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The Stinky Twins: Blaming Others, Blaming Self

“After anger comes shame.”

—Benjamin Franklin

I was discussing the physiology of negative energy during a seminar and had just finished a module on “flooding,” the biofeedback word for anger. Bruce, an attendee, had been riveted by the discussion. Now we were on break, and he couldn't stop talking.

Bruce told me he was a combat veteran who struggled with reflexive, aggressive reactions to frustration and threat. He said, “I just can't get a handle on my anger, and I've pushed everyone away. Everyone that cared about me has left. I want to tell you, Anna, that I've learned more about anger in the first two hours of your class than I have in twenty years of outpatient therapy at the VA.” I simultaneously felt sad that Bruce had struggled for so long without the simple information we covered and relieved that he was learning data he found useful.

A year later, I was back at the same organization, and Bruce sat through the seminar again. “I'm doing so much better! I can't say that I've completely stopped flooding, but it's much less often and it doesn't last as long. I didn't tell you this, Anna, but when I met you, I felt so discouraged and hopeless that I was going to end my life. But sitting in your seminar I realized there is a totally different way to look at the world.”

Three years later, we saw each other again. Bruce walked into a seminar and sat in the back. On break he came over and said,

I've started doing volunteer work! I joined a local service organization, and I got elected president!

During our last meeting, an issue surfaced that has always triggered an argument, and one of the other volunteers flooded. Using the technique you taught us, I was able to calm him down. We went back to discussing the issue and this time, at last, we came to an agreement. Then to my surprise, I realized the energy in the room was at the ceiling—and it was positive!

And then the greatest thing of all happened. I realized I could create the positive energy I had waited for other people to bring to me. I'm not afraid anymore! Learning the material in the seminar was the beginning of this shift, and I will never forget it.

Bruce had been on a mission to regain his inherent right to healthy connections and positive feelings about himself and others. He not only developed new skills to control his anger, but he also learned he could dissipate anger in others. With these new competencies, his vitality was restored.

The previous chapter covered the three cultures at work and a brief overview of First, Second, and Third Assumptions. In this chapter we will zero in on First and Second Assumptions—the two reflexive responses that had been Bruce's nemeses—blaming others and blaming self. As we'll see, using reflexive assumptions when we are frustrated not only makes us hostile, but as Bruce intimately knew, it makes us more vulnerable to loneliness and depression.

Blaming others when we face one of our thirty frustrations a day is giving our brains the command “Search for stupidity! Whose fault is this?” We assume someone else is causing our frustration: a peer, a boss, a customer or client, another department, or a colleague who snubbed us in yesterday's meeting.

When we search for blame, we focus on people and personalities, such as, “I wouldn't be bringing work home tonight if my boss wasn't such an appeaser—always trying to impress his boss!” Or, “The executive team rejected our proposal because it wasn't their idea and they are control freaks!”

The chilling reality of this approach is that our brains will find data that makes the other person look irrational and unreasonable. Similar to searching for data on Google, once we limit our search to assumptions of blame, our minds will present only the data that fits our search criteria. For a dramatic example of how compliant our brains become once we see someone in a negative light, jump forward to “Transforming the Enemy” in the Epilogue. It's a cautionary tale of how I struggled for seven years with a seemingly insurmountable problem, only to discover that part of the problem lay between my ears.

Negativity bias: Our brains are nervous and cranky!

The body insists we pay attention to threat, but it is relatively nonchalant about positive experiences. In Hardwiring Happiness, neuropsychologist Rick Hanson, PhD, reports that negative experiences are five times more powerful than positive events. Hanson labels negative experiences as “Velcro” because of their ability to stick. However, positive experiences more closely resemble Teflon because they slip away without much neurological impact or recall.

Hypervigilance to danger was an evolutionary advantage when sudden death was a constant threat. Subsequently, we remember negative events (or threats) more clearly and intensely.

For a modern-day example of the negativity bias, imagine the last time you were at a family gathering. You probably talked to a number of individuals, but it is likely that after the event, the interactions you ruminated about on the way home were the negative remarks or perceived slights.

In reality, there were probably more positive than negative comments. So why do those little jabs take up more than their share of brainpower?

The answer rests on one small, but often overlooked, evolutionary reality: We can miss many positive events—beautiful sunsets, a good meal, bonding over the campfire. But we can only miss one threat.

Consequently, even in our air-bagged and hand-sanitized world, our brains scan constantly for danger—the arched eyebrow of the senior leader, fender-benders on the highway shoulder, or the conversation that stops when we enter the room.

When we avoid others and cut off communication, the negativity bias tilts us toward speculation that is suspicious and self-fulfilling. We will talk more about this in Chapter Four.

Master of First Assumption

For a vivid example of the ineffectiveness of blaming others—especially when facing complex systemic problems—we need look no further than Hitler's Nazi Germany.

Hitler's reign is a classic example of a leader who rose to power on the machinery of dehumanization and contempt. He pitched his ideology to a perfect audience: a disillusioned and suffering population. Germans were not only depressed by years of economic stagnation, they were also bitter about the restitutions imposed by the Allies after World War I. Germany lost land, colonies, and the right to maintain an army, and was saddled with crushing debt. The majority of Germans felt trapped, and hopeless.

Hitler blamed Germany's problems on developmentally and physically disabled children and adults, Catholics, Romani wanderers, gays, lesbians, and the Jewish community. Hitler claimed these sub-groups, who had few advocates, were a drain on the German economy and the cause of its economic crisis. He created a rationale to justify slowly decimating these groups for “the good of Germany.”

Despite the fact that Hitler's elimination of these groups had no impact on the economy, Hitler didn't stray from his ideology. His legacy paints a clear picture of the tragedy, futility, and irrationality of targeting people.

In Chapter Three, we will look at the same crisis using Third Assumption, which is analytical and situational. While Hitler was busy promoting hatred against minorities, other world leaders were looking for solutions to change the structure of their economic systems, lessening the impact of a lingering drought, and passing laws to shore up unregulated banks.

Today there are many First Assumption leaders. We can identify them by their tendency to label and dehumanize. First Assumption leaders excel at blaming complex, systemic problems on subgroups that are often, but not always, unpopular and vulnerable.

Inflammatory thinking

When people are blamed for problems, frustrations skyrocket. Inflammatory thinking exaggerates the significance and pervasiveness of the inconvenience. When we inflame an event, we use words and phrases such as, “Always,” “Never,” and “They're all alike.”

• I can't stand this! Why is the copier always out of paper?
• Just my luck! My computer is down, and now I'll never get this report out!
• Everyone in marketing is a slacker!

In this chapter, I introduce situations in which reflexive assumptions, blame, and inflammatory thinking took center stage. We will return to these stories in the next chapter to see how outcomes changed dramatically when individuals shifted their thinking to Third Assumption.

Fear triggers a tsunami of blame

Tony enjoyed many years as an attorney in a sophisticated manufacturing company. Being the conscientious employee that he was, he arrived early for the all-staff meeting at which the company president was scheduled to give an update on acquiring a new facility.

However, once staff had settled, they were stunned to learn that instead of purchasing a local building, the president was closing the existing office and moving the organization to his hometown halfway across the country.

The owner's reasons for the sudden change were vague. He tried to reassure the employees by saying the “brightest and best” would be invited to relocate. Undeniably, the rest of the workforce would soon be without jobs. Tony's colleagues walked back to their departments in shock. Within a few minutes, their surprise turned to outrage and blame.

Tony had worked across the organization and had developed friendships in every department. Consequently, he spent the next hour walking through the facility listening to his colleagues vent. The engineers turned against their traditional foe: “This is marketing's fault! They dropped the ball on customer feedback and trends.”

Tony wandered into the next division and heard equally angry reactions in the sales group: “I told the engineering department to back down! But they didn't listen. They kept adding features to our products that drove our costs sky-high. South Korea and Japan didn't help either! They've bulldozed their way into the American market!”

Tony wandered back to the legal department and saw the attorneys huddled in a circle with their own ideas about who was to blame: “The owner is probably returning to his home state so he can hunt and fish! He's your typical egocentric executive, thinking only of himself and his retirement! To hell with us!” In the next chapter, we will see how inaccurate these speculations were.

Predictable workplace targets and scapegoats

When the thinking patterns of blame and contempt take over an organization, no one is safe. Individuals or entire groups are targeted for any conceivable reason. Frontline workers blame the boss; the CEO blames the board; second shift blames first shift; the COO blames the plant in Taiwan; architects blame project managers; Millennials blame Baby Boomers; the city council blames the mayor; support staff blames administration; firefighters blame headquarters; and branch offices blame corporate.

I've watched many leaders foolishly attempt to create team cohesiveness through hostility and denigration of other people or departments with statements such as, “Those jerks in sales don't care if we make a profit off this order!” For groups, hostility and blame are used as the “sugar high.” It is quick and easy because channeling anger toward a convenient target takes little effort or skill.

The more frequently we entertain anger, the more we reinforce specific neural pathways in our brains. With enough repetitions, the blame response becomes automatic and less conscious.

Anger, hostility, impaired immune systems, and heart disease

Blaming others sidesteps the nitty-gritty work of problem-solving, and it helps generate a burst of energy when the team is in a slump. However, one of the many costs of hostility and blame is a dramatic increase in the risk for heart disease.

Researchers call anger “flooding” because our bodies “flood” with cortisol and adrenaline. As thinking inflames, so do our bodies.

Dr. Redford Williams, a psychiatrist and director of the Behavioral Medical Research Center at Duke University, suspected that hostility was the biggest predictor of heart disease. Dr. Williams found twenty-five-year-old personality tests (the MMPI) that were given to law students. One of the traits measured by the test is the individual's hostility level. Williams suspected that if his hypothesis were correct, he would find a correlation between high levels of hostility and early death rates.

Williams found that in the low-hostility group, 5 percent had died during the following twenty-five years. However, 20 percent of the high-hostility group had died from various causes, but primarily from heart disease. In his bestselling book The Trusting Heart, Williams concluded that frequent, prolonged, and intense anger is the best predictor of death rates from coronary blockage.

Our defense system secretes chemicals to thicken our blood so we don't bleed out if we are physically wounded. As a result, people who are fueled by a regular diet of hostility can be quietly developing arteriosclerosis, or hardening of the arteries, in response to elevated levels of blood-thickening chemicals.

When we become angry, our bodies rapidly increase the amount of available energy through an increase in hormones, blood pressure, and pulse rate. Cortisol, one of the hormones released during heightened anger, is a particularly troublesome chemical. It damages the cells lining the heart and makes it more difficult for the body to maintain equilibrium.

This process is controlled by an ancient defense system designed to ensure you can outrun a hungry predator. However, in today's culture, individuals can have elevated levels of cortisol and adrenaline in reaction to the inability to manage relatively minor emotional events. The majority of modern-day risks for heart disease are not created by the threat of physical danger; they are created by our reactions to emotional risks.

Under the influence of First Assumption and inflammatory thinking, we assume the solution is outside our control. We can't solve the problem unless they change, and consequently, we feel trapped! Our bodies react with aggression and fight-or-flight. Blame can turn a minor inconvenience into a perception that this is not only an injustice, it is also intolerable. Once we flood, it takes a minimum of two hours for the chemicals to leave our bloodstream. Each frustration adds to the chemical overload of the previous incident. This data helps us understand why, once we flood, the rest of our day can easily deteriorate.

In The HeartMath Solution, Doc Childre and Howard Martin present evidence that even five minutes of recalled anger impairs the immune system for six hours!

At 100 heartbeats per minute, we can't hear

Researcher and psychologist John Gottman PhD, spent twenty years obtaining biofeedback data (heart rhythms, blood pressure, etc.) on couples while they were engaged in tense discussions. In his book The Seven Principles That Make Marriages Work, Gottman relates that the human body will go from a normal heartbeat (eighty-two beats per minute for women and seventy-six for men) to 165 beats per minute when we feel threatened. “When we wire up couples during a tense discussion, you can see how physically distressing flooding is.” Gottman concludes that it's almost impossible to have rational thoughts when we are flooded.

Gottman found that when we're flooded and our heartbeats go above 100 beats per minute, blood pressure interferes and we cannot hear what the other person is saying, even if we try.

I wonder if this biological reality plays a factor in police shootings. In July of 2016, not far from where I live, Philando Castile, a school aid and a well-loved member of the community, was killed when he was pulled over by the local police.

In the police dashcam video, Philando says, “Sir, I have to tell you that I do have a firearm on me,” and the officer screams, “Don't reach for it!” before he fires seven times, fatally shooting Castile.

When I watched the video, Officer Jeronimo Yanez is clearly flooded. Even though Castile seems calm in the tape, I'm sure his heart was beating more than 100 beats per minute. Although many factors contribute to these tragedies, what if neither person had been able to hear? The officer sees Philando doing exactly what he is telling him not to do, and Philando can't hear that his actions to save himself are going to contribute to his death. Perhaps understanding and managing the physiology of flooding can help us walk back from these tragic events.

Men rage, and rescue

Our species was organized in small clans of hunters and gatherers for 99.99 percent of the time we have been on the planet. Men and women relied on, and respected, the contributions of the other gender, but we were bound by rigid gender roles: women gathered and men hunted. These differences are still reflected in our physiology.

As hunters, men faced many dangers. The ability to flood rapidly and intensely was a necessity to fend off physical danger and to subdue prey. Men were aggressive hunters and they were protectors of women and children.

These ancient differences help us understand why 96 percent of the people in prison for violent crimes are males.

However, this increased ability to flood also contributes to men performing a higher percentage of rescue work. When it comes to physical attributes, flooding boosts speed and strength. Consequently, if your life is at risk, flood!

Emotional idiocy

When we flood, problem-solving, which occurs in the cortex, the largest and most analytical part of the human brain, is impaired. As a result, we can't think of a pointed response when we're in a heated argument. To add insult to injury, when the point you were trying to make pops up fifteen minutes later, we think, “Why didn't I say . . .?” This is a good example of the amygdala at work, hijacking higher systems of thought.

The amygdala, which is the size of a walnut, lies at the base of the skull and is the most active part of the brain when we are flooded. It's easy to understand why people behave in ways that make no sense when they are angry: sports fans that throw garbage on the field because their team is losing, parents who attack the youth referee because they disagree with a call, or the boss who loses his cool in a meeting and (in the words of Laurence Peter) “Makes the best speech he'll ever regret.”

Walnut brain

There are two primary reasons I focused on the causes, costs, and antidotes of anger in my work. One is to help many clients and teams that were struggling with flooding.

The other reason is more personal. My father was a combat Marine veteran who never received help for his flooding and subsequent violence. His uncontrolled rage, often targeted at his children, became one of the defining forces in our lives. My parents had six children, and we all have different memories of my dad's anger. Many years into adulthood I asked a very kind woman, who had been our next door neighbor, what she remembered. Her answer confirmed my experience. She said, “When your dad got angry, I would bring my children into the house.”

As unbelievable as it seems today, in the days when my father terrorized us with his rage, the police weren't called; it was considered a domestic problem for the family to handle. Consequently, my primary emotional reactions were fear and shame. Shame that we could not stop him, shame that the neighbors knew. Finally, in my twenties, I confronted my father and told him that if he ever hurt one of us again, I would call the police.

Here is the irony of flooding: My father didn't know what I was talking about. At first I thought he was in denial, or maybe this conversation was too much for him. But later I learned another possible cause for his confusion: memory is impaired when we flood. Once I understood this, I started seeing examples of this phenomena in the media. A person arrested for a violent crime says something similar to, “I remember we were yelling, then my memory goes blank, and the next thing I can recall is the police at the door.”

I have seen this in the workplace also. A university professor in a struggling department flooded frequently and intensely. She confided, “I don't remember what happens after I get angry. I have one friend in the department, and he'll fill me in the next day.” If the purpose of flooding is speed and strength at the expense of IQ, then faulty memory makes sense.

Ironically, but not surprisingly, as much as I witnessed the damage of my father's fury, I adopted his habits and became a flooder myself. Although I never physically attacked anyone, I internalized his behavior and believed it was appropriate to rant, rave, and slam doors.

Once I was furious with a friend who repeatedly promised to bring a chair for my home office. When he finally delivered on his promise, it was dreadful. The fabric was torn, stuffing was coming out, and it was missing a wheel, making it lopsided. I was so angry over his delays and false promises that I opened a second-story window and threw out the chair!

I tell the story about the chair in seminars because I want attendees to know that I get how insidious, shameful, and habitual anger can become. Also, people in the seminars are usually shocked because today I could be an advertisement for calm behavior, which gives individuals hope that they can get on top of their flooding too.

In Chapter Seven, we'll cover the techniques I used to stop flooding, but I want to share one of my favorites in this chapter. After I learned about the role of the tiny amygdala in flooding, I used it to my advantage. I hate being stupid, which is essentially what flooding does to us all. So, when I was tempted to flood, I'd think, “Walnut brain, walnut brain.” Just the thought that I would both lose my capacity to solve the problem and potentially harm a relationship motivated me to control my anger.

A fire chief gave me an additional insight. Flooding is a serious concern in his line of work. It's the job of the chief to analyze the best way to approach a fire, a job that requires years of experience and training. When the chief looks at a burning building, the images are so visceral that they activate the fight-or-flight response. As a result, in most situations, the chief stands so his or her view of the fire is blocked, and the only information they receive is auditory.

Venting

Therapists used to encourage people to act out their aggression in order to release anger. Individuals with suppressed rage were encouraged to beat on pillows with plastic bats as a means of resolution and release.

However, research done at Iowa State University by Dr. Brad Bushman concluded that venting doesn't eliminate or dampen the expression of violence; it makes it more likely that it will occur again. Dr. Bushman wrote, “Venting to reduce anger is like using gasoline to put out a fire—it only feeds the flame. By fueling aggressive thoughts and feelings, venting increases aggressive responses.”

Venting weakens our natural inhibitions against violent outbursts and, according to HeartMath, reinforces the neurons that make this reaction automatic. In her book Anger: The Misunderstood Emotion, author Carol Tavris wrote, “The biggest, fattest cultural myth, the elephant in our living room . . . is that catharsis is good for you.”

Yelling

During a seminar, a construction supervisor named John blurted out, “But you don't understand; yelling at people works! When I yell at a contractor, I get results. They move!” I felt empathic to his frustration because I was challenging one of his favorite motivational strategies. John's employees were moving, but their ability to problem solve was impaired. When supervisors flood and scream at site operators, the operators scramble, but they will be unable to think analytically.

In addition, the recipient will be focused on revenge. If John rants at employees, he'll never discover how the employee saves face with his or her peers, be it a cutting retort behind John's back or an act of sabotage at the construction site. In later chapters we'll explore retribution, retaliation, and revenge in detail.

First Assumption: I'm frustrated and it's your fault!

Let's take a look at the flow between inflammatory thinking, flooding, and behavior through the following true story.

A driver focuses her attention on the back seat while she's at a red light. Sure enough, when the light changes, she doesn't notice. The male behind her taps his horn impatiently, but she ignores him. The female driver gets out of her car, opens the back door, and starts digging around in the back seat! The driver behind her leans on his horn, rolls down his window, and screams at her to get out of the way. She continues to ignore him, but within a minute or two, she returns to her seat and drives away.

Figure 2.1. First Assumption, blame others.

If we generate examples of blaming, inflammatory responses to this situation, they might include:

• “She's oblivious. Stupid Millennial!”
• “She's an old lady with nothing better to do.”
• “Woman driver! She's putting on her makeup.”
• “She's filthy rich and doesn't care about anyone but herself.”
• “She's unemployed and has nowhere to go.”
• “She's too stupid to realize the light has changed.”
• “She's an immigrant, and none of them care about our rules!”

When individuals are asked to brainstorm examples of blame in response to this story, the energy in the room skyrockets. People are laughing and boisterous. The energy of blame is self-righteous and indignant. But if you analyze the list of reactions, you'll notice that all of these statements are assumptions about the driver and her character. She is attacked for being stupid and for her personality, gender, economic status (too poor or too rich), age (too young or too old), and ethnicity.

As you know, with inflammatory thinking we feel hopeless about finding a solution, so the frustration seems insurmountable and unmerited. It's this approach to solving the problem that causes us to flood, not the problem itself.

Second Assumption: I'm frustrated and it's my fault

Sometimes instead of blaming others, we turn contempt inward and blame ourselves. This reaction is less visible. Most of us blame others publicly, but berate ourselves privately. Depression comes from the same thinking pattern as hostility toward others—the arrow of blame just swings inward.

Figure 2.2. Second Assumption, blame self.

If we're stuck behind someone who behaves in a seemingly irrational manner, we might initially react reflexively with First Assumption and blame.

However, when the adrenaline and cortisol fade, blaming and shaming voices turn on us. In Second Assumption, responses sound like: “Boy, I really lost it back there. I'm such a mindless jerk for getting angry over something so minor. I was in such a huge hurry, but my client was delayed and didn't even realize I was late. I'm such a loser.”

Some individuals resort to self-contempt immediately upon becoming frustrated. While checking out at the grocery store we can really damage our sense of well being when we inflame our thinking with “I always pick the wrong line!”

Depression, work, and health

Like hostility, depression has negative effects on health and productivity. A study by Geisinger Health Systems found that approximately 9 percent of the workforce is affected by depression at any given time, but it is often invisible to bosses and coworkers. Depressed employees report losing more than five hours per week from reduced performance due to fatigue, irritability, and loss of focus.

Figure 2.3. Blaming others can make blaming yourself more automatic.

Depression is considered a significant risk factor for heart disease in both men and women, and depression's toll on the body can also translate into a compromised immune system. Not only are depressed people more susceptible to colds and viruses, studies show that depression is also a risk factor for cancer. Although some forms of depression are the result of chemical imbalance, harsh self-criticism is a major contributor.

Cancer and heart disease are the two biggest killers in modern society, and we can substantially lower our risk for both by paying attention to how we think when we face frustration. Clearly, we need to access tools that bring relief.

The Stinky Twins

I call First Assumption (blaming others) and Second Assumption (blaming self) the Stinky Twins. They consist of the same “DNA” or thinking patterns. “I'm frustrated because of someone's stupidity!” The only difference is the target of contempt.

They are “stinky” because, in addition to being harmful to our health, they are 100 percent ineffective in solving problems. Hence, problems accumulate and weigh us down, and they lead to increased feelings of hopelessness. When we feel contempt for others, it may be to relieve the despair that accompanies self-loathing.

The flooded boss

Let's look at an example of how outer and inner blame are linked. Imagine I'm a vice president who knows nothing about flooding and its dire consequences. I flood frequently—after all, once in a while I deserve an outburst! I've earned it, and you're not going to deny me the right to express my indignation about sloppy work! I shouldn't have to put up with inefficiencies and apathy!

During a hectic day, when nerves are frayed, one of my direct reports, Megan, warily tells me that her presentation to the executive team will have to be rescheduled because of problems with the new software. I explode and tell her I've just about had it with her poor planning! Even if Megan's been warned that I flood, she will be hurt by my tirade. However, because my ability to problem solve and be attentive is impaired, I will not care about Megan's feelings or notice her reactions.

I will be pumped up, but my tirade carries a big, hidden price. My irrational response will destroy her willingness to exceed my expectations for the sheer pleasure of pleasing someone she respects and trusts. Her passion, her opinion of me, and her pride are in jeopardy.

However, I might bumble ahead and inflict even more damage as a consequence of my self-righteous behavior. I could turn my contempt and inflammatory thinking on myself. (In the next paragraph, notice how I inflame the situation with words that exaggerate the impact of my behavior.)

“I'm such a lousy supervisor. Why did I jump on her like that? This is my fault; she's only been here six months. I knew this assignment was a stretch for her, and I should have paid more attention to her progress. I hope she doesn't resign. I'd hate to lose another direct report this year. I'm lousy at supervising people. I never should have taken this promotion.”

Blame has now turned on me. What's the quickest way to buffer my self loathing? I can turn the arrow of blame toward the IT department or the person responsible for designing the software. Pumped up with renewed motivation, I stop the IT director in the hall and make poorly informed accusations against his group, which angers the director and his staff. I might feel terrible, but now I have energy!

I could use my attack on the IT department as a way of smoothing over the situation with Megan. I could apologize and tell her the problem is really their fault. Although she might feel relieved that she is no longer my target, at a deep, unexpressed level, she no longer trusts me.

The most tragic outcome of swinging back and forth between inner and outer blame is that the resulting isolation, hostility, and self-criticism will keep me from focusing on the problem: the software program needs attention. However, I have alienated the IT department and Megan—the people I need to solve the problem.

In addition, my hostile attacks will damage her self-confidence. To soothe her nervous system, she'll tell others about my hostile reaction, and they will be empathic to her embarrassment by telling stories about their run-ins with me.

At some level, I know I am the topic of office gossip. Why is the organization turning against me?! Now I am even more vulnerable to depression and aggression.

Chronic anger and fragile self-esteem

What causes chronic anger? Although many factors come into play, Dr. Redford Williams concluded that cynicism, or a general mistrust of other people's motives, fuels hostility.

Cynicism is not skepticism. Skepticism is occasional doubt with specific individuals. Cynicism is widespread mistrust of other people's motives. It's an attitude similar to, “I don't trust anyone but you and me, Dick, and I'm starting to worry about you!” It's contempt before investigation.

What causes cynicism? Think of the most cynical person you know. Does fragile self-esteem fit? Could anger and cynicism help individuals fend off threats to their self-worth?

Ohio State University's Jennifer Crocker presented her findings at a Cortex CEU seminar and said that individuals who have unstable and inflated feelings of self-worth (not grounded in objective measures) are the most likely to become hostile, defensive, and aggressive when they are challenged or disappointed.

Individuals with unstable or fragile self-esteem base their feelings of worthiness on other people's opinions, and the success or failure of their efforts, moment to moment. Even though their esteem scores are average or above, when disappointed or confronted, they react aggressively. Chronic anger can be a reaction to a deep, underlying fear that others will judge us as worthless.

Naomi Eisenberger of the University of California, Los Angeles, has shown that “socially painful experiences such as exclusion or rejection are processed in the same neural regions that process pain.” In other words, social pain literally hurts.

Hostility can be a smoke screen behind which people hide their feelings of self-contempt, and defend their identities.

Imagine you have a very cynical direct report named Beatrice who always complains about change. As you arrive at work, she is fuming about the sudden addition of several new products.

If you decide that she is unappreciative of what it takes to stay in business, you will mirror her negativity and feel annoyed. However, if you consider that her complaints might be due to lack of confidence or anxiety about not measuring up, your attitude might shift. Your reaction might be similar to “Come on, Beatrice, pull up the new product guide and I'll walk you through it.”

When I deal with chronically defensive and blaming clients, I always start with the assumption that self-confidence is at the core of the issue. I assume that this person is attempting to defend their sense of self-worth. This thought keeps me from getting hooked by their contempt. I try to dig down and respond to their predicament with assertiveness but also warmth.

As we'll see later, if our goal is to bring about change, kindness combined with high expectations is very effective.

The grand dragon and the cantor

After I read Dr. Williams's and Dr. Crocker's work about the relationship between self-esteem and aggression, I began to look for examples of how fragile, unstable self-esteem responds to kindness rather than confrontation.

There is an extraordinary example in the true story of Larry Trapp, the former grand dragon of the White Knights of the Ku Klux Klan of Nebraska, and the Weisser family. Although there are many more recent stories (e.g., Rising Out of Hatred by Eli Saslow) the Trapp/Weisser account is especially illuminating. This story about a duel between positive and negative energy is one of the most enlightening chronicles of the last century. If we are serious about reducing the amount of hostility in our world and workplaces, the Weisser's experience sheds light on what works. The story is the basis of Kathryn Watterson's award-winning book Not by the Sword: How a Cantor and His Family Transformed a Klansman.

Larry Trapp is an example of someone at the far left end of the emotional continuum introduced in the previous chapter. As a grand dragon, Larry spent his days in Lincoln, Nebraska, sending out hate mail, sponsoring racist videos on cable TV, and organizing fellow Klansmen and white supremacists to target and terrorize African Americans, Jews, Asians, Hispanics, Indians, gays, and lesbians.

One of the families Larry Trapp terrorized was the local cantor and acting rabbi, Michael Weisser, and his wife, Julie. Larry's harassment started when he called the Weisser's house with the following threat: “You'll be sorry you ever moved to Randolph Street, Jew boy.” Later, he sent a note: “The KKK is watching.”

Figure 2.4. Larry Trapp in Klan regalia. Used with permission from Kathryn Watterson.

Michael and Julie are examples of individuals at the right end of the continuum whose warmth and skill created an extraordinary ability to transform destructive behavior.

Larry's first threatening phone call to the Weisser household shocked and angered the couple. But Michael was used to confronting prejudice and hostility in his work as the leader of their small synagogue. Michael's anger gradually turned to curiosity about Larry, and later to concern.

Michael started to call Larry and leave messages meant to make Larry think. He wanted to connect with Larry and explore his rationale and the experiences that led him to his rage. Other messages were from Michael's heart, such as, “Larry, if you ever get tired of hating, there's a whole world of love waiting for you.”

Both Michael and Julie tempered their conversations with practical offers to help Larry in any way they could. Slowly Larry's attitude began to shift; he wasn't used to warmth and kindness, and it disarmed him.

After months of intense phone conversations, Michael received a call that was unlike any other. Larry said bluntly, “I want to get out, but I don't know how.” Larry was beginning to link hostility with his poor health. “I'm feeling confused and kind of sick. I think this is making me sick.” Michael had been asking Larry if he would be willing to talk face to face, and now Larry finally agreed. Michael and Julie told Larry they'd meet him at his apartment and bring a bucket of chicken from KFC.

When Julie and Michael arrived at Larry's apartment, they were disheartened by the reality of what lay behind the smoke screen of hostiity. Larry was an unkempt, partially blind, disheveled man. He sat in a wheelchair, having lost both of his lower legs to diabetes. He was sitting alone in a barren, dirty room surrounded by guns, hate literature, bomb-making supplies, and Nazi paraphernalia.

Michael reached out to shake hands with Larry, and Larry began to sob. Underneath his rage, he was exhausted and feeling hopeless about his future. His misery and isolation were intensified because the energy Larry invested in targeting and harassing others was blocking positive relationships with people who might befriend him.

During their fateful conversation, Larry apologized repeatedly for terrorizing and hurting others. The next day, Larry resigned from the Klan even though he knew that he might be killed. Shortly afterward he began the long process of meeting face to face with people he had terrorized and asking for their forgiveness.

The local paper ran an article on the story of the grand dragon and the cantor, which was picked up by the Associated Press, the New York Times, and Time magazine. There was a flurry of activity and interviews, but behind the scenes, Julie and Michael continued to quietly bring Larry home-cooked meals and medicine, and provide rides to his doctor.

Figure 2.5. Larry Trapp and the Weisser family. Reprinted with permission from Barry Staver.

Several months and many trips later, it became clear that Larry was dying. The Weisser family asked Larry if he wanted to become part of their family. When Larry said yes, one of the Weisser's adolescent daughters moved to the basement, and Larry took up residence in her former bedroom.

In response to this loving family, Larry abandoned his hate-filled habits. He moved in the opposite direction and made amends, acknowledged the harm he had inflicted on innocent families, and encouraged other Klan members to leave the organization.

Eventually, Larry asked Michael to teach him Hebrew, and before he died, he converted to Judaism.

Hostility brought Larry relief from self-loathing

One of the most disturbing, yet revealing aspects of the Weisser/Trapp story occurred just before Larry's death. During his Klan days, Larry professed his hatred for African Americans claiming he had been gang raped by a group of black adolescents at reform school.

However, in his last confession to Julie, the one that was most difficult for him to make, Larry admitted that he hadn't been raped. As a young man, he had consensual sex with an African-American male. Larry, who had been raised with intolerance and contempt, judged himself mercilessly and turned his inner hostility into outer hatred as a means to feel relief from self-loathing. Michael and Julie were witnessing someone trying to salvage a fragile sense of self worth. This is a classic example of the cycle we discussed in the early pages of this chapter about First and Second Assumptions.

Similar to most people caught in this trap, Larry became increasingly depressed as he learned that targeting and despising other people didn't bring him the respect and peace of mind he craved.

When Larry met the Weisser family, he was at a turning point. His deteriorating health made it undeniably clear that he didn't have much time to get it right. When Julie and Michael offered their friendship, Larry dropped his hostility in order to embrace an opportunity to be loved.

Hostility collapses into hopelessness and despair

On a much less dramatic scale, I have seen this exact dynamic as I work with teams incapacitated by internal hostility and conflict. When I come into an organization to resolve conflict, team members are surprisingly eager to cooperate. The initial rush of hostility they felt at the onset of their escalated conflict has faded into hopelessness. Team members are exhausted from tension, and they ache for positive interactions and the respect of their supervisors and peers. All of us are robbed of our primary desires—achievement and camaraderie—when hostility is a primary means of energy.

Contempt doesn't have boundaries

Employees mirror the habits of leadership. When leaders tolerate and model First Assumption, they lose control over how pervasive it becomes.

I witnessed this firsthand when a Twin Cities nonprofit asked for my help. Their organization worked for better environmental laws, and their primary activities included raising money and lobbying legislators. A significant percentage of their employees were volunteers, and the organization fell into the trap of demonizing groups to keep their staff motivated.

Instead of talking about the concerns and interests of farmers, they inflated the situation and referred to them as “greedy farmers.” Politicians became “corrupt politicians.” However, as always, this thinking pattern didn't stop when employees returned to the office after fundraising or meeting with legislators. Their reactive and inflammatory way of thinking crept into the workplace, and their organization became noticeably more uncivil.

In the planning stages of our project, Michelle, the company president, and I previewed the seminar concepts (First, Second, and Third Assumptions; inflammatory thinking; and flooding), and I could see she was experiencing a watershed moment. She told me these concepts were exactly what the group needed, so we scheduled two sessions with the entire staff.

These employees were bright and passionate. Similar to their president's response, they ate this material up. The next day we followed up with a Code of Conduct session in which they identified specific, problematic norms they pledged to change as a group.

I kept in touch with the president for several years and the new way of problem-solving, along with the interaction with each other and their key stakeholders, solidified the new cultural norm.

I have yet to find anyone in the workplace who chooses hostility if the energy of connectedness is available. It's only in the void of positive energy that anger and belittling others appeals.

Send the Stinky Twins to reform school

In the next chapter we'll find an abundance of good news as we focus on Third Assumption, the situation-based, analytical response to frustrations and disagreements. We will finish three previous stories and discover that when we lose interest in First and Second Assumptions, we make a dramatic shift toward better health, effectiveness, and self-confidence. We'll look at the analytical response to the economic depression after World War I, the reason Tony's boss moved the facility to his hometown, and why the driver neglected to pay attention to the green light.

During seminars, individuals are engrossed in the information about flooding, the amygdala, the cortex, heart disease, and inner and outer contempt. However, there is typically a palpable sense of relief when we turn our attention to Third Assumption, the thinking pattern that produces thriving workplace cultures.

Although First Assumption and negative climates are fascinating, they cannot sustain us. For optimal, long-term performance, we must make a commitment to create cultures in which energy can be continuously renewed. Our longing for positive communities is ancient and unfailing.