‘The main risk with going live on Friday is -’ ‘Yes, absolutely. We’ll need to tell the client.’ And off the meeting goes. Somebody volunteers to draft an email. Somebody else asks who’s signing it off. You’re still sitting there with the main risk, which was that nobody would be around over the weekend to fix anything if it went wrong. Being interrupted is irritating. Perhaps it’s particularly irritating when the person who interrupts you agrees with a point you haven’t made

It's hard not to feel uncomfortable when a colleague responds to your carefully considered email with: ‘Fine.’ Fine? As in absolutely fine? Or fine as in you’ve disappointed them professionally and possibly as a human being? Before long, you’re rereading your original message, searching for the offence. Your colleague, meanwhile, may have been replying on their phone while trying to eat a sandwich. Welcome to workplace mind reading. An impressive ability to know exactly what

Ever walked into an important meeting and suddenly forgotten how to breathe? Perhaps your mouth became dry. Your heart raced. Your hands felt strangely warm - or strangely cold. You heard your own voice and wondered who on earth had replaced it with someone who sounded less competent. If so, congratulations. You’re human. One of the biggest misconceptions about confident communicators is that they don’t experience similar physical reactions. In reality, they often do. The dif

You know your subject. You’ve prepared for the meeting. You’re perfectly comfortable with everything you intended to say. Then someone asks a question you weren’t expecting. Suddenly, you’re speaking before you’ve quite decided what you think. There’s a lengthy introduction, a little background, a qualification or two... Somewhere in there is an answer, although you’re beginning to wish someone would help you find it. If you want to get better at thinking on your feet in meet

‘That’s an interesting idea.’ Four words. Perfectly polite. And, depending on who says them and how, they can mean almost anything. I love it. I hadn’t thought of that. Please stop talking. This will never happen while I’m in charge. Most of what matters in a conversation isn’t in the words at all. It sits underneath them. Actors have a name for this. Subtext. And learning to read it (and to notice your own) is one of the most useful communication skills you can develop. What

The meeting ends. You close your laptop, make a cup of tea, and then it begins… The conversation after the conversation Why did I say it like that? Did I interrupt her? Was that joke a mistake? Perhaps I should send a message to explain what I meant. Meanwhile, everyone else in the meeting has probably moved on to their next task. You are still replaying the conversation in your head, mentally editing a scene that has already finished. If you often find yourself overthinking

Before the meeting begins, everyone has already checked how the boss is feeling. Not by asking. By watching. The greeting, the expression, the way a bag lands on the table. Small clues that help people decide how much honesty the room can accommodate today. Perhaps you’ve worked somewhere like this. A difficult question can wait. A mistake needs careful packaging. Someone catches your eye and gives a tiny shake of the head that says: not now. Gradually, managing the leader be

Tomorrow morning, I’ll be running the Oxford Half Marathon. I’ve run this route several years in a row, and one of the things that keeps bringing me back is a feeling I find difficult to recreate elsewhere: doing something entirely personal, while being part of something much bigger. Everyone is heading towards the same finish line. What getting there means will be different for each of us. That combination is what I love about running events. The same route, a different expe

You’ve probably sat through this meeting. Someone has prepared thoroughly. The slides are immaculate. The data is sound. They speak clearly and for exactly the right amount of time. And at the end, nobody is quite sure what they were supposed to do with any of it. Nothing was wrong, exactly. But nothing really happened either. In my experience, this is rarely a problem of content or delivery. It’s a problem of intention. The speaker knew what they wanted to say. However, they

On the way to work, you practise what you are going to say. You try one opening, reject it, and try another. By the time you reach the meeting, you have already had the conversation several times. In one version, the other person becomes defensive. In another, they deny there is a problem. You have a reply ready for both. Then the real conversation begins, and they say something you did not expect. Prepare enough, but not too much Preparing for a difficult conversation is sen

A client of mine recently travelled to Japan and noticed something intriguing on the railway. Drivers and platform staff appeared to be performing a series of highly deliberate rituals: pointing towards signals, sweeping their hands along platforms and calling out what they could see. To an unfamiliar observer, the gestures can look unnecessary, and almost theatrical. In fact, they are part of a Japanese safety practice known as shisa kanko, usually translated as 'pointing an

The moment someone is asked to speak in public, they often become intensely aware of themselves. What should I do with my hands? Am I speaking too quickly? Do I look nervous? Can everyone hear the tremor in my voice? What happens if I forget what comes next? These concerns are entirely understandable. But together, they create a problem: the speaker is paying attention to the one person in the room who should not be their primary focus. The more closely we monitor ourselves,

You enter the conversation feeling composed. Then the other person becomes defensive. Their voice tightens. They interrupt. Perhaps they accuse you of something you believe is unfair. Before long, your pace has quickened. Your shoulders have risen. You are listening less carefully and preparing your defence. Their emotional state has begun to become yours. This is emotional contagion: our tendency to absorb and reflect the emotions of those around us, often without consciousl

Fidgeting is often treated as a body-language failure, but repetitive movements usually serve a purpose. Touching your face, clicking a pen, adjusting your clothes or shifting position may release nervous energy, provide sensory regulation or help you concentrate. The more useful question is not simply, ‘How do I stop fidgeting?’ rather: How can I help my body feel settled enough that it no longer needs to work so hard? Why do we fidget when speaking? In high-pressure situati

You’re halfway through a presentation. It’s going rather well. Then, without warning, the next thought disappears. Not becomes slightly hazy: disappears. Your mind is suddenly an empty stage. You can hear the silence, feel people looking at you and become acutely aware of your own face. At this point, many of us do something that makes the situation worse: we panic, apologise and begin frantically searching for the missing words. Actors know this feeling well. Lines can vanis

Most people who come to communication coaching do not have a communication problem. They are often intelligent, capable and perfectly articulate. They can explain complex ideas, build strong relationships and speak with confidence when they feel comfortable. But place them in a senior meeting, an important presentation or a difficult conversation, and something changes. They speak too quickly. They over-explain. They lose their train of thought. They become more cautious, mor

No is one of the first words we learn and, for many of us, one of the hardest to use as adults. Particularly at work. We say yes to the meeting we do not need to attend, the impossible deadline and the ‘quick favour’ that arrives at 4.57pm with the approximate dimensions of a medium-sized project. Sometimes we genuinely want to help. Sometimes we are ambitious, conscientious or keen to seem dependable. And sometimes saying no feels so uncomfortable that it seems easier to agr

There was only one Dolly Parton. In an age when public figures are endlessly polished, repositioned and advised to become more palatable, Dolly remained gloriously, unmistakably herself. The hair, the rhinestones, the humour, the voice, the music, the lyrics - none of it came with an apology. Of course, the apparent contradiction was part of her genius. Her image was knowingly artificial, but the woman inside it always seemed to me at least entirely authentic. She got the jok

Here’s something I notice quite often when I’m coaching high-performing people. If I suggest they might benefit from being a little kinder to themselves, they can become slightly suspicious. They hear something differently, and respond with something like: ‘What, lower my standards? Stop pushing myself? Let myself off the hook?!’ And I completely understand this... because my own inner critic has never knowingly let a minor mistake go uninvestigated. It’s remarkably thorough.

There is a particular moment in a meeting that should worry a leader. It isn’t when somebody challenges them. It’s when nobody does. Every suggestion is greeted with agreement. Nobody pushes back. Difficult questions don’t materialise. The meeting ends smoothly and everyone leaves apparently aligned. It can feel like good leadership. It may be precisely the opposite. Because one of the peculiar consequences of becoming more senior is that people gradually become less honest w