From HBR
When it’s your turn to step up to a difficult announcement, you may notice a temptation toward one of the following:
My experience with the telecom executive left an indelible mark. When, a few years ago, it fell to me to let a world-class team know their entire organization would be disbanded, I pledged to handle things differently. I loved these people. I knew the news would be startling, disappointing, and even hurtful.
On a flight to meet with the team, I sketched out a handful of principles to guide the painful conversation. I can’t say that following them made the experience pleasant. But I can say that it made it human. The six principles, outlined below, helped me present the news in a way that was responsible (owning my role in the decision), honest (unapologetic about the logic of the decision), caring (deeply appreciative of past work and acknowledging the hurt the decision might cause) and patient (honoring their need to feel whatever they felt, for however long they felt it).
Some think that tiptoeing slowly toward the bomb we’re about to drop will make the explosion less upsetting. It won’t. All we do is add anxiety to inevitable shock. If you have something hard to say, just say it. Then go to work on demonstrating understanding and empathy (principles 3 and 4 below).
I began my announcement to our team with, “After months of deliberation about future potential directions for this special group of professionals, the board has come to the difficult decision to discontinue operations effective 90 days from today.”
Depending upon the suddenness and potential consequences of your decision, people may not hear anything you say for a few moments. Don’t just forge ahead. Pause. Let them breathe. Make eye contact with everyone you can. Allow them a moment to digest the headline. Then proceed.
After pausing, I said: “I know this is a lot to take in. I know this comes as a shock to many. I will take a few minutes to explain how we came to this decision. I don’t expect you to agree with our conclusion. But I owe you an explanation of how we got here.”
Do your best to explain the tradeoffs leaders faced and the principles and criteria that guided the ultimate decision. Honor the fact that reasonable people may disagree. Don’t blame others for the decision. As a leader, you are an agent of the organization, and you accepted a responsibility to fill that role when you took your job.
Don’t let your desire to be liked overshadow your integrity. Even if you weren’t involved in the decision, your duty is to faithfully present the logic leadership used to make that decision. If you can’t ethically do that, it’s time to consider whether you can remain in that role.
Next, carefully and patiently do the emotional work. Don’t rush it. Fully acknowledge the impact of the decision and the emotions people might be feeling. Err on the side of validating rather than minimizing potential hurt.
Among other things, I said, “I can’t imagine a worse time to be announcing this — less than a month before the holidays. It breaks my heart to be distracting you from what should be a peaceful time with friends and family. I’m sorry. As we deliberated about timing, we felt it was more important to ensure our remaining funds were available to help you with the transition. Had we waited two months, we would have had hundreds of thousands fewer dollars to help.”
Close with an invitation for both conversation and support. Don’t expect a resolution or applause. People will need time to process the decision. Focus on their needs not yours. Your logic might be irrefutable, but the emotions they aroused will take time to evolve.
My conclusion was, “I will make time available to anyone who wants clarity on what I’ve just shared. I will also be looking for any ways I can support you with future plans.”
The only thing that will convince people that you’re sincere about your promise of support is what you do afterward. I’ve made it a general rule when letting people go, even with cause, to ask them to lunch, when possible, 30 to 60 days after their departure. When distance prohibits informal connection, I ask for an extended 1:1 virtual meeting. Independent of any differences we may have over what happened, it’s important to me that they know I care about them as a person. These follow-ups have led to many cherished relationships — even after the bad news.
Moments like these are crucibles of your emotional maturity, integrity, and compassion. Facing them thoughtfully is not only the least we owe to the people affected by them, it is a way of become both a better leader and a better human being.