other more clearly?"

Here I am in the leafy Chicago suburb of Glenview. Here I am, while London's streets have literally been burning. London is where I live. East London - Bethnal Green, to be exact. I've lived in the East End for fifteen years, a marked contrast to Glenview where I grew up. I love London. Like many, I'm sure, I am experiencing a mixed range of emotions as I follow the happenings.  My initial reaction to what happened in Tottenham was outrage - outrage at the individuals who turned peaceful protesting into random acts of violence. I was sad – sad to hear that someone had been fatally shot by the police. I was also sad to see that certain groups of people are so disconnected from where they live and the lives around them that they enthusiastically participate in random violence. And now I'm a feeling a combination of frustration, cynicism, and hope. I am hopeful because I see in the riots an opportunity to shift, to start moving in a different direction in order that we might create a new story for our selves. I am frustrated and cynical because I can see the situation playing out as it always has, though cyber social networking has admittedly radically changed the community organizing dynamic.  Conflict is always an opportunity, provided we can engage with it constructively and creatively. 

Where are we now? Where can we go?

I’m sitting here some three thousand miles away from London and here are the highlights of what I’m observing:

•  Ken Livingstone is talking up the need to be more caring of young people and blaming the cuts. He is making comparisons with the London riots during the recession in the 80s. He sees jobs as being a major part of the solution, applying the formula social programme cuts + unemployment = riots. He is being criticized for political opportunism.
• David Lammy, Tottenham MP, is focusing on condemning the violence in his constituency and emphasizing the destructive forces a small group of ‘mindless’ people have unleashed on the vast majority.
•  Stella Creasy, Walthamstow MP, (where there has also been rioting) is focusing on how her constituency is rallying together to condemn the violence and also to support each other in the aftermath, e.g. creating a respite centre with homemade cakes etc.
•  A Turkish professional from the East End highlights on Facebook that Turkish shopkeepers in Dalston, North London have been doing their best to protect their shops and writes: “if anyone had a reason to riot these people have...but they are protecting the neighbourhood according to Tweeter reports...in the meantime a rioter/looter will be on the front pages of tomorrow's papers, face covered, holding a can of beer in his hand...”
• In Tottenham, according to media coverage, some residents will tell you the riots in their locale are the result of   continuous mistreatment of Black people by the police. Some suggest the riots were stoked not by racial tensions but by more general tensions between young people and the police. Some say the public spending cuts are the cause. Some say the violence was the result of criminals and thugs from all backgrounds simply taking advantage of the situation.   
• The responses in Tottenham are typical: leaders, e.g. the Member of Parliament for Tottenham, in no uncertain terms condemning the rioting; some people saying ‘this has been a long time coming’; the police highlighting progress made over the years in community relations and standing by their policies and practices; a large number of people nodding in agreement that there are tensions, yet are also being confused, bewildered and saddened by the violence and damage done in their struggling community. An investigation into the shooting will take place to handle the matter of whether or not the police shooting was justified. To handle the wider issues such as distrust of the police I wouldn’t be surprised if a working group or commission might be set up – adding the existing groups/partnerships establish to strengthen police and community relations.
•  In the rest of London and other British cities, the rioting is in the form arson and looting on high streets. Some commentators are saying this rioting is simply part of raw opportunism by a small group of criminals, facilitated by technology and social networking; it has no political motive.
•  People seem to fall into two camps in terms of their response to the rioting generally: we need to understand why these young people are doing this and be sympathetic to their plight – they are jobless and frustrated (thoughtless cuts by the current government are of course part the cause) vs. these people are criminals and need to be held responsible for their actions (empathy-schmemapthy – how can you make excuses for criminal behaviour?)

When it comes to this last observation, I observe that The Prime Minister’s formal response to London riots 9 August 11 falls into the latter camp. He said:

I am determined, the government is determined that justice will be done and these people will see the consequences of their actions. And I have this very clear message to those people who are responsible for this wrongdoing and criminality: you will feel the full force of the law, and if you are old enough to commit these crimes you are old enough to face the punishment.  And to these people I would say this: you are not only wrecking the lives of others, you're not only wrecking your own communities – you are potentially wrecking your own life, too.

Here’s what I thought when I read the PM’s statement:

Are you kidding me? ‘Potentially wrecking your own life, too’ he is saying to the looters. Surely, if a young person is compelled to go smash a store window, steal and commit arson their life is already pretty wrecked, no? A strong message of tough punishment -  Okay, you can show the British people (and the world) that you are tough on crime, will not tolerate such behavior, that you won’t let the delinquency of a few destroy the peace and harmony of the many. Then what are you going to do? And finally, I couldn’t help but take the PM’s words and apply them to another set of people who wrecked the lives of others – high fliers in the financial services sector. Not because I want them blamed and punished, but because I want to point out that people from all walks of life can and do wreak havoc on those around them - can and do have a total disregard for the impact of their actions on others. Are the attitudes of the looters really that different from those who took high-risks with other people’s money for personal financial gain?  

I want to ask the PM: What role do we all play in creating a culture that gives rise to such groups – looters and white collar profiteers - in the first place?  What kind of responses to the riots will start to dismantle that culture - and what kind of responses will feed it?

We’ve seen this story before. We know it all well. And I’m sure I’m not alone in  wondering: How can the outcomes be different, how can we move on to tell another story? How can we avoid going through the motions of having dialogues where people generally continue to feel that that they have not been heard, seen or recognized for their experiences and their views? How can we avoid reaching the point – again - where people explode in order to release the pent up energy, anger, frustration, and confusion?

Britain has a golden opportunity to shift its national and local conversations, to take what's happening now and use it as a progressive transformative moment - but will it? Or will leaders and residents (wherever we sit on the political spectrum) simply do what we often do and are doing right now: blame, judge, score points, accuse, condemn rather than understand, collaborate, rise above the 'Us vs Them' and 'Right vs Wrong' mentalities? Riots - even if only done by a small few - are a symptom of a deep illness within our social body. How can we heal the body and not just temper the symptom?

We can already see how discussions are shaping in ways that steer us away from compassion, collaboration and creativity. We are locking people into specific camps – for or against, us vs them, right vs wrong.  We are, or at least those people who have power and voice, usually starting dialogue with solutions and entrenched positions. Ken Livingstone, for example, will say ‘We need to create jobs.’ Does that kind of response really give us something concrete to work with? Are, for example, people prepared to loot going to undergo an inner transformation upon learning that they have an opportunity to work? The Prime Minster wants to focus on making arrests and showing his iron fist. But what happens afterwards generally and what eventually happens to the people arrested? Do they leave prison interested and equipped to make a valuable contribution to the community they once violated?

Of course, where people have committed crimes, arrests ought to take place. But what about the bigger picture? What approach can help us construct a different story for the future? I suggest we endeavor to create a different story by stepping out of our entrenched roles, positions and perspectives – by holding spaces where people can take risks, be able to move beyond our fear and anger, and enter the messy, complicated ‘grey’ areas that take us into deliberations beyond ‘right vs. wrong’ and ‘us vs. them.’ 

How do we do this? We could start by asking questions instead of giving pre-fabricated solutions. Most of the solutions we will be hearing in the coming days are likely to be nothing new. We are, after all, approaching the future with the same mindset that has brought us to the present. One obvious question to ask is ‘Why the violence? ‘ And I’d like to put this question to the rioters. Policies do not cause riots – people’s emotions, beliefs, attitudes and values do. Why have the people involved made such destructive choices? And let’s do it properly here – ‘I don’t have a job’ is not an answer; let’s find out what is truly alive in people.  

What other questions can we ask, and what stories do people need to tell? And by people, I mean everyone - the shopkeepers, the rioters, the police, the politicians, your average person minding their own business and waking up to find their neighborhood in tatters. It isn’t just the rioters who are frustrated. We, the majority of people, are in a time of massive discontent (fear, anger, frustration, cynicism). Everyone has a story that lays out what's alive in them and why.

We also need to stop making observations about everyone else – unless we can back them up. We need to have more people speaking for themselves, and doing so reflectively (as opposed to reflexively)– to dig deep into their emotions, beliefs, behaviors, values, attitudes and assumptions. We need some honest conversation where people can speak without being boxed in and judged. Some might argue that a focus on conversation, honesty, openness is an inappropriately soft, fluffy response to what has been a time of harsh, violent behaviors. Let’s be realistic here - where have hard-lines and overly moderated exchanges gotten us? In many dialogues and deliberations tied to equity and justice, people come to the table (and it is very few who actually are ever at the table) with anger, frustration, distrust, sadness, and hurt. Yet, the dialogues at the table tend to give little scope for people to be heard and understood. You say what you say and are either disparaged, refuted or simply given a nod and a thank you and then it is on to the next person.  

Conflict is always an opportunity, provided we can engage with constructively. This means, creating spaces where we:

• Practice empathic dialogue, listening to and understanding all parties without judgments – putting aside momentarily our disbelief and our frustration or anger over someone else’s choices/behaviors
• Start dialogue without pre-conceived solutions and answers
• Openly engage with our emotions, values, beliefs, attitudes and assumptions
• Deliberate and question what we mean by justice, freedom, responsibility and the ‘greater good.’
• Strive to find common ground, e.g. shared ethical values
• Be prepare to see the situation from multiple perspectives.

Conflict resolution can also include work with restorative justice. What is after all, our goal? Many political leaders will say ‘Jobs, economic growth and prosperity.’ I say it is to sow seeds and lay a stronger foundation for compassionate, caring, thriving and creative communities.  A judgment and punishment-oriented approach will not do that. Demonizing people will not do that. Focusing on guilt and blame will not do that. 

As long as people feel unheard, undervalued, overlooked, excluded, disconnected and invisible, we will be living in a society that is ‘us vs them’ and we will certainly not ‘all be in this together’. Or more accurately, we won’t be acting as if we are – you see, the truth is – we are all in this together. It is a question of whether or not we behave this way. Currently, we often do not. It is also a question of whether or not we take on individual responsibility to scrutinize and challenge our beliefs, attitudes, choices and behaviours. Only by doing so can we collectively change the cultures, systems, and structures that feed the destructive behavior we are experiencing.

Who is responsible for these riots? One way or another, we all are.  Who is responsible for change: one way or another, we all are.

"If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die?" Shylock, a Jewish Moneylender, Merchant of Venice

In certain circles, empathy is trendy at the moment. For example, Matthew Taylor (RSA Chief Executive) seems fairly certain that only through greater empathy will we achieve the sense of universalism necessary to address collective challenges such as climate change. Autism expert Simon Baron Cohen, who spoke at the RSA in June 2011, suggests that empathy is one of the most valuable of human resources. In the last couple of years,  I've come across numerous organisations in the UK dedicated to training people - particularly young people - in the art of empathy. Empathy is being promoted as a critical tool for delivering enlightened social change. Yet, today I was reminded that empathy is one of those words we might use easily, but not really understand. What is empathy? Why is an increasingly diverse array of people wanting to step up our commitment to the practice of it?  

I'm currently working on an article about the relationship between individual personal transformation and systemic/structural change. In this article, I am giving a lot of attention to empathy and empathic dialogue. Today I sent a draft to a colleague for feedback and was surprised when I looked at his tracked comments related to empathy: first he wrote 'is this the right word – I can’t empathise with a woman who has been raped – I can sympathise though??' and then he added 'Doesn’t empathy demand shared experience?"

Here is the response I gave to those questions: 

My explanation to my colleague is supported by Simon Baron Cohen's two definitions for empathy: 

• (Intellectual) Cognitive: the drive to identify another person’s thoughts and feelings.
• (Emotional reaction) Affective: The drive to respond appropriately to another person’s thoughts and feelings.

I am passionate about expanding our capacity to practice empathy because through empathy people begin to see, hear and connect with each other.  Lack of empathy is a key cause of many people feeling invisible, disconnected and isolated - the vast majority of us will have had our moments (and some much more so than others) of: 'Nobody is listening to me' or 'Nobody understands me.'

Why is an increasingly diverse array of people wanting to step up our commitment to the practice of empathy? I'll venture to guess it is because more and more of us increasingly want to help ourselves and others become visible, feel understood and connected. We are also increasingly sensing that too much disconnect has created a world full of fear, loss, pain and sadness - a world which is is a poor reflection of who we can be as human beings. 

When it comes to driving social change, I see empathic dialogue - conversations focused on people actively listening to and trying to understand one another - as essential to the foundation for laying common ground and building connections. We are only able to understand each other because we connect through the values, human needs and emotions we have in common. Through empathy we not only see another person, but we also see them in us and us and them. In this way the 'Us' vs 'Them' binary - so common on politics and civic engagement - begins to break down. In this way, we open ourselves up to shift from the intellectual to the emotional and from the emotional into action.

It seems that more and more social changemakers are recognising - though we might not put it in quite this way -  that the heart has as a hugely important role to play in the pursuit of our 'Good Society.'  As long-time community organiser Marshall Ganz reminds us, policies don't engage people, values and emotions do. This is why we must consciously engage with values and emotions in our pursuit of social change. Yet, we often make little room in our dialogues for people to reflect in order to gain clarity, to take the time to present what is truly alive within them. And we hardly have any time to show that we are actively listening to each other. Our meetings and exchanges are often done in a hurry, filled with sound-bites, and allow for people to say what they want to say but without giving others time to demonstrate they have heard and genuinely understood what is being said. And so it is that from one meeting to the next we repeat our selves – tell the same stories, say the same slogans, have the same reactions - and carry the same anger/rage/sadness/fear and along with it a sense that no one is listening to or understanding us.

Empathy matters because it connects us and opens us up to each other as sentient human beings. Empathy matters because it sows the seeds for unity and common purpose. Empathy matters because it stirs us to want to support and assist - rather than destroy and harm - one another. Yes, empathy matters. I'd like to build on  Simon Baron Cohen's conclusion:  empathy is one of our most vital human resources - provided it acts as a springboard for concrete action rooted in a desire to grow more compassionate, caring, consciously connected, and responsible communities.

 "...how to engage and connect...recognising our shared values was crucial.  These laid important foundations for our dialogue. In an organisation that emphasises rules and targets, compassion and empathy for others has been lost. Restoring this to our workplace conversation has been empowering, and opened up the possibilities of change." Jane Lanley - a changemaker in pursuit of greater equality in her workplace

In my last post, I posed the question: “What gifts can compassion bring to us when we are engaging with social challenge, change and collaboration?”  Well, this past week I got an inspiring answer to that question, courtesy of one of my clients - Jane Lanley (not her real name). 

I wrote about this woman in Engagement - What's is it? She has bravely raised the issue of gender discrimination/inequality in her workplace. Here is our story. We were at a meeting together where one of the speakers talked about the importance of promoting gender equality. I commented that in doing so we often focus on numbers, i.e., how many women in senior roles in a workplace, and engage very little with the crux of the matter: values, beliefs, behaviours and culture change. Jane came up to me afterwards and said she wanted to know more. I sent her the Runnymede Trust report, Snowy Peaks. She read it and told me that she valued how it affirmed her perceptions of what was going on in her workplace. I sensed that the story in the report helped her to feel less isolated and more confident in her conclusions. This is important because, when she raised the issue with colleagues, some were more than ready to respond with:  'Oh, you women are being too sensitive.'   

After a meeting where the Chief Executive in her organisation announced a new member to Executive Board, she spoke out about the need for change – asking if the new Board member was ‘another White male.’ She subsequently drew upon the findings of recent research from the organisation's equality team and wrote a letter setting out her concerns about gender equality.  They weren't her concerns alone. Amidst bullying and sniggers, she got over a hundred signatures from other staff members before sending a letter to the Chief Executive. 

I saw Jane two weeks ago. She mentioned that she was scheduled to have a meeting this week with the Chief Executive to discuss her letter. She was clearly nervous about it and I offered to help her prepare. On Tuesday last week, we had an hour-long coaching session. Jane started out the conversation in what I would call typical activist positioning. She was focused on the power and status gap between her and the Executive, on his lack of 'enlightened' understanding of the situation, and on the likelihood that the meeting would start off with him reeling off a list of all that he has tried to do for gender equality to date. She also kept reminding herself of how invisible she would be to the Chief Executive - to the Oxbridge man in a suit.

 "I felt invisible, and [I came] to realize how I could be visible without being aggressive." 

By the end of the conversation, Jane was in a different position. Firstly, she came to recognise that she can control her visibility in the meeting - and this need not require her to be aggressive, loud or adversarial. Secondly, she saw the Chief Executive in a different light. For example, she supposed he could be equally as frustrated as her by the situation. After all, he seemed to genuinely feel he had taken a lot of positive steps to address the issue. Yet, he had been publicly exposed as having made little progress on the matter. She speculated that he might be struggling with the organisational culture himself – like her he is likely to be surrounded by supporters and aggressors alike. She considered that he didn’t lack a serious interest in the issue, but lacked a full understanding of it. 

She also, by the end of the session, had thoughts about what they might have in common, e.g. a desire to uphold the values of their organisation and a passion for social justice (she learned he was once an energetic political activist). She became determined to go into the meeting in the spirit of pursuing common interests and collaboration. And she realised that the very skills which made her good at her job could also be useful in managing the meeting effectively: the ability to be a an active listener and to engage people with the tasks they tend to resist the most.

Jane went into the meeting nervous, but confident and looking forward to making a connection with the Chief Executive based on shared values. We haven’t done the full debrief on the meeting, but she has reported via email that it went exceptionally well. He made good eye contact, asked questions, listened to her observations and acknowledged he needed help finding the answers. They not only found common ground but he committed to taking personal responsibility for delivering an improvement in the situation.

What does this have to do with compassion? Compassion is about understanding, non-judgment and forgiveness. Expressing compassion can mean putting away the labels, asking the ‘why’ when it comes to someone’s behavior and remembering our common vulnerabilities. It seems to me that this is what Jane did. As a result she connected with her Chief Executive in a way that laid a foundation for frank discussion and a commitment to collaboration.   As a result, she took a significant step in her journey to create change - and brought the Chief Executive with her.