Leading in Practice

Tag: reflections

  • When Did We Stop Just Asking?

    When Did We Stop Just Asking?

    There’s something I’ve noticed repeatedly over more than two decades of working in teams, leadership, mentoring and coaching.

    And I find it quite fascinating, if not sometimes quite frustrating…

    How many problems in workplaces could be resolved through some really basic communication?

    I’m not talking about the big, difficult conversations. The ones where there’s conflict, disagreement or something uncomfortable that needs to be addressed.

    I’ve written before about how we often avoid those conversations because we’re worried about how somebody might respond, or because we’ve already created a story in our heads about what the other person is thinking.

    But I’m talking about something way more basic than that.

    The everyday conversations that, for some reason, we just don’t have.

    Things like:

    I don’t really know what they do.

    I’m not sure how they’d feel about that.

    I don’t know whether that’s something they’d want to be involved in.

    I’m not sure what they’re expecting from me.

    I don’t know why they’ve done it that way.

    And I often find myself thinking…

    When did we stop just asking people things?

    The conversations that never happen

    I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard somebody say something along those lines.

    And often, my response is pretty simple:

    How could you find that out?

    There’s usually a bit of a pause.

    And then:

    Well, I suppose I could ask them.

    Exactly!

    Not in like a ‘gotcha’ kind of way, but it’s such a simple answer that I sometimes wonder why we need to have the conversation in the first place.

    But we do.

    And I think that’s worth exploring.

    Because somewhere along the way, we’ve developed this strange habit of trying to work people out without actually talking to them.

    We make assumptions about what they want.

    We interpret their behaviour.

    We speculate about their motivations.

    We ask other people what they think.

    We spend time discussing something that could probably be resolved with one straightforward question to the person concerned.

    And sometimes those unanswered questions sit there for weeks or months.

    They become frustrations.

    Misunderstandings.

    Resentment.

    Things that eventually need a much bigger conversation than they ever should have required.

    It’s not always about conflict

    I think this is an important distinction.

    When we talk about communication problems in organisations, we often focus on difficult conversations.

    And rightly so. Being able to address disagreement, challenge behaviour and give honest feedback is an important part of working well together.

    But not every conversation we’re avoiding is difficult.

    Sometimes it’s just asking someone what they think.

    Or what they need.

    Or what they’re working on.

    Or whether they’d like to be involved in something.

    There doesn’t need to be a disagreement.

    There doesn’t need to be a problem.

    There doesn’t even need to be anything particularly sensitive about it.

    And yet we still hesitate.

    I’ve seen this happen across all levels of organisations.

    Between colleagues.

    Between teams.

    Between managers and staff.

    Between senior leaders.

    It’s not always about hierarchy or power, although of course those things can make a difference.

    Sometimes we just seem to have developed a habit of guessing rather than asking.

    And I wonder how much time and energy that costs us.

    What are we actually worried about?

    I think there are probably lots of reasons why we do this.

    Maybe we don’t want to look like we don’t know something.

    Maybe we think we should already know the answer.

    Maybe we’re worried about bothering somebody.

    Maybe we assume the other person is too busy.

    Maybe we don’t want to appear intrusive.

    Or maybe we’ve just got used to working in environments where people don’t ask each other very many questions.

    I also wonder whether we’ve started to associate asking questions with not being competent.

    As though we’re supposed to have worked everything out for ourselves.

    But I think there’s a real difference between being capable of independent thinking and making unnecessary assumptions about other people.

    You can be perfectly capable of doing your job and still need to ask somebody a question.

    In fact, I’d argue that knowing when to ask is part of doing your job well.

    Curiosity is such an underrated skill

    The more I work with people, the more I believe that curiosity is one of the most valuable things we can bring to our working relationships.

    And I don’t mean curiosity in some grand, intellectual sense.

    I mean being genuinely interested in understanding the people around us.

    What do they think?

    What matters to them?

    How do they see the situation?

    What are they trying to achieve?

    What would be helpful?

    What are we missing?

    We don’t have to agree with the answers.

    We don’t have to act on every suggestion.

    And asking somebody what they think doesn’t mean handing over responsibility for a decision.

    But surely it’s better to know than to spend our time guessing?

    Sometimes I think we make communication far more complicated than it needs to be.

    We look for elaborate ways to improve collaboration, strengthen relationships and address misunderstandings.

    And those things can absolutely be useful.

    But I wonder how often we overlook the most basic starting point.

    Have we actually spoken to each other?

    The culture we create around communication

    I also think this says something important about organisational culture.

    Because good communication isn’t just about having the right systems.

    You can have regular team meetings, one-to-ones, staff surveys, newsletters, communication strategies and every digital platform imaginable.

    But none of those things automatically creates a culture where people feel comfortable asking straightforward questions.

    And sometimes having so many ways to communicate makes things more complicated rather than less.

    For me, good communication is about something much more fundamental.

    It’s about creating an environment where people feel able to be honest.

    Where asking for clarification isn’t seen as a weakness.

    Where people don’t feel embarrassed to say they don’t understand something.

    Where colleagues can approach each other directly rather than going through three other people first.

    Where curiosity is encouraged rather than interpreted as criticism.

    And where people don’t have to spend their working lives trying to read between the lines.

    As leaders, I think we have a particular responsibility to model that.

    Are we clear about what we’re asking people to do?

    Do we invite questions?

    Do we respond well when somebody challenges our thinking or asks us to explain something?

    Do we make assumptions about what our colleagues want, or do we actually ask them?

    Because if we want open communication, we need to demonstrate what that looks like.

    Not just encourage other people to do it.

    What coaching has highlighted for me about asking

    This is one of the things I find interesting about coaching.

    So often, somebody comes into a coaching conversation with something they’ve been thinking about for quite a while.

    They might be frustrated with a colleague.

    Unsure about somebody’s expectations.

    Trying to work out how another person might respond to something.

    Or spending a lot of time thinking about a situation where they don’t have all the information.

    And rather than trying to solve it for them, I’ll ask a question.

    What do you actually know about what they’re thinking?

    What are you assuming?

    How might you find out?

    And sometimes the answer is incredibly simple.

    I could just ask them.

    I love those moments.

    Not because I’ve done anything particularly clever or as I said before, tried to catch them out.

    But because it’s a reminder of how useful it can be to have the space to stop and think.

    The answer was often there all along.

    They didn’t need somebody to tell them what to do.

    They needed an opportunity to look at the situation differently.

    And I think that’s one of the reasons coaching has had such an influence on how I approach conversations more generally.

    It’s made me much more conscious of the value of asking rather than assuming.

    Of listening rather than immediately responding.

    Of being curious rather than trying to work everything out myself.

    I think those skills have enormous value well beyond formal coaching conversations.

    Imagine how different some of our workplaces might feel if we brought more of that approach into our everyday interactions.

    How much are we making up?

    I’ve written before about the stories we tell ourselves.

    The assumptions we make about what other people are thinking, what they might say or how they might respond.

    And I think there’s a connection here.

    Because when we don’t ask, we leave gaps.

    And our brains are really good at filling those gaps with stories.

    Sometimes those stories are accurate.

    Often they’re not.

    And the longer we leave them unchallenged, the more convincing they can become.

    What starts as I’m not sure what they think about this can gradually become I don’t think they’d be supportive.

    And before we know it, we’re making decisions based on something we’ve never actually checked.

    That’s quite a significant problem.

    Particularly when those decisions affect other people.

    Try asking

    There’s a simple challenge we could all set ourselves this week. I’ll do it too because I’m a big fan of reflective practice.

    Notice the moments when you find yourself saying:

    I don’t know what they think.

    I’m not sure what they want.

    I wonder why they’ve done that.

    I don’t know whether they’d agree.

    And before you spend too much time trying to work it out, ask yourself:

    Could I just ask them?

    And if the answer is yes, notice what happens next.

    Do you ask?

    Or do you find a reason not to?

    If you hesitate, what is it that’s stopping you?

    Are you worried about the answer?

    Are you concerned about how you’ll be perceived?

    Do you feel you should already know?

    Or has it simply not occurred to you that asking was an option?

    I think there’s something really valuable in becoming more aware of those moments.

    Communication doesn’t always need to be complicated.

    Sometimes improving a working relationship, resolving a misunderstanding or making a better decision starts with something as simple as asking a question.

    And then, of course, being willing to listen to the answer.

    If this resonated with you…

    If you find yourself spending a lot of time second-guessing other people, navigating misunderstandings or wondering how to communicate more confidently and effectively, coaching can provide a useful space to explore what’s getting in the way.

    It can also help you develop the curiosity, listening skills and confidence to approach conversations differently, both as a leader and in your wider working relationships.

    If you’d like to explore that, you’re very welcome to join me for a complimentary chat.

  • What Are You Doing With Your Ambition?

    What Are You Doing With Your Ambition?

    I’ve just finished reading Moral Ambition: How to Find Your Purpose by Rutger Bregman.

    I read a lot of books about leadership and coaching and how people work, but every so often I read something that connects particularly strongly with the work I do.

    This was one of those books.

    Moral Ambition asks us to think differently about ambition. Not simply in terms of career progression, status, money or achievement, but what we actually do with the talents, opportunities and influence we have.

    I inevitably read it through the lens of the work I’ve been involved in for many years around drugs, harm reduction and drug-related deaths.

    And it left me thinking about purpose.

    About action.

    About what it takes to change things.

    But also about something I think is particularly important when you work in a field where the scale of suffering can feel overwhelming:

    How do you maintain the ambition to change things without carrying the weight of the whole problem on your shoulders?

    Awareness isn’t enough

    One of the themes running through the book is the difference between being aware of injustice and actually doing something about it.

    Bregman argues that awareness is a starting point, not an end goal.

    That really resonated with me.

    We live in a world where so much of what we see of other people’s work is what they communicate publicly.

    The post.

    The statement.

    The interview.

    The campaign.

    Raising awareness matters. Speaking publicly about injustice matters.

    But ultimately, the question has to become:

    What are we actually doing about it?

    A huge amount of change happens where nobody is watching.

    It’s the meeting.

    The difficult conversation.

    The relationship you’ve spent years developing.

    The paper somebody has quietly worked on.

    The challenge made behind closed doors.

    The conversation with somebody who has the power to change something.

    The persistence to raise the same issue for the tenth, twentieth or hundredth time.

    Real-world deeds matter more than good intentions.

    That’s quite a challenging thing to sit with.

    Because it’s very easy to believe something should change.

    It’s much harder to decide what you’re prepared to do to help change it.

    Can I live with myself if I do nothing?

    This was a question in the book.

    Can I live with myself if I do nothing?

    I’ve thought about that quite a lot.

    There are things in my own field where I simply don’t think I could.

    When people are dying preventable deaths, when policies are contributing to harm, when people are being treated in ways that I fundamentally believe are wrong, I don’t think I could comfortably say:

    Somebody should really do something about that.

    Purpose changes your relationship with responsibility.

    You start asking:

    What can I do?

    That doesn’t mean believing you can fix everything yourself.

    You can’t.

    But it does mean refusing to see your contribution as an insignificant drop in an enormous ocean.

    Change has always required people who believed their actions mattered.

    Often stubborn people.

    Relentless people.

    People prepared to be unpopular.

    People who were willing to keep going long after others told them what they wanted was unrealistic.

    Be prepared to look a bit weird

    I loved another idea in the book: if you want to make a difference, you can’t be too afraid of looking weird.

    I think there’s something important in that.

    Most significant change probably sounded unrealistic at some point.

    Ideas that are completely mainstream today were once considered radical.

    People who challenged accepted wisdom were often dismissed as difficult, unrealistic or extreme.

    And that made me think about drug policy.

    There are things we currently accept that I genuinely believe future generations will look back on and struggle to understand.

    I think criminalising people for possessing drugs for their own use will be one of them.

    I think future generations will ask why, when we knew that an unregulated drug market was killing people, we continued with policies that left that market entirely in the hands of organised crime.

    And they’ll probably wonder why change took us so long.

    That’s uncomfortable.

    But I think part of moral ambition is being willing to ask:

    What are we doing today that people in the future might consider barbaric?

    And then having the courage to do something about it.

    The people who put their heads above the parapet

    I was reading the book at a particularly interesting time because I’ve also been following what’s happened in Canada with the Drug User Liberation Front (DULF).

    Eris Nyx and Jeremy Kalicum established a compassion club that provided tested drugs at cost in response to people dying from the toxic unregulated drug supply.

    They put their own liberty at risk.

    And just last week, their trafficking convictions were stayed after they successfully challenged part of Canada’s drug legislation.

    The judge told them that people like them make a difference.

    I found myself thinking about them while reading this book.

    Because we often celebrate changemakers retrospectively.

    Once the change has happened.

    Once society has caught up.

    Once their position doesn’t seem quite so radical anymore.

    It’s much harder to be the person taking the risk before everyone agrees with you.

    That’s moral ambition in practice for me.

    Not looking good.

    Doing good.

    Even when doing it comes at a personal cost.

    Thousands of times a person died

    There was another idea in the book that I’ve thought about a lot.

    When we talk about suffering on a huge scale, something happens to our ability to comprehend it.

    People become numbers and numbers become statistics.

    I’ve witnessed this repeatedly in my own work.

    We talk of over a thousand drug-related deaths in Scotland every year.

    Tens of thousands over time.

    And numbers that large can become strangely abstract.

    Bregman flips this around.

    Tens of thousands of times, one person died.

    Thousands of individual lives.

    Thousands of families.

    Thousands of mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, partners, children, friends and communities experiencing loss.

    I think we need to remind ourselves of that.

    Because there is a strange psychological tension in working around suffering.

    You need to remain connected enough to care.

    But you also need to protect yourself enough to continue.

    We need more moonshots

    The book uses the Apollo programme as an example of what becomes possible when we decide to pursue something that initially seems impossible.

    Kennedy’s ambition to put a person on the moon required technology that didn’t even exist when the goal was set.

    And yet enormous resources, talent and energy were organised around achieving it.

    It made me wonder:

    What are our moonshots now?

    Why are we sometimes so cautious in the scale of what we’re prepared to imagine?

    Ending poverty.

    Ending homelessness.

    Ending preventable drug-related deaths.

    Creating a regulated drug market that doesn’t leave people gambling with their lives every time they use a substance.

    We can immediately produce a list of reasons these things are difficult.

    And they are.

    But perhaps we’ve developed what Bregman describes as a lack of imagination.

    Leadership requires us to stop beginning with why this won’t work and start asking:

    What would it take to make it possible?

    Relentless prioritising

    Of course, we can’t pursue everything.

    I really liked the phrase ‘relentless prioritising‘ in this book.

    Purpose without prioritisation can very quickly become overwhelm.

    There are endless worthwhile causes.

    Endless things that need to change.

    Endless problems deserving attention.

    You cannot give yourself equally to all of them.

    So perhaps finding purpose isn’t simply about asking:

    What am I passionate about?

    A more useful question might be:

    Where can I contribute most?

    What skills do I have?

    What influence do I have?

    Where are my relationships?

    What opportunities are available to me?

    Where can my particular combination of experience, knowledge and position actually make a difference?

    Our talents aren’t the end goal.

    They’re tools.

    The question is what we choose to do with them.

    The danger of never doing enough

    But there was another part of the book that I needed to hear too.

    Because moral ambition has a potential downside.

    When you care deeply about an issue where people are suffering, there is always more you could do.

    And if the benchmark becomes Have I done everything I possibly could?, you will never reach it.

    There’s always more.

    That’s where purpose can start to become pressure.

    You feel guilty switching off.

    You question whether you should be spending money on something enjoyable.

    You wonder whether you should be working instead of spending time with loved ones.

    You carry the injustice around with you.

    And eventually, if you put the weight of the whole world on your shoulders, you’ll buckle under it.

    That doesn’t help anyone.

    This is something I have to remind myself of.

    Looking after yourself isn’t an abandonment of your purpose.

    It’s part of sustaining it.

    If the change we’re trying to create could take years or decades, then we need to be capable of staying in the work.

    We need friendships.

    Holidays.

    Laughter.

    Hobbies.

    Family.

    Rest.

    Things that have absolutely nothing to do with the problem we’re trying to solve.

    Purpose should enrich a life.

    It shouldn’t consume it.

    Ambition with compassion

    The School for Moral Ambition has seven founding principles: action, impact, radical compassion, open mindedness, kindness, enthusiasm and perseverance.

    I like the combination.

    Because action without compassion could become ruthless.

    Ambition without kindness could become ego.

    Perseverance without rest could become burnout.

    And conviction without open mindedness could very easily become certainty that we’re always right.

    Maybe that’s the balance.

    Care deeply.

    Be ambitious about what could change.

    Take action rather than just talking about it.

    Be prepared to challenge things that everyone else accepts.

    Keep going when progress feels painfully slow.

    But remain curious.

    Be kind.

    Let other people contribute.

    Change your mind when the evidence tells you to.

    And live a life outside the cause too.

    What will you do with what you have?

    I’m not sure finding your purpose always means dramatically changing career or dedicating your entire life to one enormous cause.

    Maybe it’s a simpler question.

    What are you going to do with what you have?

    Your skills.

    Your experience.

    Your influence.

    Your relationships.

    Your time.

    Your voice.

    Your ambition.

    You don’t have to change the world by yourself.

    In fact, you can’t.

    But that doesn’t mean your contribution doesn’t matter.

    Social change rarely happens overnight.

    Sometimes you spend years pushing something and wondering whether you’re making any difference at all.

    Then suddenly something that once sounded impossible becomes imaginable.

    Then acceptable.

    Then achievable.

    And eventually people look back and wonder why it ever took us so long.

    Maybe that’s enough reason to keep going.

    If this resonated with you…

    If you’re thinking about your own sense of purpose, where you can contribute most, or how to pursue work that matters to you without allowing it to consume you, coaching can provide the space to explore that.

    Sometimes the question isn’t What do I want to achieve?

    It’s What do I want to use my ambition for?

    If you’d like some space to think about that, you’re very welcome to join me for a complimentary chat about it.

  • Staying on Message

    Staying on Message

    Last week was a difficult week.

    The National Records of Scotland published the appalling number of people who died from drug-related causes in 2025, and with that rightly came a lot of media interviews.

    Radio. Journalists. Live interviews. Conversations about why Scotland continues to experience such significant levels of drug-related harm and, importantly, what needs to change.

    The following day I was speaking to another Chief Executive who told me that this is one part of leadership they absolutely hate.

    They’ll do it. But they find it massively uncomfortable, particularly when they’re asked a question they weren’t expecting or haven’t prepared for.

    And I completely understand that.

    I still get nervous before interviews.

    Put a camera in front of me and those nerves definitely increase a bit more.

    But the conversation got me thinking about what I’ve learned from doing media interviews over the years and some of the things I now do to make them feel more manageable.

    I’ve never had formal media training, and no doubt there are plenty of things I could still improve on.

    But I have developed a way of preparing that works for me.

    Know what you want to say

    Before a significant media day, I spend quite a lot of time thinking about the things I really want people to hear.

    Last week, I had five key areas.

    Under each one, I had a handful of bullet points covering the things I thought were particularly important.

    That’s it.

    I didn’t have pages of prepared answers sitting in front of me.

    I didn’t try to predict every question.

    And I definitely didn’t have a script.

    I probably did write much more of it out while I was preparing. That’s part of how I process my thoughts and work out what I actually want to say. I also have really good support from our comms lead in thinking through the issues that are likely to come up.

    But by the time I’m actually doing the interview, I’ve stripped most of that away.

    Five areas.

    A few prompts.

    Because I’ve learned that knowing what you want to say is much more useful than trying to memorise exactly how you want to say it.

    You can’t predict every question

    I think this is one of the things that can make media interviews intimidating.

    What if they ask me something I haven’t prepared for?

    The reality is, they probably will.

    You can’t prepare for every possible question. And if you try, I think you can actually make the interview harder for yourself.

    What you can do is know your subject and know the key messages you want to communicate.

    Then, regardless of where the interviewer starts, you have somewhere to come back to.

    That doesn’t mean ignoring their question and repeating a pre-prepared line.

    People notice when you do that.

    I try to answer the question I’ve actually been asked, but then think about which of my key areas it connects to.

    There is almost always a bridge.

    And having those few areas in my head gives me something to anchor myself to if a question takes me somewhere I wasn’t expecting.

    Don’t over-prepare

    This is something I’ve learned through getting it wrong.

    I’ve definitely gone into interviews in the past with particular lines in my head that I was determined to say.

    And I’ve found that incredibly distracting.

    Instead of really listening to the interviewer, part of my brain is thinking:

    What was that sentence I wanted to use?

    How do I get that line in?

    I’ve not mentioned this yet.

    And suddenly you’re not really in the conversation anymore.

    You’re trying to perform the interview you prepared for rather than participate in the one that’s actually happening.

    For me, overpreparing can make me sound less natural too.

    I know my subject.

    I know what I believe.

    I know the evidence and the issues I want to talk about.

    So my preparation now is much more about giving myself a structure that I can move around within, rather than giving myself a script I have to follow.

    That allows me to be much more present.

    You probably won’t get to say everything

    This is one I still have to remind myself about.

    When you care deeply about a subject, there’s always more you want to say.

    And when you’re talking about something as complex as drug-related deaths, there are countless things that matter.

    You want to talk about inequality.

    Treatment.

    Harm reduction.

    The drug supply.

    Housing.

    Poverty.

    Policy.

    Drug law reform.

    Stigma.

    Funding.

    The experiences of people and families.

    And you’ve got a few minutes.

    You are not going to say everything.

    Trying to squeeze everything in can actually mean that none of it lands particularly well.

    I know this is something I still need to work on myself.

    When I know an interviewer is going to cut me off shortly, I can sometimes feel myself speeding up because there is so much more I want to say.

    Slow down.

    Make the point.

    Let it land.

    And accept that you might only get two or three of the things you wanted to say into that particular interview.

    There will be another conversation.

    Listen to the person interviewing you

    Most of the interviews I did last week were thoughtful and sensitive.

    The interviewers asked questions that allowed me to explain the issues and created space for a useful discussion.

    And I think that’s important to acknowledge.

    An interview should be a conversation.

    Listen to the question. Be in the moment.

    Listen for the cues that the interviewer wants to come back in.

    Particularly when live, I’ve learned to notice when it’s probably time for me to stop talking and let the interviewer move things on.

    That sounds incredibly obvious.

    It’s much less obvious when your adrenaline is going and your brain is simultaneously thinking about another six things you could say.

    And then there are the difficult ones

    I had one interview last week that I found really uncomfortable.

    Some of the questions felt quite challenging. I felt that some of what I was saying about poverty and inequality was being misunderstood or dismissed, and I could feel myself becoming increasingly frustrated.

    I felt triggered.

    And when you’re talking about something that matters deeply to you, that can be difficult to manage in the moment.

    You want to correct something.

    You want to make sure people understand.

    You don’t want an important issue reduced to something you don’t believe accurately represents it.

    And you’re doing all of that live.

    I came away from that particular interview thinking:

    That didn’t go very well.

    That’s part of this too.

    Not every interview will feel good.

    Not every interviewer will approach an issue in the way you would.

    You might be sharing the discussion with somebody whose perspective is completely different from yours.

    And particularly in areas that are polarised, that’s something you need to be prepared for.

    What I’m continuing to work on is recognising when I’m having that reaction and finding a way to stay grounded in the moment.

    Being challenged doesn’t mean I have to abandon the things I wanted to communicate.

    If anything, that’s probably when knowing those key messages matters most.

    Know your stuff

    Ultimately, I think this is what gives me the most confidence.

    Know your subject.

    You don’t need to know absolutely everything.

    You don’t need an immediate answer to every possible question.

    But if you’re being interviewed because you have expertise in something, trust that expertise.

    Don’t allow an unexpected question to make you forget everything you know.

    And don’t let somebody else’s framing of an issue automatically become yours.

    You can answer the question respectfully and still challenge the premise behind it.

    You can say:

    I think there’s another important part of this that we need to consider…

    Or:

    I would look at that slightly differently…

    Or:

    I think it’s important that we don’t lose sight of…

    That’s not avoiding the question.

    It’s making sure the conversation doesn’t take you somewhere that you don’t think is helpful or accurate.

    Challenging without attacking

    This matters particularly when it comes to stigma.

    Sometimes you’ll be asked a question that contains language or an assumption that you think is stigmatising.

    That doesn’t necessarily mean the person asking it intended it that way.

    And laying into the interviewer probably isn’t going to help anyone understand the issue differently.

    You can challenge something without attacking the person who said it.

    You can gently reframe the language.

    You can explain why you would describe something differently.

    You can introduce another perspective.

    For me, that’s much more likely to change the conversation.

    And ultimately, that’s what I’m there to do.

    I’m not there to win an argument with the interviewer.

    I’m there to communicate something to the people listening or watching.

    That’s an important distinction.

    Preparation should give you freedom

    Preparation shouldn’t make you more rigid.

    It should give you more freedom.

    If I’ve done the work beforehand, I don’t have to spend the interview desperately trying to remember what I wanted to say.

    I know the territory.

    I know the points that matter.

    I can listen properly.

    I can respond to what’s actually being asked.

    I can move between the different areas depending on where the conversation goes.

    And hopefully I can sound like myself rather than someone reading out a statement.

    That’s the balance I’m always trying to find.

    Prepare enough that you feel grounded. Not so much that you stop being present.

    And if this is something you find difficult…

    Media interviews and public speaking are part of leadership for many people, but that doesn’t mean they come naturally.

    You might know your subject inside out and still find the thought of being interviewed terrifying.

    You might struggle when you’re challenged.

    You might find yourself speaking too quickly, losing your train of thought or coming away afterwards thinking of all the things you wish you’d said.

    Those are things you can work on.

    And coaching can be a really useful space to do that.

    Not to give you a script or turn you into a polished media personality.

    But to understand what happens for you in those situations, build your confidence, challenge some of the thinking that might be getting in your way and develop strategies that work for you.

    I’m still learning too.

    I still get nervous.

    I still sometimes come away from an interview wishing I’d handled something differently.

    But I’ve become much more comfortable trusting that I know my subject, knowing the things I want to communicate and then allowing myself to have the conversation that’s actually happening.

    And, for me, that’s made all the difference.

    Get in touch if you’d like to explore how we could work together on this.

  • The Boundaries We Model

    The Boundaries We Model

    Boundaries come up a lot in coaching.

    But actually, they come up almost everywhere.

    I hear it when I’m talking to friends about their workplaces. I hear it from people working across services. I hear it in conversations with leaders and managers.

    People working well beyond their contracted hours.

    People checking emails while they’re on holiday.

    People who feel like they’re permanently on call.

    People dropping everything because someone else has decided that something is urgent.

    People trying to concentrate on a piece of work while simultaneously responding to emails, Teams messages, WhatsApps and phone calls.

    And people spending far too much energy trying to work out what someone actually wants from them because expectations haven’t been clearly communicated in the first place.

    We talk a lot about burnout and wellbeing at work.

    I think we need to talk much more about boundaries.

    Boundaries are not about caring less

    I think sometimes we associate having good boundaries with being less committed.

    If I don’t reply to that email tonight, will people think I don’t care?

    If I don’t answer that message while I’m on annual leave, will I look unhelpful?

    If someone asks me to do something urgently, can I really say that I don’t have capacity?

    If my manager works until 10pm, should I be doing that too?

    And gradually, the exceptional becomes normal.

    You answer one email while you’re on holiday.

    You stay late because something genuinely urgent has happened.

    You respond to a message at the weekend.

    None of those things in isolation necessarily causes a problem.

    The problem comes when they become the expectation rather than the exception.

    Because once you’ve demonstrated that you’re always available, it can become incredibly difficult to reclaim that space.

    We have never been more contactable

    I think technology has made some of this harder.

    There are now so many ways for someone to get our attention.

    Email.

    Teams.

    WhatsApp.

    Phone calls.

    Video calls.

    Social media.

    Notifications appearing on our phones while we’re doing something completely unrelated to work.

    Being contactable is not the same thing as being available.

    And being available is not the same thing as being effective.

    There are times when the best thing I can do for my work is make myself unavailable.

    If I need to concentrate on something that requires proper thought, I’ll block time in my diary. I’ll let people know that I’m going to be unavailable and I’ll get my head down and do it.

    That isn’t me being inaccessible.

    It’s me recognising what I need in order to do the work well.

    We shouldn’t have to apologise for that.

    Not everything is urgent

    This is another one that comes up frequently.

    Someone else’s urgency can very quickly become ours.

    Sometimes, of course, things genuinely are urgent. Leadership involves responding to unexpected situations and there will always be occasions when plans have to change.

    But not everything can be urgent.

    And if everything is treated as urgent, we lose the ability to distinguish what actually matters most.

    I’ve seen people completely rearrange their day because an email arrives with an urgent request.

    I’ve seen people abandon the piece of work they had deliberately set time aside to complete because someone else suddenly needs something.

    Sometimes that’s necessary.

    Sometimes it’s simply a pattern we’ve fallen into.

    One of the questions I’ve learned to ask myself is:

    Does this actually need to happen now?

    Not: Would somebody like it now?

    Not: Could I technically do it now?

    But: Does it genuinely need to happen now?

    Those are very different questions.

    This can’t all sit with the individual

    This is where I think conversations about boundaries sometimes become too simplistic.

    We tell people:

    You need to switch off.

    You need to say no.

    You need to manage your workload.

    You need better boundaries.

    And sometimes that’s absolutely true.

    There are boundaries that only we can set for ourselves.

    But it’s very difficult to tell someone to switch off when their manager emails them throughout their annual leave.

    It’s difficult to tell someone not to work excessive hours when the workload they’ve been given cannot reasonably be completed within their contracted time.

    It’s difficult to tell someone they don’t need to respond immediately when their experience tells them that their manager expects an immediate response.

    And it’s difficult to ask people to manage their own priorities when nobody has been clear with them about what those priorities actually are.

    We can’t make workplace wellbeing entirely the responsibility of the individual while ignoring the environment they’re working in.

    What are you modelling?

    For me, this is where leadership really matters.

    Because people pay attention to what we do.

    Far more than we sometimes realise.

    You can tell your team that you don’t expect them to respond to emails outside working hours.

    But if you’re emailing them every night at 10pm, what message are you actually sending?

    You can encourage people to take their annual leave.

    But if you spend your own holiday checking in, joining meetings and responding to messages, what are you modelling?

    You can tell people that their wellbeing matters.

    But if the people who stay latest, answer fastest and make themselves permanently available are the people who receive the most praise, what behaviour are you really rewarding?

    There can be a huge gap between “do what I say” and “do what I do.”

    And culture is usually shaped much more by the second one.

    Clarity is a boundary too

    Clear communication is part of creating healthy boundaries.

    People shouldn’t have to spend their time reading between the lines.

    They shouldn’t have to guess whether something is urgent.

    They shouldn’t have to work out what their manager meant by a vague instruction.

    And they shouldn’t have to constantly second-guess whether they’re meeting an expectation that nobody has actually articulated.

    Clarity reduces unnecessary anxiety.

    If something has a deadline, say what it is.

    If something is genuinely urgent, explain why.

    If there is flexibility, say that too.

    If you don’t expect someone to respond outside their working hours, make that clear – and then behave consistently with it.

    Good leadership shouldn’t require people to become experts in interpreting us.

    Sometimes setting a boundary takes courage

    Of course, even in a healthy workplace, setting boundaries isn’t always comfortable.

    Saying:

    I don’t have capacity to take that on right now.

    I’m on leave next week, so I won’t be checking my emails.

    I’ve blocked this afternoon to concentrate on this piece of work.

    I can do that, but something else will need to move.

    Can you help me understand which of these priorities should come first?

    Those conversations can feel uncomfortable, particularly if you’re working in a culture where boundaries aren’t being demonstrated by the people above you.

    And that’s where I think coaching can be particularly useful.

    Sometimes the challenge isn’t knowing what boundary you need.

    You already know.

    The challenge is giving yourself permission to set it, working through what you’re worried might happen if you do, and finding a way to communicate it clearly and confidently.

    Creating the conditions

    As leaders, I think our responsibility goes further than encouraging people to look after themselves.

    We need to create the conditions that make it possible.

    That means being realistic about workloads.

    Being clear about priorities.

    Respecting people’s time away from work.

    Not creating unnecessary urgency.

    Allowing people uninterrupted time to think and concentrate.

    Being consistent about what we expect.

    And perhaps most importantly, demonstrating those things ourselves.

    I’m certainly not perfect at this.

    There will be times when I work longer because something needs done. There will be times when something unexpected requires my attention. That’s part of working life and particularly part of leadership.

    But the question is whether the exception is quietly becoming the norm.

    There’s a big difference between occasionally going above and beyond and working in a way that is fundamentally unsustainable.

    Look at what people have learned from you

    If you’re a leader or line manager, I think there’s a useful question to reflect on:

    If everyone in my team copied the way I work, would I be happy with the culture we’d create?

    Would everyone work excessive hours?

    Would everyone check their emails on holiday?

    Would everyone respond immediately to every notification?

    Would people feel able to say they don’t have capacity?

    Would they know when something genuinely was urgent?

    Would they protect time to think?

    Would they actually switch off?

    We can have all the wellbeing policies, initiatives and messages we like.

    But people will learn what is really expected of them by watching what happens around them.

    And particularly by watching us.

    Boundaries aren’t just an individual responsibility.

    They’re something we create together.

    And if we’re serious about wanting people to do good work without burning themselves out in the process, we need workplace cultures that make healthy boundaries possible.

    If this resonated with you…

    If you’re finding yourself constantly available, struggling to protect your time or knowing that you need stronger boundaries but finding it difficult to hold them, coaching can give you the space to work through what’s getting in the way.

    And if you’re a leader thinking about the culture you’re creating for others, it can also provide space to reflect on what you’re modelling and whether it’s creating the conditions you actually want for your team.

    If you’d like some space to think about that, you’re very welcome to join me for a complimentary chat about it.

  • Why Gathering Matters

    Why Gathering Matters

    It’s been almost 3 weeks now since our annual conference, and I’ve found myself thinking about it quite a lot.

    Not so much about the event itself, or whether every session went exactly as planned, but about some of the feedback we’ve received since.

    People have talked about the speakers, the discussions, the ideas and the things they’ve learned. But what I’ve also picked up on is how many people have talked about just being together.

    It reminded me of something I’ve talked about before, and a book I read called The Art of Gathering.

    Why do we gather?

    And what is it that people actually get from being in a room together?

    More than an event

    When you work in a space like ours, the work can be incredibly rewarding, but it can also be pretty tough going.

    We’re dealing with issues that are deeply human. There is grief, frustration, anger, hope and sometimes a real sense of helplessness.

    As well as people most affected by this, people working across the drugs field see the impact of drug-related harms in their communities every day. They see people struggling. They see people dying. They see the gaps in services, the consequences of poverty and inequality, and the things that aren’t working as they should.

    And it can be exhausting.

    Before our conference this year, a number of people told us they were feeling burned out. They were struggling with the sheer amount of harm they were seeing around them and the demands of trying to respond to it.

    So when people then tell us that they left the conference feeling inspired, energised, with new ideas and new connections, I think that’s really significant.

    That has to be one of the core reasons we gather.

    Not just to learn, to hear from experts, or to exchange information.

    But to remind ourselves that we’re not doing this alone.

    The power of being together

    There is absolutely a place for conferences where people move between different workshops and sessions depending on their particular interests.

    They’re so useful. They allow you to cover more topics and give people the opportunity to choose what is most relevant to them.

    But over the last few years, I’ve increasingly recognised the value of doing something slightly different.

    Our main conference takes place in one room across two full days.

    People hear many of the same things. They listen to the same speakers. They experience the same moments. They hear the same questions and conversations.

    And I think there is something really powerful about that.

    You start to feel part of a collective.

    You’re not just attending a conference… you’re part of something much bigger.

    There’s a sense that we’re all in this together.

    And I think that’s particularly important when you work in an environment that can sometimes feel incredibly divisive.

    We don’t all think the same or agree on the best solutions.

    We certainly don’t always agree on policy.

    But we can share values.

    We can share a desire to reduce harm, improve people’s lives and create something better.

    And sometimes being surrounded by people who understand that without you having to explain it can be hugely restorative.

    Creating shared ownership

    One of the changes we’ve made to our conference over the last few years has been introducing an exhibition space.

    It might seem like a relatively small thing, but I think it has made a real difference.

    It helps make the conference feel less like our event and much more like everyone’s event.

    Organisations and groups can have a presence. People can meet each other outside the formal programme. Conversations happen that we could never have planned into an agenda.

    We’ve also made a conscious effort to have lots of different people chairing sessions and contributing throughout the event.

    That’s really important to me.

    If we’re talking about bringing people together, then the space needs to feel like it belongs to the people who are in it.

    And that leads me on to something else that I think is fundamental.

    Who gets to be in the room

    For me, there is no meaningful conversation about drugs policy, practice or drug-related harm without the voices of people who are actually experiencing those issues.

    That isn’t a tokenistic position.

    It’s a fundamental part of how I believe organisations should work.

    Our values are clear about the importance of involving people with lived and living experience. But for me, values aren’t really values if they only appear on a website or in a strategy document.

    They have to show up in what we actually do.

    They have to influence who gets invited.

    Who gets heard.

    Who gets to shape the conversation.

    Who gets to challenge our thinking.

    And ultimately, who gets to influence the solutions.

    People who are experiencing the issues we’re trying to solve are often closest to understanding what needs to change.

    That doesn’t mean they have all the answers.

    It doesn’t mean their experience is the same as everyone else’s.

    And it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t bring together people with different expertise and perspectives.

    It means we need to create enough space for those voices to genuinely influence what happens next.

    That’s why, for example, the Advocates for Change event that my colleagues organise the day before our conference is so important to me.

    It’s why I seek sponsorship that enables people with lived and living experience and families to attend our conference.

    And it’s why I want those voices throughout the event, rather than confined to one particular session or labelled as the ‘lived experience’ contribution.

    I believe that’s what living your values looks like.

    Making space to think

    There is another connection I’ve been thinking about too.

    One of the things I value most about coaching is the creation of space.

    Space to stop. To think.

    Space to hear yourself actually think when everything around you feels noisy.

    And I think gathering can create something similar.

    We spend so much of our working lives moving from one thing to the next. Emails, meetings, deadlines, crises, decisions, problems that need solving.

    Particularly in a sector where there is always another urgent issue, it can be difficult to step back and think about the bigger picture.

    Gathering creates a reason to pause.

    You hear something that makes you think differently.

    Someone says something that challenges an assumption you’ve been carrying around.

    You have a conversation with someone you’ve never met before.

    You reconnect with somebody you haven’t seen for ages.

    You realise someone else is dealing with exactly the same challenge you are.

    And sometimes you just remember why you do the work in the first place.

    That’s not insignificant.

    What we take away

    Of course, we want people to leave our conference with new knowledge.

    We want them to have learned something.

    We want ideas to turn into action.

    But I think what people take away is sometimes much less tangible than that.

    They take away a feeling.

    A renewed sense of purpose.

    A connection.

    A conversation.

    A new idea.

    A reminder that they are not alone.

    Maybe even a little bit of energy to take back into what can sometimes be incredibly difficult work.

    And maybe that’s why gathering matters.

    Because sometimes we don’t need another solution.

    Sometimes we need somewhere to put down the weight we’re carrying for a little while, be around people who understand it, and pick it back up again with our batteries recharged and a little more energy.

    And then we learn from it

    There is one final part of gathering that I think is important.

    After every event, we look carefully at the feedback.

    We bring the events team together and talk honestly about what worked, what didn’t, what could have been better and what we should do differently next time.

    There is no blame attached to that conversation.

    Things will inevitably go wrong.

    Something won’t work quite as we’d hoped.

    A session might run over.

    A practical detail might be missed.

    That’s not failure.

    It’s learning.

    I think that’s important in leadership too.

    Creating a space where people can be honest about what happened, without immediately looking for someone to blame, gives us a much better chance of improving.

    The conference isn’t perfect.

    It doesn’t need to be.

    What matters to me is that we keep listening, keep learning and keep trying to create something that reflects our values and gives people what they need.

    We need each other

    I think one of the biggest things I’ve been reminded of from this year’s conference is that gathering is about much more than bringing people into the same physical space.

    It’s about connection.

    It’s about belonging.

    It’s about creating opportunities for people to feel part of something bigger than themselves.

    It’s about making space for different voices, particularly those closest to the issues we’re trying to change.

    And it’s about giving people the opportunity to stop, reflect, recharge and reconnect with why the work matters.

    Maybe that’s why, despite all the technology we have available to us, I still think there is something really special about being in a room together.

    You can’t recreate that connection online in the same way.

    Sometimes you just need to be there.

    And maybe that’s the point.

    We need each other.

    Especially when the work is hard.

    Especially when the issues are complex.

    And especially when we are trying to create change in a space where there isn’t always agreement about how we get there.

    Gathering reminds us that although we may not have all the answers, we don’t have to figure it all out on our own.

    If this resonated with you…

    If you’re leading in a complex or demanding environment and finding it difficult to create the space to stop, think and reconnect with what matters, coaching can provide that space.

    Whether you’re navigating a particular leadership challenge, thinking about how you bring people with you, or simply need a confidential place to step back from the noise, I’d love to explore whether coaching could be useful for you.

    You can find out more about my coaching and book a complimentary chat here.

  • Coaching Isn’t Just for When Something Goes Wrong

    Coaching Isn’t Just for When Something Goes Wrong

    As you might be coming to realise, I think about coaching a lot.

    Maybe unsurprisingly, given that I’ve spent the last year formally studying it, practising it and now building it into a bigger part of my working life.

    And there’s something that’s become increasingly obvious to me…

    I don’t think enough people think coaching is for them.

    When people hear the word coaching, I think there are a few different things that can come to mind.

    Thinking it’s something reserved for senior executives.

    Or something that other people get.

    Or, less positively, something that happens when your line manager has decided that you have a performance issue that needs to be addressed.

    And don’t get me wrong, coaching can absolutely have a role in supporting someone who is struggling with something at work. But I think we’ve got a problem if this is one of the main ways that people encounter coaching.

    Because coaching isn’t something that should only be brought in when something has gone wrong.

    We all need space to think

    Throughout my whole career I’ve seen the value of having someone to talk things through with.

    Someone who isn’t there to tell you what to do, but someone who can ask the questions that make you stop and think.

    Someone who gives you the space to properly explore what’s going on rather than immediately jumping into problem-solving mode.

    I think that’s especially important as you move into leadership.

    The more senior you become, the less space you can have to just think things through out loud.

    And if you’re a Chief Executive or Executive Director, that can become even more pronounced.

    You’re used to having a manager above you. Someone who provides supervision, support, direction and perhaps a bit of challenge.

    Then suddenly it’s you.

    And there can be an enormous pressure to feel like you should be able to handle everything yourself.

    You don’t have to have it all figured out

    I think this is particularly challenging for people stepping into their first senior leadership or executive role.

    There can be a feeling that you need to prove yourself immediately.

    That you should know exactly what you’re doing.

    That you should be making a noticeable impact straight away.

    That everyone else seems to have it together and you’re the only one wondering whether you’re doing enough.

    My own experience tells me something quite different.

    It takes time.

    I was reminded of this recently when someone told me that I’m a very different leader now from the person who first took on the CEO role in my organisation.

    They’re absolutely right.

    I was a very different leader then.

    Part of that was experience, of course. But it was also the difference between doing a job and leading an organisation.

    I had spent many years being heavily involved in the programmes and detail of the work. Suddenly I was in a much more strategic role, carrying a very different level of responsibility and having to think about the organisation in a completely different way.

    I didn’t suddenly become a good leader the day I became CEO.

    I had to grow into it. And I am still working on that every single day.

    I think we sometimes underestimate how much space people need to do that.

    What might coaching actually help with?

    It could be navigating organisational change.

    Feeling overwhelmed by competing priorities and struggling to find time to think strategically.

    Carrying the weight of difficult decisions.

    Navigating complex relationships with boards, funders, politicians, partners or other stakeholders.

    Managing scrutiny or challenging conversations.

    Wanting to become more influential while remaining true to your values.

    Trying to develop a leadership style that empowers people rather than simply directing them.

    Supporting your team’s wellbeing while realising that you’re neglecting your own.

    Or perhaps you’re successful on the outside but recognising that leadership has become harder than you expected.

    Maybe you’ve simply lost sight of the reason you wanted to lead in the first place.

    None of these things necessarily mean that something is wrong.

    They mean you’re human and you’re doing a difficult job.

    The culture around management

    One of the things I find really interesting when I’m coaching people is how often some very basic leadership and management challenges come up.

    Not because I think people should somehow know everything about managing others without being taught or experiencing good managers before.

    Quite the opposite.

    It makes me wonder what we’re doing in our organisations to prepare people for leadership.

    Have we given people the skills they need?

    Have we talked enough about what it means to be a supportive manager?

    Have we helped people understand how to have difficult conversations, give feedback, build trust, empower others and look after their own wellbeing?

    Or have we simply promoted people because they were excellent at their job and then expected them to somehow know how to lead other people?

    There’s a whole other blog in that question so I’ll leave it there for now.

    Coaching isn’t about fixing people

    This is the bit I want to be most clear about.

    Coaching isn’t about me, or any other coach, deciding what someone needs to work on and then fixing it for them.

    The person I’m coaching brings what they want to bring.

    My role is to create the space for them to think.

    That might mean thinking with greater confidence, navigating uncertainty, making a difficult decision, preparing for a challenging conversation, exploring a relationship that isn’t working, considering what they really want next or simply having some uninterrupted time to step back from the noise.

    Sometimes the thing they arrive wanting to talk about isn’t actually the thing underneath it.

    That’s part of the value of having someone who isn’t caught up in the situation with you.

    Normalising coaching

    I would love to see coaching become much more of the norm.

    Not something you access because you’ve been identified as having a problem.

    Not something reserved for people at the very top of an organisation.

    And not something you only seek out when you’re struggling.

    But something that becomes part of how we support people throughout their working lives.

    Particularly people in leadership roles.

    Because leadership can be lonely.

    It can be complicated.

    It can be incredibly rewarding and incredibly demanding, sometimes at exactly the same time.

    Having a confidential space to think shouldn’t be a luxury.

    And it shouldn’t be a sign that you’re struggling.

    It can simply be a recognition that leading well takes reflection.

    And of all of the many people I’ve coached, apart from one person who’d had a coach as a former athlete, not one has previously experienced coaching. So it’s far from the norm currently, and that needs to change.

    If this resonated with you…

    If you’re looking for space to think, whether you’re navigating a specific leadership challenge, stepping into a new role or simply want a trusted thinking partner as you develop as a leader, coaching might be worth exploring.

    I currently have a small number of spaces available for one-to-one coaching with executive and senior leaders.

    If you’d like to find out more, I’d love to welcome you for a complimentary call to have a chat about what you’re looking for and whether coaching could be useful for you.

  • Getting Out of the Way

    Getting Out of the Way

    Last week we held our annual Stop the Deaths conference.

    Two days of powerful conversations, challenge, learning, emotion and connection.

    Every year I’m reminded why bringing people together matters.

    People arrive carrying the weight of this work and the realities that they live with. They leave with fresh ideas, renewed energy and a reminder that none of us are doing this alone.

    Watching that happen is a privilege.

    But this year it also reminded me of something else.

    Sometimes the best thing a leader can do is get out of the way.

    Knowing where I add value

    For many years, this conference was something I was heavily involved in from start to finish.

    As my role has changed, so has my contribution.

    These days, my role is much more strategic.

    I spend time thinking about the overall theme, the purpose of the event and the conversations we most need to have.

    I work with colleagues to shape the programme, identify speakers, build partnerships and secure sponsorship that helps us make the conference as inclusive as possible. One of the things I’m most proud of is that sponsorship allows us to provide free places for people with lived and living experience, ensuring the voices that matter most are at the heart of the event rather than on the sidelines.

    I’m always looking for ideas too.

    This year, for example, we gave delegates packets of wildflower seeds to plant in memory of those we’ve lost to overdose. That idea came from the heartbreaking attendance at Naomi Burke-Shyne’s memorial event and thinking about how we might create a similar gesture of reflection for our own conference delegates.

    That’s the part of the role I love.

    Looking ahead.

    Connecting ideas.

    Thinking strategically about the experience we’re trying to create.

    And then I step back

    Once the direction is clear, my role in the event changes.

    Or perhaps more accurately…my job is to get out of the way.

    From that point on, the conference belongs to my team.

    The speaker liaison.

    The travel arrangements.

    The venue.

    The exhibition space.

    The communications.

    The ticketing.

    The accessibility requirements.

    The catering.

    The delegate packs.

    The chair briefings.

    The staff guidance.

    The countless details that nobody notices unless something goes wrong.

    Every single one of those things is delivered by people whose expertise is far greater than mine.

    And that’s exactly how it should be.

    Trust is visible

    I think people often talk about empowering teams as though it’s simply about delegating work.

    I don’t think it is.

    Empowerment is about trust.

    It’s about being clear about the outcome you’re trying to achieve and then giving people the autonomy to make it happen.

    Of course I’ll occasionally appear with another uninvited idea halfway through planning…

    (I’m fairly sure my team would tell you that’s inevitable!)

    But I don’t feel the need to be copied into every email or approve every decision.

    Not because I don’t care.

    Quite the opposite.

    It’s because I do care.

    I care enough to know that exceptional people produce exceptional work when they’re trusted to use their judgement.

    The people behind the scenes

    One of my favourite parts of the conference is watching my colleagues in action.

    Setting up for the day.

    Welcoming nervous speakers.

    Quietly solving problems before anyone else even notices.

    Or jumping to deal with problems that are obvious (that drilling!).

    Checking in on delegates.

    Supporting panel chairs.

    Making people feel valued.

    Creating an atmosphere that is both professional and incredibly human.

    Most delegates will never see the hundreds of conversations, calls, planners and last-minute adjustments that make those two days possible.

    I received this lovely message from a bereaved family member following the event:

    “I’ve been so impressed by everyone from SDF who I interacted with or observed over the 2 days. They were so friendly and inclusive and clearly passionate about the work they do.”

    Leadership isn’t centre stage

    It’s easy to assume that leadership means being at the centre of everything.

    I now think it’s almost the opposite.

    Throughout the conference a number of people asked me if I was nervous before we started, or congratulated me afterwards on how well the event had gone.

    I found myself giving the same response every time.

    I wasn’t nervous. I was excited.

    Not because I take the event for granted, but because I had complete confidence in the people around me.

    Of course I have an important role to play in shaping the conference and setting its direction. I care deeply about the event and feel a real sense of responsibility for creating something that reflects our values and serves the people who come along.

    But I can’t take the credit for making it happen.

    That belongs to my team.

    They’re the ones who bring the conference to life. They’re the ones who make sure every detail comes together.

    Leadership, for me, is knowing where you add the most value.

    It’s creating the conditions for other people to do their best work.

    It’s bringing together talented people, being clear about the vision and then resisting the temptation to control every detail.

    Because when we hold on too tightly, we don’t just create more work for ourselves.

    We also deny others the opportunity to demonstrate just how capable they are.

    Watching people shine

    One of the greatest privileges of my role is watching people grow into opportunities they might never have imagined for themselves.

    Seeing colleagues confidently lead pieces of work.

    Watching people chair sessions, present their work, speak up for what they believe in, manage major events or solve problems I would never have thought of.

    None of that happens if leaders insist on remaining the expert in everything.

    If this year’s conference reminded me of anything, it’s that the quality of our leadership isn’t measured by how much we do ourselves.

    It’s measured by how many other people we’re able to help succeed.

    Sometimes the most valuable contribution we make isn’t taking centre stage.

    It’s creating the conditions for others to shine.

    If this resonated with you…

    If you’re looking to become a leader who empowers others, builds trust and creates the conditions for people to do their best work, coaching can provide the space to reflect on your own leadership and the impact you’re having on those around you.

    I currently have a small number of coaching spaces available for executive and senior leaders. If you’d like to explore whether coaching is the right fit for you, I’d love to have a chat about it. Find out more and book a free, no obligation call here.

  • Leading Authentically

    Leading Authentically

    I’ve been struggling a bit with what to write about this week.

    Not because there hasn’t been enough going on – quite the opposite.

    Next week is our annual conference, so much of my week has been spent preparing opening speeches and thinking about the conversations we’ll be having over the two days.

    As I was writing my opening remarks, I found myself reflecting on something I don’t think I’ve written about in much detail.

    Authenticity.

    More specifically, what it means to lead authentically.

    Believing what you say

    One of the things I’m most grateful for in my role is that I genuinely believe in what I’m saying when I stand up in front of an audience.

    That might sound obvious.

    But the more I thought about it, the more I realised what a privilege that is.

    The work I do sits within a policy area that can be incredibly polarised. Whilst I think almost everyone ultimately wants the same thing – that fewer people experience harm and fewer families lose loved ones – we don’t always agree on how we get there.

    For me, my beliefs around harm reduction have never been about lowering ambition or expecting less for people.

    Quite the opposite.

    They’re about recognising that people should have choices, be treated with dignity and compassion, and be supported to pursue the goals that matter to them, not the goals that somebody else has decided they should have.

    I’ve believed that for a long time.

    So when I stand up and speak about it, I’m not performing a role.

    I’m just articulating what I genuinely believe.

    Coaching has changed me

    Interestingly, I’m not sure that I’d have approached this in quite the same way twenty years ago.

    When I worked in drug treatment services as a mental health nurse, I cared enormously about the people I worked with.

    But if I’m honest with myself, I probably spent more time trying to influence people towards what I thought was the right path for them.

    Experience and coaching has fundamentally changed that.

    It’s reinforced something that was probably always there but hadn’t fully developed.

    Lasting change rarely happens because somebody tells us what we should do.

    It happens when people are given the space to explore what matters to them, identify their own goals and take ownership of the changes they want to make.

    Looking back, I know I would ask different questions now.

    I’d spend more time understanding before trying to influence.

    I’d be more comfortable sitting with uncertainty.

    I’d be more curious than directive.

    I think that’s one of the greatest gifts coaching has given me – not just as a coach, but as a leader.

    The pressure to fit in

    Leading authentically isn’t always comfortable.

    There have been plenty of occasions throughout my career where I’ve found myself sitting around board tables, parliamentary committees or stakeholder meetings knowing that what I was about to say might not be popular.

    There have been times where I’ve challenged policy.

    Times where I’ve questioned decisions.

    Times where I’ve spoken up because I believed the people we exist to serve deserved somebody to do so.

    That doesn’t mean being argumentative.

    It doesn’t mean trying to win every debate.

    And it certainly doesn’t mean personally attacking people who hold different views.

    I genuinely care about maintaining relationships.

    I believe we can disagree respectfully.

    I actually think we have to if we really want to influence change.

    But I also don’t think authenticity means saying what people want to hear just because it feels safer.

    The cost of staying quiet

    I sometimes wonder what it must feel like to lead an organisation where you constantly have to dampen down your own beliefs.

    Perhaps because you’re worried about upsetting funders.

    Maybe you’re concerned about criticism.

    Or because you don’t want to lose your seat at a particular table.

    That must be exhausting.

    One of my favourite country songs has the line:

    “I’m not selling my soul for a seat at your table.”

    I love it, it’s highly relatable.

    Not because leadership should be confrontational.

    But because I never want to find myself in a position where I’m saying something publicly that I don’t genuinely believe.

    If I did, I think I’d lose a little piece of myself every time.

    Relationships matter

    Of course, authenticity doesn’t give us permission to be unkind.

    One of the things I’ve worked hardest on over the years is making sure that people always know where I stand, whilst also knowing that I respect them.

    I want people to leave a conversation with me understanding my position, even if they completely disagree with it.

    Because once relationships are lost, influence becomes much harder.

    For me, leadership has never been about choosing between honesty and relationships.

    It’s about holding onto both.

    Staying true to your purpose

    As an organisation, we’ve been advocating for harm reduction for almost forty years.

    Many of the things now reflected in national policy are ideas we’ve been talking about for decades.

    We didn’t change our views because policy changed.

    If anything, policy has gradually caught up with what many people have been saying for years.

    That doesn’t mean we stop challenging.

    If there are things that aren’t working for the communities we exist to serve, we’ll continue to say so.

    That’s our responsibility.

    Not because we enjoy criticism.

    But because we care about getting things right.

    The leader you can live with

    Leadership isn’t about pleasing everyone.

    It isn’t about avoiding difficult conversations or carefully crafting a version of yourself that nobody could possibly disagree with.

    It’s about knowing what you stand for.

    Being prepared to explain why.

    Listening when others challenge your thinking.

    Changing your mind when the evidence tells you to.

    And having the courage to remain true to your values, even when that isn’t the easiest path to take.

    Because at the end of the day, the person you have to live with most is yourself.

    For me, that’s what leading authentically really means.

    If you’ve followed these blogs for a while, you’ll know how much my coaching journey has shaped the way I think about leadership. It’s also the reason I’ve launched Leading in Practice Coaching and Consultancy Ltd. I’m currently taking on a small number of executive and senior leaders who are looking for a confidential space to think, reflect and develop their leadership. If that sounds like something that would be valuable to you, check out my programmes and I’d be very happy to have a chat about it.

  • The Leaders Who Stay With You

    The Leaders Who Stay With You

    This week I had a meeting with someone who reminded me exactly what I admire in leadership.

    Without realising it, she left me feeling energised, motivated and reflecting on the people I’ve been fortunate enough to work alongside throughout my career.

    It got me reflecting on the qualities that stay with us long after the meeting, or encounter or whatever else, has finished.

    The disruptors

    I absolutely love seeing women disruptors.

    When I say disruptors, I don’t mean people who enjoy causing conflict or creating division for the sake of it.

    I mean people who are willing to go out on a limb.

    People who are prepared to challenge the status quo.

    People who speak with conviction because they care deeply about a cause, even when doing so makes them unpopular.

    There’s a quiet confidence about leaders like that.

    They don’t need to be the loudest person in the room.

    They don’t resort to personal attacks or disrespect.

    They simply know what they stand for and are prepared to stand there, even when it isn’t easy.

    When I’ve been in the company of someone like this or watched them in action, I always leave feeling inspired.

    Strength comes in different forms

    Over the years, I’ve admired all sorts of leadership styles.

    Some people have an incredible ability to remain calm under pressure. No matter how difficult the situation becomes, they somehow create a sense of steadiness around them.

    Others are relentless in the best possible way. They’re tenacious, resilient and fiercely committed to improving things, yet never lose their respect for the people around them.

    Then there are the people who are genuine cheerleaders.

    The leaders who celebrate other people’s success without feeling threatened by it.

    Who open doors.

    Who recommend colleagues.

    Who are genuinely really happy when someone else does well.

    I don’t think we talk enough about how powerful that quality is.

    What we admire in others

    I’ve realised over the years that every leader I’ve admired has influenced me in some way.

    Sometimes I’ve consciously adopted qualities I’d like to develop in myself.

    Sometimes I’ve watched someone handle a difficult conversation and thought, I’d love to be able to do that.

    Other times I’ve witnessed leadership that made me think the exact opposite and known immediately that isn’t how I want people to experience me.

    Those times have been just as valuable.

    Leadership isn’t developed only by replicating the qualities of the people we admire.

    Sometimes it’s shaped by deciding what we’re definitely unwilling to become.

    The trap of comparison

    One thing I notice in coaching is how often leaders compare themselves to other people.

    They’ll say things like:

    “I’m not confident enough.”

    “I’m too quiet.”

    “I’m not assertive enough.”

    “I’m too passionate.”

    The interesting thing is that the very quality they’re worried about is often the thing someone else admires most about them.

    The thoughtful leader wishes they were more outspoken.

    The outspoken leader wishes they listened more.

    The calm leader worries they don’t show enough passion.

    The passionate leader worries they’re too intense…

    Perhaps we’re all spending too much time trying to become someone else’s version of a good leader.

    Finding your own style

    I’ve borrowed ideas from countless people throughout my career.

    I’m sure I always will.

    But I’ve also realised that trying to copy someone else’s leadership style never quite fits.

    The most effective leaders I’ve met all have something in common.

    They’re authentic.

    Their leadership reflects who they are, not who they think they’re supposed to be.

    That doesn’t mean they stop learning.

    Far from it.

    It means they’re confident enough to take inspiration from others without losing themselves in the process.

    Becoming the leader you’ll be remembered for

    The longer I’ve been in leadership, the less interested I’ve become in trying to lead like someone else.

    I’m much more interested in becoming the kind of leader people remember because of how they made others feel.

    Someone who listened.

    Someone who challenged when it mattered.

    Someone who stayed true to their values.

    Someone who celebrated other people’s success.

    Someone who had the courage to speak up when it counted.

    Perhaps that’s one of the greatest privileges of leadership.

    We get to choose how people experience us.

    And perhaps the leaders we admire most simply give us permission to become more of ourselves.

    Finally

    If you’ve followed these blogs for a while, you’ll know how much my coaching journey has shaped the way I think about leadership. It’s also the reason I’ve recently launched Leading in Practice Coaching and Consultancy Ltd.

    I’m currently taking on a small number of executive and senior leaders who are looking for a confidential space to think, reflect and develop their leadership. If that sounds like something that would be valuable to you, check out my programmes and I’d be very happy to have a chat about it.

  • Finding a New Professional Home

    Finding a New Professional Home

    I’ve spoken before about the unexpected feelings I experienced earlier this year after cancelling my nursing registration.

    After more than 20 years in nursing, it wasn’t about no longer paying an annual fee or removing my name from a register. Nursing had been such a significant part of my identity for so long that letting it go left me feeling a little bereft.

    I don’t regret the decision. My career has taken me in a different direction and I knew it was the right time.

    But it did make me realise that there’s real value in belonging to a professional community.

    Finding the right fit

    As my coaching journey has developed over the past year, I knew I wanted to become part of a professional body that reflected the way I want to practise.

    There are several excellent coaching organisations, each with their own strengths. After spending some time looking into them, I chose the European Mentoring and Coaching Council (EMCC).

    What drew me to the EMCC wasn’t just coaching.

    It was coaching and mentoring.

    The more I coach, the more I’ve come to appreciate that leadership development rarely sits neatly at one end of the spectrum. Sometimes people need the space to think their own way through a challenge. Sometimes they benefit from drawing on the experience and perspective of someone who’s been there or walked a similar path.

    Being able to move thoughtfully between coaching and mentoring, whilst being clear about which approach I’m taking and why, has become an important part of my own practice.

    That philosophy felt like a natural fit with the EMCC.

    Learning never stops

    Joining the EMCC has already been really beneficial beyond membership.

    I’ve attended webinars through both EMCC Scotland and EMCC UK, connected with other coaches and mentors, and continued to build my knowledge through ongoing professional development. I actually met someone on one of those calls who invited me on to her podcast which was really nice.

    One of the things I enjoy most about coaching is recognising that there is always something new to learn.

    Every coaching conversation is different and everyone brings different experiences.

    It’s definitely keeping my brain active!

    Accreditation

    Following my ILM Level 7 Diploma for Executive and Senior Level Coaches and Mentors, I was keen to pursue professional accreditation.

    Receiving the diploma demonstrated that I’d successfully completed the qualification.

    Accreditation felt like an important next step for me.

    For me, it represents a commitment to practising ethically, continuing to develop professionally and holding myself accountable to recognised standards.

    There are four levels of accreditation with EMCC Global and because my qualification aligns with the framework, I was able to apply for the third level – Senior Practitioner . It was reassuring to see that my years of leadership, supervision, mentoring and coaching experience were recognised alongside the formal qualification. The fourth and final level is Master Practitioner so who knows what the future might hold!

    I did discover, slightly too late, that I’d completed considerably more paperwork than I actually needed to…

    Typical.

    Still, I’d rather be over-prepared than under-prepared.

    The accreditation team were incredibly helpful throughout the process and it wasn’t long before I received the news that my application had been successful.

    What it means to me

    Receiving my accreditation isn’t the end of anything.

    If anything, it feels like another beginning.

    Just as my nursing registration represented a commitment to lifelong learning and professional standards, my EMCC accreditation feels like the next part of that journey.

    It gives people confidence that I’m committed to coaching ethically, engaging in regular supervision, maintaining my professional development and continually reflecting on my own practice.

    Those are things that really matter to me. Not because they’re requirements, but because they represent the kind of coach I want to be.

    Looking ahead

    Alongside receiving my accreditation, I’ve also been putting the finishing touches to my coaching website.

    The professional photographs are now in place (I’m pleased to report I’ve finally managed to look like someone who’s approachable rather than investigating a crime scene) and I’ve added more information about my coaching programmes and how people can work with me.

    Looking back over the past year, quite a lot has changed.

    From completing my coaching qualification, introducing coaching within my organisation, establishing Leading in Practice Coaching and Consultancy Ltd, and now achieving EMCC Senior Practitioner accreditation.

    Each step has reinforced something I’ve believed for a long time.

    Leadership is never finished. Neither is learning.

    Onwards we go, from registered nurse to accredited coach!