Discourse we’d rather avoid

We have all been there. A colleague says something that bothers us. A manager is not addressing an issue everyone can see. An employee’s behaviour is becoming increasingly difficult. A misunderstanding has taken on a life of its own. Or perhaps we simply need to have a conversation that we know is going to be uncomfortable.

Our first instinct is often to avoid it.

Honestly, that instinct is understandable. Difficult conversations can make us nervous. We worry about upsetting someone, damaging a relationship, saying the wrong thing or making a situation worse.

Sometimes we tell ourselves the problem will resolve itself. We decide to wait for a better time. We send the email instead of having the conversation. We hope if we give it a little more time, somehow it will become easier.

But there is something important to remember: avoiding a conversation is also a decision. We are still choosing an outcome; we are simply choosing not to address the issue directly. And very often, the cost of avoiding the conversation is much greater than the discomfort of having it.

That is one of the reasons Crucial Conversations: Tools for Talking When Stakes are High, by Joseph Grenny, Kerry Patterson, Ron McMillan, Al Switzler and Emily Gregory, has remained one of my favourite books about communication.

The book is built around a simple but powerful idea: some conversations matter enormously precisely because they involve high stakes, opposing opinions and strong emotions.

Those situations are not limited to HR. They happen everywhere: at work, at home, with colleagues, friends, family and managers. But in the workplace, they are particularly important.

A difficult conversation handled poorly can damage trust, increase tension and turn a relatively manageable problem into a much bigger one. A difficult conversation handled thoughtfully can do the opposite. It can create clarity, strengthen relationships and give people an opportunity to move forward.

One of the things I appreciate most about Crucial Conversations is it does not suggest there is a magic phrase that will make difficult conversations easy. Instead, it asks us to look at ourselves first.

The authors call this “Start with heart.” Before opening our mouths, we need to get clear about what we actually want. What do we want for ourselves? What do we want for the other person? And what do we want for the relationship?

That can be surprisingly difficult when emotions are running high. When we feel frustrated or hurt, our goal can quietly change. We may start the conversation wanting to solve a problem and end up wanting to prove that we are right. We may want accountability, but underneath that, we might also want someone to feel bad. We may tell ourselves that we are being direct when, in reality, we are simply angry.

Taking a moment to step back can change everything.

Imagine, for example, a colleague repeatedly interrupts people in meetings. It would be easy to walk into the conversation thinking, “This person is incredibly rude.” It is much more productive to think, “I want our meetings to be respectful and inclusive, and I want this person to understand the impact their behaviour is having.”

The facts may not have changed, but the purpose of the conversation has.

The book then encourages us to “Learn to look” for signs a conversation is becoming unsafe or unproductive. People often respond to pressure in predictable ways. We may become silent, withdraw or avoid the issue altogether. We may move in the opposite direction and become argumentative, controlling or overly forceful. The authors describe these as patterns that can take us away from genuine dialogue.

Recognizing those patterns in ourselves is a valuable skill.

It is also why “Make it safe” is such an important part of the book. If someone feels attacked, judged or threatened, they are unlikely to be open to what we are saying. The goal is not to make every conversation comfortable. Sometimes, the subject itself is uncomfortable. The goal is to create enough psychological safety that people can stay engaged in the conversation rather than becoming defensive or shutting down. The authors specifically recommend stepping out of the conversation when safety is at risk, rebuilding it and then returning to the issue.

That is a useful distinction for all of us.

Being kind does not mean avoiding difficult subjects. Being respectful does not mean watering down an important message. We can be both compassionate and clear.

Another of the book’s practical tools is “State my path,” which provides a framework for expressing our perspective without becoming abrasive. The idea is to share our facts, explain the story or interpretation we have formed, ask for the other person’s perspective, talk tentatively rather than presenting our interpretation as absolute truth, and encourage dialogue.

That last point matters. We can say, “Here is what I have observed, and here is how I am interpreting it. Help me understand what I might be missing,” rather than, “You clearly don’t respect anyone else’s time.”

The first invites a conversation. The second practically guarantees an argument.

Then comes one of my favourite parts of the approach: “Explore others’ paths.” Having said what we need to say, we need to listen. Really listen. That does not mean we have to agree with everything we hear. It means we give the other person an opportunity to explain their perspective and we remain curious about what we may not know.

This is particularly important because we are all experts at creating stories about other people’s behaviour.

Someone does not respond to our email, and we decide they are ignoring us. Someone challenges our idea in a meeting, and we decide they are trying to undermine us. Someone seems disengaged, and we decide they do not care.

Maybe those stories are accurate. Maybe they are not.

Crucial Conversations encourages us to separate what we actually know from the story we have created around it. That pause can prevent a tremendous amount of unnecessary conflict.

Ultimately, the goal is not to “win” the difficult conversation. It is to create enough shared understanding that something useful can happen next. The book’s final stage, “Move to action,” focuses on turning conversation into clear commitments and follow-through.

That is where good communication becomes good workplace practice.

We cannot control how another person will respond to a difficult conversation. We cannot guarantee that they will agree with us, appreciate the feedback or suddenly change their behaviour. What we can control is how we enter the conversation, how clearly we communicate, how carefully we listen and whether we are genuinely trying to reach a constructive outcome.

And perhaps that is the biggest lesson of Crucial Conversations: difficult conversations are not something we need to become fearless about. We simply need to become better at having them.

Avoidance is tempting. It gives us temporary relief. But the problem is still there, and often it grows while we are waiting for the perfect moment to deal with it. The conversation we are avoiding today may become the much harder conversation we have to have six months from now.

So the next time you find yourself thinking, “I really don’t want to have this conversation,” take a breath.

Ask yourself what you really want. Check the story you are telling yourself. Think about what the other person might be seeing that you are not. Find a way to make the conversation safe enough to have. Be honest without being harsh. Listen without immediately preparing your rebuttal.

It may still be uncomfortable. But uncomfortable does not have to mean unkind. And difficult does not have to mean destructive.

Sometimes, the most respectful thing we can do — for ourselves, for another person and for the relationship — is to have the conversation we would much rather avoid.

Tory McNally, CPHR, B.Sc., vice-president, professional services at TIPI Legacy HR+ (formerly Legacy Bowes), is a human resource consultant, relationship builder and problem solver. She can be reached at tmcnally@tipipartners.com.