Thursday, January 28, 2016

The Prevent Defence and its wider lessons

I love watching American Football. I’d better enjoy it while I can, because the game may well be doomed by the damage it does to the brains of its participants. On Sunday, my team, the Patriots, lost in a semi-final. Just as with all sports, I would have been thrilled for days had they won, but I was not fed up for more than a few hours after they lost. That is positive asymmetry.

One amazing thing about US football is how such a high percentage of games are decided by the last few plays. That is one reason that the sport creates such high drama so often. And it is not a fluke. The league goes to great efforts to equalise talent between the teams, which makes the Belichick/Brady dynasty in New England all the more remarkable.

But the main reason for the preponderance of close games is a set of smart rules. It is a very strategic game, and there is a spectrum of risk associated with plays. When a team is winning, it tends to choose less risky plays, while a team that is behind can roll the dice with a good chance of succeeding.

As an example, a basic rule is that the offensive team has four attempts to advance the ball ten yards. For most of the game and when winning, the fourth attempt is not used; if they fail in three turns, the fourth turn is used to kick the ball to improve field position. But as teams get desperate, they use all four attempts, and often succeed. The chance of gaining ten yards on four plays is a lot higher than with three. Even though the cost of failure is higher, its likelihood is lower. It is a brilliant design for a close game.

An extreme version is called the prevent defence, and you see it employed every week by many teams when they are ahead. When attacking, they choose plays that use more clock time even though they are less likely to succeed, especially because the opposition knows that is what you they are likely to do. In defence, they will allow modest gains for the opposition in an attempt to avoid a disastrous play.

From watching the game for many years, it is clear to me that the prevent defence is a hopelessly flawed strategy that usually fails, even against its own limited objectives. Somehow, it hands momentum back to the opponent and removes rhythm and even commitment from the team executing it. As the tide turns, so does confidence, and often outcome.

Coaches must observe this phenomenon and yet few are able to coach around it; everyone plays prevent to some extent in some positions, and doing so does damage. Partly, the conservatism of coaches is defensive against media or fan criticism – nobody was fired for buying IBM. And partly it is just human nature of players and coaches. Watching your own team play is always exciting and usually scary, but time seems to stand still when you are watching your own team trying to see out a game in a winning position: players feel the same, and become tense.

There was an extreme prevent defence type game in the quarter finals, when Carolina raced to a huge lead and then seemed to sit on it and invite Seattle back into the game, after which things became progressively closer and more tense, though in the end Carolina held on. This was notable because Carolina re by nature a positive team, and for the most part did not even plan on playing conservatively, it just happened. It is very hard to fight against what seems to be expected and what fits human nature.

Other sports have prevent defence type situations, but done as marked as US football. I have witnessed it in one-day cricket, when a team bowling first takes lots of early wickets but then starts playing conservatively. In soccer, leading teams substitute attackers for extra defenders, a move that frequently backfires as well. Arsenal used to have a Russian called Luzhny with few creative skills, who only ever appeared in the last ten minutes of games the team were winning.

There are any number of life situations where a sort of prevent defence happens, planned or not, and the NFL offers some lessons about how to approach them.

First, think business. Monopolists with long-term indefensible positions, often energy companies, often resort to a sort of prevent defence. It can happen in technology or consumer companies as well. Microsoft seemed to be almost paralysed during a long period when it was trying to prolong its Windows stronghold. Tobacco companies are always on the defence, and companies like McDonalds and Coke appear to be joining that group just now.

It is not a hopeless strategy, as tobacco companies have demonstrated for years, but it requires a certain mindset among staff and leaders that many struggle with. Often at Shell I sensed that we were playing prevent defence, consciously or not, and I became comfortable with it, somehow finding the rhythm required. Just as in sport, the challenge to retain some focus, and some ability to become aggressive again when the situation demanded it. Few companies would actively promote a defensive strategy, and maybe that is wise, given the effect such a thing has in sport.

Then there are individuals in defence mode. Maybe there are senior managers or bureaucrats just seeing out their time until retirement and avoiding risk or even unnecessary effort. It can happen in a marriage or parental relationship too, settling into a routine that just avoids – or in practice usually defers – conflict. It is easy enough to see how this might happen, but the end result is more often than not the same as in sport, a failure. It is not silly of companies to pension people off via early retirement. In human relations, the strategy has merit, but usually we sink so far into it that we can’t crawl out again when we need to.

A less obvious example comes from political campaigning. Have you noticed that many campaigns follow a similar polling path? If one side is well ahead, quite often the lead is progressively narrowed, until just before the election one or polls show that the lead has vanished completely, and then there is a panicked change of strategy that can lead anywhere. Isn’t that just like an NFL game?

If we look at recent or current campaigns, the Scottish referendum fits the profile well. The establishment desire against independence was built on a negative logic and a passive campaign, almost hoping that the issue did not ignite passions. This prevent defence style backfired and a panic set in through the last days of the campaign, when polls were suggesting a vote for independence. Like Carolina, the campaign did just enough to stave off defeat.

I feel that the Hillary Clinton campaign has similar characteristics. She’ll win the nomination as long as Sanders does not succeed in too many fourth down plays, and then may well win the general too if Trump or Cruz becomes the opponent and logic and the establishment carries her home. But this is a risky game, as she should know well already after her experience in 2008. Already, her responses to Sanders have not been well managed, and part of the reason is that the whole mindset of her campaign is a defensive one. Bush and Rubio had the same sort of approach and may already be consigned to failure as a result.

The UK referendum on leaving the EU fits the profile too. There is a sort of defensiveness and arrogance about those arguing to stay in that could easily backfire, and I really question their readiness to step up when the crisis comes and the polls are sliding against them.


The parallels and lessons from the NFL prevent defence are clear. Try to avoid the strategy in the first place, instead play positively and bravely. Know that time and the rules favour the challengers, so avoid arrogance at all costs. And if you find yourself sliding into the quicksand of caution, escape before you are engulfed.       

Monday, January 18, 2016

Over- and under-functioning

It seems to be my month for researching personality and relationship issues. Once again prompted by Oliver Burkeman in the Guardian Weekly, I came across another new concept, that of over- and under-functioning within a relationship.

I was especially drawn to this concept because, once more, it resonated with me academically, and I also had some personal experience to draw on.

It seems that in any pair, be they for example business partners, romantic partners or parent and child, there is a risk of a cycle where one partner over-functions and the other under-functions. If there is a natural division of responsibility, with each adequately taking responsibility for their own life within the relationship, then over- and under-functioning implies some sort of breakdown. One partner takes on more than their natural share, while the other abrogates their responsibility and relies on their partner.

Of course the problem is that these habits become reinforcing, and a pattern develops that becomes gradually more extreme and very difficult to break. The under-functioning one becomes gradually less and less able to take on tasks, and the over-functioning one observes this and compensates more and more.

This feels to me to be a realistic and helpful model. Indeed, I might even speculate why the problem is not even more common than it is. This aspect of most relationship types feels like a natural state of unstable equilibrium, with any imbalance only likely to worsen over time.

Even worse, we are probably naturally attracted to people with the opposite tendency. Two over-functioners together probably boss each other to distraction and fight over everything for control, while two under-functioners would struggle to get much together in the first place. We might be pre-destined to play out our dysfunctional roles.

Over-functioning and under-functioning personality types manifest themselves in various symptoms. The former group can value control too highly, while the latter can be subject to depression, and easily slide into addictions.

One great thing about the model is that it provides its own route to solutions, without needing lots of assessments and counseling – though of course in many cases this can help and may be required.

The key seems to be for those of us that over-function to recognize this and step off the gas pedal in our relationship. Relying on the under-functioning partner to make the first move will probably result in a long wait. But the over-functioning party simply needs to stop doing things before the partner gets around to it, and indeed to allow things to go undone and for the partner to face the consequences.

That is tough, but so much easier than starting with our partner. It just needs recognition, some patience, and sticking it out when there are consequences. If the situation is entrenched, it will take time to change, but that is surely the way to try.

Once there have been a few disasters and then a few situations where the under-functioner manages to avoid disaster all on their own, then the partners can discuss together a way forward, including a division of tasks that shares the load and allows the under-functioner to rebuild confidence.

Given the tendency towards unstable equilibrium, how can we avoid the trap in the first place? I have not read anything about this, but I wonder if one key is allocating tasks according to strengths and preferences. There are some aspects of a shared life where I would be a diehard over-functioner, but there are other aspects where I would find it easier to delegate. Just like in trade or business, specialism is a fine thing for everyone.

Even when there is specialization in place, it does us good to reverse roles every so often, just to maintain our abilities and to keep things fresh. On our recent holiday, I consciously delegated all financial and agenda-related matters. I am sure I was not easy to put up with and that I looked like I was always ready to criticize or to shout “I told you so”, but it worked, and actually by the end of the holiday it felt quite liberating.

A parent-child relationship is interesting in this context. Here, the challenge is to gradually row back from what starts as an OF-UF relationship out of necessity. It may be that parents who are natural over-functioners in their other relationships are the ones who need to learn to let the child grow through taking responsibility and making mistakes. None of us find that easy, but some personality types will find it easier than others.

I was for many years in an extreme OF-UF relationship, as the over-functioning partner. Often such relationships degenerate further into some kind of dependency and co-dependency. These are all concepts that I knew nothing at all about until I made the decision to address the flaws in that relationship, or actually until just afterwards, when I was in a cycle of counselling and help groups and trying to read up about what might be going on.

One tragedy is that I let things drift along for so long, although people have told me that all other options might have been even more tragic. But another tragedy is how I only really started analyzing and studying after it was too late, because I had already stacked the odds even more against a happy resolution by choosing the initial approach I did.

Probably in common with most, I diagnosed that all the problems lay with the under-functioning partner, and therefore it was incumbent on then to find solutions. But of course years of under-functioning and associated problems had removed all the useful tools for this to happen, and the approach I took only served to undermine confidence still further.

Probably there was no likely route to success. But if I had started by putting a mirror against my own behaviour and changed that first, then at least there might have been at least a small chance of a resolution.

This is why I think articles about these models are potentially useful. Burkeman does a good job of explaining complex issues in simple language. No doubt many experts see his articles as gross simplifications leading to all sorts of erroneous self-diagnoses and false remedies. They are probably right, but I believe they neglect the positive side.

Most of us drift through life blissfully unaware of our own dysfunctions. If we can find ways to know more about ourselves, we can sometimes fix our problems before they become too severe. I am sure my case is similar to many, in that I only started seriously researching, and also finding fantastic help from wonderful groups, once the situation had got beyond redemption. I just wonder if my life had been different if I had read the OF-UF article fifteen years earlier.

This is another context where the internet is such a superb resource. Having been aroused by a simple article, it was easy to explore further, as deeply as I wished and down whichever alleyways I chose. That would have been so much more difficult before the internet.

Finally, there is an analogy with physical medical issues. Don’t we just hate people who always turn a small ache into a major crisis, and fuel their hypochondria through the internet? And if we struggle with them, imagine how the medical profession feels, having to deal with all these new-fangled experts in their surgeries week after week. No wonder they all turn out like Doc Martin!


But before we write off these self-help sites as bad, we should remember the alternative. True, there are risks from amateur misdiagnosis and flawed remedies and the fear that comes from belief that we might be sick. But if the downsides are matched by a few successful early diagnoses, the balance might be a good one overall. Making our physical and mental ailments more widely understandable might be an important achievement of modern societies.    

Thursday, January 7, 2016

Giving Feedback: Is the Sandwich stale?

This is the time of year for annual staff reviews. Line managers everywhere will be arranging appointments with their staff to discuss 2015 performance and 2016 plans. A lot of feedback will be offered, some expected and some a surprise, some welcomed and some rejected, some acted upon and some ignored.

In common with most managers, I was taught years ago to offer feedback in a sandwich form. I should start with something positive, then make the development point, and finally revert to a positive aspect. I never used this method religiously, but it certainly had its place in my sessions. So I was shocked to read last year that some people questioned its value.

My shock came from reading the wonderful weekly column of Oliver Burkeman in the Guardian Weekly. It is amazing to me how many models and other useful life aids he has up his sleeve, and almost always his words resonate with me as soundly based, worthy of consideration and also practical to apply. I recommend him wholeheartedly.

His damnation of the legendary sandwich was almost offhand, including as a minor digression in a wider article. But it was so diametrically opposite to my previous assumption that it got me thinking for myself about the pros and cons of sandwiches.

Burkeman claimed that sandwiches cloud the issue. Quite often, people are predisposed to think negative or positive things about themselves and their abilities. Someone thinking negatively will ignore the bread from the sandwich, no matter how it is dressed up, while the positively predisposed will gloss over the meat without really taking it in. So the key point, whether intended as positive or negative, is in danger of being lost in the fog.

Further, the sandwich does nothing to frame an overall opinion of the manager about how the staff member is doing. It is possible that the manager finds the employee stellar, and finds something relatively trivial in her mind for the meat. It is also possible that the meat is a fundamental blocking attribute to performance, something that would have dire consequences if not addressed, yet does not come across this way surrounded by layers of bread. In this instance, the employee could receive a series of well-constructed sandwiches through the year from the line manager, yet be completely surprised when the overall ranking is announced or promotions considered.

Finally, and linked to the points above, the sandwich is now so widely used as to be expected. This creates a game in which the employee receives the sandwich with some cynicism, concluding that it is somehow artificial and seeking to unravel the code within – correctly or incorrectly.

So Burkeman says it is time to dispense with such an artificial construction, and just give feedback directly. If everything is meat, then make that plain. If there is no meat, don’t try to make some up. Speak plainly to be heard and to avoid any misunderstanding.

Thinking about it, it is clear to me how the sandwich came into being. It was precisely because many managers followed Burkeman’s advice and spoke plainly, but without enough guile or context, and HR departments and more senior managers were left to pick up the pieces from broken relationships and disputes. A bullying line manager can make an employee’s life a misery, with no apparent route out of a huge hole, while a weak line manager can gloss over issues and create a different sort of disconnect. HR will have seen the sandwich as a neat solution, good enough in many situations, since it forced the bully to make efforts to maintain confidence in staff and force the coward to at least mention problems.

But, thinking about it, what an unsatisfactory compromise it is. Burkeman is right! The sandwich should be discarded in the dustbin before someone gets listeria. Instead, we just need to remember one keyword, which is context.

Just launching in with a piece of feedback, whether positive or negative, can misfire. The recipient will wonder where it has come from and wonder if there is more to it than stated. That said, feedback is so valuable that we should consider offering it, in the moment, in many situations, not just up and down a management line. I often preface with “Would you mind if I gave you some feedback?” as a discussion starter. Usually, people quickly get over their surprise and are curious and open. Then I’ll make some remark saying that I have no idea how they do their job generally and am only acting on what I observe with a motive to help them, and then launch in. I get all sorts of responses, but gratitude is the most common.

For behavioural feedback, I like the model where you state what you observe, explore how that might come across, then discuss alternative behaviours and how they might come across better. It takes a bit of practice to follow this, but it shows that your motivation is the right one and tries to be practical with solutions.

If giving feedback in the moment, the most valuable kind since the example is fresh in everyone’s memory, the context does not need to be too extensive, and the sandwich is especially clunky. A simple opener to establish motive and dialogue is enough. Of course if you show yourself as open to some feedback yourself it can only help as well.

In a line manager situation, context needs to be a bit wider. Here, a statement about how the team member is doing overall is a good way of setting the context, especially if the feedback you intend to give is negative or developmental for a generally effective staff member. Even if the overall performance is mixed, you can refer to where they are on their development journey and perhaps some other conversations or examples. Then launch in with the feedback, and try to invite a detailed discussion about it if possible. Finally, you can refer to consequences, both to the overall performance and the upside if improvement is possible. If you are planning to rank the team member below their expectations, then gently massage those expectations downwards, but with clear indications as to what might change the picture for the better or worse.

This method can sometimes feel like a sandwich, but should not be forced into a sandwich shape. In some situations, you might want to finish on a negative, highlighting consequences of the current path. You owe it to a team member to give as clear an indication as you can, so they can do something about it while they have time.

I always struggled to give enough feedback in the moment. It is hard. You don’t want to confront someone in a public setting, or at a time when you can’t be sure a conversation won’t be truncated. But that rules out most opportunities, so we have to really work to make other ones, and force yourself to take advantage when opportunities arise, even if that is a little uncomfortable. One option I like is to deliberately schedule short gaps between meetings. That allows for some overrun, and for changing meeting rooms, but it also creates space for quick 1-1 feedback sessions when they can be most valuable.


So the sandwich is dead, at least in Oliver Burkeman’s professional opinion and my own future practice. I wonder what other longstanding practices of mine are equally invalid? I’ll continue to read The Guardian Weekly to find out.