When a Media Moment Lands Harder Than It Should

“It’s because you were quiet.”

A client of mine summarized his reasons for choosing me to work with as his executive coach.

CEO of a public company, Enrique exuded intensity and intelligence. His direct gaze, warm manner and physical restlessness gave the impression that he had more energy than he could entirely harness. Enrique found it intriguing that I did not have much to say in the way of selling my services.

When I review the work I did with Enrique, I can agree with him that our quiet moments together were some of our most powerful moments. Just as in that initial meeting, in our sessions Enrique was occasionally able to step out of the demands and complexity of his day to sit in a room and say nothing.

Enrique had his share of the burdens of success. He had pushed and pulled his company forward with uncompromising vision, often against pockets of skeptics. Managing crisis after crisis was taking a toll on his health and family life. But what he found the most difficult to endure was a spate of bad publicity arising from a public relations situation that had taken on a personal nature.

Almost 50, Enrique had enjoyed an unusually long run of excelling in everything he touched. He’d excelled in school, won awards, and had risen rapidly up the career ladder. As is common with gifted, bright, personable people, Enrique was accustomed to being praised and appreciated. He also strove to deserve his larger-than-life reputation by living ethically and generously. The grandson of a missionary, it was important to Enrique to walk the talk and to contribute positively to the world.

As will be the case with public relations, the bad publicity was more a matter of accident and timing than of deserving. A journalist had misquoted Enrique in a way that reflected badly on him, and the thing took on a life of its own. Any effort to clean it up just added fuel to the small fire. Eventually the thing subsided with no tell-tale marks.

Except for Enrique.

Being found fault with, however unjustly, was not an experience Enrique could get comfortable with. He couldn’t get over the feeling that his record was now blemished, and the thing couldn’t be undone. People around him began to notice he was quieter and avoiding large events. He was both more driven and less confident, it seemed.

Talking to Enrique was easy, the first time and every time. I found him informative and thoughtful, informal and humorous. It was easy to see right away why he was well-liked. The first time, after a spell of back-and-forth, came the pause that Enrique found so helpful. I could see he was finished with whatever he’d been talking about, and I waited with him. A minute… maybe two. It was then that he told me how challenging he was finding it to recover from the negative publicity event, as if making a painful confession.

This was the beginning of the silences. Enrique and I talked about many topics over the course of our work. Conflicts in his leadership team. Difficult board meetings. His family. But the occasional silences helped Enrique to connect to the deeper layers of present-moment experience which were in turn tied to the thing he had the most difficulty with. Over time it helped him to recognize how shamed he felt by having made an error, and how critical he felt toward himself for it. It helped him to see the defensive stance he had developed, which was affecting everything from how open he was with his team to how tolerant he was toward taking risks. And eventually, it helped him alter his approach to what felt intolerable.