Helping: How to Offer, Give, and Receive Help (The Humble Leadership Series Book 1)

by Edgar H. Schein

When it works well, we both gain status. But alas, often it does not go well and we run the risk of losing status— not helping when help was needed, trying to help when help was not needed or wanted, giving the wrong kind of help, or not sustaining help when it is needed over a period of time.

The most common version of unhelpful help that I have experienced as both helper and client concerns the computer. When I call the help line I often don’t even understand the diagnostic questions that the helper asks me in order to determine what help I need. When my computer coach tells me the several steps I need to take to solve the problem, I don’t know how to interrupt to say, “Wait, I don’t understand the first step.”

On the other hand, another computer coach I hired asked me what my personal goals were in learning to use the computer, elicited my desire to use it primarily for writing, and then showed me all the programs and tools that would make writing easier. That felt great. Yet when my wife asks me for help with the computer, I routinely fall into the same trap of telling her what I would do, which turns out to be more than she can handle, and we both end up frustrated.

We do not typically think of an effective team as being a group of people who really know how to help each other in the performance of a task, yet that is precisely what good teamwork is—successful reciprocal help.

The first and most important of these is that all communication between two parties is a reciprocal process that must be, or at least must seem to be, fair and equitable.

The second fundamental cultural principle is that all relationships in human cultures are to a large degree based on scripted roles that we learn to play early in life and which become so automatic that we are often not even conscious of them.

When social exchanges don’t work properly because the two people involved define the situation differently and are, therefore, using different currencies, the result is anxiety, tension, anger, discomfort, embarrassment, shame, and/or guilt.

Sometimes we test a relationship by initially claiming a high value for ourselves to see whether the other person will respond appropriately. We do this by announcing a high status (“Hi, I’m Professor Schein from MIT . . .”) or by revealing something more personal and meaningful (“I really am not feeling too great today . . .” or “I’ve just come from my therapist. . . .”) to see whether the other person will understand, respond with sympathy, and acknowledge what we have said. Often this acknowledgment occurs through the other person revealing something more personal as well. And it is through cycles of this kind of testing and response that we build what we eventually call a more intimate relationship.

If you do not pay attention, if you start a side conversation, if you look over the person’s shoulder at someone else who is more interesting to you at that moment, if you yawn, if you interrupt with, “I already knew that,” or use a disinterested tone of voice—these are all behaviors that would disrupt the building of that relationship, threaten the speaker’s face, cause potential embarrassment, and lead the speaker to conclude that you are rude, or at least not worth relating to, and should be avoided in the future.

If I meet an old buddy and treat him very formally because I don’t remember him, he could well take umbrage at being forgotten, and I could be quite embarrassed by my memory failure.

If we offer help, we expect one of two things to happen. Either it is accepted and appropriately appreciated afterward; or it is not accepted, but we are thanked immediately for our offer. It is not OK for the other person to walk away without a response.

in the Japanese culture, subordinates are expected to go out drinking with their boss so that they can give the boss and each other feedback by saying things that would offend and threaten face if they were said soberly and at the place of work.

Trusting another person means that 1) whatever value I claim for myself in interactions with that person will be understood and accepted, and 2) the other person will not take advantage of me or use my revealed information to my disadvantage.

A parent assisting a child would usually be considered parenting rather than helping, and one may want to speculate on whether the parent acting in the adult role might produce a different and possibly even better outcome. Thus the parent responding to the child’s “Help me with my homework” could say, “What is troubling you?” (the adult response) instead of, “Let me see it; here is the answer” (one version of the parental response).

One may realize that one cannot really help but be seduced into using the power granted for personal gain. It is psychologically hard to give up such granted power, to say with humility, “I don’t know if I can help or not” or “I cannot really help you.” There is a huge temptation to take a chance that one can help. I notice this especially if someone asks me for help with a computer problem. Even if I know that I probably don’t understand the situation any better than the person asking, I leap in and try to help, sometimes making things worse.

at the beginning, every helping relationship is in a state of imbalance. The client is one down and therefore vulnerable; the helper is one up and therefore powerful. Much of what goes wrong in the helping process is the failure to acknowledge this initial imbalance and deal with it.

The trap for the helper is to move too rapidly to solutions, to provide advice or guidance on the hypothetical problem and, thereby, cut off the opportunity to learn what the real problem might be.

Permanent dependency may be appropriate in some cases of caregiving, as when we push a relative in a wheelchair or pick things up for someone who cannot bend down. But in most helping situations, one of the goals is to enable the client to solve the problem if it recurs.

seeking it, but “help” may be a convenient word for whatever is being sought. Since it is not socially appropriate to say, “Pay attention to me,” we can force someone to give us attention by asking for help because that request imposes an obligation to respond.

Sometimes the potential client has already defined the problem and worked out a solution, but wants confirmation, positive evaluation, maybe even praise.

Reinforcing initial dependency can be dysfunctional because many kinds of problems require the active participation of the client in developing a solution.

If help is considered to be some form of influence, then the principle that you can only influence someone else if you are willing to be influenced yourself is quite appropriate.

When the client slumps down, relieved to have revealed the problem, and says, “What should I do now?” I find myself getting anxious and maybe even a little angry. If I respond with “Well what are some alternatives that you can think of?” or “What have you tried so far?” and the client has some answers, then we can proceed. If, however, the client continues with “Oh, I don’t know, tell me what I should do . . .” I find myself getting more distant, leading ultimately to suggesting that I cannot really help.

One way out of this dilemma is to say to the dependent client, “I am not sure I can help because I really feel that you should be more active in finding a solution yourself” or “I am uncomfortable telling you what you should do because I am not in your shoes and, therefore, can only tell you what I would do and that might not be at all appropriate.”

My computer consultant would typically respond to a straightforward information question with a detailed and lengthy explanation of how the computer worked before answering the question.