Balancing voices
It was a warm crowd at the gig last night. A collective gathering of tolerance and good will.
The space around us shrunk as the time drew near for the headline band to appear.
The early birds cheerfully made room for late arrivals.
Most seemed to tolerate the wombats who burrowed through the front, clutching their beers.
Even the tall people – one of the few drawbacks of live music gigs – looked around before they assumed their position.
It was a nice balance of people’s different needs and interests. It felt like we all had the opportunity to enjoy the band and have a good experience
I bet you could write the next bit. Early birds, wombats and tall people – a diverse mix if ever I’ve seen one, just like with groups in a meeting or a workshop.
Good response. But not quite correct. The point of this yarn is about how groups in a work setting manage to balance their different personalities and preferences. This balance, or lack of, shows up most clearly in how people communicate and contribute.
I’m frequently asked how to you stop the loud people from dominating so the quieter people can speak. I think the example of last night’s crowd can help explain.
An outstanding element of the gig – apart from the amazing performance – was how the balance was struck between the voices of the audience and the singers.
Almost everyone knew the words to every single song – it was the 20th anniversary of the band’s breakthrough album – but the singers were louder than the audience. We could hear every word. Accompanied by a gentle, warm embrace of our own singing.
It’s not often that way. I usually move away from audience members who are singing along, out of tune. And I’ve seen Tex Perkins* berate the young men in front of him for drowning him out with their own voices.
But it worked beautifully last night. And we had nobody guiding or instructing us in ‘how’. There was no facilitator in the room, reminding people of their ‘group agreement’*’*.
I know what you’re thinking. Were we all of the same vintage? Of an age where we’d probably bought the original vinyl from the band at a gig back in the day? Not quite. True, there were a lot more bald heads and wrinkles than not, but it was an intergenerational crowd from all parts of the state, not just the inner city.
If a group of hundreds of strangers could strike the right balance between voices at a gig, there’s hope for meeting leaders who are frustrated with trying to strike the right balance between louder and quieter people in meetings. You know it’s a recurring problem and you’re wondering what you can do differently.
You bother because you want, and need, diverse voices and ideas to work through problems or leverage opportunities. And you want everyone to have a good experience. Imagine if they start finding reasons to avoid your meetings in the future (spot your ‘why’ right there!)
Here’s three things you can choose that help with both, simultaneously.
Favour structure over surprise.
Choose solo before group.
Embrace silence over chatter.
Structure / surprise
Quieter participants have told me that they don’t like surprises. Rather than putting them on the spot by calling on them, cultivate a structured environment that lets everyone, including those who'd rather pass, voice their thoughts in their own time. A tool I use is the speaking clock. If you’d like to see how that works, just reply with 'clock' in the subject line and I’ll shoot a quick video for next week. But only if a few of you ask 😊.
Solo / group
The question, ‘what do you think?’ usually results in a cacophony of the loudest voices. Avoid this by eliciting solo responses. Invite people to jot down their spontaneous reactions, giving them a minute or two to compose their thoughts. Some prefer preparation, others thrive on the fly. Cater to both. Those who like to prepare ahead will appreciate a quick video before the meeting about what they can expect, or a question to ponder, in your meeting invitation.
There are lots of choices about what you can do next with that solo bit of writing. From sharing in pairs to card storming. Which brings me onto……
Silence / chatter
This is a call to rethink brainstorming - please. Just watch how many participate actively and who fades into the background in your next one. Enter 'card storming': everyone writes down their ideas on similar cards, pass to their neighbour, who builds on the idea with a comment, or just reads it, all silently or to music. Pass on for a few rounds. It anonymises contributions and results in a diverse pool of ideas that can be themed or grouped in many ways.
Other ways to brainstorm without voices involve walking and walls, or a whiteboard, two lines and two markers and fun music, but I won’t go into those now.
These processes do more than help in one meeting. They carry a promise for all your meetings and workshops. I reckon that with repetition, your regular groups will create their own balance, just like we did at the gig last night.
Hey, if you’re wondering who the band was, send me an email with ‘band’ in the subject line and I’ll tell you. If you’d like to guess first, here’s a few clues: WA, fishermen, road trips, harmonicas and a luthier.
*Even one of Australia’s coolest singers got hot under the collar with the ‘loudest’ voices. We’re in good company.