Multidimensional Executive Coaching

RUTH L. ORENSTEIN, PsyD, consults, teaches, researches, and writes in the area of organizational psychology, specializi...

Author: Ruth L. Orenstein

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RUTH L. ORENSTEIN, PsyD, consults, teaches, researches, and writes in the area of organizational psychology, specializing in executive development at the individual and group level. She is president of Princeton Consulting Resources, Inc. (PCRI), a member of the part-time faculties of Rutgers University’s Graduate School of Applied and Professional Psychology and the Wharton School’s Aresty Institute of Executive Education, and a founding board member of the Graduate School Alliance for Executive Coaching. Dr. Orenstein has extensive consulting experience in both corporate and nonprofit organizations and has provided executive coaching to hundreds of senior leaders. She has held senior line-management positions in several Fortune corporations and, prior to founding PCRI, was a senior vice president at the Chemical Banking Corporation, with full profit-and-loss responsibility for the retail branch system in central and southern New Jersey. She has taught courses in management and organizational psychology at the graduate and undergraduate levels at the New School for Social Research, Adelphi University, and Rutgers University, where she also created and directed the Organizational Psychology Consulting Group at the Center for Applied Psychology. Dr. Orenstein is a Phi Beta Kappa graduate of Queens College (City University of New York) with a BA in English literature and holds an MS in management from the University of Utah and a PsyD in organizational psychology from Rutgers University. She has published several landmark articles on executive coaching and is the recipient of the American Psychological Association’s RHR International Outstanding Dissertation Award for her work, Executive Coaching: An Integrative Model.

Multidimensional Executive Coaching

Ruth L. Orenstein, PsyD

NEW YORK

Copyright © 2007 Ruth L. Orenstein All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of Springer Publishing Company, LLC. Springer Publishing Company, LLC 11 West 42nd Street New York, NY 10036 www.springerpub.com Acquisitions Editor: Sheri W. Sussman Project Manager: Carol Cain Cover design: Joanne E. Honigman Composition: Apex Publishing, LLC 07 08 09 10/ 5 4 3 2 1 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Orenstein, Ruth L. Multidimensional executive coaching / Ruth L. Orenstein. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references. ISBN-13: 978-0-8261-2566-8 (alk. paper) ISBN-10: 0-8261-2566-2 (alk. paper) 1. Executive coaching. 2. Organizational change. 3. Organizational effectiveness. I. Title. HD30.4.O743 2007 658.4’07124—dc22

2007005890

Printed in the United States of America by Bang Printing

This book is dedicated to Nathan Friedman and Stanley Orenstein in loving and grateful memory

Contents

List of Figures and Tables Foreword by Kenneth Eisold, PhD Preface Acknowledgments

xi xiii xvii xxi

Part I. Multidimensional Executive Coaching: Foundations CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2

Multidimensional Executive Coaching in Action: The Case of Margaret

3

The State of the Executive Coaching Field: Current and Antecedent Literature 15 Current Literature Antecedent Literature

CHAPTER 3

The Conceptual Framework: A Multidimensional Perspective 25 Individual and Organization Unconscious Forces Multilevel Forces Use of Self

Part II. Multidimensional Executive Coaching: The Practice Phase I. Entry CHAPTER 4

Initial Contact The Case of Howard The Case of Jeanne The Case of Richard Analysis: The Cases of Howard, Jeanne, and Richard

41

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER 5

Preliminary Meeting

47

The Case of Howard The Case of Jeanne The Case of Mary Analysis: The Cases of Howard, Jeanne, and Mary

CHAPTER 6

Joint Goal Setting

57

The Client The Manager The Relationship The Organization The Case of Howard The Case of Jeanne Analysis: The Cases of Howard and Jeanne

CHAPTER 7

The Coaching Contract

65

The Case of Howard The Case of Jeanne Analysis: The Cases of Howard and Jeanne

Phase II. Facilitating Change CHAPTER 8

Assessment

71

The Psychodynamic Interview The 360-Degree Interviews Observation Use of Self The Case of Jim The Case of Steven The Case of Jack Analysis: The Cases of Jim, Steven, and Jack

CHAPTER 9

Feedback Feedback Preparation The Oral Feedback Report The Written Feedback Report The Case of Jeanne The Case of Jack The Case of Cara Analysis: The Cases of Jeanne, Jack, and Cara

83

Contents

CHAPTER 10

Objectives Setting

ix

93

The Case of Ken The Case of Sonia Analysis: The Cases of Ken and Sonia

CHAPTER 11

Formal Coaching

99

The Foundation: Preceding Stages The Venue: Regularly Scheduled Meetings Interventions: Methods and Techniques The Case of Ken The Case of Jeanne The Case of Jack Analysis: The Cases of Ken, Jeanne, and Jack

Phase III. Concluding Coaching CHAPTER 12

Outcome Evaluation

119

Method 1: Objectives Method 2: Interviews Method 3: The Empathic Organic Questionnaire The Case of Henry

CHAPTER 13

Concluding the Coaching Process

137

The Case of Jeanne Analysis: The Case of Jeanne

Part III. Multidimensional Executive Coaching: Practical Considerations CHAPTER 14

Identifying Potential Coaching Failures: When to Decline or Exit a Coaching Engagement

143

Factors in the Client Factors in the Organization Factors in the Consultant Identifying Potential Failures

CHAPTER 15

Implications for Practice Education and Training Coaching Versus Therapy Dual Relationships Confidentiality

151

x

CONTENTS

Conflict of Interest Use of Self

Part IV. Multidimensional Executive Coaching: Bringing It All Together CHAPTER 16

Multidimensional Executive Coaching: Summary 159 Guiding Theory Approach Practical Aspects

CHAPTER 17

The Case of Margaret: A Multidimensional Analysis

163

Theoretical Analysis Analysis of Approach Coaching Meetings and Interventions Practice Issues

Appendices Appendix A. Sample Contracts 171 Appendix A-1. Sample Contract: Full Coaching Project Appendix A-2. Sample Contract: Phased Coaching Project with Travel Requirements Appendix A-3. Sample Contract: Continuation of Phased Coaching Project Appendix B. Sample Coaching Plans 174 Appendix B-1. Sample Coaching Plan: Full Coaching Project Appendix B-2. Sample Coaching Plan: Phased Coaching Project Appendix B-3. Sample Coaching Plan: Continuation of Phased Coaching Project Appendix C. Sample 360-Degree Interview Protocols 177 Appendix C-1. Sample 360-Degree Interview Protocol: Generic Management Skills Appendix C-2. Sample 360-Degree Interview Protocol: Customized Leadership Skills Appendix D. Sample Feedback Reports 181 Appendix D-1. Sample Feedback Report: Client A (Clear Strengths) Appendix D-2. Sample Feedback Report: Client B (All Complex) Appendix E. Sample Organic Questionnaire 191

References Index

199 203

List of Figures and Tables

Figures 11.1. 11.2. 11.3. 11.4. 16.1.

Coaching and preceding phases Basic components of coaching meetings Coaching meetings—Unexpected priorities Coaching meetings—Full cycle Multidimensional theory

100 102 103 104 161

Tables 12.1. 12.2. 12.3. 12.4. 15.1.

Behaviors Directly Related to Coaching Objectives Behaviors Indirectly Related to Coaching Objectives Strengths (Control Category) Mean Differences by Category Education and Training of Executive Coaches

133 133 134 135 152

Foreword

This is a wise book in several ways. First of all, it describes the work of a wise practitioner who is able to provide exceptionally thoughtful and reliable help to her clients, synthesizing a complex and diverse array of perspectives in the process. Ruth Orenstein sees individuals shrewdly and deeply, targeting their capacity to receive the help she can offer and, in response, adapt and change their behaviors at work. But she also understands the organizations in which they work, the factors that constrain their effectiveness and also provide the opportunities for them to succeed. Sizing up the work environments in which problems arise, she is able to discriminate where the real difficulties lie, helping her clients to see the ways in which she can best help them. Many clients tend to blame themselves for their difficulties—that is, if they don’t entirely blame others. Orenstein demonstrates again and again that she can see through the confusion and pain she is presented with—as well as the misleading certainties—and discern the underlying issues. She also understands herself and how her reactions provide important clues as to the meaning of what her clients say and do. This may be her most important talent, the source of her most reliable insights into what is really going on. Knowing herself, she can see more clearly into the hearts and minds of others. Trusting her own reactions and perceptions, she can know what to trust in others, what to believe, and what to question. But this is not merely the effect of a unique and ineffable talent. It is the product of training and hard work in mastering several crucially important disciplines. This is the second way in which this book is wise: it introduces us to the concepts, the research, the practices, and traditions that have informed Orenstein’s own professional development. She allows us to see that there is no mystery or accident behind her success. She makes clear that these ways of thinking and working, developed over many years by a number of serious professionals, have enabled her to become a skilled and thoughtful practitioner—and they can also enable others as well. Education and training are the keys to effective coaching in the “multidimensional” approach this book describes, and she lets us know clearly what is involved. This does not diminish Orenstein’s achievement in any way. She is an immensely talented, empathic, and creative person who has brought those

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FOREWORD

qualities to her training and her work. Not everyone has what she has, certainly in the requisite degree. The work of coaching she describes is not for the indifferently equipped or marginally talented. But for those who have the talent, she has shown the way. She has also described with exceptional clarity how these multiple dimensions of individual psychoanalytic, group dynamics, and systems thinking impinge on each other and interpenetrate in practice. Even those who are familiar with the thinking she describes can learn from how she moves deftly among these perspectives, shifting her focus as her work with individual clients dictates. Her ideas have been honed by years of effective practice. Even so, with this arsenal of tools and the various strategies they suggest, one cannot always succeed. Not everyone actually wants to be helped or is open to the ideas and insights required to change their behavior. Moreover, not every organization that brings in a coach, ostensibly to “help” a distressed or promising executive, actually wants that person to succeed. They may believe they do, and they may be willing to pay for help, but that hardly means a willingness to face the problems that have been located in those persons or reassess the dilemmas assigned to those sectors of the organization. And that is part of wisdom, too: to try one’s best to help but be willing to walk away from jobs that cannot be done or to refuse assignments of dubious value. Orenstein has been through these difficult straits again and again, and she has much of value to say about them. This book is particularly valuable today. Coaching addresses an important and growing need as businesses and other organizations face unprecedented pressures, not only from the market but also from new technologies and rapid demographic shifts. As a field of practice, it has expanded at an extraordinary rate, offering help for beleaguered executives at a time when corporate hierarchies are constantly shifting and the informal networks of mentors and colleagues that once provided guidance and support have been substantially eroded. Executives crave help—so long as it is not seen as a sign of incompetence or failure—and corporations are eager to provide it, as busy senior executives often want to avoid becoming enmeshed in relations with those who report to them. I also think they frequently want to avoid what they do not have the time or patience to provide themselves, and often look forward to engaging experts who they can believe have the understanding and skills they lack. To put it bluntly, much of coaching today is mentoring outsourced. On the other side, coaching attracts many who have convinced themselves that they understand the skills needed for success, or who have gone through brief training that promises such understanding. It is frequently asserted that it has nothing to do with psychotherapy, the neighboring form of help that inevitably comes to mind as an analogy if not a model. As Orenstein makes clear, it is entirely true that coaching is distinct from therapy, and the coach has to keep the distinction in mind. At the same time, effective coaching runs

Foreword

xv

up against similar problems and requires comparable skills at reading behavior and negotiating relationships that depend on openness and trust. Quick and superficial training, glib self-confidence, even a reasonably good trackrecord as a manager is not enough in knowing how to help another person and dealing with the pitfalls of understanding complex motivations. Today, many are all too eager to earn the lucrative fees that are frequently paid for this work. As a result, the field is immensely diverse, unorganized, unregulated, and filled with well-intentioned practitioners with questionable and, frequently, superficial skills. As a psychoanalyst who frequently works in the business environment, I know that people bring their problems with them to work. Even top executives with successful records can have difficulty exercising calm and decisive judgment. Moreover, like the rest of us, they can often also have difficulty seeing clearly what they are up against. In this respect the world of work is just another part of the world we live in. And change is difficult. Fear is inevitably evoked and resistances are usually engaged. Yes, it might be easy to teach someone to organize his or her desk or convey useful tips in running a meeting—but often the problems are much deeper than that. How many coaches really understand that or are seriously prepared to look more deeply into their client’s reactions? Pep talks are seldom enough. Organizations, moreover, have little ability to know what they are getting for their money. And here is where Orenstein demonstrates her wisdom in yet another way, providing means of assessment. Not only does she appreciate the complexity of the issues to be encountered at work, she understands the ease with which practitioners and clients can be deceived into believing that they have accomplished more than they actually have. A client may never know the help he did not get. He or she may wonder about it or feel disappointed, but coaches who are all too eager to believe in their effectiveness can easily reassure them that they are doing “just great!” A lively and engaging personality can cover a multitude of sins, with clients ending up feeling that, once again, they simply lack the basic stuff needed to understand and overcome their problems. Orenstein has built into her approach evaluative measures that guard against such collusions. Clients and the organizations that pay for services can get a read on how it worked and when it did not. The wise practitioner not only wants clients to understand and evaluate what they are getting, she wants to know herself, and she will search for means to find out. Wisdom in this realm is all too hard to come by. But here it is, both for those who want to know where to find it, so they can use it, and for those who want to know how to acquire it. Kenneth Eisold, PhD Past President, International Society for the Psychoanalytic Study of Organizations

Preface

Shortly before beginning work on this book, the following three incidents occurred: •

•

•

I received a call from the human relations director of a well-known foundation. “I heard you speak at a recent convention,” she said, “and I need your advice. We are planning to provide executive coaching to our senior managers. There are so many people who call themselves ‘executive coaches’ that I am not sure what qualifications I should be looking for.” During a meeting concerning strategy for executive development at a Fortune 50 corporation, the company’s director of leadership development commented, “We have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on coaching over the course of the last five years. We have coaches who have been with us that long. And we still do not have a way to evaluate the cost effectiveness of the money we are spending.” Asked to teach a doctoral-level course on executive coaching at a major university, I searched the literature for relevant intellectual material. I was forced to conclude that nothing appropriate existed in the current public domain.

The need for documenting a disciplined, theory-based approach for the effective practice of executive coaching has been made evident to me by these and a myriad of other incidents. This book is my attempt to address that need by presenting the conceptual framework for the practice of and the practical considerations regarding an approach I have named (hopefully aptly) “multidimensional executive coaching.” The book is composed of five parts. Part I is the foundational material. The first chapter, which serves as a reference point for ensuing chapters, is an in-depth case history. The second chapter defines executive coaching and examines the current state of the field. It includes a literature review as well as reasons for the explosive growth in the practice. The third chapter explicates the guiding theory, with particular emphasis on the following: the psychological determinants of individual behavior; role theory; the impact of

xviii

PREFACE

conscious and unconscious organizational forces on individual behavior; the group-as-a-whole phenomenon and its influence on the individual; embedded intergroup relations and the unconscious effects of identity and organizational group memberships; and the concept of the consultant’s use of self as tool, including how rigorous self-reflection by the executive coach informs the entire executive coaching process. Part II describes the actual practice of executive coaching based on the guiding theory presented in Part I. It explains the process in its entirety, from initial contact through termination, and makes extensive use of examples from, and analyses of, actual case histories. Phase I, “Entry,” discusses the initial contact with the organization, the first meeting with the client, the formulation of the preliminary coaching plan, and the executive coaching contract, as well as the crucial data that can be gleaned about the organization and the client from these first contacts. Phase II, “Facilitating Change,” is the heart of the coaching process. “Assessment” presents four methods for assessing behavior: the unstructured interview with the client; semistructured, qualitative 360-degree interviews; unstructured observation; and the coach’s use of self. Analysis of the data, including attention to reliability and validity, is also thoroughly discussed. “Feedback,” the next chapter, encompasses the process of giving feedback to the client (both orally and in written form) in a way that the client can best absorb it. It also explains how feedback is given from the perspective of multi-level forces impacting the perceptions of the client’s behavior. “Objectives Setting” discusses the formulation of specific coaching objectives based on the feedback, both individually with the client and then in a joint meeting with the manager to whom the client reports—and the rich data that can be illuminated from such a meeting. “Formal Coaching” describes the one-on-one work with the client to achieve the stated objectives. The chapter includes a guide for conducting coaching meetings, a compendium of coaching techniques, and a range of examples that demonstrate the depth and breadth of coaching interventions that must be in the coach’s repertoire and the factors that must be considered when using each one. In Phase III, “Concluding Coaching,” the topic of outcome evaluation (which, at the time of this writing, is still conspicuous by its absence in executive coaching literature) is discussed. The chapter includes specific, practical, and statistically sound methods for evaluating the effectiveness of coaching. Techniques for concluding the coaching process are examined in the following chapter. Part III of the book, “Practical Considerations,” considers two broad areas—potential coaching failures (i.e., when to decline or exit a coaching assignment) and implications for practice, including the education and training of executive coaches and ethical dilemmas in the field.

Preface

xix

Part IV, the final section, summarizes and then uses the concepts and techniques discussed throughout the book in a detailed analysis of the case history presented in the first chapter. As further aids for the reader, there are appendices with sample documents relevant for practice and annotated bibliographies at the conclusion of each chapter for further reading and investigation. Twelve years ago, I took the ultimate professional leap of faith when, midcareer, I abandoned the executive suite to return to the classroom full time. My purpose was to equip myself with the knowledge and skill to alleviate the debilitating psychological pain I both witnessed and experienced throughout the workplace. It is my fervent hope that this book will be used as a vehicle to expand the knowledge and skill base for those who wish to do the same. It is offered to the reader in that spirit.

Acknowledgments

F

irst and foremost, I would like to thank the two people most impacted by my decision to write this book. I thank Tony Gabriel, the love of my life, for reminding me of the reasons for continuing to write at those times when I was all too ready to forget them, and for his caring and patient support throughout the effort. And I thank Vicki Lincoln, my business partner and “soul sister,” for always being there to share in the frustrations and the successes and always knowing the right thing to say and do, professionally and personally. This book would not have been possible without the education and training I received in the organizational psychology program at the Graduate School of Applied and Professional Psychology at Rutgers University. I am indebted to Clayton P. Alderfer, Kenwyn Smith (at the University of Pennsylvania), Karen Riggs Skean, and Nancy Fagley for introducing me to ways of thinking that deeply influence the way in which I work; to Cary Cherniss and Lew Gantwerk for continually encouraging expansion of the work; and to my friends and colleagues throughout my studies, particularly Andrew Simon and Michele Ballet, both of whom conscientiously read and commented on the first draft of the manuscript. Sheri W. Sussman, my editor at Springer Publishing Company, has been the epitome of kindness, open-mindedness, and professionalism. I would also like to thank Mary Ann McLaughlin, Alana Stein, and Mimi Flow, also at Springer, for their support. Stanley Wakefield, the agent who recognized the potential contribution of this book, can certainly be considered the “prime mover” in all of this, and I thank him for his guidance and persistence in the earliest of stages. In later stages, my aunt, Edythe Sheinbaum, lovingly and tirelessly put her remarkable proofreading skills to work for me; I thank her for her commitment to excellence. I am deeply grateful to Ken Eisold for writing the foreword. His generosity of spirit is second only to his stature in the field, and I am honored by his endorsement of my work. Finally, I would like to thank the group of men and women who must remain nameless but without whom there would have been nothing to

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write—my clients. My clients have been my perpetual inspiration, and I feel fortunate, indeed, to have been allowed to enter their worlds and entrusted with what has often been their most intimate feelings and thoughts. I am especially grateful to those clients who so willingly and enthusiastically allowed me to share their experiences in the case histories that appear in this book.

MULTIDIMENSIONAL EXECUTIVE COACHING

PA RT I

Multidimensional Executive Coaching: Foundations

It is the very success of a developing profession that brings on demands for inquiry of that profession. —Chris Argyris (1975)

CH A PT E R 1

Multidimensional Executive Coaching in Action: The Case of Margaret1

As I drove through the heavy iron gates and started up the long, curving driveway, I felt a sense of excited anticipation. I was about to meet a new client—a prominent researcher who had the potential of influencing national policy in her area. She had recently been promoted to head a high-profile unit in the highly regarded research division of a well-known corporation in the Northeast. The initial request to meet with her had come from her supervising manager, Steve, the president of the division, with whom I had previously worked. “She needs your help,” he had said. Then he added, “And she will probably prove to be the most intellectually stimulating of all your assignments.” I entered the main building, a renovated mansion on an estate that had been converted to the research division’s headquarters. I followed the directions she had given me to her office. After several wrong turns, I came across a group of cubicles. They were occupied by women with their heads down, so I politely interrupted the work of one to ask where I could find Margaret’s office. Without raising her head, she pointed to the back. The glass door was closed and I knocked. Margaret motioned me in, and I smiled and introduced myself. She readily returned the smile and invited me to sit in one of the chairs facing where she sat behind her desk. There were boxes and piles of paper throughout the room. Her desk was covered with paper. As I walked to the chair, I was struck by a feeling of great relief. In that moment, I realized that while wandering the mansion’s halls for what seemed like an interminably long time, I had had a growing sense of being a character in a gothic novel about to stumble upon some dark secret in a hidden passageway. When I had 1

The only changes in this case are those made for the purpose of ensuring the confidentiality of the client and the client’s organization.

3

4


at last found the correct area, its somber, impassive inhabitants, and Margaret in her cluttered office, it was as if she were hidden in the attic, grateful that someone had come to rescue her. As soon as I sat, she said, “I am so happy you are here. I can’t believe that someone is going to help me.” She then said she felt completely overwhelmed. She described the unit and her work in detail and talked at length about her concerns. The first was the organization of the unit. She was eager to structure it in the way that was “most sensible to operate” but did not know what that was. Its current structure had evolved as the result of an interpersonal conflict between the two people who reported directly to her: her administrative manager, Veronica, and her research manager, Brian. She described Brian as a “no-nonsense” person who got things done and was highly effective running multiple projects, and Veronica as a highly talented but temperamental administrator. She explained that her relationship with Veronica had greatly deteriorated and handed me a letter that Veronica had recently written, enumerating her frustrations with Margaret and the unit. I took a few moments to read the letter and was shocked by its belligerent and condescending tone. “Have you addressed any of these issues with her?” I asked. “No, she is just so angry at me,” Margaret said apologetically. Before I could ask her for more detail, she turned to another concern. She told me that she had believed that being housed in the main research building, thereby having to rely on the divisional infrastructure, had been a great disadvantage because of her relationship with the former vice president of research, Joseph, who had been in his position for 12 years. Now that he had been promoted to executive vice president and was in a different location, she was more optimistic. She described herself as being “afraid” of Joseph because he was always angry at her. When I asked her what he was angry about, she shuddered and said, “I don’t know. Everything.” Margaret next informed me that she and the current research vice president already had a strong bond as the only biologists in the interdisciplinary research division and the only women on the senior management team. She was hopeful that their alliance would aid her in overcoming both the rigidity of divisional administration and the misgivings of her peers, physicians and neuropsychologists uncertain of the value of her new unit. She believed that if she could ameliorate these tensions, her unit would figure prominently in the growing prestige of the division. She reported that, in addition to her position as unit director, she taught two advanced seminars at an affiliated medical school. The fact that she now had little time to engage in her own research was a source of considerable frustration, although Steve had told her that the unit would be her research laboratory. She stated that her goals for the coaching were to organize the unit appropriately, to develop her organizational

Multidimensional Executive Coaching in Action

5

leadership skills (including motivation, delegation, and “administrative savvy”), and to carve out time for strategic work. She listened attentively to my explanation of the coaching process. When I gave her the choice of waiting for the results of feedback interviews that would provide a composite of how she was perceived or, in view of her objectives, beginning the one-on-one coaching simultaneously, she reiterated her desire to start work immediately. Consequently, we agreed that an initial objectives-setting session with Steve would be helpful. As I left the building, I realized how much I already liked Margaret. She was warm and engaging, and I was impressed with how open and willing to ask for help she had been. There was not the slightest bit of pretentiousness nor arrogance about her. As a result, I found her evident disorganization somewhat endearing. I was, however, quite perplexed by her fear of others’ anger, which had the effect of transforming a self-reliant and accomplished professional into a bewildered and vulnerable innocent. It appeared to make no sense given her reputation and stature not only within the company but in the industry at large. Steve was the first to speak at the meeting. He stated that he wanted Margaret to be an effective, efficient, and happy manager. He explained that he hoped she could become comfortable with directing and planning research rather than doing it herself and that, to do so, she needed to delegate and utilize people better. He told her that she had the reputation of being an “emotional” manager and emphasized that she needed to learn how to get the best from imperfect people—like Veronica and even Joseph. As soon as Steve mentioned Joseph, Margaret’s relaxed attentiveness vanished. She leaned forward, her face flushed. “Are you saying that you think I am at fault for the problems with Joseph? Is that why Ruth is working with me?” she demanded. Steve, slightly taken aback but without changing his tone, explained that this was not the case, but that he had been concerned she would perceive it that way and had thought about having another coach work with Joseph. That calmed Margaret, and Steve continued. He stated that he hoped Margaret would learn how to do more “behind the scenes politicking” in order to make things happen. At that point, Margaret became visibly angry. She informed Steve that she was extremely savvy politically and recounted the many ways in which she had gotten things done in the division by utilizing that savvy. Steve looked stunned. “I had no idea,” he stammered. “I apologize. Please accept my belated gratitude for your heretofore unrecognized contributions.” As Margaret and I left, she asked me if she had been too forceful. I told her that I did not believe she had done any damage to herself and, in fact, probably had heightened Steve’s respect for her. She then told me that she believed Joseph had intentionally withheld the information about her contributions in an attempt to discredit her.

6


I had seen another side of Margaret in this meeting. I had been surprised by the intensity of her reactions and the degree to which she viewed Joseph as an enemy. I hypothesized that Joseph was the recipient of such strong projections because he represented parts of herself that she did not want to see. I made a mental note to explore that in later meetings. As I soon discovered, however, her responses were caused by circumstances of a very different nature. When Margaret and I met next, I had conducted more than half of the feedback interviews with her staff and peers. I was therefore equipped to bring a more informed perspective to the issue that Margaret raised—what to do about Veronica. Margaret reported that things were becoming quite unbearable, and that Veronica was affecting the rest of the staff and had publicly announced that she was seeking opportunities elsewhere in the corporation. I asked Margaret if she had confronted Veronica with the unacceptability of her behavior. When she said she had not, I asked why she was allowing Veronica to intimidate her so. Margaret again stated that it was because Veronica was so angry at her. “Here is the opportunity!” I thought to myself. Aloud I asked, “Margaret, have there been other situations in which you have had a similar reaction?” “Well, there was this medical student who angrily accused me of being racist and sexist in a seminar I was conducting. It was horrible. It ruined the rest of the seminar for me.” “And has it happened in any other settings?” Margaret was silent for a moment. “Well, there was my father,” she quietly said. She explained that her father had had outbursts of anger throughout her childhood and adolescence. She recounted an incident in which her father had gotten angry at her when she was home for Thanksgiving during her freshman year in college—he had driven her to the airport, paid for a plane ticket back to school, put her on the plane, and had given her no money. When she landed, there was no one to call and no means of transportation. She stated that she was the one who was always blamed for her father’s outbursts, so if her brothers or her mother were the recipients of his rage, it was Margaret’s fault. As a result, she tried, usually unsuccessfully, not to do anything to anger him. Her escape was to focus on her studies. Margaret stopped and looked at me in amazement. “I never realized that this was affecting me at work!” While Margaret was telling me her story, she appeared impassive, relating the details in a composed, perfunctory fashion. I, on the other hand, was having a strong emotional reaction. I felt outraged and protective. When she finished, I said nothing for a few moments. Then, the words came instinctively. “We can talk about ways in which you might handle what you’ve just discovered. But this has been a major insight, and, for now, it might be best just to absorb it.”


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Margaret agreed. I asked if she was all right. She assured me that she was. We arranged to meet again one week later. I left the building, walked to my car, rested my head on the steering wheel, and cried. As I drove back to my office, I considered that Margaret might wonder whether her disclosure was appropriate. I concluded that it would be an opportune time to review the boundaries between coaching and therapy and to reassure her that what she had shared was entirely acceptable—and safe—within the confines of the coaching relationship. Margaret plunged directly into a discussion of her need to communicate better when we met the following week. As the entire interview process now was almost complete, I was able to corroborate that this was a perception about her that others also held. We spoke about the need for staff meetings and how to elevate their content as well as the need for clear communication of expectations. Margaret, having thought about it, cited several examples of how her lack of clarity had caused misunderstandings with her staff. As the meeting neared completion, I readied myself to bring up the previous session. Before I had the opportunity, Margaret did it for me. She informed me that she had been in therapy and had dealt with her family history in relation to her personal life, but that she was astonished that her behavior at work was also affected. I assured her that it would be unusual if it were not, and that it was a courageous and important step for her to tell me about the more painful aspects of her history. “It’s like having an elephant in the room,” I said. “If we don’t know it’s there, we’ll keep tripping over it. The difference between our work and therapy is that we’ll figure out ways to walk around the elephant; therapy is the process to use if you want it out of the room—or at least want to reduce its size.” That explanation appeared to make perfect sense to Margaret. I left the meeting relieved that Margaret was comfortable both with her disclosure and my explanation. I was quite pleased with my analogy, particularly because it had come to me so spontaneously. When we met again, Margaret announced, “I feel ready to speak with Veronica. I’d like your help in preparing for it.” Our meeting centered on the most effective manner in which to confront the unacceptable behaviors and communicate clear expectations while maintaining Veronica’s self-esteem. My interviews were now almost completed, and a pattern was emerging regarding the perception of Margaret’s strengths and developmental needs. In this case, it seemed particularly appropriate to leverage her strengths, which included her genuineness, her kindness, her ability to listen, and her willingness to set high standards for herself and others. In structuring the discussion, a key factor was the fact that their relationship, when it began, had been productive and mutually supportive. Margaret said she would continue to prepare and asked that I sit in on the discussion. I said I would do so if Veronica gave her consent.

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Margaret decided to bring up the topic at the end of her regular weekly meeting with Veronica. I arrived at the beginning of that meeting; Margaret, as we had agreed, explained that I was sitting in for two reasons—to observe her interaction with Veronica and to make certain that Margaret was hearing what Veronica had to say. She asked Veronica if she had any objection, and Veronica indicated that she had already shared many of her concerns with me during the individual interview, so it was fine with her. The first part of the meeting consisted of a status report and calendar update. Veronica took the leadership role. Her tone was authoritative. Margaret then introduced the topic of their relationship. She began by telling Veronica how productive their relationship had been at the beginning and gave her specific examples of what had made it so effective. She then expressed regret that it had deteriorated so badly. She stated that she would support Veronica in her search for a job elsewhere in the company, but while she was still part of the research unit, there were a number of things that were expected of her. Margaret then stated what those expectations were and the ways in which Veronica’s current behavior was not acceptable. Margaret was poised, professional, and even throughout. She was firm without being harsh. Veronica sat and listened without saying a word. When Margaret was finished, she asked Veronica how she felt about what had just been said. Veronica burst into tears and left the room. Margaret looked at me for help. I told her that she could not have handled the situation more effectively. A few moments later, Veronica returned and apologized for leaving. She turned to Margaret and talked about how difficult it was to do her job with Margaret so busy and on the road so frequently, how she constantly tried to hold things together and felt as though she failed, and how unappreciated she felt. Her tone was sincere and respectful. Margaret told her how sorry she was to have placed such a burden on Veronica and asked her to think about what support she needed to do her job. When Veronica left the room, I asked Margaret how she felt about what had just happened. Margaret was pleased. She told me that she had prepared her comments in the same way that she prepared for a professional presentation about her research findings. She had thought about what she wanted to communicate, had organized her thoughts, and had followed the plan. I encouraged her to follow that process any time she planned to have a discussion with an employee, particularly if confronting a difficult subject and especially if she was concerned that the employee might become angry. As I left Margaret’s office, I passed Veronica’s desk. I told her how courageous she was for returning to the room and finishing the discussion. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for everything.” I could not decide who was more pleased with what had transpired—Margaret or I. I was amazed by what I had seen and felt grateful to be engaged in this work.


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The following week, Margaret happily reported that there had been a dramatic positive change in Veronica’s behavior. She then reported that there had been a spillover to her home environment—she had used the same technique with her teenaged son, and it had been equally effective. She explained that she had been a “dirty fighter” at home, and, although she was willing to admit when she was wrong, she had always suspected that there was a better way. She felt she had now discovered it and wished she had been able to use it when her children were younger. We talked about the relevance of establishing clear boundaries, and the rest of the session was devoted to how she could continue to define and communicate expectations with the rest of her staff. Because of Margaret’s travel schedule, it was 3 weeks before we met again. She reported progress in all areas. The relationship with Veronica had returned to the way it had been at the beginning, she had confronted an issue with a research supervisor, and she was preparing to discuss a problem with Brian. She also had thought through a new organizational structure—one that would give Veronica more support, require Veronica and Brian to collaborate, and provide a link to the divisional infrastructure. She decided to hold her first monthly staff meeting the following week, and we went over the agenda together. She asked me whether I thought it would be a good idea to invite the division staff that supported her group, and I told her that was an excellent idea. Toward the end of the session, she reported that, despite all of this progress, she continued to feel overwhelmed. I suggested that she keep a daily log of all of her activities so that we could identify those tasks that could either be delegated or eliminated. She said she thought that was a great idea and then paused and said, with trepidation in her voice, “But eliminating makes me nervous. Can I eliminate and still be successful?” I reminded her that all she was doing at this stage was attempting to identify the tasks. Making decisions about them would come later—and, even then, she would be the judge of priorities. That appeared to satisfy her. Once again, I was startled. I would have understood, and even anticipated, a reluctance to eliminate commitments based on Margaret’s drive and high standards for achievement. But fear was something quite unexpected. Did she not know that she was considered a superstar in her field and indispensable to the company? Did she not recognize her stature and feel secure about her position? A “need to believe in herself” had come up in the feedback interviews. I had assumed it referred to her decision making; perhaps it also applied here. I noted her reaction (and my own) so that we could return to it at a later time. Her staff meeting, to which I had been invited, was a huge success. Her presentation of goals was inspirational, her explanation of the new organizational structure was explicit, and her demeanor was engaging and participative. When it concluded, I walked to her office to congratulate her. A group

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had gathered in the outer office to express how much they had enjoyed and learned from the meeting. Margaret was glowing when I left. We had postponed the feedback session to wait for an interview with a former supervising manager whose heavy travel schedule had not permitted an earlier meeting with me. When he returned, the interview had to be postponed. Margaret and I decided not to wait any longer. Margaret listened with interest as I described what I had learned about the organizational context, including the research center, the division, and the corporation as a whole. She was fascinated by the varied, and sometimes contradictory, descriptions of her role. She was visibly uncomfortable with the long list of her strengths. When we got to the areas for improvement, none of it was a surprise, as we had already begun to address the most significant areas. It thus served to confirm her objectives. As the meeting was concluding, she again talked about how overwhelmed she was feeling. I asked if she had kept the log, and she said she had started it but could not continue. I asked if she could isolate anything specific that was making her feel so overburdened. She talked about the pressures of having to please the physicians and the neurosurgeons. I asked her what she thought would happen if she said no to some of the requests they made. She shuddered. Observing her reaction and remembering her purported lack of confidence in herself, I gave her a special assignment in addition to the log—to identify and acknowledge those things about herself of which she was most proud. I also told her that I would send her the written summary of the feedback prior to our next meeting and asked her to review the list of strengths daily as a reminder of the admiration and respect that others had for her. I concluded by saying, “Margaret, you are a ‘star’—I heard that over and over again in the interviews. You have already proved yourself. It is all right to turn some things away.” She smiled weakly, and I left. Our next meeting was two weeks later. I had hoped to introduce the subject of positive reinforcement and reward, the only item in the feedback that we had not yet examined in depth. Margaret seemed unusually distracted when I arrived. She did not greet me with her usual warm hello. Instead, she said, “I am still completely overwhelmed!” When I asked her if she had any sense of why, she emphatically stated it was because she had so much to do and had to do all of it well. “So what I’m hearing you say is that you can’t say no to anything and that it all has to be A+ effort.” She said, with unmistakable defiance in her voice, that that was essentially the case. I asked her why, and she answered, with obvious annoyance, “We went through that last time. I really don’t feel as though I am in a position to say no.” This was the first time I was aware of encountering resistance from Margaret. Why, after all of this time, all that she had shared with me, and all that she had been willing to undertake, was this happening now?


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I then asked her if she had reviewed the list of strengths. She reacted sharply: “I am really very uncomfortable doing that. I admire humility, and I want to continue to be humble. And I wish you would stop calling me a ‘star.’ ” I was taken aback by Margaret’s words and the passion with which she said them. It took a moment to recover. “Margaret, what is this all about?” I quietly asked. Margaret was intense but calm as she responded to my question: “When I was 5 years old, I played in violin competitions. I had to win. I had to be my mother’s ‘star.’ So I won every competition. But my mother also always told me, ‘Pride cometh before the fall,’ so I wouldn’t get arrogant about my winning. I always felt like such a bad person because I could never be anyone’s friend; they were my competitors, and I had to beat them. I have heard ‘Pride cometh before the fall’ my whole life. Any time things have gone really well and then something awful happened, I felt that it was my punishment.” Margaret talked about how she discovered herself at 15, when she spent a summer away from home studying music, and realized that she was not as talented as many others. Being there had shown her a different life, and it had had a strong impact. “My mother brought me up to be a ‘Boston Brahmin,’ ” she continued. “As soon as I could, I left home and moved to Southern California. I married a Silicon Valley executive, started giving dinner parties, had my children, and one day woke up and realized I was a Californian ‘Boston Brahmin.’ I got divorced and went back to school. Those were hard years as a single parent and a full-time student, but I did it. I had this really nice boyfriend for a while. He jilted me, and I was crushed … I kept thinking, ‘Pride cometh before the fall.’ ” She was then silent, appearing to be lost in thought. As Margaret had spoken, I found it increasingly more difficult to fight my tears. My mother had been a child prodigy who had renounced the piano when she was 14 because she hated to perform. I grew up hearing about those painful years from my mother and my grandmother. My nephew had just turned four, and I imagined him sitting at a piano, his little fingers at the keys hour after hour. I imagined Margaret as a child, having to win. I felt as though my heart were breaking for her. After several minutes, she looked at me and said that even though she knew that her mother had made many mistakes, she believed her mother tried her best. I realized Margaret had had enough, so I said that most parents try to do what they think is best, but sometimes they cannot tell the difference between what is right for them and what is right for their children. What was important for our work was to discover the ways in which these experiences were inhibiting her from being effective professionally. I suggested that we end the session and that she think about it until the next time we met. I checked to

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see that she was as composed as she appeared; she was. I reminded her that she could call me if she needed me, and I left. Once again, I got to my car, put my head on the steering wheel, and allowed my tears to flow for her. She had been through so much in her life, had overcome so much, and I was concerned that I had pushed her too far too fast. I felt inadequate to deal with these issues, and I wondered if I should recommend that she reenter therapy before continuing with our work. I came to the next meeting with some trepidation. I was prepared to make the recommendation that she return to therapy. When I arrived, she greeted me cordially. Before I could say anything, she told me that she was preparing to confront an issue with Brian and was confident that she could handle it. She also told me that she had had another staff meeting and was very pleased with the outcome. She had used it as an opportunity to give praise and recognition to her staff and had seen their positive responses. She then reported that she had thought about “the competition issue” and had practiced doing an “adequate” rather than an “exceptional” job at a recent professional convention. She said that it felt good not to have to “perform” and that the reception had been fine. I was astonished. Margaret had already begun to integrate her painful insight. My admiration and esteem for her was immeasurable. She paused briefly and then smiled at me as she said, “You called me a ‘star.’ That was the trigger for what came up. Now that I know that anger, especially male anger, reminds me of my father, and having to perform reminds me of my mother, I can deal with it.” I said to Margaret, “You are a remarkable person.” She smiled warmly. There was nothing more to say. We agreed to wait a month before the next session. I left convinced that we had reached our objectives; at this point, Margaret needed only reinforcement. The next session revealed some of the old behavior patterns. Margaret was irritated with Brian but had not spoken to him because she was afraid he would quit. In addition, Margaret was again feeling overburdened. After some brief discussion, Margaret decided to resolve the difficulty with Brian by affirming her great confidence in him and then explaining that there was just one area in which he could improve his performance. She also decided to meet with the heads of the other research departments to discuss priorities and necessary resources. She was confident about her ability to have all of these conversations, and we agreed to wait another month. Margaret began that session by reporting that she was beginning to feel overwhelmed again. This time, it was because she felt that she did not have anyone to whom to delegate the more complex aspects of the biological research. In addition, her husband was urging her to stop working so hard on


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weekends and engage in more leisure activities with him. I asked her if it was likely that she would keep the current research staff intact, and she responded with an emphatic yes. I then asked what her alternatives were. She thought for a moment and announced that she did have money in her budget but that she had been hoarding it because she was worried about possible budget cuts. She took a deep breath and added, “But perhaps now is the time to stop acting toward the unit the way I operated struggling through graduate school as a single parent with young children.” She determined that she would hire more people with expertise in the required area. I congratulated her. Aside from this matter, she felt that everything else was under control, including her ability to choose when and how to deal with employee issues as they arose. As the meeting drew to a close, I told Margaret that it sounded as if our work were done. She panicked and pleaded for one more session. I told her I did not really think she needed it but that I would be happy to have another session. We agree to wait 2 months before meeting, unless she had the need to speak to me sooner. When I arrived at our final session, Margaret said she was pleased to see me but did not have anything to talk about. I told her how delighted I was to hear that. She told me that she had gained an enormous amount from the coaching, had a unit that was operating well with happy people in it, and was still busy but no longer overwhelmed. She said she had learned how important it is to establish clear expectations with people and communicate when the expectations were not being met—both with her own staff and with colleagues. She also said she had never understood the importance of recognition for others until now. Finally, she said she realized that when people are angry, it may not be directed against her—maybe not even in the case of her father’s anger—and while it would always be hard for her, she could now deal with it more effectively. The only question she had was whether we should meet with Steve to find out if he felt that the objectives had been met. I told her we could certainly do that, but it was my understanding that he had already indicated to her that he saw the positive changes. She agreed that he had repeatedly demonstrated his growing confidence in her, so she did not think it was necessary for that purpose but explained that what she really wanted to do was make sure that she was counteracting all the negative things she was certain Joseph was continuing to say about her. I asked her why she thought Joseph had such omnipotence, and she responded by saying that Joseph could be president some day and make life miserable for her. “Margaret, I think it’s time for you to invite Joseph out to lunch and make peace with him,” I said. She recoiled and told me she was not ready to do that. I told her that if she wasn’t ready, that was all right, but it was the one remaining thing that needed to be confronted. She said that she would do it in time, but not yet. “Think of

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it as your last homework assignment with a due date that is self-imposed,” I said. She nodded and smiled, and I smiled back. I told her how much I had enjoyed working with her and that she could feel free to call me if she needed me—and that doing so did not mean she was failing. She thanked me, and we said good-bye. As I left, I thought about how much she had accomplished, how privileged I felt to be a part of her process, and how much I would miss her. This dramatic and compelling case exemplifies the executive coaching process presented in this book. To the uninitiated, there will be a temptation to explain the change in Margaret simplistically: Two insights about the impact of her childhood experience caused her to reassess her circumstances at work and enabled her to change her behavior. While not incorrect, such an analysis stays at only the most superficial of levels2 and fails to recognize the central themes inherent in the case: 1. That executive coaching is a complex and demanding process encompassing multidimensional interrelationships among the client, the client’s organization, and the consultant. 2. That there must be a reliable methodological framework within which to do the work of executive coaching. 3. That the executive coaching methodology must be guided by theory comprising not only individuals but also organizations and groups. 4. That the consultant doing executive coaching must have (a) training and expertise in management, organizational psychology, and individual psychology; (b) a full knowledge of ethical standards and guidelines related to the field; and (c) the demonstrated capacity to engage in self-scrutiny and self-reflection. These are also the central themes of this book. They will appear repeatedly in the chapters that follow.

2

The full case analysis is the content of the last chapter of this book, presented there as an encapsulation of all the material that precedes it.

CH A PT E R 2

The State of the Executive Coaching Field: Current and Antecedent Literature1

Over the course of the last decade, formidable dramas have been inexorably unfolding across the organizational landscapes of this country. Leadership crises in every sector of our society are causing a lack of trust and confidence in those running our businesses, governmental agencies, and religious institutions. The pervasiveness of downsizing as a quick-fix solution to plummeting stock prices has virtually eliminated middle management and placed heavy burdens, both professionally and psychologically, on those who remain. The increasing disappearance in executive offices of individuals beyond early middle age has vastly diminished a resource with the natural capacity for wisdom and mentorship. Against this backdrop, and arguably as a direct consequence, a remarkable phenomenon has emerged: the staggering demand for executive coaching, a one-on-one intervention with a senior manager for the purpose of improving or enhancing management skills. Most recently reported to be a market worth $1 billion and expected to double in the next 2 years (“Corporate therapy,” 2003), executive coaching is currently provided across corporate, governmental and nonprofit sectors by more than 10,000 practitioners in the United States (Rivera, 2002) and 15,000 worldwide (Greco, 2001). Executive coaches 1

The introduction to this chapter appears in: Orenstein, R. L. (2006). Measuring executive coaching efficacy? The answer was right here all the time. Consulting Psychology Journal: Practice and Research, 58 (2), 106–116. Copyright 2006 by the American Psychological Association and reprinted with permission. The remainder of the chapter appears in: Orenstein, R. L. (2002). Executive coaching: It’s not just about the executive. The Journal of Applied Behavioral Science, 38(2), 355–374. Copyright 2000 by NTL Institute.

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come from a multiplicity of disciplines with a broad range of credentials and use a diverse array of techniques in the service of improving the performance of the managers with whom they work (Judge & Cowell, 1996; Kilburg, 1996, 2000).

CURRENT LITERATURE In view of the apparent plethora of coaches, a substantive literature regarding the field has remained relatively limited. While recent contributions have raised issues regarding standards of competence and outcome evaluation (both of which will be discussed in detail in later chapters), these aspects of executive coaching remain incomplete or inconclusive (Kampa-Kokesch & Anderson, 2001). Two categories of inquiry, however, have received broader attention: (1) description of specific executive coaching methodologies by practitioners in the field and (2) definition and designation of the practice.

Executive Coaching Methodologies In the first category, the majority of the methodologies are based on behavioral approaches to help the individual adapt to the organization. For Saporito (1996), organizational exigencies are preeminent: “If senior executives are going to view developmental coaching as being useful, it had better be evident to them that our efforts are intimately tied to the realities of the business” (p. 96). He presents a process that begins with an understanding of organizational imperatives, role success factors, and behavioral requirements for the specific position. Adapting the individual’s behavior is accomplished through individual assessment, feedback, developmental planning, and implementation of the plan. Diedrich’s (1996) methodology is based on the premise that behavior is a function of both role and personality: “We … try to define what the desired balance between the externally defined role expectations and the internally defined personality dispositions of the executive needs to look like going forward” (p. 62). His process consists of defining competencies for the position, identifying the style and social motives of the individual, and providing ongoing feedback and coaching for individual performance. Brotman and Liberi (1998) move the primary focus back to the individual, arguing for a psychologically based process leading to sustained behavioral change. They define the latter as a change in behavior that is consistent even when under stress and that results from psychological insight subsequently translated into observable behaviors.

The State of the Executive Coaching Field

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Other practitioners take the position that the purpose of executive coaching is to change character. Kaplan, Drath, and Kofodimos (1991) view a shift in character as the desired outcome of executive coaching. Basing their work on the belief that leadership involves the whole person, the inner as well as the outer, and that the pressures of executive-level positions discourage self-reflection, they approach coaching through three major vehicles—examination of how leadership reflects character, the impact of childhood experiences, and similarities between work and personal realms. An extensive interview and feedback process followed by a defined plan for followthrough are at the heart of the methodology. Kiel, Rimmer, Williams, and Doyle (1996) use as the conceptual basis for their methodology the view that individuals are shaped by their past, their personal lives, and their work environments. Their process consists of extensive data collection about both the individual and the needs of the organization, a comprehensive feedback session, and implementation and development that encompasses ongoing coaching, support, and feedback and that includes involvement by relevant individuals in the client’s organizational and personal spheres. Kilburg (1997, 2000), relying on a theoretical framework based on systems theory, psychoanalytical theory, and complexity theory, asserts that executive coaching deals with issues of character and, concomitantly, of unconscious psychological conflict in individuals and in the groups and organizations that they impact. He sees improving the self-awareness of the client as the goal of executive coaching, and he proposes three major techniques with which to accomplish it. The first is getting problems on the table so that they can be consciously explored, the second is making the unsaid said so that systemic collusion in maintaining silence on key issues is addressed, and the third is making the unconscious conscious. He also suggests that creating a safe environment and approaching the rational side of the client are critical for effective coaching.

Definition and Designation of Executive Coaching Practice Sperry (1993) is among those who contribute to the second category of the literature. He distinguishes among three roles for those involved in interventions with individual executives. The first of these is executive consulting, which Sperry describes as an advisory function, with the consultant serving as a sounding board or a vehicle to help the executive formulate the correct questions and make informed decisions. Here, meetings take place at the executive’s office, with an agenda and time requirements set by the executive. The second role is executive counseling and psychotherapy. In this case, characterological issues are addressed, the executive and therapist mutually

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set the agenda, and the meeting takes place at the therapist’s office within a specific time frame. Executive coaching is the third role. Sperry defines it as “the teaching of skills in the context of a personal relationship with a learner” (p. 264). He sees it as a role that does not involve deep disclosure on the part of the executive and consequently does not require a close bond or stringent mechanisms to safeguard confidentiality. A number of practitioners disagree with Sperry, including Witherspoon and White (1996). They see coaching for skills as only one in a continuum of roles within the purview of the executive coach. They add coaching for performance, in which the client is helped to become more effective in the current job; coaching for development, in which the client prepares for advancement through addressing long-term developmental needs; and coaching for the executive’s agenda, in which there is comprehensive learning in areas of organizational leadership or personal well-being, or both. Levinson (1996) appears to agree with Whitherspoon and White, arguing that coaching can range from modifying negative behavior to defining role to career planning and, when appropriate, therapeutic referral. He does, however, caution that the word coach be taken seriously and agrees with a distinction between psychotherapy and coaching, advising that “executive coaching does not allow time for developing a therapeutic alliance, dealing with the transference problem and dealing with the ambivalence engendered when the client becomes dependent on the coach” (p. 115). Tobias (1996) contends that the distinction between executive coaching and executive consulting or counseling is largely semantic and, if at all extant, is purely one of focus: “Whereas when I am doing consulting the focus tends to be on the entire organization, when I am doing coaching, the focus is more on a single individual” (p. 88). He also points out that coaching may go on within or outside of an ongoing consultation, noting that, in the latter case, there are consequences to the inability to understand and to intervene in systemic issues that are affecting the individual: In my experience, most diagnoses made by executives about a “problem person” are, at best, only partially correct. Seldom do they sufficiently account for the setting events that trigger the behavior…. Usually, the organization needs to give a little too by breaking down bureaucratic barriers, providing emotional support, tolerating failures, providing sponsors and the like…. It is essential for the coach to keep in mind that relevant others may not only be potentially part of the solution, but they are usually directly or indirectly part of the problem…. In fact, perhaps the greatest danger in doing coaching with individuals from organizations in which there is no ongoing consulting relationship is the possibility that the psychologist may inadvertently participate in the scapegoating of an individual by an organization or by a boss who is unable to or does not want to look deeply enough at the


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ways that the environment may be supporting the conditions underlying the individual’s seemingly maladaptive response. (pp. 88–89)

Tobias thus makes evident the inextricable overlap between consulting to the individual and consulting to the organization. In doing so, he creates an opening for a body of knowledge that, although virtually absent from the current literature, can rightfully be called a direct antecedent. It encompasses theory and practice that come not from psychotherapy, the apparent conceptual precursor in the literature, but from the social-systems thinking inherent in organizational psychology. Within this discipline, three classic research projects exemplify its legacy to contemporary coaching methodology.

ANTECEDENT LITERATURE The Tremont Hotel Project The Tremont Hotel Project (Whyte & Hamilton, 1965) was a system-wide intervention within the hotel industry that transpired from 1946 to 1947. The researchers began the project at the behest of the hotel’s general manager, who was interested in understanding the role of human relations and the personnel function. Making extensive use of interviewing and observation techniques, the researchers analyzed the problems of the organization from multiple levels— group, intergroup, and individual. Subsequent interventions into every department in the hotel focused on groups as the central unit. At the conclusion of the first year, the team had accomplished six objectives: (1) a new role for personnel function that included enhanced human relations; (2) improvement in the quality of interpersonal relations; (3) reduced labor turnover and increased safety; (4) the development of managers and supervisors, particularly in relation to leadership in group meetings; (5) the perception of improved efficiency and productivity; and (6) the transfer of the initiative to the personnel function. The fact that the contract was not renewed was attributed to the team’s failure to address one of the most critical aspects of the organizational problems—the individual leadership behavior of the senior manager. Whyte retrospectively realized that he had not addressed the issue directly because of his own timidity and his ego involvement in continuing the project. Once the project was discontinued, however, Whyte reacted differently, and he was startled by the result: Having nothing to gain through holding anything back, I decided to build a main part of the report on our analysis of Smith’s leadership style…. I presented him with the ten points used in analyzing his behavior…. Smith was so eager to get it that he locked himself in his office immediately and read

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MULTIDIMENSIONAL EXECUTIVE COACHING it straight through. When he called me in, it was to express enthusiasm, particularly for my analysis of his own executive behavior. Later, he called his management group together … [and told them] I had pointed out that he was the main personnel problem of the hotel, and that he intended to profit from the criticisms I had made. This response left me in a somewhat dazed condition…. I should have taken the initiative much earlier, and confronted him in discussion with our view of his leadership behavior and of its impact upon the organization. (pp. 177–178)

The study’s ultimate conclusion regarding Smith is one that has great relevance to executive coaching as we know it today—that changes in the organization and changes in key individuals are inextricably linked.

The Claypool Furniture and Appliances Study The study at Claypool Furniture and Appliances (Levinson, Molinari, & Spohn, 1972) took place in 1970 at the request of its president, Robert Claypool III, who was interested in the application of motivational concepts in order to strengthen the organization for expansion and to reverse recent profit declines. The researchers used a four-step process: questionnaire completion, interviewing and observation, data analysis and interpretation, and reporting. The gathering of extensive data about the organization through the completion of the questionnaires by 96% of the employees, and individual interviews and observations of the work process with 100 employees randomly selected among those representing seven diverse criteria revealed a number of problems within the company: lack of self-respect in employees, a thwarted desire to participate in decision making, lack of feedback, lack of recognition, salary issues, lack of training, intergroup conflict, lack of formal lines of communication. It also revealed a problem within its leader: Claypool was ambivalent about his role as a paternalistic father figure in the tradition of his grandfather, the founder of Claypool, and his desire to be a competent executive concerned with the performance of the business. The researchers made a number of recommendations regarding improved practices but reached a single conclusion: “The prognosis for the organization hinges on the resolution of Robert Claypool’s ambivalence” (p. 489). Their recommended process for helping him do so entailed individual consultations to Claypool and his executive vice president, in which the former could increase his skills in delegation, learn to allow others to make decisions and encourage group problem solving, and the latter, through a “therapeutic alliance” with the consultant, could learn to ease demands on himself, provide guidance and support to his subordinates, and improve his listening skills. These researchers, two decades before executive


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coaching became popular, had discovered its concurrent individual and systemic value, and they had begun to perform the function.

The Gaight School Study The Gaight School Study (Alderfer & Brown, 1975) resulted from a 4-year research and consultation project with an exclusive preparatory school for boys. It began in 1969, at the request of the school’s headmaster, as a result of the turbulence that the school had experienced the previous academic year. Using a diagnostic process that consisted of the design and implementation of a questionnaire and extensive interviews with groups and individuals, the researchers discovered a number of factors that were affecting the quality of life at Gaight—student harassment, sarcasm as a norm, intergroup conflict, and the ineffectiveness of a group (the prefects) critical to the well-being of the school. The researchers reported their findings and their recommendations in a series of feedback meetings to all groups within the school, noting the microcosm effect of each group’s reaction. There were three recommendations: the development of a team of internal consultants to assist with the change process, training for the prefects and an examination of their role, and consultation on decision making. All recommendations were implemented. The first took the form of formal training and ongoing consultation to the members of the staff chosen to be the internal consultants; the second, a consultation to the prefects using group-level analyses and interventions; the third, an individual consultation to the headmaster. Reflecting on the latter, the researcher wrote the following: The process of the consultation was nondirective. I neither proposed the problems to be discussed nor offered solutions. I did not attempt to increase the options that were considered and tried to identify factors (often emotional) that the decision makers might have been overlooking. Our working arrangement left the decision about who to include in the sessions to the Headmaster, although we sometimes jointly discussed the possibilities. (p. 144)

One of the internal consultants reported on the consultation from the headmaster’s perspective: The headmaster is particularly enthusiastic about these sessions. He feels that the airing of tensions and conflicts in the presence of a third party made his job easier in that the energy used to suppress irritations and conflict was now released for other purposes. He firmly believes he could not have led in the initiation of co-education and term-contained courses at Gaight without these sessions and the help of Professor Alderfer. (p. 222)

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At the conclusion of the project, the researchers developed a new theory of consultation based on six propositions: (1) that it involves a joint process of inquiry by the client and the consultant; (2) that valid data from the inquiry are contingent upon the mutuality of the relationship and the degree to which boundaries, both physical and psychological, are made permeable, not only between but also within both the client and the consultant; (3) that understanding of the consequences of behavior necessitates both feelings and intellect; (4) that sustained change can occur only when (a) the client chooses to alter behavior, (b) there is a psychological acceptance of the change by all relevant groups and individuals, and (c) the new behavior pattern becomes routine; (5) that two types of interventions are required—“releasing interventions” that facilitate the expressions of suppressed emotion and “developmental interventions” that plan for change; and (6) that consultation consists of four iterative phases: entry and contract agreements, data collection and diagnosis, implementation, and evaluation. This theory of consultation to organizations, emphasizing considerable emotional, intellectual, and behavioral involvement by the client and the consultant, as well as participation by those individuals and groups most impacted by the potential change, was also clearly applicable to consulting done with individuals when viewed within the full complexity of the organizational context. The relevance to contemporary thought concerning executive coaching is unmistakable, and its influence on the theoretical foundation for this book, as becomes clear in the next chapter, invaluable.

ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY2 Alderfer, C. P., & Brown, L. D. (1975). Learning from changing: Organizational diagnosis and development. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage; Levinson, H., Molinari, J., & Spohn, A. G. (1972). Organizational diagnosis. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; Whyte, W. F., & Hamilton, E. L. (1965). Action research for management: A case report on research and action in industry. Homewood, IL: Richard D. Irwin. The three works that are not only the forerunners to what is currently considered executive coaching but also the exemplars of the utilization of qualitative methodology. They provide a wealth of information about organizational consultation and the multiple levels that are impacted whenever there is entry into any system. 2

These bibliographies are intended to provide readers with resources that will either deepen or broaden the material presented in each chapter. Several of the works listed also appear in the bibliographies of later chapters; when this is the case, the relevant content is specified.


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Kampa-Kokesch, S., & Anderson, M. Z. (2001). Executive coaching: A comprehensive review of the literature. Consulting Psychology Journal, 53(4), 205–228. The most extensive review, to date, of the psychological literature about executive coaching. Stober, D. R., & Grant, A.M. (Eds.). (2006). Evidence based coaching: Putting best practices to work for your clients. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons. A recently published book which, in addition to a wide range of coaching perspectives, contains a comprehensive bibliography of executive coaching articles published in the scholarly literature between 1955 and 2005.

CH A PT E R 3

The Conceptual Framework: A Multidimensional Perspective1

T

here are four fundamental premises that constitute the conceptual framework for the executive coaching process presented in this book. They are as follows: 1. Executive coaching, by definition, is a consultation to an individual regarding performance within an organizational role; it therefore must simultaneously consider the individual, the organization, and their continuous interaction. 2. In addition to the rational, linear thinking on which most executives and organizations pride themselves, there exist unconscious forces that play a major role in shaping behavior; therefore, discovering and acknowledging unconscious forces is an essential component of executive coaching. 3. Organizations are composed of groups, and groups are composed of individuals, all in relationship with one another. Therefore, executive coaching must examine how individual behavior (a) is embedded in organizational, group, intergroup, and interpersonal behavior and (b) influences and is influenced by intrapsychic, interpersonal, group, intergroup, and organizational forces. 4. The consultant, in entering any organization, is subject to the same forces as individuals within it; therefore, the consultant’s most crucial diagnostic tool in the executive coaching process is identifying and understanding the behaviors, thoughts, and emotions that are evoked in himself/herself. 1

An earlier version of the material in this chapter appears in: Orenstein, R. L. (2002). Executive coaching: It’s not just about the executive. The Journal of Applied Behavioral Science, 38(2), 355–374. Copyright 2000 by NTL Institute.

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In order to effectively apply these premises to the practice of executive coaching, it is imperative to understand the theoretical material on which they are based. The remainder of this chapter thus devotes itself to a discussion of the conceptual underpinnings of each of the premises.

INDIVIDUAL AND ORGANIZATION Four decades ago, Daniel Levinson (1959) revolutionized the view of organizational role. Rejecting the notion of the omnipotent, mechanistic organization with individuals as mere cogs, Levinson substituted a perspective that viewed the individual and the organization as equal contributors to the roles that individuals accept in organizational settings. Levinson’s argument is based on acknowledgement of both the requirements of the organization externally imposed on the individual (“role demands”) and the individual’s way of adapting to the organization (“personal role definition”). The latter, which Levinson saw as the “linking concept between personality and social structure” (p. 482), consists of two levels: (a) role conception, formed by the present context as well as a range of previous psychological experiences, and (b) role performance, the degree to which organizational role norms are met by the observable behavior of the individual. Levinson, in recognizing the part that personality plays in role formation, proposed that intrapsychic forces have a direct impact on role performance, viewing it as an external ego function influenced by the internal dynamics of the unconscious. Role definition is … an “ego achievement”—a reflection of the person’s capacity to resolve conflicting demands, to utilize existing opportunities and create new ones, to find some balance between stability and change, conformity and autonomy, the ideal and the feasible, in a complex environment…. [It] is influenced by the ways in which the ego carries out its “internal functions” of coping with, and attempting to synthesize, the demands of id, superego, and ego…. [One’s] ways of dealing with the stressful aspects of organizational life are influenced by the impulses, anxieties, and modes of defense that these stresses activate in him. (pp. 480–481)

But Levinson notes that the organization, in formulating its demands for the individual, also has a psychological side. An organization has “latent” as well as “manifest” structure: it has a manyfaceted emotional climate; it tends to “demand” varied forms of interpersonal allegiance, friendship, deference, intimidation, ingratiation, rivalry and the like. If characteristics such as these are considered intrinsic properties

The Conceptual Framework

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of social structure, then they must be included in the characterization of role performance. (p. 479)

Levinson thus bequeaths a model in which the performance of role is the result of conscious and unconscious forces in the individual in continuous and inextricable interaction with conscious and unconscious forces in the organization.

UNCONSCIOUS FORCES In 1900, Sigmund Freud presented his topographical model of the mind, describing its components as the unconscious, preconscious, and conscious, and forever changed the manner in which the causes of human behavior could be perceived. While classical psychoanalytic theory and practice has fallen into relative disfavor over the course of the last several decades, those who subsequently rejected the supremacy of the libido and the Oedipus complex nevertheless retained the centrality of unconscious processes, conflicts, defenses, and the transference (Westen, 1990). Freud’s original conception of the unconscious was of a repository for unacceptable ideas and feelings. He saw the conflict between the repressed feelings in the unconscious and the unacceptability of those feelings in the conscious mind to be the major source of dysfunction. Making the unconscious conscious was therefore the way in which to heal the malady. This he did through free association, dream interpretation, exploration of the resistance that inevitably arose because the conscious mind naturally defended against awareness of the repressed feelings, and exploration and interpretation of the transference—the projection onto the “blank screen” of the analyst of those emotions directly related to the repressed feelings. His direct experience with his clients caused Freud to expand and subsequently revise his original hypotheses. Drive theory introduced sex and aggression as the central organizing motives in personality. Infantile sexuality encompassed the notions of psychosexual stages and the Oedipus complex. And the structural model moved the site of psychic conflict to within the unconscious itself, describing the struggle as one that raged among three internal substructures—the id, the repository of the most primitive of sexual and aggressive emotions; the superego with its internalized images of right and wrong; and the ego, the regulatory function to keep the id under control by drawing on the contents of the superego (Fancher, 1973). Carl Jung was the first to depart, both physically and ideologically, from Freud’s psychoanalytic school. Convinced that there was a very different central organizing force in the psyche, Jung introduced the concept of individuation—the

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integration of both unconscious and conscious into a wholeness that represents the uniqueness of the individual. Jung’s conceptualization encompassed an unconscious consisting of two realms—the personal unconscious and the collective unconscious. The personal unconscious is formed by the experiences of life and contains those complexes relating to the particularly individual (of which he viewed the Oedipal complex as just one of many). Whereas the personal unconscious retains those memories that are forgotten or repressed, the collective unconscious is inborn and houses the archetypes, including the persona, the shadow, the anima, the animus, and the Self. The persona represents the mask that each individual wears as an adaptation to societal demands. The shadow is the repository of all disowned thoughts, feelings, and desires; unlike Freud’s id, however, it includes positive as well as negative impulses. The contrasexual energies, anima and animus, represent the feminine and masculine within each person. The Self is the totality of the psyche, both conscious and unconscious (Jung, 1921/1971; Singer, 1994; Whitmont, 1964). The goal of the therapeutic process, therefore, is to enhance individuation by helping the client identify and bring to consciousness the unconscious personal and archetypal material in the psyche. Unlike Freud’s blank screen, in which the emotional reaction of the therapist (countertransference) was seen as a barrier, Jung saw analysis as a dyadic process between the therapist and the client. Here, both transference and countertransference were central to the exploration of the unconscious. This view of the dyadic relationship was echoed by Henry Stack Sullivan and the interpersonal tradition that he inspired. He concluded that the psyche is shaped not by innate impulses but by interactions with significant others, and that psychological dysfunction is a manifestation of the ineffective ways of managing the anxiety produced by lack of appropriate responses from caregivers during childhood. Consequently, he conceived of the therapeutic process as an interactional field consisting of client and therapist. In this framework, the therapist acts as a “participant observer” (Sullivan, 1970) to help the client gain an awareness of self-defeating patterns in interpersonal relationships. Essential to his process were in-depth interviewing techniques to understand the experience of the client from the client’s perspective (Sullivan, 1970) and the active use of the countertransference to interpret the client’s characteristic, and inevitably emergent, interactional patterns (Mitchell & Black, 1995). The object relations tradition also stresses the importance of the environment and of interpersonal relationships. From Fairbairn’s (1952) object-seeking libido to Winnicott’s (1960) “holding” by the “good enough” mother to Kohut’s (1971) “idealized parent imago,” it is the parenting relationship—both actual and internalized—that determines the health of the psyche. As a result, the goal of the therapeutic process is to heal the wounds of inadequate parenting and to revise the internalized objects. This is accomplished by broadening the


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therapeutic relationship to include the reenactment of the original relationship and the substitution of appropriate parental responses (i.e., empathy, mirroring, setting of boundaries, etc.) for the inadequate ones that are the source of the client’s difficulties (McWilliams, 1994; Mitchell & Black, 1995). The transition from depth psychology to the interpersonal and object relations schools represented a change from a one-person to a two-person psychology (Ghent, 1989) and thus expanded the focus from the intrapsychic to include the interpersonal. This focus was further expanded to include the collective when Wilfred R. Bion introduced group-as-whole theory (1961). Bion saw group dynamics as the interplay between individual needs and group mentality and culture. The interplay, he felt, creates a fundamental unconscious conflict between the group mentality and the desires of the individual. This basic conflict is actually composed of two conflicts: the more obvious one between the individual and the group, and the less obvious one between the individual and the self as an upholder of the group. The conflicts produce intrapsychic anxieties that manifest themselves in shared unconscious fantasies (“basic assumptions”) on a group level regarding the reason that the group has formed—to obtain security (dependency), to give birth to a “savior” (pairing), to preserve itself from an outside enemy (fight/flight). Individuals in the group, through “valency,” demonstrate the extent to which they are willing to combine with the regressed group by “holding” a particular aspect of the basic assumption behavior and unconsciously accepting specific roles on behalf of the group. The work group and the individuals constituting it who come together to accomplish a particular task are thus powerfully, albeit unconsciously, influenced by the primitive regression inherent in basic assumption behavior in the group as a whole.

MULTILEVEL FORCES As Levinson indicates, organizations also have a psychological side. They are not, however, monoliths. Like all living entities, organizations must define themselves, psychologically as well as physically, through interaction with their environment. In addition, they are not simply influenced by individuals interacting with one another singly or collectively, but also by groups in constant interaction with other groups. Two theories by Clayton P. Alderfer provide further explication. In his first, the theory of underbounded and overbounded organizations, Alderfer (1980a) provides a vehicle with which to determine the relative boundary permeability of an organization and the resultant prognosis regarding the organization’s ability to survive. He describes 11 indicators of boundary permeability—goals, authority, economic conditions, role definitions,

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communication patterns, human energy, emotional state, intergroup dynamics, unconscious basic assumptions, time span, and prevailing ideology. By observing the nature of these indicators, which are often easier to recognize than the actual boundaries, it is possible to determine whether the organization is overbounded and in danger of losing the ability to interact with its environment or underbounded and subject to being submerged into its outer environment. Overbounded organizations are characterized by explicit goals and priorities, unilateral authority, lack of stress regarding economic conditions, blocked communications, constrained energy, negativity directed outside, dominance of organizational groups, unconscious dependency, long time spans, and singular ideologies. Underbounded systems reveal themselves through the existence of ambiguous goals, competing authority, economic crises, imprecise roles, unclear communication channels, diffuse energy, negativity within and without, dominance of identity groups, fight/flight reactions, short time spans, and multiple ideologies. Furthermore, because of the interdependence of an organization’s related subsystems, these indicators can also serve as a vehicle with which to formulate hypotheses regarding the state of the organization’s psychological boundaries. Embedded intergroup relations theory (Alderfer, 1986) not only recognizes the impact of groups within an organization, but also views them as central to an understanding of organizational dynamics at all levels. Alderfer describes five characteristics of intergroup relations—group boundaries (permeability), power differences (accessibility of resources), affective patterns (degree of polarization and projection), cognitive formations (development of theories and ideologies), and leadership behavior (as representative of the total pattern)—and divides groups in organizations into two categories—identity groups, those sharing a common world view (i.e., race, ethnicity, generation, family), and organizational groups, those sharing a common organizational view (i.e., task, hierarchical position). He postulates that any interaction between two individuals must be viewed as an unconscious interaction between the salient identity and/or organizational group memberships of each within the context of a particular social system. Because of this embeddedness, moreover, the relationship among individuals or groups (the subsystems) is shaped by relationships in the larger context (the suprasystem). To this phenomenon, Alderfer assigns the term “parallel process” and demonstrates how observing individuals and groups can give crucial data about dynamics at a broader level. He also demonstrates that embedded intergroup relations and the enactment of parallel processes apply equally to the researcher in interaction with the individual, group, or entire system under study. Hence, by superimposing on Levinson’s conception of role formulation the views of analytical psychology, the interpersonal and object relations schools, group-as-whole theory,


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embedded intergroup relations theory, and boundary theory, individual performance in organizations becomes a function of the interaction between the salient conscious and unconscious responses that are triggered in the individual by, respectively and collectively: internal, intrapsychic forces; interactions with other individuals; requirements as a subsystem of a group, acting on behalf of group life needs; membership in an organizational and/or identity group in interaction with representatives of the same or other organizational and/or identity groups; and requirements as an organizational member, all of which have both conscious and unconscious elements.

USE OF SELF The consultant, in entering the organization to work with the individual, thus stands at the intersection of their interaction and, concomitantly, the intersection of multilevel conscious and unconscious forces, including those that the consultant himself/herself brings as part of his/her being. For the time he/she is present, the consultant becomes part of the multidimensional system, both influencing it and being influenced by it. To do the work of executive coaching, then, the consultant must be able to tolerate, and ultimately make use of, entering a highly complex place—a place that is occupied by neither the individual nor the organization alone but, because of their convergence, both the individual and the organization together; a place that contains both the exigencies of working life and the impulses of the psyche; and a place that engages and, in turn, is engaged by the consultant’s own intrapsychic material. In addition, if the work is done effectively, it requires that the consultant be both involved enough in the dynamics so as to experience their impact and detached enough so as to analyze what is transpiring. These demands make imperative the use of oneself as tool. The concept of the use of self is pervasive in the foundational theoretical material that has been discussed thus far. The countertransference—what is being evoked in the psychologist when working with the client—is viewed as the cornerstone of the therapeutic process in analytical psychology, in interpersonal psychology, and in the object-relations school. Parallel processes—unconscious reenactment within the subsystem of suprasystem dynamics—are a key component in embedded intergroup relations theory. Whether in the language of psychodynamic theory or organizational theory, however, the message is the same: The consultant must engage in a continuous process of self-scrutiny in order to identify what is being evoked in himself/herself so as to appropriately inform his/her choices in the ongoing process.

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David N. Berg and Kenwyn K. Smith (1985) are among the researchers who view self-scrutiny as indispensable to effective work. They point out that it is only through continuous commitment to engage in self-reflection that the researcher can uncover the internal intellectual and emotional forces that impact his/her research. In addition, it is self-examination that makes possible the garnering of information about the dynamics of an individual or a social system through analysis of the countertransference or parallel processes. They also speak to the necessity for self-scrutiny to address the complexities arising from the simultaneous influences on one another of the researcher and those being studied. Cammann (1985) places the same concepts within a consulting context and discusses the need for self-knowledge to counteract the inevitable distortions caused by the consultant’s individual preferences and biases in organizational diagnosis, to differentiate between personal and systemic causes of personal reactions in gathering data by direct experience, to recognize the consequences of one’s actions in designing interventions, and to recognize projections when encountering resistance. The same principles apply to executive coaching. To work in this manner, however, places a number of demands on the consultant. It requires that the consultant bring with him/her a thorough knowledge of his/her own biases, experiences, characteristic responses, and group memberships. It requires that the consultant be willing to engage in continuous self-reflection throughout the process to determine what thoughts and emotions are being evoked and to differentiate between characteristic responses and those triggered by the current circumstances. It requires that the consultant use what is evoked in him/her to formulate and test hypotheses about the unconscious multilevel forces impacting the individual with whom he/she is working. It requires that the consultant use his/her own thoughts and emotions to inform the selection and implementation of the appropriate interventions for both the individual and the organization, maintaining a keen awareness that (a) any intervention with the individual is a simultaneous intervention with the organization, and that (b) any change in the individual must be supported by the organization, thereby implying that the organization must be prepared to ultimately support a change in itself. In this context, the consultant uses himself/herself as the tool with which to gain, through direct experience, an empathetic understanding of the following: •

•

The inner life of the individual being coached and the specific intrapsychic forces that are being triggered by other individuals, groups, intergroup relations in the organization, and organizational role demands. The characteristic interpersonal patterns of the individual being coached and of other individuals with whom the individual is in contact.


•

•

•

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The impact of and reaction to one’s own group memberships, and consequently, the nature of the organization’s embedded intergroup relations. As a result of repeated entry, the relative boundary permeability of the organization, its attendant psychological boundaries, and the nature of work life within the organization. The impact of the consultant’s ongoing interventions on both the individual and the organization.

Translating this understanding into words and actions that are meaningful to the client is what the practice of executive coaching is about. The chapters that follow demonstrate how it is accomplished.

ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY Alderfer, C. P. (1986). An intergroup perspective on group dynamics. In J. Lorsch (Ed.), Handbook of organizational behavior (pp. 190–222). Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall. The seminal article on unconscious intergroup dynamics, organizational embeddedness, and parallel processes, no consultant should venture forth without reading this article several times. (Once is not enough to capture its depth and comprehensiveness.) Berg, D. N. & Smith, K. K. (Eds.) (1985). Exploring clinical methods for social research. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. A compendium of works in the tradition of which multidimensional coaching is a part, containing several excellent chapters on the use of self as a tool. Bion, W. R. (1961). Experiences in groups. New York: Basic Books. In the category of seminal works, this is the one for unconscious intergroup dynamics. Campbell, J. (Ed.). (1971). The portable Jung (R. F. C. Hull, Trans.). New York: Penguin Books. For those understandably unnerved by the formidable undertaking of reading The Collected Works, this book is an excellent introduction. Jung, C. G. (1989). Memories, dreams, reflections (A. Jaffe, Ed., R. Winston & C. Winston, Trans.). New York: Vintage Books. (Original work published 1962) An autobiography of the icon, this book traces not only Jung’s life but also the development of his theoretical thought and his therapeutic approach. Levinson, D. J. (1959). Role, personality and social structure in the organizational setting. Journal of Abnormal & Social Psychology, 58, 170–180. Yet another seminal piece, this article was the first serious treatise on organization role and the first to consider it from a psychoanalytic perspective.

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McWilliams, N. (1994). Psychoanalytic diagnosis. New York: Guildford Press. A thorough, very readable book on character patterns from a psychodynamic perspective. Rice, A. K. (1963). The enterprise and its environment. London: Tavistock. The progenitor of all organizational psychology, this should be in every organizational consultant’s personal library. Westen, D. (1990). Psychoanalytic approaches to personality. In L. Pervin (Ed.), Handbook of personality theory and research (pp. 21–63). New York: Guilford. Excellent overview of the history of psychodynamic personality theory and practice.

PA RT I I

Multidimensional Executive Coaching: The Practice

The task of the professional is not one of fitting predesigned solutions to fixed problems but one of artful inquiry, flexible problem setting, and disciplined but creative design. —Donald R. Peterson (1997)

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The practice of executive coaching presented in this book is clearly a direct outgrowth of its conceptual framework. But it is also a reflection of the exigencies of the context in which it is applied—the workplace. There are, then, a number of points that merit highlighting before the approach is described in detail: •

•

•

•

•

•

Information gathering begins from the moment there is contact between the consultant and any representative of the organization— whether the client1 or another individual acting on his/her behalf. Entry is thereby a multidimensional process that provides valuable data about both the organization and the client. The purpose of assessment is to discover conscious and unconscious forces in organizations, groups, and individuals. It is therefore a complex and dynamic process, with analysis at all levels occurring simultaneously, and concomitant findings requiring deeper inquiry into areas covered during earlier stages. The purpose of feedback is to provide the client with insight into his/ her own behavior as well as the ways in which the multilevel forces influence the behavior. Interventions are designed for the client within the organization at a specific point in time, but continuous consideration is given to the fact that once change begins to occur, the nature of subsequent interventions must also change. Hence, coaching becomes a highly demanding process that must be based on not only assessment data but also behaviors that arise during the course of the coaching. Ongoing assessment and the need for continuous scrutiny and self-scrutiny is thus vital. Throughout the process, methods for gathering data are infused with the use of the consultant as a tool for assessment and insight. Interviewing and observation, therefore, are the primary vehicles with which to obtain information, and written surveys or standardized instruments are not an equivalent substitute. The elements demanded by the work setting—the collaborative formulation of objectives, the focus on work-related issues, the clear distinction between coaching and therapy, the use of appropriate behavioral techniques, and reliable methods for evaluating success—are fully integrated.

The process consists of three phases with definable steps within each phase. They are described in the following chapters sequentially. In practice, 1

From this point on, the individual who is the recipient of coaching is referred to as the “client.”


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however, the progression is not always linear. At every step, data gathering is used for hypothesis formulation and/or testing, which, in turn, leads to either the need for new data or the design of a specific intervention, or both. Interventions lead to the emergence of new data and hypothesis generation or testing. The process, then, is reiterative and recursive throughout.

Phase I. Entry Entry generally tells the organization’s story very well. As a working heuristic, it is useful to assume that the major dynamics are all observable at entry, if the consultant is able to perceive them. —Clayton P. Alderfer (1980)

CH A PT E R 4

Initial Contact

The first contact with the consultant initiates entry. As it is the point at which valuable information is gathered about the nature of the prospective assignment, there are a number of explicit questions to be asked and responses to be noted, including the following: • •

•

•

• •

• • •

Who is making the contact—the prospective client or someone on behalf of the client? To what organization does the client belong? In what form is the first contact made—telephone call (the most frequent), e-mail (in which case a telephone conversation must be initiated), or in person as part of some other business to be conducted? If it is not the prospective client speaking with the consultant, what is this person’s role and level in the organization? Does the client know the contact is being made? If not, who will inform the client? If so, how willing is the client to participate? What is the nature of the problem as currently perceived? What are the desired outcomes? How do they fit with the goals of the organization? Why has coaching become a priority at this time? Why has this consultant been selected? Are the consultant’s methodology and fees acceptable to the organization? What are the expected next steps? Implicit questions are equally significant at this stage—what does contact from this particular person imply about the organization, the client, or this individual? What does this person gain from resolution of the issues? What has the person’s manner been during the conversation—toward the client as well as toward the consultant? What is the consultant’s reaction to the person and the conversation? What, if anything, has been triggered internally? 41

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The answers to these questions are gleaned through the consultant’s ability to engage, even at this, the earliest of stages, the techniques of interviewing, observation, and the use of self. They provide initial information about the issue to be addressed during coaching and the manner in which the client is perceived (or perceives himself/herself). At the same time, the answers provide preliminary data regarding boundary permeability and, concomitantly, the nature of the organization’s psychological boundaries (see Chapter 3). The information provides the basis for two crucial elements. The first is the determination of whether the consultant’s expertise and methodology match the requirements of the organization, and whether the assignment should be pursued or declined at this stage. The second, if it is to be pursued, is the formulation of early working hypotheses. Three examples, all quite different, illustrate the importance of the initial contact.

THE CASE OF HOWARD One afternoon as I sat working in my office, I received a telephone call from a professional colleague. She explained that she had received a request for executive coaching from one of her clients, the human resources director of a major financial services organization. Her client was calling on behalf of a senior vice president within the organization. He had stipulated that he wanted to work with someone who not only had a knowledge of coaching but also had experience as a senior executive in financial services. Because my colleague had no one on her staff who could fulfill both those requirements, she had told her client about me. The client asked her to contact me on behalf of the organization. She then asked that I call the representative of the human resources department whom the director had designated to be the organization’s contact person. When I called the contact person, I received her voice mail, and several days passed before my call was returned. When we spoke, she was crisp and professional. She reported that the division in which the client was a senior vice president had undergone a 360-degree assessment process at the request of the new division head. The request for coaching was a result of the assessment. She also informed me that she had worked closely with the senior vice president in the past, had a great deal of respect for him, and was anxious for him to receive high-quality coaching. I described my methodology, discussed confidentiality (i.e., everything I discovered and discussed with the client would be confidential), and outlined my fee structure. All were agreeable to her. When I offered that the next step would be to meet with the client

Initial Contact

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to make certain that he was comfortable with me, she told me to proceed but requested that I send her a copy of my resume and any other pertinent materials. She explained that she wanted to review my credentials before deciding whether to proceed. I agreed to do so, and she gave me the client’s telephone number.

THE CASE OF JEANNE While away from my office, I retrieved a voice mail message from an unexpected caller—the president of a well-known nonprofit organization. He identified himself by name and title and asked that I call him. When I returned his call, he told me he was referred to me by a colleague and was interested in coaching for one of his direct reports, a vice president. “I understand executive coaching is a cross between management consulting and therapy,” he said. I responded, “That’s an interesting way of describing it, and although it can involve a certain degree of psychological insight, there are major differences between this and therapy.” He accepted that response, and I asked him to tell me more about the reasons, from his perspective, for the request. He reported that his direct report was a very talented woman with strong administrative skills who had two areas in which help was needed. First, she was having interpersonal problems as the result of a tendency to become overwhelmed, and twice had been accused of treating staff unfairly. Although he did not believe the accusations were justified, he noted that “it wouldn’t hurt if she were more loved.” Second, there was an individual on her staff with an alleged substance abuse problem, whom the vice president was unwilling to confront. He emphasized how much he relied on his direct report and summarized by saying, “This is not a remedial situation. This is a case of helping a very capable administrator become even more effective.” I asked if she had agreed to the coaching. He informed me that she was the one who had requested it. We concluded our conversation with my explanation of the steps in the coaching process. I also advised him of the confidentiality of all information and of my fees. He readily agreed, told me that his employee was expecting my call, and gave me her telephone number.

THE CASE OF RICHARD I had been consulting in an agency for over a year, so I was not alarmed when I received a call from its executive vice president. I had interviewed

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him several times; found him to be supportive and engaging; and knew the organization prided itself on being relaxed, informal, and nonhierarchical. I simply assumed he wanted to update me on some aspect of my current work. After some initial pleasantries, he said, “Ruth, I would like you to be my executive coach.” I told him I would be delighted to work with him and asked his reasons for wanting coaching. He responded instantaneously. “I have three objectives,” he said. “As you know, I took over this newly created position 2 years ago. I realize that it requires a different type of leadership than the one that was needed in my former job. I would like to become a better leader. Second, I think that the role needs to be more clearly defined. I find myself in this oddly marginalized position between my direct report and my boss. Third, I think I know what I am good at, but I want to find out others’ perceptions of what I am good at or not, to help me understand where I should take on new responsibilities and delegate others.” He was already familiar with my coaching process, fee structure, and me, so I told him that the purpose of our first meeting would be for me to learn more about him. He checked his calendar, and we arranged the appointment before concluding the telephone call.

ANALYSIS: THE CASES OF HOWARD, JEANNE, AND RICHARD1 It is evident from these excerpts that work had actually begun long before the consultant met with the identified client in each situation. Each of these conversations made it possible to obtain answers to all of the initial questions, which, in turn, provided the basis for a number of significant preliminary hypotheses. In the first case, contacting the client was preceded by at least four conversations. The prospective client, a senior executive within the organization, contacted the human resources director with specific qualifications for a coach. On the executive’s behalf, the human resources director called a consultant with whom there was an existing relationship. The consultant, on behalf of the organization, called a colleague. The latter was instructed to call a representative of the human resources department before contacting the prospective client. At the start, then, the hierarchy, bureaucracy, and protocol within the institution were apparent. It was thus 1

This and all subsequent analyses are presented in third person to both demonstrate and employ the principle of simultaneous involvement and detachment (see Chapter 3, Use of Self).

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easy to hypothesize that the prospective client, in view of his position, was someone who had successfully learned to negotiate the bureaucracy. It was also hypothesized that this was an organization with relatively impermeable boundaries and related issues of restrictive role definitions, unilateral authority, and negativity toward outsiders. As a result, despite the alignment of the consultant’s salient organizational memberships with those so precisely stipulated, entry would not be easy. Because it was also obvious that she would be scrutinized very carefully, the consultant hypothesized that those within the organization, including the client, also felt this burden of scrutiny. Ease of entry into the second institution stood in stark contrast. The president had made the call himself. He was thus communicating the importance of the work and the stature of the client. He also clearly indicated that he had some knowledge of psychology and was not squeamish about its incorporation into the work setting. Finally, the readiness with which he agreed to everything discussed made it evident that he wanted work to begin as soon as possible. Here, then, the boundaries were open, with the head of the organization doing everything in his power to ease entry. While the consultant concluded that the work there would be seen as having value, the ready acceptance led to another hypothesis—that the boundaries were too permeable and that problems, such as unclear goals, imprecise role definitions, competing authority relations, and conflicting ideologies, would pervade the organization and affect the client. Entry into the third organization was clearly not an issue, as it had previously been accomplished. The consultant already had discovered that the organization’s boundaries were highly permeable. As it was an organization that relied heavily on volunteers, part of the reason for the permeability was intentional; but in part, it was a result of a pervasive conflict aversiveness that was now ingrained in its culture. This unwillingness to confront resulted in a hesitation to take up authority, a reluctance to clearly define roles, and a heavy reliance on consultants to aid in internal communication. What was so noteworthy here was that the prospective client was acting outside the norms of the organization: He had made the call on his own authority, he had thoughtfully formulated his goals for coaching, and he was seeking assistance in a way that would help him take up his leadership in a new way. The consultant thus hypothesized that this client was preparing himself for the process of adapting the organization’s role demands to his own conception of the role. In doing so, he would not only be redefining his individual performance but also, given his stature in the agency, having a powerful impact on the behavior of the organization as a whole. It would therefore be imperative to identify the conscious and unconscious expectations that were

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being placed on him—both from the organization and from himself—and whether those expectations would help or hinder him in his desire for professional growth.

ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY Alderfer, C. P. (1980). The methodology of organizational diagnosis. Professional Psychology, 11, 459–468. An elegant exposition of the phases of organizational diagnosis, with a clear description of entry. Alderfer, C. P. (1980). Consulting to underbounded systems. In C. P. Alderfer & C. L. Cooper (Eds.), Advances in experiential social processes (Vol. 2, pp. 267– 295). New York: John Wiley & Sons. An article essential to an understanding of diagnosing the physical and psychological boundaries in an organization, it contains a table of symptoms that should be memorized by all organizational consultants.

CH A PT E R 5

Preliminary Meeting

If the contact person and the consultant agree to proceed, the next step in entry is an on-site meeting between the consultant and the prospective client in the latter’s office. The primary purpose of meeting is for each to make an informed decision about whether to work together. The consultant’s responsibility, therefore, is to accomplish the following: •

•

•

•

•

Exploring the client’s receptivity or resistance to coaching: This can be done by finding out what the client hopes to gain from coaching, whose idea it was to engage a coach, and how the client, in general, feels about the coaching process. Explaining to the client all aspects of coaching: The explanation includes the steps in the process, the nature of confidentiality, the differences between coaching and therapy, and the role of the coach. Observing the client’s behavior: The manner in which the client behaves toward the consultant and others while the consultant is present, how the consultant reacts to the client’s behavior, and whether the behavior is consistent with what has been previously described are key areas for observation. Determining the comfort level between the client and the consultant: While the personality traits of the consultant and the client are a factor in establishing a sense of openness and trust, it is the consultant’s salient organizational and identity group memberships in relation to those of the client that ultimately determine the strength of the working alliance. Experiencing organizational entry: What occurs as the consultant physically enters the organization provides valuable information about boundaries, whether there will be the right degree of permeability for the work to be done effectively, and how it feels to be a part, albeit temporarily, of the organization. It also provides data with which to refute, confirm, or modify the initial hypotheses. 47

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Excerpts from three cases—the first two a continuation from the last chapter, the third a particularly vivid illustration—provide examples of the value and power of the preliminary meeting.

THE CASE OF HOWARD (continued) For my first meeting with Howard, I entered the high-rise office building and was reminded of the many years I had spent in a similar financial services environment. I was cleared through security and given a visitor’s pass, and a telephone call was made to announce my arrival. An attractive young woman who identified herself as Joan, Howard’s assistant, came to the lobby to escort me to the elevators and to his office. She was cordial and adept at conversation. When we got to Howard’s office, a sunlit private space with tasteful furniture and a view of the river, Joan introduced me to a tall, well-dressed, middle-aged man with a pleasant expression. He invited me to sit, and Joan offered coffee before she left, closing the door behind her. Howard asked if the directions had been clear; I told him they were perfect. He then told me that he had read my resume, was very impressed with my background, and had wanted to work with someone who understood management theory and had been a line manager. I asked him if he had any questions about me before we began, and he said he did not. I then asked him why he had requested a coach. He said that he had had a 360-degree evaluation performed and could not interpret some of the results. He explained, with a sad expression, that he had been at his present company for almost 30 years and had never been in a situation like the present one. When I asked him to describe what that was, he said that he had a new manager, a woman in her early thirties from outside the division, who appeared to be very dissatisfied with his performance. I asked him how he knew that, and he showed me a copy of the 360 results and added that she was abrupt with him and critical of his work. He said that he felt it necessary to check with her on every decision he made and, as a result, was second-guessing himself and feeling paralyzed much of the time. As he handed me the report, my mind flashed back 15 years. I had been in a similar situation, and my anger and frustration with the situation felt palpable. I reminded myself to stay in the moment and not to jump to premature conclusions. When I glanced at the report, I realized that his manager’s evaluation was, in fact, quite different from those of his direct reports and his peers. In addition, her ratings were lowest in those areas that the organization deemed

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critical skills. I told Howard that I would like to have some time to review the results in detail, but that, indeed, his manager’s ratings seemed unusual when compared with others. I also told him that I felt comfortable working with him and that if he felt the same, we could “officially” begin at the next session. He agreed and we set a date to meet. He escorted me to the elevator. (I was permitted to return to the lobby on my own.) I left the building feeling relieved that I had changed careers, angry about his treatment, and determined to help him.

THE CASE OF JEANNE (continued) For my first meeting with Jeanne, I had been instructed to leave my car in a designated space near the office building. As I entered, I noticed how bright and inviting it was. People were seated in the lobby, and its own café was on the entry-level floor. I took the elevator to Jeanne’s office and found it easily. As soon as I entered, she greeted me pleasantly but with a rather clipped formality, came from around her desk to shake my hand, and inquired about my parking. Jeanne was small in stature, appeared to be in her mid-thirties, and was well dressed. She gave me a parking pass and advised me to return to my car so that I would not be towed (I learned later that building maintenance was one of her many responsibilities). When I returned, she sat beside me in one of two chairs facing her desk and looked at me expectantly. I asked her why I was there. She said there were several reasons—that she felt overwhelmed with work most of the time and needed to learn about time management, that she needed to better handle people whom she was not sure she liked or respected, and that she was having difficulty managing an issue of suspected substance abuse. I asked if she had any sense of why these areas were difficult for her. Her response was unhesitating and forthright. The substance abuse concern, which she viewed as urgent to address, was so difficult because her father was an alcoholic and the suspected substance abuser, Carl, was a close personal friend whose relationship Jeanne was “terrified” of losing. Jeanne’s reluctance was compounded by the fact that several people had been fired when she had taken on her role as vice president. Although the decisions had been the president’s, Jeanne was seen as the “hatchet person.” In one case, a letter about her had been written to an internal newsletter, accusing her of mismanagement and racism. Although it was subsequently shown to be untrue, Jeanne had been hurt and embarrassed by the incident and did not want to do anything that might cause a similar incident. I described the coaching process to Jeanne and told her that if she wanted to proceed, I would be happy to work with her. She stated that she was comfortable

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working with me and wanted to start as soon as possible. I suggested that, given the immediacy of the substance abuse issue, we not wait for the completion of feedback interviews to begin work in that area. She concurred, I discussed the confidentiality of all data, and we agreed to meet with the president for a joint goal-setting session. It was arranged for the following week. I left her office admiring her ability to be so open and trusting. I felt competent and in control with a strong sense of obligation to help her.

THE CASE OF MARY I was escorted to Mary’s office by her manager, Ann, an elegant woman in her late fifties. Ann, the executive director of the community outreach agency for which Mary was marketing director, had placed the initial call and wanted to meet with me before introducing me to Mary. During that meeting, she told me that Mary was very smart and talented but she had problems with the rest of the staff. They found Mary overbearing and demeaning, with little interest in others’ points of view. There had been relatively high turnover in the marketing department, and Ann was concerned that it was as a result of Mary’s style. In addition, as Mary had had no formal training in marketing and I had strong prior experience in the area, Ann requested that I support her in the development of a marketing plan. When I entered Mary’s office, she stood and came from around her desk to greet me. She was in her early forties and dressed in the comfortable, casual manner that appeared to be the norm for the agency. The office was small but pleasant, and there were neat piles of paper on the desk, bookshelves, and round table at which Mary and I sat. She moved aside a pile to make room for me to write. When I smiled at her, she returned the smile, but I detected a guardedness in her expression. I asked her why, from her perspective, I was there. “I’m not really sure,” she said. “I think it’s to help me create an effective marketing function within the organization.” She stopped momentarily, then added, looking carefully at my face, “And Ann is under the impression that people are afraid of me.” “What do you think about that?” I asked her, without averting my eyes. She responded that she thought that was really not true. As Mary saw it, the issue was that people did not understand her role and that they got upset because they thought she was involved in areas that were their domain. “If they understood the role of marketing, then they would recognize what I’m trying to do. The problem is that I’m very direct and to the point, and people here don’t know how to be direct.”

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We then discussed some of her frustrations in her job, her conception of her role, and her professional experience. She informed me that she had been at the agency for 20 years, starting as a secretary and working her way up through management. She believed that others attributed her rise to what they perceived as her close relationship with Ann, and she thought that might have contributed to their sense of fear and intimidation. As we talked, the guardedness I had initially observed disappeared. She was articulate and highly engaging. I told her that the coaching process, particularly the feedback interviews, would help us to understand what people were feeling and, perhaps more important here, why. I described the full coaching process to her, stressing the confidentiality of all conversations with her and others. She nodded in agreement. She brightened when I said that we could add some questions to the feedback interview, in view of her concern that people misunderstood not only her role but the entire marketing function. “What are you interested in knowing?” I asked She leaned forward in her chair and responded without hesitation. “Here are what the questions should be: What do you think the role of marketing is in the agency? What do you think your role is in marketing? What do you think Mary’s function is as director of marketing?” I took notes as she spoke. When she finished, she glanced at my pad. “You aren’t writing it down correctly. You haven’t gotten it exactly!” she exclaimed. “I don’t think I need it word for word, Mary,” I explained. “I do appreciate what you’re saying and will incorporate it into the interviews.” “Those questions should be asked exactly the way I just stated them,” she retorted, her tone commanding. For the moment, I was taken aback. I then put down my pen, looked into her eyes, and asked, “Mary, do you believe I’m a competent professional?” She seemed puzzled as she responded. “Well, yes … sure I do.” “Then why are you telling me how to do my work?” She appeared shocked by that question. “Well, you asked me what I wanted to know. I was trying to answer that question. You should have been more clear about what you wanted from me,” she charged. I took a deep breath, knowing that what I was about to do might terminate our meeting and our work. “Mary, I want to tell you what my reaction is right now. I feel incompetent and frustrated because you don’t think I grasp what you’ve been saying and you don’t think I’m capable of translating your concerns so that we can find out the appropriate information from others. You appear to want to control the interviews, and you seem angry because I’m challenging you.” I paused slightly before continuing. “Perhaps this is

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what people are talking about when they accuse you of being controlling and intimidating.” “I don’t think you’re correct,” she countered icily. “So, let’s just continue with the names of the people I think you should interview.” I knew we could go no further on the subject of her behavior at this point. I made some suggestions regarding selection of interviewees; she said she would like to think about the list and discuss it with Ann. I told her that she could contact me when the list was ready. As I prepared to leave, I was convinced that Mary had decided that she did not wish to work with me. My mind was racing as I tried to formulate the best way to tell her that she had the prerogative to make that decision while simultaneously assuring her that I was not rejecting working with her. I was also reflecting on whether I had been precipitous in confronting her behavior so early in the process. “You really blew it this time!” I thought to myself. Mary rose with me as I got up. Now her tone was tentative: “Ruth, could you please explain again why you felt that I was being controlling?” I softened immediately in response: “Mary, I think you are exceptionally bright and see solutions very quickly. In doing so, you seem to want everyone else to get to the same place just as quickly, so you tell them how. That can make people feel very belittled, and, in turn, they accuse you of making them feel incompetent and stupid.” Her eyes widened as I spoke. But his time, it was as though a light had been turned on behind them. “My god,” she said. “That is what my husband and son, in their own ways, have been saying to me for years. It never made sense. Now it finally does. Thank you, thank you so much. No one has ever made me understand before.” She extended her hand to shake mine. I took her hand in both of mine, and the warmth I expressed was genuine. “That’s my job, Mary. And you’re very, very welcome.”

ANALYSIS: THE CASES OF HOWARD, JEANNE, AND MARY In the first case, the initial hypothesis regarding overboundedness was strongly supported within the first few moments of entering the building and meeting with the client. The unequivocal physical barriers to entry were paralleled by the marked formality and decorum that appeared to be organizational norms and the reiteration of the specific credentials required of the consultant. A bureaucratic and mechanistic approach to executive development was apparent from the method in which the standardized 360-degree instrument had been administered and reported to the client. A hierarchical authority structure with blocked communication was evident from the manner in which a

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seasoned executive was rendered confused and ineffective by a difficult new reporting relationship. As the meeting progressed, several other crucial elements emerged. The client’s 360-degree results had shown a wide discrepancy between his manager’s assessment and those of his peers and subordinates. The client was a highly experienced, middle-aged, male senior manager who was having difficulty with a young, relatively inexperienced, female executive. The client was open and willing to engage in the coaching relationship with me, a female consultant close to his age and a former experienced senior manager. His situation was triggering feelings of anger and determination in me. These facts provided data for three other working hypotheses that would become central to the nature of the intervention: (1) that the client’s problem centered not on the areas of weakness identified in the 360 instrument, but on his relationship with his manager; (2) that, because the salient group memberships of gender, age, and experience were contributing to the difficulties between the client and his manager, the consultant’s group memberships could serve as a bridge in resolving the issues between them; and (3) that the consultant’s strong feelings were not only a reflection of her experience and her readiness to work with the client, but also, despite outward appearances to the contrary, of his inner state. The initial hypothesis regarding boundaries was also corroborated in the second example. Entry was completely open—both literally and figuratively. The environment was inviting, there were no physical barriers to the client’s office, and everything was in a state of readiness for the consultant’s arrival. From the first instant of meeting, the client was organized, efficient, and evidently concerned about doing “the right thing.” She was readily able to articulate her objectives; and her openness, which appeared to be contradictory to the formality of her initial behavior, was explained by her sense of urgency, by her willingness to do whatever was necessary to accomplish the goal, and, most significant, by her disclosure that she was an adult child of an alcoholic father. The latter, furthermore, was a critical piece of information in illuminating the reasons for her apparent need for control and her willingness to take on more than her share of responsibility. The meeting also established the salience of specific group memberships. The client was a 40-year-old female executive with a master’s degree from a highly regarded graduate school working in an organization with power and authority residing in white males with doctoral degrees. The consultant was a 49-year-old female with a doctorate from a respected graduate school who formerly worked in organizations with power and authority residing in white males. The client had had no female mentors or role models; the consultant was a professional coach.

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As a result of the meeting, the consultant was able to formulate three powerful working hypotheses: (1) that the client’s problematic behaviors were being triggered by an underbounded organizational system that mirrored the unbounded family of origin system; (2) that other behaviors characteristic of adult children of alcoholics, such as the denial of her personal needs and the suppression of strong emotion (Cernak & Brown, 1982), would appear later in the process; (3) that our group memberships had been responsible for the level of trust that had immediately been established and would generate a solid working alliance; and (4) that the consultant’s pronounced feelings of competence and control were a result of unconscious signals from both the client and the organization—the former because these were two traits of the utmost importance to her survival in the world, and the latter because it was required to be a part of the elite institution the consultant had just entered. In the third example, the most striking characteristic was not the boundaries of the organization but rather those of the client herself. Against the backdrop of the executive director’s welcome, the client’s defensiveness was pronounced. The client’s signal that coaching had not been her idea was overshadowed only by her reluctance to talk about the issue of her interpersonal relationships. An immediate hypothesis was thus formulated: She was either incapable of self-reflection or extremely unwilling to admit that there was any kind of problem, both of which would make the coaching process a difficult one. As the meeting progressed and the client revealed more of herself, the consultant began to formulate still another hypothesis: that she was being scapegoated by the organization because of her closeness to the director, because of her professional success, because of her ability to be confrontational in a system that could not tolerate it, or for all three reasons. It was fortunate that the very behaviors that the client was so vehemently denying were manifested so quickly. When she began to act in a manner so similar to the one described as causing a problem and concomitantly began triggering in the consultant reactions so similar to those described in others, it was the perfect opportunity to discover which hypothesis was correct. If she could not be self-reflective, then coaching was probably not for her; if she was defended, the consultant could find out to what extent; if she was being scapegoated, here was a rare opportunity for her to experience being challenging without being condemned. The intervention was, of course, a risky one. She had, however, given the consultant a number of clues that helped minimize the risk: She had talked about difficulty with others’ ignorance of marketing, had mentioned the strength of the relationship with her manager, and had expressed her frustration with others’ inability to be direct. The consultant’s experience in marketing had gained the client’s initial respect; the similarities in identity group

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memberships between the consultant and the executive director had gained the client’s initial confidence; and, as it turned out, the consultant’s straightforwardness, something the client valued in herself, gained the client’s trust and provided her with the safety she needed to look deeply into the mirror that was being held up for her. By the time the preliminary meeting was over, it was evident that she was capable of self-reflection. It was also evident that a powerful alliance had been forged. The work was well under way.

ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY Emerson, R. M., Fretz, R. I., & Shaw, L. L. (1995). Writing ethnographic fieldnotes. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. A thorough guide to systematic collection, analysis, and reporting of notes from the field by the participant-observer researcher. Kram, K. (1985). On the researcher’s group memberships. In D. N. Berg & K. K. Smith (Eds.), The self in social inquiry (pp. 247–265). Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Self-reflective study of the impact of the consultant’s group memberships. Whyte, W. F., & Whyte, K. K. (1984). Learning from the field: A guide from experience. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. The classic work in qualitative methodology for field research, including indepth treatment of interviewing, observation, and the analysis of data.

CH A PT E R 6

Joint Goal Setting

The relationship between the client and the client’s supervising manager is the single most influential relationship in the client’s work life. It is therefore essential that the client’s manager be engaged in the client’s process of change. The goal-setting meeting is the formal venue for that to occur. The explicit purpose of the joint goal-setting meeting is for the client, his/her supervising manager, and the consultant to agree on what should be accomplished. It is the opportunity to define the expected outcomes of coaching so that the limits of the assignment and a realistic time frame can be established. In addition, it provides an opportunity to request ongoing feedback and reinforcement from the manager. As in other steps in the process, there is also an implicit purpose. By carefully observing the interactions in the room, the consultant is able to glean a wealth of information about not only the client but also about the manager, the nature of the managerial relationship, and fundamental characteristics of the organization as a whole—all of which, both individually and collectively, have a direct impact on the client’s current and future behavior. The consultant should be looking for answers to the following questions about the client, the client’s manager, their relationship, and the organization:

THE CLIENT •

How does the client behave toward the manager? Is his/her behavior deferential or adversarial, passive or active, comfortable or anxious, warm or aloof? Is this behavior noticeably different from the client’s behavior in the presence of the consultant alone? Does the client express his/her views, whether different or the same as the manager’s? 57

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•

•

How does the client interact with the consultant in this setting? Is it different from previous meetings? Is he/she dismissive, respectful, controlling, collegial? Does the client take ownership for the meeting and the coaching process?

THE MANAGER • •

•

How does the manager behave toward the client? Is he/she autocratic or egalitarian, formal or relaxed, dismissive or supportive? Is the manager committed to the development of the client? Is she/he aware of the client’s developmental needs? Has he/she been thoughtful about the coaching goals? Is he/she willing to be a source of feedback and reinforcement for the client? How does the manager interact with the consultant? Is he/she inclusive or exclusive, deferential or authoritative? Does he/she seek validation from the consultant?

THE RELATIONSHIP •

•

•

•

What is the nature of authority relations between the client and the manager? Is their behavior toward one another a result of the way the client deals with authority or a result of the way in which the manager takes up authority? What is the nature of communication between the two? Is there evidence that they communicate frequently or intermittently? Have they discussed performance and development previously, or does this appear to be the first conversation on the topic? Do they hear one another? Do they invite one another to comment on what has been said? Do they say to one another what they have said privately to the consultant? What are their organizational and identity groups? Does organizational hierarchy, gender, race, age, or ethnicity appear to have an impact on the relationship between the client and the manager? Does this resemble the relationship that has been previously described by the client and/or the manager? Is it different because the description was inaccurate or because the consultant is present?

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THE ORGANIZATION •

•

Using the concept of parallel processes applied to all of the above, what can be hypothesized about the nature of authority, communication patterns, role definitions, intergroup dynamics, and unconscious basic assumptions in the organization as a whole? How does this data confirm or refute earlier hypotheses? What new hypotheses are formulated?

The two cases we continued to follow from the beginning of entry are vivid illustrations of the value of this step in the coaching process.

THE CASE OF HOWARD (continued) Howard had arranged for us to meet in a small conference room near his office. Janet, his manager, came in and introduced herself. She sat down and looked at me questioningly. I turned and looked at Howard. He told Janet that it would be helpful to him in establishing coaching goals to have some clarification in several areas of his assessment. Her reaction was immediate and direct: She stated emphatically that he was the logical successor for her job and that she was interested in grooming him for that role. As a result, those things that she had seen as weaknesses related specifically to the areas that were required for the more senior role. She enumerated skills that she felt would help him in the eyes of senior management—learning to “market himself,” being more willing to “take a chance,” and learning how to be more individually decisive rather than “too cooperative.” She also talked about his tendency to protect and insulate his people rather than “branching out” beyond his own departmental priorities. Finally, she discussed what she perceived as his need to communicate better. She concluded by stating that she was building “bench strength,” and therefore he had to develop his own bench strength so that he could move up in the organization. Because Howard was speechless when Janet finished speaking, she turned to me and asked if I had anything else to discuss. I indicated I did not and turned to Howard. He told her that he was surprised and gratified to learn of her hope that he would succeed her and thanked her for her candor. After Janet left, I asked Howard how he felt about what had happened. He confirmed the fact that he had been shocked by her desire to groom him. I asked him if he still felt that she was trying to undermine him. He said he did not. I then told him that the 360-degree results indicated that he was

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managing downward quite skillfully, but that it appeared that he had not learned the art of managing upward. Janet’s perceptions about his management skills were based on the way he was interacting with her. He agreed. We then discussed whether the skills she had identified as necessary for upward mobility were compatible with his values (i.e., whether what were articulated as corporate values were in alignment with his own). He stated that, while there were things he did not wish to change about himself, such as his desire to protect his staff or his ability to be collaborative, he was willing to develop more skill in the areas she had mentioned. We decided that the first priority area would be developing his ability to effectively communicate with his manager. We would work on that concurrently with conducting the qualitative feedback interviews. As I left the building, I thought about my own reactions. I was surprised and relieved. This time, I knew I was reflecting what Howard was feeling.

THE CASE OF JEANNE (continued) We had agreed that we would meet in the president’s office for the goal-setting meeting. When I arrived, the president’s secretary, Gail, greeted me graciously. It was the first time I was meeting him, and he came out of his office to welcome me and invite me into his office. He appeared to be in his late fifties. “Please call me Bob,” he said as we sat at the conference table. He said that he had something to tell me before Jeanne came in. He looked at me sadly and began: “I think I have made matters much worse for Jeanne.” He paused for a moment and then told me that there had been an opening for an executive assistant position. Upon seeing the job description, Gail had proposed a different structure in which her own position would be elevated. He had disliked the proposal but, before rejecting it, had passed it on to Jeanne for her input. “I really value her opinion,” he stated. As requested, she had responded in writing and had been very critical of Gail’s skills. “Now here’s where I really messed up. I accidentally left the response on my desk in plain view—and Gail comes in to organize my desk two or three times a day. She saw the letter and now refuses to speak with Jeanne.” I was stunned by Bob’s disclosure. His action, even if unintentional, was undermining the very thing that he had expressed as the most important objective for Jeanne’s coaching—improved relationships with staff. In addition, I was uncomfortable with the manner in which he informed me of it. It had a marked confessional tone, and, knowing that Jeanne was about to join us, he was deliberately excluding her. I knew this required much deeper discussion, but before I could speak, there was a knock at the door.

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“That must be Jeanne,” Bob said. “Come right in,” he called. When Jeanne joined us at the conference table, they both looked at me expectantly. I summarized the purpose of the meeting—to make certain that we all agreed on the goals for coaching—and then intentionally stopped speaking. Bob spoke first, repeating what he had told me in our first telephone conversation—that Jeanne needed to improve her interpersonal relationships and that it was imperative that she confront the substance abuse issue. He also emphasized the desirability of her learning to control her tendency to become overwhelmed. Despite Jeanne’s presence at the conference table, he spoke about her in the third person. At the conclusion of his comments, however, he turned to her, smiled warmly, and said in a tone that was more parental than supervisory, “Jeanne, you have to learn to say no, even to me.” Jeanne nodded her agreement but remained respectfully silent. Throughout the meeting, I had been waiting for the subject of Gail and the document to come up. It did not. Because I did not know if Jeanne knew about it, I did not raise it directly. I intended to subtly encourage Bob to do so. Before I could do that, Bob stood, announced that he had to rush off to another site, and left the room. After his abrupt departure, I asked Jeanne if she was comfortable with what had been discussed. She stated that she was. She then gave me a typed list of the interviewees she had selected, and we scheduled our next meeting. I left the building with a sense of confusion and a disturbing distrust of Bob.

ANALYSIS: THE CASES OF HOWARD AND JEANNE In these two cases, the previously described relationships between the clients and their managers could not have stood in more contradistinction to one another. Yet, the cases were startlingly alike in that each relationship was almost the opposite of what it first appeared to be. By examining each relationship, moreover, the complexities of the unconscious forces in both cases continued to reveal themselves. In the first case, it was evident at the outset that the manager was in charge—and that the client was not. The manager’s expectation that the consultant would begin the meeting—and the client’s need to be prompted—was an immediate indicator of the authority dynamics in the room. In addition, the manager’s directness, almost to the point of bluntness, disclosed three essential pieces of information. First, the lack of framing or softening demonstrated that she had given little thought to how her comments would affect the client. Second, the manager’s strongly favorable position regarding the client

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had not been discussed previously. The lack of open communication between the manager and the client was therefore quite visible. Third, prevailing organizational dynamics in relation to age and gender were completely reversed in this relationship (i.e., the younger white female, rather than the older white male, was in the dominant role both organizationally and behaviorally). As a result, a number of previous hypotheses were corroborated. First, there was, indeed, a need for the client to work on the relationship with his manager, and it was one that centered on improved communication. By his taking the initiative in this area, furthermore, he would be demonstrating some of the very skills that his manager perceived were required for further advancement. Second, the consultant’s group memberships had been a factor in the meeting. Interestingly, what was most salient here was not age or gender, as initially expected, but professional expertise. The manager had initially deferred to the consultant as the expert and had been willing, on two occasions, to be directed, however subtly, to the client. Third, it was increasingly clear that this was a highly overbounded organization. The authority dynamics were hierarchical—so hierarchical, in fact, that they could supersede age and gender dynamics. This, as well as what emerged as the consultant’s salient membership in this setting, indicated the predominance of organizational rather than identity groups. Communication was obviously blocked. Furthermore, the reluctance by the client, a seasoned senior executive, to take the lead not only in the meeting but also in the relationship with his manager indicated an underlying basic assumption of dependency that certainly had to be identified and overcome if he was to progress. The client demonstrated the determination to overcome the dependency not only by his willingness to take on the responsibility for the relationship with his manager, but also by identifying those aspects of his behavior that he was unwilling to change. The prognosis for a successful coaching outcome was therefore a positive one. In the second case, the manager had given every indication of being extraordinarily supportive of the client and her desire to change. Yet, his actions in this meeting seemed to contradict the initial data. Whether consciously or unconsciously, he was repeatedly sabotaging the client. His blunder with the document was the clearest example, but there were others: the covert conversation with the consultant, the transparent desire to gain the consultant’s sympathy, domination of the conversation, and the tight control of the content and time boundaries of the meeting. All of these things served to silence and disempower the client. And it was curious that the client seemed to be so willing a partner in this interaction. In the initial meeting, she was honest, forthright, open, articulate and very self-possessed, both personally and professionally. She had initiated

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the request for coaching; in this setting, she took no ownership for the process or the goals. If she had any notion whatsoever that the incident with the manager’s assistant had occurred, she gave no hint of it. The only indication of what she might be feeling was the consultant’s internal reactions. There were thus two questions that required answers if coaching were to be effective: (1) How did it serve the manager for the client to maintain difficult relationships with others? and (2) Why was the client colluding with the manager by accepting his behavior and thereby perpetuating the dynamic? The data to answer the first question had actually begun to reveal itself during the preliminary meeting with the client. She had described being placed in the role of “hatchet person,” left with the burden of dealing with the resulting anger and ill will. The document incident was therefore not an isolated event but a replica of the first situation. Furthermore, the manager’s eagerness to disclose his so-called mistake to the consultant was not in the spirit of raising important information on behalf of the client or of preparing for its inclusion in the ensuing meeting, but rather of absolution for himself. All of these actions, taken together, signaled a discernible abrogation of managerial responsibility. These data led to the formulation of a new hypothesis: The manager wanted to be perceived as the “good object,” the “nice guy,” and therefore required someone (i.e., the client) to continue to be the “bad object,” the scapegoat on which the disowned aspects of his personality could be projected. The parental nature of the client-manager relationship was at the core of the answer to the second question. During the three-way meeting, the manager had acted like a tolerant, loving, and all-knowing father, and the client had behaved like a respectful, obedient child. Additionally, identity group memberships, including the consultant’s, strengthened the image: The manager was a white male in his fifties in a position of authority, the client was a white female in her thirties in a subordinate position, and the consultant was a white female in her late forties in a position of accepted expertise. In the room, then, were all the ingredients for unconscious family-of-origin dynamics. This was compelling information with which to support the previous hypothesis: that the underbounded system in which the client was working mirrored her experiences as the adult child of an alcoholic and that she would exhibit characteristic responses. In fact, it was not only the system but also the relationship with her manager that evoked her family of origin and, in turn, triggered her defense mechanisms—to suppress her own needs, to keep issues unspoken, and to enable the dysfunctional behavior of others, even at her own expense. A most critical aspect of coaching, then, would be to raise to consciousness how these unconscious forces were impacting her in the workplace and, concomitantly, to support her as she readied herself to reject the role of scapegoat.

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ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY Mitchell, S. A., & Black, M. J. (1995). Freud and beyond. New York: Basic Books. An overview of contemporary psychoanalytic thought with informative summaries of, among others, Sullivan, the Object Relations School, Kohut, and Kernberg. Whyte, W. F., & Whyte, K. K. (1984). Learning from the field: A guide from experience. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. An in-depth discussion of applicable observational methods appears in Chapter 5. Woititz, J. G. (2002). The complete ACOA sourcebook: Adult children of alcoholics at home, at work and in love. Deerfield Beach, FL: Health Communications, Inc. Written for a lay audience, it provides highly readable descriptions of the most common characteristics of adult children of alcoholics.

CH A PT E R 7


The final stage in entry, written contracting, has two components. First, based on the preliminary goals articulated in the initial meeting, the coaching plan is prepared and submitted to the client for his/her approval. The plan includes the steps in the coaching process, the number of hours for each step, and the total hours. Once the client approves the plan, a formal letter of agreement (see Appendix A) is prepared and submitted to the authorized individual. The agreement includes the coaching plan (see Appendix B), preapproved by the client, and confirms the total number of hours, consulting fees, billing arrangements, and confidentiality requirements. Once the letter is signed and returned, entry is complete. The client’s approval of the plan reinforces his/her ownership of the coaching process, and the contract documents verbal agreements made throughout entry. It formalizes expectations regarding time boundaries, financial boundaries, and confidentiality boundaries. What occurs from the time the plan is submitted until the signed contract is returned to the consultant reveals additional information about the client and the client’s organization. Delays in receiving the plan from the client and the contract from the authorized individual, and the extent to which contractual items are reviewed and questioned, can signal degrees of individual and organizational support or resistance as well as symptoms of unhealthy boundary permeability. This data assists in the further validation or refutation of early hypotheses. Just as important, it can be the final factor in determining the viability of accepting or rejecting a consulting project. The contrast in the two ongoing cases provides a clear illustration of the final step in entry.

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THE CASE OF HOWARD (continued) I sent Howard the preliminary coaching plan the day after meeting with his manager. As soon as he received it, he telephoned to tell me that he approved it. I prepared the letter of agreement; in this case, it was to be sent to the human resource representative with whom I had previously spoken. When I did not receive the signed copy after 2 weeks, I called her. She informed me that she had not returned it to me because it did not stipulate specific coaching objectives. I described the process to her once again, drawing her attention to the coaching plan, and told her that objectives setting was a critical outgrowth of the feedback that the client would receive. She insisted that the client’s manager, whose budget would be charged for the work, had to be in agreement with the objectives before proceeding. I reminded her that Howard and I had met with his manager and we were all in agreement on the goals. The representative countered with, “I know this is all very confidential, but we really do have to know what we are paying for.” Realizing that I could not convince her to change her procedure, I told her that I would speak with Howard, and, if he approved, I would resubmit the contract with his preliminary objectives. When I called Howard, he reiterated his eagerness to begin our work; we thus jointly developed preliminary objectives. I resubmitted the contract with two changes—the inclusion of the objectives and a detailed statement about confidentiality at each point in the coaching process. It was signed and returned to me shortly thereafter.

THE CASE OF JEANNE (continued) Jeanne approved the plan immediately, and I sent the letter of agreement to Bob. He called the day he received it to advise me that he had just signed it, was sending it to me, and urged me to proceed without delay.

ANALYSIS: THE CASES OF HOWARD AND JEANNE In the first case, the contract was the final organizational barrier to entry, and it served to inform the consultant that there was a protocol that would be rigidly followed. It was also a reminder that the consultant was an outsider, not to be trusted easily, and that the gatekeeper was there to protect the organization from such intruders. The fact that it also delayed a process that the client was willing and eager to start did not seem to be a consideration for the organization.


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In the second case, the contract was treated perfunctorily—as merely the written confirmation of previous understandings. From the organization’s perspective, entry had been accomplished during the initial telephone call, and the consultant was already engaged in the work. Thus, the initial hypotheses about the nature of boundaries in the respective organizations were confirmed. The contract was a vehicle for final corroboration. It also served another critical purpose: It was the first formal systemic intervention in each organization. In the first case, the contract increased the permeability of organizational boundaries—at least enough to allow entry to occur at all. At the same time, it decreased the permeability of the coaching boundaries—stipulating that further attempts to breach confidentiality would negate the contract. In the second case, the contract established boundaries in an organization that appeared to have few in place. Both interventions were essential for effective work if the clients were, respectively, to risk challenging the rigid hierarchical structure and to define the limits of role and responsibility. As we move into the next phase of coaching, we leave behind our now familiar cases and turn to others that more vividly illustrate the impact of the next steps in the process. We will, however, revisit several in later chapters.

Phase II. Facilitating Change Real participation occurs only when there has been a mutual exploration that satisfies all parties involved as to the goals, competence, purposes and capacities of the people involved. —David N. Berg and Kenwyn K. Smith (1985)

CH A PT E R 8

Assessment

Formal assessment is the linchpin in the executive coaching process. It is that step in which theory, method, and data converge in a carefully planned methodology that focuses on both the client’s behavior and the multidimensional forces impacting that behavior, given the client’s unique background and experience. Information is therefore gathered from multiple points of view: what the client reports about himself/herself; what those interacting with the client report; what the consultant observes when the client interacts with others, individually and in groups; and what the consultant observes when personally interacting with the client, relevant others, and the organization. The qualitative research methods of unstructured and semistructured interviewing and unstructured and structured observation are employed in four different venues: the psychodynamic interview, 360-degree interviews, live-action observations, and the consultant’s use of self. The data is aggregated and analyzed (and subsequently explicated to the client) from organizational, intergroup, group, interpersonal, and individual perspectives.

THE PSYCHODYNAMIC INTERVIEW One of the most powerful ways in which the consultant can gather data about the client is through an unstructured, psychodynamic interview (Shea, 1988; Sullivan, 1970)—unstructured in order to learn about the client from his/ her experience; psychodynamic in order to glean relevant information about influential life events, including family-of-origin dynamics. Using nondirective interviewing techniques (Whyte,1984), the consultant encourages the client to share whatever he/she is willing to divulge about his/her life. Significant details include data about parents, siblings, spouse, children, place of birth and 71

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formative years, school and work experiences, age, and life stage. Depending on the readiness of the client, the material can be elicited in several ways: 1. Direct format (directly requesting the client to share the information): For example, “In order for us to work together, it would be helpful for me to know as much about your life as possible. Please tell me about yourself.” 2. Indirect format (using a related question): For example, “As you think back on your life, what would you say were the strongest influences on your management style?” 3. Redirected format (exploring material that emerges during discussions with the client): For example, “Do you remember the very first time you felt that way? Have there been other times in your life when you have felt that way?” While conducting the psychodynamic interview, the consultant is able to observe the comfort levels of both the client and himself/herself. These can be critical indicators of the strength of the alliance that is forming between the consultant and the client. They can also be indicators of the client’s level of motivation, characteristic interactional patterns, and/or typical defense mechanisms.

THE 360-DEGREE INTERVIEWS Data from those who interact with the client are gathered through semistructured interviews in order to understand not only what relevant others perceive but also, and perhaps more important, how they formed those perceptions. To ensure reliability of data, interviews are conducted with a minimum of 12 individuals, including direct reports, the person to whom the client reports, peers, clients, colleagues, and others selected by the client for their range of perspectives (i.e., some whom the client knows have positive views, others who are more critical of the client). The client prepares the list and sends it, with contact information, to the consultant, simultaneously contacting each individual to explain the process and request participation. The consultant then telephones the individuals to schedule a face-to-face interview. During the call, information is readily available about how well the client has prepared the individual and how comfortable the latter is with participating in the process. This information is an indication of the communication skills of the client, the degree of responsibility the client is taking for the process, and the relationship between the client and the respondent.

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A protocol with questions about basic management and leadership skills, as well as any areas targeted by the client for inquiry, is prepared for the interviews (see Appendix C). The protocol is composed of open-ended questions to encourage optimal fluidity from the respondents. To reduce resistance, the order of questions is from minimal levels of threatening disclosure (e.g., “How long have you known [the client]?”) to maximum levels (e.g., “If you were making the decision to fill [the client’s] position, would you hire him/her, knowing what you now know, and why?”). When the consultant meets with the respondents, the coaching process and its purpose are reviewed, confidentiality is guaranteed, and any questions or concerns are addressed. Under the best of conditions, the interviews are also a venue for respondents to channel previously unexpressed emotion regarding the client (or the organization) and for the consultant to enlist the respondent’s support for the changes the client wishes to make. They thus become the second way in which the consultant formally intervenes with the organization to prepare the system for the ensuing change that will occur.

OBSERVATION Observation of the client in interaction with others provides still more data. Whether unstructured to allow data to emerge, or structured to document the frequency of specific data, observations of one-on-one and group meetings with senior managers, peers, and direct reports, provide a panoramic view of the client’s behavior. Taken together, these observations can corroborate or challenge other data that have been gathered. The observations also allow the consultant to view the influence of each of the groups on the client’s behaviors and the roles that he/she takes up—either consciously or unconsciously—in each setting.

USE OF SELF The interactions between the client and the consultant provide another valuable means with which to observe behavior and its impact. Inevitably, the client will demonstrate interpersonal behaviors that consistently have been reported or observed. Inexorably, characteristic patterns will provide valuable insight into the client’s inner world and/or the feelings that the client engenders in others. During the assessment phase, the client’s resistance and underlying defense mechanisms often become manifest, particularly during the psychodynamic interview. Throughout assessment, the consultant

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repeatedly and systematically reenters the organization, interacting with, and observing, all of the individuals and groups with whom the client works most closely. Experiential data, therefore, can be as robust as the reported data about not only the client but also systemic, intergroup, group, and interpersonal forces. The consultant is well advised to carefully reflect on his/her own emotions and reactions and their probable causes while preparing for, and conducting, all facets of assessment. The following cases illustrate the power of assessment and its crucial place in the coaching process.

THE CASE OF JIM In the first few moments of meeting Jim, I knew I was going to enjoy working with him. His intelligence and sense of humor were immediately evident. After brief introductions, he smiled and said, “I read your article, and you are going to love hearing my story!” That was a clear cue to begin. “Why is that?” I asked. With that single question, he began to describe his work history, explaining that for the last 17 years he had been working for his present organization, a multinational manufacturing conglomerate, in increasingly more responsible positions in finance. He described his current position, which he had assumed four years earlier, as “Armageddon” because of the traumatic downsizing process with which he had been engaged and the effect it had had on him and those working for him. The turbulence was exacerbated by his manager, the CFO, who greatly depended on him but who was universally perceived as erratic, demanding and difficult (“mean and crazy” according to comments on a recent 360-degree evaluation). “I know how to get along with difficult people,” he said and paused. I looked at him questioningly, and, with a sad smile he explained, “This is where it really gets good!” and launched into his personal story. Jim had gown up in the outlying area of a major northeastern metropolis, the eldest of six children of a schizophrenic father and an alcoholic mother. “My refuge was sports and overresponsibility. I was at an eighth-grade reading level in first grade, but all my energies went into sports. I had a relative who had played for the NFL, and that was a ‘big deal’ in our family. I was devastated when I was cut from the seventh-grade football team, so I was determined to become the best football player in the school, even though I was small. By the time I was a sophomore, I was on Varsity football and was co-captain of three different sports teams. One of my coaches was a very important influence; he was supportive and charismatic, and defended me when my father, a janitor at the school I attended, got mean and bullied me in the halls. I worked hard

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in high school and achieved through perseverance, practice, and intensity. I was the first in my family to go to college and selected a school based purely on where I could play football. In the second week of practice, I broke my arm in six places and then made a startling discovery: I loved school; I loved to learn; I loved to study. I transferred to a more academically oriented college, and I became an RA so I could have my own room. I met my wife there, we got married as soon as we graduated 23 years ago, and we have three children. I am the ‘provider’ and have lots of success here. We live in a great place to raise children, they walk to school and are all good students. I broke the family pattern of a long line of policemen and firemen living in urban, blue-collar neighborhoods. My football star cousin is now a Marine colonel. As for sports, I now run marathons.” He then transitioned back to his job. He described the organization as a highly political one in which people were considered disposable and the stakes were very high: “Like playing in the NFL without pads,” he offered. One of his concerns was the perception of how closely tied he was to the CFO; his other concerns revolved around perceptions of him personally (“I took the FIRO-B and it showed I have the affiliation needs of a rock”), particularly in this environment in which people were still mourning the loss of colleagues and exhausted from the pace of the work over the course of the previous year. The interview process brought into sharp focus the environment in which Jim was working and his assessment of others’ perceptions of him. The organization was described as “cut-throat,” his division as “hatchet people,” and the CFO as “reactive and crisis-oriented.” There was wide agreement that he was expected to take up multiple roles requiring different, and sometimes mutually exclusive, skill sets, making it almost impossible to do his job well. This made the often contradictory information more understandable: Most identified numerous strengths, which included strategic vision, executional excellence, strong leadership skills, intelligence, and a strong sense of humor. Many also saw him as confident, empowering, motivational, empathetic, and responsive. On the other hand, he was perceived as fearful of mistakes, overly critical, inaccessible, detached, and impatient. The phrase “Good Jim/Bad Jim” characterized a prevalent view of him as unpredictable, inconsistent, and moody. My own reactions to him remained highly positive throughout the assessment phase. While I was readily able to observe the focus and the intensity, I did not experience the inconsistency and moodiness. I concluded that either he was screening this behavior from me or I was perceiving it differently from the other with whom I had spoken, and that additional data would emerge in later stages.

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THE CASE OF STEVEN On the same day as my first meeting with Steven, the 49-year-old COO of a large nonprofit human services organization, I returned to my office and found an e-mail with the names he had selected for the feedback interviews. There were 27 people listed. As I reflected upon our meeting earlier in the day, I was not surprised by the length of the list nor the speed with which it had been generated. During our discussion, he had informed me that he was seeking coaching because he had been “fired” from his position as director of the service center that he had managed for the last six years, a job that he had performed concurrently with his work as COO. The “demotion,” as he had described it, was a result of what the agency’s new CEO described as his “nonparticipatory management style” and his flaws: perfectionism, abruptness, and impatience. “I just don’t have time for kidding around, and I don’t have a high tolerance for people who ignore simple rules and regulations. My job is to make things run and to problem solve, not to baby-sit a group of professionals who should know better.” He had then efficiently and dispassionately enumerated six objectives for coaching: to improve his “people skills” so that he could be a more effective manager; to manage his life better; to enjoy work life more; to exit appropriately from the directorship; to set appropriate goals with people; and to learn anything else that benefited him. He emphasized that he was willing to cooperate in any way, including having me speak with his therapist at any time that might be helpful. It was 6:30 p.m., so I called Steven expecting to leave a voicemail message. He answered his phone. I told him I had received the e-mail and suggested that he consider reducing the number of people on the interview list. Steven’s response was abrupt and accusatory: “But you told me to give you the names of people who know me well!” I was startled by his tone but recovered quickly and said firmly, “Yes, and I appreciate your thoroughness, but I believe it would be in everyone’s best interest to reduce the number to under twenty.” I agreed to meet with him to help him revise the list and planned to do the psychodynamic interview at that time. We spent about a half-hour on the list. As I prepared to transition to the interview, Steven said he wanted me to know that the next day he intended to tell people at work that he was divorcing his wife. When I asked him how he felt about the divorce, he told me that it was particularly difficult because they had been life-long friends. I asked him if he was discussing the divorce with his therapist. He said he was. I told him that I thought this would be an appropriate time for me to contact her. He readily agreed.

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As I was leaving, Steven asked if I had a few moments to view a video that had been created about the service center he was leaving. “I cry every time I see it,” he said. As I watched the video, I was aware of how passionate Steven was about the topic, how proud he was of the content, and how meaningful it was to him that I see it. I was unprepared for this unvarnished demonstration of vulnerability. When I told him how moved and impressed I was, he assumed my words referred to the video; they, in fact, were how I was feeling about this aspect of his character. I had intended to speak with his therapist solely about the advisability of sharing with him what could be painful feedback at this difficult time in his life. Before I had a chance to pose that question, she informed me that Steven had asked her to provide me with any information that was, in her opinion, valuable for me to know. She informed me that Steven grew up in a family in which he was emotionally neglected. His father had been ill from the time of Steven’s birth and his mother had spent all of her energy tending to her husband. His only positive reinforcement came from school, and so he thrust himself into his studies, chose a human services career, and was highly successful. He had started working at his current organization as an intern in college and had never left, becoming the trusted protégé of the previous CEO and achieving increasing levels of authority throughout the years. His recent reduction in responsibilities had been devastating. She also said that Steven’s emotional life was a source of great frustration to him—he desperately wanted to get close but did not know how. He was aware of emotions but could not name them. His tendency was to sexualize intimacy, although he had a number of very close women friends and often behaved in compassionate, thoughtful ways toward them. He was happiest when engaged in a project with people he loved. Finally, she reported that his perfectionism and compulsiveness were ways in which to achieve some sense of control, particularly in view of the current events in his life—the dissolution of his marriage, the loss of the directorship, and his age. When she finished, I asked her whether she considered him too fragile for the feedback. She assured me that it would not be dangerous to proceed. The therapist’s description greatly aided my understanding of what was emerging from the interviews. There was unanimous admiration for his planning and organizational skills but great disparity in other areas, particularly interpersonal skills. It was apparent that people either adored him (several women cried with compassion for him during their interviews) or detested him, each group respectively citing vivid examples of his capacity for kindness, support, and selflessness, or his propensity for intimidation, deprecation, and dismissiveness.

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THE CASE OF JACK I began the second meeting with Jack by asking him how many people were in his division. “I am responsible for 5,000 people, four geographic regions, and thousands of buildings,” he responded. “That is quite a management challenge,” I commented. “What have been the strongest influences on your management style?” He responded immediately by explaining that although he had been career military, he had worked with civilians. The usual “top down” approach, therefore, had to be replaced with “morale building.” He then reported that he had never intended to pursue a military career—his interest had been architecture, and in order to pursue his studies he received a deferment for 6.5 years. When he was drafted, however, he had only intended to serve for 3 years. He had wanted to teach at the college level, but he began to think of himself as the “Frank Lloyd Wright” of the military. He went to officer candidate school, discovered that he enjoyed his work, met his wife while he was serving, and she liked the military life, as well. He stayed for 20 years. At the end of that time, he was ready for a second career, and he accepted his current position as director of facilities for a geographically dispersed government agency. I asked him where he had grown up. “Michigan,” he said, and then paused briefly. He continued by telling me about his father, who, after serving in WWI, had gone back to school for a Ph.D. in agricultural economics. He had taught in the Lansing Public Schools. Jack had grown up next to the University of Michigan and had developed a reverence for education. When I asked if he had any siblings, he said that he had had an older brother who had died of blood poisoning. “I replaced him,” he added. Jack then said that when he was 10 years old, he developed blood poisoning in his knee and had to go to the hospital. He reminisced about how much “fun” it had been for him at the hospital with the other children, but remarked how much it must have frightened his mother. He listed the names and birth years of his older brothers and ended with his own birth year. He was 63 years old. He paused for a moment and said, “I was a poor kid and I never knew it—except at Christmas. Then I noticed it the most because my uncle on my mother’s side was a shop owner and he would buy his children so many toys. We would go over there and I always had fun playing with their games.” He next spoke of how being a student counselor in college had been of great assistance to him in learning how to manage people. “I learned to let people talk, to let them solve their own problems.” His mother had been a home economics teacher and was active in the PTA. She took him to museums and instilled the value of education. He had a scholarship for college; the “flunk out” rate was 50%. In his last 2 years, he studied

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architectural engineering, and he had been thrilled when he was asked to stay to do graduate work and to teach. He expressed disappointment that he never returned to teaching despite the fact that he never had a “bad duty station” in the military. His favorite, he said, had been Japan where he was stationed for 5 years. His two oldest children had gone to international school there. He then talked about his wife. He described her as a very social person to whom he owed his own social graces. He expressed great sadness that she had chosen not to come east with him when he had accepted his current job. “There had been no infidelity, no spouse abuse; we just didn’t communicate. We never resolved our hurts. Too bad,” he said sadly. Jack’s willing transparency underscored his desire, as he had explained in our first meeting, to fully engage in executive coaching as a role model for his direct reports so that they would be willing to do executive coaching, themselves. Yet, his openness seemed anomalous to the experience he had described with his wife. It also appeared to be anomalous to the vehemence— and palpable fear—expressed by many of those interviewed. One of his direct reports agreed to meet with me but refused to be interviewed, explaining, “I don’t believe he can change”; when we met he delivered an hour-long diatribe about Jack. Others discussed feeling berated, belittled and angry. Jack was depicted as a micromanager with a need for total control, someone who subjected others to “inquisitions” on a regular basis, and a manager who did not clearly communicate expectations up front. Weaknesses in delegation, motivation, and leadership were expressed consistently. Nevertheless, each individual also described him as a decent person with good intentions. Observing him at his staff meetings corroborated what was being reported. The conversation was one-way—with Jack asking questions and his staff responding; he spent most of his time with his head down taking notes on what was said; and his direct reports acted as separate individuals, giving no indication that they were part of a team. When the meeting ended, however, he invited everyone, including me, to lunch. When he learned I could not join them, he told a joke that he thought I would enjoy.

ANALYSIS: THE CASES OF JIM, STEVEN, AND JACK The four components of formal assessment—the psychodynamic interview, the 360-degree interviews, observations, and the use of self as a tool—were applied in different ways and in different sequences in each of the previous excerpts. Despite the variation in application, the result was the same—the amassing of a wealth of information about the client and the causes and effects of the client’s behavior at work.

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In the first example, the client readily demonstrated his commitment to coaching. He had already read and assimilated the consultant’s article and provided family-of-origin data with a clarity and incisiveness that brought the consultant right into his inner world. The nature of that information illuminated a number of critical factors. First and most apparent, his familyof-origin dynamics were repeating themselves in the current situation at work. Based on the environment in which he had grown up and on the way in which he had adapted to it, he had honed the skills of coping with chaos on a daily basis. Second, he had learned to sublimate his pain through humor and attainment of nearly impossible goals. Third, he had learned that he could trust at least one person: his coach. It is not surprising that the consultant left the first meeting feeling positive about the client and optimistic about the coaching that was to take place. The ensuing interviews revealed, however, that the client’s keen insight into the importance of his family-of-origin dynamics did not extend to awareness of the impact of his own behavior on those around him. To deal with this replication of his early experience, he was utilizing the behaviors that had served him well in the past (overachievement, overresponsibility, overcoming seemingly impossible obstacles). In addition, now in a position of authority himself, he was unwittingly repeating the authority patterns he had internalized from his childhood, although, ironically, they were the very behaviors that were most troubling to him in others. For his own survival, he had been forced to accept and adapt to inconsistency and unpredictability, but those who reported to him (and indirectly to the CFO) had not. The distress that they felt was, therefore, predictable. The client’s core issue had become clear by the end of formal assessment: He was adept at appeasing abusive authority figures but not at managing his own reactions in the aftermath. Consequently, the immediate work with him would be to help him increase his self-awareness in the moment so that he could identify his reactions and their impact on others, particularly his direct reports. Only by doing so could he serve as a buffer between them and the CFO. Given the client’s ability to be self-reflective, the high-order defenses he had honed, and his reported strengths, the consultant remained highly optimistic about the success of the coaching process. In the second example, it was the consultant’s use of self that provided the doorway to the client’s inner life. The lengthy list of respondents, the rapidity with which it was generated, and the impatience with which the client responded to the suggestion to shorten the list, was a demonstration of the behaviors that were causing his difficulties. Rather than becoming intimidated or defensive, the reactions from others to which the client had become accustomed, the consultant calmly but firmly set boundaries for the work. This intervention proved to be highly valuable in establishing the alliance,

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as became apparent at the very next meeting when the client demonstrated a willingness to reveal deeply personal information to the consultant. It was not until the conversation with the client’s therapist, however, that the full impact of the intervention became evident: Someone was, perhaps for the first time, performing a responsible parental task for him by setting limits in a supportive and nonjudgmental way. The therapist’s information also provided insight into the sources of the client’s wounding, the underlying reasons for the current pain, and the causes of dysfunctional behavior. Having grown up in an environment of emotional neglect, he had achieved the only recognition he had known in his professional milieu. His sense of urgency and drive for perfection had been reinforced many times over; now, it was the cause for rejection. Concurrently, his marriage was ending. His attempt to substitute a family, be it personal or organizational, for the one he never had was thus proving futile. His sense of confusion and loss was profound. The 360-degree interviews revealed that extreme splitting was occurring in reaction to the client. This dichotomy mirrored his own behaviors toward those with whom he worked—he either loved them and was a wonderful friend or he reviled them and made no attempt to disguise his contempt. His outer world had become a reflection of his inner world. Both would have to be addressed in all aspects of the ensuing work. In the third example, the client’s interactions with the consultant stood in stark contrast to those with others closely associated with him. During the psychodynamic interview, he was forthright, discussing his family of origin, his early professional goals, his military career and his divorce with a selfreflective wistfulness that engendered empathy and affection in the consultant. But the 360-degree interviews and the observation of the staff meeting revealed a very different side—one characterized by insensitivity and the need for restrictive control—of which the client seemed to be completely unaware. It was only after gathering the additional data that the consultant realized the degree to which the client consistently minimized distressing experiences as a way to disown his own painful emotions. But it was unclear to her whether the client’s lack of awareness was a result of his characteristic denial; an inability to perceive others’ reactions; regressive, dependent unconscious group-as-a-whole forces; his ineffective interpretation of his organizational role; or a combination of all four factors. Assessment thus served two major purposes in this case. The first was to elevate the importance of increased self-awareness as an objective for the coaching process. The second was to help formulate another set of hypotheses—and a concomitant set of questions—about what was eliciting the client’s behaviors. In essence, assessment had confirmed the need for more assessment— and it would continue to figure prominently throughout the process.

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ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY Argyris, C. (1952). Diagnosing defenses against the outsider. Journal of Social Issues, 8, 24–34. Enumerates the common forms of individual and institutional resistance organizational consultants encounter when attempting to conduct interviews. Kahn, R. L., & Cannell, C. F. (1965). Motivating respondents, setting objectives, designing questions, and probing to meet objectives. In The dynamics of interviewing (pp. 106–232). New York: Wiley. Comprehensive guidelines for the design and construction of effective interview protocols. Kaplan, A. (1964). The process of observation in behavioral science. In The conduct of inquiry (pp. 126–144). San Francisco, CA: Chandler. A remarkable section in a remarkable book about scientific method in the behavioral sciences. Kernberg, O. M. (1998). Leadership and organizational functioning; Regression in organizational leadership. In Ideology, conflict, and leadership in groups and organizations (pp. 51–90). New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. An exposition of the impact of systemic forces on individual leaders in organizations. Shea, S. C. (1988). Psychiatric interviewing: The art of understanding. Philadelphia, PA: W. B. Saunders. Comprehensive treatise on diagnostic interviewing skills. Sullivan, H. S. (1970). The psychiatric interview. New York: W.W. Norton. This is the classic by a master diagnostic interviewer. It contains discussions not only on interviewing technique but also on participant-observation, analysis of interactional patterns, and exploring resistance. Whyte, W. F. & Whyte, K. K. (1984). Learning from the field: A guide from experience. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Chapter 6 is an essential reading to gain an understanding of the interviewing techniques, particularly the unstructured interview, utilized in the assessment phase of Multidimensional Coaching.

CH A PT E R 9

Feedback

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f there is any one intervention that can be singled out for its potential to have the most dramatic impact on the client, it is feedback. As a vehicle for an objective and nonjudgmental professional to deliver reliable yet nuanced information to an open and responsive recipient, feedback can have a deep and lasting effect on the client’s self-awareness and self-image. The promise for engendering great insight, however, carries with it an equivalent capacity for causing substantial pain, particularly when the feedback compels the client to acknowledge heretofore disowned aspects of himself/herself. The consultant must therefore take extraordinary care, at all stages of feedback, to ensure the integrity of the data while monitoring the psychological preparedness of the client. The feedback process thus consists of three integral components: feedback preparation, the oral feedback report, and the written feedback report.

FEEDBACK PREPARATION As discussed in Chapter 3, multidimensional coaching is a derivative of a highly respected tradition in qualitative research (Alderfer, 1975, 1980b; Whyte, 1984). Two aspects of this tradition are most relevant at this juncture in the coaching process. The first is a well-established methodology that provides the framework for feedback data analysis. The second is the inherent assumption that it is neither possible nor desirable for the researcher to remove the self from the research process. Consequently, this section begins with a caveat for the consultant and then moves on to the data analysis procedure. First, the caveat: The consultant must make every attempt to be aware of his/her own feelings toward the client as he/she works with the feedback data. This constant self-monitoring is critical in order to avoid inadvertently 83

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biasing the data either positively or negatively, as well as to continue to gather valuable self-as-tool data. The procedure is as follows: 1. The data from each question in the protocol is added to all other data for the same question. 2. Data items are counted for frequency, and those that are unrelated to other items and appear only once are omitted. 3. The data throughout the protocol are examined to determine repeated thoughts and are again counted for frequency. 4. Emerging themes, based on the repeated thoughts, are identified. 5. Relevant adjectives, phrases, and illustrative quotes are listed under each theme. 6. The themes and thematic material are organized within categories (see Appendix D): Context (i.e., systemic forces), Role Expectations, Strengths, Complex Areas (i.e., areas characterized as both strengths and weaknesses), Developmental Areas, and Advice (verbatim). 7. The consultant reviews the material in relation to (a) the observations that he/she has conducted and (b) his/her use-of-self data, noting where, and hypothesizing why, there are differences and noting when the inclusion of this firsthand information might be most beneficial. 8. The consultant reviews the report to make certain that confidentiality has not been violated in any content, particularly verbatim quotes. The report is now ready for oral presentation to the client.

THE ORAL FEEDBACK REPORT The consultant orally delivers the results to the client in a session of up to 3 hours to allow ample time for questions, interpretations, and dialogue. The consultant opens the meeting by reminding the client that what he/she is about to hear is based on others’ perceptions (and must have been identified by several sources to appear in feedback), that the sources of the information will not be divulged, and that the feedback itself will be considered confidential. The consultant then reminds the client that a written report will follow, so the latter, rather than taking copious notes, can listen and engage in a dialogue that will help attach meaning to the information. The consultant shares the results, moving from general to specific and from positive to critical. Beginning with systemic forces and role expectations, both of which are described in relation to how they might impact the client’s behavior and the way in which it is being perceived, the consultant moves

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to those areas considered strengths, emphasizing the importance of the perceived strengths and the manner in which those strengths can be leveraged throughout the client’s change process. Reported next are those complex areas that are characterized as both strengths and weaknesses, with some discussion about why the seeming contradiction exists. The consultant then presents those areas that are considered in need of development, leaving for last those items that might be most difficult or painful for the client to hear. After discussing the developmental areas, the advice is read verbatim. Throughout the report, the client is encouraged to share his/her reactions, and the consultant may offer his/her own observations, interpretations, and analyses to assist in a deeper understanding of the material. At the conclusion of the feedback report, the consultant asks the client about his/her feelings and thoughts. Specific questions may be asked, such as: What was surprising to you? What was most gratifying? What concerns you most? Is there anything that wasn’t clear? The consultant’s skillful use of self is heightened during feedback reporting. Should the client detect even the slightest hint of judgment, criticism, or disapproval from the consultant, the feedback is compromised, the working alliance jeopardized, and all subsequent work at risk. Relentless observation of the client’s reactions, both explicit and implicit, and assiduous selfexamination are absolutely essential here so that the consultant is able to gauge how much the client is absorbing, how much is being resisted, how gentle or forceful the delivery must be, and the client’s general affective state at the conclusion of the report. Furthermore, the client’s responses (e.g., openness, receptivity, curiosity versus defensiveness, rationalization, emotionality) provide direct information about how he/she handles feedback. This can serve to corroborate or refute what has been reported to the consultant and, in turn, can be used as data for subsequent coaching interventions.

THE WRITTEN FEEDBACK REPORT The written report is prepared and given to the client subsequent to the oral feedback meeting, and it reflects all aspects of the oral report. It provides the client with the opportunity to further absorb, interpret, and/or ask questions about the content. Once the client is satisfied with the clarity of the information, the feedback is used as the basis for formulating coaching objectives. The case excerpts that follow demonstrate a range of feedback experiences. Two are from cases with which we have already become familiar. The third is one that we will revisit in a later chapter.

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THE CASE OF JEANNE (continued) Jeanne had reserved a conference room in another building so that we would not be disturbed during the feedback. She had a pen out, ready to take notes, but I told her the best thing would be for her to listen. I began by discussing the interaction between the individual and the organization, explaining that behavior had to be seen within the context of where it was occurring. I then described the culture of the institution as it had been reported to me and as I had seen it: laid-back, nonauthoritarian, and seemingly nonhierarchical, but within a structure that was rigidly defined by organizational memberships— professionals, administrators, support staff. Jeanne interjected her agreement, explaining that the president espoused nonhierarchy but, in fact, expected everyone to acknowledge that he was the boss. This provided a natural transition to a discussion of Jeanne’s role. I explained that it was one that made her highly visible—and highly suspect. Her formal responsibilities were to manage the business functions of the agency. Less clear were the responsibilities that had not been formalized—to serve as the president’s chief of staff. Although a formal announcement of those responsibilities had never been made, every member of the agency was keenly aware that Jeanne served in that capacity. That left her open to suspicion from staff and extreme jealousy from peers. In addition, because the president delegated to Jeanne all the things that he was unwilling to do, and because Jeanne understood how to be the “quintessential staff person” (i.e., uncompromising loyalty, flawless execution of orders, etc.), it was left to Jeanne to implement all of the unpleasant and distasteful tasks, thereby perpetuating her reputation as the “hatchet woman.” I indicated to Jeanne that, despite this role, there was much about the feedback that was extremely positive, and we turned to those things that were considered her strengths. They included integrity, professionalism, loyalty, trustworthiness, straightforwardness, high standards, and exceptional planning and organizational skills. She had been repeatedly described as a “genuinely nice person,” and her direct reports were unanimously comfortable and proud to be working with her. Jeanne was visibly relieved to hear these comments. As we prepared to discuss the areas for development, I reminded her that strengths could often have another side to them, particularly if magnified by a culture in which those behaviors were not the norm. I suggested that that was occurring in her case, and listed some of the attributes that could be considered the downside of the areas already mentioned as strengths: controlling, demanding, perfectionistic, and dominant. These manifested themselves in serious delegation problems, causing Jeanne to feel overwhelmed by the need to do everything herself.

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In addition, because Jeanne was as hard on others as she was on herself, she created an environment in which others were afraid to make a mistake. I paused to make certain Jeanne was absorbing the information. She indicated that none of it surprised her, so I went on. I told her that I believed at the heart of most of her problems was her need to either have everything done perfectly by everyone around her, or to do it herself so that it would be perfect. I explained that this set up a vicious cycle in which her direct reports did not learn and were not accountable, thereby impeding her ability to either develop her staff or to replace those who were truly incapable of doing the work. This created a situation in which she, herself, was required to do all the work, resulting in her feeling overwhelmed and angry, which, in turn, caused her to be abrupt and reactive with those around her. They, then, became fearful of making a mistake and unwilling to take on new challenges, thus perpetuating the cycle. We talked about the fact that the only way out of this was for her to allow her direct reports to do the work, including allowing mistakes to occur. The nature and frequency of the mistakes would determine whether people were learning or whether they had to be replaced. We also talked about the fact that delegation did not mean abrogation of responsibility to oversee the effort. In light of previous discussions about relinquishing the need to universally produce A+ work, she said that she was ready to delegate and step back. I concluded the feedback report with other areas that been mentioned, but which we had already discussed in earlier meetings: the need to listen, seek input, and not interrupt; the need to modify the quickness with which certain decisions were made and imposed; the need to have others understand the importance of their work by including the bigger picture; the immediate cessation of public reprimands; and limiting of the use of e-mail, replacing it with more face-to-face communication. Jeanne expressed relief when the feedback ended. She said that nothing had been a surprise and that we had already discussed most of the significant areas. She was gratified by what had been described as strengths and determined to improve in the areas that were impeding her effectiveness and the growth and development of her staff. I asked her to think about the feedback until our next meeting and invited her to call me if she had any questions or needed to discuss anything before then.

THE CASE OF JACK (continued) Jack appeared nervous at the feedback session. He was uncharacteristically serious and brought a pad and pen to the conference table. I told him that it

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was not necessary to take notes, as I would be giving him a written report. I began by reporting on what I saw as the context in which he was working—a government agency with a clear hierarchy but not always very clear lines of authority. In addition, the complexity of the task of his unit, combined with the high visibility of the work and extremely demanding clients, made his job particularly difficult. As a result, the role expectations placed on him were equally demanding and complex: leadership that provided vision, inspiration, and direction to others; high-level decision making, which empowered others to make lower-level decisions; highly visible “public relations” for the unit; and liaison to senior management. His list of strengths was long and centered on his technical skills, his attention to details, his commitment to the organization, and a universal belief in his human decency. There were three clear areas for improvement: delegation, motivation, and leadership. He was perceived as a micromanager who used intimidation to move others, focusing on their weaknesses rather than their strengths, and who did not display a sense of vision or an ability to build a cohesive team. Throughout the feedback, Jack was extremely attentive. He was visibly uncomfortable listening to the strengths. He was serious and focused when listening to the weaknesses. When I concluded the report, he looked at me and remarked, “You have a lot of hard work with me.” When I reminded him of what had been reported about his strengths, he said all of the credit for those went to his parents and his brother. He then referred to a specific area that had been mentioned regarding leadership—his inability to confront others. He explained that he had only seen his father cry once. It had happened after a disagreement between his father and his mother. Jack attributed his difficulty to confront others to this and stated that he believed this was also the source of difficulties in his marriage. I asked him what he thought would happen if he addressed difficult issues at work. “I don’t know,” he responded quietly. We agreed that that was an area we should work on. “I remember leadership and motivation. What was the third area you mentioned?” Jack next asked. “Delegation,” I responded. “Oh, that’s right. They think I’m a micromanager. Are you sure? I don’t think I micromanage.” I suggested we might want to look at the discrepancy in perceptions over the course of our work.

THE CASE OF CARA Because the perceptions of Cara’s areas for improvement were significant, I spent a considerable amount of time explaining the concept of context and embedded behavior. In previous sessions, she had shown an interest in theory,

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so I explained related theory, as well. I shared her reported strengths first: bright, calm, technically competent, politically astute, and interested in the development of staff. When I turned to the reported weaknesses, Cara began to explain why each was untrue. I reminded her that, true or not, these were perceptions that needed to be managed, and that she could not do so if she did not acknowledge that they existed. I then gave her some examples so that she could better understand. Cara told me that each of these situations was the fault of others. Based on her reactions, I suggested that we concentrate on at least one area that sounded reasonable to her and over which she had some control. She agreed to think about the selection. The following week, I gave her the written report and sat in the room while she read it. Once again, she denied the truth of the feedback. Again, I stated that it could be completely inaccurate from her perspective, but it was very real for those around her, and, consequently, as the manager of the department, it would be valuable for her to learn to manage those perceptions. She then asked that the wording on the report be changed. I told her I would be willing to make changes that would make her more comfortable but still carry the message. I also expressed curiosity about why she found it necessary to make those changes. She replied, “Well, I don’t want my boss to see this wording.” I reminded her that any information between us was completely confidential, and that the only way her manager would see the report would be if she, herself, shared it with him. Cara visibly relaxed. We were then able to have a conversation about each of the items.

ANALYSIS: THE CASES OF JEANNE, JACK, AND CARA The reactions to feedback, as these excerpts demonstrate, can range from complete acceptance to strong resistance to outright denial, all of which the consultant must be prepared to handle and use as data for subsequent work with the client. In the first case, because the objectives were so clear, it had been possible to begin coaching while still conducting feedback interviews. Thus, by the time the formal feedback report was given to the client, much of the data had already been shared as part of the coaching process. The feedback primarily served as a review of what the client already had come to understand and, secondarily, as positive reinforcement for her strengths and those areas on which she had already begun to work. In addition, because it was not the first time the client was hearing much of the information, the consultant could not only report but also interpret the data. A deeper discussion of the multilevel forces was therefore possible, and the client was able to take a broader view

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of the changes that she wanted to make—a view that would prove integral to how she would redefine her role in the group and in the organization. It is also noteworthy that a very strong working alliance had been forged over the course of the coaching process. The level of trust and concern was extremely high by this point in the coaching relationship. Consequently, the environment was ideal for the client to be receptive to what she heard. The timing of the feedback in the second case was very different. The consultant and the client had agreed that the feedback would be used as the basis for establishing specific coaching objectives. Thus, the report came very early in the process, while the relationship between them was still forming; consequently, the consultant was still unable to fully weigh the data against her own experiences of the client. In addition, as the only cogent hypothesis the consultant had formulated was that the client disowned negative emotion through minimization, or outright denial, of painful experiences, she did not feel prepared to predict the full range of his reactions. As it turned out, the client’s responses served as behavioral confirmation of the feedback: He was visibly uncomfortable with praise; he was admittedly avoidant of confrontation; the person who was noted for his uncanny memory for detail “forgot” that the third area for improvement was delegation; and, throughout, he approached the data with great sincerity and seriousness. The feedback session served not only as a vehicle to set specific objectives for the coaching process but also to confirm the veracity of the data that had been reported. The session, itself, provided rich material to which to refer in subsequent sessions. In the third case, the feedback session occurred relatively early in the process, but subsequent to the start of coaching. Here, feedback interviews were conducted not only to set specific objectives but also to gain more information about the results of a standardized 360-degree instrument that the client had received. Those results had come as a complete shock, and they had precipitated the request for coaching. Although the client had been hopeful that the interviews would produce data that refuted the original results, they were, in fact, similar, and, because of the additional detail, they seemed even more unfavorable. When the client again demonstrated shock and lack of understanding, the consultant attributed the reactions to what she had observed as characteristic defense mechanisms—denial and rationalization. It was the written report, however, that triggered the real sources of the resistance—fear and lack of trust. The client had projected her feelings about her manager onto the consultant. When this became evident, it could be addressed, and the work could begin in earnest. The feedback session, in addition to supplying expanded feedback data and providing the basis for setting objectives, had revealed crucial information about the client’s relationship with her manager and had substantially strengthened the alliance.

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ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY Emerson, R. M., Fretz, R. I., & Shaw, L. L. (1995). Writing ethnographic fieldnotes. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Chapter 6, which discusses coding and the development of themes, is of particular relevance. Kets de Vries, F.R., & Miler, D. (1984). Identifying defense mechanisms and sources of resistance. In The neurotic organization (pp. 133–145). San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass. A thoughtful review of defenses and resistance within an organizational system. Whyte, W. F., & Whyte, K. K. (1984). Learning from the field: A guide from experience. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. The discussion, in Chapter 7, of evaluating interview data is a valuable contribution to preparing the feedback.

CH A PT E R 1 0

Objectives Setting

In multidimensional coaching, there is a three-fold purpose to objectives setting. First and most obvious, it allows universal understanding of what will be accomplished. This provides the basis for relevant others, specifically the client’s manager, to become actively engaged in supporting the client rather than, however inadvertently, perpetuating undermining patterns. Although the manager has been involved from the beginning—perhaps in initial contact, but certainly in goal setting and the interview process—this is the opportunity for the manager and client to come together to establish developmental objectives in the same way that they establish task or financial goals, thereby treating them as being of the same magnitude. It is also the opportunity for the client and coach to make certain that the manager agrees with the objectives as they are formulated, or if the latter so desires, to discuss modifying or adding objectives that seem more critical. Additionally, it is the opportunity for the client to request specific support from the manager in achieving and maintaining the objectives, and for the consultant to remind the manager that he/she, as the individual responsible for evaluating the client’s performance on an ongoing basis and providing feedback in relation to objective attainment, will be a crucial part of the client’s process of change. Finally, it is an opportunity for the consultant to review the relationship between the client and his/her manager, observing the interactions in the same framework as in goal setting (see Chapter 6), and now, informed by repeated entry into the organization, full interview data and multiple interactions with the client, to make relevant interpersonal interventions. The second purpose is to heighten the client’s ownership of the process. Although the consultant has encouraged client ownership from the beginning by having the client make the final decision about whether to initiate coaching, by asking the client to prepare the interview list and inform those individuals about the process, and by engaging the client in dialogue about feedback, 93

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objectives setting moves the responsibility for the remainder of the coaching process directly into the client’s hands. By setting clear objectives, the client specifies and takes direct responsibility for what he/she wants to accomplish. The third purpose of objectives setting is evaluation. If articulated well, the objectives are a vehicle for all involved to evaluate progress and ultimate success. During the coaching process, the client and the coach use the objectives to monitor progress, making adjustments in the work, as needed. The objectives are also a clear measure of when coaching is complete. And, after the conclusion of coaching, it is the originally articulated objectives that provide the basis on which statistically valid outcome evaluation may be conducted (see Chapter 12). The procedure for setting coaching objectives is as follows: 1. The client and consultant review the feedback to determine the most salient areas. 2. The client, with input from the consultant, selects a maximum of three objectives, based on the following criteria: (a) personal importance to client, (b) magnitude of impact in changing perceptions, (c) secondary effects on other identified developmental areas, and (d) likelihood of successful attainment in the organizational environment. 3. The objectives are articulated so as to be specific, measurable, and attainable within the time frame of the coaching agreement. 4. The client, with the consultant’s support, prepares for the three-way objectives-setting meeting with the client’s manager. 5. The three-way objectives-setting meeting is scheduled and held. During the meeting, the client takes the leadership role, presenting the objectives and inviting input from the manager; the consultant, meanwhile, observes and, if appropriate, intervenes. 6. The objectives are committed to writing. This becomes the coaching “contract” among the coach, the client, and the client’s manager. It is important to note that objectives, for the reasons explicated above, are not confidential. It is therefore essential that they are articulated in a manner that is not open to negative interpretation and thereby potentially harmful to the client. All objectives are examined from this perspective before they are publicly shared. The following cases describe objectives setting and the additional information that it contributes to the coaching process.

THE CASE OF KEN The feedback for Ken, the 30-year-old project director for a growing advertising agency, revealed that he was highly regarded for his communication

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and interpersonal skills and his ability to be a positive influence on the organization. Conversely, as a result of his willingness to tolerate unexpected demands from his manager, substandard performance from his staff, and what was perceived as abusive behavior from the director of production, Ken was seen as crisis oriented, risk aversive, and a weak leader. Dealing with the abusive behavior was the reason coaching had begun; consequently, based on the feedback, Ken defined three additional interrelated objectives. The first was to develop a long range plan for his department and proactively identify and implement measurable objectives. The second was to improve performance management by becoming more skilled at confronting and correcting poor performance and recognizing superior performance. The third was to more effectively “manage up” by keeping his manager appropriately informed about his department’s workload. He determined that the first objective would be accomplished within 3 months, and the second and third would be instituted immediately by establishing formal communication vehicles, both up and down, for regularly scheduled status updates and feedback. Given the nature of the objectives and that the initial goal-setting meeting had revolved almost entirely around the difficulties with the production manager, we both felt it was important to share the new objectives with his manager, George, the 60-year-old COO of the agency. We met in George’s office. Just prior to the meeting, Ken had revised his financial goals for the year and had submitted them to George, who began the meeting by approving all revisions. As Ken outlined his coaching objectives, George interrupted to comment at length on each. His tone was warm and supportive, and he took ample time to offer detailed examples. George did the majority of the talking throughout the meeting, and he pointed out that the agency, as a whole, had identified many of the same areas as priorities and was already working on them. Ken, at several points in the conversation, referred to his own “lack of experience,” his youth, and his need for advice. When Ken finished outlining his objectives, George offered him suggestions about how he should go about attaining them and why it was important to do so. He concluded by saying that he was willing to help Ken in any way he could. I asked if there were any objectives that George wanted to add. He said they all had been covered. After the meeting, I asked Ken how he felt about the discussion. He indicated that he was comfortable, but added that he felt that George had not listened to some of what he was saying. I asked if this was typical of his discussions with George. He said it was. We made an appointment for our first coaching session.

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THE CASE OF SONIA Sonia’s feedback had revealed that she was exceptional at execution, that she was considered a strong process leader, and that she had an extraordinary work ethic with unusually high standards of performance for herself and others. The feedback had also clearly identified difficulties with peers and those more junior than she. The 35-year-old project manager was seen by her peers as personally aloof, and by her direct reports as an insensitive and highly demanding micromanager. I had experienced what were described as her strengths from the very beginning of our work together, so I was not surprised that she was completely prepared with her clearly articulated objectives when we met to discuss them. Neither was it surprising that she had chosen to address what were, for her, the most challenging of her developmental areas—to improve personal relationships by allowing people to get to know her, to soften her communication style by listening more and adapting to the individual, and to demonstrate her confidence in others by knowing when to compromise and let go. Because she had been unfailingly open, warm, and highly receptive in all of our interactions, however, it was difficult for me to associate the more critical feedback with the person I was coming to know. This conflicting data had further supported a hypothesis that I had formulated at the start of the work: Sonia was skilled at managing the relationships with those she considered authority figures (i.e., her internal clients, senior managers, and me) but ineffective with those having equal or lesser organizational status. The question, at this point, centered on the extent to which her selective application of management skills was intentional. Throughout the meeting with Linda, her 54-year-old manager, Sonia was poised, self-confident, and attentive. The supportive and mutually respectful relationship the two women shared was apparent, evidenced not only by their interactions but by the fact that Sonia had shared her feedback report with Linda. The latter repeatedly expressed her desire to be of help in any way possible and gave Sonia thoughtful advice about forming partnerships with colleagues. Linda expressed only one concern about her ability to be helpful: She could not relate to the negative feedback regarding Sonia’s interpersonal skills. Apparently feeling the need to explain, Linda turned to me, tears running down her cheeks and described the compassion with which Sonia had treated her during the recent loss of her mother. When I looked at Sonia, she too had tears in her eyes, but gently said to her manager: “I know you feel that way, and I am very glad; but others do not, and that is what I must change.” The meeting ended shortly thereafter.

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ANALYSIS: THE CASES OF KEN AND SONIA In the first case, it was the contrast in the client’s behavior that generated the working hypotheses. Had objectives setting remained within the confines of the first meeting, it would have been difficult to understand why lack of leadership had emerged so prominently in the feedback. With the consultant, the client took full ownership for formulating incisive and compelling objectives with strongly positive implications for himself and his department. A very different set of behaviors, however, surfaced during the three-way meeting. Here, the client appeared to be entirely invested in maintaining a subservient, and very junior, role. The question, of course, was why he was engaged in this collusion. Several hypotheses were formulated: (1) It was most important to him to have the support of his manager, so he would adopt any behavior that was necessary to maintain it. (2) Unconscious forces in the group required that someone take on this role, and Ken, because of his age, was unconsciously complying. (3) This was the relationship he had had with his father, and he was unconsciously repeating it in the work environment. (4) Because his manager was old enough to be his father, this was a sign of respect. (5) Maintaining the posture of the inexperienced, young manager who needed the help and support of all those around him was a way to avoid dealing with some of the more unpleasant aspects of his job. The nature of the work with this client would be greatly influenced by which hypotheses were supported by further data as the coaching process continued. In the second case, it was not the client’s behavior, but rather the manager’s that sparked a new set of hypotheses. In this case, the efficiency of objectives setting in the first meeting had been predictable. In characteristic fashion, the client had seized the opportunity to take full responsibility for reviewing the existing information and translating it into actionable language against which she could execute. Also as expected, in the second meeting the client’s professionalism and warmth were palpable. Her behavior not only supported the hypothesis that her interpersonal skills were proficient with authority figures but made clear that the emotional connection she had formed was completely authentic. Given the relationship between the two women and the manager’s repeated declarations of support, it was surprising that the latter was willing to dismiss the data that had been the very reason that coaching had been initiated and in doing so, was, however unconsciously, undermining the client’s efforts. The client’s respectful challenge demonstrated that she would not collude with the denial and was committed to change. As a result of the objectives-setting meetings, the consultant formulated three interrelated hypotheses. The first was that, for the manager to behave

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in so dichotomous a fashion, there were in operation powerful unconscious organizational forces to prevent the client from changing. The second was that there would be a concomitant pull on the consultant, as a result of repeated organizational entry and the already obvious similarities in interaction between the consultant and the client and the manager and the client, to dismiss the importance of the client’s objectives. The third was that the client, faced with these influences, would approach coaching in the same way as she approached all of her objectives—as simply another of the many tasks that she was so adept at executing with resolute determination and uncompromising perfection. The ability of the consultant to remain vigilant to these forces and, in turn, help the client become aware of them, would prove critical in the work ahead.

ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY Kanfer, F. H., & Gaelick-Buys, L. (1991). In F. H. Kanfer & A. P. Goldstein (Eds.), Helping people change: A textbook of methods (4th ed., pp.305–360). New York: Pergamon Press. An excellent discussion of the rationale for and the components of behavioral self-management, including the need to articulate clear objectives.

CH A PT E R 1 1

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s the preceding chapters have continually espoused, executive coaching must be viewed as a process that focuses on more than the individual and more than what is conscious. It regards the organization and its components as active participants rather than as a contextual backdrop and therefore treats every individual intervention as a simultaneous organizational intervention. It explores every observable action for underlying meaning and examines behavior in light of a multitude of forces—not only intrapsychic and organizational but also interpersonal, group, and intergroup—and maintains that those forces have unconscious elements that are, at minimum, as powerful as to those that are conscious. It affirms that the consultant, upon entering the organization, is subject to the same forces and therefore requires that the consultant engage in self-reflection and self-scrutiny in order to use himself/herself as a finely calibrated instrument with which to formulate and test hypotheses, to monitor individual and organizational change, and to select and implement appropriate interventions, which can be as varied as the objectives of the client and the forces that influence the client’s behaviors. It is during this, the formal coaching stage, that the interventions become most apparent. The consultant, with the utmost respect for individual and organizational readiness, regularly meets with the client, continuously assesses what the client needs, and chooses from among an extensive repertoire of methods and techniques the most appropriate intervention at any given point in the work with the client. There are, therefore, three essential requirements for effectiveness during formal coaching. The first is the comprehensive understanding of the client and the organization acquired from all that has preceded this phase. The second is a planned and purposeful venue in which the formal coaching can occur. The third is a thorough knowledge of the widest possible array of coaching techniques and methods. Each of these is discussed in detail below. 99

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THE FOUNDATION: PRECEDING STAGES Figure 11.1 is a vivid depiction of coaching as the pinnacle of a much larger process in which each previous stage contributes to the efficacy of the next. It is only with clearly articulated objectives that it is possible to formulate a meaningful coaching plan, to measure progress and ultimate success, and to invite into the process relevant others whose acceptance and reinforcement of change is crucial. It is only with thorough, reliable, and relevant feedback, and the client’s openness to receive it, that it is possible to determine the most critical objectives. It is only with comprehensive assessment, and the methodology to conduct it, that it is possible to prepare, analyze, and deliver thorough feedback. It is only with willing participation by the organization and the client that it is possible to conduct assessment. It is only with the establishment of a solid working alliance between the client and the consultant that it is possible for engagement in the coaching process to occur. It is only with a robust and cogent theory to guide and inform every phase of coaching that it is possible to have a sound executive coaching process. And it is only with a sound process that it is possible to foster the fundamental goals of coaching—expanded self-awareness and sustained change.

FIGURE 11.1 Coaching and preceding phases.

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THE VENUE: REGULARLY SCHEDULED MEETINGS Regularly scheduled meetings form the basis of a reiterative and recursive cycle of consistent progression toward coaching objectives. Although the focus in each meeting can be quite different, certain core elements are constant across meetings and clients. These elements include the deepening alliance between the consultant and the client, and assignments that will bring the client closer to attaining his/her goals. As represented in Figure 11.2, there are six recurrent components: 1. Reconnect: The client and the consultant take the time to reestablish their connection in whatever way is most comfortable for the client. 2. Update: The client briefs the consultant on what has occurred at work since the last meeting. 3. Review homework: The client shares his/her experiences with the assignment, which usually consists of some form of behavioral experimentation and some provision for self-observation and reflection. Together, the client and the consultant identify and explore the relative ease or difficulty in completing the assignment and the client’s observations about himself/herself in attempting to complete it. 4. Analyze factors: The client and the consultant identify the individual and contextual factors that led to the ease or difficulty of completing the assignment to determine how these factors can be either reinforced or mitigated in the future. 5. Assign new homework: After positively reinforcing the client for progress made thus far, the consultant assigns a new action that is progressively more challenging than the last. 6. Schedule next meeting: The client and the consultant agree on the date and time of the next meeting, taking into consideration the length of time required to adequately complete the new assignment. In a perfect world, the progression would be linear, with each meeting building on the previous one and change occurring incrementally. Executives, however, do not live in a perfect world. Organizational exigencies are a part of daily life, and the consultant, as a trusted advisor, must be prepared to work with the client on emerging issues as they arise (see Figure 11.3). Other issues, linked not to conscious organizational priorities but to unconscious reactions to the coaching process, may also arise. As assignments become more difficult for the client, or as change in the client becomes more apparent to the organization, resistance may become inevitable. The client might find reasons not to do assignments or encounter powerful obstacles while

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FIGURE 11.2 Basic components of coaching meetings.

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RECONNECT

UPDATE

PRIORITY ISSUE?

Y

DISCUSS

ANALYZE

ALTERNATIVES

NEXT STEPS

N

REVIEW HOMEWORK

Y

TIME?

ANALYZE FACTORS

N

NEW ASSIGNMENT

SCHEDULE NEXT MEETING

FIGURE 11.3 Coaching meetings—unexpected priorities.

attempting to complete assignments. It is at this juncture that exploration of resistance, whether intrapsychic or organizational, becomes essential, and the client’s insight becomes the pathway to further progress (see Figure 11.4). As is immediately apparent, there are three paths in the coaching cycle. The middle path of the chart generally occurs during the very early part of coaching, when easier behavioral practice is assigned, and during the final stage of coaching, when the objectives have been achieved and are being reinforced. If all meetings follow this path, however, the consultant must consider whether the assignments should be more challenging, the objectives should be revised, or the client does not need the help of a coach in achieving them. The path on the right can occur during any point in

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RECONNECT

UPDATE

PRIORITY ISSUE?

Y

DISCUSS

ANALYZE

ALTERNATIVES

NEXT STEPS

N

REVIEW HOMEWORK

TIME?

COMPLETED?

N

Y

EXPLORE RESISTANCE

INSIGHT?

Y

ANALYZE FACTORS

Y

N

NEW ASSIGNMENT

N

REASSIGN HOMEWORK

SCHEDULE NEXT MEETING

FIGURE 11.4 Coaching meetings—full cycle.

coaching. In the most ideal of circumstances, these emerging issues and the manner in which they might be addressed can readily be linked to the coaching objectives and used for deeper learning; if however, every meeting follows this path and continuously diverts attention from the attainment of stated coaching objectives, the consultant must question whether this is a form of resistance and intervene accordingly. The path on the left of the chart illustrates what occurs when seemingly insurmountable obstacles arise. The consultant and the client together explore the nature and source of the impediment and whether it is a form of unconscious resistance in the client, the context, or both. If so, based entirely on what appears to be the client’s readiness to acknowledge the resistance, the consultant determines the relative gentleness or forcefulness of the intervention. Sometimes, a flash of insight proves pivotal to the remainder of the coaching process; sometimes the insight emerges more slowly. Consequently, there are intervals in the cycle in which progress can be made without

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deeper psychological exploration and other stages when insight is crucial in order to move forward.

INTERVENTIONS: METHODS AND TECHNIQUES Using the most effective intervention for a specific client at any given moment during the coaching cycle is the consultant’s most important responsibility during this phase. Methods may range from straightforward behavioral change techniques to complex psychological interventions, depending on the client’s awareness of the specific behavior and the intrapsychic or organizational factors that are precipitating it. Some, but certainly not all, of the most prevalent coaching methods, drawn from the most widely accepted psychological traditions, are defined below and selectively illustrated in the cases that follow; sources for these and other valuable models are mentioned in the annotated bibliography at the conclusion of this chapter.

Behavioral Methods • • • • • • •

Behavioral experimentation: Testing desired behaviors in the work setting. Modeling: Demonstrating the desired behaviors. Positive reinforcement: Rewarding the desired behaviors when they occur. Role playing: Practicing the desired behaviors in a simulated setting. Self-monitoring: Observing oneself in a particular situation so as to behave in the desired manner. Self-reinforcement: Rewarding oneself for using the desired behaviors. Visualization: Imagining oneself behaving in a desired manner.

Cognitive Methods • • • • •

Challenging negative thoughts: Examining the validity of thoughts that undermine positive change. Journaling: Writing about one’s own experiences. Positive self-talk: Talking to oneself in a way that supports desired change. Readings: Acquiring knowledge about a particular subject through selected books and articles. Reframing: Thinking about an event or situation in a different way.

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•

Self-reflection: Retrospectively examining one’s reactions to a particular event or situation.

Psychodynamic Methods • •

• • • •

• • • • •

Analyzing countertransference: Examining the consultant’s feelings and emotions toward the client. Analyzing parallel processes: Examining ways in which patterns in the subsystem are unconsciously mirroring patterns in the suprasystem, or vice versa. Analyzing transference: Examining the client’s feelings and emotions toward the consultant. Boundary management: Establishing effective levels of psychological boundary permeability. Encouraging higher order defenses: Supporting the substitution of more effective ways to deal with anxiety. Exploring family-of-origin dynamics: Examining the parallels between the patterns in the client’s family of origin and the patterns in the work setting. Here-and-now interventions: Examining dynamics at the moment in which they occur. Identifying defense mechanisms: Pinpointing the characteristic manner in which the client protects himself/herself against anxiety. Identifying unconscious triggers: Making conscious the unconscious stimuli that result in ineffective responses. Metaphors, archetypes, myths, fantasies: Using, or examining the use of, symbols. Respecting resistance: Recognizing the need to refrain from weakening defense mechanisms.

Organizational Methods • • • •

Dyadic: Examining interactional patterns between two individuals. Group: Examining the dynamics within a group. Intergroup: Examining the dynamics among groups. System-wide: Examining the dynamics within the system as a whole.

Armed with an arsenal of methods, within the framework of a consistent approach, and guided by strong theory, the consultant is ready to engage in a systematic coaching program that has the potential of making a dramatic difference in the life of the client. The following excerpts, from cases with

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three clients that have been introduced in previous chapters, illustrate the power of this approach.

THE CASE OF KEN (continued) During the first three coaching meetings, Ken and I had made little progress on his objectives, focusing instead on several crises that had arisen in close proximity to each meeting. I hypothesized that this was a form of resistance but, because Ken had not been forthcoming about his family of origin during my initial attempts to learn about him, I was reluctant to engage in intrapsychic exploration at this relatively early stage in formal coaching. At the end of the fourth session, however, Ken made an important disclosure: He believed that challenging those who were aggressive to him would mean that he, himself, was abusive. Rather than attempting to explore the source of the belief, we discussed aggressiveness and abusiveness in terms of boundaries. This was a concept to which Ken was readily able to relate, given his organizational role as the agency’s primary client liaison, bridging the gap between the creative team and the production team to present a seamless whole to the customer. He immediately saw the ways in which he was allowing personal boundary intrusion. When I arrived for the fifth session, Ken began the meeting by asking me about my career decisions—specifically, why I had chosen a midcareer shift and whether I was happy with my choice. Somewhat surprised by his uncharacteristic interest in my own experiences, I chose to answer his questions in some detail. He said he was very interested because he wondered whether he would stay in his current career for the rest of his life. When I summarized Levinson’s (1978) life-cycle concepts, he seemed relieved to learn that his professional questioning was developmentally appropriate, and he welcomed the opportunity to read some relevant excerpts. He then began to tell me about his father—a miner who had spent his entire life in one place in one job, working 16 hours a day to support his wife and their five children. Ken, the oldest, had been the first on his father’s side of the family to earn a college degree. Working his way through college, he was considered the “trailblazer” in the small farming community in which he had grown up. When he joined the military, it was the first time he had left the area. He had met his wife during college, and, as the daughter of a military career officer, she was with Ken during his tours of duty. Ken talked about the importance of exposing his two daughters to “experiences” versus “giving them things” because of what he had learned growing up: “We didn’t have a lot, but we didn’t know the difference.”

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Ken continued by telling me that all of his siblings had followed his lead and had begun college. He then talked about the middle child, Nat, who seemed to have “no direction.” Nat had dropped out of school and was unsure what he wanted to do. He was resentful of Ken, however, and continuously referred to Ken’s success as “luck.” When I asked Ken if he had ever countered Nat’s conclusion—pointing out that he had worked very hard to achieve the success he had had—he indicated that he had not. When I asked why, he said that he did not communicate very well in difficult situations. When I asked him if he had any sense of why that was so, he talked about his parent’s unbending faith and their attitude that “Everything will work out.” I asked him if he, too, believed that. He said, while he respected his parents’ commitment to religion, he did not agree. Ken was silent for a moment. He then looked up and said, “This is just like the difficulty I am having here at work, isn’t it?”

THE CASE OF JEANNE (continued) Jeanne had asked that we devote a major portion of our scheduled meeting to the employee substance abuse issue that she needed to confront. Her assignment, as her first action step, had been to discuss the situation with her human resources department and obtain its recommendations. She opened the meeting by sharing what she had learned: “The usual: Document, document, document.” That dissatisfied her because it was not her goal to terminate her employee. I then told her the advice I had received from a trusted human resources professional—to conduct a series of conversations, each becoming sequentially more confrontational about the issue, but with the intent of urging the employee to address the problem and receive help. Jeanne liked that approach, and we agreed that it would be wise to seek the human resources department’s approval on that course of action before proceeding. I suggested we role-play the first conversation—a gentle confrontation in which Jeanne would tell her employee, Rick, that she was concerned with some behaviors impacting performance and then invite discussion. Jeanne froze. I asked her why it was so difficult. She explained that she, on behalf of her family, recently had confronted her father with his alcohol problem. When I asked the outcome, she explained that it had turned out successfully—her father had sought help and had stayed in recovery—but that the process had been excruciating for her: In addition to having to hurt her father, Jeanne’s mother (after urging Jeanne to take the appropriate action) had accused her of being “too hard” on her father. The pain and guilt had been

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overwhelming. I asked her what parallels existed in the work situation. She saw them immediately—taking the full burden of responsibility, inflicting pain on someone for whom she cared, and being in a position where she could be unsupported. I asked her if she could reframe what she was about to do—to look at it as an act of love that would have a happy ending like her father’s. She said she would try to remember that, and we began the role-play. She immediately became very formal, dispassionately enumerating observations she had made about Rick’s performance. I asked her how she thought he would react to that. She said that Rick would sit quietly and say nothing. We did what she described. I asked Jeanne what she wanted to say next. Jeanne asked “Rick” for his reaction. I asked Jeanne what Rick would say to that. Jeanne said he would probably remain quiet and simply say, “Okay.” We enacted that, and Jeanne became frustrated. “Jeanne, what do you really want to say?” I finally asked. “Don’t think about it, just say it.” Jeanne, with great emotion, blurted out, “What I want to say is, Rick, you are my friend, and I care about you, and I am really worried about you.” There was silence in the room for a moment, and then I asked Jeanne why she thought she could not say exactly that, in exactly that way, to Rick. “Because I’m his supervisor!” she quickly replied. “What makes you think that being his supervisor precludes your demonstrating how much you care about him?” That remark seemed to stun Jeanne for a moment, and then her expression changed. “Do you really think that’s all right?” she asked. “I’m convinced of it,” I replied. In the final version of the role-play, Jeanne was fluid and caring. We agreed that she would hold the meeting with Rick that week.

THE CASE OF JACK (continued) I entered Jack’s office for our scheduled meeting. As I sat down, he did not greet me in his customarily cordial manner. Instead, he said, “I have something to discuss before we begin. Alan has given Edward his yearly performance review, and Edward has challenged it. As Alan’s boss, I must meet with both of them. I had a meeting scheduled to discuss it. I asked Edward to make it earlier, and he said you wanted it scheduled for that day. Now I think you’re going too far. Why should a psychologist be involved in matters relating to performance appraisal discussions?” Jack had become increasingly angry as he spoke. I responded by telling Jack I had agreed to help Edward (whom I was also coaching) prepare for the original meeting. Subsequently, Edward had informed me that Jack had requested that the meeting be moved up, but, upon learning that a preparatory meeting with me was arranged,

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Jack had said to leave it as was. I then said, “There are two things I would like to add. The first is that although I am applying organizational psychology in this setting, I believe the reason I do it well is because I am an experienced executive who has been intimately acquainted with the performance appraisal process—and, if I remember correctly, it was my experience as a senior manager that made you comfortable in hiring me.” Jack nodded. “The second is that I think it is imperative that you ask Edward to come into the room so that the three of us can discuss this and sort it out.” Jack agreed and asked his secretary to call Edward. When she reported that Edward was in a meeting that would conclude in 15 minutes, Jack asked her to tell him to join us then. As soon as she closed the door again, Jack relaxed in his chair and said, “I guess I’m just really nervous about this meeting. It is not something that I like to do.” When I asked him if he had any idea why, he thought for a moment and said, “The only time I ever saw my father cry was when I was a young boy. He and my mother had had an argument. They never argued again.” He paused and then continued, “Maybe that’s the reason that my marriage ended after so many years. I guess there were just too many hurts that remained unresolved.” After another pause, he quietly added, “Too bad,” and sat silently for a few moments. Edward rushed into the room, breathless and with a calculator in his hand. “I wasn’t sure what you needed, so I brought this—just in case.” Jack explained that there seemed to be some miscommunication that needed to be clarified. He asked Edward to repeat the story. His report was identical to what I had described. Jack looked at me and said, “It is exactly what you said. I guess I didn’t hear it very well for some reason.” Edward then asked for 5 minutes to brief Jack on the meeting that had just taken place, did so, and left. We both thanked him. Jack and I spent the remainder of the session talking about what had just happened. I explained the concept of triangulation1 to him and how that applied to this situation and others I had witnessed in which he took part. We discussed what could have happened had I not suggested that we all be in the room— specifically, the lack of trust and animosity that could have developed between Edward and me, between Jack and Edward if this caused him to question Edward, or between Jack and me if it caused him to question me. We applied it to other instances, including the manner in which Edward had, just moments ago, excluded Alan. Jack agreed that he needed to become aware of creating or being ensnared in destructive triangles, and we concluded the session. 1

The process whereby two individuals are pitted against one another by a third individual, for his/her own self-interests. See Smith (1989), listed in this chapter’s bibliography, for a thorough discussion of a case of triangulation.

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ANALYSIS: THE CASES OF KEN, JEANNE, AND JACK In the first example, the executive’s pivotal insight regarding the reenactment of his family-of-origin dynamics was possible as a result of a convergence of multiple factors: a new understanding of boundaries, clarification of organizational role expectations, illumination of unconscious group-as-a-whole demands, awareness of unconscious embedded intergroup relations, the salient group memberships of the consultant, and the consultant’s use of self as tool. The first step toward Ken’s full understanding of the forces impacting him was taken as a result of challenging a negative, but deeply entrenched, belief and reframing it in a way that led to examining the nature of boundaries. He engaged so readily not only because boundary management was a concept to which he could personally relate but also because of its relevance to his prescribed role in the organization. He realized that successful performance had eluded him because, although it required that he and his staff continuously cross departmental boundaries, they could not do so because of the state of the other two departments. These units were embroiled in bitter disputes and finger-pointing and maintained boundaries that were highly impermeable. He concurrently was able to see how and why the organization was reinforcing his inability to function well: By unconsciously endorsing the antagonistic pairing that existed between Ken and his colleague, attention could be deflected from the departmental disputes, and departmental boundaries could remain intact. Furthermore, as long as the pairing continued, organizational members could unconsciously share the fantasy that the ultimate resolution of Ken and his peer’s differences would miraculously create harmony and efficiency throughout. He came to understand that by allowing personal boundary intrusion, he had been unconsciously colluding with the organization, and that, paradoxically, the only way that he could begin to successfully cross other boundaries was by strengthening his own. It was not until Ken became aware of why he was allowing the intrusion, however, that he was able to take definitive steps to reverse it. His understanding was fueled in the subsequent session when the consultant followed her instincts to make her own boundaries more permeable by openly responding to Ken’s questions and by helping to normalize his emerging self-doubt. This modeled for Ken behavior conducive to an environment of intimacy and trust in which it was safe to share personal information. It also facilitated a positive transference to an authority figure whose life path made her vastly different from Ken’s father, his first authority figure, and whose gender made her vastly different from Ken’s subsequent authority figures in the military and in the almost exclusively male advertising firm. The explicit discussion about the consultant’s professional background and experiences provided the transition Ken needed in order to share his own history—which inexorably led him to

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disclose, as much to himself as to the consultant, the hurtful relationship with his brother. His understanding of the parallel in his work environment was instantaneous: a colleague who openly challenged Ken’s trustworthiness and competence and attributed Ken’s success to “good looks and charm” rather than to talent and hard work, and a senior manager old enough to be Ken’s father who, although obviously fond and supportive of Ken, was decidedly conflict averse and would not intervene into the difficulties between his two direct reports. Ken simultaneously became aware of the parental ideals and behaviors that he had unconsciously internalized and was now prepared to reexamine them to determine which he wanted to maintain and which caused him to behave in unproductive ways. After this session, Ken was able to reject the unconscious role he had accepted on behalf of the group and make conscious choices about his actions. He experimented with new behaviors that allowed him to more skillfully challenge his peers, confront substandard performance with his direct reports, and develop his own vision and goals for his department. In the second example, the profound inner change in the executive was the outcome of a series of compelling insights that conjoined with the strength of the alliance with the consultant. The insights centered on organizationally embedded power and authority dynamics, unconscious role enactment on behalf of a regressed work group, and the triggering of family-of-origin defense mechanisms; the alliance was forged through the power of the consultant’s salient group memberships and the ability of the consultant to engage transferential and countertransferential material. In previous sessions, Jeanne had discovered how the formal structure in her organization, with power and authority residing with predominantly male, doctoral-level scientists and researchers, had both formulated the prevailing ideology of the organization—rationality, linearity, and dispassionate inquiry—and had relegated all other groups, including hers, to lesser status. She had become aware of how this reinforced her self-imposed obligation to support and protect her manager, the president of the organization, at all costs. It manifested not only in her obedient completion of numerous special presidential assignments (despite the formidable responsibilities of her formally defined role) but also in her resigned acceptance of others’ perception of her as the “hatchet woman.” She had seen how these actions had catapulted her into her role as the president’s unofficial (and therefore unauthorized) confidante and advisor, thereby placing her in an exceedingly precarious position with the rest of the organization, arousing fear among staff, jealousy among peers, and distrust among professional staff—further reinforcing the negative projections. She also, gradually and somewhat reluctantly, had become conscious of subtle ways in which the president, although vociferous about his desire to

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reinforce the coaching process, was undermining her efforts to change so that he could continue to project his disowned shadow onto another. Jeanne was ready to understand the ways in which she was unconsciously collaborating with the forces around her to keep her imprisoned in her selfdefeating patterns. It came as a result of two factors. First, although Jeanne had been forthright, from the very first meeting, about her father’s alcoholism and the manner in which it was affecting her ability to confront the substance abuse issue at work, it was not until she participated in the role play that she understood the full extent to which her current situation resembled the familial one that had been so painful to her. She was able to see how she unconsciously, and at her own expense, had continued to use the tactics that she had learned as a child caught up in the dynamic of her father’s alcoholism—enabling, care-giving, denial, and the façade of normalcy. Second, because of the strength of the relationship with the consultant, Jeanne was able to experience unconditional love and acceptance from an authority figure in the workplace. This was a first for her. The fact that the authority figure was female, moreover, encouraged her to challenge, at the deepest of levels, the male-based standards of management behavior and career success that she had encountered in all of her previous professional experiences. A seismic shift occurred in Jeanne’s psyche. She was finally able to replace, and thereby internalize, an archetypal “good mother” for those other mothers, both biological and professional, who had consistently disappointed her in the past. She was additionally ready to alter a persona, constructed to adapt to numerous animus-driven work environments, that no longer represented the Self she was discovering. The work that Jeanne and the consultant were doing was, in fact, a parallel process to the work that was to be done with her direct report. Jeanne experienced firsthand the effects of working with compassion. She also became conscious of the forces, both internal and external, that had conspired to prevent her from being who she truly wanted to be. As a direct result, she was prepared to experiment with new behavior, equipped to recognize and more productively counter the resisting forces, and able to integrate and manifest desirable behavior from that point on. In the third case, a here-and-now intervention opened the door to the executive’s self-awareness. Its effectiveness, however, was a consequence of much more than excellent timing; rather, it emanated from the confluence of a number of factors, including recognition of characteristic interactional patterns, identification of repeated defense mechanisms, acknowledgment of the saliency of group memberships, understanding of parallel processes, and the consultant’s use of self as tool, which facilitated the interpretation of archetypal symbols and awareness of messages from her own unconscious.

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When Jack greeted the consultant for his coaching session, it was in a manner quite untypical of their past interactions. In all previous instances, he had been courteous and polite, never showing any sign of anger or irritation (although reports of both had figured prominently in interviews with Jack’s staff). In addition, a frequent pattern had emerged in their discussions. Whenever the consultant introduced a difficult subject identified in the feedback— such as the high percentage of retired military officers in senior management (including Jack) and what seemed to be a concomitant absence of women in professional positions; or the ways in which he was reportedly micromanaging, and thereby disempowering his staff; or the possibility that he was unknowingly contributing to the numerous interpersonal conflicts among staff—he had patiently listened, rationalized the situation, and dismissed the matter. There had been a single exception: Jack had been willing to acknowledge that there was little, if any, positive reinforcement for people in his organization. After some urging by the consultant, he had agreed to initiate a recognition plan for staff. It had been, to Jack’s surprise, extremely valuable. In an attempt to express his gratitude, he had given the consultant a small gift—a Jiminy Cricket puppet. “You are my conscience,” he had told her. She, however, had remembered that Jiminy Cricket was more than Pinocchio’s superego; he had helped the puppet become a real human being. That was the first thought that arose from the consultant’s unconscious when Jack began the meeting. Rather than being offended or intimidated, therefore, the consultant was relieved—Jack, for the first time, was expressing negative emotion in her presence. The meaning of this was augmented by the fact that the anger centered on the consultant’s right to cross a task boundary that Jack had tacitly deemed inappropriate for her. The consultant saw this as a direct parallel to the manner in which he had maintained the impermeability of his psychological boundaries. She chose to challenge him. When she did so, something crucial shifted in Jack. It began with the saliency of the consultant’s group memberships. Now, rather than being a woman entering a bastion of male power and authority or a psychologist relegated to focus attention on the so-called soft issues, what became most prominent was that the consultant was a former business executive. This gave her the right, in Jack’s mind, to involve herself in expanded areas. This, in turn, became the outward manifestation of a far more important inward shift: Jack was finally giving the consultant permission to cross the psychological boundary that he had been protecting since the beginning of their work together. He was now willing to look at himself in a much deeper way, and he disclosed the painful experience that led to his inability to skillfully confront difficult situations. The alliance that was forged in that moment facilitated his ability to

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courageously reexamine his recent behavior, to acknowledge how his attempt to engage the consultant in triangulation was representative of an ongoing interpersonal pattern, and to admit to the highly destructive organizational consequences of his actions. It was at this point that Jack became ready to embrace the process of change.

ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY American Psychiatric Association (1994). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (4th ed.). Washington, DC: Author. See the “Glossary of Specific Defense Mechanisms and Coping Styles” (pp. 755– 757) for a full list and definitions of defense mechanisms. Kanfer, F. H., & Schefft, B. K. (1988). Guiding the process of therapeutic change. Champaign, IL: Research Press. Offers a step-by-step cognitive-behavioral approach to the process of change and a rich source of techniques applicable to coaching. Kilburg, R. R. (2000). Executive coaching: Developing managerial wisdom in a world of chaos. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association. Of particular interest are the chapters on human emotion and cognition, client defenses, and client conflicts. Persons, J. B. (1989). Cognitive therapy in practice: A case formulation approach. New York: W.W. Norton. Chapters 4–8, pp. 58–157. Contains a wide variety of cognitive interventions easily adapted to the coaching setting. Smith, K. K. (1989). The movement of conflict in organizations: The joint dynamics of splitting and triangulation. Administrative Science Quarterly, 34, 1–20. A thorough discussion with a vivid case study demonstrating the effects of triangulation on an organization. Stober, D. R., & Grant, A. M. (Eds.). (2006). Evidence based coaching: Putting best practices to work for your clients. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons. An edited volume presenting executive coaching from humanistic, behavioral, adult development, cognitive, psychoanalytical, integrative, adult learning, positive psychology, cultural, adventure-based, and systemic perspectives.

Phase III. Concluding Coaching Given the complexity of termination processes, it is little wonder that endings … are often confusing, difficult, and fraught with ambivalence. —Vicki Van Steenberg LaFarge (1995)

CH A PT E R 1 2

Outcome Evaluation1

Consultants who have worked with executives, or have themselves held executive positions, can readily attest to the fact that these senior managers and their organizational sponsors want to know that their endeavors have been successful. This is no less true of their efforts in the coaching process than of any other facet of their business lives. Outcome evaluation, then, is a vital aspect of the coaching process. Consultants who have made, or wish to make, significant contributions to the field can readily attest to the fact that if executive coaching is ever to take up its place as a recognized profession, it will need to be supported by a substantive body of empirical research that encompasses the scientific substantiation of coaching efficacy. While developing accepted evaluation methodologies is receiving greater attention, there are few studies that provide the basis for deeper empirical investigation. Outcome evaluation, then, is a vital avenue for further research. One of the most powerful differentiators of the approach presented in this book is that it concerns itself with measuring efficacy and outcomes. It does so not only by integrating evaluation into the coaching process from its inception, but also by providing a framework for statistically sound measures capable of contributing to the empirical base of research.

METHOD 1: OBJECTIVES As discussed in Chapter 10, objectives and objectives setting are an inherent part of the coaching process. If articulated well, they provide the basis on 1

An earlier version of the material in this chapter appears in Orenstein, R. L. (2006). Measuring executive coaching efficacy? The answer was right here all the time. Consulting Psychology Journal: Practice and Research, 58(2), 106–116. Copyright 2006 by the American Psychological Association. All sections and tables taken from that article are adapted or reprinted with permission.

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which all those involved in coaching have a vehicle with which to measure progress and ultimate success. The ease, simplicity, and familiarity of objectives as a measure of performance make evaluation accessible at any point in the coaching process, and, as such, the method is readily embraced by coaching clients. When objectives become the measure of choice, the outcome evaluation occurs within the planned scope of the coaching contract in the form of the final meeting among the client, the client’s manager, and the consultant (see Chapter 13). If these individuals agree that the objectives have been achieved, the coaching assignment is considered successful, and the coaching work is considered concluded. Clearly, this is the most subjective of the methods and the one least likely to be considered a science. It is, however, the method most frequently used in practice, primarily owing to its ease of use and resemblance to other organizational performance measures.

METHOD 2: INTERVIEWS It is sometimes the case that a client, or the client’s manager, wishes to have wider validation of coaching outcomes and requests that the 360-degree process be repeated in whole or part. Themes that emerge from the second series of interviews can be compared to the original in order to examine degrees of change, and emerging themes can be examined to determine if additional developmental work is needed. If the coaching engagement has spanned a 9- to 12-month period, a long enough time frame for perceptions to have changed for those not actively involved in the process, the contract can be extended, and the interviews can be conducted before the conclusion of the coaching engagement. If the span of time from the previous interviews is less than 9 months, the interviews take place after the coaching assignment has concluded, and a new contract is created. Repeating the interview process undeniably increases the reliability of outcome evaluation. Additionally, if interviewees who were not part of the original process are added and the interviewer is someone other than the consultant who provided the coaching, reliability is further ensured by mitigating bias from those with a direct investment in positive outcomes. This method, while attractive in terms of its strength in corroborating outcomes, is selected less frequently by clients because of the additional time and costs involved.

METHOD 3: THE EMPATHIC ORGANIC QUESTIONNAIRE When a client wishes to have statistically sound evidence of coaching outcomes and efficacy, there currently exists no tool more relevant than the Empathic Organic Questionnaire (Alderfer & Brown, 1972; Orenstein, 2006).

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Encompassing the most rigorous of both qualitative and quantitative research methodologies, it is an instrument whose content is derived from qualitative interviews but which lends itself to quantitative statistical analysis through a five-stage process: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Designing the instrument. Selecting the respondents. Administering the questionnaire. Analyzing the data. Evaluating results.

Designing the Instrument There are seven steps in designing the questionnaire: 1. Based on a review of the client’s feedback report, coaching objectives, and coaching focus, broad areas for examination are selected. 2. Exact quotes and phrases pertinent to the identified areas are extracted from the qualitative interviews conducted at the start of the executive coaching process. 3. The quotes and phrases are converted into questionnaire items by expressing a single thought for each, presenting each thought positively and negatively to eliminate bias (Miller & Fagley, 1991), and selecting an equal number of items for each area. 4. To enhance statistical soundness, additional methods for arriving at the data are then added (Campbell & Fiske, 1959): To strengthen reliability and convergent validity, an open-ended question is included; to ensure discriminant validity and to counteract the demand characteristic caused by retrospective ratings, a control category consisting of items for which change was neither desired nor sought is added. 5. To further eliminate bias, the order of all items is randomly mixed. 6. The items are converted to past tense and again randomly reordered. 7. The final instrument is organized into past- and present-tense versions (see Appendix E).

Selecting the Respondents The respondents are selected so as to constitute a representative sample of the universe of relevant others. The sample should be large enough to ensure adequate degrees of freedom for later statistical calculations2 and to include

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relevant others who are unbiased by previous participation, while also being an acceptable number for the organization. Respondents are selected by the client, in consultation with the consultant, and should include the original interviewees and additional individuals selected for diversity in age, gender, race, ethnicity, and hierarchical level, so as to represent the demographics of the client’s organization.

Administering the Questionnaire The client contacts the respondents to request participation in the evaluation process and to notify them that a consultant will be calling. In order to avoid bias, the questionnaire is administered by a consultant whom the respondents have not previously met. In order to assure completion, the consultant calls each respondent to arrange an individual appointment, asking that the respondent secure a private room in order to complete the questionnaire. At the scheduled time, the consultant reviews the procedure with the respondent, including both the voluntary nature of participation and the manner in which confidentiality will be safeguarded, gives each respondent the instrument and an unmarked envelope in which to seal it, and waits outside the room until the respondent emerges with the completed questionnaire in the sealed envelope.

Analyzing the Data When all the questionnaires are collected, the open-ended data in each document is reviewed and compared to the numerical responses for validation purposes (i.e., to make certain that positive responses match positive statements, and vice versa). All open-ended data are then copied verbatim to a separate document. Next, each of the past-tense items is matched to the corresponding present-tense item. Negatively worded items are reverse scored in order to achieve numerical consistency for analytical purposes. A paired samples t-test at an alpha level of .05 is performed on all items.

Evaluating Results The results of the t-tests are examined in three categories. The first category is composed of those items directly related to the coaching objectives; the second category consists of those items indirectly related to the coaching 2

For a complete discussion of degrees of freedom, reliability, and confidence intervals, readers are directed to Keppel, G., Saufley, W. H., Jr., & Tokunaga, H. (1983). Introduction to design and analysis: A student’s handbook (2nd ed.). New York: W. H. Freeman; and Cohen & Cohen (1983). Applied Multiple Regression/Correlation Analysis for the Behavioral Sciences (2nd ed.). New Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum.

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objectives; and the third category comprises the control items, considered unrelated to the coaching objectives. A predominance of significant items in the first category, fewer significant items in the second category, and none in the third indicate that coaching outcomes have been achieved. For those seriously interested in the soundness of outcome evaluation, the benefits of using the empathic organic questionnaire are obvious. Nonetheless, there are factors that must be carefully considered. First and foremost, the methodology is entirely reliant on a comprehensive process that supports it. Therefore, none of the preceding interrelated elements of multidimensional coaching can be eliminated, particularly the following: conducting in-depth qualitative interviews with relevant participants that ultimately provide the content for the organic instrument, involve the respondents in the client’s process of change, and enable the development of relationships that will increase the likelihood of willing participation in postcoaching assessment; intensive feedback aggregated from the interview data that will provide the broad areas for later evaluation; and the formulation of specific coaching objectives and outcome criteria that are the basis of the statistical analysis. Second, the method requires more of the consultant than effective practice skills. An understanding of research design and statistical analysis is essential. Equally significant is the obligation to take an investigative and reflective stance in relation to one’s own work, and thereby to be willing to accept, with brutal honesty, when that work has not been effective and when it must be refined, transformed, or even abandoned in favor of more efficacious approaches. The third factor involves the rigors of instrument design and administration. The content for the organic questionnaire, by its very nature and what it seeks to measure, cannot be standardized, even when individuals being coached are part of the same client system. It must be constructed on a case-by-case basis, each time following the requirements for statistical validity. In addition, to ensure reliability, it must be administered in such a way as to maximize willing participation from selected respondents who constitute a representative sample of the universe of relevant others. It is thus a time-consuming and labor-intensive tool, and all those involved must believe in the worthiness of the evaluation effort. The case that concludes this chapter demonstrates a situation in which those involved were convinced of the value of the Empathic Organic Questionnaire and committed to engage in the process.

THE CASE OF HENRY The request to work with Henry, a senior executive in a large state agency, came from his immediate manager. The latter explained that the client had flagrantly dismissed the results of a recently conducted 360-degree assessment that had

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indicated, in addition to weakness in the areas of communication, interpersonal relations, and motivation, that Henry’s self-evaluation in all areas was considerably higher than those of his peers, subordinates, and manager. The manager also described the client as arrogant, domineering, and defensive. When I met with Henry, he was cold and aloof. He stated that the assessment had been of no value to him because, while the results of the standardized instrument indicated what people thought, it explained neither why they arrived at their conclusions nor how he could improve. Furthermore, his manager had chosen the respondents and would not identify them, so Henry was precluded from speaking with them to discover the answers to his questions. He had concluded that the results were meaningless because he assumed they had been skewed by one individual on his staff with whom he had had significant problems for many years. Interactions with his manager had become strained over the course of the previous year, so communication had been limited between them, and their meeting to discuss the results had worsened their relationship. He was unwilling to undergo any similar assessment process. When I described the process that I used, Henry became more responsive. He quickly recognized how the approach differed from the experience he had recently undergone. He decided, albeit still with some skepticism, to engage in executive coaching. He selected 15 people, including senior managers, peers, subordinates, and customers, with whom the interviews were to be conducted, and the assessment phase began. The feedback that I shared with Henry after the interview data had been aggregated and analyzed was revelatory to him. He was disappointed (and more than a little surprised) that it corroborated some of the standardized data and that it could not be attributed to a single disgruntled employee, but he was relieved that he could ask questions and learn the underlying reasons for the findings. In addition, he was gratified to learn of the strengths that had been identified and that they could be leveraged during the coaching phase. He also seemed fascinated by the explanation of organizational and group forces that had surfaced over the course of the interviews. The coaching objectives he formulated fell within the originally identified areas of motivation, communication, and interpersonal skills but were much more specific: To increase recognition of staff; to become more approachable, caring and patient; and to eliminate public criticism, fear, and intimidation. During the intensive coaching that followed, Henry remained highly motivated. An initial reluctance to divulge any personal information to me disappeared after the feedback session, and we were able to discuss how systemic forces were triggering unconscious and self-defeating patterns. Our interactions, which had previously caused me to question whether a successful working alliance could

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be established, now evoked compassion and empathy. This mirrored the positive responses he was receiving from his staff, including many of those who had been involved in the interview process. They reinforced his efforts, and he was excited and pleased. At the end of 6 months, Henry felt confident that he had achieved the stated coaching objectives, and we met with his manager for his confirmation. The latter agreed that he had seen dramatic differences in Henry’s behavior and expressed a desire to conduct another 360-degree assessment that would provide some quantitative indication of outcomes. When I described the organic questionnaire and suggested using it in place of the standardized instrument, both Henry and the manager readily agreed. We decided to wait another 6 months before conducting the evaluation in order to make certain that the behavior changes, and perceptions about them, were permanent. When it was time to construct the questionnaire, I reviewed Henry’s feedback report, his coaching objectives, and our focus throughout coaching. The data indicated that emphasis should be placed on outcomes in the areas of motivation, communication, and interpersonal skills. Direct quotes and phrases relevant to the identified areas were extracted from the 15 qualitative interviews conducted at the start of the executive coaching process. The control category consisted of the items considered strengths, which we had not sought to change in any way during the coaching process (see Figure 12.1 for the final version of the instrument). Before beginning the evaluation, Henry and I identified 20 respondents— the original 15 and 5 additional individuals selected for appropriate diversity. This resulted in a respondent group representative of the demographics of his organization: 12 males (10 Whites, 1 African-American, 1 Hispanic) ranging in age from 26 to 63 and 8 females (3 Whites, 2 African-Americans, and 2 Hispanics) ranging in age from 32 to 52, representing levels from first-line supervisor through vice president. Henry called the respondents to request participation in the evaluation process and to notify them that a consultant would be calling. The questionnaire was administered by my business partner, whom the respondents had not previously met. Tables 12.1 through 12.4 show the results of the analysis. In the first category, those items directly related to coaching objectives, 15 of the 19 items were significant, 6 at an alpha level of .05, 6 at an alpha level of .01, and 3 at an alpha level of .001. In the second category, items indirectly related, 4 of the 11 items were significant, 2 at an alpha level of .05 and 2 at an alpha level of .01. In the third category, the control, none of the items were significant. Both Henry and I were thrilled with the results; his manager was fully satisfied that Henry had achieved his objectives; and the coaching, in this case, was considered a proven success.

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Figure 12.1* EXECUTIVE COACHING EVALUATION Dear Evaluator: The purpose of this evaluation is to discover the effects, if any, of executive coaching on the behaviors of those who undergo the process. Therefore, your perceptions in the present and the past are crucial. This evaluation has four sections: •

Section I asks you to reflect on your interactions with XXXX approximately 9–12 months ago and to describe his professional behavior at that time.

•

Section II contains a series of statements about past behaviors. Please indicate the extent to which you agree or disagree with each in relation to XXXX.

•

Section III asks you to reflect on your interactions with XXXX currently and to describe his professional behavior at the present time.

•

Section IV contains the same statements about present behaviors. Again, please indicate the extent to which you agree or disagree with each in relation to XXXX.

All of your responses will be treated with complete confidentially. Thank you very much for providing this information.

* From “Measuring Executive Coaching Efficacy” by R.L. Orenstein, Consulting Psychology Journal, 58 (2), p. 111. Copyright 2006 by the American Psychological Association. Reprinted with permission.

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Section I Directions: Please reflect on your interactions with XXXX approximately 9 to 12 months ago. In the space below, briefly describe what XXXX was like as a professional. Then, please answer the questions in the following sections.

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Section II Directions: Please indicate to what extent you agree or disagree with the following statements about XXXX as they describe his behavior approximately 9–12 months ago. Please place a check mark in the appropriate box. Key: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Disagree completely Disagree somewhat Neither agree nor disagree Agree somewhat Agree completely 1

1. He backed me up when I made a mistake. 2. He behaved in unpredictable ways. 3. He belittled me. 4. He cared about me. 5. I found him personable and approachable. 6. I noticed that his moods changed quickly. 7. He demonstrated strong organizational skills. 8. He did not value my opinion. 9. He got the job done. 10. He gave me credit when I did a good job. 11. I considered him a visionary. 12. I considered him a bully. 13. He gave the right job to the right person. 14. He hindered me from growing professionally. 15. He interrupted me when I spoke. 16. He was fair to me. 17. He helped me be the best I could be. 18. I saw him criticize others in public.

2

3

4

5

Outcome Evaluation

Key: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 1 19. He was impatient with me 20. He was cold to me. 21. He was not interested in details. 22. I didn’t know how to read him. 23. I enjoyed his sense of humor. 24. He was not there when I needed him. 25. He was not visible to customers. 26. He was straightforward and clear in our communications. 27. He isolated himself from his staff. 28. He listened when I spoke to him. 29. He talked above my level. 30. He welcomed it when I challenged him. 31. I was afraid to be honest with him. 32. I considered him opinionated. 33. He did not hold a grudge. 34. I found him easy to get along with. 35. I observed him leading by example. 36. He intimidated me. 37. I saw him get upset quickly. 38. I trusted him. 39. When I met with him, I was on guard. 40. He set high standards of performance.

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3

4

5

130


Section III Directions: Please reflect on your interactions with XXXX currently. In the space below, briefly describe what XXXX is like as a professional. Then, please answer the questions in the following sections.

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Section IV Directions: Please indicate to what extent you agree or disagree with the following statements about XXXX as they describe his behavior currently. Please place a check mark in the appropriate box. Key: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.


1. He gives the right job to the right person. 2. I find him personable and approachable. 3. He is not interested in details. 4. He is fair to me. 5. He isolates himself from his staff. 6. He listens when I speak to him. 7. He is not there when I need him. 8. I observe him leading by example. 9. I find him easy to get along with. 10. He helps me be the best I can be. 11. He hinders me from growing professionally. 12. He behaves in unpredictable ways. 13. When I meet with him, I am on guard. 14. He gives me credit when I do a good job. 15. I am afraid to be honest with him. 16. I see him criticize others in public. 17. I trust him. 18. I consider him opinionated. 19. I notice that his moods change quickly.

2

3

4

5

132


Key: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.


20. He is impatient with me. 21. I don’t know how to read him. 22. I enjoy his sense of humor. 23. He cares about me. 24. I consider him a visionary. 25. I consider him a bully. 26. He demonstrates strong organizational skills. 27. He interrupts me when I speak. 28. He does not value my opinion. 29. He backs me up when I make a mistake. 30. He welcomes it when I challenge him. 31. He intimidates me. 32. He sets high standards of performance. 33. He belittles me. 34. He is straightforward and clear in our communications. 35. I see him get upset quickly. 36. He is not visible to customers. 37. He is cold to me. 38. He does not hold a grudge. 39. He talks above my level. 40. He gets the job done.

2

3

4

5

Outcome Evaluation TABLE 12.1.

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Behaviors Directly Related to Coaching Objectives Mean past

Mean present

N

P

He belittles me. (R) He cares about me. I find him personable and approachable. He does not value my opinion. (R) He gives me credit when I do a good job. I consider him a bully. (R) He interrupts me when I speak. (R) He helps me be the best I can be. I see him criticize others in public. (R) He is impatient with me. (R) He is cold to me. (R) I don’t know how to read him. (R)

3.8 2.7 2.8 3.4 3.7 2.9 2.7 3.2 2.6 2.3 3.2 2.7

4.1 3.6 4.1 3.7 4.2 3.8 3.5 3.8 4.2 3.6 4.6 3.7

18 18 20 19 18 18 19 19 17 19 20 19

.38 .01** .00** .43 .01* .00** .00*** .02* .00*** .00*** .01** .00**

He is not there when I need him. (R) He isolates himself from his staff. (R) He listens when I speak to him. He welcomes it when I challenge him. I am afraid to be honest with him. (R) He intimidates me. (R)

3.8 3.5 3.7 2.8 3.8 3.4

4.3 4.4 4.2 3.2 4.3 3.8

19 19 20 18 20 20

.04* .03* .04* .05* .07 .23

When I meet with him, I am on guard. (R)

2.9

3.9

19

.00**

Item

Source: From “Measuring Executive Coaching Efficacy” by R. L. Orenstein, Consulting Psychology Journal, 58(2), p. 111. Copyright 2006 by the American Psychological Association. Reprinted with permission. (R) indicates reverse scored item. *p < .05. **p < .01. ***p < .001.

TABLE 12.2.

Behaviors Indirectly Related to Coaching Objectives Mean past

Mean present

N

p

He behaves in unpredictable ways. (R)

3.1

3.5

18

.36

I notice that his moods change quickly. (R)

2.6

3.4

18

.08

He is fair to me.

3.8

4.1

20

.08

Item

He is not interested in details. (R)

2.1

2.6

19

.04*

He is not visible to customers. (R)

3.4

4.2

19

.01*

He talks above my level. (R)

4.1

4.3

19

.27

I consider him opinionated. (R)

1.8

2.1

18

.24

(Continued)

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TABLE 12.2. (Continued) Item

Mean past

Mean present

N

p

3.4

3.7

19

.40

He does not hold a grudge. I find him easy to get along with.

3.3

3.6

20

.27

I observe him leading by example.

3.6

4.2

18

.00**

I see him get upset quickly. (R)

2.2

3.7

18

.00**

Source: From “Measuring Executive Coaching Efficacy” by R. L. Orenstein, Consulting Psychology Journal, 58(2), p. 111. Copyright 2006 by the American Psychological Association. Reprinted with permission. (R) indicates reverse scored item. *p < .05. **p < .01.

TABLE 12.3.

Strengths (Control Category) Mean past

Mean present

N

p

He backs me up when I make a mistake.

3.6

3.8

18

.24

He demonstrates strong organizational skills.

4.8

4.8

20

1.00

He gets the job done.

4.6

4.6

19

1.00

Item

I consider him a visionary.

3.9

4.2

17

.08

He gives the right job to the right person.

3.9

4.2

18

.22

He hinders me from growing professionally. (R)

3.8

4.2

18

.11

I enjoy his sense of humor.

3.7

3.8

18

.50

He is straightforward and clear in our communications.

4.1

4.4

20

.08

I trust him.

3.7

3.9

20

.23

He sets high standards of performance.

4.6

4.5

19

.58

Source: From “Measuring Executive Coaching Efficacy” by R. L. Orenstein, Consulting Psychology Journal, 58(2), p. 111. Copyright 2006 by the American Psychological Association. Reprinted with permission. (R) indicates reverse scored item.

Outcome Evaluation TABLE 12.4.

Mean Differences by Category Mean past

Mean present

Mean difference

Directly related

3.1

4.0

0.9

Indirectly related

3.0

3.6

0.6

Control

4.1

4.2

0.1

Category

135

Source: From “Measuring Executive Coaching Efficacy” by R. L.Orenstein, Consulting Psychology Journal, 58(2), p. 111. Copyright 2006 by the American Psychological Association. Reprinted with permission.

ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY Alderfer, C. P. & Brown, L. D. (1972). Designing an “empathic questionnaire” for organizational research. Journal of Applied Psychology, 56, 456–460. The original work and well worth reading. Campbell, D. T. & Fiske, D. W. (1959). Convergent & discriminant validation by the multi-trait multi-method matrix. Psychological Bulletin, 56, 81–105. Required reading for those using qualitative methodology who are also interested in statistical reliability and validity. Isaac, S. & Michael, W. B. (1995). Handbook in research and evaluation: A collection of principles, methods, and strategies useful in the planning, design, and evaluation of studies in education and the behavioral sciences (3rd ed.). San Diego, CA: EdITS. A review of the fundamentals of research design and methodology, intentionally written for clarity and brevity.

CH A PT E R 1 3


There are three ways in which coaching can end: (1) as a planned and essential step in the process of achieving objectives, (2) as a result of the expiration of the contract, or (3) through unexpected early termination. Each of these outcomes has important implications and must be handled with the same sensitivity and thoughtfulness as any other aspect of the work. The happiest of reasons for ending coaching is, of course, attainment of coaching objectives. When it becomes apparent that the client is close to achieving objectives, preparation for ending the work begins. The consultant recommends that longer periods of time elapse between scheduled meetings, thereby allowing the client to self-manage, while still providing positive reinforcement. If the client maintains the behavior change for several months, the consultant suggests that it is time to conclude coaching. If the client agrees, the evaluation meeting with the client’s manager is held. Together, the client, the client’s manager, and the consultant discuss observable outcomes, the need for continuous reinforcement by the manager, and further developmental opportunities. Subsequently, in the final meeting between the client and the consultant, the most significant learnings are reviewed and documented, and the consultant suggests that the client review them on a regularly scheduled basis. The meeting ends with a reminder that the client can feel free to call the consultant at any time in the future, that development is a lifelong endeavor, and that the need for future support should be perceived not as a failure but as a tool for further growth. The consultant might also wish to share his/her appreciation for the opportunity to work with the client. The expiration of contracted coaching hours may or may not coincide with the successful attainment of objectives, but it is another manner in which the process can end. One of the purposes of the contract is that it provides a target time frame for completion. As such, it may actually act as 137

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an impetus for the client to take more risks in experimenting with change while the consultant is still present; it may also be a way in which an unproductive coaching assignment may be terminated (see Chapter 14). When the end of the contract is approaching, the consultant reminds the client of the remaining hours. If the consultant believes that there is value in continuing the work, there is discussion about whether the client feels ready to end coaching. If the client wishes to continue, authorization is obtained, and the contract is amended to reflect updated time frames. If there is no perceived benefit in extending coaching, discussion focuses on what will be accomplished in the remaining time. The content of both the evaluation meeting with the client’s manager and the final meeting centers on alternative developmental opportunities for the client. The third way in which the coaching process may conclude is through early termination. When the consultant is an active participant in early termination, it is usually because he/she views the coaching as untenable because of an intractable system, client, or process (see Chapter 14). The suggestion that coaching should end is made to the client, with the reasons why. If the client agrees, together the consultant and client discuss the most appropriate way to conclude; if the client does not agree, the very act of suggesting termination may prove to be an effective intervention (see Chapter 13). When, on the other hand, the consultant is surprised by early termination, it is usually because something has abruptly changed (e.g., the client has been terminated or suddenly leaves the organization, the client’s sponsor changes and will not support coaching, etc.). The consultant may attempt to contact the client for a final meeting but may be forced to accept the finality of the situation as it exists. In addition, there are times when the client terminates abruptly—either by discussing it with the consultant or by consistently canceling appointments or refusing to return calls. Perhaps he/she finds the coaching process too difficult, does not believe it is possible to change, simply does not relate well to the consultant, or, in the case of seemingly successful work and a strong alliance, the ending process is too painful. Here, it is absolutely essential that the consultant attempt to engage the client in discussion to determine if this is an indirect plea for help, a predicable form of resistance, or a legitimate desire to disengage from a nonproductive endeavor. If the client refuses to meet, the consultant is forced to accept the finality of the situation. What must never be underestimated in any of these cases is the impact on both the client and the consultant. Strong alliances and successful outcomes make for poignant conclusions, unsuccessful outcomes cause disappointment and regret, and early terminations can be frustrating and perplexing. During the conclusion of coaching, in whatever form, the consultant must be


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ever vigilant to the need to manage strong emotions—both the client’s and his/her own.

THE CASE OF JEANNE (continued and concluded) Jeanne started the session by reporting that she liked who she was becoming at work—a more tolerant, kinder person. She was making a conscious effort to pause to consider alternatives before making decisions, particularly when she felt herself under pressure for a quick response. She described several instances in which she had told colleagues that she would have to think about what she had heard and would get back to them, as well as several examples of allowing her subordinates to generate their own alternatives and decisions while she coached them through the process. She said she had realized that it was not only more effective but also more efficient to allow others the time to make their own decisions and to allow herself the time to be objective in her decision making. She also mentioned that she had discovered how important it was to take some time for herself each day, and had begun to awaken a half hour earlier than her family to take time to be alone with her thoughts. At the end of the meeting, she asked for advice on how to sustain what she was feeling and how to channel some of the frustrations that she knew would continue to arise. We talked about things that had been pleasurable for her in the past, and she decided to become involved with a regular running and yoga regimen. When I reminded her that, based on the contractual agreement, we should be preparing to conclude our work, she told me that she was not yet ready. Despite my assurance that she no longer needed me, she was visibly relieved when we agreed that she would request her manager’s approval to extend our work together. We scheduled our next meeting for 3 weeks later. Her manager readily agreed and called me to confirm the extension but wanted me to know that he already considered the coaching assignment a great success, enumerating the ways in which he had seen changes in Jeanne’s behavior. I asked him if he had had that discussion with her, and he assured me that he would schedule a time to do so. That next meeting did, in fact, turn out to be our last. When I entered the room, Jeanne stood, came from behind her desk, and hugged me. She sat and said, “Well, I don’t really have anything troubling me. Things are still crazy here, but I feel in control and relaxed.” I told her that I was delighted but not surprised. I again suggested that we had completed our work together. This time she agreed, telling me that she had already met with her manager and that he, too, agreed that her objectives had been met. Without being prompted, she summarized how she felt, giving specific examples. First, she

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no longer felt overwhelmed. She was now able to say no to work requested by the president “even if it takes a day to think about how to say it.” She was able to do “good enough” rather than perfect work on some things. She was better able to confront issues with her staff as they happened. She found herself able to “pick my battles.” She found herself being easier on herself and wasn’t using “stupid” to describe herself to herself any longer—or was at least aware of how often she had done so in the past. She was able to be patient to do things right, even if it meant delaying some of them. She was taking walks with her son, running, and going to yoga regularly. And, most important, she felt able to show her humanity—even giving herself permission to “lose it” occasionally and quickly apologize. She concluded by sharing her feelings about the process: “It was incremental. You allowed me to go at my own pace, and I never felt like I was falling off a cliff. You also helped me to see what I couldn’t change: ‘This is the organization. This is you. You can learn to cope with what exists, rather than trying to force the situation to change.’ And one of the neatest parts of this is that I’ve been working with someone with whom I’d like to be friends.” Before leaving, I told Jeanne that she could feel free to call me if she needed me again—and that doing so was not a failure. As I rose, she hugged me for a second time, and we said good-bye. As I left the building, I knew that I was experiencing both joy and pain—the simultaneous emotions that come from letting go.

ANALYSIS: THE CASE OF JEANNE In this case, it was clear to the consultant, and reinforced by the conversation with the client’s manager, that the client had achieved her objectives within the time parameters of the contract. The client, however, did not feel confident enough to proceed on her own. Simply the knowledge that the time could be extended allowed her the freedom to continue to experiment with her new behaviors. As she did so, something new occurred—her behaviors became self-correcting and self-reinforcing. Once she was able to nonjudgmentally self-reflect on her behaviors and their outcomes, she became her own coach. In doing so, moreover, she was able to do the same for her staff and in her interactions with her manager. She had internalized the very essence of the coaching process and no longer needed an external coach.

PA RT I I I

Multidimensional Executive Coaching: Practical Considerations

If we do not try to think through in advance the ethical implications of commitments we make, we are bound to get trapped into actions dictated by expediency. In this way, we can lose the trust of people in the field and even come to mistrust ourselves. —William Foote Whyte (1984)

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Identifying Potential Coaching Failures: When to Decline or Exit a Coaching Engagement

Even the most effective of executive consulting processes cannot counteract three factors that, taken together or separately, are virtually guaranteed to result in consulting failures: (1) a client who is unwilling and/or unable to change, (2) an organization that is unwilling and/or unable to support the coaching process, and (3) a consultant who is an inappropriate match for the client and/or the client system. Knowing when to decline a potential coaching engagement or exit from an existing one is a critical consulting skill, and this chapter is written in an effort to help consultants identify those situations.

FACTORS IN THE CLIENT The Client Does Not See the Need to Change This happens quite frequently when coaching is foisted on the client by wellintentioned others. Frequently, a client’s manager has been unsuccessful in addressing a developmental need with the client, or a human resources group desires to provide coaching throughout the organization. If the client is not motivated, however, the coaching process will be futile. Example: A senior manager was asked to work with me as part of a leadership training program for the top 100 executives in the company. He informed me that he had no need for coaching, had been successful doing exactly what he was doing for 30 years, and had seen training programs come and go. Despite my best efforts 143

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to discuss his identified developmental needs, the client was not interested in engaging in the effort.

The Client Is Not Capable of Changing Self-reflection is a fundamental requirement for change. When a client lacks the capacity or desire to observe his/her own actions and their impact and consequences, coaching cannot be successful. Most frequently, there are two causes for the incapacity to self-reflect: character disorders and/or rigid defense mechanisms. When an individual suffers from a narcissistic personality disorder or a psychopathic personality disorder, there is an absence of an observing ego (the ability to observe oneself) and/or a wellfunctioning superego (the center of moral fiber and conscience). If a client suffers from either of these disorders, no matter how highly functioning he or she may be, coaching is doomed to failure. When any client consistently defends against self-reflection through the rigid use of denial, splitting, distortion, projection, or projective identification, coaching cannot be successful. Example: A department head had alienated all of his peers by the time his manager asked me to work with him. The client expressed complete willingness to engage in coaching but assured me I would discover that the only real problem was that he was smarter and more competent than everyone around him. Throughout the feedback, objective setting, and coaching, he agreed to put into practice everything I suggested, did none of it, and continued to vehemently attack the actions of those around him.

The Client Has Ulterior Motives for Engaging in Coaching When a client engages in coaching for any other reason than to change his/ her own behavior, coaching will fail. Some of these reasons are to appease someone else, to prove that someone else is to blame, or to gain status or attention. Example: A client’s peer, who previously had been part of the client’s 360-degree interview process, made repeated requests to her manager for her own coaching. When the latter finally agreed and I began the process, this new client was extremely motivated. The feedback session, however, greatly upset her. She did not know that she had any developmental needs, and when they were identified, she threatened to leave the organization.

Identifying Potential Coaching Failures

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FACTORS IN THE ORGANIZATION Lack of Support for the Client If relevant others, especially the client’s manager, do not support the client, it is impossible to appropriately contract, to engage in assessment and objectives setting, and ultimately, to sustain change. This lack of support can take many forms—insufficient financial resources, limited time, incomplete information, or outright refusal to be of help—but all seriously jeopardize the coaching success. Example: A new client was very eager to begin coaching, and a day after our initial meeting, she had prepared the interview list and contacted all those individuals on it. It took 6 months to complete the interviews: Several individuals were difficult to reach and did not return e-mails or calls, a number of interviewees rescheduled three or four times, and one was called to a meeting 10 minutes before the scheduled time and could not be reached for another appointment. Many of the interviewees did not “feel comfortable” answering some questions.

Lack of Support for the Coaching Process When a demand is made by the client organization that some aspect of the coaching process be eliminated or substantively modified, the assignment is at risk. Typically, these demands center on limiting or eliminating entirely the qualitative interview process, sharing confidential information, or changing the scope of the work. Example: The head of organizational development for a large corporation asked to meet with me to discuss my approach to coaching. After I described the details of my approach to her, she informed me that the organization had developed its own 360-degree instrument and did not believe in paying consultants to do redundant work. She also informed me that the company only hired coaches who met with representatives of her department and clients’ managers on a monthly basis to review the client’s status and evaluate the client’s progress in meeting the stated objectives.

Abrogation of Managerial Responsibilities It is all too commonly the case that a manager lacks either the skill or the inclination to address performance issues and arranges for a coach to

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do that work with someone who reports to him/her. In this situation, the pressing need for coaching is not with the identified client but with the manager. Example: The human resources director of a client organization called to request that I work with a department head whose manager had “given up” on him. I asked why, and the director responded with a long list of the manager’s complaints. When I asked if the manager had discussed these with the prospective client, I was told that the manager did not like to confront unpleasant issues.

Ulterior Motives An organization can attempt to use coaching for inappropriate reasons, such as assessing the client for promotion, finding justification to terminate the client, or avoiding litigation. Coaching is a vehicle for a client’s development; using it for any other purpose is highly inadvisable and puts the client, the consultant, and the organization itself at risk. Example: The executive director of a large nonprofit agency asked me to work with the head of its most high-profile department. During my meeting with the prospective client, the director called and asked that I stop by his office before leaving. When I did so, he told me that he wanted to know my assessment of the client. I told him that I could not share that information with him, but that I thought I could work with the client. The director became visibly agitated and told me that he had to determine whether he should terminate the client and that he needed my opinion as quickly as possible. When I explained that if that was what he required, he would be better served hiring a consultant who specialized in management assessment, he became quite angry and told me that he, too, was the client.

Unconscious Group Dynamics Group-as-a-whole forces often result in clients unconsciously taking up roles on behalf of a group. If the forces are powerful enough, they will undermine any attempts by the client to reject the role and concomitantly to change behavior. Example: My client, a highly respected, admired, and very outspoken executive within a national not-for-profit institution, had encountered some difficulties dealing with the new president. She had realized, through our coaching, that she was being used by her peer group to disagree with the president when no one else would speak up. She practiced remaining silent when issues arose so that others


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would address them. Within a short period of time, she became the repeated target of her peer group’s anger and blame.

Unconscious Systemic Forces When an organization is in denial about its pernicious systemic issues (e.g., racial, gender, religious, or ethnic biases; illegal practices; power and authority abuses; etc.) and a client is enmeshed in them, there is little chance that coaching can be successful. Example: In the same week, I was contacted by two different managers from an organization in the midst of a gender-based class action suit. Each of the managers, both male, had identified a female direct report in his group who needed coaching. The first female executive was considered too aggressive in her manner—she was described as intimidating and authoritarian. The second was considered too weak—she was described as too collaborative and polite.

Constant Organizational Turmoil When an organization is in continuous flux, when structural and personnel changes are constant, and when there is perpetual instability, there is no relevant context in which coaching can occur. When a client faces the probability of constantly shifting roles, expectations, reporting lines, and relationships, coaching becomes the vehicle with which to deal with keeping the self intact rather than a planned program of personal change. Example: While involved in coaching, a client received a much desired promotion. Two weeks later, his position was layered, and he found himself with curtailed responsibilities reporting to a former peer. Two months later, his original manager (with whom coaching objectives were defined) was terminated, and the former peer to whom he was currently reporting was transferred to a different division. He was assigned to another former peer who had had no exposure to him while he was engaged in his coaching work.

FACTORS IN THE CONSULTANT Inappropriate Expertise The term “executive coaching” has gradually taken on the broadest possible meaning, encompassing any support or assistance that a manager receives

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from any other individual, internal or external. It is therefore imperative that consultants who provide executive coaching services be clear about their particular areas of expertise. For example, a management consultant whose expertise is finance is not prepared to coach a manager who is having interpersonal difficulty, nor is a psychologist with no training in business prepared to assist a manager with marketing strategy. Just as important is the delineation of the hierarchical level with which a consultant works most effectively. Working with CEOs to improve their performance is substantively different from working with first-line managers. Example: The president of a small company, pleased with the progress he saw in the three vice presidents whom he had asked me to coach, called to request that I work with his administrative assistant. He described her difficulty as “imperiousness” with the other administrative staff and the need for her to understand the impact of her behavior on her peers.

Inappropriate Group Memberships The group memberships of the consultant must be appropriate for both the client and the client organization. If the consultant’s identity or organizational group memberships do not facilitate the process, coaching cannot succeed. Example: I received a call from the human resources director of a corporation to which I had not previously consulted. She asked me to do “on-boarding” for the new head of a subsidiary and explained that he would probably need support because he was much younger than his peers and direct reports, did not understand the politics of the organization, and would be the only African-American on the executive committee. She added that this would be a great way to bring me into the company.

Ulterior Motives There are a host of reasons why consultants accept questionable coaching assignments, ranging from supplementing income to business development to the need to rescue the client or client organization to association with a prestigious group to the challenge of achieving what others see as impossible. If the central concern for an assignment is not the client and what is required to help improve his/her performance, including a deliberate and coherent plan, the effort cannot succeed. Example: I received an urgent call from a former client organization with a request to work with a management team whose staff was


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complaining to human resources of racial and ethnic discrimination. I was told they had tried to resolve the issue internally, then turned to the human resources department, and now believed that I was the only one who could save the situation. It was critical to start work immediately to avoid the escalation of the grievance and further disruption to the working environment.

Personal Triggers A consultant is not free of unconscious emotional reactions to powerful psychological stimuli. Knowing what those triggers are, how intensely they impact effectiveness, and when to walk away from situations in which they are present are the consultant’s ethical and moral obligations. Example: When I met a client, my immediate reaction was a strong aversion to him. As the meeting progressed, I realized how much he reminded me of a former manager who was manipulative, erratic, and abusive. When I left the meeting, I felt no empathy for the client.

Going Native Consultants must guard against becoming so enmeshed in an organization that it is impossible to maintain their own external perspective and boundaries, without which the client cannot be successfully coached. Example: After 2 years of coaching highly paid senior executives within a high-status corporation, I was becoming increasingly dissatisfied with what I had achieved in life and began to question whether I had been wise to change careers. When I read newspapers with critical comments about the company, I found myself feeling defensive and angry at the writer.

IDENTIFYING POTENTIAL FAILURES The most difficult aspect of identifying potential coaching failures is differentiating resistance from intractability and what is situational from what is characterological. In addition, the signals often do not make themselves entirely clear until well into the process. Exiting becomes quite different depending on the particular stage of the coaching process, and while the entry stage is the easiest to exit, it is usually the most difficult in which to identify potential failures. Unless the client explicitly rejects coaching, the client’s organization blatantly refuses to support the process, or the consultant feels unmitigated antipathy toward the individual or the organization, it is very hard to judge whether coaching will

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be unsuccessful. Even in the case of a client who appears character-disordered, it is often much too early to determine whether the characteristic behavior is situationally induced. If there are early warnings of unusual obstacles, however, the consultant can prepare for a timely exit by limiting the scope of the initial engagement. By contracting only through feedback and objective setting, the consultant is able to repeatedly enter the organization, meet with relevant others, and conduct the feedback session. Much more data is available as a result, and, if the determination is made at this point that coaching cannot be successful, the consultant can complete the contractual obligation and exit, avoiding the pain and possible stigma of early termination. There are, of course, situations in which coaching failures cannot be avoided. These can often provide the consultant with the greatest learning opportunities and can be instrumental in helping the consultant prevent similar experiences in the future. The reader may rest assured that many of the examples given in the earlier sections of this chapter fall into this category.

ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY Kahn, W. A. (1993). Facilitating and undermining organizational change. Journal of Applied Behavioral Science, 29, 32–55. An award-winning article about the factors in the consultant that, if unexamined, can undermine the success of an organizational intervention. McWilliams, N. (1994). Psychoanalytic diagnosis. New York: Guildford Press. Of particular relevance are the sections on defensive processes (chapters 5–6) and the holistic presentation of psychopathic and narcissistic personalities (chapters 7–8). Mirvis, P. H., & Berg, D. N. (1977). Failures in organization development and change. New York: Wiley-Interscience. Describes consultation failures at several stages in the change process and in a broad range of organizational settings, as well as what each author learned from the failure.

CH A PT E R 1 5

Implications for Practice

The practice of executive coaching is not, of course, without implications. Working within an organization, in and of itself, presents certain challenges. Furthermore, using the multidimensional coaching process, with its emphasis on the excavation of unconscious forces, the simultaneity of multidimensional interventions, and the consultant’s use of the self, presents additional layers of complexity. Some of the most significant implications are discussed in this chapter.

EDUCATION AND TRAINING Perhaps the most obvious implication is the education and training of executive coaches. While discussion within the field is expanding, there is, as yet, no definitive position on what constitutes adequate preparation for this challenging and demanding work. Even the most cursory review of the contents of this book, however, indicates that executive coaching requires an imposing depth and breadth. It requires a comprehensive knowledge of psychology—clinical and organizational, individual and group. It requires a thorough understanding of management practices and the issues that senior leaders must confront on a daily basis. It requires the ability to maneuver through the peculiar labyrinths of diverse organizations—corporate, nonprofit, government, and educational. And it requires a deep awareness of one’s self and the abiding commitment to continuous self-reflection and self-scrutiny. Table 15.1 is an outline of recommended topics for those who wish to be appropriately prepared to practice executive coaching in the manner suggested throughout this book.

COACHING VERSUS THERAPY A second implication arises from competent utilization of psychological principles and techniques and the concomitant gray area that can emerge 151

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TABLE 15.1.

Education and Training of Executive Coaches

Component 1: Psychological theory (individual) • Psychodynamic theory • Cognitive-behavioral theory • Personality theory • Adult development • Adult learning • Change theory Component 2: Organizational psychology • Role theory • Group dynamics • Intergroup dynamics • Systems theory • Nature of leadership and authority • Change theory Component 3: Management theory and practice • Organizational structures • Organizational behavior • Leadership models • Strategic planning • Financial management • Marketing principles • Human resources management • Performance management Component 4: Practice skills • Contracting • Interviewing • Observation • Individual and organizational assessment • Feedback • Individual and group interventions • Individual and group facilitation • Outcome evaluation • Use of self as tool Component 5: Research methodology • Qualitative research • Quantitative research (Continued)


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TABLE 15.1. (Continued) • Statistics • Psychometrics Component 6: Ethics • American Psychological Association Ethical Principles and Guidelines • “Do no harm” • Confidentiality • Differences between coaching and therapy Component 7: Supervised practice • Step-by-step application of learning • Supervised coaching cases • Focused development of self as tool

between coaching and therapy. Although the differences between therapy and coaching are clearly delineated during initial meetings, the development of the working alliance, the exploration of family-of-origin dynamics, and the use of psychological interventions have the potential to obfuscate the boundaries. Thus, the consultant must remain ever vigilant to maintaining the appropriate role while still having the ability to engage in creative interventions. Having specific criteria with which to judge when the line between therapy and coaching is becoming confused, as well as when a referral to a qualified therapist is appropriate, is therefore critical.

DUAL RELATIONSHIPS Paradoxically, there is also an inherent risk when the boundaries are managed successfully. Because coaching is not a therapeutic relationship, but one that nevertheless fosters emotional intimacy, there can be a temptation to engage in a personal relationship, particularly at the conclusion of the work. This can be exacerbated if the consultant remains in the organization and is associated with the individual in a different capacity. Here, too, the consultant must be prepared to understand the power of the transference and countertransference and be willing to understand the logic behind the American Psychological Association’s (2003) restrictions regarding dual relationships.

CONFIDENTIALITY There are also implications regarding confidentiality that go beyond standard precautions—the safeguarding of information from interviews and coaching

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sessions—and into the realm of concurrent interventions and institutional protection. The first of these arises when working with multiple clients in the same organization, particularly if they are part of the same work group or in a supervisory relationship to one another. Often, in cases such as these, information shared during a coaching session with one client could be helpful to another client, or the perspective of each individual about the same incident or series of incidents could be of assistance to the other. Despite the natural temptation for the consultant to reveal what has been shared, all information (i.e., not only the disclosures themselves but also the fact that the other individual could benefit from knowing them) must be treated confidentially. Similarly, the extensive institutional information that is gathered through expanded association with the organization places the consultant in the unique position of knowing as much, if not more, about the system than many of those within it. The organization, as an entity, must be protected in the same manner as the individual client, and there must be appropriate boundaries around institutional confidentiality both internally and externally.

CONFLICT OF INTEREST A closely related implication is a potential conflict of interest between the individual and the organization. While the contract may stipulate that the individual is the primary client, should that client consider leaving the organization, contemplate a major lawsuit against the organization, or in any way seek to actively undermine the organization, the consultant is presented with an ethical dilemma that must be resolved before coaching can continue. In such cases, with the organization paying for services and the individual the direct recipient of those services, the question of who is the client can become a thorny one, indeed, and consultants must be prepared to answer that question appropriately and act in a manner that protects both parties.

USE OF SELF A final implication is the impact of coaching on the consultant. There is, of course, tremendous satisfaction in working this way, not the least of which is having an influence, and often a dramatic one, on the working life of an individual and, in the best of circumstances, on the organizational system in which the client participates. There are also formidable challenges. Examining the unconscious at multiple levels (including one’s own), addressing deep


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emotions in the client (and oneself), and being willing to carry the projections of an entire organization while relentlessly engaging in self-reflection and self-scrutiny so as to calibrate oneself to serve as a finely honed instrument places unusual demands on the consultant. Practicing in the way suggested throughout this book, therefore, requires not only extensive knowledge, enormous skill, and deep commitment, but also an intense and abiding personal investment in the process, the organization and the client.

PA RT I V

Multidimensional Executive Coaching: Bringing It All Together

We are concerned here with a new questioning, a new—and yet age-old—field of psychological experience. —Carl G. Jung (1934/53)

CH A PT E R 1 6

Multidimensional Executive Coaching: Summary

A

s this book has continuously espoused, there are three elements that are crucial to the successful practice of executive coaching. The first of these is a substantive guiding theory, the second is a consistent and replicable approach, and the third is a thorough understanding of the practical aspects of doing the work.

GUIDING THEORY Multidimensional theory consists of four premises: 1. The interaction of organization, individual, and consultant: Executive coaching, by definition, is a consultation to an individual regarding performance within an organizational role; it therefore must simultaneously consider the individual, the organization, and their continuous interaction. 2. The impact of unconscious forces: In addition to the rational, linear thinking on which most executives and organizations pride themselves, there exist unconscious forces that play a major role in shaping behavior; therefore, discovering and acknowledging unconscious forces is an essential component of executive coaching. 3. The inextricability of simultaneous multidimensional forces: Organizations are composed of groups, and groups are composed of individuals, all in relationship with one another. Therefore, executive coaching must examine how individual behavior (a) is embedded in organizational, group, intergroup, and interpersonal behavior and (b) influences and 159

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is influenced by intrapsychic, interpersonal, group, intergroup, and organizational forces. 4. The use of self as a tool: The consultant, in entering any organization, is subject to the same forces as those individuals within it; therefore, the consultant’s most crucial diagnostic tool in the executive coaching process is identifying and understanding the behaviors, thoughts, and emotions that are evoked in himself/herself. Figure 16.1 is a representation of these premises in pictorial form.

APPROACH The majority of this book has been devoted to the step-by-step approach to executive coaching that is a logical extension of the guiding theory. It is a reiterative and recursive process that uses qualitative research methods for data gathering and analysis. In addition, it is a process that is meant to be consistent but flexible, based on the particular needs of the client. It consists of three phases—entry, facilitating change, and concluding coaching—and 10 definable steps: initial contact, preliminary meeting, joint goals, contracting, assessment, feedback, objectives setting, formal coaching, outcome evaluation, and concluding the coaching process. Entry consists of the initial contact, the preliminary meeting with the client, the identification of preliminary coaching goals with the client and the client’s manager, and contracting. Facilitating change consists of assessment, feedback, objectives setting, and formal coaching. Concluding coaching consists of outcome evaluation and concluding the coaching process. Data gathering begins at entry. During the initial contact, such information as who makes the contact, how the individual describes the need for coaching, and why the contact is being made at the particular time, is readily available and can prove valuable later in the process. The preliminary meeting allows the consultant to physically enter the organization, make firsthand observations about boundaries, intergroup dynamics, and the client’s interactional patterns and to gain more detailed information about the client’s motivation for engaging in the process. The goal-setting meeting reveals the nature of the relationship between the client and the client’s manager and, depending on their group memberships, provides data about the nature of intergroup relations in the particular organization. If the individuals involved agree on goals, the contract is formalized, and the manner in which it is handled can also reveal significant information about the organization.

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FIGURE 16.1 Multidimensional theory.


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Assessment is conducted through four methods: the psychodynamic interview with the client, interviews with relevant others surrounding the client, observation of the client’s interactions, and the consultant’s use of self. Information is thus gleaned from many perspectives and sources so as to provide a reliable composite of the manner in which the client is perceived. Feedback, based on the assessment, is shared orally and, subsequently, in written form with the client. It is then used to formulate specific objectives for formal coaching and, if different from the goals established during the entry stage, discussed in another three-way meeting with the client’s manager. Regularly scheduled meetings between the consultant and the client provide the venue for formal coaching. While there is a distinct pattern to the meetings, the content differs based on objectives, unexpected priorities, and emerging resistance from the client, the organization, or both. The wide array of techniques and interventions employed by the consultant are as varied as the specific needs of the client at any given time in the process. Once it is clear that the client has achieved the objectives of the coaching process, the consultant prepares the client for termination, and the final meeting with the client’s manager is arranged. The process may also conclude as a result of reaching the limits of the contractual agreement or of the client’s decision to discontinue coaching. Evaluation of coaching efficacy, as a consequence of the establishment of clearly articulated objectives, is embedded in the process. Efficacy may also be measured by repeating the 360-degree interviews or, when statistically sound measures are desired, the organic questionnaire. All provide a vehicle with which to measure progress against objectives and to make recommendations for further developmental efforts.

PRACTICAL ASPECTS There are a number of practice issues that a consultant engaged in executive coaching must consider, including potential coaching failures, ethical dilemmas, and adequate preparation to do the work effectively, given the complexity, diversity, and demands of the work. The next and final chapter brings us full circle. “The Case of Margaret” is analyzed utilizing all of the elements outlined above and described in detail in the preceding chapters of this book.

CH A PT E R 1 7

The Case of Margaret: A Multidimensional Analysis

THEORETICAL ANALYSIS

The broad systemic messages with which the client was being bombarded were evident from the very start. The initial contact from the president had demonstrated not only the organization’s considerable esteem for the client but also the high expectations that were being demanded of her—“prominent,” “highly visible,” “most intellectually stimulating,” all gave voice to an elitism that appeared to be surrounding the client and her role. This was underscored as the consultant arrived at the imposing entryway and impressive residence that housed the client’s work site—a façade that belied the absence of barriers and guideposts to physical entry. The consultant’s gothic imaginings, together with her relief upon locating the client, heightened the sense of underboundedness and led to the formulation of the first hypothesis: The client, despite her celebrity, was indeed feeling psychologically lost in a new role in a highly underbounded system and, consequently, needed someone who would help her find her way. The client’s forthright and unpretentious description of the issues gave ample evidence for the corroboration of the first hypothesis and crystallized the additional multiplicity of forces with which she was grappling: at the intergroup level, dynamics involving gender and expertise (heightened by the questioned value of the new unit); at the group level, the schism between research and administration (compounded by its parallels at the departmental level and by the client’s conflicted feelings about giving up her own research); at the interpersonal level, the strained relationships with her assistant and the executive vice president; and at the individual level, her paralyzing inability to deal with anger. The apparent interaction of these forces led to the generation 163

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of two additional hypotheses: that the client’s fear of anger was both cause and effect in the complex dynamics in which she was entangled, and that given the nature of existing intergroup dynamics, the consultant’s gender and expertise would be the most salient of her group memberships in developing a strong working alliance with the client. There were two significant data points that emerged from the three-way meeting. The first, of course, was the intensity of the client’s negative feelings about her colleague; the second was her assertiveness, bordering on aggressiveness, with her senior manager. The consultant observed, firsthand, that the client was, in fact, quite capable of confrontation—at least with some individuals. Consequently, the consultant was convinced that the client’s feelings about her colleague—and the unconscious forces triggering them—needed to be explored more deeply later in the coaching process. The opportunity for that exploration presented itself, and was taken, in the very first coaching meeting. What turned out to be revelatory to the client was not simply the cause of her reaction (she had, after all, previously identified it in the course of therapy), but the fact that it influenced her behavior at work as well as in her personal life. Once articulated, the client quickly integrated the insight, and, with the added reinforcement of relevant information that the consultant had obtained during the course of the assessment interviews, the client was able to take giant leaps in confronting issues with her staff and capably managing her group. That the consultant had taken the opportunity to probe so deeply early in the process, that the client responded so readily, and that the consultant’s emotions on behalf of the client were so accessible were testimony to the strength of the alliance that was forming between the two women. The elephant-in-the-room analogy, meant to distinguish coaching from therapy, was therefore not a random imaginative thought; it was the result of a powerful countertransference that enabled the consultant to plumb her own unconscious in order to respond to the client’s intrapsychic needs. Initially expressed as a symbol of psychological impediment, it became, as was soon made clear, an archetypal representation of a powerful, protective matriarchal1 figure—one that, in this context, would be neither abusive nor blaming as the client continued to confront the debilitating family-of-origin dynamics being triggered by the multilevel forces surrounding her. Furthermore, the intervention, served yet another purpose: By explicitly differentiating between coaching and therapy, the consultant was performing an overt act 1

For additional information on the archetypal mother, see Jung, C. G. (1969). The concept of the collective unconscious. In The archetypes and the collective unconscious (Collected Works, 9i, pp. 42–53) (R. F. C. Hull, Trans.). Princeton: Princeton University Press. (Original work published 1936.)

The Case of Margaret

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of boundary management and thereby role modeling (albeit unconsciously until later in the coaching) a behavior that would prove crucial to the client as she continued to navigate the uncharted waters of her new role in an underbounded system. The client’s second insight took a more circuitous path. It occurred only after a great deal of discussion about what appeared to be a self-defeating pattern of relentless perfectionism in the face of ever-increasing organizational demands—and, for the first time in the coaching relationship, the marked escalation of resistance to the consultant’s interventions. The opportunity to directly explore the root cause of the resistance was precipitated by the client’s highly uncharacteristic reaction to what had appeared to the consultant to be the uncomplicated and unthreatening assignment of reviewing the client’s list of strengths. For the client, however, the combination of being asked to defy the organizational performance imperatives of the dominant group and to focus so strongly on the positive aspects of her feedback, together with being told she was a “star” by someone who had become as close to her as had the consultant, triggered the most painful of family-of-origin dynamics. The resulting badmother transference produced not anger and disappointment, but the consultant’s countertransferential empathy and concern, which made possible the pivotal insight. Paradoxically, it also demonstrated to the client that she could refuse an assignment without damage to herself or her reputation. As the next meeting illuminated, the client once again quickly internalized her newfound understanding of her behaviors and their organizational stimuli and consciously began to ameliorate their negative effects by experimenting with new behaviors. When some regression occurred in the final coaching meetings, the client demonstrated her ability to recover quickly, to use selfreflection and organizational perspective to problem-solve, and to engage in self-management. By the end of coaching, she had not completely overcome her issues—there was, for instance, still work to do with her colleague—but she had accomplished her objectives. Most important, she was no longer the unknowing prisoner of the multiple unconscious forces that had so powerfully impacted her in her new role.

ANALYSIS OF APPROACH Phases and Steps in the Process As this case illustrates, all of the phases and steps in the multidimensional coaching approach were followed not in a lock-step, formulaic manner, but in one that accommodated the demonstrated needs of the client and the organization.

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During the entry phase, the initial contact made by the client’s manager revealed significant systemic data; the preliminary meeting illuminated a wealth of information about organizational boundaries, intergroup relations, group dynamics, and the client’s feelings and concerns; and the three-way meeting provided the entryway to the first major intervention. Throughout this phase, observation and the consultant’s use of self as a tool were the preeminent methods for gathering data and formulating working hypotheses. In the second phase, assessment, feedback, and coaching occurred simultaneously (and became seamlessly intertwined) as a result of the client’s clearly defined need for immediate help in carrying out the responsibilities of her new role. The equivalent of the psychodynamic interview occurred during coaching sessions, the concurrent interviews with relevant others provided foundational data and support for early coaching recommendations and interventions, and formal feedback was the linchpin for some of the deepest work in the coaching process. In this phase, interviewing was the salient method; however, continuous observation and use of self as a tool underscored the additional data emerging from all sources that led to the productivity of the coaching meetings and the impact of the coaching interventions. The final phase, concluding the process, was largely organic. It became clear to both the client and the consultant that the objectives had been met, which was confirmed in informal conversations with the client’s manager, and the client demonstrated the ability, willingness, and confidence to sustain her behavior through self-management.

COACHING MEETINGS AND INTERVENTIONS There were a total of 12 coaching meetings with the client, including delivery of the oral feedback report. As is evident from the case history, each session followed the pattern of reconnection, update, review, analysis, homework assignment, and rescheduling, yet each was quite different, uniquely following one of the several paths that the coaching meeting could take (see Chapter 11, Figure 11.4). The first coaching meeting occurred approximately halfway through the interview process. It began with the client’s update of the worsening interpersonal relationship with her direct report, her clear priority for the meeting. The critical intervention was the examination of the client’s increasingly apparent defense mechanism of fearful paralysis in the face of anger. Exploration of the dyadic relationship, indirect probing for familyof-origin dynamics, and acknowledgement of countertransferential material all supported the conscious identification of the intrapsychic trigger for the


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client’s self-defeating behavior. The homework assignment was a cognitive one—self-reflection. The second meeting demonstrated that the client had taken her homework assignment quite seriously. Her self-reflection had led to awareness of a significant behavioral weakness and its source. The consultant’s ability to draw on confirming feedback data, the use of positive reinforcement, the emergence of analogy and metaphor, and the role modeling of boundary management laid the groundwork for the third meeting and the ensuing plan to confront the client’s direct report. Its successful execution at the fourth meeting was, in no small measure, related to the consultant’s presence in the room (reminiscent of the elephant metaphor) during the dyadic event. This intervention was facilitated not only by the alliance with the client, but also by the relationship forged between the consultant and the direct report during the feedback interview. The client’s update at the fifth meeting demonstrated her integration of the new behavior. The consultant now articulated the concept of boundary management as a way in which to reinforce the client’s success and to help her conceptualize the continuation of her homework—ongoing practice of the behavior with her staff. In many ways, then, the sixth meeting was a replication of the fifth, consisting of the client’s update, positive reinforcement from the consultant, discussion about boundary management, and a related homework assignment. Because the homework seemed straightforward to the consultant, she had not anticipated the client’s resistance. Consequently, when it surfaced, the consultant consciously employed use of self as a tool, carefully noting her reactions and thoughts as data that she could reference later in coaching. The conclusion of the seventh meeting had been preceded by two unequivocally positive events—the enthusiastically received staff meeting and the affirming feedback report. Although the consultant had expected the remainder of this meeting to consist of the analysis of factors that had contributed to the success, she was prepared, as a result of the use of self as a tool in the former meeting, with what she considered to be an effective intervention for the client’s continued resistance to managing her task boundaries—building self-confidence through self-reinforcement. The ineffectiveness of both that intervention and its intended purpose became starkly apparent at the next meeting. An unexpected by-product, however, was its value in intensifying the client’s resistance. When the consultant attempted, and failed, to reduce it with a cognitive technique (i.e., challenging negative thoughts), she returned to the homework assignment, still believing the appropriate intervention to be one that would raise the client’s selfesteem. It, too, had just the opposite effect. Ultimately, it was the consultant’s

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use of self as a tool that proved to be the effective method; it led to the hereand-now intervention that finally penetrated the resistance, making clear the anxiety that the client felt not only about lack of perfection but also pride in achievement. The consultant could then begin to grasp the meaning of the transference and understand, through the countertransference, the magnitude of the intrapsychic forces. The consultant’s planned intervention for the ninth meeting, therefore, was to suggest a return to therapy. It proved entirely unnecessary, as demonstrated by the client’s affect, update, and self-analysis. The consultant identified her countertransference during this meeting as a reflection of the client’s positive internal state and gave voice to it in a single statement of praise. The client was now ready to accept it. In the remaining three sessions, the consultant simply served as a sounding board for the work that the client was doing on her own. Nothing more than observation, active listening, and positive reinforcement was required.

PRACTICE ISSUES Four practice issues were salient throughout this case. The first and most evident was the maintenance of the boundary between coaching and therapy. The second was the impact of use of self as a tool on the consultant and the consultation. The third was maintaining confidentiality while engaging in a dyadic intervention. The fourth was the training and education required for a successful consultation. The need for the consultant to be ever-vigilant to the boundary between coaching and therapy was extraordinarily critical in this case. There were a number of elements that made it so. Unconscious intrapsychic forces, familyof-origin dynamics, defense mechanisms, resistance, and concomitant psychodynamic interventions all played an unusually prominent role in this case. To add to the considerable power of those factors, there was the systemic pull, in the form of a highly underbounded organization, toward the collapsing of boundaries, which, in turn, influenced the ability of the client to establish them for herself and her group. The ability of the consultant to maintain the coaching boundaries was therefore not only an ethical imperative, it was the manner in which she gathered critical data about the organization and the client and, in turn, became the vehicle for some of the most pivotal interventions and insights in the case.


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The consultant’s use of self as a tool was key to the success of the consultation. Although never easy to employ, it was particularly demanding here. The consultant came directly in contact with profoundly disturbing events in the client’s, and consequently her own, past; the consultant experienced a multitude of painful emotions and was obliged to identify and analyze each one; and the consultant had to bear the pain of the client’s negative projections and hold them until the client was ready to withdraw them. In addition, the consultant, while engaged in constant self-reflection and self-scrutiny, had to acknowledge the humbling fact that many of the most effective interventions emerged, not as a result of her planful efforts, but from her own unconscious. Maintaining confidentiality was perfunctory in this case with one important exception—the dyadic intervention between the client and her direct report. The challenge here was that each of the individuals had fully disclosed her feelings and concerns about the other, and the consultant had to go to great lengths, particularly in helping the client prepare for the meeting, not to divulge the information. Knowing the perspectives of both individuals, though, was the very thing that made the intervention successful—the consultant could maintain an evenly balanced perspective, each individual knew there was another person in attendance who was aware of a more complete history, and both, based on the knowledge that no confidences had been broken, could feel psychologically protected in the presence of the consultant. If ever there was a case history that delineated the criticality of rigorous preparation for the field, this one is it. The need for a deep and broad knowledge of organizational and individual psychology, experience with management skills and practices, a comprehensive array of intervention techniques, a deep awareness of the self, a consistent and reliable approach, and the unconditional commitment to ethical practice were all indispensable to the successful outcome of the moving and dramatic “Case of Margaret.”

Appendix A. Sample Contracts APPENDIX A-1 SAMPLE CONTRACT: FULL COACHING PROJECT Date Name Company Address Dear (Authorizing Individual): This will serve as the Letter of Agreement for the executive coaching to be conducted with (Name of Client). The preliminary coaching plan, based on initial discussion with (Client), is enclosed. Consulting fees of $xxx per hour are based on an estimated xx hours, for a total of $xxxx. Should it become necessary to exceed that estimate for any reason, no work will be done without prior approval. Fees will be billed twice—after the feedback session and at the conclusion of the individual coaching sessions outlined in the plan—and will include total hours incurred up to each point. As we have discussed, all information shared by individuals during the interview process will be treated confidentially and will be used only to develop a profile for (Client). The latter will be discussed with her in a private feedback meeting and will not be available to any other individual. In addition, all discussions with (Client) will be handled with complete confidentiality. Please indicate your authorization to proceed by signing a copy of this document where indicated below and returning it to me at your earliest convenience. Should you have any questions, please feel free to contact me. I am looking forward to working with (Client) and (Name of Organization), and I thank you for the opportunity to do so. Sincerely, Approved:______________________________Date:__________________ 171

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APPENDIX A

APPENDIX A-2 SAMPLE CONTRACT: PHASED COACHING PROJECT WITH TRAVEL REQUIREMENTS Date Name Company Address Dear (Authorizing Individual): This will serve as the Letter of Agreement for the executive coaching to be conducted with (Name of Client). The preliminary coaching plan, based on initial discussion with (Client) and proposed in two phases is enclosed. Phase I consulting fees of $xxx per hour are based on an estimated xx hours, for a total of $xxxx, exclusive of travel expenses. Should it become necessary to exceed that estimate for any reason, no work will be done without prior approval. Phase II fees and hours will be estimated once specific coaching objectives are defined, and a separate letter of agreement will be submitted prior to proceeding. Fees will be billed at the conclusion of each phase of the program and will include actual consulting hours and related travel expense incurred up to each point. As we have discussed, all information shared by individuals during the interview process will be treated confidentially and will be used only to develop a profile for (Client). The latter will be discussed with him in a private feedback meeting and will not be available to any other individual. In addition, all discussions with (Client) will be handled with complete confidentiality. Please indicate your authorization to proceed by signing a copy of this document where indicated below and returning it to me at your earliest convenience. Should you have any questions, please feel free to contact me. Sincerely, Approved:______________________________Date:__________________

Appendix A

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APPENDIX A-3 SAMPLE CONTRACT: CONTINUATION OF PHASED COACHING PROJECT Date Name Company Address Dear (Authorizing Individual): This will serve as the Letter of Agreement for the second half of the executive coaching to be conducted with (Name of Client). The final plan is enclosed. Phase II consulting fees of $xxx are based on $xxx per hour for an estimated xx hours. Should it become necessary to exceed the estimate for any reason, no work will be done without prior approval. Fees will be billed at the conclusion of the program and will include actual consulting hours incurred to each point. As we have discussed, all information will continue to be treated confidentially. Please indicate your authorization to proceed by signing this document where indicated below and returning it to me at your earliest convenience. Should you have any questions, please feel free to contact me. I am looking forward to continuing my work with (Client) and the (Name of Organization), and I thank you for the opportunity to do so. Sincerely, Approved:______________________________Date:__________________

Appendix B. Sample Coaching Plans APPENDIX B-1 SAMPLE COACHING PLAN: FULL COACHING PROJECT •

Initial Meetings (2 hours) Purpose: Establish preliminary goals and agree on process

•

Individual Interviews (15, 1 hour each) Purpose: Interview client’s manager, direct reports, peers and others to develop multidimensional profile

•

Feedback Preparation (6 hours) Purpose: Aggregate data from interviews and prepare feedback report

•

Feedback Session (3 hours) Purpose: Share profile and identify developmental objectives

•

Objectives Setting (1 hour) Purpose: Prioritize coaching objectives

•

Joint Meeting, Client and Supervising Manager (1 hour) Purpose: Confirm mutual goals and objectives

•

Coaching Sessions Individual sessions (12 sessions, 1.5 hours each) Purpose: Achieve highest priority goal(s) and assess next steps

•

Final Meeting, Client and Supervising Manager (1 hour) Purpose: Confirm goal accomplishment and discuss further development Total estimated hours: 47

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Appendix B

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APPENDIX B-2 SAMPLE COACHING PLAN: PHASED COACHING PROJECT Phase I: Assessment and Feedback • Initial Meeting (2 hours) Purpose: Establish preliminary goals and agree upon process •

Individual Interviews (18, 1 hour each) Purpose: Develop multidimensional profile

•


•

Feedback Session (3 hours) Purpose: Share profile and identify developmental objective

•

Objectives Setting (1 hour): Purpose: Prioritize coaching objectives

•


Phase II: Coaching • Coaching Sessions: Individual sessions (hours to be determined based on objectives) Purpose: Achieve highest priority goal(s) and assess next steps •

Final Meeting, Client and Supervising Manager (1 hour) Purpose: Confirm goal accomplishment and discuss further development Estimated hours Phase I: 31 Estimated hours Phase II: TBD

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APPENDIX B

APPENDIX B-3 SAMPLE COACHING PLAN: CONTINUATION OF PHASED COACHING PROJECT Phase I: Assessment and Feedback • Initial Meeting (2 hours) Purpose: Establish preliminary goals and agree upon process •

Individual Interviews (15, 1 hour each) Purpose: Develop multidimensional profile

•


•

Feedback Session (3 hours) Purpose: Share profile and identify developmental objective

•

Objectives Setting (1 hour): Purpose: Prioritize coaching objectives

•


Phase II: Coaching • Coaching Sessions: Individual sessions (18 hours, 3 hours per month for 6 months) Purpose: Achieve highest priority goal(s) and assess next steps •

Final Meeting, Client and Supervising Manager (1 hour) Purpose: Confirm goal accomplishment and discuss further development Phase I: Concluded Estimated hours Phase II: 19

Appendix C. Sample 360-Degree Interview Protocols APPENDIX C-1 SAMPLE 360-DEGREE INTERVIEW PROTOCOL: GENERIC MANAGEMENT SKILLS Client: Interviewee: Date: (Introduction: Purpose, Confidentiality, Timing, Questions) 1. How long have you known ______? In what capacity? 2. How often do you interact with ________ ? For what purpose(s)? 3. Please describe _______’s role as you understand it. 4. How would you describe _________’s management style? Is it consistent with what is expected for the role? Explain. (What would be the appropriate style for the position?) 5. Please comment on his/her effectiveness in the following areas (please give examples): • Planning/organizational skills • Delegation • Communication • Motivational skills (i.e., ability to motivate others) • Leadership skills • Interpersonal skills

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6. How comfortable are you working with _______? What is the best thing about working with ____? What would you change about working with ____________? 7. Have you learned anything from _______? 8. If you were to give _____ advice, what would it be? 9. If you were making the hiring decision for _______’s job, would you hire _____? Why or why not? 10. Is there anything that wasn’t asked that should have been (i.e., anything else it would be helpful to know)?

Appendix C

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APPENDIX C-2 SAMPLE 360-DEGREE INTERVIEW PROTOCOL: CUSTOMIZED LEADERSHIP SKILLS Client: Interviewee: Date: (Introduction: Purpose, Confidentiality, Timing, Questions, Examples) 1. How long have you known ______? In what capacity? 2. How often do you interact with ________? For what purpose(s)? 3. How would you describe _______ as a leader? 4. How would you rate his/her planning skills? • How has she/he exhibited his/her commitment to the strategic plan? • To what extent does his/her planning consider the rest of the organization? 5. How would you rate the overall quality of the people reporting to him/her? • How does he/she motivate them? • How does he/she develop them? • How does he/she hold them accountable? 6. How does __________ interact with customers, both internal and external? 7. To what degree to you consider ___________ an expert in his/her area? 8. How effective is his/her decision making? 9. How flexible is he/she?

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10. To what extent do you think _______ is aware of his/her impact on others? 11. How comfortable are you working with _____? What is the best thing about working with ____? What would you change about working with ____________? 12. If you could give _____ advice, what would it be? 13. Is there anything that wasn’t asked that should have been (i.e., anything else it would be helpful to know)?

Appendix D. Sample Feedback Reports APPENDIX D-1 SAMPLE FEEDBACK REPORT: CLIENT A (CLEAR STRENGTHS)

EXECUTIVE COACHING FEEDBACK Client A

CONFIDENTIAL

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APPENDIX D

EXECUTIVE COACHING FEEDBACK Client A

ORGANIZATIONAL CONTEXT •

Mediocrity tolerated for sake of relationship

•

History of nepotism

•

“Nice,” “polite,” nonconfrontational norms

•

“Housecleaning” requirements for regional office

ROLE EXPECTATIONS •

Leadership—with multiple interpretations

•

Supervision of staff

•

Ultimate decision making

•

Profitability

•

Advocacy

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Feedback—Client A Page 2 STRENGTHS Leadership • Courage • Presence • Integrity • High standards/principles (“low tolerance for unethical behavior”) • Vision • Trustworthiness • Creativity • Well liked • “Others desire to follow him” Motivation • Motivation through example (“hard work; gets things done”) • Recognition of superior performance • Positive reinforcement • Makes things exciting, fun • Rallies people (mentor, coach, cheerleader) • “Trusts me; has confidence in me” • “Makes me feel valuable” Delegation • “King of delegation” • Ability to assess strengths/weaknesses • No micromanagement: “Gets out of the way … but there if I need help” • Delegation used as a development tool Team building • Ability to select the right people • Demonstrates confidence in the team’s abilities • Recognizes and rewards teamwork • Makes it fun for the team to work together

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APPENDIX D

Feedback—Client A Page 3 COMPLEX AREAS Management style • Straightforward: “you always know where he’s coming from/where you stand”; “what you see is what you get” • Accessible (“walks around”) • Confident in people • Collaborative/consensus building • Fair • Supportive • Passionate • Involved • Committed/focused/driven • Heavy-handed (“my way or the highway”) • Inflexible/rigid/no shades of gray • Stops at nothing to get things done: “doesn’t know when to back off”; “intimidates others” Communication • Articulate • Strong presenter • Excellent public speaker: “compelling and organized”; “spectacular in front of a group” • Good listener • Thorough with information • •

•

Short/abrupt/“in your face”: “He gets so quickly to the point that you feel a spear right through you.” Unsettling: “He forces senior management to see what they pretend not to.” “He does not know how to deliver an unpopular message without getting people angry.” Overwhelming: “He has strong opinions, and the way he expresses them catches people off guard.”

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Feedback—Client A Page 4 COMPLEX AREAS (continued) Interpersonal • Fun/sense of humor • Caring/human • Personable • Well respected • Quick temper/outbursts • Shows frustration • Moodiness (“I have to pick the times I can tell him something.”) • Impatient/intolerant of others’ ideas (“He doesn’t suffer fools well.”) • Defensive/confrontational/reactive: “He should ask questions/ask for input before jumping into action.” “He’s the boss. He doesn’t have to get to their level. He doesn’t have to react right away.” • Aggressive/“tough”

MOST COMMON ADVICE 1. Keep balance in your life. (“Slow down and enjoy where you are; make time for your family.”) 2. “Pick your battles.” 3. Think about running a business rather than a staff group (“latter not challenging enough”). 4. Be in the office more (“versus task forces, committees, etc.”). 5. “Keep doing what you’re doing. You’re terrific.”

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APPENDIX D-2 SAMPLE FEEDBACK REPORT: CLIENT B (ALL COMPLEX)

EXECUTIVE COACHING FEEDBACK Client B

CONFIDENTIAL

Appendix D

EXECUTIVE COACHING FEEDBACK Client B

ORGANIZATIONAL CONTEXT •

Organizational culture -“We’re Number 1” -Relational/collaborative -Respect for authority -Difficult for “outsiders”

•

Competition/territoriality at the top

•

Perceived tension among peers

ROLE EXPECTATIONS •

Head of group

•

Strategic partner

•

Thought leader

•

“Big, broad role”

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Feedback—Client B Page 2 MANAGEMENT SKILLS SET Planning and Organization • Prepared/thinks things through • Well-thought-out insights • Proactive • “Solid vision of where to take organization” • “Grasps issues and lays down structure” • “Have seen him step in and resolve chaos and build a working team” •

•

Lack of clarity and focus -Many changes in direction without explanation -Frenetic/reactive -Uneven Execution gap -Plan not accomplished -Lack of delivery -Work done without results: “Paralysis by analysis”

Delegation • Clear expectations • Knows what and to whom to delegate • • •

Micromanages Tasks but not responsibility “Sometimes it’s preferable not to think on your own because if it differs from his view; you’ll have to redo it.”

Motivation • Enthusiastic • Positive • Respectful • Empowering • Public praise

Appendix D

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Feedback—Client B Page 3 • •

High expectations Results based

•

“Fixated on getting things done, not how. The toll he extracts is significant in terms of emotional energy and team spirit.” Formal authority: “He would benefit by being less directive and condescending and getting people involved in setting objectives.” “Positions himself as the key player; always trying to be front and center”

• •

Communication • Precise/succinct/clear: “chooses words carefully” • Straightforward/no hidden agenda • Articulate • Listens • Condescending/patronizing • “Listens but does not hear” • “Does not identify audience” • Cuts people off: “no opportunity for full distillation of ideas” • “Misses nuances of others’ reactions” Interpersonal • Warm/nice/thoughtful • Well intentioned • Charming/personable/interesting • Light hearted/sense of humor • Cold/stiff/uncomfortable/guarded: “hard to get to know” • Combative/opinionated/stubborn: “draws his line and then is very hard” • Off-putting/dismissive: “doesn’t know or care about his impact on others” Leadership • Intelligent: “keen mind” • Knowledgeable/knows and understands business • Insightful

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Feedback—Client B Page 4 • • •

Creative Strong senior presence Enormous capacity for work

• Militaristic/hierarchical: “gets things done by telling people what to do” • Self-promoting “moves own agenda at expense of others”; “defects accountability, blames others, takes credit”

MOST COMMON ADVICE People Management •

Show more trust and delegation in team; empower them more. Give them more latitude and responsibility.

•

Be sensitive to what matters to people and be clear about criteria.

•

More focus on coaching and developing—group would be more effective with each other and the organization.

•

Once in a while, take a walk around; pop head into offices. Be a presence in the office.

•

Strive for focus. Clearly set mission and priorities; articulate clearly around these. Let people rise to them and then give them credit.

Collaboration •

Demonstrate that an exchange of opinions is valuable.

•

Be more open to others’ ideas/input, not just your own. You could leverage this and not repeat work.

•

Learn to negotiate. Give up something when it is not important to you but is to others.

Appendix E. Sample Organic Questionnaire

EXECUTIVE COACHING EVALUATION Dear Evaluator: The purpose of this study is to discover the effects, if any, of executive coaching on the behaviors of those who undergo the process. Therefore, your perceptions in the present and the past are crucial to the research. This evaluation has three sections: •

Section I asks you to reflect on your interactions with NAME approximately 12–18 months ago and to describe her professional behavior at that time.

•

Section II contains a series of statements about past behaviors. Some apply to xxxx, and some apply to others who have undergone coaching but not to her. You are asked to indicate the extent to which you agree or disagree with each.

•

Section III asks you to reflect on your current interactions with xxxx and to describe her professional behavior at the present time.

•

Section III contains the same statements about present behaviors. Again, some apply to xxxx and some apply to others but not her; and you are asked to indicate the extent to which you agree or disagree with each. Thank you very much for participating in this study.

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192

APPENDIX E

Evaluation—Section I Directions: Please reflect on your interactions with xxxx approximately one year to eighteen months ago. In the space below, briefly describe what xxxx was like as a professional. Then please answer the questions in the following sections.

Appendix E

193

Evaluation—Section II Directions: Please indicate to what extent you agree or disagree with the following statements about xxxx as they describe her behavior approximately 12–18 months ago. Please place a check mark in the appropriate box. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Key: Disagree completely Disagree somewhat Neither agree nor disagree Agree somewhat Agree completely 1

2

3

4

5

1.

She demonstrated strong organizational skills.

2.

She was warm and kind in our dealings.

3.

She was easily overwhelmed.

4.

She tried to do too many things at one time.

5.

She was adept at handling difficult situations with staff.

6.

She had her job under control.

7.

I knew where I stood with her.

8.

I experienced her as “abrupt.”

9.

I experienced her as “condescending.”

10.

She communicated clearly to me.

11.

She demonstrated to me that it was important to achieve her goals.

12.

I did not know what she expected of me.

13.

She intimidated me.

14.

She was a mentor to me.

194

APPENDIX E

Evaluation—Section II (continued) 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.


2

3

4

5

15.

She kept me informed.

16.

I rarely observed her delegating work.

17.

I trusted her to keep a confidence.

18.

I observed her overreacting to things when under stress.

19.

I described her as “frantic.”

20.

She did not provide learning opportunities for employees.

21.

I experienced her as overly focused and task-oriented.

22.

She demonstrated a sense of urgency about her work.

23.

She allowed me to make mistakes and helped me learn from them.

24.

She confused me.

25.

She inspired me to do my best work.

26.

She made quick decisions that were not always the best ones.

27.

I saw her as able to say “no” to certain things asked of her.

28.

She rarely praised and recognized my work.

29.

She abused the power of her position.

30.

She preferred email to face-to-face communication.

Appendix E

195

Evaluation—Section III Directions: Please reflect on your interactions with xxxx currently. In the space below, briefly describe what xxxx is like as a professional. Then please answer the questions in the following sections.

196

APPENDIX E

Evaluation—Section IV Directions: Please indicate to what extent you agree or disagree with the following statements about xxxx as they describe her behavior currently. Please place a check mark in the appropriate box. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.


2

3

4

5

1.

I trust her to keep a confidence.

2.

I experience her as “abrupt.”

3.

I experience her as focused and task-oriented.

4.

She demonstrates to me that it is important to achieve her goals.

5.

I describe her as “frantic.”

6.

I know where I stand with her.

7.

I observe her overreacting to things when under stress.

8.

She communicates clearly to me.

9.

She demonstrates strong organizational skills.

10.

She abuses the power of her position.

11.

She allows me to make mistakes and helps me learn from them.

12.

She is a mentor to me.

13.

She intimidates me.

14.

I rarely observe her delegating work.

Appendix E

197

Evaluation—Section IV (continued) 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.


2

3

4

5

15.

She demonstrates a sense of urgency about her work.

16.

She inspires me to do my best work.

17.

She has her job under control.

18.

She does not provide learning opportunities for employees.

19.

She confuses me.

20.

She keeps me informed.

21.

She makes quick decisions that are not always the best ones.

22.

She rarely praises and recognizes my work.

23.

She prefers email to face-to-face communication.

24.

I see her as able to say “no” to certain things asked of her.

25.

She tries to do too many things at one time.

26.

I do not know what she expects of me.

27.

She is adept at handling difficult situations with staff.

28.

She is easily overwhelmed.

29.

I experience her as “condescending”.

30.

She is warm and kind in our dealings.

References

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Index

Affective patterns, 30 Alderfer, Clayton, 29–30, 39 Archetypes, in formal coaching, 106 Assessment, 71–82 case analyses, 79–81 case studies, 74–79 of clients, 71–74 in coaching pyramid, 100 data gathering from, 71–74, 162 methods of, 71–74, 162 objectives of, 37, 71, 162 use of self in, 36, 71, 73–74, 162 Behavioral approach, in coaching methodology, 16 Behavioral interventions, 105 Berg, David N., 32, 69 Bion, Wilfred R., 29 Boundary permeability and coaching contracts, 65–67 in formal coaching process, 106 indicators of, 29–30, 42 in initial contacts, 42 and intergroup dynamics, 30 and organizational theory, 29–30 in preliminary meetings, 47 and unconscious forces, 30 Brotman, L. E., 16 Cammann, C., 32 Cara, case study, 88–89, 90 Case analyses assessment, 79–81 coaching contracts, 66–67 conclusion of coaching, 140 feedback, 89–90 formal coaching process, 111–115

initial contact, 44–46 joint goal setting, 61–63 objectives setting, 97–98 preliminary meeting process, 52–55 termination of coaching, 140 Case studies. See Cara, case study; Henry, case study; Howard, case study; Jack, case study; Jeanne, case study; Jim, case study; Ken, case study; Margaret, case study; Mary, case study; Richard, case study; Sonia, case study; Steven, case study Character in coaching methodology, 16–17 Childhood experiences, relevance of, 16 Claypool Furniture and Appliances Study, 20 Client/manager relationship assessment of, 57–58, 160 and objectives setting, 93 Client ownership of coaching contract, 65 of joint goal setting, 57 of objectives setting, 93–94 Clients assessment of, 71–74 coaching contract ownership, 65 and coaching failure, 143–144 and coaching termination, 137–139 determining motivation of, 72, 160 feedback to, 83–85 formal coaching, 99–107 initial contact, 41–42 joint goal setting, 57–59 objectives setting, 93–94 outcome evaluation, 119–123

203

204

INDEX

Clients (Continued) preliminary meetings, 47–48 relationship with manager, 57–58, 93, 160 self-awareness in, 17, 100 Coaching. See also Executive coaching; Formal coaching process Coaching, conclusion of case analysis, 140 case study, 139–140 early, 138 reasons for, 137–139, 162 Coaching contracts boundary permeability and, 65–67 case analyses, 66–67 case studies, 66 components of, 65 data gathered from, 65 ownership by client, 65 Coaching failure, 143–150 client factors, 143–144 consultant factors, 147–149 organizational factors, 145–147 predicting, 149–150 Coaching pyramid, 100 Cognitive formations, 30 Cognitive interventions, 105–106 Conceptual framework, 25–34 individual and organization in, 25, 26–27 multilevel forces in, 25, 29–31 unconscious forces in, 25, 27–29 use of self in, 25, 31–33 Conclusion of coaching case analysis, 140 case study, 139–140 early, 138 reasons for, 137–139, 162 Confidentiality ethical implications of, 153–154 in feedback process, 84 institutional, 154 in interview process, 73

in objectives setting, 94 Conflict of interest, 154 Contracts. See Coaching contracts Countertransference in case analyses, 112, 164, 165, 166, 168 defined, 28, 31 in formal coaching process, 106, 153 in therapeutic process, 28, 31 Data analysis in Empathic Organic Questionnaire, 122 feedback preparation, 83–84 Data gathering from coaching contracts, 65 at entry, 36, 41, 160 at initial contact, 36, 41, 42, 160 at joint goal setting, 57–58, 160 ongoing process of, 36–37 in preliminary meeting process, 47, 160 through assessment, 71–74, 162 through observation, 36, 71 Defense mechanisms in case analyses, 54, 63, 80, 90, 112–113, 166, 168 during assessment, 72, 73 in formal coaching process, 106 respecting, 106 Development, coaching for, 17 Diedrich, R. C., 16 Direct questions, in psychodynamic interviews, 72 Doyle, M., 16–17 Drath, W. H., 16 Dual relationships, 153 Dyadic method, in formal coaching, 106 Education/training, for coaches, 14, 15, 151, 152, 153 Embedded intergroup relations theory, 30–31, 159 Empathic Organic Questionnaire administration, 122

Index case study, 123–135 data analysis, 122 designing, 121 reasons for, 120–121, 162 sample questionnaire, 126–132 selecting respondents for, 121–122 Entry Clayton Alderfer on, 39 in coaching pyramid, 100 components of, 160 data gathering at, 36, 41, 160 repeated, 33, 74, 93 Evaluations. See also Empathic Organic Questionnaire of coaching efficacy, 162 from objectives setting, 94, 119–120, 123 outcome, 16, 94, 119–135, 162 Executive agenda, coaching for, 17–18 Executive coaching. See also Formal coaching; Methodologies approach overview, 160–162 conceptual framework for, 25–34 confidentiality in, 153–154 and conflict of interest, 154 demand for, 15 distinguishing from therapy, 18, 36, 47, 151–153, 168 and dual relationships, 153 education and training, 14, 15, 151, 152, 153 emergence of, 15 guiding theory for, 159–160 Margaret, as representative case, 3–14, 163–169 practice of, 36–37, 151–155 role variations, 17–18 steps in, 36–37 unconscious forces in, 25, 36, 99, 101–103, 151, 159 use of self in, 14, 25, 31–33, 36, 99, 151, 154–155, 160 Experiential data, 74

205

Failure of coaching, 143–150 client factors, 143–144 consultant factors, 147–149 organizational factors, 145–147 predicting, 149–150 Fairbairn, W. R. D., 28 Family-of-origin dynamics in case analyses, 111–113, 164–165, 166, 168 in case study, 107–108 in formal coaching process, 106, 153 Fantasy, in formal coaching, 106 Feedback, 83–91 case analyses, 89–90 case studies, 86–89 in coaching pyramid, 100 and confidentiality, 84 data analysis steps in, 83–84 in methodology literature, 16–17 objectives of, 35, 83, 162 oral report, 84–85 relevance to outcome evaluation, 123 reporting of, 84–85, 162 written report, 85 Formal coaching process, 99–115 boundary permeability in, 106 case analyses, 111–115 case studies, 107–110 foundation for, 100 intervention methods in, 105–107 meetings for, 101–105, 162 objectives of, 99 Freud, Sigmund, 27–28 The Gaight School Study, 20–22 Goal setting, 57–64 case analyses, 61–63 case studies, 59–61 data gathering at, 57–59, 160 management role in, 57–58 “Going native,” 149 Group-as-whole theory and coaching failure, 146–147 development of, 29

206

INDEX

Group dynamics and coaching failure, 146–147 impact of, 30–31, 146–147 and organizational theory, 29–31 Group memberships and coaching failure, 148 of consultant, 32, 33, 47, 148 inappropriate, 148 in organizational theory, 30 Group method, in formal coaching, 106 Henry, case study, 123–125, 131–133 Here-and-now interventions, 106 Homework, in formal coaching, 101, 102, 103 Howard, case study coaching contract, 66 initial contact, 42–43, 44–45 joint goal setting, 59–60, 61–62 preliminary meeting, 48–49, 52–53 Hypothesis development in case analyses, 44–45, 52–54, 62, 63, 67, 81, 90, 97–98, 163–164, 166 in case studies, 6, 96, 107 in coaching practice, 42, 47 ongoing process of, 37 Identity groups and client/manager relationship, 58 defined, 30 effect of, 30–31 in organizational theory, 30, 31 Indirect questions, in psychodynamic interviews, 72 Individual/organization connection as coaching premise, 25, 99, 159 in organizational theory, 18–22, 26–27, 31, 32 Individuation, 27–28 Information gathering from coaching contracts, 65 at entry, 36, 43, 160 at initial contact, 36, 41, 42, 160 at joint goal setting, 57–59, 160 ongoing process of, 37 in preliminary meeting process, 47, 160

through assessment, 71–74, 162 through observation, 36, 71 Initial contact, 41–46 boundary permeability in, 42 case analyses, 44–45 case studies, 42–44 data gathering at, 36, 41, 42, 160 Interactional patterns of client, 72, 160 Intergroup dynamics and boundary permeability, 30 impact of, 30–31, 146–147 leadership role in, 30 Intergroup intervention, in formal coaching, 106 Interpersonal behavior in coaching practice, 25, 159–160 and psychodynamic interviews, 73 in theoretical literature, 28, 29, 30–31 Interventions behavioral, 105 cognitive, 105–106 dynamic nature of, 36 here-and-now, 106 necessity for, 105, 162 organizational, 106 psychodynamic, 106 Interviews 360-degree, 72–73, 120 as assessment tool, 36, 42 and confidentiality, 73 for outcome evaluation, 120, 123, 162 psychodynamic, 71–72, 162 Intrapsychic forces in case studies, 107, 164, 166, 168 in coaching practice, 25, 31, 32, 99, 103, 105, 160 in theory, 26, 29, 31 Jack, case study assessment, 78–79, 81 feedback, 87–88, 90 formal coaching, 109–110, 113–115 Jeanne, case study coaching contract, 66 conclusion of coaching, 139–140

Index feedback, 86–87, 89–90 formal coaching, 108–109, 112–113 initial contact, 43, 45 joint goal setting, 60–61, 62–63 preliminary meeting, 49–50, 53–54 Jim, case study, assessment, 74–75, 80 Joint goal setting, 57–64 case analyses, 61–63 case studies, 59–61 and client/manager relationship, 57–58, 160 client ownership of, 57 data gathering at, 57–59, 160 Journaling, in formal coaching, 105 Jung, Carl, 27–28, 157 Kaplan, R. E., 16 Ken, case study formal coaching, 107–108, 111–112 objectives setting, 94–95, 97 Kiel, F., 16–17 Kilburg, R. R., 17 Kofodimos, J. R., 16 Kohut, H., 28 Leadership role in coaching methodology, 16 in intergroup relations, 30 in objectives setting, 94 Letter of agreement, components of, 65 Levinson, Daniel, 26–27, 29, 30, 107 Levinson, H., 18 Liberi, W. P., 16 Management client relationship with, 57–58, 160 and coaching failure, 143–144 and joint goal setting, 57–58 and objectives setting, 93 Margaret, case study central themes of, 14 introduction to, 3–14 multidimensional analysis of, 163–167 Mary, case study, 50–52, 54–55

207

Meetings for formal coaching, 101–105 for objectives setting, 94, 162 for termination of coaching, 162 Methodologies, 14 behavioral approach, 16 character change, 16–17 in coaching pyramid, 100 for feedback data analysis, 83 for outcome evaluation, 119–123, 126–130 qualitative, 71, 83, 121, 123, 125, 152, 160 quantitative, 121, 125, 152 Modeling, in formal coaching, 105 Motivation of client, determining 72, 160 Multidimensional executive coaching approach overview, 160–162 confidentiality in, 153–154 and conflict of interest, 154 distinguishing from therapy, 18, 36, 47, 151–153, 168 and dual relationships, 153 education and training for, 14, 15, 151, 152, 153 emergence of, 15 guiding theory for, 159–160 Margaret as representative case, 3–14, 163–169 practice of, 36–37, 151–155 unconscious forces in, 25, 36, 99, 101–103, 151, 159 and use of self, 14, 25, 31–33, 36, 99, 151, 154–155, 160 Multilevel forces in coaching practice, 99, 159–160 in organizational theory, 29–31 Negative thoughts, in formal coaching, 105 Objectives of assessment, 36, 71, 162 of feedback, 36, 83, 162 of formal coaching process, 99 in outcome evaluation, 119–120, 123

208

INDEX

Objectives (Continued) of psychodynamic interviews, 71–72, 162 Objectives setting, 93–98 case analyses, 97–98 case studies, 94–96 in coaching pyramid, 100 confidentiality in, 94 feedback as basis for, 85, 94 manager involvement in, 93 outcome evaluation from, 94, 119–120, 123 ownership by client, 93–94 procedure, 94 purpose of, 93–94 Observation as assessment tool, 71, 73, 74, 162 as data gathering tool, 36, 71 Oral feedback report, 84–85 Organizational groups, defined, 30 Organizational theory boundary permeability in, 29–30 and individual/organization connection, 18–22, 26–27, 31, 32 multilevel forces in, 29–31 requirement for training, 14, 151, 152–153, 168 and use of self, 31–33 Organizations boundary permeability in, 29–30, 42 coaching failure factors in, 145–147 and confidentiality, 154 group dynamics in, 29–31 individuals enmeshed in, 18–22 interventions for, 106–107 psychological side of, 26–27 working exigencies in, 101, 103, 162 Outcome evaluation, 119–135 case study, 123–135 research needed in, 16 through Empathic Organic Questionnaire, 120–123, 128–132 through interviews, 120, 123, 162 through objectives, 94, 119–120, 123

Overbounded organizations, 29–30 case analyses, 44–45, 52–53, 61–62 Ownership by client. See Client ownership Parallel processes in case analyses, 113 defined, 30 in formal coaching process, 104 Parent relationship, healing, 28–29 Performance, coaching for, 17 Personality in coaching methodology, 16 and role formation, 26 Personality disorders, 144 Positive reinforcement, in formal coaching, 105 Power differences, 30 Preliminary meeting process, 47–55 boundary permeability in, 47 case analyses, 52–55 case studies, 48–52 data gathering in, 47, 160 Psychoanalytic theory and unconscious forces, 27–29 and use of self, 31–33 requirement for training, 14, 151, 152 Psychodynamic interventions, 106 Psychodynamic interviews and interpersonal behavior, 73 objectives of, 71–72, 162 possible questions for, 72 Psychotherapy distinguishing from coaching, 18, 36, 47, 151–153, 168 theoretical foundations for, 27–29 Questionnaire, Empathic Organic, 120–123 Reconnection, in formal coaching, 101, 102, 103 Redirected questions, in psychodynamic interview, 72 Reframing, in formal coaching, 105

Index Relationships client/manager, 57–58, 93, 160 coaching, 58 dual, 153 parental, 28–29 Reports oral feedback, 84–85 written feedback, 85 Research on coaching antecedents to, 19–22 and Empathic Organic Questionnaire, 120–121 current, 16–19 and methodologies, 16–17 need for further, 15–16, 119 and roles, 17–18 Resistance during assessment, 73 in case analyses, 89, 90, 165, 167–168 in case studies, 10, 107 in formal coaching process, 101–103, 104, 162 respecting, 106 Richard, case study, 43–44, 45 Rimmer, E., 16–17 Role formation, 26–27 Role playing, in formal coaching, 105 Saporito, T. J., 16 Self-awareness, in client, 17, 100 Self-monitoring, in formal coaching, 105 Self-reflection in clients, 17 consultant need for, 14, 25, 31–33, 36, 99, 151 as intervention method, 106 Self-reinforcement, in formal coaching, 105 Self-talk, in formal coaching, 105 Self, use of. See Use of self Skills, coaching for, 17 Smith, Kenwyn K., 32, 69 Sonia, case study, 96, 97–98 Sperry, L., 17 Steven, case study, 76–77, 80–81

209

Sullivan, Henry Stack, 28 System-wide intervention in formal coaching, 106 Systemic forces, in case analyses, 54, 63, 163, 168 in case study, 124 and coaching failure, 147 t-tests, 122–123 Termination of coaching case analysis, 140 case study, 139–140 early, 138 reasons for, 137–139, 162 Theory and Alderfer, 29–30 embedded intergroup relations, 30–31, 159 and Freud, 27–28 group-as-whole, 29, 146–147 guiding, 159–160 and Jung, 27–28 multilevel forces, 29–31 object relations, 28–29 organizational, 31 and Sullivan, 28 unconscious forces, 27–29 use of self, 31–33 Therapy distinguishing from coaching, 18, 36, 47, 149–151, 168 theoretical foundations for, 27–29 360-degree interviews assessment through, 71, 72–73, 162 in case analyses, 52–53, 79, 81, 90 in case studies, 42, 48, 74, 123–124, 125 outcome evaluation from, 120, 162 Tobias, L. L., 18 Training/education for coaches, 14, 15, 151, 152, 153 Transference in case analyses, 111–112, 165, 168 in coaching theory, 18 in formal coaching process, 106, 153 in psychoanalytic theory, 27, 28

210

INDEX

Tremont Hotel Project, 19 Triangulation, defined, 115 Ulterior motives, and coaching failure, 146, 148 Unconscious forces and boundary permeability, 30 in case analyses, 45, 54, 61–63, 81, 97–98, 111–114, 124, 164, 165 and coaching failure, 144–145 impact on coaching of, 25, 35, 99, 101–103, 153, 159 in psychoanalytic theory, 27–29 uncovering through assessment, 36 and use of self, 31 Underbounded organizations, 29–30 in case analyses, 45, 53–54, 63, 163,165 Updating, in coaching meetings, 101, 102, 103

Use of self as assessment tool, 36, 71, 73–74, 162 in case analyses, 79, 80, 111, 113, 166, 167–169 as coaching tool, 14, 25, 31–33, 151, 160 during initial contact, 44 in feedback process, 83–84, 85 practice implications of, 154–155 Visualization, in formal coaching, 105 White, R. P., 17–18 Williams, K., 16–17 Winnicott, D. W., 28 Witherspoon, R., 17–18 Working alliance, 47, 54, 85, 90, 100, 124, 153, 164 Written feedback report, 85

Multidimensional Executive Coaching

Psychological dimensions of executive coaching

Executive Coaching: An Annotated Bibliography

Executive Coaching: Exploding the Myths

Psychological Dimensions to Executive Coaching (Coaching in Practice)

The 7 Steps Of Effective Executive Coaching

Executive

Executive

Executive

Executive

Executive

Executive

Executive Coaching: Developing Managerial Wisdom in a World of Chaos

Executive Coaching: A Guide for the HR Professional

Executive coaching: developing managerial wisdom in a world of chaos

Executive wisdom: Coaching and the emergence of virtuous leaders

Executive

Executive

Executive Coaching: The Essential Guide for Mental Health Professionals

Advancing Executive Coaching: Setting the Course for Successful Leadership Coaching (J-B SIOP Professional Practice Series)

Multidimensional Chromatography

Multidimensional Programming

Multidimensional Scaling

Multidimensional Palaeobiology

Multidimensional Chromatography

Multidimensional Chromatography

Multidimensional scaling

Multidimensional Scaling

Multidimensional Scaling

Multidimensional chromatography

Multidimensional Executive Coaching

Psychological dimensions of executive coaching

Executive Coaching: An Annotated Bibliography

Executive Coaching: Exploding the Myths

Psychological Dimensions to Executive Coaching (Coaching in Practice)

The 7 Steps Of Effective Executive Coaching

Executive

Executive

Executive

Executive

Executive

Executive

Executive Coaching: Developing Managerial Wisdom in a World of Chaos

Executive Coaching: A Guide for the HR Professional

Executive coaching: developing managerial wisdom in a world of chaos

Executive wisdom: Coaching and the emergence of virtuous leaders

Executive

Executive

Executive Coaching: The Essential Guide for Mental Health Professionals

Advancing Executive Coaching: Setting the Course for Successful Leadership Coaching (J-B SIOP Professional Practice Series)

Multidimensional Chromatography

Multidimensional Programming

Multidimensional Scaling

Multidimensional Palaeobiology

Multidimensional Chromatography

Multidimensional Chromatography

Multidimensional scaling

Multidimensional Scaling

Multidimensional Scaling

Multidimensional chromatography

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