what I learned from a bar: leaning in in an age of skepticism

I am lucky enough to live within walking distance to the best bar. The 12th South Taproom patio is my favorite place to sit alone or with a friend as an afternoon unwinds. The food is fabulous, the wait staff happy to pretend we’re old friends, and the infinite selection of draft beer inspiring. My deep familiarity with the Taproom is sometimes shaken when I introduce a new friend to the bar. The problem is this: The wait staff appear to have no rules. They are cheerful, engaging and never in a hurry. They are so chill, in fact, that they share each other’s work constantly and seamlessly. I have come to love watching the dance they do, mostly because they remind me that my obsessions with efficiency and doing are powerful forces that dehumanize those around me.

At the Taproom, you sit wherever you want, and pretty soon a waitress bring you a menu. She grabs your drink order. A few minutes later, a waiter brings your beer, and then asks if you want to order food.  At this point, the first timer nearly always looks at the veteran with hesitation, then turns to the waiter, “Um, we already have a waitress, and she took our drink orders.”

Waiter: “That’s cool. I’ll take your food order.”

First timer: [Looks skeptical]

Veteran: “It’s a crazy system, but you can trust it. I’ll have the Cobb with Salmon.”

First Timer: “Okay. I’ll have the quesadilla.”

Minutes pass, your beer is getting low, and a totally different waitress walks by, asking if you want another round.  The first timer says sure, and picks up the beer menu to figure out what she ordered before. By the time she looks up, the waitress is gone.

First timer: “Wait, that wasn’t our waitress. How does she know what we ordered?”

Veteran: “I have no freaking idea, but they never screw it up and somehow they know already.”

By the end of the meal, the skepticism has vanished, your friend has met most of the wait staff, and she is starting to see why this neighborhood bar feels like a neighborhood. You all seem to know each other, and you trust that by being together, the doing will get done right.

I am a systems thinker; I love knowing how everything works. I also love being in control, so my first few visits to the Taproom thoroughly baffled me. Thrown by the casual way the entire staff shared every table, I was sure it was an inefficient system that would drop a lot of balls. But it wasn’t. And they don’t. It all runs perfectly, pretty much every time.

That was a ridiculously long set up just to say that I’ve been thinking about the relationships between doing and being, and the links between understanding and engaging. By adopting the practice of observing my own patterns, I realize I am a doer, and I typically don’t fully engage until I understand a thing or a person comprehensively. I like goals, and I like efficiency that is measured and consistent. This is why the Taproom baffled me initially; the system didn’t make sense to me. When I was a first timer, or even a first-few-timeser, I didn’t want to tell the random waiter what I wanted. I didn’t want to waste my time investing in a system that couldn’t possibly work. But then it did work. My need to understand a thing before I trusted it kept me from fully enjoying the moment I was in.

For those of us who prefer doing to being, trusting someone else’s excellence can be excruciating. We get disappointed a lot. But here is the thing: When I withhold my engagement because I’m not sure I understand or support exactly what is going on, I miss out on the life happening before me. I withhold myself because I trust my sense of things more than I trust the innovation of others. This might seems like good boundaries, but it is actually unchecked arrogance. The truth is trusting only my instincts diminishes the people around me.

Loving the Taproom without understanding how a stranger always bring me the right beer reminds me that my way of seeing and doing is not always best. It has taught me that I can fully engage in a system without understanding exactly how it works. It has taught me that sometimes I need to be instead of do. It has taught me that compulsive doing and fixing can be toxic not just to myself but to others. My need to understand before I engage greatly blocks my ability to empathetically be with those around me. My unhealthy need to do:  

1)   Makes me focus on process and product more than people. I lose sight of those around me or under my care when I focus on efficiency more than those contributing to the system. I simply cannot appreciate a person, their effort, or perspective, when I find value in them primarily through my understanding of their efficiency.

2)   Makes me a drag to be around. People see skepticism. People know when I withhold my active engagement, and they can sense when approval is not granted. When I only engage after I fully understand and approve of a process, I send signals that the people around me have to earn my love, my support, my presence.

3)   Makes me arrogantly value my perspective more than others. I trust my instincts, but I need to learn to question my need to understand and do, because both urges often hinder me from appreciating others.

My ability to preemptively—and incorrectly—judge the way a bar organizes their staff serves as a reminder that my dual needs to do and understand are often wrong. We all have patterns of behavior that determine how we engage with and value people. In a time when many of us seem to find little value in unfamiliar systems or peoples, it is necessary to actively resist the individual habits that keep us from engaging. I am convinced the only way for me to appreciate a person different from me is to spend time being fully present with them. To lean in, instead of hanging back until I assess their worthiness. Observe yourself. Do you withhold your full engagement until you are 100% convinced others have earned your presence? Does your need to fix or do hinder your ability to be present? When are you likely to withhold? As a society we face fragmenting forces from many arenas; it behooves us to make sure we are not one of them. When we withhold our presence from those around us, it is nearly impossible to affirm their dignity or enjoy discovering the differences among us. Question your instincts, and others might surprise you.

weaponizing civility in an age of authentic meanness

People in my world have lately become consumed with the Enneagram. It is not a new thing; rather, it is a centuries old way of understanding nine perspectives on how to approach and respond to the people with whom we share this earth. Lately, Nashvillians are obsessed. To be fair, other parts of Nashville are annoyed. Supremely annoyed. I was at a party last night, and when a friend came in and heard us talking about enneagram numbers, she rolled her eyes, turned on her heal, and said, “I’m going to get an alcohol.” Hilarious.

According to enneagram teaching, some personality types crave authenticity more than others. For those of us who strive to transparently reflect our own authenticity, we also highly value this trait in others. We struggle to understand how others spend so much energy to project an image that might differ from reality. We struggle to understand how others can work so hard to choose their words carefully rather than just articulating how they feel. We can begin to feel that any effort to revise or improve our interaction with the world is not authentic, and therefore a lie. This is a dangerous assumption.

Incivility is not a sign of authenticity.

While I hear and have contributed to the enneagram mania, I also hear a lot of people wondering where our civility has gone. We find ourselves in an age where incivility seems to impress people, where truth telling is only recognized if it is laced with meanness. Treating each other civilly, with kindness and respect, seems insufficiently weak. Encouraged by our leaders to fear others and blame those who disagree, we see the world through binaries. Because we have often lost the ability to see the many facets of a problem and the myriad possibilities in solutions, we become uncivil. Civility is born out of mutual respect, and I’m afraid if one affirms their respect for an adversary now, one is accused of being inauthentic.

What are authenticity and civility? How do we recognize them? Are they good? Are they inherent or are they products of discipline? I believe humanity is at its best when they are both on display, but I am now aware that for many, these two ideas are diametrically opposed. In the last 2 years, civility has become the enemy of authenticity. Put another way, in many circles, the presence of civility exposes one’s inauthenticity, while incivility confirms authenticity.

This is wildly untrue, and yet easily believed by many of us. It goes something like this:

  • We want leaders who are authentic and who tell the truth, too bad if your feelings get hurt in the process. 
  • Civility doesn’t get stuff done, and I’m tired of tiptoeing around instead of telling it like it is.
  • If you say something that is not politically correct then it means you’re authentic, so I trust you.
  • You cannot authentically believe in this cause and be civil to those on the opposing side; you prove your loyalty to us by being dismissive of them.

I’m interested in how our desire for authenticity affects the way we relate to each other in the public sphere, particularly around the ideas of political correctness and civility. For a segment of the population, authenticity dispels political correctness, and political correctness is a sign of insincerity. This is problematic for at least a few reasons. First, it is based on an idea that the best measure of authenticity is meanness. It suggests that deep down we are all jerks who have disdain for anyone who might contradict or even affect us. It assumes that to be authentic is to be unkind. It assumes that the only way to honestly reflect oneself to others is with rudeness.

Second, it undermines political correctness not just as inconvenient for the speaker, but as a problem for a society who prefers authenticity. It equates political correctness with dishonesty, a supposition that leads a person to best demonstrate her authenticity by violating norms of kindness. In this equation, to be politically correct is to be fake, while being insensitive to or dismissive of others is the mark of authenticity.

Third, when we pit political correctness (or civility) against authenticity and therefore trustworthiness, we create an atmosphere where trustworthy leaders are those with the lowest regard for the value of others. We reward leaders who earn our trust by honestly disparaging others with demeaning authenticity.

Fourth, it is easy for us to mistake civility for political correctness. When being politically correct is the opposite of honesty or authenticity, civility—mistaken for political correctness—becomes a mark of weakness or a sign of untrustworthiness. Accusations of civility are actually weaponized to expose a person as weak and inauthentic. Civility dies when authenticity is misunderstood.

In enneagram parlance, as an 8 with a strong 9 wing, I crave authenticity in making things right, but I hope to do it in a way that elevates everyone’s value. In regular-speak, I hope to remind: You don’t have to be an asshole to be a passionate or effective leader! You are not selling out your cause if you are kind to people with whom you disagree. You can be both authentic and civil. You can tell it like it is in a way that keeps the conversation going, rather than shutting it down. It is easy to blame “them” for our rejection of civility. It is easy to think it is “their” fault that so many of us confuse bullying for refreshing authenticity.

It begins with me though. As a member of society, it is on me to find a way to authentically advocate for my values without damaging others in the process. It is my job to speak with civility even when I passionately disagree. If I can’t do it on my own back porch, or in the break room at work, or in the stands at the ballpark, then I have no business blaming “Washington” for our incivility. Authenticity is not demonstrated through incivility. Let’s stop blaming “them” and instead become authentic leaders committed to civility in our own circles. If we do so, we will expand our notion of “us,” and remember we are a people who need each other.

autocratic tendencies: is the president changing us?

Next week, Helsinki, Finland will host a Trump-Putin Summit. President Trump has requested that he be guaranteed a meeting with Vladimir Putin in total privacy, with no witnesses present. As these two leaders come together, I am saddened by their apparent similarities, and even more grieved by the impact they have on the rest of us. A year ago this week, Presidents Trump and Putin met face to face for the first time during the G20 gathering in Hamburg, Germany. In an article juxtaposing violent protests with that friendly and longer-than-planned encounter, in which both parties accepted as fact assurances repeatedly disproven by professional journalists and intelligence agencies, Edward Lucas, writing for CNN, reports “the sight of two autocratic, media-hating leaders with dodgy business connections getting together.” He describes Putin and the President of the United States, our President, with the same words: “autocratic”, “media-hating” and “with dodgy business connections.”

While it is easy to lament the similarities in these two leaders, and the abandonment of an honorable ideal that President Trump represents in my view, I am more concerned with the trickle down effect I see him having on the cultural norms of Americans. What happens to a society when there is no expectation of integrity in the leaders upon whose discernment we depend? What happens when strength and leadership are proven through unchecked power and unilateral decision forcing? What happens when people in power decide who is safe, who is human, and who is welcome, while all others are treated as hostile, animalistic and terrifying? What happens when differences of opinion are demonized and multiple angles of an issue are excluded as biased, fake news? 

I’m afraid that “what happens” in these hypothetical instances are the things we see happening all around us. Our multi-branched government can’t function with an autocratic leader, and inciting violent disdain for reporters who challenge authority undermines a society that theoretically champions our 1st Amendment. Despite the perspective coming from the White House, encountering diverse perspectives strengthens my ability to appreciate others, increases my understanding of complicated issues I need to navigate, and contextualizes my experience as an adult living in Nashville, TN in 2018. Autocratic leadership forgets that we need each other. I suspect that a quick glance at any of our pasts demonstrates the idea that we are all encouraged, challenged, matured, helped or advanced by the input of others.

We know what our President refutes. Humanity only works in community.

We not only need others, we specifically need people whose experiences differ from ours. During last year’s G20 Summit, my 13 year old learned to ride a motorcycle at my parents’ farm. My dad taught me to ride when I was 8, and his bikes had not been started for years. While I could teach my son the delicate rhythm required between the clutch and gears, or the ins and outs of cranking, braking and balancing, I did not have the experience required to take a carburetor apart. Luckily, my dad does, so my son not only learned to ride a dirt bike, but how to take apart, clean and rebuild a carburetor as well. Yes, I could teach him to ride, but no, I could not have started the bike in the first place without my dad’s distinct experience and expertise. We need each other.

Nevertheless, I see evidence, modeled best by our President, that our society is functioning in a way that meets difference with not just skepticism, but outright disdain. This is a failing strategy. Surely each of us knows our experiences would be severely limited if we refused to hear or learn from the people around us. Knowing this, we must expose the idea of being “autocratic” as a terrible way to lead. Deriving all knowledge exclusively from the self is limiting. When that self has unchecked power, it leads to tyranny, and is an affront to American governance.

Autocracy is decidedly not democracy. Nevertheless, consider: Are we moving toward autocratic ways of thinking and acting? We see these traits in our President as he discredits a disagreeing judge, refuses to follow the suggestions of an office created to help him manage his affairs ethically, insults people who approach a problem from different angles, ignores experts, uses Twitter to bully and even fire supporters, shames allies and dismisses professional reporters as irrelevant and dangerous. We cannot change his habits. Indeed, it appears we cannot even challenge his proven track record of unethical speech, action and business deals. Even as we find ourselves powerless in the face of such autocratic and media hating habits, we can actively resist our tendencies to follow his lead. 

Just as importantly, as a person who has been offended by our President dozens of times, I also speak to those of us who self-righteously claim to be nothing like him. Sure, it is easy to spot friends who make life choices based on a foundation of fear and mistrust of the ‘Other.’ Sure, it is easy to roll my eyes at people whose news sources prove to be driven not by facts and thoughtful reporting but by allegiance to a specific perspective. Sure, it is easy to pity people who live in a virtual hivemind, only trusting those who share a single perspective.

Here is the kicker: I do the same! I have autocratic tendencies! I belong at the Trump-Putin Summit!

Am I capable of dismissing the perspective of a person I disdain? Am I capable of thinking I know all, that I am best equipped to make a decision without consulting others? Am I capable of behaving unethically in certain parts of my life, while galloping across the moral high ground when it suits me? Am I capable of distrusting someone because of a stereotype, or ignoring experiences that challenge a notion I hold dear? Yes, to all of the above, yes.

In short, all of us have a part to play in resisting powerful leaders who could do us harm. Rather than railing on about how Trump and Putin deserve each other, lamenting how low the US has fallen in the eyes of the world, perhaps each of us should do a personal inventory, examining our own “autocratic”, “media-hating” and “dodgy business dealing” spots.  Those of us most appalled by our current regime might just fit right in. Changing norms change people unless they resist.