Meet our expert: Debbie Low, President and CEO of the Canadian Sport Institute Ontario

Debbie Low
Debbie Low is a leading voice in Canadian high-performance sport, serving as President and CEO of the Canadian Sport Institute Ontario since 2005. Under her leadership, CSIO has grown from a team of five into a facility-based institute with over 50 staff across three locations, and her career spans roles from Chef de Mission at the 2008 Beijing Paralympic Games to Director of Sport for Toronto’s 2008 Olympic Bid. A recipient of the Queen Elizabeth II Diamond Jubilee Medal and recently inducted into the Class of 2026 Toronto Sport Hall of Honour, Debbie brings her strategic insight to Third Factor as a member of our Sport Advisory Board.

“How Can I Effectively Prepare My Team For The Day I Move Onto A New Role?”

Most leaders don’t get to plan their succession. Their succession plans them. A new offer arrives, a life change hits, or something else. We asked Debbie Low, president and CEO of the Canadian Sport Institute Ontario, how she thinks about succession in sport and business. At CSIO, “readiness” isn’t an abstract idea. It’s the difference between a medal and a missed final. The non-profit delivers sport science, sport medicine, and high-performance leadership to Canada’s Olympic and Paralympic athletes and coaches. The athletes it supports brought home 28 medals at the Paris 2024 Games. Debbie runs an organization built entirely around preparing people for the moment that matters. Succession planning, it turns out, is no different.

01. Coach yourself out of a job, starting now, not later

“Life is unpredictable,” Debbie says. “You don’t always get to choose when a successor takes over.” Her rule: build the foundation long before you think you’ll need it. Her goal as a leader is to make herself helpful, but never essential. A strong team should be able to function without its leader in the room. If not, the team is too dependent on one person.

02. Recruit a mirror you can’t argue with

Every leader has blind spots, and by definition, blind spots are invisible to the person who has them. So Debbie leans on her board chair, Ian Gordon, a former Loblaw Senior Executive. Because he sits outside the sport industry, he can offer a different perspective and challenge her assumptions. An outsider’s feedback isn’t clouded by the history and emotion that can obscure your view. Who plays that role for you? If no one does, it’s time to look for someone who can.

03. Turn “who might replace me” into an honest conversation, not a guessing game

Talk directly with the people on your team who could realistically grow into your role. Ask if they see themselves in your job one day. If they do, be straight: You can’t guarantee the job, but you can commit to preparing them to compete for it. Then get specific. Sit down with them and map out what the role demands. Be candid where they measure up and where they don’t. Sometimes the fastest path forward is sideways – a lateral move that builds the experience the top job requires. Give feedback often enough so that no one interested in your job is ever blindsided. The worst outcome isn’t someone losing the opportunity. It’s someone feeling they never had a real shot because you weren’t honest about where they stood.

04. Loop in the people who’ll actually make the call

A development plan is only as good as the intelligence behind it. Find out what the decision-makers need to see in a successful candidate, then build those exact requirements into how you’re preparing your people for succession.

05. Make the process the prize, not just the promotion

This is the hardest part to get right but the one that matters the most. If you frame the entire plan as a competition to become you, then you’ve built a pressure cooker, not a pipeline. Instead, make sure the skills, relationships, and track record your people build along the way have value on their own. That way, even if they don’t get your job, the work they put in still pays off for their career. Succession planning isn’t about finding your replacement. It’s about building a team so capable that when you move on, you know you’ll be missed. But you also know your team will be just fine. You’re giving a presentation. You’ve just shared an idea you’ve been preparing for weeks. Then you notice someone in the room cross their arms, lean back, and furrow their brow. The instinct, for most of us, is immediate: They don’t like what I’m saying. Maybe they’re angry. Maybe they’ve stopped listening. Maybe I should wrap up and get out. But here’s the thing: When it comes to reading nonverbal cues, you almost certainly have no idea why that person is reacting the way they are. And your assumptions are probably wrong.

When Reading Nonverbal Cues, the Trigger and the Reason Are Not the Same Thing

Research from Dr. Paul Ekman, the psychologist behind the Facial Action Coding System (FACS), identifies seven universal emotions that we can read on the human face across cultures: anger, disgust, surprise, fear, contempt, sadness, and happiness. Each of these emotions has a universal trigger. Anger is triggered by the obstruction of a goal. Sadness comes from the loss of something we value: a job, our credibility, or an opportunity. Fear comes from a perceived threat. These triggers are reliable enough that behavioural analysts, credibility experts, and coaches use them as a framework for understanding what someone might be experiencing. But here’s what that research doesn’t tell you: why someone is feeling this emotion right now. Why is the person crossing their arms in your meeting? They could be angry because your idea threatens a project they’ve spent months building. They could be sad because you just reminded them of a missed opportunity. Their shoulder could be sore. They could have gotten a text from their vet this morning about their pet and be carrying grief they have nowhere to put. Or they might love what you’re saying and be comforting themselves because they wish they’d known it sooner. They might also just be cold! Physical reactions to emotions do tell you something. They just don’t tell you everything. And when we assume they do, we risk getting it wrong.

Single Nonverbal Cues Are Routinely Misread, Even by Experienced Leaders

The crossed arms example isn’t hypothetical. It’s one of the most misread nonverbal cues in professional settings, largely because people feel so certain what it means. We’ve absorbed a cultural shorthand: arms crossed equals closed, resistant, defensive. But a self-hug (which is what crossing your arms actually is) is often a self-soothing response. We do it when we need comfort, when we’re processing something, or when we’re cold. Sometimes it can even signal confidence: I don’t need to open myself up to you. You need what I have. Other times, it may simply mean someone is deep in thought, taking in what you’re saying. Eye contact is another commonly misread nonverbal cue. Conventional wisdom says people avoid eye contact when they’re lying. Research suggests the opposite may be true. Skilled deceivers sometimes use more eye contact, watching your reaction carefully to calibrate their story. Meanwhile, someone avoiding your gaze might be doing so because they feel shame, they’re overstimulated, neurodiverse, or anxious for reasons that have nothing to do with you. A single cue tells you almost nothing. Behavioural analysts look for a cluster: multiple changes that deviate from what’s normal for that person. Not one crossed arm or one averted glance, but a constellation of variations that together suggest something worth paying attention to. That’s not because those cues clearly reveal what someone is experiencing. Instead, they signal that it’s time to ask questions and better understand what the person is experiencing in that moment.

Why Baseline Is the Key to Reading Nonverbal Cues Accurately

This is where relationships matter. The better you know someone, the more useful nonverbal cues become. That’s not because you know what they mean, but because you know what’s different from that person’s normal, or baseline, behaviour. One example: an engineering supervisor with a prominent eye twitch. His team learned quickly that the twitch was simply part of who he was. It was his baseline, constant and unremarkable. What they eventually noticed was that when things weren’t going well, the twitch stopped. That departure from his norm became a meaningful signal. Not because they knew what was wrong, but because they knew something was wrong. That’s the distinction worth making. A variation from baseline is an invitation to ask a question, not a conclusion to jump to. It tells you something may be happening, not what that something is. Cultural, demographic, and individual differences matter here, too. Someone who grew up in a culture where sustained eye contact is considered disrespectful or confrontational will behave differently from someone for whom it’s expected. Someone who fidgets constantly isn’t displaying anxiety. That just may be how they regulate. Or it could be something else entirely. Learning someone’s baseline is an ongoing process, and it pays off most when a conversation is at its toughest.

How Coaches Can Use Nonverbal Cues to Have Better Conversations

It’s easy during difficult conversations (giving feedback, talking about performance, or managing up) to make assumptions about why the other person is reacting the way they are. Their face flushes and you think: they’re angry at me. They go quiet and you think: I’ve lost them. They cross their arms and you think: they’re shutting down. Knowing that emotional triggers are universal and that a single nonverbal cue can have a dozen different causes gives you somewhere else to put your attention. Instead of monitoring yourself through their reactions, try becoming genuinely curious about them: That shift from self-monitoring to curiosity is where coaching begins. When you notice a cluster of changes from someone’s baseline, you don’t need to interpret it. Simply use it as an opening. Ask a neutral, open-ended question. Keep them talking. Let the emotional state they’re in – whatever it is and whatever caused it – become information you’re gathering, rather than a verdict. You don’t have to dig for the reason or try to “out” them in the moment for experiencing an emotion they’re not ready to share. It’s simply another data point. Be gentle and curious. Don’t force the conversation. Sometimes people need time to process what they’re feeling before they’re able to articulate or share their experience. The emotion isn’t about you. Or at least you don’t know that yet. And that uncertainty, once you’re willing to sit with it, isn’t a weakness. It’s the beginning of a real conversation.
This article draws on the work of Dr. Paul Ekman, the Emotional Intelligence Academy’s partnership with Manchester Metropolitan University, and former FBI investigator Joe Navarro.

Key Takeaways:

  • A single nonverbal cue tells you almost nothing. Crossed arms, avoided eye contact, or a flushed face can mean a dozen different things — look for a cluster of changes, not one isolated signal.
  • The trigger and the reason are not the same thing. Emotions like anger or sadness have universal triggers, but the specific reason behind someone’s reaction in the moment is almost never obvious.
  • Baseline matters more than the cue itself. Knowing someone’s normal behaviour helps you notice meaningful deviations — it doesn’t tell you what those deviations mean.
  • A variation from baseline is an invitation to ask, not a conclusion to jump to. Treat it as an opening for a neutral, curious question rather than a verdict.
  • Curiosity is where coaching begins. Shift your attention from monitoring yourself through someone’s reaction to genuinely wondering what they’re experiencing and why.

Meet our expert: Monique Kavelaars, Director, Assessments & Team Coaching

Monique Kavelaars brings more than 15 years of experience helping high-performing teams thrive — first in elite sport and now in corporate environments. An Olympian and Canadian National Team épée fencer, she competed at the Olympic Games, World Championships, and Pan Am Games. As Third Factor’s Director of Assessments and Team Coaching, Monique designs and facilitates leadership programs and workshops for global organizations, bringing an energizing, practical approach that helps teams build trust, communicate, and align around shared goals.

“I know there’s a lot going on in people’s lives that I don’t see: personal challenges, cultural background, identity. How do I make space for that without making it awkward or overstepping?”

When I first moved to Sweden after four years in Paris, I went from feeling fluent and capable to being a complete beginner again. There I was, sitting in a classroom for foreigners learning Swedish, fumbling through sentences a five-year-old could manage. The room was full of strangers. We had nothing in common. A dentist. Engineers. People who’d come for love, for work or for school. A few had no choice but to leave home. But inside that room, we were all beginners. That shared confusion did something: we became friends. A man from Ghana and I bonded over feeling completely lost. And because of that shared experience, it got easier for us to speak Swedish badly out loud. We took more risks with the language because neither of us feared looking foolish in front of the other. When I first walked into that classroom, I didn’t know anyone’s story. What I saw was a room of adults mangling their introductions. What was actually there were decades of careers, entire identities – all set aside to start over for reasons I’d never have guessed sitting next to them. That’s the part of coaching nobody tells you about. At work, what you see in others is only a small slice of their day. What’s actually shaping it is usually invisible. So how do you make space for all of that without making it awkward or overstepping? The answer isn’t to automatically know everyone’s full story. It’s to coach as if there’s always more beneath the surface that you can’t see. Here’s how to get started:

01. Get Curious About the Iceberg

You only ever see the tip. Don’t fill in the rest with guesses. I saw this most clearly when I was fencing at the World Cup. I was competing alongside a teammate from Algeria. It was Ramadan. She was fasting. That meant she had to be up before dawn to eat enough to carry her through the day – which could stretch to 12 hours if her results were good enough to keep her in the competition longer. To most of the room, she just looked a little quieter than usual and slower to warm up. A few competitors assumed she was having an off day. Our coach knew better, and so did the rest of us on her team. So we adjusted around her without making it a production: quieter check-ins, no unnecessary chatter before her matches, and extra time built into her breaks. Nobody outside our circle saw any of that. They just saw the tip of it, a fencer who seemed a little off. The rest – the fasting, the fatigue, the discipline it took to compete at that level while managing both – was entirely beneath the surface. This shows up in offices, too. If someone’s gone quieter lately, replies slower, seems distracted, don’t start with what you think is going on. (“You’re upset you didn’t get to lead the project.”) Ask something genuinely open instead: “I’ve noticed you’re a bit quieter lately. How are things landing for you this week?” You won’t get the full picture on the first question. But if you stay curious, you’ll be able to keep the conversation going until you actually start to understand what’s happening.

02. Build Real Psychological Safety

Safety isn’t niceness. It isn’t a shield from accountability. It’s a pattern people can predict. The Swedish classroom built safety in the way that any team environment can. People admitted what they didn’t know without it costing them. (None of us knew the language, after all.) That’s what Harvard leadership professor Amy Edmondson calls psychological safety. It’s the belief that speaking up won’t get you punished or humiliated. Safety isn’t announced; it’s demonstrated. Naming your own mistake plainly (“I misjudged the timeline on the client deliverable last week. I should have flagged it two days earlier.”) teaches people more than any values deck. They calibrate their own willingness to take risks based on what leaders do, not what’s written on a wall.

03. Balance Support and Accountability

Curiosity isn’t softness. It’s finding out what someone needs and still holding the line. Safety and standards aren’t a trade-off. They work as a pair. Without both, you get either comfort or anxiety, not real performance. When someone’s struggling to hit a deadline, keep the standard and the support as two separate moves. First, state the standard plainly: “This needs to ship Friday.” Then ask a separate question: “What would help you get there? More time, fewer meetings or something else?” Keeping those distinct means the bar doesn’t move; the support around it does. That’s what stops flexibility from quietly becoming a lowered standard. Nobody lowered the bar for my teammate at that World Cup. The standard never changed. What changed was the support around her, which allowed her to meet the standard. The iceberg doesn’t disappear because you ignore it either. It just keeps shaping what you see without you knowing why. Stay curious. Build safety as a pattern, not a policy. Coaching across differences isn’t about lowering standards. It’s about coaching the person who’s on your team.

Key Takeaways:

  • What you see is the tip of the iceberg. Ask open questions that leave room for an answer you didn’t expect, instead of filling gaps with assumptions.

  • Safety is shown, not announced. Naming your own mistakes plainly teaches people more than any policy on the wall.

  • Keep the standard and the support separate. Set the bar clearly, then ask what would help your team member meet it. The bar doesn’t move. The support does.


Meet our expert: Christopher Farris Zabaneh, Associate Trainer

Christopher Farris Zabaneh is a consultant and coach with deep expertise in leadership and communication. As an Associate Trainer for Third Factor, Chris delivers the 3×4 Coaching and Building Resilience programs for organizations including Acuity, CX Rail, RBC, and IGM Financial. With a background spanning mechanical engineering, improv, and executive coaching, Chris brings a rare combination of precision and presence to how leaders communicate and develop others.

“Why does my team say they understand, but then do something different?”

In almost every coaching program I run, someone raises the same issue: they direct their team members to do something – a task, a project, or something else. Everyone listens and nods. Then they go off and do something completely different from what was asked. They said they understood, but clearly they didn’t. Why does this happen? As leaders, we tend to assume the mistake belongs to the team. They didn’t execute correctly. But in many cases, the real problem is how the message was delivered and, therefore, understood. You could say it was lost in translation. Linguists have a term for this: “pragmatic misunderstanding.” It’s what happens when people interpret the same words differently based on context, assumptions, and experience. One reason this often happens is that, early in our careers, we start adopting “corporate speak.” We’re told to “be more strategic,” “show better judgment,” “support the team on this one,” or – one of my favourites – “get buy-in.” These phrases feel meaningful. They seem to carry weight. But they’re also vague, and they certainly don’t tell anyone what to do. So how can we solve pragmatic misunderstandings and offer clear direction that people will understand and follow every time? In the rest of this column, I’ll explain the mistakes leaders often make when conveying a message to the team, and how to avoid them.

The Concept-to-Behaviour Gap

Try this in your next team meeting: Ask everyone to write down their definition of the word “efficient.” Then have them read their answers out loud. If you’re lucky, a few responses will match. Usually, though, you’ll get almost as many different (albeit sometimes related) answers as you have people. That’s not a language problem – it’s a shared-meaning problem. This gap shows up often in office communications: in how leaders give direction, offer feedback, and coach people through performance issues. When we speak in concepts, we’re essentially asking people to match our exact interpretation – or to correctly guess what we mean. Some will guess right. Others won’t. And when they miss, we tend to label it a performance issue (their fault) when it’s really a communications issue (our problem).

What Clear Communication Looks Like

How can we start improving communication? Consider these concept-heavy phrases that managers use all the time, alongside what they should say: “I need you to try harder on this project” becomes “I need you to block uninterrupted hours for this work and check in with me by Thursday if you think we’re going to miss the target.” “Be more patient with this person” becomes “When they bring you a problem, ask them two questions to understand where they’re coming from before you talk about solutions.” “I need your support on this one” becomes “I need you to share your position in the leadership meeting on Tuesday and back the recommendation when questions come in.” See how vague statements and corporate-speak can easily be misinterpreted? And how clear direction leaves almost no room for confusion? We know what we mean when we’re giving directions. But others may not. In each of the examples above, the intent is the same, but only the second version of each is clear and observable. You’re no longer asking people to interpret what you said. You’re showing them what to do.

Define What You Mean In The Next Sentence

You don’t need to eliminate concepts from your communication entirely. They can be a useful starting point because they signal intent. The issue is stopping there. If you use a concept, follow it with specifics. A simple test can help determine if you’re being precise enough: Imagine three people with notepads listening to what you said. Would they all write down the same thing? If the answer is no, or even maybe, you’re not specific enough yet. Shifting from concept to behaviour takes practice, especially if you’ve been operating in corporate-speak for years. For example, telling an employee to “share your draft with the team for input before you finalize it” rather than asking them to “be more collaborative” can feel uncomfortable. You may feel like you’re over-explaining or being too direct. But you’re not. You’re being clear. The good news: Over time, this approach cuts confusion, reduces the need to redo work, and improves performance. It also sets a standard for your employees to follow. When people hear specific, observable language consistently from you, they will start to use it themselves. That’s when real clarity takes hold – and when what you mean and what you say is what gets done.

Key Takeaways:

  • Most communication-clarity problems in teams stem from concept-heavy language and assumed behaviours, not team performance issues.
  • Concepts like “be more strategic” or “I need your support” require interpretation. Actionable behaviours don’t.
  • It’s okay to speak in concepts as long as you follow them with specific, observable behaviour changes.
  • The gap between what you think you said and what your team heard is usually invisible. Ask questions to clarify their understanding.
  • When you consistently model specific, behavioural language, your team will start using it too.

Build Clarity Through 3×4 Coaching

Our 3×4 Coaching suite of programs help you learn and master the 3 plays and 4 skills that exceptional coaches use to deliver results and build commitment.

Contact us to learn more.

This article launches Third Factor’s Story Behind the Story series, in which we unpack the stories behind both iconic and under-the-radar Olympic and Paralympic moments. For our first feature, Third Factor CEO Dane Jensen sat down with Tessa Virtue – two-time Olympic champion and, with her partner Scott Moir, the most decorated Olympic figure skaters of all time. From the outside, the story of Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir’s career is simple: show up every four years and win. Gold in Vancouver, silver in Sochi, then, after retiring and un-retiring in spectacular fashion, gold in PyeongChang via one of the Winter Olympics’ all-time iconic performances But the story behind gold in 2018 is strikingly different than gold in 2010. The lead-up to 2010 in Vancouver was marked by overcoming both injury and conflict: “I had surgery to combat an overuse injury in my legs, and throughout the recovery process Scott and I stopped speaking. We just lost trust.” At the Olympics, Tessa was “counting the number of steps it would take to get to the cafeteria because I knew if I walked those 300 paces, I wouldn’t be able to practise or compete. And so, it felt like the ultimate Hail Mary just worrying about making it to the end of a program.” In the end, talent and hard work – on both recovery and the relationship – aligned to produce one shining moment. Tessa and Scott were crowned the youngest ice dance champions in Olympic history.  It was an incredible performance – and one that felt like it would be hard to repeat. “Stepping off the podium in 2010 … I’m not sure I really felt like a winner, if I’m honest,” she says. “There were a lot of factors that had to come together for us to win, and I’m not really sure if I knew stepping off the podium in 2010 that I could replicate that.” 
“We can BE the best, even when we’re not AT our best.”
At PyeongChang in 2018, on the other hand, “before our music even started, I felt different. I felt like a high performer, and I didn’t feel like I needed the judges’ results to prove that for me.”  And contrary to the feeling after the 2010 Games, after 2018, “there was real joy and satisfaction that came from the hard work, from the pressure, from all of the things that I would’ve found totally depleting two, four, eight or 12 years earlier.” So what changed? In our conversation with Tessa, three evolutions stood out: embracing discomfort rather than focusing on the number of hours spent in training; a deliberate shift in mindset from chasing perfection to pursuing excellence; and – above all else – a reclamation of personal power. 

01. Creating discomfort vs. over-training

After the over-use injuries and surgeries that characterized 2010, the comeback in 2018 was built on less training time – three hours a day instead of 12 – more recovery time, and using the limited training hours to deliberately create imperfect conditions to sharpen their resilience. Whether it was leaving the ice unflooded and chipped, pumping in crowd noise, or falling on command to practise recovery, each practice built confidence that, as Tessa says, “we can BE the best, even when we’re not AT our best.” Here’s Tessa discussing that process:
 

02. Pursuing excellence vs. chasing perfection

In Tessa’s words, “We needed to stop chasing perfection and instead pursue excellence … and once we took perfect off the table, we thought excellence was possible.” Their daily goal became showing up at an “8 out of 10”; not in effort, but in execution. Reframing their approach unhooked them from the impossible standard of perfection and freed them to connect with the joy and challenge of consistent excellence.  Listen to Tessa talk about this shift:
 

03. Becoming drivers vs. passengers 

At the heart of Tessa and Scott’s story behind the story is reclaiming a sense of agency and self-efficacy. After years of being “good little soldiers,” for their 2018 comeback, they stepped into the driver’s seat: assembling their own team, setting their own standards, and “operating as if we were the CEOs of our own business,” she says. “We had agency and autonomy, we really were steering the ship.” That changed their experience leading up to the Games and, she believes, made the ultimate win more fulfilling. Listen to Tessa talk about this shift:
Of course, the effectiveness of these shifts is not limited to sports. We can all benefit from: When Tessa and Scott made these shifts, the impact was transformative. In Tessa’s words, “I felt like I had the recipe for what it meant to be excellent.” Given the results, it’s a recipe that’s worth testing out for yourself.   Want to go deeper? Watch Tessa’s full conversation with Dane here:
 

Build Resilience In Your Organization

Bring the skills that elite athletes use to build resilience and perform under pressure to your organization. Contact us to learn more about our resilience programs.


Meet our expert: Karyn Garossino, Associate Trainer

Karyn Garossino
Karyn Garossino is an expert in performance under pressure and leadership development. A former Olympic figure skater and five-time World Championship competitor, Karyn holds a Master’s Degree in Psychology and Adult Education and has spent 40+ years being coached and coaching others. She works with leaders across business and government, teaches with Queen’s Smith School of Business, and helps individuals and teams transform pressure into growth.

“How do you collaborate with someone who is different from you in personality, style, or approach?”

When someone thinks, communicates, or behaves differently than you do, collaboration can feel difficult, frustrating, or even impossible. If handled correctly, however, you can flip these differences into opportunities that benefit both parties. Doing this effectively starts with understanding what collaboration is and is not. Collaboration is not compromise. Collaboration is the act of working with someone to produce or create something. Compromise often means splitting differences and giving up something you value so that each side “meets in the middle.” That’s give-and-take, but it’s often at the cost of optimal outcomes. Collaboration is something quite different. It’s a win-win mindset that grows the pie instead of dividing it. In genuine collaboration, both individuals bring their strengths, expertise, and perspectives to the table in a way that creates a better solution than either person could have produced alone. Collaboration requires: That willingness is essential. Research tells us that the most important factor in leveraging differences is Psychological Safety – meaning people need to believe they can share ideas, ask questions, raise concerns or admit mistakes.  So an openness on your part to practice genuine inquiry, rather than defend or persuade, will pay huge dividends. When collaboration works, both parties feel heard, and the result is broader, more innovative and more effective than a simple compromise.

Diversity: The Advantage and the Risk

Differences in personality, style, and perspective are not obstacles; they are assets. Research shows that diverse teams often outperform homogeneous ones because they bring varied perspectives, unique knowledge, and deeper problem-solving capacity. However, diversity only leads to better performance when it’s managed properly. Without effective interactions, differences can amplify conflict, miscommunication, and breakdowns in cohesion. That’s the risk McKinsey and others have highlighted: diverse teams can either perform brilliantly or fail spectacularly depending on how they engage with one another. So the first step in collaborating with someone different is not to wish away those differences; it’s to welcome them, and reframe them as advantages. See differences not as barriers, but as opportunities to expand what’s possible. When someone’s style or perspective differs from yours, that’s not a threat; it’s new data. It’s an invitation to learn something new and explore another approach. To do this, you must be intentional about: One way to think about this is that it is about sitting on the same side of the table as the other person – instead of across the table. This can be either literal (in the case of in-person collaboration), or metaphorical when we are on the phone or virtual. When we try to collaborate while facing off against each other by defending our turf, comparing our solutions, or debating who’s right, we create an us-versus-them dynamic. That’s not collaboration, it’s negotiation. Instead: Sitting side by side helps shift your brain out of opposition and into shared exploration. It also signals a partnership orientation: “We’re in this together.” Pair this with curiosity-based questions like: These shifts – mindset first, then practical behaviour – are how collaboration becomes real. And yes, this takes time and self-management on your part. However, productive results and improved relationships will be your reward.  

Key Takeaways:

  • Collaboration ≠ Compromise. It’s Expansion. If you’re “meeting in the middle,” you’re probably shrinking the outcome. Real collaboration grows the pie by combining strengths, not trading them off. The goal isn’t to protect your idea, it’s to create a better one together.

  • Differences Are Data, Not Disruptions. When someone’s style or thinking throws you off, that’s not friction, it’s information. High-performing teams treat difference as an input to improve the solution, not a hurdle to overcome.

  • Psychological Safety Is the Multiplier. Diversity only pays off when people feel safe to speak, question, and challenge. If you’re defending or persuading, you’re shutting down performance. If you’re curious and inquiring, you’re unlocking it.

  • Get on the Same Side of the Table, Literally and Mentally. Opposite sides create opposition. Side-by-side creates partnership. Shift your posture, share the surface (whiteboard, doc, screen), and aim your energy at the problem, not the person. It’s a simple move that changes the whole dynamic.

Hybrid work can be a great model for people who are established in their careers, but it presents unique challenges for those just starting out. Early career employees don’t have the same opportunities to observe the workplace culture and leaders often struggle to provide frequent, specific feedback when not working in the same physical space.

So how will we lead this generation just entering the workforce, for whom “hybrid work” is not even a relevant term because it is the only style of work they know? Effective coaching needs to be part of the DNA of how we lead people now. In practical terms, it involves making the culture visible, creating opportunities to observe performance, and establishing systems to bridge the gap between in-person and remote work in a way that builds trusting relationships.

Make the culture visible

George Bernard Shaw famously noted “the single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has occurred.” Early in our careers, workplace culture and the nuances of professional life were communicated to us mostly by simply being in the office. We saw how people interacted outside of meetings and we overheard the words they used with their leaders. Through observation we formed images in our minds that we could then emulate.

It is easy to expect that employees entering the workforce today will similarly absorb these indirect messages. But with fewer opportunities to observe how things work, early career employees are left to make many assumptions about how to successfully navigate a new organization. Compound this with the tremendous ambiguity that remains around so many aspects of hybrid work, and you are likely to run into issues.

One of the greatest coaches we worked with, Jack Donohue, spoke of the need to build sharp clarity before we can offer effective feedback. People cannot do things that they cannot imagine. We need to break down vague concepts such as “flexible work,” “professionalism,” and “remote collaboration” into specific behaviours that people can see in their mind. Perhaps on your team “flexible work” really means that all team members are online and available between the hours of 10am and 3pm, their MS Teams status is always kept up to date, and the entire team is together in the office between 9am and 5pm on Wednesdays. Drilling down to this level of specificity is necessary to build the clarity that will enable early career employees to succeed.

Create opportunities to observe performance

When I was on my first project as a new management consultant, I was tasked with completing the analysis of a large data set. It was a steep learning curve, but I was eager to prove myself. I would continually tell my manager that everything was going well when I was actually working late nights scouring the internet to troubleshoot Excel errors.

My manager eventually called a time-out when she glanced over my shoulder and found me manually moving data around a spreadsheet. While she commended my eagerness to learn, she also pointed out the people sitting beside me who could teach me a much faster approach. “Might it be better to ask one of them for help and then you will know how to do it too?” she asked. A wild idea, I know.

In a hybrid world, we must intentionally create opportunities to observe performance.

It is never easy to teach early career employees everything they need to know in their first job. But it is even more complicated when we do not have opportunities to glance over their shoulder and directly observe their work. In a hybrid world, we must intentionally create these opportunities to observe performance. Working alongside new employees on early projects and joining them in as many meetings as possible is critical to see them in action and identify behaviours to reinforce or adjust.

A leader in one of our coaching workshops liked to regularly use screen sharing capabilities. This allowed her to see the steps that her team member was following and quickly identify process steps that she wanted to either reinforce or adjust. By sharing her own screen, she normalized the practice so that her team was comfortable with the approach. It also made her own work more visible and surfaced process steps that had become so automatic for her that she wouldn’t have otherwise thought to teach them.

When it is not possible to see the person in action, questions are a valuable tool to gain insight into their thinking. One leader we worked with likes to use questions such as “how would you approach this task” or “can you walk me through your thinking” so that he can offer adjustments or additional information before getting started on the task. During regular check-ins, questions such as “what are you most proud of this week” or “what would you like some feedback on” can provide jumping off points to understand how the person is working. The key is to continue asking questions and actively listening until you get below the surface-level responses and uncover specific behaviours to reinforce or adjust through feedback.

Build systems to bridge the gaps

Our Principal Trainer, Garry Watanabe, says issues with early career employees also often arise because they do not yet have mental maps for how things get done in the organization. In the office, getting quick answers is as easy as asking someone who does not look too busy. But when everyone is remote, it is impossible to see who might be warm for an interruption.

Garry suggests pairing early career employees with a peer-level buddy or more experienced mentor who they can go to for help. Providing a dedicated resource empowers them to find the answers they need and removes some of the barriers to seeking help. It also offers a safe way to ask for quick feedback and build confidence, all while freeing up your time together for more meaningful interactions.

Connecting early career employees with other team members in this way provides the added benefit of building relationships across the team, which is the ultimate system for bridging the gaps between in-person and remote work.

Start your people on a path to success

There is no doubt that leading early career employees in a hybrid world introduces new complexities and challenges. But by making the informal aspects of work more explicit, creating opportunities to observe performance, and building systems to bridge the gap, leading in this environment can be just as effective and fulfilling for both leaders and employees.

Imagination, belief and energy are precious resources that need to be carefully nurtured when high performance is the goal. At the same time, saddling someone with an unattainable target because you don’t want to dampen their enthusiasm risks a catastrophic failure that can destroy self-confidence and trust in the coach. An ambitious but naïve performer setting an unrealistic goal for themselves is commonplace: a direct report applies for a role where they are unlikely to be the successful candidate; an individual you coach sets a performance target for themselves based on their best year ever when headwinds are coming on strong; or your team is running a pilot project that’s very unlikely to get the green light to proceed. How can you communicate belief in the performer, while at the same time protecting them from experiencing what could be a devastating setback?

A moment of insight

One such moment for me happened over 20 years ago when I was working as a swimming coach in Thousand Oaks, California. I was coaching an adult swimming group – or as we called them, “Masters Swimmers” – to prepare them for the first competition of the summer. Masters swimming competitions are interesting events: the beer tent opening is as big a deal as the performances in the pool. But, make no mistake, the performances matter to the athletes.
“I immediately realized I had made a mistake”
I was doing some goal-setting work with an athlete who had recently taken up the sport and asked her what she thought would be a good goal time for her 100-meter freestyle. Her answer was completely unrealistic, so I suggested a much more attainable goal. The smile vanished from her face, her shoulders slumped, and I immediately realized I had made a mistake. In my well-intentioned effort to save this performer from disappointment, I had limited what she could imagine for herself, communicated a lack of belief in her capabilities and cut off a key source of energy.

Don’t fear negative emotion

In that moment, my gut reaction was to spare this person from setting herself up for failure. What I’ve learned is exceptional coaches know that negative emotion is an inherent part of the journey of growth and development. Progress isn’t linear. When people are testing their limits and doing things that they’ve never done before they will experience setbacks from time to time. And when those setbacks occur, they will experience negative emotions such as frustration or disappointment. But people can survive frustration and disappointment. On the other hand, if you encourage them to set safe goals that you know they will achieve, you limit the powerful “pull forward” that comes with imagining what might be possible.

Frame a range of outcomes

While negative emotion is a powerful tool, the coach still needs to prevent a devastating failure. Where I suggested a new goal in place of the one my swimmer had set, I could have included it in a range of possible outcomes that framed a realistic performance as a level of success. In practice, this looks like a series of goals that includes the most ideal outcome and also a few other outcomes that are more realistic and attainable. Framing targets in this manner helps performers to dream about what might be possible while at the same time preparing them for when the ideal outcome does not occur. This approach is also a useful way to help a perfectionist objectively assess their performances.
“Perfectionists often evaluate any imperfect performance as failure”
Perfectionists often evaluate any imperfect performance as failure. By working with the performer to set a range of target outcomes in advance, the coach is then in a position to help them evaluate their performance against objective criteria. This often results in the perfectionist being forced to admit that their “failure” was in fact a “good performance” or at worst “one they can live with.”

Blend empathy and accountability

If the performer doesn’t achieve their ideal outcome, help them harness the negative emotion and use it to fuel growth rather than rushing in to try to make them feel better. Do this by first allowing them to sit with the emotion of the moment. Be there to help them process the experience by providing a listening ear. And then, when the performer seems ready, ask them for their thoughts on how to move forward. And then work with them to create a plan to increase the likelihood of an improved result next time.

Re-writing history

If I could go back in time and revisit that moment on the pool deck when that athlete suggested an unrealistic goal, what would I do? I would have accepted that negative emotion is a natural part of the growth process. And rather than trying to shield them from the possibility of failure, I would have allowed them to dream about what might be possible. I would have helped them set a range of goals. And if they failed to achieve their ideal outcome, I would have helped them process the disappointment and then channel that energy into the process of getting better. Of course it was that moment of less than stellar coaching, and the resulting disappointment I felt with myself, that ultimately helped me find a better way forward.