|
Hi Reader, One of the biggest challenges I'm facing right now is hearing clients wonder whether to replace live workshops with AI-powered, self-guided learning — which is basically upgraded e-learning. My first instinct was to become even better, more polished, more structured, more ... professional. But then it hit me. The response to that threat must lie at the opposite end of the spectrum, by which I don't mean lower quality but more humanity. This might result in more messiness and I wonder whether it's not the messiness that we actually sometimes long for. A live workshop is one of the last places where people know they're interacting with another human being rather than an algorithm, so if we try to compete by becoming as flawless and scripted and predictable as AI, we've already lost. Why would anyone pay for an imperfect imitation of something that machines do faster and cheaper? Why would someone sit through a training if they could watch the same thing pre-recorded? Our value isn't that we're more consistent than AI, it's that we're less consistent. Last week I facilitated a workshop on challenging conversations. I started with acknowledging that everyone was there for the same reason: they were facing a conversation they'd rather avoid. They laughed and I could feel a relaxation going through the room, allowing participants to turn towards each other as peers, in the same boat instead of colleagues needing to pretend they had it all together. 🎤 Waiting for you on the Unprofessionalism podcast:Esther Ifrah was a hard-ass. She pushed her team hard. Worked long hours and had high standards. Everything she demanded of herself she demanded of them. And then she started pushing in a different direction. Instead of the team, she pushed back when work came down from above and nobody was replaced. She negotiated a Friday afternoon off when she couldn't get anything else. She once helped a team member polish her CV and rehearse for an interview at another company, and cheered when she got the job. It was when she started caring less about her career that she dared to care more about her people. When she stopped needing the promotion: "Maybe it's because I was ready to get out, but I switched to being much more human." After her ambition loosened its grip, her people started to care. They told her more, they shared what they needed, they stopped being afraid to fail. People left other teams and not hers. Maybe instead of telling managers to care more about their people, we should tell them to care less about the company. 🎧 Click here to listen to the interview📥 Download my 1-page summaryUP_031_Summary.pdfThat's it from my side. I hope to see you next week! Myriam
|
What does it cost to be yourself — at work? The more we strive to be professional, the harder it becomes to connect to one another honestly, vulnerably — as humans. With my podcast and newsletter, I want to inspire the courage it takes to bring more of ourselves to work. Each week, I dig into moments of professional risk, from my own life, and from conversations with guests on my podcast, Unprofessionalism.
Hi Reader, Does it sound fair to consider the wedding one of the most professional moments in one's private life? One could fill pages with written and unwritten rules, things we must do and cannot do. There are speeches with expected lengths, rituals nobody can explain the origin of and everybody would notice missing, a part of our bank account that behaves like a project budget, and over all of it the sentence the most beautiful day of your life! It's not even a wish. It's a specification....
Hi Reader, "Wife?" In my first client call after getting married, I referred to "my wife". Until then, I had always said "my partner". I used to tell myself that was the word for professional settings. Neutral. Safe. No risk of weird looks or noticeable pauses. Now I notice that wasn't quite true. With some clients I did say "her". With others I didn't. I read the room each time and chose the option that didn't risk judgement, or a change in how they saw me. So when I said "my wife", I...
Hi Reader, I was ill last week. Three days, stuck to my bed, not even considering a run. This almost never happens. I don't get ill. Until I do. When I finally went out for a walk, somewhere between my front door and the next corner, it hit me like a stick on the head: what if I slowed down the podcast? Before any sensible objection could arrive, I felt excited. Liberated, to be honest. In seven years of podcasting it had never once occurred to me that I could just decide to slow it down. To...