The Magic in the Mess

OK – so the start of this post is a bit gross, but there's a point, I promise! Years ago, when I was a young girl, my dad had a really bad injury. The wound was savage and deep and all I wanted was to have him returned to me, fixed, as good as new, my happy, unbroken dad. But when he came back home, if anything, the wound looked worse. I raged that the doctors were rubbish and careless, but he explained to me, they’d done a clever thing. They were going to let the wound heal from the inside out. If they’d just stitched up the surface, all kinds of infections and generally bad things could have started to fester beneath. This way the body could take some time, do its own thing and heal itself, organically and thoroughly. A better solution – there would be magic in the mess.

This story keeps flitting into my mind lately. I’ve been working with a brilliant friend, Vernee Samuel, over the last year to develop some training on how to disagree well. We believe there is a growing need to help people sit more comfortably with different perspectives and ideas. This was our starting point when we developed Curious Not Furious – a suite of training that would help people manage (maybe even celebrate!) diverse opinions. 

We’d noticed how often people try to force quick consensus when they disagree — and how that only leads to discontent beneath the surface. So we created tools and guidance to help people stay open, curious and constructive instead.

With the training underway, what we’ve discovered has been really lovely. The core idea, that it’s inevitable you’ll think differently from other people about lots of things, has been liberating. Relieving people of the pressure to change others’ minds has been like offering a gift. Understanding that there’s more progress to be gained by listening than speaking allows people to relax.

And then there's the surprise bonus — the 'magic in the mess'. In the space we’ve created for conversation and building rapport, fresh ideas have appeared. Shared interests have surfaced. New ways of working have been proposed. The disagreements themselves have become a business strength.

Clumsily going back to my dad and his wound, it’s this slow, organic knitting together that creates something really strong and special. At a time when disagreement can so easily tip into conflict, superficial solutions are destined to fail. Take the time, tolerate the mess, it's worth it.

We believe really passionately in the power of ‘Curious Not Furious’. If you’re curious yourselves to see what impact disagreeing well might have where you work, or if you have a story or point of view you'd like to share with us, we’d really love to talk to you - let us know and we'll get in touch.

(Picture above of me and Dad in later years ... he was a man who was endlessly curious and rarely furious .... and, if he was furious, it was usually Man City's fault.)